Emergence, page 1
EMERGENCE
DAVID W. ADAMS
CONTENTS
Content Warning
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Epilogue
About the Author
ISBN:
978-1-916582-63-7 [Paperback]
978-1-916582-64-4 [eBook]
978-1-916582-65-1 [Hardcover]
Copyright © 2024 David W Adams.
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously or in reference. Any resemblance to persons living, dead or undead, or locales are purely coincidental.
No parts of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in book reviews.
CONTENT WARNING
The following story contains some dark themes and violent scenarios, due to its nature. Some imagery may prove to be disturbing and so please read the list of potential triggers below.
Graphic descriptions of injury
Graphic depictions of dead bodies
Descriptions of mutilation
Body horror
Isolation
Medical Abuse
You may also find the following:
Literary jump scares
Star Trek references
Fallout references
‘Holy Shit’ moments
Plot twists straight from left field.
Unreserved hatred for at least one character
Distinct lack of spicy scenes
Flashbacks
Mentions of events from previous books (I would suggest going back, buying the other books, and reading them to avoid this issue.)
Cringy one liners
A mad scientist
Accidental references to a completely different book series
An indication of the next book but no specific release date, at the back of this book.
At least one kick-ass female character
A distinct lack of any form of prejudice against minorities
A diverse cast of characters in every way
A clear lack of fucks for anyone who thinks the book should have anything otherwise.
A two page content warning.
For Christian Francis & SA Barnes,
Thank you for your brilliant books ‘Titan Find’ and ‘Dead Silence’ which inspired me to start the whole Frozen Planet story.
PROLOGUE
The music echoed down the corridors, reverberating each note from one wall to another, stretching into the endless void of the facility. The acoustics here were simply astonishing. The tune, however, was almost displaced in time. And given the neglected and abandoned state this place was in, had there been anyone alive in these hallways, their bodies would have shivered with the eeriness. The ancient flowing rhythm of the Inkspots’ singing ‘I Don’t Want To Set The World On Fire’ echoed through the hallways.
A light tapping noise came from a small room at the end of one of these long bunker-style avenues, the gradual tap, tap, tap of a hammer on metal, followed by the unmistakeable sound of bolts being screwed into place.
The door to the room was at least ten inches thick and made of some kind of reinforced steel. There were faint markings on the metal surface, perhaps the symbol of a long dead organisation, but they were illegible. Whatever use this place once had, was long since irrelevant. Its use now was much more… barbaric.
“Computer, next track please.”
A deep male voice interrupted the flow of the music, and a short beep of acknowledgement followed.
“Now playing Blue Skies.”
“Ah yes, much better.”
The man began to hum along to the tune, as he crossed the room to fetch leather straps from a nearby drawer. He pulled them tight between his hands, before nodding to himself, and carrying them back over towards the table. All the time he was whistling to Isa Briones swooning through the speakers.
After several adjustments, the straps were fastened to the central object in the room, which mirrored a small private medical ward, and the man declared the examination table was ready.
“Computer, is our guest ready for transfer?”
A moment of whirring mechanical noises through an ancient speaker above, before the reply.
“Yes Doctor Blakeman.”
“Excellent. Please proceed.”
At the far end of the room, in what appeared upon first glance to be solid wall, a crease began to form in the centre, before the walls span on their hidden axis and it was revealed to be a pair of huge doors. Seconds later, an automated hospital gurney rolled into view, glowing green wheels seemingly out of place in the desolate and eroding surroundings. On top of the gurney, was a figure, covered by a grey sheet. The wheels turned and parked the trolley alongside the bed which now contained straps and restraints.
“Computer, please transfer the patient to the examination bed.”
“Yes Doctor Blakeman.”
The gurney suddenly morphed into a kind of four legged metal beast, two long mechanical arms unfolding from the sides of the trolley. They lifted the body off the top of the gurney, and the wheels turned into two short legs, which elevated the figure up high enough to be laid down in the bed. Once its work was done, the arms and legs folded away, and the gurney rolled back through the double doors, closing behind it.
“Excellent. Now let’s see how you’re doing, Admiral.”
Doctor Blakeman pressed a small button at the side of the bed and removed the sheet exposing the completely naked and rather pale body of Admiral Harry Ransome. Blakeman rolled the sheet up and wandered off through a plastic curtain near the doorway which concealed a storage cupboard.
It was a harsh breeze, whistling down from the corridors, which jolted Harry awake. It was like icicles tearing into his skin. As his eyes flew open, he realised that not only was he freezing cold, but he was also very much naked. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room, he discovered he was lying on the pre-prepared examination table and saw there was a trolley full of instruments off to his left. A distant drip, drip, drip from a pipe somewhere, sent a dull echo around the room. He didn’t even notice the music, his head swamped in confusion and disorientation.
“Where the fuck…”
“Ah, you are awake! Excellent. That means we have made progress!”
A rather excited Doctor Blakeman, now in a long white lab coat and sporting a pair of goggles, burst back through the plastic curtain at the far end of the room, and it was only when Harry moved to stand up, he realised he was being held down on the table by restraints around his chest, both arms and his legs.
“Just what the hell is going on here?!” Harry shouted, his throat raw, his voice jagged.
Blakeman removed his goggles and rolled a chair to the edge of the table, sitting in it and leaning in towards Harry’s face.
“Well, would you like the short answer, or the long answer?”
Harry had never wanted to punch someone in the face so hard in his entire life. A mood Blakeman appeared to pick up on.
“Allow me to give you the short answer, then.”
The doctor got up from his chair, and began pacing the room, tapping a pen on his wrist as he walked from one side of the room to the other, methodically.
“My name is Doctor Tim Blakeman. I was placed here entirely by accident, oh about… ninety years ago. Give or take.”
Ninety years? Harry was astonished. The man did not look a day over forty, and he was almost certainly human. The confusion clouded his mind, and he had to focus to hear the rest of the words.
“You see, long before your time Admiral, a small group of us were working on a significantly advanced form of artificial life. Far beyond that of artificial intelligence, you understand. Something much more intricate and unique. Of course, those on Earth with morals and objections caused our research to be shut down before we even started. But someone came to me and offered me a chance to continue my work. I believe she is a mutual friend of yours.”
Drusilla. Fucking bitch, Harry thought.
“Anyway, she got a little - shall we say - trigger happy with my associates, and so I - and there’s no easy way to say this - stole her ship and ran away.”
Harry almost laughed at that one. The idea of anyone successfully stealing a ship from Drusilla filled him with joy.
“I managed to barter and trade my way to the Saraswathi System, and I discovered a wonderful spatial phenomenon. I did not have the means to fully explore it, but it appeared to be some kin
Harry did not like where this was going. As feared, this was definitely a laboratory, and not a medical facility. Pushing away the doctor’s apparent confirmation of the Horizon’s existence, he had to know the answer to the question at the forefront of his weary mind.
“How long have I been here?”
Looking slightly offended at being interrupted, Blakeman sighed and gave the response.
“You fell from the sky roughly five years ago. And there wasn’t much of you left after the impact, I can tell you that much!”
Five years. How could that be? And then a dormant thought came rushing to the fore like a flood in his mind.
“The gravitational field? It was this planet?” Harry asked, already certain the answer would be in the affirmative. The Odyssey had picked up the phenomenon but had been placed in such danger by it, that he’d had to sacrifice himself to save them.
Blakeman was animated once more.
“Ah yes! Another one of my genius inventions. You see, I was fortunate to have basically a whole laboratory onboard the ship I stole, and when I landed here, this facility was abandoned, and so I’ve been tinkering away perfecting my craft for quite some time now. You are one shining example of that. The perception filter is another.”
“Perception filter? You mean like a cloaking device?”
“Yes! Precisely!”
But now was time to focus on the other part of Blakeman’s statement.
“I am an example of your work?”
Blakeman nodded enthusiastically, before asking the computer to replay the previous track. Harry didn’t notice.
“Oh yes, my friend. The artificial lifeforms I have spent almost a century working on undoubtedly saved your life. You’ve basically been reconstructed from the DNA upwards. I am so very proud of my little autonomous children.”
Even though it wasn’t possible to get any colder than he was, Harry shivered. The demeanour, the words, the actions of this so called doctor, chilled Harry to the core. He couldn’t speak, the words caught like a lump in the throat. But he needn’t bother. Because Blakeman spoke first.
“Alas, although you are awake, the task is not yet completed. There is more work to be done. I think… yes… spinal fusion should be our next task. Don’t you think so my little beauties?”
Blakeman turned towards a large cabinet. Inside were several vials of various coloured liquids and equipment. But the specimen jar in the centre, larger than all the others, contained some kind of swirling mass. A soft green glow came from whatever the creature was, and as Harry watched on, Blakeman reached into the cabinet and extracted the jar. He carried it over to Harry’s restrained form and unscrewed the lid.
“Oh yes, soon we will have you better than new, Admiral.”
He grabbed Harry’s jaw, and squeezed his mouth open, and gently tilted the jar forwards. In one smooth motion, the creature inside the jar plunged down Harry’s throat, his body convulsing violently. As Blakeman screwed on the jar’s lid and walked away, Harry Ransome’s screams echoed throughout the facility, and across the entire frozen world. All the while, the music continued to play. Blakeman smiled as he listened to the lyrics.
“Nothing but blue skies indeed.”
ONE
155 YEARS LATER
She was cold. So very cold. Her mind refused to process anything other than the tiny icicles stabbing their way throughout her lungs. And then her hand twitched, and she felt something soft and powdery beneath her fingertips. Exploring this substance, she did everything she could to squeeze her fingers together, and the powder became compressed, more solid and moist at the same time.
Samantha jolted awake and sat bolt upright, her hands now clawing at the snow around her. The sheer brightness from every conceivable angle caused her vision to blur, and her head was swaying with confusion. In an attempt to steady her mind, she tried to focus her sight on the plumes of mist coming from her breath, visible in the arctic temperature. Once her head felt a little more stable, she slowly began to look around her. She was inside the Odyssey, of that there could be no question. Mangled and shredded metal surrounded her on all sides, and directly above was an enormous hole to the outside, through which the snow was falling. She tried to think back to before and recall any details of what had happened. They came in short bursts, but they did come back to her. She remembered being on the outside of the ship, and making her way along the edge of the hull towards Roman…
Roman! Where was he? Was he alright? Her mind suddenly became consumed by concern for her Captain’s wellbeing, and although the concern was not entirely professional, she pushed that to the side for the time being.
“Okay Sam, think. What happened next?” she said aloud, the words wobbling from her mouth as she shivered from the cold.
She pieced together images of a burst of light coming up from the planet below. The planet! They had found a planet! It hadn’t been there before, but it was there as clear as day. The burst of light hit the ship, and then she remembered losing sight of Roman, and falling. Then nothing.
Samantha looked around again, and tried to figure out exactly where in the ship she was. It was hard to do, with all the debris, and clearly the ship would never fly again. Its legacy and indeed its life, were at an end. Her eyes came to rest on the scraps of a large cargo bay door, and she determined she was in the main bay. The room in which three of her friends were killed. First Alexandria. Then Dante, and by collateral damage, Aliah. All in this room. The very same one the remaining crew had exited to traverse beyond the Odyssey. There had been three of them. Samantha. Roman. And Drusilla. As cold as she was, her blood boiled at the thought of Drusilla being anywhere near Roman right now. The ship had gone down before they had gotten to the bottom of her secrets, and other than the fact they knew she was hiding important information, it was now likely that Samantha at least, would never get her answers.
“Computer?” she asked hopefully. No reply. “Figures.”
To keep herself conscious (and as grounded as possible), Samantha decided to talk to herself and reassure her own mind of what she was going to do next.
“Okay, so main cargo bay. That’s good. Lot of debris, but we can handle that. Wherever we are, we’re on the ground, likely on that planet. So that means if we’re in the cargo bay, there are lockers. Gear. Weapons. And hopefully a fucking jacket or two.”
Pushing off the ground with her hands, Samantha attempted to launch herself upwards, but as she put weight on her left leg, it crumpled beneath her, and she dropped to the ground once more, this time on her knees. The scream echoed all around the wreckage of the USS Odyssey.
“Mother fucker!” she cried out, her hands instantly reaching for her leg.
The view was not good. Samantha had not survived the crash intact. Her left ankle was broken, bone protruding from the break point, and blood darkening the snow beneath it. There was also the matter of her foot being staked into the ground by a sizeable wedge of metal, which had driven right through the centre of her foot and straight to the other side.
“Sonofabitch… okay… I can do this…”
Her eyes spotted an emergency med-pack still concealed behind a pane of toughened emergency glass. The supplies within it would heal her foot and repair the broken bones. Something they could have done with when being massacred by those… things. However, in order to get to it, there was something she would have to do.
