Speaker 1: Hullo. I'm welcomed stories all the time. Glad you are here.
Let's get into it. I was recruited for the project
in August twenty eighteen. I had just completed my twentieth
year in the military, fifteen in special Forces, and for
the first time was considering leaving. I had lost friends
along the way, and the loss of my family had
just passed. It felt like it was time. I never
had house feeling, and I think people understood arde. On
August twelfth, twenty eighteen, I received a message from my
group commander telling me to be ready for private video
call at the teen hundred hours. No further info. This
in itself was unusual, and the identity of the column
made it more so. Not every day you hear from
a retired rear admiral and form a head of n
s w C. It was a short conversation. Thus of
my recollection it went as follows. I've changed all the
names below for obvious reasons. Admiral, Sir Matthew been a
long time. Condolence is on your recent loss. How are
you holding up well as can we expected? Sir? Good
to hear that now time is a factor here, so
let's get straight to it. I've heard you may be
leaving us, and in your position, I can't blame you.
A lot of lucrative offers out there for a man
of your talents. I believe I may have one that
will suit you. To be honest, I didn't know what
to say to this. In my experience, this wasn't how
things were done, he continued. I was contacted this morning
by some one I respect, former ODDNY to ask if
I had a suitable candidate for a team he is heading.
To be clear, this is nessippy with a blank check
run in conjunction with some of our private contractors and assets.
You were the obvious choice. No family, I thought, if
you're interested, I'll pass you through to another call when
the project leads. Give these men your consideration, Son, this
is a unique opportunity to serve our country and be
well rewarded. Can't deny I was intrigued as much as
I had been toying with the prospect of civilian life.
It wasn't a comfortable feeling. I'll admit it scared me
a little. The fear of being with up purpose. At
least that's how I imagined it at the time. Yes
or no. Matthew, yes, Sir's decision. In that case, my
involvement ends and this discussion never took place. Understood, understood, sir.
He nodded to me, and the screen went blank. My
connection was writed to a platform I didn't recognize. In
the following minutes, I received download requests for some heavy
duty encryption and security software. Once they completed, a fresh
call screen opened. There were two others present, but no
video or ID. Their audio carried a mild distortion, likely
some form of voice masking. The conversation only lasted two minutes.
They gave me a brief overview of the project and
what would be required of me, dates and times. Officially,
we would be employed by private entity, as there could
be no paper trayal, no traceable association to any branch
of government, plausible deniability in case of a catastrophic intelligence leak.
The pay was more than adequate and my immediate discharge
would be facilitated. What wasn't discussed were any details of
the operation. They simply told me I would be briefed
on site. The call ended and one of those new
security programs kicked in, cleaning itself in any trace of
the last fifteen minutes from my system. That was how
it began for me. I were within the sections purview
for the next four years until I accepted the truth.
We all know. There are crimes committed in the name
of our country, all manner of evils, concealed by those
in power, and my own silence was a part of that.
As long as I kept their secrets, I was as
guilty as they were. So I decided to tell my story.
I've lost everything because of that choice, but I won't stop.
I'll post the truth wherever I can until they find me.
There is an old court that stuck with me through
the years, spoken nine centuries ago by the kne of Jerusalem.
I think of it, damned near every night, wore its
rising up in the quiet moments, as I drive through
the night, watching my mirror for a tale, as I
give another false name at another cheap motel, as I
sleep alone in the woods, gun in my hand, I
find myself with spring. It a prayer, a mantra, and
a curse. When you stand before God, you can say,
but I was told by others to do this or that.
Virtue was not convenient at the time. This will not advice. Indeed,
I will not so here we are. If you are
hoping for scientific and technical detail on what I saw, sorry,
but I'm not that guy. I'm no pH d. And
all relevant intelligence was on a need to know basis.
Compatmentalization is key to security. There are thousands of people
all over the US who have worked on beyond top
secret projects and never had any idea what they were
a part of. In the most basic scenario, think of
it like this. You need someone to drive a truck,
doesn't mean they need to know what's in it. Even
the information I did learn of the project and its
history was limited. I received some general scene setting in
early briefings and picked up the rest over time. To
the best of my knowledge, a site was discovered through
regularities on standard size mixedcans. Some bright spotmashed the co
ordinates which record its satellite interference, then took a field
trip to check it out. What they discovered worked its
way up the ladder until some one senior enough made
the decision to lock it down and bury everyone involved
in DA. The land surrounding the anomaly was brought up
through private third parties, and a mining concern created its
cover on August fifteenth, I took a flight out of
San Diego, arriving for a pick up a round three
hours later. After two decades of traveling overseas, this was
a genuine pleasure. I was collected by another Expecial Forces operative,
let's call him Mark. We drove eight aros from city
to suburb to empty plain, arriving in the mountains after dark.
Mark was much of a talker, but neither was I,
so we got along just fine. After an hour of
winding through in the forest, we reached our destination, a turrum.
Mark had a quico for the first gate of vehicle
sized entrance on a high perimeter fence. The road took
us to a complex of buildings nestled on the mountain side.
We were met there by two armed guards who escorted
us from then on. They led us inside one of
the larger structures and pointed out where our living quarters
were located. Then took us down a narrow set of
stairst cold and empty basement. There were steel double doors
built into the wall, approximately twenty feet wide, which provided
access to the interior of the mountain itself. We entered
ard what had once been a natural cave network now
enlarged and extended through the recent excavation. A single powerful
Allied D strip ran down the center of the ceiling,
and there were cameras at every corner. It was a
five minute walk through those stone passages before we reached
the final checkpoint. This door was air date six inch
thick steel and must have weighed the better part of
a ton. On the other side was the project control center.
It was a relatively basic set up, one equipment tower
with computer stations on either side, a generator and several
stacks of containers. On the opposite side of this area,
I saw a second edit steel door. There were only
three people present. First was a tall, thin Mail and
his fifties, who introduced himself as Adam, the on site lead,
and I suspected one of the men I had spoken
to by video call. Next was Joanna, an intelligence analyst
and agency liaison. Last was Luke, who would be part
of the security detail with Mark and me. There were
never many people present. In fact, I rarely saw more
than half a dozen at any one time. The remaining
three members of the team arrived in the next hour,
and our initial briefing took placedly after Adam called everyone
together and we introduced ourselves. I would be leading the
security team, and when there were no calms with Bass
assume overall command. Mark and Luke completed my squad. John,
a Grayhay physicist, would lead the science team. Peter was
a geologist and the youngest of the group at thirty six.
He was their third, a biologist with a deep Southern accent.
Regarding the team's numbers, in particular the three minutes free split,
that was a concern. As far as I had been
led to believe this was primarily a military operation, I
had no idea what we would be facing, so I
didn't want civilians on the first trip down. I was overruled.
Adam never said it aloud, but we were clearly under
serious timeue pressure. I didn't discover why until several years later.
The next morning, Joanna took us through to see the
object that had brought us all there, the anomaly. She
called it, not going to lie. It was much to
look at, not at first. It occupied the center of
another excavated room, surrounded by an array of monitoring equipment.
From a distance, I thought it was just a hole
on the floor, nothing more than a tunnel with oddly
colored sides, but on approach I realized it was actually
separate from the rock, a pale tube fifteen feet in diameter,
rigidly extending a few inches up from the stone, encasing it.
The material which formed it possessed a faint luminescence, a
milky light, which swelled or shrunk in each passing moment.
Despite this, when I stared downside, I found the interior
plunged rapidly into total darkness. At the mouth. There was
also a mild disturbance in the air, at tiny waves
of heat and humidity which buffeted my skin. The surface
of the tunnel wall appeared to be in constant motion,
reflecting and distorting any light that fell on it. The
on site team referred to this structure of biofilm, though
they never successfully acquired a sample to confirm its nature.
It was only two inches at its thickest point, yet
penetrating it in any way had proven impossible. Nothing was
able to pierce the surface. Ferralls, graphine blades, and even
in infraid solid state laser all failed. Forceal radiation of
any kind was almost instantly dissipated throughout the biofilm. The
only measurable effect of any of these tests was a
temporary increase in luminescence. As for the interior, they tried
sending drones down in early July. Both units were lost
to electromagnetic interference in the first fifty feet, dropping lifeless
into the dark like Pennis at a well. To be
fair to the team involved, there was no messing around.
In the third attempt, they lowered heavily reinforced and insulated
instrument platform mon steel wire cabling, the kind of unit
that could survive a volcano or the ocean floor. That
worked better until they ran out of cable at two miles.
The next attempt reached seven miles. The readings these units
returned were unusual, to say the least inside the tunnel.
There was no variation in temperature, humidity by atmospheric pressure,
none whatsoever, thirty two point three degrees celsius, and humid
as a rainforest every inch of the way down to
seven miles. Now, just for comparison, a line outside the
case averaged twelve degrees that month, and dustry there inside
the tunnel was also tested for airborne toxins and other
trace materials. This result was even stranger. There was nothing detected,
not so much as a microbe. It was as if
the atmosphere inside remained completely sterilized despite being opened to
the air. On August tenth, the censor platform was loaded
for a third time. This attempt halted at nine miles.
They had found something we had set out to send
for August seventeen, eight hundred hours. A left had been
constructed the previous day after a final delivery of equipment.
It looked reassuringly dirty and had a max carry weight
of twenty thousand pounds, so we would be well within
safety parameters. The miles of cable had been arriving for
days and were laid out everywhere you looked. Our gear
was all excellent quality third generation night vision PP respirators,
though there was no indication yet we would require them
custom make keV composite body armor, sanded CLOCK nineteen side arms,
and modified MK seventeen as caused for the security detail.
Not everyone's favorite weapon, but I never had an issue.
We also used an interlinked vidiocomms system where everything we
saw and heard was recorded and could be viewed in
real time or replayed by any other member. This system
also included location trackers built into our helmets if I
was going to be petty, which I am. The chest
rake had a stupid design and the pockets won big enough,
but no serious complaints. The lift had two sections. At
the base was a detachable cargo area which we had
pat with flood light and generators. Above was the main carriage,
which would hold ourselves and all other equipment and supplies.
The big part of that weight was devoted to fluids
in expectation of high temperature and humidity. Mark Luke and
myself had been through hotter with heavier gear, but the
three civilians were likely to struggle. The six of us
entered the lift at seven fifty five for final checks.
I received the go ahead on schedule, locked the gate
in place, and we began our descent. The bioluminescence faded
and our own harsh lights took over. Even Peter were
visibly nervous, fidgeting and whispering to each other. I remember
looking up and watching the circle of light above shrink
as we left the surface behind. The lift ascended of
fifteen miles per hour, which gave an esta made a
travel time of forty five minutes with regular stops. Calm
links to base were used as by the two mile
point and never improved. Our direct links between each other
remained viable with only minor interference. Adam had warned us
to expect headed fatigue and sudden rises embodied due to
the electromagnetic radiation, and though we all felt those effects
to varying degrees, it was never as severe as originally feared.
If I recle correctly. We made our stops every two miles.
John would check the atmospheric stats each time before we proceeded.
Eve made fresh attempts to take samples of the biofilm,
without success. Little could be seen through the tunnel walls,
but our geologists remained into used. He told me something
about basalt and water bearing minerals, which I am sure
would have been fascinating if I understood it. We reached
six miles at thirty four minutes. The only sound was
the movement of the lift cables and our own breeding.
The only lighter flickering lamps. When we passed seven point
seven miles, John asked for our attention. We are now
deeper than humans have ever even drilled. At this depth,
we would expect temperatures of one hundred eighty degrees celsus
three hundred fifty six degrees fahrenheit. He held up his
thermometer reading and smiled. But it still thirty two point
three zero variation extraordinary. He held up his thermometer reading
and smiled, But its still thirty two point three zero
variation extraordinary. We continued down steadily and without incident. Mark
and Luke were quiet and professional. As expected. The three
members of the science team handled the conditions bitter than
I could have hoped. After forty three minutes, I called
for everyone to put on their breathing apparatus. Planned we
had air quality monitored in the shaft, but beyond that
was a mystery. No one spoke as those final seconds
came and went. We arrived on schedule, the tunnel walls
vanishing on all sides. As we descended into an immense
and silent darkness, I slowed the lift to a halt
and peered over the edge with my torch on full.
The last probe state indicated a solid surface, and that
appeared to be accurate it. I dropped down on destride
of what covered by biofilm, nowhere different to the walls
of the tunnel we had just left In fact, the
biofilm extended and broken in every direction, suggesting we were
simply in the swelling of the tunnel, as opposed to
an entirely new area. It was, and I cannot stress
this enough, the deepest pitch black have ever experienced. As
powerful as they were, our torches illuminated such narrow bands
that they felt almost useless. I have no doubt the
silence played a part in this impression. There was no
sound but that which we made ourselves, not so much
as a trickle of water. I imagined. I could feel
the weight of all those miles above bren Down, billions
of tons of stone between us and the light from
the faces of the others. I don't think I was
the only one. When the six of us had exited,
we began set up unpacking the flood lights, generators, and
other supplies. I retested all location trackers and local teamcomm network,
flicking through each man as video and audio, and found
it working with minimal shoes. I tried the gent three
night vision, but there was little to see other than
an empty expanse, quiet and waiting. The infrared setting was
useless due to interference. When the equality checks were complete,
we removed our breeding apparatus. There was still no detectable
variation in atmospheric conditions and no sign of toxins or
other bay or hazards. Mark found the remains of the
two drones that had fallen weeks before and packaged them
for a return. We had brought a fresh drone, but
it could only manage a few seconds of flight before
interference killed it. John began work on alternatives imaging systems
that could provide an advanced picture of our surroundings. He
called us over thirty minutes later on his green the
scandatea fed back rendering a three dimensional model of the
cavern's interior. We stood in the basin of a huge ovoid,
three miles long, two miles wide, and one mile tall.
And there was something else in the center of the chamber,
beginning just one hundred feet above us. What the fuck
is that? Said Mark, I suspect he spoke for all
of us in the silence over our heads. A gigantic
cylinder round the full length of the expanse. If the
imaging was correct, it was almost two miles long, with
a diameter of half a mile. I found myself involuntarily
glancing up though I knew my eyes couldn't penetrate the darkness.
It isn't attached to anything, John tapped the image on
his green. This artifact above us. It isn't touching the
surrounding structure, not anywhere, no visible support. It's just floating
for lack of a better word. It only took us
a couple of minutes dangle some floodlights directly upwards than
Zuma Kama and the object. We could see it up there,
but there was no great detail for me to describe.
All the light revealed was a dull, metallic surface, the
smooth skin of the sleeping giant hanging over us. All right,
I checked the time and decided to push on. Let's
get back to it. We've got a schedule to keep.
As we worked, I noticed the bioluminescence had picked up
around the lift, in both surface area and intensity. I
didn't know whether to be a nerve or thankful. It
took us two iOS to set up the field of
cables and lighting. When we were complete, almost a quarter
of the chamber four had enough elimination for us to
find our way without night vision. The lamp still flicker,
but we would have to live with it. I had
created and overlaid a location grid in the model's John
had produced. Once every one confirmed access to this on
our handsets, we agreed to regroup at base camp. The
walk back was when he fell. I heard her in
tick of breath and curse on the audio, then Louke
helping her up. I switched to her video feed on
my own headset. If you are right, what happened? Sorry?
She sounded more irritated than her chirped. I watched the
live feet as a bowel. Just dusted herself down and
began to examine the ground around her feet. It was
as flat and featureless as any other part of the biofilm.
I definitely tripped on something sharp, she said, it was
right here. Looked. I saw him helping her search. Didn't
see anything, sir, he replied, I'm not imagining it. I
know what I felt. I rewound her footage and played
it back. Eve had been watching where she was going,
and I couldn't see a reason for the fall. Nothing
on your camp, Luke didn't see it. Nothing there now.
Let put it down as a stumble and move on.
I didn't stumble. I could hear the frustration in her
voice and saw on her live feet that she had
sat back down. As I watched, she rolled up a
trozzo leg and focused the visual on her shin. An
ugly cut was bleeding just beneath her knee. O K.
Eve point made. I'm not doubting you, but for now,
there's nothing else we can do. Let's get back to base,
patch that up and stick to our schedule. If this
time we'll return to this area to investigate. Mark it
on your map. Grid. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. I've
heard that or said it myself at just about every
bostop de brief I was ever a part of. I
could have stopped the mission right there, pulled everyone back
to the lift and got out of there. I could have,
but I didn't. We topped up on fluids then set
out on our assigned paths. I led Team one, myself
and Peter on perimetery coon. Team two, Mark and John
would go straight down the center of the cavern beneath
the artifact. Team three, Luke and Eve would remain at
base until another squad returned. I estimated my team would
take four iOS with a couple of breaks. Mark and
John three hours as we approached the midway point of
the cavern. The floodlights had long faded behind us. The
weight of darkness seemed to press in a vast emptiness,
swallowing the sound of our steps. I found myself getting jittery,
genuinely nervous for the first time in years. Fwit stunned
my eyes as I checked and which checked all location.
When we sopped to drink, I activated my mic up
its team too, fourth stop, Mark replied, taking more readings
from the artifact. I heard John's voice in the background.
Then he clicked on his omac and repeated himself so
I could hear the electromagnetic interferences from the cylinder. Almost
certain of that now it appear as weak as at
the midpoint, rising in intensity at either end. Still to
confirm that, of course, or write Team three no issues.
Luke's voice comm and assured completed equipment diagnostics good to
go when needed. I noted cohm'squality degrading with distance. It
seemed likely we would lose contact with lukenive by the
time we reached the far end of the chamber. My
train of thought was broken by Peter's hand on my arm.
I turned and saw him pointing ahead. I see a lie,
he said, grids one hundred nine, maybe well one hundred ten.
I peered into the distance where he indicated there was
definite lumination. They a dull red which varied in intensity. Afflick.
The COM's back on. This is Team one. We may
have found something point to investigate. Pridz Owe hundred nine.
The glow increased in size and strength as we approached.
When we got within fifty feet, it became a part
that was radiating from the biofilm wall of fluctuating crimson,
shining through the material of the chamber. It was moving,
I realized, flowing slowly down the wall, then across the floor.
Its lava. Peter was smiling broadly, his face bit in
red light. Fascinated and amused and equal measure. He stepped
forward and reached up a glowing surface, placing his hand
against it before I could stop him. It's cool, he said,
with a laugh, waving his hand back at me. No
heat transfer it all the close we could see the
biofilm itself shimmering, whatever substance it was made of, free
directing and distributing the heat and pressure from the molten rock.
As we stood and watched the flow searge beneath our feet,
quickly growing to many times its original area and brightness,
engulfing us both in its luminescence. My god, look at that.
I followed Peter's gaze, and my breath caught in my throat.
The lover cast its light across the chamber, caressing all
before it in a sea of dark fire. High above us,
the dick and got fact hung suddenly revealed, still unsilent
and alien. This is teamed too. John's voice interrupted us.
We found a discontinuity in the cylinder's surface. It's a
narrow circular channel, faint light emanating from it, approximate radius
of forty feet. Purely speculation, but perhaps an entrance of
some sort. I tried to reply, but a burst of
static left the audio crackling. When I switched to John's
video feed, it flickered. Too bad to see anything, Look,
said Peter. Behind me. The love is culling against the
biofilm fading already. I mean that was seven hundred degrees
at minimum. Our Team one, Matthew, John's voice came through again.
This is Team one, I replied, Go ahead, Mark is
on missing. I turned and he was gone just seconds ago.
I can't see him and he isn't answering oncomm's I
pulled up the location trackers. Marks had vanished and his
video and audio were dared. His gun is here, John said.
I switched to his video feed and saw the physicist
pick up the enk mien of seventeen. It's just lying here, John,
listen to me. I pulled up Mark's video history as
I spoke, do not move, stay right where you are
in a wait instruction. Mark's video cut out ninety seconds
earler one frame he was watching JHN walk ahead of him.
Next frame, the signal was gone. I ignored my rising
heart rate and focus John. Do you read me? Yes?
On here, I hear you. Stay arm comms, do not
leave this line. We will come to you. I have
you at Gridmond hundred one. Correct? Yes, yes, that sounds correct.
Put all your lights on full and stay calm. We're
on route. I realized I had already started towards him,
and Peter was running behind me to catch up. Team
one to Team three. We may have an issue. Marks,
amaye heading to last known location double time. Be ready
to move if we require assistance. No problem, Leake's voice
standing by. Seconds later, Mark's locator returned on tracking, but
his video and audio remained out. According to the signal,
he was only thirty feet from his last known position, John,
I need you to do something from me? All right?
Are you close? Four minutes? Look on your personnel tracker
Marx's back northwest of view, very close, see it? Yes,
I see the signal. Shine you alights in that direction
for me. I watched his feet as he turned to
the correct heading and aimed his torches. What's that? He said?
No longer able to hide the trimmer in his voice,
I assumed in the picture to be certain, it's Mark's helmet,
I replied, quickening my pace again, don't move two minutes
ragged breeding behind me as he struggled to keep pacete.
I remember calling back to him that we were almost there.
Hey up, Matthew. John's voice wavering. Aye. I think his
camera went blank and his locationor vanished. Mark's disap heared
with it. I halted, weapon raised. Peter missed my hand's
signal and almost ran into me, clutching my pack to
stop himself from falling. John I called over the coms.
There was no reply. We were close, but I couldn't
see anything ahead or hear anything other than Peter's brilliant
Mark John John, does anyone read me decisions? I have
potentially lost two of my team regroup or search with
so little idea of what had happened. Either could be disastrous.
H Mark cracked under the pressure, wandered off, then returned
and taken John. It didn't seem likely. The man was
a professional as experienced as I was. Was a two
accidents back to back which cut off all contact? That
seemed even less likely. What did that leave Hostels? Team?
Want to team free? Luke, we have a problem here.
Have you been listening? Yes, sir, every word? What's your situation?
Ah was just about to call you, sir. The comms
crackled as he spoke, but I could still make him out.
May have a problem here too. I'm reading some fell
flood lights on Team two's route, started right at the
perimeter and working back toward us at Base Free. Done now,
any ideas, sir, Nothing to do with us. I checked
the system and he was right. All the outages were
in a straight line from the further stage of lights
towards the lift. A fourth flashed out as I watch
I could feel things spiraling out of control, Luke, I
can't risk my people hunting for Mark and John. I've
no idea what we're facing here. Return into you hold
your position, yes, sir. We began moving again back to
base at the best speed Peter could manage. On the display,
I watched the line of floodlights continued to flick out.
Luke Citrup lost more lights. Two left on this grid line.
Eve said she tried the thermal imaging. I heard her
voice in the background, fast and rising. Frightened, Luke, what's
going on? Weapons fire in the distance? Two bursts from
an m came in a seventeen. I froze and stared
in the direction of the sound on my tracker. Their
signals vanished. I dropped to one knee and scan every
patch of light head through my scope. Peter was at
my shoulder, gasping for breath. What the fuck was there?
He said? Quiet? I cut him off, Luke. If someone
answered me, no reply. There was nothing on any line
but static. My heart was raising. I looked at the
gridword of floodlights went out. There was a second line
of failure for me. Now a new path which led
away from the lift towards us. I wavered. Despite all
my training and experience, I was afraid, and it was
breaking me. I had faced death before, taken a bullet
more than once, but this wasn't the same. I felt
as helpless as a child, crushed by a simple, primal
fear as old as our species itself, the fear of
what might wait in the dark. I don't want to
die here, I thought, regripping my weapon. Do not die here.
I will not die here. Peter listened to me, breathe.
Put your hand on my shoulder. Do not let go.
We are not going to stop again from here to
the lift. Put all your lights out, do not activate calms.
We are silent from here on in understand He began
to speak, then nodded instead. Shit, I thought. If I
was scared, I couldn't even imagine what he was going through, though.
I chose a route which swung away from the disabled lights,
taking us to the lift in a wide lip. Every
few seconds more floodlights cut off. On the read up.
The path halted at our previous location, then began again
in a scattershot patten, expanding from that point a search pattern.
It became a race soaked in sweat and shaking with adrenaline,
every muscle burning, waiting every second for something to come
out of the dark. A minute out, the closest light
to our left failed. I swung us away from it,
weapon up, arm shaking, pointing the barrel into the black.
Peter was in desperate shape behind me, a stumbling weight
hanging on my side. I saw the lift ahead. Every
nearer by floodlight was down, but two we were close.
Maybe thirty seconds another light went out fifty feet behind
us Peter. I was gasping for air, myself straight inside.
Twenty seconds. Get it moving, I'll cover the door. Only
one light remained ten seconds at Peter's hand came off
my shoulder and I turned just in time to see
him die. It lasted only a fraction of a second.
Something grasped him from the shadows, but I couldn't make
it out, only the way it held him. It crushed
him before he could even cry out. I stumbled back
back and fell, my weapon hung limp in my hand.
I hadn't even fire, wouldn't even know what to shoot at.
I scrambled away on all fours, then back to my
feet and through the lift gate, finger back on my trigger.
Then I was in one hand working the panel and
the other trying to keep my weapon. Then the lift
began to ascend. I left them all behind. I sometimes
wonder if guilt is wind doing this now. I say,
I'm posting this because it's the right thing, the moral thing,
to give people the truth? Am I lying to myself
is a skilt masquerading as righteousness? How would I know?
In the grand scheme of things do my reasons even matter?
All that matters is the truth. People have a right
to know what is coming. More than that, they have
a right to know what is already here. I set
the lift to match a cent speed of thirty miles
per hour. It will get me to the surface in
eighteen minutes. Exhaustion took over. I slid to my knees,
pulled off my helmet, and poured water over myself. I
was on my knees in the corner forehead against the
cold metal beside the combs panel. Every detail raced through
my mind, over and over, every mistake and failure in
his judgment. I started getting into Mittan calms around two miles.
I kept trying and finally got through it one mile.
I can't remember my exact words. I told them I
was the only survivor, that I was alone only minutes away.
Most of their replies were lost to static. Then Joanna's
voice came through clear, repeating a question, Matthew, main carriage
weight reads nine hundred pounds. If you are alone, what
are you bringing up? I remember those moments, confusion to
realization to horror. I knew there was nothing in the
cargo hold. It had been sealed when empty. There had
been nothing in the carriage either, nothing I could see, MA,
can you hear me? I reached for the control panel,
typed in the emergency overrides, and detached the cargo hold.
I felt the weight go howd a crash from below
as it caught the tunnel wall and spun into the darkness.
I switched the screen to lift diagnostics. The carriage weight
was still nine hundred. I stopped the ascent to close
my eyes breed. It grew quite as though lift settled.
I remember I was still on my knees, one hand
on my weapon. I waited, listening a creek from behind me,
the tiniest shifting of weight in the left corner. I
spun an open fire at the sudden roar of my rifle,
deafening in the enclosed space, and I was in the air,
sound from a massive impact, then falling, striking the tunnel
wall and falling with the lift going past. I should
be dead. It was locked out, save me nothing else.
My left leg went through one of the support bars
that had held the cargo bay. As I swung back,
my flailing hand grasped metal and I held myself there.
My gun was gone and I couldn't feel my left arm.
Then the pain came, waves of blinding pain from my
shoulder and across my torso, blood rushing down my chairs.
I could see it pouring into the dock below me.
As I fought to pull myself up, I heard and
felt more movement above me, A sudden jerk as weight
was lifted than the scrape of something on the cables,
shaking the entire left back and forth. Whatever had been
in there with me was climbing the rest of the
way out. Mah, what's going on? We hear weapons fire.
I realized only a few seconds had passed since I
had opened fire. Matt. Then it cut out for the
last time. I heard gunshots from above, many gunshots, and
what I think was screams. I don't know how long
it took me to get back up. I was faint
and in shock from blood loss and trauma. Don't even
remember activating the left There was a whole clean through
the ballistic plate in my body armor and shoulder. My
m came in as seventeen was on the floor, dead
bodies and destroyed equipment. Adam and Joanna, what remained of them,
were in the control room. The huge airtet steel door
had been torn out of the wall and tossed aside
like it was made of cardboard. I was the only
one left alive, and the thing I had brought to
the surface was gone. And that is the end. Thank
you for listening, and I will see you in the
next one.