Life signs were still visible on some of the monitoring screens, but even if the test subjects weren’t dead, they might as well be.
“What were they doing in this place…?” Cato said with disgust, inadvertently talking through his helmet speakers.
“This chamber is one of several which were requisitioned for experimentation by the Enthralled.” the observer explained, having overheard his question, “All surviving test subjects have since been ‘elevated’. The rest were abandoned.”
At the far end of the chamber was another fluid-filled growth tank, much larger than the others; in fact the top reached all the way up to the chamber’s ceiling. It was also the centrepiece of the lab, with a constellation of computers and other equipment connected to it, still churning out the result of constant scanning.
The specimen inside the tank wasn’t Human.
“What about this tank?” Gabriel asked.
“A leftover from the experiments your kind were conducting prior to falling under the influence of the Swarm,” the observer replied, “It appears that they were attempting to create a clone using DNA extracted from fossilised remains discovered within the observatory.”
The squad looked up in a mixture of fascination and disgust at the strange creature housed inside the tank. It had shrunken, stunted-looking limbs and claws like a lizard as well as an elongated tail. Its skin was egg-white pale, and its eyes were glossy black; it looked like an alien embryo grown to adult size.
“This thing looks like a half-grown mutant.” Bale observed with disgust.
“The DNA sample had already degraded to a fraction of the number of original base pairs.” The observer explained, “The experiment ultimately failed.”
“You said the DNA they used was based on fossilised remains,” Cato pointed out, “was this alien part of the original crew?”
“The observatory does not require an organic crew.” The observer replied perfunctorily.
“Well if there was no crew needed, then what was this thing doing onboard?” Viker demanded, “What kind of ‘observatory’ was this place?”
“‘Observatory’ is an imperfect translation.” The observer replied. “The term might be better translated as ‘observational facility’.”
Gabriel activated his gravity belt. Seeing his action, the squad did the same.
“You have activated your…untranslatable…devices,” the observer noted, “Yet the observer does not detect any nearby…untranslatable…threats.”
“We call them ‘gravity belts’,” Gabriel replied, “And before I explain why, how quickly would it take the Swarm to reach the central chamber?”
“From its current location, approximately ten minutes.”
“Viker, get behind me.” Gabriel ordered, turning his back, “I need your help.”
Viker paused for a second, then stowed his weapon and stood behind Gabriel.
“There’s a slot on the underside of the command module,” Gabriel said, “open it.”
Viker did as instructed, and the slot opened, revealing a turnkey with a small keyhole in the middle. The light around the key was glowing a dangerous red.
“Turn the key 180 degrees counter-clockwise,” Gabriel continued, “and be prepared to catch the module when it detaches.”
“I hope you’re not about to blow us all up, colonel.” Viker quipped wryly.
“Do exactly as I say,” Gabriel replied with deadly seriousness, “and we might just survive this suicide mission after all.”
Viker turned the key. The complicated set of mechanical latches holding the device in place unlocked simultaneously, and the ‘command module’ detached cleanly from Gabriel’s armour, dropping into Viker’s hands.
As soon as the bomb detached, a timer appeared in the corner of everyone’s HUDs.
‘30:00:00’, ’29:59:03’, ’29:58:08’.
“Now, attach it to the back of my belt.” Gabriel instructed Viker.
Viker duly pressed the bomb against the back of Gabriel waist, and the magnetic clamps on Gabriel’s belt latched onto the deadly payload, fastening it securely behind him.
“I have a theory.” Gabriel said aloud to the observer. “You were built in order to study how the Swarm influences organics, which is why you don’t need an organic crew.”
The observer was silent.
“The original alien from which this thing was cloned,” Gabriel continued, confident in his conclusions, “and probably hundreds of others, were used as lab rats for you to observe while the Swarm enthralled them one by one. And when you lost control of the experiment, you deliberately crashed into this moon and waited for the test subjects to die.”
“Come to think of it,” Cato added, expanding on Gabriel’s accusation, “you probably weakened the containment shield on purpose in order to let the Swarm corrupt the researchers and watch what happened. Except this time the Swarm was smart enough to figure out how to disable the shield indefinitely, until we restored it for you.”
Another round of silence.
“The observer has greatly underestimated your species’ deductive capabilities.” The observer noted backhandedly, “And it seems you do not trust the observer’s intentions.”
“Of course we don’t trust your intentions.” Gabriel answered, “Aside from the fact that you split us up against our will and hid the true nature of this place, you’re an alien artificial intelligence, and our primary mandate is to protect our species from alien threats.”
“So you wish to guard against any ulterior motive that the observer might possess by triggering the antimatter device’s countdown? That is logical.” The observer responded, “However, the Swarm does not know your current location, and the time estimate is based on the assumption that it heads immediately for the central chamber.”
“Well then I suggest you get its attention, and quickly.” Gabriel replied, “Because one way or another, this bomb will go off. Whether you’re destroyed along with the Swarm depends on getting it into the containment field along with the bomb.”
“If we fail, you will also obliterated.” The observer pointed out, “Does the voidstalker truly possess no sense of self-preservation?”
“I have five…technically six reasons to leave this place alive,” Gabriel answered, “but if I have to die to make sure they can live, so be it.”
* * *
The doorbell sounded and the intercom lit up with a video image of the caller. Roused from her anxiousness and self-pity, Aster walked over to the intercom and saw an Asgard Civil Security officer on the other side, flanked by two support androids. The intercom’s holographic display identified him as Detective Timothy Bell.
“This is Detective Bell from Asgard Civil–” the ACS officer began.
“I can see who you are,” Aster replied impatiently, “what can I do for you?”
“Is Aster Thorn available?” he enquired, ignoring her impertinent tone.
“You’re speaking to her now.”
“Open the door.” The detective ordered, “I need to speak to you, urgently.”
“Why can’t you just talk through the intercom?”
“Refusing to cooperate with the authorities is a criminal offence.” The detective warned her, “Open the door and I’ll tell you exactly why we need to talk.”
The maganiel android was still standing guard in the hallway, and Aster gestured for it to come over. Then, reluctantly, she opened the front door.