Page 89 of Fallen from the Stars

The light over the door frame turned green, and the interior door slid open, smooth and quiet. Theo peered around Dracchus’s broad frame. The hallway beyond him looked pristine; the walls, floor, and ceiling, each a slightly different shade of gray, were free of blemishes and signs of aging.

The three bodies lying within the corridor were the only exceptions to the cleanliness — rather noticeable exceptions.

“Our ancestors made sure none of the humans from the Facility escaped to tell what had happened,” Vasil said.

“I can see that,” Theo replied. The powerful sensations that had been coursing through her only moments before were suddenly gone, leaving numbness in their wake.

Theo stepped around Dracchus and crouched beside the closest body. It lay on its belly, head turned at a sharp sideways angle, lower jaw unhinged in a huge, terrified scream. Only bones remained — bones in a stained and faded uniform with its back ripped to shreds. Black and brown stains marred the floor beneath the body, undoubtedly the result of the flesh rotting away over the long years.

Kane had shown her some of the holos — the mistreatment, the revolt, the brief-but-violent war on humans. The kraken had suffered, and this had been the retribution they delivered.

“Sometimes I wonder,” Larkin said as she stepped into the corridor, “if the locked rooms in the Facility have the same thing inside.”

“Bodies, yes, but most of their ends were not quite so sudden or violent,” Kane said. “There was communication between the survivors hiding inside those cabins for a few weeks after the kraken attacked, but eventually…lack of food took some. Suicide several more. Those rooms have been locked ever since.”

“Can you open them?”

“Why would you want them opened?” Kane asked.

Dracchus held his gaze on the skeletal remains, his expression brimming with undisguised disapproval. “To give the dead to the sea, as has always been the way.”

“We can do the same for these before we leave,” Larkin said.

Dracchus nodded.

Vasil moved to Theo’s side as she stood up.

“It was a different time,” he said softly. “A different world…and different people. But we can do what little is in our power to make amends.”

“I know.” Theo gently patted his chest, offering him a smile, before drawing in a deep breath and turning her attention toward the end of the corridor. “All right, Kane. Show me the way.”

“But of course,” Kane said. Her retinal implant flashed on, presenting the overlaid blueprints of the sub in her field of view — displaying every pipe, vent, wire, and part hidden within the walls, ceiling, and floor. A faint pathway appeared before her, marked by arrows which slowly marched in the direction she was meant to follow. She walked along the markers, occasionally glancing to the side to examine the tech readouts Kane provided for various components. The wet, dragging sound behind her told Theo that Vasil followed.

They turned off the relatively short entry corridor after about ten meters, entering another that ran toward the aft of the submarine. Numerous doors lined the corridor on either side, some of them standing open to reveal knocked over furniture, scattered objects, trash, and more bodies. Theo knew Kane could tell her how many people had been on board when the slaughter occurred, could tell her where all their remains were located, could show her surveillance holos of the entire incident, but she had no interest in learning more.

She didn’t need to see what had happened, didn’twantto see; the evidence spoke for itself.

Theo couldn’t imagine the fear the people aboard this vessel had felt in their final moments — trapped under so much water that they’d be crushed if they left the sub without specialized equipment, facing down human-octopus hybrids their own scientists had created. Human-octopus hybrids who were pissed off because of the way the IDC had treated them. And yet, she couldn’t find it in herself to regret what the IDC had done.

It was because of their actions that Vasil was here now. With her.

The path led ever deeper into the sub; they passed through the control room, where a body that must’ve belonged to the vessel’s former captain still sat in the command chair, though the skull had fallen away and now rested at the base of a nearby console.

After that room, things took on a surreal feel to Theo — just like the Facility, this place could easily have been mistaken for a space cruiser based on the appearance of its interior, but the immense sense of stillness here didn’t seem to belong in a living, breathing world.

After a couple more turns, they finally arrived at the maintenance access floor-hatch. Despite a groan of protest, it opened itself smoothly when she tugged the lever.

Vasil leaned forward to peer into the opening. “Seems tight.”

“They usually are,” Theo said. “The people who design these things cram as much into the maintenance tunnels as they can so most of the vital systems can be accessed through them. It’s just like in a space ship.”

The corners of his lips dipped as he lowered his torso to place the container on the floor near the opening. “I will go first. Pass me the container once I am down.”

“You don’t need to go.” Theo handed him her mask and removed her backpack, setting it on the floor. Turning her body, she grasped the handholds on the hatch lid and lowered her feet onto the uppermost ladder rungs. “Just hand me my tools when I get down and wait here. It shouldn’t take me too long to get the valve.”

Vasil’s brows fell low. “I will not leave you alone.”

She climbed down the ladder until she could comfortably grip the top rung. “Vasil, no one’s here but us. I’ll be fine.”

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