Transmissions From Escape Pod X

I have begun to hear strange noises within the ship.  They do not seem to indicate a further malfunction, nor do they appear to be emanating from any one location.  They are cold, mathematical, and rhythmic.  There is a definite pattern to them, although I have not yet come to understand its significance.  They come and go without warning and cut through whatever audio I may have playing at the time.

This development is disturbing.  There are only two possibilities. The first is that the noise is indicative of strange and unnatural events at work.  The second… the second is that I am already losing my hold on reality.  I pray for the former.

Nevertheless, it is now imperative that I establish contact with Earth as soon as possible.  I received yet another garbled transmission yesterday, this one from an unidentified source.  Encouraged, I have redoubled my efforts, and believe I will be able to make a full-scale long-form audio transmission shortly.  I can only hope that someone – anyone – is listening.

I have come to the conclusion that Escape Pod X is no longer merely drifting through space.  On multiple occasions my navigation system, which I only recently finished repairing, has momentarily shorted out.  When it became operational again, the coordinates displayed indicated a massive shift in my location.  After exhaustive tests, I determined that there is no malfunction in the system itself.  I am in fact appearing, seemingly at random, at different locations in space.  There are three possibilities.  The first is that the same beings that destroyed the Horizon are manipulating me.  The second is that I have fallen victim to some natural phenomenon of which Earth is yet unaware. The last is that a third party is becoming actively involved in this affair.  No possibility is better than another.

Regardless, I have little choice but to continue my work.  My only hope is that by establishing communications with someone – anyone – I may begin to unravel this mystery.  There is no other option.  I must press on.

I will attempt another transmission soon.  If you are being reached, please respond on this frequency.

It was only through the brilliant efforts of her crew that the Horizon was successfully landed on that strange planet.  I ordered a full systems check and had Solomon prepare his men for action.

A Captain sets the tone for his crew.  They take their lead from him, and it is his responsibility to understand that.  In every situation I have tried to maintain my composure and give my men and women a reason to believe in me.  That sometimes means lying to myself about my real motivations, my real fears.  But even if I manage to fool myself, I can never fool my wife. All it took was one look at Rana to know that she understood.  Despite my brave front, I didn’t know what we were facing, and I was afraid.  And in that moment, I understood why Dr. Pym had been thinking of Venus.

With few options, we tested the atmosphere and then prepared a landing party.  When we set foot on the planet’s surface, none of us knew what to expect. Then we saw in the distance the most unusual sight.  From over the hills came a platoon, marching in perfect time, heavily armed, heavily armored – or so it appeared.  As they approached, we saw there were no seams in their armor, no signs of organic life of any kind.  And the way their joints bent, the weight with which their steps fell, eliminated any possibility that these were simple men.  And, with no alternative, we came to the logical conclusion: it was an army of robots.

Pym made his way to my side.  I felt him tense, heard him whisper, “This is getting too familiar.”

A smallish robot emerged from the troop and proceeded to introduce himself as Moggio.  He (and I realize now with some disgust how easily I apply the word “he” to that machine) explained our predicament.  As Liaison of his planet, he wanted to enter negotiations with me for the surrender of Earth to machine rule.  He wanted us to bargain away our planet in exchange for our lives.

Solomon lashed out at him.  He charged for the robot, but then his own mechanical hand twisted on his wrist, sprung towards his throat, and began to throttle him.  The rest of us could only watch in horror as this good and honorable man was strangled to death by his own appendage, which had fallen under the control of these heinous machines.  And then Moggio declared in his cold hollow voice, “A creature of flesh and steel.  You control the flesh, but we control the steel… and steel is always stronger.”

We were separated then.  Most of the crew was sent to holding cells, but Dr. Pym was sent off alone to something called “Aurora.”  As for me, I was taken away to negotiate in private.  I tried to resist, tried to keep them from taking me… tried to stay with my wife.  Oh, Rana!  Even then I knew that being apart from you would be agony.  Now, trapped in Escape Pod X, the pain that we felt on that Robot Planet is my constant companion.  Are you alive?  Are you out there?  Is there anybody out there?

I apologize for the digression, but the pain of isolation can often be overwhelming.  I’ll continue my story as best I can.

Rana, Rothman and Nadine were placed in the same cell, so as to be ready to replace me in case I proved a difficult negotiator.  There were no locks, no chains – just one robot guard that could have killed them all in an instant.  Nevertheless, the three of them began planning their escape almost immediately and, after a number of hours, hit upon an ingenious solution.  Knowing that robots are programmed in binary, and are therefore incapable of thinking in threes (or trinary), Rothman convinced their robot guard Ker to answer a question in the negative.  Three times he ask if Ker was a robot.  On the third question, Ker had no choice but to respond “Yes.”  Rothman took this wedge and drove it into the robot’s processors.  Eventually, the paradox was too much, and Ker ceased to function.

Seizing the robots weapons, the three of them proceeded to free the remainder of the crew and send them back to the ship to continue repairs.  At the same time, I was doing my best to stall negotiations with Moggio.  I knew that once we began discussing Earth’s fate, there were only two possible outcomes for me: I surrender immediately and live, or I argue and die.  There would be no compromise.

I asked him about his world’s origins, and how a race of machines could have emerged as its rulers.  He explained how centuries ago, the inhabitants of Skyron were faced with extinction.  With few alternatives, they submitted to the will of one of their own. “The Maker,” as he was called, purged their emotions and hardened their flesh.  Eventually the Maker abandoned the biological component altogether, devoting his attention exclusively to machines.  Ultimately, only the robots were left to serve his will.

I was interested.  I told Moggio that I would like to meet the Maker, but he quickly denied my request.  “The Maker sees no one,” he said.  When I argued that he could be of help to our negotiations, Moggio almost laughed.  “The Maker had no direct involvement in our previous negotiation.  I am fully equipped to handle this business.”

Previous negotiation?  I pressed, asking about this “previous negotiation.”  Moggio explained that his world had recently confronted another planet.  When the robots tried to bring the populace under their control, they were met with resistance.  Without a thought they annihilated that planet, scorched the surface, wiped it clean of all life, leaving only a burnt-out husk behind.

I asked which planet they had scorched, but I didn’t need to.  I already knew its name: Venus.

The machines had destroyed Venus.

It was the hardest thing I have ever done, keeping my composure in those few moments.  It would have been easy to lash out, to lose myself in my emotions, but doing so would have resulted only in my death.  I swallowed hard and kept my eyes focused on the monster in front of me.  I began to formulate a plan for action, but as luck would have it, the door to the chamber burst open then and Rana, Rothman, Nadine, and Pym were there, guns in hand.  Moggio never had a chance.

Reunited with my companions, I was ready to make our next move, but there was a complication: Pym had not made his escape alone.  He had brought with him a gynoid called Aurora.  I never had the chance to get the full story out of Pym, but Rana would later tell me that the Doctor had been placed in a special cell with the robot and convinced her to help him escape by appealing to a flaw in her positronic brain – a flaw that allowed her to feel emotions.  I would have argued, but at that point, I had other priorities – chief among them, finding and killing this “Maker” once and for all.  If he possessed such power as to destroy the world of Venus, then Earth would have no chance against him.  He had to be eliminated.

By integrating with Moggio’s memory banks, Aurora was able to uncover the Maker’s location, and together, the six of us made our way to his chamber.  The interior had a unique decor – it was Venusian.  And when we found the Maker himself, everything made sense.

His body was leaned back in his desk chair.  His once-blue skin had turned brown from decay.  His clothes had even begun to dissolve.  He was dead.  He had been for decades.  And the machines that he had created were carrying on his mission – the only mission they’d ever known.

A nearby holographic device showed him as he once was – a Venusian man.  His voice was shockingly pleasant and composed.  He explained how after his people’s expulsion from Venus by Queen Maia, they had fled to the stars and found Skyron.  Though they had escaped with their lives, their hopes were dead.  He said that it wasn’t enough for his people to live – they had to have something to live for.   With no other option, he began to convert his brothers into cyborgs, as well as make pure machines to do his bidding.  With his forces massing, he resolved to take back Venus by force.  He would, he said, conduct a war to end all wars, and light a lamp to guide the way through the darkness of the universe.

He was a madman.  But there was something in his eyes that made me feel sorry for him.

The Maker was dead, but his legacy lived on, and would continue to scour the universe unless stopped.  Aurora informed us that the planet’s core was a massive reactor designed to power its propulsion system.  If overloaded, the entire world would be destroyed.  For reasons I may never understand, she volunteered to initiate the overload from a local terminal once the rest of us had escaped.  Sadly, she never got a chance to enact her plan, because it was just then that a monstrous machine burst through the door.  Before we could react, it locked its sights on her and blew her to pieces.

The attacker was easily destroyed, but the damage had been done.  Aurora was barely operational.  Worse, she was now incapable of performing her task.  She would need a pair of hands, someone to operate the machinery… and Pym volunteered without hesitation.

Pym.  I will never know what happened between the two of them during their time in that cell, but the look that I saw in Pym’s eyes when he reached down to pick up Aurora’s head… it looked like love.  I wasn’t about to question it.  He had made his decision and I knew it was final.  Just as we had said goodbye to Captain Fleming on Venus, now Rana and I had to say goodbye to Dr. Pym.

I turned away, unable to look at him.  He was my oldest friend, my mentor, and my most trusted companion.  But I couldn’t look at him.  I still had a duty to perform.  I was still Captain, and Captains don’t cry.

We returned to the ship to find that Forrest and her crew had done their job well.  We were able to break atmosphere with no issue.  And once were a safe distance away, Pym did what he needed to do.  Skyron shuddered, and then it was gone, leaving only debris in its wake.

As we began our journey back to Earth, I made a decision.  During my missions into space, I had seen some of the greatest men I’ve ever known killed.  I had watched as friends sacrificed themselves so that I could live another day. I had seen men die for me.  I could bear it no more.  And so I announced on the bridge that immediately upon returning to Earth, I would resign from my post, and recommend Commander Rothman for immediate promotion.  Rothman.  There truth was that despite my disdain for him, there was no better man to command that ship.  His destiny lie in space.  As for me, well, I was ready to leave space behind.  I would find a new life with Rana by my side.  I would choose another path.

Ultimately, it didn’t work out. But that’s another story.

Now, back in space, alone, I think again of that madman’s words: “It’s not enough to live.  One must have something to live for.”  What do I have?  What drives me?  What sustains me?  Only the hope that one day I might see my wife again.  Only the hope that someday I might find my way back home.