Page 65 of Star-Born Anomaly
A wide bed fitted with black sheeting took up the central section. One more door was behind that, then wall compartments encircled the room. Iax stopped in front of the first section and touched the panel. The door slid open to reveal hanging garments in different shades. He stepped to the next one and opened it. This one had more of the same, but with different designs.
Iax tilted his head, recognizing some uniforms from his preparations before traveling to this planet.
The next section held flight-suits similar to the one the man had worn, and other suits in the same style as Wynn’s outerwear. Iax now understood the benefit of wearing such a suit in this climate.
He left everything as he had found it and touched the control for the slender door at the rear of the room. It slid open, revealing a washroom and toilet, similar to the ones in Wynn’s home.
An emotion surged through his chest, one he could not name, but hazed his vision with red. Knox had destroyed her home, everything she cared about, and the things that had brought her joy. She had felt so fondly and strongly about her place of work, and it had connected her to her deceased colleague as well.
Knox had leveled it like it meant nothing.
A new need rose in Iax, the urge to end Knox’s existence because of what he had done, but repairing the ship would take time. Iax clenched his fists and stepped inside the small space, allowing the red clouding his vision to ebb into determination. He stripped. The washroom houseddecontamination buffers and would cleanse him of radiation and other contaminants.
Once finished, he stepped out of the small room and paused in front of the compartment filled with protection suits. He grabbed a black one identical to what Knox had worn. He slid it up the newly healed skin of his legs and chest, then over his shoulders. By the time he secured the flight-suit at his throat, and engaged the helmet, his body was almost fully healed. He finished by securing new boots to his feet, the size slightly snug.
Exiting the sleeping quarters, he strode toward the front of the ship and pressed his hands against the main terminal. He infused more of his essence into the ship to help with repairs. The cruiser was not space-worthy yet. It would not be a good idea to attempt leaving the atmosphere, only to implode before reaching the cold of space.
The urgency within him grew. He needed to get to Wynn.
Iax settled in the pilot’s seat and initiated flight controls. The ship might not be space-worthy, but it could fly. The engine activated, and the ship hovered a moment later. He adjusted his eyes and found a fading heat trail for the last animal, the imprints of its paws quickly disappearing in the cold.
Snow assaulted the outside of the ship, obscuring the viewer’s readout. Most of the terrain was flat, but a visual scan revealed a mountain range in the distance.
He kept the ship low to the ground, avoiding the worst of the wind. Kilometers sped by, then the trail stopped abruptly at a rock face, almost as though it went inside.
Iax circled once to make sure the heat signature did not resume at an alternate location, then lowered the ship near where the trail ended. He powered down the engine, but left a portion of his essence to continue repairs.
With the touch of a button, he engaged the flight-suit’s helmet, then stood to access the door. As soon as it opened, wind and snow knockedagainst him. He pushed against it to jump onto the frozen soil, then sealed the door with a thought.
He walked toward where the animal’s heat signature abruptly ended. Confusion set in until Iax refocused his eyes, probing deeper. A void existed beneath him, the construction long and deep. It looked to have been there for some time.
Shifting his weight, he crouched, took off a glove, and placed his bare hand against the ice and snow. Essence exited through his fingertips to infuse the ground. It surged downward, searching for weaknesses in the design or technology he could exploit. He found it amongst wires and metal, traveled even farther into the construction, and accessed a terminal running on emergency power.
The ground shifted, then a dullbangresounded, vibrating against his boots. The circular platform beneath him lowered into the structure. Donning his glove, he stood and surveyed this new world through the cylindrical tube surrounding him.
It was a utilitarian room, full of compartments. Another circular platform sat a few meters away, like the one he stood upon. Above him, an identical piece of earth slid into place, sealing the room from the elements.
The platform stopped, and a decontamination process started. Since part of his essence was already within the system, Iax stopped it with a thought, and opened the cylinder to step off the platform. Silence greeted him.
He extended his mind outward, searching for life, but came up empty. He was alone.
He advanced toward the central door and opened it with a command of his mind. The technology in this place was flawed, low on power, and every mechanism needed encouragement from his essence to complete its given function.
A long corridor extended in two directions. He glanced left, then strode to the right, following a lingering heat signature. He passed by many lab spaces equipped for different tasks.
His feet slowed when one door remained ajar, something blocking it. He analyzed the scene and realized it was a hand—a detached hand. He stopped in front of the door and looked inside. It was another lab, this one filled with equipment covered in dried blood. Streaks of it coated the floor.
Leaving the severed hand behind, he kept walking until he reached the last lab at the end of the corridor. He opened the door with his mind and stepped inside.
This lab was bigger and contained dismembered body parts—most unrecognizable. He stepped over a piece of a leg, then a piece of… something else, and stopped in front of the main terminal. Leaning forward, he took off his gloves and pressed his palms flat against its surface.
The panel brightened as he infused his essence inside, a smaller amount than if he had not been repairing Knox’s ship. He accessed key systems, memory banks, and project details. Files upon files opened up to his mind, a chronological map of all the research and experiments the people in this hidden bunker studied and analyzed, everything centering on creating viable life on this planet—an unsanctioned counterpart to Wynn’s purpose here.
One word kept repeating within the data: Strata.
A distant memory tickled the back of his mind. It originated with a person who had traveled to Sector Ten and coalesced with his kind. But the idea did not fully form, and Iax could not access others’ knowledge to confirm the memory. But The Four would be very interested to learn what was happening here.
These people were taking creation into their own hands in a much more drastic way than Wynn’s work.
