Angela Prime's final mission

PROLOGUE

The door closed with a metallic groan.

"Safe at last," gasped a weary Berksley, locking the titanium doors with a long bolt. Once he was sure the electronic lock was locked with a long code sequence, he aimed at the wall keypad and fired two shots. The console sprayed a shower of sparks, transforming with a resounding sizzle into a useless tangle of circuits and burnt plastic.

William Berksley, the Angela Prime's first navigator, slid to the floor, resting his head against the cold, metal wall of the dark room.

He was exhausted.

He hadn't slept a wink in twenty-six hours.

He felt his heart throb beneath his gray spacesuit, beating faster and faster...

"God," he sobbed, allowing himself a few tears. "I'm alone... Alone... With him."

Suddenly coming to, he lifted his head, staring at the armored door. There was no time for tears.

No, not yet.

That bastard is still out there somewhere, Berksley thought, and he won't give up until he gets me...

Driven by instinct, he stood up and, keeping his eyes on the door, retreated deeper into the oval room.

He was on the center bridge.

Haggins had lost, William thought.

Or rather, whatever controlled Haggins had lost.

The course was programmed for planet Earth, and only the central computer could change the astrocomputer settings. The Angela Prime was scheduled to reach Earth orbit in two hours and forty-two minutes... Haggins had no chance of forcing his way through the double-shielded, armored doors and reaching the bridge in such a short time.

Berksley scanned the panoramic portholes with weary eyes. Large glass panes filled the entire front of the room, revealing the stars streaming monotonously above the illuminated rows of monitors...

"Closer and closer," Berksley muttered under his breath.

Just two and a half more hours...

Two and a half hours and Angela Prime would be within range of the backup transmitter. Once in orbit, she would broadcast an emergency alert, explain the entire situation, and order ground crews to organize a quarantine of the vehicle. As soon as she landed, Federation forces would storm aboard, disable Haggins, and destroy him, along with that damned parasite that had taken control of him...

"And this damn nightmare would be over!" William hissed to himself, his hand tightening on the butt of his twelve-shot pistol. "

It would be over..." he repeated mentally. "I don't even remember when it started...

A DAY BEFORE..."

The Angela Prime's final mission was slowly drawing to a close. Commanded by Captain Samantha Swift of the Federation Interstellar Force, the operation had gone flawlessly. From the launch countdown, through the hibernation flight, to gathering measurements from the newly discovered planet with the hololocation code NGRX-277 and the commencement of the return flight to home Earth, everything had been meticulously planned and perfectly scheduled.

For a ship operated by a crew of only five, the Angela Prime was truly impressive in size. Shaped like a cross between an inverted "Y" and a slightly irregular cylinder, the spaceship was already somewhat outdated. Its design, based on six photon engines arranged in two series on the rear fuselage, was from a previous era. Both the Angela Prime and its onboard equipment were now useless for anything but minor research missions, like the one the ship was currently conducting...

"Damn," the captain snorted, glancing merrily at the monitors sparkling with calculations and various technical information. "If this continues, we'll finish our mission early..."

From the other side of the room came the throaty chuckle of a bearded man.

"Captain," the bearded man muttered, holding back another fit of laughter. "I thought this was a perfectly positive thing... The captain might be completely out of her depth, but I just remembered I probably didn't activate the automatic fish feeder before we left..."

The slender woman turned toward the bearded man, along with the entire chair.

"Haggins," she muttered mockingly, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me 'Captain'?"

John Haggins, the Angela Prime's technical officer, grinned ironically.

"Just as long as I remember, Captain."

Samantha gave the bearded man a look in which any semblance of sympathy was doomed. The disciplined Californian simply didn't care for the loudmouthed, gruff New Yorker... There was something about him that made her untrustworthy... Perhaps it was his constant teasing of the ship's technician, Vladimir Korozov... Or perhaps it was that inhuman, animalistic glint in his eye?

"Even assuming Captain turned on the feeder for her fish..." Haggins began after a moment of silence. "Why should we be concerned about completing the mission faster than planned?"

Samantha forced a smile onto her face.

"I'll be the first captain of a research vessel of this class to return from a mission not only without delay, but even ahead of schedule..." She joked, turning back to the computer console. "That's a real disgrace.

" "Yeah." The bearded New Yorker took a sip of coffee from the plastic cup he held in his left hand. "It's a real slap in the face for our Captain, anyway. It's almost as if the Russians managed to complete their five-year plan in less than twenty years...

" "Very funny." The bass voice of Vladimir Korozov, the ship's medical officer, echoed in the corridor. "I'm not accusing your nation of historical errors, Mr. Haggins! Not the twentieth century, not the era of neural circuits... I would also be grateful if you would treat me in the same way." Or perhaps you'd really like to exchange opinions on the American defeat during the fight for dominion in the Persian Gulf, or on American imperialism at the end of the twenty-first century? Or perhaps the term "Middle Eastern carnage" seems more relatable to you?

The smile on Haggins's face vanished instantly.

He'd often played melodies he wanted to hear on Vladimir's patriotic chords.

Apparently, however, the massive Russian had already learned how to defend himself against his music.

"Korozov," the New Yorker tossed over his shoulder. "Okay, fine. A temporary ceasefire.

" "According to tactical principles, my dear Mr. Haggins, it's always the losing side that asks for a truce. So can I consider myself the victor?

" "Boys, boys!" Samantha interjected, interrupting the fruitless conversation just as Haggins was opening his mouth to deliver another blow. "Perhaps you two could finally give it a rest?" I've had enough of your arguments, which have been haunting me for far too long...

"As ordered by the Captain," the bearded New Yorker mumbled as he left. "I was just joking. If anything, I'll be at the technical center..."

Korozov followed the American to the door with a dismissive look.

"I've had enough of him, honestly.

" "Vlad." Samantha smiled broadly at the Russian, clearly distancing herself from the topic of the loudmouthed bearded man. "How did you sleep?"

Vladimir smiled back.

"As always, Sammy." The broad-shouldered man stretched like a lion basking in the hot sand of the African steppe. "I slept like a bear...

" "And you snored like a dragon," the Captain added. "I even heard it in my cabin..."

The Russian laughed in his booming bass.

"Coffee?" Samantha narrowed her deep, green eyes flirtatiously. She couldn't hide the fact that a special bond had developed between her and the Russian medic over the course of this—and the two previous—missions... A special bond... Or perhaps it was even a feeling, held back only by the somewhat unusual circumstances of their acquaintance? Perhaps, once they reached the surface of their home planet and exchanged their gray spacesuits for civilian clothes, this feeling would explode with a full panoply of passion, heat, and desire?

Miss Swift dreamed of it discreetly, yet unable to take even a single step toward realizing that desire... She wanted it... At the same time, she was deeply afraid. She had been hurt by men too many times, she carried too many unhealed scars from hurtful relationships on her heart... But... Maybe this time she had finally met the one?

"Sammy?" The Russian raised his right eyebrow, gazing at the charming face of the black-haired Californian. "Why are you looking at me like that? Is something wrong?"

Samantha shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She hadn't even noticed that, deep in thought, she'd been staring into Vladimir's brown eyes for two minutes.

"Nothing, nothing," she replied quickly. "Sorry, I was lost in thought.

" "Sammy..." The Russian grabbed her hand. "I have something to tell you..."

Captain Swift felt her heart begin to beat much faster...

"Forgive me for interrupting this delightful idyll, but we have a problem." Haggins's head suddenly appeared in the doorway... His face was clearly worried... "A serious one at that."

Barely a second had passed since his words echoed in the oval room, and the entire bridge was shaken by the fury of the alarm sirens...

EMERGENCY

William Berksley, the Angela Prime's chief navigator, was racing frantically down the narrow corridor, hurried by the alarm signals blaring all around.

"What's happening?!" "He roared with the full force of his voice, sprinting quickly to the command bridge.

His eyes widened in horror as he saw flashing red technical warnings flashing repeatedly across the glass pane of giant screens hanging from the ceiling.

"Malfunction," Captain Swift hissed, adjusting some knobs on the massive commander-in-chief's console.

"I see that." Berksley leaned over the co-navigator's chair, watching the young boy sitting there helplessly wring his hands. "Eddie, status?

" Edward Hopper, co-navigator of the Angela Prime and the youngest member of her crew, sighed anxiously.

"Engine one and two are inoperative for reasons unknown. They simply began to lose power suddenly and shut down completely. I had to cut off engines four and three, as without starboard propulsion, we were rapidly losing momentum... In just the first four minutes after the malfunction became apparent, the machine's momentum distorted our course by fourteen degrees...

" "Have you stabilized the course?

" "Unfortunately, the stabilizers also failed... Despite countermeasures from the emergency braking engines, we're still hurtling forward... Slowly, but steadily... If we don't get engines one and two working within the next 24 hours, we'll be so badly damaged that returning to our original course with our current fuel supply may be impossible... Willie, we're sitting in a damn metal box drifting through space in a direction known only to itself!

" "Damn." William jumped into his seat and quickly placed a miniature speaker/microphone set over his ear. "John, what's the cause of the malfunction?"

Haggins sighed.

"Unknown," he hissed after a moment. "We're sure it's not some external object, as the magnetic shield around the engines is still working properly, and if anything tried to breach it, it would whizz away, hurtling in the opposite direction... I've already checked the power relay system, but everything there also seems to be one hundred percent functional...

" "The propulsion reactor?" Vlad glanced uncertainly at the flashing monitors. Technology had never really appealed to him... "Maybe it's the power outage?

" "Korozov." Haggins frowned. "Of course, I checked it at the very beginning... Do you think I'm an idiot?

" "You know..." The Russian glared at him. "Since you're asking...

" "Guys," Berksley admonished them in an angry tone. "This really isn't the time or place... If we manage to get out of this whole situation, I'll even let you go at each other's throats, but for now, maybe you could focus on your duties?"

"Gotcha!" A howl of joy erupted from the bearded New Yorker's monitor. "Ladies and gentlemen! Please stop shaking your pants, I've detected a malfunction!"

Haggins made a triumphant gesture, raising his arms high above his head, but after a moment he stifled his joy, returning his gaze to the screen...

"It appears..." he continued, tapping the computer console's keys with his fingertips. "...that the cause of our malfunction is not inherent in the system at all. Nor is it a power reactor failure, as some less knowledgeable claim... Ladies and gentlemen, madam and herren, dear crew of the Angela Prime, everything points to the cause of our malfunction being one hundred percent organic!"

The bridge, save for the faint hum of the astronavigation equipment, was completely silent.

"Organic?" Samantha finally spoke up. "How do you mean organic?"

Haggins flashed a mischievous smile.

"We rejected the theory of physical engine damage from the outset," he began, tapping two keys to display a three-dimensional diagram of one of the engines on the main screens. "Any drifting meteors, pieces of metal, or ordinary debris dropped from other Starfleet vessels would have been immediately detected by the sensors and then reflected off the magnetic field surrounding the hull... Based on this, we negated the possibility of mechanical damage to the engines... But there's another possibility... What would happen if the engine were to be slammed into not by a lump of space metal, but by a perfectly ordinary organic life form?

" "The sensors wouldn't have detected it..." Hopper picked up the thread. "The magnetic field wouldn't have been automatically activated." The object couldn't be deflected by the magnetic shield, so it could penetrate the engine casing and jam one of the drive belts... Brilliant.

"Exactly!" Haggins applauded cheerfully.

Samantha shook her head.

"Wait a minute..." She muttered uncertainly. "But wouldn't it take something very, very large to stop one of the gigantic drive belt lobes, one covered in a protective metallic mat?"

Berksley bit his lip.

"Something very large, Sammy..." he said hesitantly. "Or a huge amount of something very small... "

GUESTS

- Leak tests completed. Positive result. Exosuits ready for the walk.

" Berksley's voice trembled slightly as he pronounced the last word...

"Walk."

Wasn't that a clichéd description of suddenly finding yourself face-to-face with the terrifying, ubiquitous emptiness of the universe?

William had always feared these kinds of "walks." The mere thought of crossing the safe threshold of the ship's outer shell and finding himself in the center of the cosmic abyss gripped him with an icy, ossifying dread.

He felt it spreading through his body in that moment...

But it wasn't just the fear of stepping out into the galactic void... It was something much more. It was a fear that came from the heart, not the mind... An irrational fear of the soul, gripped by something unknown, something...

...What was yet to come...

"Willie?" Haggins tapped the transparent dome of the Berkeley helmet. "Are you all right? You've turned strangely pale... "

The red-haired man merely nodded.

"Everything's fine," he panted, gritting his teeth. "Let's go."

...Something that was yet to come...

"Control Center, this is John, confirming exoskeleton suit checks. Captain, open the airlock to the Gate. We're ready.

" "I accept." Samantha's voice seemed slightly distorted by the rapidly depressurizing room. "Good luck, guys."

The metal airlock opened with a hiss.

"Remember what we agreed, Willie," Haggins reminded. "No unnecessary risk. No matter what lifeform we encounter down there, we leave that damn thing alone, use the wave thrower to detach it from the engine fins, and get back on board as quickly as possible. Got it?"

Berksley sighed loudly.

"John," he replied after a moment. "You don't have to tell me that for the seventh time. Whatever we find down there, I guarantee you I won't be taking it back as a souvenir.

" "Good, Willie." Haggins stopped at the Gate control console. "Ready?"

Berksley bit his lip.

"Ready."

The bearded New Yorker placed his hand on a large, round button and pressed it with all his might.

The fifteen-meter-wide Gate began to open silently, bathing the two "strollers" in a blaze of starlight.

"Space," Haggins whispered, not hiding his fascination with the image of multi-luminous beauty. "The beginning and the end. The end of everything... And the place where it all began.

" They crossed the edge of the Angela Prime's rock.

Their first step was hesitant, modest, as if filled with a desire to humble themselves before the creative vastness of the universe... Even though the neotitanium veins held them tight like the leash of a dog eager for adventure, and the magnetic field surrounding Angela Prime would have prevented them from straying too far from the hull anyway, a cold shiver ran through Berksley. With trembling hands, he gripped the rivets of the ship's skin, following Haggins in front.

"It's an incredible feeling, isn't it, Willie?

" "Yes, John... Yes. Truly incredible.

And terrifying," he added silently.

If someone were watching them from the side, they might have said they were moving at a snail's pace. But for both men, encased in their white exosuits, it was a true thrill ride, a near-freewheeling ride...

Haggins overtook Berksley by a few meters, leaping into the recess of the hull in two quick leaps. The sight of two enormous engines mounted on the Angela Prime's starboard rear wing unfolded before his eyes...

"Oh my god...

" "What happened, John?" William's voice suddenly took on a note of concern. "What's wrong?"

"Get in here, Willie. You won't believe it... Oh my god... There are thousands of them. Hundreds of thousands..."

Berksley raced forward as fast as he could, but the gravitational magnetic field, which was creating partial eddies, made his movements significantly more difficult.

"Thousands of what, John?

" "Willie." The New Yorker's voice faltered for a moment. "I haven't the slightest idea."

COMPLICATIONS

The sound coming from the speakers mounted in various parts of the command bridge broke up periodically, supplementing the gaps in transmission with an unpleasant hum...

"Nonsense... ye... truth... Willie?

" "Yes, John... truth... esa... ite..."

Samantha slammed her fist on the communications console.

"Why the hell does it keep breaking up like that?!

" "Old technology, Sammy." Hopper twisted around in his seat, checking something on a small printout. "Unfortunately, the Angela Prime wasn't yet equipped with hydrolysis relays... We're operating on ancient radar links." And the ship's armor plating, unfortunately, creates a barrier of interference between them and us... I suspect that once they reach the engines, the signal will disappear completely.

The Californian nervously glanced at the onboard clock.

"Great," she said through gritted teeth. "So in other words, at the moment of contact with these unfamiliar organisms, assuming, of course, that Haggins's theory proves true, they are completely alone?"

The young astronavigator nodded.

"A pile of junk." Samantha bit her lip in a gesture of helplessness. "I should have gone with them!

" "'Rule Four of Act Eight of the Federation Starfleet Code,'" Vladimir recited with encyclopedic precision, leaning back in the captain's chair. "It is the duty of the crew of a Federation Starfleet starship to avoid at all costs any threat to the life or limb of the crew captain, who, in space, during a breakdown in communication with higher-ranking units, is the sole representative of the will and authority of the Star Federation." Any questions?

"None, Your Honor." Samantha fixed her piercing gaze on Vlad's face, lit up by a charming smile... Her heart began to beat faster again...

She longed to be in his arms right now... She longed to snuggle into him, absorb his warmth, smell his wonderful scent... So much...

"Oh, please... don't..." the crackling speaker drawled.

Silence fell on the bridge. Everyone focused their attention on deciphering the increasingly buzzing transmission, interrupted by repeated bursts of static and crackling...

The signal faded further and further.

"What... was... John? What... st?"

- Actually.... Willie. I don't believe.... A.... nno... There are their.... ce.... Se..... cy.

- You.... ce.... ego.... hn?

"....uh....no....m....on....ego....me..."

Suddenly, a long beep rang out.

Hopper glared at the monitor.

"Damn," he hissed. "We've lost the signal."

Korozov spun on his heel and walked over to the other navigator.

"Isn't there some way to boost this signal?

" "Of course it would." The young navigator snorted softly. "Give me a twelve-man technical crew, two transmission defibrillators, and two weeks of time, and I'll come up with something...

" "Damn it..." the captain cursed, resting her head on her elbow. "Today is not my day."

Vlad's warm hand rested on her shoulder.

"Sammy," he whispered in her ear... As she felt the warmth of his breath, she was suddenly overcome by an incredible urge to snuggle into his arm... "It'll be alright.

" "Let's hope so, Vlad." The Californian buried her face in his hand. "Let's hope so...

" The Angela Prime drifted slowly through the vastness of space, slowly but inexorably, its drift course increasingly deviating from its planned direction...

Time was ticking...

Two hours had passed since the static had broken transmission contact with William and Haggins...

One hundred and twenty long minutes of waiting...

Each one felt like several hours...

Samantha turned in her seat, closing her tired eyes. The bridge was silent, except for the sound of Hopper's loud snoring on the console.

"There's nothing like a good cappuccino," the captain said casually to Vlad, who was sitting next to him. "That filth they've stocked our ship's galley with can hardly be called coffee...

" "Lura." Vlad lifted his head from the backrest.

"Excuse me?

" "I think 'lura' would be a more accurate term."

Samantha smiled mischievously.

"When we're back on Earth, I'll have to take you out for a good cappuccino, Miss Swift."

Samantha extended her hand to Vladimir...

He took it in his warm hand...

"Vlad...

" "Excuse me, Sammy?

" "I need to get you something..."

A loud crackling sound from the speakers interrupted her.

The signal returned.

"Repeat... m... John... f... n... n... t... s... s... t... you... I... repeat... John's hurt!

PARASITE

"Damn! Get me the suction cup, quick!" Vladimir rubbed his face with a blood-smeared hand.

The machine monitoring Haggins' vital signs was starting to go haywire.

He was dying.

"We need to wash the wound as quickly as possible and extract the shreds of the exosuit." Vlad grabbed a long scalpel and, with a quick, decisive movement, slit the skin of Haggins's torso. "Compressor, Arknosan, water! Hopper, wash it with amoidin! Quickly!

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep."

On the small medical monitor, a green line thrashed in time with the beeps in every direction, signaling that Haggins's heartbeat was starting to get faster and slower.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Berksley sat leaning against the wall.

He tried to focus, but his mind kept swirling with images, sounds, words from an hour ago... Fractured sentences... Screams...

"John, don't get so close. Remember what you've been telling me for the last hour: no unnecessary risk."

Haggins wasn't listening. Step by step, he was getting closer and closer.

"Easy, Willie, easy. That damn blaster's range is a bit short..."

"John, don't get too close."

"Damn, I have to get closer, otherwise I won't be able to clear those things from behind the center wing..."

The antimatter blaster was doing a great job of detaching that... thing from the hull. Small, egg-shaped, organic spheres, covered with unusually sticky hairs... Properly directed, low-intensity antimatter waves caused those tendrils to contract—and a moment later, the sphere would break away from the ship and soar into the vast void of space...

"John, stay away from the support. It's riddled with that stuff."

"Jesus, Willie, shut up, will you? I know what I'm doing!"

A flash.

A tiny, barely perceptible flash on the surface of one of the spheres, a meter from the advancing New Yorker... After only a second, it was too late to dodge. The sphere exploded in a mist of greenish droplets, sending its entire contents toward Haggins. The round creature's greenish guts, resembling human vomit, struck the exosuit with such force that if it weren't for the ship's protective magnetic field, the bearded American would have soared into the void of space.

"John!!"

Haggins slowly stood up, coated in the sticky innards of the organic sphere.

"Phew... I'm fine, Willie. But that stuff covered my visor, nothing..."

A scream.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The patient's heart rate, registered on the bluish screen, began to fade.

"Hopper, give me those forceps! Go!

" "God, there in the wound! What's that?!

It's moving!

" "Give me those forceps!!!

" "Sammy, move away!

" "Jesus!"

Vladimir grabbed the metal tongs with a quick movement and plunged them ruthlessly into the open wound. Blood sprayed directly into his face. He gritted his teeth, hearing the computer beeps coalesce into increasingly prolonged sounds, then with a loud splash, he ripped out the small organism trapped in the tongs...

Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeeeee....

"Oh my God?! What is that?!" Hopper jumped away from the thrashing little creature. "Korozov! Crush that thing! Crush it!"

The blood-covered black organism, shaped like a mutated cockroach, tried to free itself from the metal grip, kicking in all directions and wriggling around with two-finger-long strands.

"Crush it!"

Vladimir yanked the tongs, his left hand grabbing a metal jar on the table.

"Hopper, open it!" he yelled, groping for the lid button. "Press, push, and open!"

Edward Hopper didn't move. Terrified, he pressed himself against the cold wall, paralyzed, unable to take a single step, knowing it would take him closer to the creature, which was flailing in all directions. " Hopper

! Anyone! Those threads are getting longer! It's almost touching my fingers! Help me , damn it !!

Bleee ... He double-checked that the grips were strong enough to hold the organism, which, despite its small size, struggled with his hand for several seconds, then handed the metal jar back to Berksley, urged on by the uniform sound of medical equipment… "Throw it into that cooler! Just close the door tightly…" Vladimir glanced at the flashing red medical monitors in horror. "Damn it!! Resuscitation equipment!! Quickly!!! MIRACLES DON'T EXIST. " "That's impossible." Vladimir shook his head. "From a medical perspective, such a case has no right to exist! " "But it did, Vlad." Berksley glanced uncertainly from Samantha to the tall Russian, still supporting his head with his hands. "It simply did." Vladimir shook his head again. He wanted to deny it. But to whom? To them? To himself? How could he deny a phenomenon he had witnessed with his own eyes! How could he deny everything that had been happening around him in the last two hours? He couldn't. And that was precisely what terrified him.

"I'll keep this short," Korozov leaned against the edge of the table, his thoughts beginning to swirl. "Haggins should be a cold corpse by now. In the entire history of medicine, there's never been a case like this. A man with a lemon-sized wound near his heart, having lost more blood than it would take to kill two large men... A man whose brain was deprived of oxygen for fifteen minutes, a man whose left lung had completely collapsed... He has no right to live, damn it! Miracles don't exist! There's only pure logic, untainted by the filth of superstition! And logic in this damn case is completely flawed! You want my point of view? Here it is: this is all completely fucked up!"

Berksley sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"What about this... This thing?

" "Exactly," Samantha interjected. "We have no guarantees that Haggins's return to life is related to his own bodily functions." Maybe it has something to do with that little thing?

Vladimir jumped to his feet, nervously pacing the table a few times.

"That's my first hypothesis," he hissed after a moment. "And the most likely one. The computer hasn't finished analyzing Haggins' blood yet, but as soon as it hits 100%, we'll be at least one step closer to finding out what's actually going on here...

" "Or a step further." Samantha managed a fake smile.

"No, you don't understand." Berksley nodded nervously. "I'm asking what you did with that thing... Can we be sure the container it's in is completely airtight and safe?

" "I don't know of any material tougher than Duroplast, Willie, and that's what this container is made of. Besides, I also wrapped it in an insulating bag and locked it in a double-shielded medical cabinet. It's safely stored."

Berksley nodded.

"Let's hope so, Vlad."

"Let's go," a voice called from the hallway.

A familiar voice.

Everyone held their breath.

Haggins.

[TO BE CONTINUED]