Atlantia Series 1: Survivor Read online

  SURVIVOR

  © 2014 Dean Crawford

  Published: 2nd April 2014

  ASIN:B00JEHH4XG

  Publisher: Fictum Ltd

  The right of Dean Crawford to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved.

  www.deancrawfordbooks.com

  Also by Dean Crawford:

  The Atlantia Series

  Survivor

  Retaliator

  The Ethan Warner Series

  Covenant, Immortal,

  Apocalypse, The Chimera Secret,

  The Eternity Project

  Independent novels

  Eden

  Holo Sapiens

  Revolution

  Soul Seekers

  Want to receive notification of new releases? Just sign up to Dean Crawford's newsletter via: http://eepurl.com/KoP8T

  Contents

  Title Page

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  VII

  VIII

  IX

  X

  XI

  XII

  XIII

  XIV

  XV

  XVI

  XVII

  XVIII

  XIX

  XX

  XXI

  XXII

  XXIII

  XXIV

  XXV

  XXVI

  XXVII

  XXVIII

  XXIX

  XXX

  XXXI

  XXXII

  XXXIII

  XXXIV

  XXXV

  XXXVI

  XXXVII

  XXXVIII

  XXXIX

  XL

  XLI

  XLII

  XLIII

  XLIV

  XLV

  XLVI

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  REVIEWS

  “As I looked, behold, a storm wind was coming from the north, a great cloud with fire flashing forth and a bright light around it, and in its midst glowing metal. Out of the middle thereof came four living creatures. And this was their appearance; they had the likeness of a man.”

  Ezekiel 1:5

  I

  The cold awoke her.

  For a moment she believed that she was already dead, for when she opened her eyes she saw nothing but blackness, as deep as the universe. A chill enveloped her naked body and she shuddered, her skin feeling oily and under pressure from all sides.

  She tried to move her head but could not, and swivelled her eyeballs down to seek some sense of where she was. She could hear her own breathing, muted as though she was underwater, and she realised that she was confined to a tiny space barely bigger than she herself was.

  Like a coffin.

  The cold bit deep into her bones, touched her skin as though ice was being pressed against it. She shivered and her heart began to race in her chest as panic rose like a dark wave inside her.

  She tried to scream.

  No sound came forth, choked back somewhere deep inside her throat, and her lips touched cold metal as she moved them. A slight pressure on her nose and on her forehead, cold and hard, and she realised that her head was encased in some kind of metallic mask. She blinked, and felt her eyes sting briefly before she realised that she was not only totally enclosed but also completely immersed in a fluid. A word flickered through her mind: per–fluorocarbon, used to preserve life and oxygenate for long periods of time.

  The panic rose up again and threatened to consume her, but then her eyes caught on something.

  Light.

  The faintest glow appeared just above her eye line as though it were the most precious thing in the universe. She fixed upon it, willed it with all of her heart to grow, and grow it did. The faint light swelled in intensity, broadening into a warm orange orb. She saw it illuminate geometric patterns and an intricate web of lines interconnecting with each other in a blurred miasma. It took her brain a few moments to realise what she was looking at.

  A screen, not much bigger than her face and encrusted with ice that had formed beautiful spirals and whorls. The light cast a brief but blessed warmth upon her face as it drifted past on the far side of the screen.

  She tried to move her arm to wipe the fogging from the screen, but she could not. She looked down and in the glow saw her naked body strapped inside the tiny capsule. Ice crystals blinked like distant stars as they caught the light, sparkling weakly through the amber fluid.

  Closer to her, a small panel attached to the interior and frosted with ice crystals cast a weak light of its own. Upon it was a single word.

  SURVIVAL

  The light burned bright and cast shadows through the fluid filling the capsule, but then it began to fade again. Her eyes snapped back to the screen and she almost cried as the light faded away until she was pitched into absolute blackness once more.

  She began tugging at her restraints, her limbs aching and feeling sluggish as they moved inside the dense and viscous fluid. Something tugged at the insides of her arms and she realised that tubes were inserted into her veins. Creeping dread clawed at her as she fought to release herself from her bonds in the darkness, her fingers and toes already numb and her limbs twitching and trembling.

  Breathe.

  She closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down, controlled her breathing until it settled, the fluid moving slowly in and out of her lungs. She opened her eyes again and curled her fingers back toward the insides of her wrists to feel the restraints there. The rough inside surface told her that they were not metal but merely an adhesive of some kind. She began working away at her right wrist, twisted it and levered it up and down as she tried to force the adhesive apart. The coarse material scoured her skin but she felt the restraint give a little.

  The light returned, swept across her field of vision to illuminate her tiny prison once more with a brief but wonderful warmth and brilliance. She worked harder as the light vanished again and heard a faint tearing sound as the adhesive began to give way. Moments later her right wrist slipped free of the restraint and she lifted her arm for what felt like the first time in a hundred years.

  The tube inserted into her vein pinched as she lifted her hand through the fluid surrounding her to the screen in the darkness. She touched it, cold and hard, the ice sticking her fingers to the surface. She pulled them back and then scratched at the ice, trying to rub it away as the light returned to drift across the screen. It rapidly grew in intensity and suddenly flared as bright as a thousand suns even through the per–fluorocarbon.

  Through the tiny screen she saw a star burning, flaring as it breached the vast curved surface of a planet in a brilliant halo.

  She realised that it was not the light of the star that was moving, but her own capsule as it tumbled end over end in the bitter emptiness of space. She saw the sun’s light flare past the screen, saw the surface of the planet through the thin sheen of ice coating the screen, blue oceans flecked with countless cloud formations glowing pink and orange in the light of a beautiful sunrise being cast somewhere far below, saw deserts and forests and lakes and then the plunging blackness again as she was spun over and plunged once more into shadow.

  She worked her left wrist free, shivering uncontrollably now and her liquefied breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The light spun once again into view and illuminated the depths of the capsule right down to her bare feet. She saw the panel with its single word, and she reached down and wiped the last ice crystals away from its surface to reveal the entire panel.

  SURVIVAL PROTOCOL:
ACTIVATE?

  With a muffled cry of desperation she pressed the surface of the panel, and the touch–screen blinked green as a tiny beep sounded out in the darkness. She heard a faint hum from somewhere on the capsule’s exterior, a vibration across her back as some kind of device activated, and then the capsule suddenly began to warm.

  She recalled that the liquid–ventilation system incorporated a membrane oxygenator, pumps and a heater to circulate the fluid. With the heater activated and the oxygen flow accelerated to provide sufficient metabolism for movement, she felt her limbs come alive.

  Tears formed in her eyes as she felt blessed warmth flood the tiny capsule, saw the light of the star drift past once more as she tumbled through space. The ice crystals melted away, some of them floating like tiny spheres of chromium on the surface of the screen as the fogging vanished and she could see more clearly.

  The planet revolved back into view once again, bright sunlight searing her eyes. She raised a hand up to shield her view and saw around her chunks of debris spinning in the blackness: cables, twisted metal, fragments of glass sparkling brightly as they caught the light of the star and then vanishing into absolute darkness as they tumbled away from her.

  All at once the debris field resolved itself in brief flashes as her capsule tumbled through it. Bigger chunks of machinery floated further away from her, some of them spewing crystalised gases out into the absolute cold of space, spinning end over end into the void. Below her she could see in the distance brief but bright flares and streaks of fire as debris entered the planet’s atmosphere and began to burn up as the planet’s gravity pulled them ever closer and ever faster to certain fiery doom.

  Fresh panic swept her as she turned to her control panel.

  There were few instruments. A small display revealed the amount of fuel on board, which was now being used to keep the interior warm, a small amount of oxygen which was keeping her alive, and a digital clock that was counting down:

  7.46

  There was no doubt then.

  She had just over seven minutes to live.

  She watched as the planet and its star revolved past her screen, taking in more detail each time. Clouds of metallic debris, and among that debris another slim black capsule nearby, its glossy surface flashing as it caught the light of the sun. A thought flickered through her consciousness along with conflicting emotions of relief and anxiety.

  I am not alone.

  Even as she considered this, she saw the capsule suddenly emit a burst of gas into the blackness that instantly turned to ice crystals in the frigid vacuum. The capsule righted itself, its endless tumbling arrested as a small blinking light began flashing on one end that she recognised as an anti–collision beacon.

  She looked down and in the fragments of illumination provided by the sunrise she saw two small handles embedded into the interior wall. She grabbed them and yanked them this way and that.

  A hissing sound filled the capsule and she felt its rotation change, twisting awkwardly sideways and slowing a little. Her brain rapidly orientated itself to the controls and she saw her oxygen supply diminish slightly faster as she fired controlled bursts, venting the precious gas out into space.

  She ceased rotating and sunlight filled her vision. She turned the capsule, rotating it enough to shield her from the star’s blinding flare, and scanned the debris field. There, amid the tangled wreckage, she saw numerous other glossy black capsules spinning and rotating in the silent void. As she watched, several of them began emitting bright flashing lights from their bases and firing jets of gas.

  She looked at the timer on her control panel: 6.27.

  The wreckage around her tumbled in a mass of colliding fragments and her capsule shuddered as a chunk of debris slammed into it. She fought for control, wasting more precious air as a twisted girder of metal floated past, flashing as it reflected the sunlight.

  6.09.

  Out of the screen she saw a flare of white light, a reflection of the nearby star’s light off something larger than a chunk of debris. Through the clouds of wreckage she saw something looming, cast half in shadow by the harsh starlight. Big. Intact. Sanctuary. Suddenly she recalled what the vessel was: a prison.

  On an impulse she fired her capsule toward it, just as several of the other capsules around her did the same, their puffs of crystalised gas sparkling behind them.

  ***

  II

  Her capsule began to move, drifting through the chaotic cloud of debris as she sought a course toward the vessel. She aimed for a gap between two large chunks of hull plating drifting left to right in front of her when something slammed into her capsule with a dull clang.

  She looked out to her right as she saw another survivor collide with her, and for a brief moment she saw a face staring out at her from within: twisted with malice, shouting something at her, pink mouth agape and eyes poisoned with fury.

  She spun down and away from the impact, rolling and tilting so that she could no longer see where she was going. She fired her controls and heard the gas hiss from exhaust vents, saw the planet revolve back into view just as her capsule slammed into the hull plating. The impact caught the top of her capsule, the edge of the hull plating smashing into her screen with a sharp crack that fractured it in jagged splinters.

  She tumbled end over end and she glimpsed the other capsule being hit even harder and blasted back the way it had come, spinning violently as the man inside fired wild blasts of gas to try to regain control again. She saw the blasts suddenly fade away, could make out the face of the man trapped inside screaming and beating his hands against his screen as his capsule, emptied of oxygen, tumbled away toward the void of space.

  Her screen made a tiny cracking sound and she saw the fractures begin to spread cracks from the point of impact. They splintered outward from the centre, the fluid pressure inside and the perfect vacuum of space outside conspiring to bring about her demise.

  She aimed once again for the vessel outside the debris field and fired another burst of gas. She began to move painfully slowly forward again but several of the other capsules were now far ahead of her, trailing sparkling crystals as they accelerated toward salvation.

  Her capsule rattled as tiny fragments of debris peppered its surface like rain drumming on a window, and she saw the angular fractures on her screen jerk outward to the sound of tiny cracks. The warmth inside the capsule was now an enemy to her, the contrast with the freezing vacuum of space liable to make her screen ever more brittle.

  She glanced at the timer: 5.12.

  Half a dozen capsules ahead of her were streaking toward the vessel as they broke free of the debris field that she could see was trailing from the vessel itself, the stern a mess of metal girders ripped and twisted as though by some kind of explosion, the hull plating torn open like a giant metallic flower.

  She gauged the distance to the hull and the position of the other capsules, and with a renewed sense of dread she realised that she could never catch up with them.

  From the large vessel something flashed. She saw a bright plume of blue flame and then a trail of vapour as something streaked toward the onrushing capsules, a ball of fearsome blue–white energy. Plasma charge. The object flew into the centre of them and detonated with a bright flash of light. She squinted, turned her face away as the explosion radiated outward and felt her capsule shudder as the shockwave slammed silently through the debris field.

  To her horror she saw several of the survivors ahead of her spinning out of control as they spewed gas from countless punctures, the metal capsules melted by debris from the blast. The capsules spun past outside of the debris field, their occupants either already dead or in the process of freezing to death as their blood boiled in their veins, their faces twisted with the rigor of agony.

  A capsule tumbled past, its screen shattered and a face staring out at her, white as a sheet and with globules of blood pulsing from its eyes, ears, nose and mouth in gruesome red fountains that froze instantaneously
in the vacuum.

  She eased past it as another plasma charge was launched from the vessel ahead. Capsules scattered to avoid it before it detonated. She remained inside the debris field, sheltered from the blast that thudded into her capsule as the shockwave sent chunks of metal spinning around her.

  Her screen cracked loudly and she saw fine, hair–like tendrils of per–fluorocarbon escaping out into the void.

  4.05.

  Debris smashed into her but she did not make any attempt to correct her orientation. She felt two more thumps reverberate through the tiny vehicle as detonations smashed through the leading capsules and sent their fatally wounded occupants spinning into oblivion.

  She turned slowly and she glimpsed the vessel ahead of her, looming large now. A bulky, ugly secondary hull with the damaged stern tethered to what looked like a frigate ahead of it. She let herself drift as though dead, surrounded by the shattered remains of other capsules destroyed by the weapons. Faces twisted in agony screamed silently as they died, or stared lifelessly through frozen eyeballs as they spun past, streams of per–fluorocarbon spiralling in frozen amber globules from them.

  3:28.

  She waited, feeling the warmth slipping away from the capsule as it began to run out of fuel. The survivor protocol was obviously a last–ditch attempt to preserve life, and such a small capsule could not provide a long reprise for its unfortunate occupant.

  Her capsule slipped out of the debris field and into plain sight, its beacon still flashing.

  She saw the bright flash of the plasma charge as it left the vessel and accelerated directly toward her. She grabbed her controls and fired herself directly toward the damaged rear section of the hull, toward the gaping flower of shredded metal, and she kept her finger on the trigger for several seconds as a blast of gas pushed her clear of the field.

  She accelerated away and then glanced at her timer.