T-Plus 17

The familiar situation of hearing alien noises in the bathroom should’ve been enough the first time. At this point, his new recurring nightmare would be of bathrooms and aliens instead of cannibalistic pedestals. The viscous sounds of sloshing liquid quieted as Oliver and Emerson stared at the bathroom door in high alert. They exchanged glances, waiting long enough in the new silence to where Oliver was beginning to wonder if the noises had stemmed from his nightmares instead. Right as his nerves cooled and the two were settling back into their spots, the sound of dripping water caught their attention. Yes, not inhumane squishes nor sloshes nor the weird slithering the aliens did, but the sound of water droplets hitting the metallic sink.

That wasn’t their imagination. As they exchanged another set of confused glances, the intensity of the droplet sounds had upgraded to a trickle of water. Oliver swiveled his head to stare at the other couch in the room, catching sight of Toast’s familiar mess of blonde hair. The trickle had turned into a constant stream now, the sound droning into their ears. As the trickle strengthened itself, a loud click echoed in the supposedly empty bathroom. The sound of water hitting the bowl of the sink morphed into water falling into a larger pool of water.

In a moment, Oliver and Emerson woke from their confused stupors. The doctor sprang to her feet without a word, grabbing their supplies nearest to the bathroom as Oliver threw a pillow to wake the other scientist. When the first one didn’t faze Toast, he threw several more, reinforcing each attempt with his voice and increasing the volume until Emerson took a backpack and dropped it on the scientist’s still sleeping form. The scientist awoke with a groan, clutching his stomach where the backpack now rested.

Oliver swung his legs, keeping his injured foot off the ground as he attempted to stand while leaning on the couch’s armrest. Emerson was already shoving bags and miscellaneous items into Toast’s arms, sweeping the room multiple times like a mother herding her elementary school children out the house.

“What’s going on?” Toast asked blearily as he threaded his arms through the backpack’s straps.

The sound of water splashing against the floor answered the scientist for them. With his weight balanced on his one good foot, Oliver turned to see water leaking out from beneath the bathroom door. The puddle expanded from the door to the bedside table in a matter of seconds, alarming the three of them. They hurried to exit, with Oliver hobbling and hopping after the other two.

Emerson was at the door first, pulling it open. Toast was at her side, still processing what was happening as Oliver struggled his way over. By the time he reached the door, the water pool had spread to include the feet of the couches and coffee table. The sound of the faucet running only became louder as they opened the door, and Oliver attributed it to the bathtub’s faucet running alongside the sink. As they stumbled outside, bubbles began to break the smooth water’s surface.

Ripples formed with the bubbles as the epicenters, spreading across the floor as the water continued creeping toward them. The tiny waves disrupted each other, some rings spreading further than their peers. More and more of them emerged as the pool of water continued spreading across Soup’s floor. The three of them spilled out into the hallway with the water following them. As they slammed the door shut, Oliver could see their reflections in the blobs that began to form and emerge from the water.

“What was that?” Toast breathed.

“I have no idea,” Oliver breathed out as he leaned against the far wall.

As they caught their breaths, Oliver’s eyes widened at the sight of silvery liquid creeping out from beneath the closed door. Despite knowing the doors were sealed tight to prevent such situations happening, he watched as a mass of water forced itself through the lock and pushed the door they’d just closed, open.

Several bubble clusters appeared and ripples staggered throughout the liquid in differing frequencies. In the light, the surface of the water had a rainbow sheen, almost as if there was a layer of oil on it. It drifted closer to them, and with every tile they conquered, the trio took ten steps back down the hallway. Soon the hallway was flooded with water, the deepest section being around Soup’s door. Oliver guesstimated the depth to be around their ankles. Not enough to matter normally, but the water continued to spread in a rapid manner, and soon pushed the three of them back out into the intersection.

The water level hadn’t thinned out too much, and looked like the depth was actually increasing instead. They could only catch their breath for a moment before moving toward the main corridor. As they turned the corner at the intersection, the silvery water also bended around the corner, intent on following them.

“Where the hell is this all coming from?” Toast exclaimed as he helped Oliver forward.

“Station’s water reservoir,” Oliver guessed, glancing behind them. “It’s the only place where all this water could’ve originated from.”

“Seems like the aliens might’ve found their way into something troublesome,” Emerson said as she led the way to the corridor.

“Are you telling me we’ve been drinking alien.... Whatever it is?” the scientist spat, gagging as he continued to drag the technician with him.

“Seeing how these things didn’t come out until now,” Oliver grunted, alternating between taking baby hops forward and lunging with his good foot. The jarring movements agitated his stubbed foot, and he had no doubt his facial expression was stuck in a perpetual grimace of pain. “You using the water probably alerted them.”

“And it hadn’t alerted them before?” Toast complained.

“Each floor has its own tank, so I guess we were the first ones to use the water down here since they made it their own.”

The water was still fast approaching them. After turning the corner, the mass of water had given up on conquering the entire hallway and resorted to make a beeline for them. The closer they got to the corridor, the thinner the water stream behind them became, but in exchange, it was chasing after them with increased speed.

They made it out to the corridor, not stopping until they touched the other wall. Oliver glanced over his shoulder again as he rested his foot on the nearest piece of rubble. They were very different from the slimy flesh-colored blobs or the rock covered spherical aliens. Compared to those earlier evolutions, these didn’t seem to have a form at all. Like with the rock aliens they’d run into, these seemed to have adapted to water’s likeness.

If he hadn’t realized something was odd and woken up from it, they wouldn’t have noticed the water aliens’ quiet invasion at all. It was a heavy thought: drowning in space. Suffocation, mechanical accidents, freezing, explosions, medical and experimental accidents were among the common types of death they could face up here in the Station, but drowning wasn’t among them.

He shuddered at the thought that they’d have to pay attention to any bodies of water from now on. First rocks, now water, the aliens’ methods of camouflage and adaptation was beyond anything humanity had seen since they advanced into space. His memories flashed back to the aliens they had run into on the second floor, back near the cafeteria. Correction, first rocks, then bones, and now water. At this rate, the entire Station would be taken over by the aliens before they could return and see what Triton’s response would be.

“It seems it lost us,” Toast muttered as they hugged the wall.

The stream of water that had followed them out of Soup’s room had thinned to a sliver not wide enough to be considered a trickle. It didn’t go much further than the archway that led into the residential area, but as they caught their breath, Oliver could see more water join the main body from further in.

“Um, how much would you say the Station would get flooded if you dump the entire reservoir into it?” Emerson asked, getting ready to run again.

“I’m not too sure since I wasn’t in charge of building it nor am I in charge of maintaining it, but I think a quarter of a floor?” Oliver replied, lowering his foot. “Er, a quarter of a floor up to your waist.”

The trio kept to the wall, hurrying down the corridor. Behind them, Oliver could hear the sound of rushing water, which only served to speed them up. As they rushed around the bend, still keeping their right hands against the wall, Toast glanced behind them and started running. He grabbed Oliver’s arm and dragged him forward, pulling him towards Emerson.

“Run!”

Oliver glanced behind him to see a wave of water surge from out of the residential hallway into the corridor. More and more water pooled out into the corridor, quickly covering the floor in a silvery sheen. It covered the area they were in, and its area was expanding toward them. By the time the technician had recovered enough from his surprise, the edges of the water already licked his heels.

He slipped on the water, clutching the handrail on the wall to keep from completely soaking himself. Two steps away, a formation of bubbles form, rippling toward him. With some effort, he lurched forward, putting some pressure on his injured foot. He hobbled forward, lagging a few steps behind the other two, but just ahead enough to keep on the edges of the water. Every of his steps was accompanied with half a splashing sound.

Soon he could feel his ankles were damp. Either with cold sweats or the water that was increasing even when they were getting further away, he couldn’t tell. The other two had continued fleeing, although every few steps, Toast would look back and hurriedly drag him forward. Even when they continued their pace, the water in the corridor had reached their ankles, and soon to their calves. Now all three of them were trapped in the corridor with bubbling nexuses surrounding them.

“How the hell did the water reach us so fast?” Toast cursed as he turned back to pull Oliver forward again.

Emerson went back to meet up with them, directing them to a pile of rubble that stuck out from the water just high enough. With the two’s help, Oliver pulled himself out, the water dripping from his legs. Strings of water attached themselves to his legs as he climbed up, wrapping around his ankles. As Toast and Emerson pulled him up, the water tendrils snagged onto his boots and tugged back.

Pain spiraled up his leg from where the water pulled on his injured foot. The two scientists pulled him further as he struggled to climb out of the water. The water tendrils rose further, growing thicker and wrapping around his ankles. There were several moments where the two sides played tug o’ war with him as the rope and prize at the same time. Oliver gritted his teeth and kicked his legs, floundering against the water tendrils that were pulling him further into the water.

Wait. No. It wasn’t pulling him into the water. The water level in the corridor was rising again.

Other than a small stream that was still attached to the original source, all of the water that had spilled into the corridor was concentrated around their small hill of respite, desperate in its attempt to catch the only prey it’d seen for a long time. Soon, the water would reach where Emerson and Toast were still mostly dry as well.

“You should go!” Oliver urged as he continued struggling against the water tendrils.

They had crept up to his calves now. Or rather, the water had reached his calves, and the tendrils were only strengthened in their attempts to pull him closer.

“Hah! You can’t play the sacrificial hero role today!” Toast said, pulling out the blowtorches he had in his pockets. “Not while we haven’t tried everything!”

“Hensley, close your eyes!” Emerson warned as she climbed further up, leaving the two men to whatever Toast was about to do.

While still struggling, the technician could only do as the doctor suggested, shutting his eyes and gritting his teeth. He’d accept anything unless the scientist was about to amputate his legs with two blowtorches. A moment later, he heard the fizzle of flames against water and felt hot steam against his exposed skin. The hottest location was near his ankles where the tendrils had loosened their grip. With another tug, he managed to climb away from them, opening his eyes to see Toast wielding the blowtorches to evaporate the thin water tendrils away.

Oliver reached where Emerson was standing on the tallest portion, looking around to see they were surrounded by nothing but knee-deep water. Once Toast was done dealing with the tendrils, he joined them to survey their current condition.

“Wow, I always wanted to experience being on a deserted island on Earth, but I guess this is close enough, right?” Toast muttered.