| Protoplasm | ||||
|
|
Dark confining solid walls, concrete floor, squeaking noises; shadows, dust mites, moist heavy air one can almost eat. Impenetrable darkness with a pervading sense of fear, and I am shaking. Where have they trapped us, I do not know? There is a sense of futility. I am sitting in a corner of a large concrete bunker, a disused private underground car park. There is no light, apart from some stray, weird illumination. Not enough to see everything, but sufficient to see that we are trapped. There are ten of us here, all have responded to the same advertisement. They said or they implied that we would take part in an experiment to test a new scientific application, and that we would be well paid. That was good enough for me. I have been without work for months since being laid off. I was desperate, and this looked like a golden opportunity to make some money, so I could move to another state and find work. You see, I have no family now. I was unemployed for so long, my wife left me and my friends drifted away. When this opportunity came along I was excited. I started to think that maybe I could retrieve my life and start again. Maybe my wife and I could start over somewhere else. And maybe I’m fooling myself. I don't even know where she is - she just wasn’t there one afternoon when I came home. Now - I’ve lucked out again. This is what I wanted. We are supposed to see what isolation does to people, but we are not isolated, well not from each other. Although I have spoken to someone here, actually no one else has spoken, as if the other person has the plague. There is some water, in a bowl, but no toilet or food. It’s as if we aren’t expected to be here very long. Light, I can see light, way over in the corner. There is a door or something - something or somebody. It’s a shape of somebody - I’ll have to go closer, maybe this thing is over. What is that, oh it’s another person? It’s clearer; no they have somebody else. This place, ugh, another spider’s web, ugh, another, it’s all over me. The gunk is in my hair - who screamed. Everybody’s running, what’s going on. Look out you idiot, you nearly ran me over. Somebody else just ran past me, what’s happening? This is awful, everybody’s running or hiding, some are screaming. I can’t see - this darkness - damn I nearly tripped over - oh, no oh - its - it’s a man - or what’s left, I feel sick: there is no head, just a body. Over there, I think I can hide. I’ll get into the dark over in the corner. There are only two left - two out of ten people. Something is out there and in a killing frenzy. I’ve seen several bodies now trying to get to this corner; all of them have had their heads ripped from their shoulders. This darkness and cold concrete, I wish I hadn’t - hadn’t what - I was desperate for work. That thing is closer, I can hear the moans, and the other guy is crying and whimpering. It doesn’t matter what you throw at the thing it just keeps coming. It looks human except for that thing in its mouth. I always wondered how I would react to terror. I thought you became incoherent and wet yourself, but I seem to be calm, although I am shaking. I haven’t seen the thing close up yet, only the bodies and a shape with something sticking out from the mouth. It must be nearly two meters tall. I’ve managed to get as far away from the other guy as I can. I’m in a corner; the rats are scurrying all over the place. I got a bite on my hand and I’ve torn my trousers. Oh shit, he got the other guy. He’s dragging him, sounds as if he’s coming for me. There are no screams now. Very quiet, a cool breeze is coming from somewhere with the smell of flowers. I feel very light and can see my family. There is a field of - looks like a big garden. Lots of trees and open spaces and the sun is so warm. I think I’ll lie down now and sleep. I feel so tired - somebody is shading the sun - go away will you you’re blocking my light. Huh, the, the, I’m choking, my shoulders, I can’t breathe. My shoulder is so sore, I -I, my arm it - it's. My - bad breath - the mouth is open, lips are - there is a long needle - he’s - he’s going to - my head, he’s pushing that thing into my head - shit - the - pain. ‘Is that the last one?’ ‘Yes, the time is thirty seven minutes.’ ‘The contractors can start pouring the concrete. They have a ready made foundation, without any effort.’ ‘The concrete bunker was useful.’ ‘I have recalled the Protoplasm.’ ‘Good, now we can answer their requirements for a ‘Droid to go into deep space.’ ‘Whatever is on Alpha Centauri, our friend can deal with it.’ ‘Don’t you feel a little queasy after what we have done?’ ‘No, our testing had to be done, and this was the only way. Jeppeson, one day the Human Race will travel to the stars and our pathfinder will have been there before them.’ ‘Yes, but -?’ ‘Stop worrying, they wanted something that could feed in any environment, well they have it - Protoplasm.’ The senses awoke at precisely the moment of entry to the atmosphere, as programmed. The returning signals would confirm the fact that the child of creation was aware of its surroundings. Brain waves activated, the eyes slowly opened on an opaqueness pulsing with energy and light. Dark at first then as the eyes became accustomed the lights grew stronger. Nerve endings activated a controlling sequence, toes flexed, and fingers moved as the body became aware of being. The opaqueness lifted as the shield was withdrawn. The surrounding cocoon receded into the holder and he was alone on the support. There were no attachments; the energy field had supplied all life support. The head moved about as the programming triggered memory. Movements were recorded as he moved to the edge of his holder. Testing the floor and his limbs' response, he was now confident of standing without support. The console beckoned as his memory told him to check incoming data. Sitting and adjusting to the moving contours of the seat, the eyes surveyed the images coming in from outside. Shimmering light abounded from the craft as his sensors sought to define the shape of this new environment. ‘Has he responded?’ ‘We have life support data and conclusion.’ ‘And -?’ ‘That is all we have. The dust is confusing our telemetry.’ ‘Is Pathfinder on course?’ ‘We don’t know at this moment, all monitoring has been disconnected.’ ‘What do you mean disconnected?’ ‘Exactly what I said, all monitoring has been ceased.’ ‘How was that achieved?’ ‘Pathfinder has adjusted to the environment. The ‘Droid has become active and has ceased all communication.’ ‘Is it on course for Alpha Centauri?’ ‘In twenty-four hours the craft should clear the dust.’ ‘Yes?’ ‘We will then assume direct contact. Protoplasm will be asked for the reasons for non-compliance of communication directives.’ ‘What if it doesn’t reply?’ ‘If that happens, you explain the loss of a billion dollar experiment.’ ‘Jeppeson, are you on the same planet as me, explain this problem more succinctly.’ ‘The dust was magnetised, as expected. All the major problems were studied in a sterile environment.’ He exhaled slowly as if talking to a child. Turning to his questioner he lifted his arm quickly extruding his feed tube. ‘You-you,’ the scream became pain as the head was punctured. ‘I hope Jeppeson is happy out there. Just imagine,’ the figure asked the void, ‘Sending a mere ‘Droid into that’. He shuddered as the telemetry told him of the extinction of the craft, as he had predicted. The sound from the machine demanded a response. ‘Yes Sir, as predicted, the craft was destroyed by the magnetic field.’ ‘Are there any humans in voice range?’ ‘No Sir, he is on another world.’ ‘Well done, we can’t have them sending us out there, it’s too dangerous.’ ‘I agree with you Sir, now down to business.’ ‘Yes?’ ‘We can’t expect the house to side with us on the environment issue, to the exclusion of vested interests.’ ‘What do you propose?’ ‘To put it bluntly, we don’t need the environment, so we sell it.’ ‘Can you get support from both sides?’ ‘Support, ha, ha, ha. You know,’ he said between the laughter. ‘I don’t need support. These humans do a better job than ‘Droids. Can you imagine they make billions of dollars from their own destruction? And, they simplify the process by making laws, which make it necessary to destroy something, before they can study their own demise.’ ‘Protoplasm, I salute you,’ the voice said. ‘You are the first of a new generation of life on Planet Earth.’ With a rush of wind the telemetry glowed, another message was incoming. The figure straightened under the lower gravity to his full height and watched. The hologram coalesced and formed, grey upon white, black, colours formed as his eyes adjusted. The voice sprang from the air. ‘You have been successful?’ ‘Yes Excellency, the planet is ready, the invasion can commence. They think that shape changers are science fiction.’ Protoplasm looked to the sky in the approximate position of Alpha Centauri and smiled. Walking from the room he wondered where he could find a good burger, he was hungry. Ends The copyright within this short story, it's contents and libability rest with the author. AustralianSenior.com has permission to publish this story on its media properties as part of the Short Story program. Please do not copy, distribute or steal this work. To contact the owner, please email our editor and quote the Author's name.
|
Comments
RSS feed for comments to this post.