Aberration

(Contains some horror violence, reader discretion advised)

(The planetary science in this piece is all confirmed or plausible. Look it up. It’s really cool!)

It’s too quiet here. Even with all the machines constantly beeping. The persistent hiss of the air return. The daily klaxon that rings out until I acknowledge the signal from home. Even with all that, it’s too quiet. 

The noises are all manufactured. Consistent and lifeless. They become part of the scenery. All I hear is my heartbeat. The gulp as I swallow. The whistle of air as it enters my nostrils. I wish I was camping. Out in the forest where the crickets sing you to sleep. 

I remove myself from my sleeping bag and float out into the hallway. Pulling myself by ropes attached to the walls to guide me to my destination. The viewing room. The lights are off when I arrive. I manipulate the panel at the entrance and soft white photons bathe the room. A gentle hum begins as the shield retracts and the forward viewing window opens. 

It’s dark. Not dark like you’ve turned off a light. In this kind of dark, if you turned one on out here— you wouldn't even notice. But soon a fluorescent like light explodes in swirling patterns of violet that terminate into blood red trails. It looks like a universe trying to create itself.  

Vista J342.1. A world that shouldn’t exist. A lonely orb floating lightyears away from the nearest star. If it wasn’t for those sanguine auroras no one would ever know it was here. I wouldn’t be here. I’d be home in my bed sleeping. Where I know when night is. 

I swear I hear the klaxon sounding but it feels too early. Don’t acknowledge too early. Don’t be late. I start to get nervous and imagine my ship imploding in the darkness. Light that will never reach earth. 

I turn on the thermal imager and a landscape comes to life. Swirling hydrogen clouds heated by the planet's slowly decaying core. Gaps showing glimpses of mountains. In the dark reaches of cold vacuum this ghost glowed like a Vegas strip. It looked alive. 

“Tell.”

A soft hissing voice enters my thoughts. I back away from the window. I feel exposed, like I’ve made eye contact with a random person. Past some swirling clouds and wine colored aurora, I had no idea what was down there. 

Who was down there. 

I manipulate the panel again and the window shuts. Why am I not excited about this? I’m the first human to orbit an alien world. 

No. I realized long ago what I am is a guinea pig to test the drive that will take mankind to the stars. This is just close enough that the people I knew when I left home will still be alive when I get back. The whole world could change in just a few years— but twenty? Is this all worth it if there’s nothing there to see? 

Is it worth it if there is? 

I shake it off and float to the lavatory. I miss traveling at .99c when the ship had a floor and I could pee like a normal person. I take a wet wipe out of the pack and wipe myself down. Every now and again catching glimpses of myself in the mirror. I see an alien in my place. Fragile and skinny, stretched out a bit, my limbs look longer. I wave my hand to make sure it’s still mine. 

No matter what I find here, I’m the alien. 

I see movement in the corner of the reflection. Not me, something fast. Probably a floater. Lack of gravity can do strange things to the eyes. You really need to sleep, I tell myself. 

I float out into the corridor and push myself to the cockpit. Its viewscreen is off and only blinking LEDs light the room. I strap myself into my chair and bring my console to life. It shows me all the information sensors have collected on the planet. A slowly spinning digital sphere appears on the screen showing me a topographical map. Not the whole thing, only the parts my probe has passed over so far. The rest was a smooth ball. Holding onto its mystery for the moment. 

I focus on a mountain range. Peaks taller than anything on earth. The LIDAR displays it in different shades of red, yellow, orange and blue. It could be purple in person for all I know. I swear I see something moving again. Crawling over the mountain. A tiny dot making its way up the peak. Growing into a small blob as it goes. The blob scales the mountain and morphs into a spider. 

I jump back but I don’t really go anywhere. My body just flops in place, the straps tighten. The spider looks at me and fangs dangle from its tiny frothing mouth. Its eyes are red with yellow irises. 

I blink and it’s gone. 

I hear my pulse beating in my neck. I take deep gulps of air and hope I don’t sweat. My gaze falls on the dead man’s switch. If I press it too early or don’t at the right time, the reactor will destroy everything for a few thousand kilometers. The countdown clock says eight hours. 

I need to sleep. 

The sphere still spins on the screen. Its smooth side now. It looks like a video game. It’s just information, different quantum states. Superposition. I rub my face and bring up communications. I begin to speak but I need to clear my throat first. I’ve spent so long in silence I’ve forgotten the order. 

“This is Captain Rylo Decker. It is October thirteenth, two thousand ninety. Time is two a.m.” 

I pause to catch my breath. Gods do not want the heavens filled with noise. So weightlessness makes it hard to speak. I forget my tongue is there and talk around it.

“The LIDAR probe breached the surface approximately eight hours ago and began mapping the surface. So far it appears to be rocky and shows signs of current geological activity. Spectrometry confirms the hydrogen atmosphere. Thermal imaging shows a core of around four hundred C with surface temp and average of eighty. It registers some geysers and possible volcanism. If it weren’t for all the hydrogen I’d say this was prime vacation real estate.” 

I say this dryly whether I want to or not. I don’t feel like a tour guide. I feel like an intruder. I feel like I’m breaking into somebody's bedroom. None of this is meant to be seen. It’s been tucked away out here for billions of years. 

“There does appear to be liquid water. Spectrometry further detects ammonia plumes over several liquid bodies. Once the probe completes its mission we’ll have a complete chemical makeup. No signs yet of anaerobic life. I am quite overwhelmed at being chosen to name this new world— but it’s going to take some thought. I’ll get back to you on that.” 

The screen flickers. Blinking in and out. It’s blank for the moment and then words fill the glass. 

Tell 

My display returns. My breath returns. I feel cold now, from the inside out. The room hasn’t changed. Nothing has changed. Everything is fine. 

I really need to sleep. 

The display changes again. Caution. Docking procedure engaged. I unclasp my harness and push myself out of the control room. Pushing and pulling I make my way to the airlock. The room is bathed in blue UV light, the hatch sealed shut. 

Hissing noises echo as I feel the thud of a docking vehicle. I peer through the thick portal as nothing happens. Then a green light and the hatch opens. Two black suited figures enter the airlock. Stepping normally as if they were walking down a street. They seemed to reject the weightlessness of space. One of the two was a bit larger than the other and it walked right up to the door and looked back at me. Its dark visor only shows two glowing red dots.  

It reaches for the door release and I fumble for my end of it. Struggling in zero gravity to keep it closed. 

After a short struggle the alien wins and the door opens. Instantly I feel as if I’m standing on a planet. My feet planted on the ground. I feel the weight of my arms and legs. I feel my heart slow down as it adjusts back to gravity. 

I turn to run but snap back like an invisible leash is around my neck. I feel their arms wrap around mine pulling me. They don’t have fingers, they look like gloved pincers. And they grip hard. 

No matter how hard I struggle I’m too weak to fight them. I’ve lost too much floating around in zero g for so long. I can feel the weight of an entire atmosphere on top of me now, crushing me. I cannot fight them. 

Before long I’m in their craft. 

It’s humid inside. Red light bathes everything. The floor is crumbled black dirt piled and patted down. I feel drips hitting me. I look up to see a huge silk sack hanging above me. Suspended from the ceiling with a chain of identical ones. They ooze and pulsate in the wet dark environment. The alien pulls hard and I am dropped to the floor and dragged. My knees digging troughs in the dirt floor. I taste the muck flying up from their boots as they struggle to pull my dead weight along. 

The two stop and my face meets the ground. I roll over to see them staring at me. They both point just behind me. I lean on my elbows and look. It’s a cell door. It looks like wrought iron. One of them kicks me and motions at the cell again. 

I drag myself through the door and hear it shut behind me. There is nothing here. I huddle into a corner and look out through the bars. No one stays with me. No one says a word. 

I don’t know how long I’m here. At some point a suited alien returns. It stands in front of the cell motionless. Then the chest of its suit splits open. A spider-like creature emerges. Climbing down the suit front I can see the pincers on the end of each of its legs. Its body looks squishy, but seems to grip the suit just fine. It stands in front of me now. Four legs on the ground and four upright. 

Red irises with yellow pupils inspect me. Bobbing its head up and down. I blink and it’s in front of me. A middle leg reaches out and I feel a warm gel around my wrist. The creature releases me and slaps its pincer down on me. With more force it solidifies around my wrist. I can feel my pulse tapping against its touch. 

My head starts to hurt. I feel a trickle of fluid hit my lip and taste copper. My brain explodes and I hear a voice. 

“Tell.” 

I scream but nothing comes out. There’s no air in the room. My lungs keep trying to inhale but nothing happens. 

How am I still alive?

I blink again and we’re back at their airlock. Two aliens holding me tightly. I can’t even build up the energy to fight them. My lungs can’t stop trying to take something in. The door opens and I feel a wind. It carries with it a faint smell of rotten eggs. The aliens toss me out onto the ground. A very faint red glow barely illuminates the area. I can see only a few feet in front of me and then only shapes. 

I push myself to my feet. Regaining some confidence I try to run. My calves burn and my bones shake and I fight the planets pull against me. I turn to see the aliens are not chasing me. 

Blurry shapes ahead transform into structures. Wine-dark spiders line the walks all staring at me, only their yellow pupils visible. I hear a hissing sound in my head. It burns. 

I stagger down the road. The spiders reach out but don’t touch me. Occasionally a fluidic touch will graze me and I’ll hear a voice. 

“Tell them.” 

I’m so tired now. Everything aches. My chest hurts from my lungs' constant attempts to breathe. The road doesn’t end. Now it’s crowded on both sides. They smack me now with their pincers. The force giving them shape, cutting into my arms. The blood drips from my wounds and tiny sparks fly as the oxygen burns away. 

The heat from the reactions builds around me. Held in place by the hydrogen. Sweat stings my eyes. Tears drip down my cheeks. I want to scream but nothing comes out. 

I can go no further. I drop to my knees and brace my palms on the dirt. The spiders close the gap between us and soon I’m engulfed with them. All touching and poking me. Electricity shoots through my brain and countless voices invade my thoughts. More blood flows, now from my ears. It feels like someone is pushing my head into the ground. Trying to crack it like a nut. 

It rings out in hissed vowels. I am turned around to face them. Their fangs are jelly until they collide with my flesh. Pain signals come from all over until my system can’t take it anymore.  

I convulse and taste bile. I cannot move. I lay there as they tear me to pieces in the street. The auroras flicker above me like neon signs but it’s all red. 

Everything is red. 

I blink and I’m back in the cockpit. The klaxon is blaring. Counting down. Two minutes to respond. Two minutes to flip the switch. I'm within arms reach. I see blood float in front of my face. 

I don’t know how long I’ve been back, or if I even left. Hours have passed by in minutes. 

The display lights up in front of me. Two words. 

“Tell them.” 

I manipulate the console and bring up communications, my finger presses record and send. 

“Earth! All of earth! This is Captain Rylo Decker. Do not come here. I repeat. Do not come here!” 

I scream it into the microphone. I repeat it twice. I type it in a message and send that too. 

I look at the dead man’s switch as it counts down to single digits. I finally decide on a name. Aberration. 

10 seconds 

My head no longer hurts. It’s no longer quiet. I hear the rustle of leaves. 

5 seconds 

Bird song. The bubbling sound of a water current. I feel the cool night air. It’s so perfect I could just drift off. I feel my eyelids getting heavy. 

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