《Red Star Outlaw | A Weird Space Western》25 | BOTTOM OF THE CANYON
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The construction lift thrummed as it sank deep into the canyon. Sujin McCrory spread his legs wide, leaning against his cane. Flanking his sides were the former deputy Russ, and the sheriff.
Russ leaned against the wall of the lift, one leg crossed over the other, hands in his pockets. Leroux stood at the ready, though the lift still had a way to descend.
Every so often the lift would rattle, creaking like a modular building in a dust storm. Sujin was accustomed with the lift and almost anticipated these, but Leroux seemed to lose his balance each time.
"So, you say you lost touch with the crew two days ago?"
"Communication ceased then, yes," confirmed Sujin.
"Ever lost comms with them before?"
Sujin licked his lips. "Comms have been a problem throughout the project. Due to the nature of constructing a straight viaduct across a winding canyon, the foundations each plummet to different lengths. Some rest on lower plateaus partially within the canyon, some are built into cascading canyon slopes, and others—like the one we travel to today—delve the entire depth of Noctis Labyrinthus, all the way to the bottom."
Leroux gulped, not even hiding his discomfort. Sujin wondered if the man suffered from claustrophobia. His discomfort brought the tycoon a small level of satisfaction, both because he had suspected the trip would have caused such a reaction in Leroux, and because he enjoyed seeing Leroux squirm. It reminded them both who was in charge.
Leroux stumbled after an intense rattling of the lift, then righted himself. "How long are the crew's intervals usually?"
"There are two crews. Each work twelve-hour shifts. Each man works six days straight and is given the seventh day off, but on a staggered rotation, so that the majority of the crew is ever working to complete the project."
"Don't they have to come up to replenish supplies?"
Sujin shook his head. "This is the man lift. There is an industrial grade freight lift large enough to carry the hover trucks full of supplies which runs parallel to this lift. That lift hasn't come up in three days now."
"What about the second crew?"
"They did not comm in for two-and-a-half—almost three days ago. The night crew went down to see if they were experiencing some sort of complication. When they failed to establish comms or return after their shift, that is when I grew concerned."
"And you're only now just going to see for yourself?"
"Wrong," barked Sujin. "I've sent two of my servants down as well."
"Let me guess. No word from them either."
"One static message that was indecipherable."
Leroux put a hand over his mouth and paced the lift, mumbling to himself.
"Speak up man."
"I said, this is crazy. We're walking into a death trap."
"Perhaps," agreed Sujin. "But there come times when I must see to things myself. I can't trust everyone to be as competent as me."
"Then why in shale did you need me to come along? You've got Russ already."
Sujin let the question hang, unanswered, turning his back on the sheriff.
The lift slowed, crawling to a halt.
"Look sharp now you two. Expect anything."
He outfittted himself with goggles and a respirator. He spoke through the muffled apparatus, his voice came out grainy, amplified by the small speakers. "I suspect that the crews have fallen under an unfortunate avalanche or possibly even contracted some sort of illness while stumbling on a natural gas leak."
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Russ fitted his face with the safety gear in silent obedience, but Leroux had to fill the void.
"That's cute. If they had the same gear as us, natural gas wouldn't make them disappear."
"Avalanche would quiet them though, for sure," chimed Russ.
"Speculation does us no good."
"Something got 'em. And we're walking right into a death trap."
"Keep your superstitious ramblings to yourself."
The double sets of lift doors slid open. Their goggles adjusted offering a lit up internal display, but even then darkness abounded. Though on the surface the afternoon light still shone, they were so far down in the crevasse of Noctis, hardly a ray of light dove down as far as they were, as if dusk had already come and gone.
The sheriff's respirator magnified his open mouth breathing, making him sound like a panting cow.
"Close your mouth."
"You know what's down here right? There's a reason other tycoons think you're off your rocker, and it ain't the money this project is costing you."
"Please. Don't tell me you believe in those unfounded tales of aliens fit for gullible simpletons?"
"They say there's beasts down here—"
"Stop."
"Creatures that crawl in the underdark, burrowing in caves. None agree on their appearance, save for the rows and rows of teeth."
"The more you speak, the less I trust your cognitive capabilities, Leroux. Pull yourself together. Can't you retain even an ounce of your masculinity?"
Leroux quieted, keeping his childish notions to himself.
Russ spoke up. "You know, as a kid I heard lots of tall tales. And everyone knows the tale of Coprates. To this day no one knows what happened to that settlement. Even the Arabs won't go near it despite having an abandoned oil rig just sitting there for the taking. Nor the drunken wandering nomads. They go out of their way to skirt around it. Everyone knows that bit of Rubrum is resource rich. Yet no one will touch it."
Sujin could not tell from Russ' tone if he truly believed the myths and rumors, the superstitious drunken ramblings of saloon patrons, or if he found joy in making more discomfort for Leroux. He assumed it was the latter, so he allowed it. He grew fonder of the man by the minute. Sujin congratulated himself on spotting and hiring the brazen man.
A revolver hammer clicked into place. Leroux held the gun out in front of him.
"Oh, please," said Sujin. "Pathetic."
Sujin noted Leroux stayed behind Russ and himself, using them as cover.
"Where to?" asked Russ.
Sujin pointed to a massive foundational support column in the distance. It stretched straight up, scaling the canyon, until it ended abruptly, still under construction.
After trudging up the uneven pathway, Sujin directed them around the massive column. As soon as they stepped in range, floodlights burst to life, blinding them until their goggles auto adjusted to the overwhelming LED blaze.
The scaffolding remained empty. Tracks left by the vehicles and steel-toed boots were the only sign anyone had ever been there.
Sujin pondered what on Rubrum happened to them?
There were no signs of an avalanche, no bodies buried under thousands of loose rocks and stone. It was as if they were blown away and buried by a Rubrun sandstorm.
None of it made sense.
Sujin had no answers. And that nagged at him. But the more he explored, the more answers he would have. He hoped.
They found an all-terrain jacktruck parked on the far side of the unfinished site. Again Sujin had to wonder why it was just left there.
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"You drive, Sheriff. Mr. Ghelus, keep your eyes peeled."
Leroux paused, but offered no objection, hopping into the cab. After powering it up, two beams streaming from the truck headlights cut through the dark.
The sheriff droned. "Where to now?"
"Let's head towards the previous column. It was completed months ago, but perhaps the crew became aware of a flaw or oversight."
"That's wishful thinking. Your crew is—poof—gone. We should leave."
Sujin gripped the head of his cane, tempted to remove the arcblade. "Do as I say, Blaine."
Leroux huffed, but they carried on, past to the previous column.
The floodlights there had been removed, leaving them in near total darkness, but not for their goggles and the truck headlights.
No signs of anything.
Only one place left to check.
On the way there, Russ' hand shot out, finger pointing to the canyon floor. "Look. Heavier crawler track concentration."
Sujin saw them too. The tracks led to their final destination: the toolshed.
They pressed onward. The construction crew had bulldozed through the ground at the base of the lift, making a direct pathway along the canyon floor to the temporary toolshed. Toolshed was a misnomer. It spread wide and stood tall, built into the canyon wall. It housed all of the equipment, from the individual tools for each man, to the large backhoes, excavators, dump trucks, and a drillcrane.
"The floodlights should have detected our movement within this range."
As if hearing Sujin's complaint, floodlights burst to life.
The hangar-wide doors of the toolshed hung ajar, like a massive metal maw. Like the crew had forgotten to close them. The floodlights illuminated the inside of the shed, but cast the back far interior in shadow.
"The fools. Why did I purchase such expensive precautions if they just left the doors wide open? Anyone could ransack the entire shed and have everything they need for a construction project."
Russ offered a thought. "Must have been ransacked by your competitors. Know any tycoons with enough gall to do just that?"
They stepped through the wide doors.
Large silhouettes of the massive machinery loomed, still parked in the shed, much to Sujin's surprise.
"Oh. Now that ain't right." Leroux's voice quivered through his respirator. "You didn't get ransacked. All the equipment is still here."
Sujin's brows contorted.
"Mean's nobody's working overtime either," said Russ.
Baffled, the obvious question ejected out of Sujin's mouth. "If they're not working, where are they?"
"I've seen enough. Let's get out of here and come back with a team of hired mercenaries. We're not fit to deal with whatever's down here."
"Keep your babble to yourself, Sheriff. There is a logical explanation for this, I'm sure."
"Like what? They all got offered better jobs and left in a hurry? You think they found a precious metal vein and struck it rich overnight?"
Sujin stepped further into the warehouse looking for some sign of what occurred. A pile of rocks near the far wall caught his eye. It was as if someone had taken an excavator and driven to the back of the shed and dumped it there aimlessly.
"Look at the mess someone made. Dumping a pile of rocks in here."
The three men drew nearer.
But even in the darkness the key feature were the splashes and former puddles staining the floor panels, now dried crimson.
The sheriff gasped, voicing the reaction that Sujin suppressed.
A lone light flashed on, but flickered, offering an erratic strobe light illumination.
From what he made out between strobes, Sujin realized that the lumps he'd taken for rocks weren't rocks at all. Pieces of his crew sprawled everywhere.
Leroux contorted, groaned, then ripped off his respirator and heaved.
White hot fury filled Sujin. "Who would have done this?" He rasped. "Who would dare?"
Someone was trying to send him a message.
The sheriff wiped his lips. "Who ? What do you mean who? What did this, is more accurate."
Sujin's lips quivered in silent rage. He'd find out who did this and destroy them. He'd send a message to all of Rubrum. You don't sabotage Sujin McCrory and live to reap the opportunities.
He steeled himself against the gruesome scene strobing under his feet. Using his cane to navigate the uneven ground, Sujin marched around the carnage, trying to make sense of it. Russ followed at his side, revolvers drawn and cocked. This time Sujin did not object to the firearms, though he doubted the savages that had massacred his men remained at the scene of the crime.
Without the lights inside working, they relied on their goggles and the strobing light bursts from the one damaged light. Sujin eyed Russ, waiting for a reaction, but the man remained stoic, ready for action. Small divots ran the length of the metal floor panels, but they were fitted together with precision, meaning none of the ichor had anywhere to seep into. Stagnant puddles of bodily fluid spread about the remains. It was like a scene from a serial killer's journal.
The initial rage wearing off, Sujin peeled off his respirator and heaved. At least that coward Leroux did it first.
The stench struck him full in the face, burning in his nostrils, followed by a chill breeze of stale air that tousled his hair. The stale air blew towards him, not coming from the opening at his back, but in the darkness ahead.
"Mr. Ghelus, what is that?"
The man shook his head, unsure.
What Sujin had taken for a large shadow was actually a hole big enough for the jacktruck to drive through, rent in the back of the shed, leading into the canyon wall, like the entrance of a cave.
The foul wind leaked from that hole.
The HUD inside his goggles blipped to life with a warning beep. Sujin gasped, taken aback. Someone crouched in the darkness, just before them in the hole.
He thought he saw the outline of a tall gaunt figure clothed in a tattered robe. But when he blinked the figure was gone.
Did he imagine it?
The hole practically emanated darkness itself.
"Did you see that?"
"See what?" asked Russ.
Leroux's babbling must have gotten to him. As if the carnage at his feet weren't bad enough, now he was seeing things.
A low rumble filled his ears. No. Not a rumble. A growl. The damaged light strobed more, like a thumping heartbeat, fueling his adrenaline and exposing his naked fear.
The shadow of a man stretched across the floor. Sujin almost gasped, but realized it was the sheriff standing in the opening of the lift door. Anger replaced his fear, anger at himself for letting Leroux's own fears get to him.
"Y'all seen enough, right? Let's go."
This time Sujin had no objections.
What of the low rumbling sound he heard? Must have been the toolshed shifting. Yes. That was it.
Sujin turned to go, but Russ stayed, transfixed on the hole, barrels pointed at it. His body language displayed all of the signs of one in a shootout standoff.
"Mr. Ghelus. Let's depart."
Sujin almost thought the man did not hear him. But then he spun his revolvers around his fingers and slammed them back into his holsters.
Leroux stepped aside as they reached the exit.
The growl rumbled again, sending tremors up Sujin's cane, through his hand, and up the length of his arm.
Leroux hissed a gutteral curse. "Ah, splintered shale."
A snake-like thing slithered out of the hole, crawling up to the ceiling, followed by another, and another. In the low light it took longer for Sujin's mind to register that they were not serpentine. They were tentacles, seeking tendrils belonging to some larger creature. Or creatures.
Leroux bellowed a wordless cry.
A tendrilled feeler grazed Sujin's arm. A spike of stinging pain caused him to reel back and utter a sharp cry.
He spun, running through the opening and tripped, losing his cane.
Sharp rocks dug into his chest and ribcage, dust ruining his tailored suit.
Russ stood guard, his back to Sujin, answered the creeping things with his coilguns. Gunfire erupted, breaking the silence, illuminating the dark. He caught a glimpse of Russ' best-shot-on-Rubrum claim.
Tentacles whipped out of the shadow, thick cords seeking to wrap them up and drag them back into the hole. With expert precision, Russ blasted each moving target. The bulbed tendril tips exploded in a firework display of electromagnetic shots and splattering alien gore.
Sujin expected the sheriff to help him to his feet, but Leroux already climbed into the jacktruck cab and revved the engine.
The tycoon almost reached for the small blaster in his coat pocket to put a blast between the sheriff's eyes, but Russ' arms grabbed him and scooped him off of the ground. Sujin snatched up his cane and the two of them stumbled to the truck.
Strange predatory snarls and alien moans stalked them, echoing from inside the cave.
They barely clambered into the truck when Leroux mashed the gas, leaving the lift in a plume of dust. Russ used the headrest of his seat to lay his arm over, eyes looking down his holosights, lobbing gauss blasts into the warehouse opening at the thing.
"Head for the freight lift," commanded Sujin. "It's closer. Drive the truck straight onto it."
The uneven bumps in the road lifted Sujin out of his seat the entire way back to the lift, but Sujin didn't mind. As long as they escaped.
The sheriff locked up the brakes, sliding to a stop right in front of the freight lift. He hopped out and mashed the button to open the guardrail gate over and over. "Come on. Open up already."
Of what they could see of the lift, it lay uneven, knocked off the track. It would not be making any trips back to the top ever again. One rail peeled away from the lift, like a big hand had pried it off.
A roar pierced the silence, echoing off the canyon walls. Or they weren't echoes. Could be a call and many answers, predators communicating to each other where to find the prey.
"Ah shade and shale," said Leroux, cranking the wheel, and hightailing it back to the man lift. Before long Leroux slammed the brakes of the truck. The truck slid to a halt and the three of them hopped out. Pain wracked Sujin's bum leg, but he clenched his jaw and squeezed his cane, absorbing the pain.
The doors slid open slowly. The three men barged into the lift.
Sujin strained his ears, but didn't hear the thing, or couldn't hear above the blood beating in his eardrums, or the clicking of Leroux smashing the close and rise buttons of the lift over and over.
They must have outrun it with the truck.
Russ posted against the wall of the lift, peering back at the way they'd come. But they'd driven so fast, they'd left their path in a dust cloud.
After what seemed like ages, the lift doors slid closed and it rose.
Sujin leaned against the wall, then felt his knees give out. He sank to the floor, ripping off his goggles and respirator, and sighed.
Russ' eyes locked onto the lift doors, transfixed. His hands still hefted his revolvers, as if he expected that thing to burst into the lift at any moment.
The silhouette of the thing burned in Sujin's mind. Dark it was, and golden eyed.
Leroux rambled incomplete sentences, switching between swearing at Russ and blaming Sujin for everything. His insults fell on deaf ears.
What was that thing?
His crew had not been destroyed by his competitors. They'd been hunted down and slain by a predator.
Where did it come from?
The thick shadow hole spread in Sujin's mind. They came from the canyon wall, from underneath.
The canyon dug like a wound down to the heart of Rubrum. Like everyone, he'd heard tales of predator aliens on the red planet. But he'd always assumed they were simply that—tales.
If they fed on man, why did they not attack the settlements? Did they fear humans gathered in large numbers? No. They'd killed a large crew. And they had not devoured the bodies. Sujin saw that himself. They left the dead where they fell. They didn't kill to satisfy some need for food. They slay trespassers on their territory.
Sujin snarled. "This is but a hiccup in the plans. A roadblock."
Leroux eyed him like he had gone insane.
This was where Sujin shined. Where others would see this as a defeat, he saw an opportunity. He just had to look at it from the right angle, see it in a way that others would never think to consider, and ponder this revelation in a new light.
A loud boom rocked the lift.
Leroux yelped.
Russ flinched.
The lift strained, groaning, as it fought to climb, but came to a grinding halt. Another blast knocked them all off of their feet. The lift lights sputtered, then gave out, plunging them into darkness.
This time Sujin wanted to wield his arcblade. What good would it really do though? The thing trapped them in close quarters. He didn't even know what it was. It could be indestructible compared to human weapons. There were plenty pieces of human evidence back in the toolshed to suggest that.
He went instead for his comm. It was a luxury model, with a boosted signal, one so strong that it cost more than some lower end hovercraft. Or at least as expensive as the hovercraft rescue he was about to contact.
"Page. Page, do you hear me?"
The assistant came through, muffled, but transmitting fine.
"Send the hovercraft to my coordinates. Burn all the fuel if you have to."
The panel nearest Sujin dented inwards.
"It's trying to get in," croaked Leroux.
The sound of metal being torn apart pierced their eyes. Tentacles shot into the opening, like fingers sifting through a can of caviar, looking to scoop out and snack on the three of them.
Russ' guns blazed. But with nowhere to run, backed in a corner, even being as good a shot as he was, there wasn't much he could do. Tentacles latched onto Sujin's new bodyguard, pinning him down. The thing's maw breached the hole it made, exposing rows of fangs. It fastened onto Russ' torso, tearing into him. The man's shrill screams needled from Sujin's ears to his soul.
Sujin hefted his burning arcblade, using it to hack into the predator. His blade passed through the creature's thick skin with ease. It hissed, retreating, leaving a bloodied Russ and the lingering foul odor of its scorched hide.
Sujin tossed his arcblade to Leroux and pointed to the lift doors. Then he removed his blazer and attempted to use it to stop the scarlet flow leaking out of Russ.
"What do you want me to do with this?"
Sujin yelled above the shots fired. "Quit your shrieking and get the lift doors open."
"Are you trying to get eaten?
"A craft is on the way."
"That thing could come back."
"We'll be devoured if you don't open it."
The sheriff gave him a sour look, then started hacking and stabbing with the arcblade.
Sujin shook his head, swearing. "I can't believe I've supported you this long. Really, Leroux. Your true character is on full display here today."
The chastened man gritted his teeth, wedged the blade between the doors and pried, until they burst open.
Not a moment later high beams from the hovercraft blinded them. Sujin raised his arm over his eyes.
Page stepped out of the lift ramp and offered his hand.
"No. Grab Mr. Ghelus. Gently now. He's badly injured."
Behind him he heard Leroux and Page clamber onto the ramp with Russ, but not without much yelling and groaning. Russ had gone into shock.
The ramp closed and the thing outside roared as if in pain.
Page navigated the craft up and out of the canyon at top speeds.
Leroux bounded into the cockpit, falling into two empty chairs and strapping in beside him.
Sujin hovered over Russ and began a tally in his head. An entire crew lost. Page would have to inform their families. In some cases he'd have to pay out life insurance claims. But he would still have to hire an entire new crew. The recruitment alone would cost him a fortune, not to mention the wages. And then he had to repair the busted lift, or build an all new one.
Besides all the extra costs, this would cost him life's most valuable and limited resource. Time.
"What was that noise? Did you destroy it?"
Leroux shook his head at Sujin. "No. The closing ramp hacked off a piece."
With a gloved hand he tossed a thick chunk of severed tentacle over. It landed with a splattering smack before Sujin's shoes. It writhed on the floor, as if it could squirm back to the rest of its body.
Sujin recoiled, frowning. "Disgusting."
Pain stinging in his own arm reminded Sujin he had sustained an injury from the alien.
His own hand throbbed, matching the twitching member, beat for beat.
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