Cell Division
The Awakening
I remember now, waking up, terribly groggy and very stiff in the joints. It appeared that we had begun our descent to the surface. I don’t know how long I had been out nor how long before we would reach the end of our journey. Other than waking up in super cramped quarters, my only thought was that it was certain I would never see my family again. They were probably long dead by now.
Waking is not quite accurate as we had all been in cryogenic sleep. I looked around and there was no other activity yet. As we appeared to approach the surface, the capsule began to shudder tremendously. The violent shaking resulted in an involuntary workout for my limbs. Then, suddenly, the capsule skidded, bounced up, skidded some more and eventually settled, listing slightly. The predicted gentle landing was just enough to jostle, but not enough to lose one’s lunch.
Within moments, my comrades began coming to. First, it was Gerry, the tough guy. He was here to do all the heavy lifting. Gerry could tower over the best of them, and quiet though he might be, he was always up for a challenge that involved any display of his physical prowess. We called him Grunt and he was OK with that.
Then Trevor chimed in. He was our resident mechanic and could fix just about anything that squeaked, hummed or whirred. Sadly, his hygiene was less than acceptable and being frozen didn’t seem to help in that department. With only the occasional objection, he was content to answer to Tech.
Third was Ahmed, the philosopher. He was always one for listening to impressive orators from all over. He appreciated ancient history and even found ways to cover himself in some manner of costume from the civilization in question. For us, he came to be known as Aristotle.
Next, Paula perked up. She was a looker and too hot to be left alone with any of us. However, she was also an expert in self defense, and no one among us was about to take her on. Things may have been a little awkward at times, because she was nice to have around, but generally, we gave her a wide berth, and, for our purposes, we called her Tae.
When we looked to the rear of the capsule expecting to see our last crewmember, we instead saw a gruesome sight. Angela’s chamber had malfunctioned and she would never again wake up, in any lifetime. A crack in the viewport, associated with excess moisture on the inside, seemed to point to a failure in the pressure system. She probably died during take-off. Had she lived, she was to be our electronics wizard. I guess we could only hope that her new job was to watch over us and keep us safe.
By the way, my name is Jason. I am supposedly the brains of the group. My career back home was going well but I faltered and, as luck would have it, ended up alongside these misfits. Somehow I was saddled with the nickname Jack, as in ‘you don’t know …’. All in all, apart from Aristotle who was to keep us sane and focused, the team was designed to be quite innovative and self-sufficient. I didn’t like Aristotle too much.
Orientation
After checking our general condition, and briefly discussing the eventual disposition of Angela’s body, we activated the capsule’s external sensors to test for anomalies in air, temperature and radiation. Wielding nothing in the way of weapons, we cautiously ventured outside.
We had touched down in some arid, inhospitable, desert. Sand dunes undulated as far as you could see and no obvious prospect of finding water or food any time soon. We had some starter supplies on board, but we would have to consider improvising immediately. Small sand storms came and went quickly, impeding our movements. Tiny creatures burrowed under the surface and something was flying high above us, but even if we could catch either, feeding this crew would take a lot more.
Had we landed in some more hospitable zone we could have established a make-shift camp using local cover but this area was no place to remain for an indefinite period of time. We decided it best to explore when we could and optimize our search patterns. At first, we would fan out away from the capsule, never losing sight of it. That kept our reconnaissance fairly safe as far as we could tell and lasted only a short time. We ventured further, in the cool twilight, and always in a controlled manner so as not to get lost. We would meet up later and report our findings, if any. We had no shelter other than the capsule itself which made the hot and cold extremes somewhat bearable but very uncomfortable. The chambers were not like our old cots.
On one adventure Grunt had seen what he thought was the edge of a cliff, not rising up, but falling away. It was too far for that day’s trek so he had to return. Aristotle dismissed the cliff notion since that would mean our ever-present sand dunes sat high upon a plateau. Not a typical situation. I tried to keep an open mind about it. We noted the direction for a joint outing when the time was right. Tech was all keen on rigging a way to repel to the bottom if there was one.
Tech also found something interesting. A small gulley, as though a relatively heavy object had been dragged through the sand, along with some inorganic, unknown, material that did not belong anywhere in the dunes. It gave us hope that something had passed by and the material was somehow left behind. At least there might be something or someone to look forward to.
Why us, why here?
At the time of my incarceration, the government had been coping with the public’s pleas and riots aimed at keeping the death penalty in effect. Murder had been outlawed long ago, but a growing number of violent offenders, who had exhausted their appeals, had been sentenced to death or life in prison and had to be dealt with in some accelerated manner.
Every time the latest batch of offenders reached thirty-six, we were herded into a collection of holding cells. We were profiled for skills and weaknesses and underwent extensive training to round out our talents, making us more useful to those with other skills.
Once trained, we were divided into six cells each holding six inmates, each having different skill sets yet similar sentence durations. We had all received orientation sessions covering the next phase, but nothing could have really prepared us for cryogenic freezing. The cell we were in was gassed, as was customary, to make us all docile. Then, each of us was put into a chamber, lying horizontally, the lid was closed and some pumps started up. I remember getting sleepier, but not before seeing green fluid filling the chamber and completely covering me. I struggled, but to no avail. I blacked out.
Though I have no memory of the next step, we had been told that our cryo-capsules would then be loaded onto freighters and launched into space to meet up with the Sentence Station orbiting the planet.
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A Sentence Station holds several cryo-capsules, each destined for release once the appropriate sentence duration has been reached. No one was expected to die, despite the fact that we now have evidence to the contrary, but it was essential to help the planet overcome its rapidly escalating criminal element.
A Criminal Element
My race had long since dealt with environmental calamities, famine, natural disasters and even conventional and advanced warfare, but this latest scourge was beyond even our capabilities. All of our strength, intelligence and weaponry could not stave off the rapid spread of a minuscule, insidious, bacterium. Our scientists called it some unpronounceable gibberish while the rest of us simply called it the Converter. It was explained to us that it gets in through any orifice, attaches to specific brain cells that control hunger and motor skills, and converts the hosts into flailing, ravenous, beasts.
Once the pathogen had spread and turned the resulting mutants into vicious killers, the ensuing wars wiped out most of the population, easy prey. Shortly after, the mutants began dying off as they turned on each other. All that remained for the survivors was disease, poverty and chaos. The pathogen left as quickly as it had arrived, without leaving a clue as to its source, but with the chaos came crime and violence for all of us otherwise unaffected.
The government could not imprison all of the violent perpetrators in the usual way, so drastic measures had to be taken. Following many rounds of debate and bouts of corruption, it was decided that freezing convicted criminals, while not terminating them, would be the only solution. Plagued by a broken prison system, convicts would serve out their sentences in space and let the future deal with the aftermath.
Our new home
Upon reaching the end of our simultaneous sentences, our cryo-capsule was targeted, jettisoned and its engines were fired. The rest, including a controlled re-entry and our release from stasis, would become automatic. After some unknown duration of travel, we entered the atmosphere, decelerating violently, and landed here, with one casualty. Perhaps it is fitting that we are nowhere near any electronic devices because only Angela would be able to decipher them.
Being frozen in space sort of made sense, we can’t escape ‘from prison’ and can’t hurt the public while incarcerated. The plan, though, is that we are introduced to a new place to live, maybe meet up with other ex-cons, and learn to survive according to some psychologist’s view of idyllic cooperation. That way the problem gets handled, the government fulfills its obligations and the public is placated. So why put us in such a harsh environment? Did they want us to die anyway? Did our capsule go off course?
Our keepers never gave us a clue as to where we might be heading when our sentences were up. They were optimistic, however, about us finding others like us as well as plenty of food. What they failed to mention was that they were collectively useless at plotting a course! Dropping us in this arid wasteland didn’t make a great deal of sense unless it was indeed the plan all along.
For all our attempts, we never found other cryo-capsules. There was to be no meeting up with other ex-cons to form any thriving community. With many long walks behind us, we had exhausted our supplies, and Angela’s flesh could only go so far. It seemed clear that we were going to starve and meet a meaningless end.
Sticking together as a group these days, it only seemed prudent; we set out on our planned excursion to find the so-called cliff edge. Weary and shuffling through the sand, I tripped over a flat, partially buried, solid object. Like a hard ribbon, each end stretched far off into the distance, but its width was roughly less than my emaciated frame. And the faint, light, regular markings, expertly positioned down its mid-point, were very puzzling. Our examinations revealed nothing worthwhile. We could not determine any reason for its existence.
To one side of it, we noticed another inorganic item, a plaque with an inscription almost too small to make out. Half of the plaque seemed to be missing, but the glyphs that remained appeared to look like “EGAS”. Above the inscription was another symbol “🡨”, but overall, it meant little to us. Though terribly confused, we were also elated by our discoveries, whatever they were.
Almost oblivious during our jubilation, Tech looked down and spotted a small creature moving across the narrow band on four appendages. We didn’t care what it was. We were all starving to death, be it poisonous or otherwise. We circled, in our usual hunting formation, to corral it. It stopped, trembling and cowering, then looked up. I leaned over, reached out, and pierced it through with my talon. I raised it for our closer inspection. It writhed in pain, whimpering and panting. We each took a long, lingering, sniff and chuckled together just before it slumped and died.
The creature had orange and white hair all over its body and appendages, and then a fifth, seemingly useless, appendage attached at the rear. We shared the furry morsel among ourselves and thanked it for providing some much-needed nourishment. It was just what we needed at that moment, and quite tasty.
To say the least, our options were few. Desolation surrounded us, wild swings in temperature affected our alertness and movements, and, of course, no food. Tired and starving, we looked back to the plaque in the sand. Nodding in unison, we looked in the direction implied by the symbol, as though it was pointing somewhere. With the narrow strip always to one side as our guide, we set out.
Happy ending?
We plodded along for what seemed like three cycles but perhaps it was only two. Hard to tell when there is no end in sight and you’re slowly being driven mad. Once the light fell below the horizon, we could make out some shapes in the distance. They were far but appeared like significant structures with an odd symmetry about them. As darkness came over us we could see a glow above the structures. No discernable points of origin, just a glow. Soon, more structures appeared and then a low, steady hum.
Had other ex-cons found a way to survive and build shelters? Maybe they have food! Maybe they are growing food? Hey, perhaps we can go dormant for a while. That would be nice. Our bodies haven’t enjoyed dormancy since coming out of cryo-sleep.
Still moving we came upon a curious structure. It was very small, colourful, and with a plaque similar to our guidepost. This time the glyphs were only “GAS” instead of the broken plaque’s “EGAS”. Maybe this meant we were getting closer to some special place. In any case, the structure was obviously old and no longer in use so I stepped over it and moved on.
We were closer to be sure. Now we encountered more solid bands in the sand with similar though different markings down the middle. The bands crisscrossed in all directions. Then, while bending forward to focus our gaze, we noticed countless moving specs on the bands, once approaching, but now turning… in fear?
Finally standing over what seemed to be some kind of hive, I could look into the pod resting atop the highest structure, a structure with a sharp point at the top. I saw even smaller specs, scurrying upright on two appendages. One of the creatures was tethered to the pod and hanging from it. I heard shrill noises coming from this particular one and many others. Curiosity and my aching stomach got the better of me so I had it as a snack. I reported my good fortune to my comrades and the mere sound of our voices seemed to first silence and then elevate the din from the creatures below.
Although it would likely be difficult to harvest this moving bounty of plenty, we decided then and there that this would be where we could set up our first camp. Once we gather and store enough from this hive, we’ll look for others.
