Bound – Chapter 2

Not many got to travel via the WCU. Not many wanted to. Since it’s ascension, over fifty years ago, there had been far too many deaths and disappearances to be trusted by the majority. Many local governments banned them completely. They were quite content with more inconvenient and time wasting routes with a spacecraft, or they simply didn’t planet travel at all.

 The WCU excited Kersten to use. She had only traveled through it a handful of times, but each time was a new experience. The WCU was essentially a Wormhole Containment Unit – a device that bent space in a way that made it easier to travel long distances in shorter times. There was no real left or right, up or down in space. No north and south, east or west, not in the same way measured on ground.  This took that concept and manipulated it into something controllable, using both Earth and alien technologies to make it functional enough to travel longer distances. Most of the time.

TechnoRuins’ possessed some of the only WCUs still in regular use. Given the magnitude of their work, it was only logical. Each base and excavation site had a unit built. Root units were static within each one of the seven TechnoRuin bases, while a temporary and far less safe version could be constructed onsite if needed. Root units consisted of a heavily armored launch tunnel and a navigator room, either manned with a WCU pilot called a Driver or auto piloted by E.L.O.S. – TechnoRuins’ conscious computer system.

Every WCU transportation was completely absent of light once the doors were pulled shut. A specially engineered suit was required for each traveler. It protected from possible debris, provided oxygen, vitals, and a communication link in case of emergency. The actual travel itself took but a few moments, but could feel like hours. The cold. It sunk into your bones, suffocated you, even as oxygen forced its way through an attached mouthpiece. It was comparable to crashing into arctic waters. When you hit the transportation stream, your bones felt brittle from cold, ready to shatter from the slightest touch, and a breath later you were surfacing, gasping for air and trembling from head to toe. Kersten was positive she’d never get use to it, but would never be immune to the adrenaline rush it gave her, either.

Kersten found herself on the floor of Desert HQ, the mother location for everything TechnoRuins, curled up and trembling on the ground. The eerie silence of the room made her ears ring, and she rubbed them into her shoulders as fingers and toes moved, trying to find feeling again. It was a soft blip and a green light blinking on her lens piece that finally broke the silence.

“Kersten Powell, Archaeological and Exploration Agent, identification number R438KQ,” chimed a mechanical female voice just as a small door slid open, bathing the small tunnel in a V shape of light. Groaning, Kersten pulled her knees and palms under her before she pushed herself to her feet, using the rounded wall beside her for support.

Any dizziness that she had been feeling began to wear off rather quickly, and she found she could step away from the wall without tumbling back to the ground. It made her laugh a little insanely feeling the blood rushing through her veins, her nerves tingling, her stomach in her throat.  She had just gotten off the most frightening carnival ride and wanted to get back on, but instead she started to disconnect the helmet of her suit, shaking her long chocolate hued hair loose.

“Kersten Powell, Archaeological and Exploration Agent, identification number R438KQ,” Kersten repeated, “reporting for mission duty.”

She started to head toward the open door, but paused when no message was returned, and repeated her identification again. When still there was no answer, she sighed in frustration and fished out the communication module tucked inside her helmet and pressed it firmly against her mouth.

“Kersten Powell, Archaeological and Exploration… oh come on. Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?” she said a little annoyed, attaching the mouthpiece back into the helmet.She didn’t have time for this nonsense. She had a partner to meet and a mission to receive. She was itching to be out in the field. She had been in training far too long, she was ready to get her hands dirty.

It was uncomfortably silent in HQ. She peeked her head into the navigator room, but it was empty. A couple hallways down, and she still hadn’t passed a single soul. Kersten was beginning to get worried as she rode the lift up a few floors to R&D. Like the level she had just left, this one seemed empty of life. Desks were empty, though computer monitors were alight with data sprawling across their screens. It made the hue of the room a soft blue, awash with all the lighted screens. It was a ghostly ambiance.

“Ah … hello?” she asked as she adjusted her lens over her eye, looking for any updates or news while Desert HQ would be empty. What was she missing, “E.L.O.S?” she asked, trying to summon the system for answers.

She sighed a breath of relief seeing a little red dot blinking in the corner of her lens, announcing E.L.O.S. presence. A simple message appeared in the corner of her screen. “Level 5: Operations”.

Turning around, she took the lift down two levels to Operations, waiting anxiously for the doors to open. Finally!

“You couldn’t have told me that first, E.L.O.S.?” she laughed, shaking her head slightly in disbelief. If a computer could be amused, she was sure he’d be grinning. As if to confirm, a video popped up on her screen, showing her confused and lost in a sea of computer screens.

“One day I’m going to program that sense of humor out of your system,” she grumbled as she walked off the lift. Empty, like the others, but this time she could hear voices. Progress.

“Move them over here,” came a gravelly male voice from somewhere down the hall, “Come on! Hurry up. We need this place cleaned up.”

Quickening her steps, Kersten rounded the corner and stopped dead in her tracks at what she saw. Bodies, whether unconscious or dead were slumped over their desks or sprawled out across the floor, while five men in red took them under the arms and slid them into a line. It was obvious they didn’t notice her as they worked under the direction of a man at least a head taller than her. He was broad in the shoulders, built for strength. It was obvious that he was part of the senior militarian unit by his uniform of black and lacing of red tattoos that wrapped around his biceps and down to the tips of his fingers.

She stood frozen, eyes wide as she watched the scene. Though she tried, she couldn’t make her mouth form words or pull a sound from her throat. She wasn’t sure whether to scream or demand answers. The small red light blinking in the corner of her screen distracted her enough to look away.

“Please report to room 315,” flashed across her screen a couple times, and she stared at it in befuddlement for a moment, “What?” she said out loud in response.

The sudden silence took her off guard, and when she looked up, all six men were turned and staring at her. Their expressions ranged from shock, fear, and annoyance, but it was the senior officer’s look that made her blood run cold, making her take an involuntary step backwards.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing in here? What authorization even let you through the door!” he spat, closing the few feet of distance between them in two strides.

Stunned, she stumbled backwards out of the room, holding her palms in front of her in defense, “I … I’m sorry, I was told to..” she started to explain herself, but he cut her off when he shoved her backward and sent her back slamming into the hall wall.

It knocked the breath out of her, and she gasped in shock. She wasn’t sure what was happening, what she had just seen. Surprise was quickly turning into fear, and she braced herself with arms over her face, afraid he would strike her next.

Instead he laughed at her. A deep rumbling sound in his chest, and then the others hesitantly joined in. When she lowered her arms from her face, the senior officer was standing there with arms over his chest and an amused smirk. She imagined that the others were looking at her the same way, but she couldn’t see much past the man standing in front of her.

“See men, this is why they don’t last. Why we have to pick their bodies from the field. Like crushed daisies in a field of red,” he said in amused disgust.

Her back stiffened at his insult, fingers curling against her palms, “Excuse me?” she said through clenched teeth.

“Oh, fire in this one,” he laughed loudly, looking over his shoulder at the other men.

Kersten absolutely bristled, standing up taller, “What is going on here?” she demanded, her voice steal though she quavered inside.

“None of your business,” he snarled down to her, all the amusement gone from his voice as he pinned her shoulder to the wall with the palm of his hand, “In fact, who the hell do you think you are demanding answers from anybody? Seems somebody needs to remember her place,” he sneered, his dark gaze traveling down her form. They stopped at her chest, then the shape of her hips in a way that made her sick to her stomach.

While she had experienced this kind of treatment from fellow trainees, never before had any sort of officer ever treated her with so little respect. It made her sick to her stomach. She wanted to spit in his face and teach them all a lesson, but even she knew that’d be a losing battle. Obviously she had caught them at a bad time. Something was going on that obviously shouldn’t be. Whether foul play or something else, she was clueless, but it was clear there wasn’t meant to be witnesses.

“Please report to room 315. Failure to do so will be considered refusal of assignment,” suddenly flashed across her screen, giving her pause. “What? You have to be kidding me,” she grumbled, forgetting about the danger she was in for a moment.

“Kidding? She thinks I’m kidding, men,” the man before her laughed again, letting go of her shoulder to turn away for a moment, “Finish with the mess in there, then we’re moving to the next floor. Rodwell, make sure every body is accounted for, Smith, find something to wrap these ones in,” he shouted out his orders, “I’ll take care of this one.”

Kersten didn’t like the way he said that, at all. Shuddering, she glanced down the hall where she thought room 315 was. Was there anyone in there that wasn’t in the state of the bodies she saw in the other room?

“Now, where were we? Oh yes,” the officer said, turning back to her, “Time to tie up some loose ends. You shouldn’t be here, woman. How about we have a little fun before we do something about this?” he growled.

She didn’t want to find out what either of those entailed. When a red arrow started to blink on her screen, she did what she was trained to do in this situation. She punched him in the throat. It was obvious he wasn’t expecting it. Nothing in her body language had suggested she would fight back. The moment her knuckles met his windpipe, he staggered back and clutched at his throat, rasping out a curse.  If he said or did anything else, she didn’t stay around to find out. Springing away from the man, she rushed the direction the arrow pointed. It didn’t take too long till the echo of heavy boots rushing after her echoed behind her.

Kersten pushed herself as hard as she could to follow E.L.O.S. directions.  She might not be build like a spaceship, but she had the speed of one, unlike the grunts chasing after her. She would have laughed if it wasn’t for the fear that still made her heart beat like a rabbit in her chest. Room 315 was like a beacon of hope and safety for her, and she would have run past it if E.L.O.S. hadn’t signaled for her to stop.

The moment the door slid open, she was through it and smashing at the control on the other side to close. It didn’t seem to close quick enough, and she panted for breath as she slammed the control a couple more times, “Come on!” she screamed at it until it suctioned close, “Lock, lock!” she commanded it, pressing a few more controls until she heard the distinctive click. Only then did she press her back against the door and slowly slid down till she was sitting on the ground with her knees up and her head leaning back.

Putting her head in her hands, she took in a deep stuttered breath as everything that just happened settled in her. Her eyes burned, and she felt angry. This wasn’t how it was suppose to be at all. She had finished training, she was suppose to be respected now. She had proved herself time and time again, and yet here she was. Partnerless, missionless.

“Where is everybody!” she screamed, slamming the side of her hand in the door behind her.

“It’s complicated,” came a gentle voice, “And I see that you met Lieutenant Simmons? He’s harmless, I assure you,” he laughed softly.

Letting out a surprised scream, Kersten jumped to her feet, ready to punch anyone else in the throat she needed to, when she noticed a man sitting on the other side of the room. He was dressed in gray slacks and a matching long-sleeved shirt with a head full of curly black hair that hung slightly over his ears. Across the table from him sat a holographic figure of E.L.O.S. that looked strikingly similar.

“Who are you?” Kersten asked, dumbfounded.

“Whoever I’m needed to be,” he smiled at her, dimples showing in his cheeks as he did, “But you may call me Leander. Now that I have your attention, are you ready to hear our mission? Please, join us. You may want to be sitting down for this”

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