Exterminator : The Dark Beneath
Old friends

“Many science fiction movies of the late 20th and early 21’s century imagined space travel would one day be a personal endeavour, with ships as ubiquitous as cars and other forms of personal transport. The reality is far more limiting. The expense of the gravity folding Hawking-Noland drives severely limit their production, relegating their use to cooperative ventures, planetary navies, and the rare multi-trillion-airs. This also reflects the cost of passage. Travelling to another planet for employment may cost as much as workers make in a year, if not more. Many employers offer transportation loans as part of their job offers, workers can travel to a new planet to work but are required to repay their employer over time. This expense makes frivolous space travel rare for low or even medium income citizens. Never the less there remains a healthy amount of interstellar tourism amongst the elite.”

-Space Travel and its Cost, article in the Terran Observer by Dr Byron James, Dr of Extra-stellar Economics and Demographics.

9:30, 11th September, ARC Monorail

Jack leaned his head back against the carriage window and tried to ignore the disdainful looks he was getting from the business suited women across from him, and the cries and shrieks of excitement coming from the four children racing around the monorails wide floor space. Thank God it’s only a ten-minute journey from the Arc station hub to the Shuttle port.

“Well you know how little time off we get so this is the perfect opportunity to take the children on holiday for a few weeks “chattered one of the women, a tall willowy brunette, hair cut short in a business like style to artfully frame her delicately attractive features and tastefully tan.

“It really is an excellent idea, Abby” her shorter friend replied her darker skin and almond shaped eye suggesting Middle Eastern decent, “Thank you ever so much for inviting me and the children”

“Well, I’d get lonely without my best friend” the brunet remarked with a smile “and besides, I could hardly let your brood miss out on the chance to see Earth now could I. They’ve only seen pictures and videos of earth. Mathew keeps insisting that the seas and oceans are just large pools!”

Jack bit down on a surge of resentment. Travelling to Earth just for a few weeks’ holiday? The cost of it would be huge for 6 people, even if four where children, but the women talked about it like it was nothing. When he’d started as a Exterminator he’d carefully calculated how long it would take for him to buy a one way ticket back to Earth once his tour was finished and determined that if he saved half his total work check for the 4 years of his tour, he could just afford a ticket in a economy class transport.

He fumed silently at the injustice of it, whilst grudgingly admiring the corporation’s game. FTL space travel was vastly expensive, the drives and ships costing a fortune in rare materials and engineering costs. Larger companies or the military owned most ships, with only a few of the hyper-rich being able to build and fund their own. Before the incident Jack’s sole spaceflight had been paid for by his employer, but now as a private citizen he had to pay his own way back, which was part of the reason he accepted his current job slash deployment.

The two women continued to discuss the journey, shooting occasional glances over at him in the mixture of mild disgust and interest he seemed to generate now, as if they were seeing a strange exotic animal and dangerous criminal at the same time. Part of him wished he could stop just wear the Exosuit all the time in public. There was nothing like being able to set your visor to opaque to dissuade the odd looks. Well that and being packed into 250 kilograms of combat gear helped put people on their best behaviour. Alas regulations dictated that he could only use it in civilian areas if carrying out an extermination, so for now he was stuck in his eye watering black and yellow uniform.

To his relief the shuttle port finally moved into sight, the concrete pillars and landing pads topped with segmented metal domes, making it look like giant artificial lilies floating in the air. One of its many domes was opening as they approached, its shutters pulling back like a opening flower to allow a shuttle to land. The other domes remained closed to minimize dust exposure and keep out the planets cold, thin, atmosphere.

As they moved into the shadow of the pads the monorail slowed to a gentle glide into the glass and metal station hanging below the main pads. Several other trains hung along side of them, and one was being moved into place by huge automated robotic arms. As Jack stood he glanced through the window at the bases of the concrete pillars 40 metres below, shuddering slightly at the drop. He was confident in the quality of the engineering, but having grown up on earth in a two story house he wasn’t as blasé about heights as many colony born people. The kids stood excitedly by the doors with their mothers in tow, and as soon as they opened they charged screaming out into the huge station, racing across the transparent floor towards a huge two story clear-screen on the far wall, its partially coloured backing displaying shuttle and monorail timetables, whilst the clear glass wall of the station behind it permitted a view of the impressive cliffs in the distance.

The public part of the station was massive, a three story high central area with a roof formed by the huge concrete slab that formed the pad above, from which the station hung. The bottom level was open, with glass panelled platforms for trains to dock and unload when moved into position. The second floor was divided into cafes, restaurants, and shops, all set around a curving balconies and walkways, forming seating areas that hung over the main floor. The shops, floors, and walls were almost all formed of transparent materials, making the whole station feel light and airy, and coupled with the views from the suspension gave the whole area a feeling of grandeur, like a cathedral dedicated to travel. Offices and control stations for the monorail lay on this floor.

The back wall was the only space in the area visibly made of Concrete and steel. It was still covered in clear-screens flashing light and colour, but lacked any shops or offices as it was designed to shield the station from potential accidents in the shuttle port beyond. Several small blast doors led out onto the third floor, where arrivals from the shuttle port would pass through customs and immigration before walking down to the shops and monorails below. On the bottom floor was a large blast door, with a security gate and guards to prevent civilians from wandering into the restricted areas of the spaceport. Jack made a beeline for this, moving through the crowds of commuters, most just travelling from one station to another via the monorail, but a few waiting for shuttles to the further colonies on the planet or even to board the interstellar ships in orbit.

He walked up to the security station, the guards giving him polite scrutiny as he approached and started to pull out his smart-pad to show his I.D, but the guard on the left waved him through, having apparently recognized him from previous equipment runs.

Passing the door was like stepping into another world. Gone were the clean glass walls and bright lights, in their place was grey concrete and metal, yellow striped warning lines and the flashing yellow warning lights on cargo drones moving crates and boxes. The space was huge, like a football stadium with a vast concrete roof and huge storage bays instead of stands. Workers in orange jumpsuits moved back and forth, directing drones or talking to officials and customers. Jack walked towards the cargo office in the middle of the space, a tall pillar on which stood a class walled octagonal workroom, like the old aircraft towers on earth. From it the controllers could oversee the movement and storage of goods, directing them to be placed on cargo trains or shuttles, or moved into short-term storage.

He approached the bottom of the tower and caught the attention of a small group of workers.

“Hey guys, I’m here to pick up a shipment of parts for Sub-director Stevens. They should be in one of the safety bays”

The workers exchanged glances as one of them consulted a smart pad, frowning slightly as he found the file.

“Says here it’s been listed as volatiles and parts. Anything dangerous”

Jack raised his hand and waggled It back and forth.

“Yes and no. It should be fine in its containers, it’s mostly chemicals for nanite manufacture. We could use local stuff, but the labs keep using all the reserves the ARC manufacture”

A tall bulky worker leaning against the wall snorted and shook his head, his long bushy brown hair and beard making him look like a confused bear. “Yeah, same shit here. Exec types are more interested in breakthroughs and profits then us getting the little things like materials to keep the trains running and shuttles flying.”

The other workers chuckled darkly and the big man pushed off the wall he was leaning on and introduced himself as Rubin and the worker beside him, a skinny black guy with shoulder length dreadlocks, as David. He gestured to Jack to follow them as the two workers started walking across the cargo area, stopping occasionally to allow the massive four wheeled loading drones by. The area was in constant flux, with crates being moved to new areas. Part way across they had to stop as a lift began to descend from the ceiling, bringing down cargo from one of the landing bays above. The crates were large Gentech equipment modules, designed for delicate instrumentation and resources. As they moved on Jack caught a glimpse of some civilians standing on the platform as it descended, locked in conversation with the workers manning the controls.

“Bloody Scientists“ the big man bellowed over the noise, having following Jack’s gaze. “Insisted they accompany their equipment to make sure we didn’t damage it or something, like we’re some bloody amateurs!”

Jack nodded in sympathy, thinking back over all the time he and the other Exterminators got lectured on caring for valuable equipment, although he had to admit sometimes they may have been overzealous in the pursuit of their prey, and flamethrowers weren’t exactly precision instruments.

The worker led him to one of the smaller secure stations set into the east wall, tucked behind a angled concrete wall designed to deflect explosive blasts upwards rather than across the busy work floor. The area was surrounded by warning signs leading up to the cargo bays. They resembled metal hatches in the wall, with a set of double blast doors that met in a zigzag pattern in the middle. Other, similar, hatches lay along a 30 metre stretch of the wall, all with the same angled walls set between them, the idea being that if a bay’s contents exploded or caught fire it would prevent it spreading to the next one along.

“Well here you go,” Rubin informed him with a nod as David began typing on his smart-pad, causing the doors to slowly open, “All your cargo, stored as directed. I need you to inspect it and sign before we sort out transportation to the ARC”

The secure bay was small, three metres in width and height and five long. The cargo was stacked in the middle, a series of reinforced metal crates in military colours. As Jack moved forwards his Smart-pad started chirping;

“Warning, you are approaching potentially hazardous materials, please contact the nearest designated hazardous material officer, Warning, you....”

Jack killed the alarm mid sentence.

“Yes, I know , I’m the nearest bloody materials officer,“ he muttered and moved forward to kneel by the crates to inspect the seals. Finding no issues, he pulled back a cover to reveal a small clear screen, that flickered to life at his touch to reveal a number pad, into which he quickly entered his ID. The screen flickered and then started displaying the crate’s inventory. Most of it was fairly basic: replacement parts and seals for the suits, spares for the fabricators, and a collection of sealed containers filled with trace solutions to be fed into the fabricators to form nanobots.

He was just about to sign off when he noticed one crate didn’t seem to be presenting a I.D or inventory.

“Hey guys” he yelled over his shoulder to the two workers, pulling them from their conversation, “ this crate wasn’t on our order list.”

Rubin frowned and took the smart-pad from his friend. Typing he walked over to crouch by the crate in question. He finished the query and looked at the screen in surprise.

“Well, it’s legitimate alright, but it was approved by some high muckety muck in the science division, doesn’t say who” he finished with a slight frown, before looking at Jack. ”Should we open it up to take a gander?”

Nodding Jack stood and together with the two workers he manoeuvred the heavy crate out into the light, Laying it down they stood back as Jack input his authentication code. The crate whirred slightly, two metal plates rotating as the hard seal opened with a hiss of releasing pressure. As the lid opened Jack peered inside and gasped slightly at what he saw. There sat inside the crate, held in place by grey foam plastic, the torso segment of an Exosuit, but not the base model RX5 they were issued with at the Arc.

“That’s a RX5-Omega” he breathed, “I thought they never entered production!”

Rubin looked at him in bemusement, but David suddenly knelt down beside him, his face animated.

“I didn’t know the Exo’s had other versions, I thought the RX5 was the only one produced”

“It’s the only version that was entered mass production,“ Jack said with excitement as he carefully reached into the package to assess the chest piece by hand, ”but it wasn’t the only one. There were a range of prototypes and earlier models that didn’t meet the company’s needs, too fragile, not enough strength, failure to provide adequate protection etc.etc.. The RX5 was the model that managed to meet all target criteria.”

“Jack reached into one of the recesses in the foam and pulled out a cylindrical metal object that looked a bit like a vacuum flask. Its top had an injection valve surrounded by a complicated ring of interlocking metal gears, and whilst most of the case was gunmetal Grey, it featured a bio-hazard warning sign.

“The Omega variant was supposed to have been designed as the ultimate in advanced warfare ,allowing the wearer to operate for long periods of time behind enemy lines, or cut off from resources and logistical support”

David looked blank for a moment until Rubin spoke.

“Means they could fight for a long time without backup!” The big man looked slightly embarrassed as David stared at him in surprise “What? I like reading military fiction, so sue me!”

Jack shook his head in amusement, but continues his explanation.

“Basically, this chest piece is larger than the base model because it contains a small nanobot fabricator and an on-board medical unit.“ He reached into the case and pulled out the two cylindrical containers, each about 15 cm long and 8 wide. The cylinder was formed out of a clear plastic and each end had metal tops, with plugs and seals for attaching into the chest piece.

“These are reservoirs for the bots, one is for meds that the suit can administer to repair internal tissue damage, the other is for repair bots for the suit.”

He looked over the back plate for a moment before replaceing the right area, two rectangular raised sections in the armour with seals running along them, just below the plates covering the wearer’s shoulder blades. He used its smart-pad to trigger the seals and the segments folded outward to reveal cylindrical recesses in which he placed the reservoirs.

“Using these the suits AI can direct the bots to perform basic repairs in the field and also apply some first aid and treatment to the wearer using the armours medical supplies and nanos.” Jack shook he head as he looked at the massive suit. “Who ordered this and how the fuck did they get hold five of them?”

Rubin looked down at Jack and David in amusement. ”So do you to want me to give you and the suit some private time or what?”

David flipped him the V and was just about to speak when someone spoke.

“Excuse me,” a muffled female voice called from outside the container. “Could someone help me please? We’re having some problems with our cargo”

Rubin turned and walked outside but Jack stayed, too focused on the armour to turn. He vaguely heard the woman and Rubin talking, something about needing to store some equipment in a shielded container. Rubin called David over to help, leaving Jack to repack the case and send the conformation order to get the cargo delivered to the Exterminators workshop.

He was just about to stand when a new woman’s voice joined the discussion outside. High and slightly rough, she spoke in clear English with just a hint of a Martian drawl.

Jack froze in shock, his heart falling in his chest. It couldn’t be! Not here! Not in the furthest reach of the sector! He sprang to his feet and moved behind the crates, letting them block the view from outside. He closed his eyes and took a breath, before carefully leaning around the cargo to look outside.

Rubin and David were conversing with a group of people dressed in civilian gear accompanied by Professor Malcolm, one of the science division chiefs. Jack couldn’t hear what they were saying over the sound of blood rushing through his ears but even if he could all his attention was gathered on the two girls talking to Rubin, their slight forms looking tiny next to his bulk.

On the right stood a curvy redhead, a cap perched on her deep red hair that framed her pail freckled face. The second girl had skin the colour of creamy coffee, almond shaped eyes of startling green, dark hair cut short like a boy’s, and a thin yet curvy body that would make a model jealous.

Why were they here? Both should be off winning Nobel prizes or curing diseases in the major star systems, not sat on a far flung research station.

He had run to Ares to start over, to escape his past, but here they were, its personification, following him across the galaxy, April and Juliet, the women who’d pulled him from his isolation only to crush his heart.

He slid down the boxes and rested his head in his hands.

What was he going to do?