Steven Montano
Zone 66
4
zone 66
At 1830 hours the GX50 transport touched down at the edge of Zone 66.
Eagerness on the team’s part to get out of the craft and stretch their legs was quickly supplanted by the overwhelmingly bleak landscape that awaited them. Cole stood near the middle of the clustered team as they drew on their bio-suits and armored vests and readied weapons and gauges. Her stomach was doing somersaults, and her skin was bathed with cold and nervous sweat. She pulled back her thick red hair into a ponytail she could squeeze under her helmet (she’d strongly considered getting a Pixie cut before leaving New Texas, and based on the heat alone regretted not having done so) as Jones set the craft down on a soiled island in the swamp at the edge of the desired Zone. The plastic-like material of the bio-suit creaked when she moved, and Cole already felt constricted by how tightly it fit against her lithe frame, and knew it would only get worse once she donned the armor vest.
“Remember,” Goss said from the front of the craft, where he held onto the rollbar over the cockpit entrance and gazed out over Jones’ shoulder, “each of the vests has a tracker and a vitals readout, so if for some reason we get separated me or Jones will still be able to find you. No daisy picking, though: we’re here for a reason and we have a limited time window. Storms touch down every fourteen hours and will continue to do so until we install atmospheric processors, which we can’t do until we erect the Bridge.”
The vessel shook as it touched down on sodden earth, and for a moment Cole’s breath caught in her chest at the sound and sensation of the metal beast sinking slowly into the mud. She pictured them continuing down, an accidental submersion, but after a few moments their descent halted, and when Jones powered down the engines the squelch of the remains of the old landing pad beneath them echoed noisily through the craft’s steel walls.
“Is this safe?” Lee asked as they gazed out.
Ahead of them, at the edge of a fetid green swamp filled with bubbling bogs, slithering vines and half-submerged trees covered with slime and spores lay a black landscape and a black sky, so thick and dark it was as if ink had been spilled from the heavens and blotted out the sun. Zone 66 looked like a hole, and the cold darkness was deep. The longer Cole watched it the more she had a sensation of being drawn in, and it was with some effort she pulled her eyes away to refocus. When she looked again she could make out more of the depth and details: the edge of the forest beyond the swamp was burned black, and the dark sky was a result of the coming storm, a thick armada of ebony clouds blazed pale by the occasional burst of distant lightning. Diaz opened the side hatch, and even with the protective force screen in place the hot damp of the planet oozed into the vessel, rank odor and excessive humidity overpowered only by the ionized taste of the air. Multiple peels of distant thunder echoed like the steady approach of great beasts.
“There a reason we parked in the swamp instead of on stable ground?” Diaz asked as he gazed out.
“This is stable ground,” Jones said. “Orders were to park here, on the remains of the pad exactly half a klick outside of Zone 66 approaching from the south.”
“So if the order was to park in a rhino’s ass, would you do that, too?” Diaz snapped.
“I don’t think you’d appreciate me landing inside your mom like that,” Jones answered.
“Can it,” Goss said with a bored tone. “Readings indicate the swamp water is only a few inches deep, Diaz, so I think you’ll live. We need to enter the Zone on foot so the atmosphere doesn’t kill the craft’s circuits.”
“Yeah, I’d rather not walk home,” Black added.
“It really does that?” Lee asked. “The Zones kill electrics?”
“It’s been known to happen,” Rawlins said. Everyone donned helmets and zipped up the chests and arms of their suits, pulled on gloves and checked survey equipment and weapons. “The atmospheric storms seem to carry an EMP pulse.”
“Not just God’s will?” Lee asked with a teasing smile.
“That, too,” Rawlins answered with a grin and a nod.
Cole looked ahead at the darkness, and felt something go cold inside. Something was waiting for them.
Come to me.
A real voice, or just imagined? It was hard to tell with all of the commotion. She shook her head. Just her imagination. She grabbed her telemetry board and spatial gauges, dropped them into her pack along with a pair of handheld scanners, binoculars, extra batteries, and an R7 .38 caliber automatic pistol she hoped she had no call to use, though she’d always carried a weapon in the field for as long as she’d been an Engineer for good luck, and though she’d never used it outside of a range she wasn’t one to break with tradition. She checked it, made sure the safety was engaged, then slid it back in its holster and cinched up her pack.
“You okay?” Lee asked. Her voice was muffled and somewhat metallic behind the bio mask, a large filter with goggles tied tightly to her face.
“Yeah,” Cole said with the best fake smile she could muster, then donned her own mask. The world grew immediately smaller, the hazy air made even grainier now that she could only see it through a pair of narrow and perpetually smudged lenses. She breathed deep, felt filtered air drawn into her lungs, looked around to make sure the mask was tight. “I hate this part.”
“What, stepping onto a new world?” Lee asked. “I love it! It’s so exciting!”
“Keep chatter down to a minimum, please,” Goss said. “Black, take them on out. Diaz, check the ship. Jones, start the scans.”
“Exciting,” Cole said as Black dropped out of the side of the vessel, down about six inches and into the swamp water, which splashed beneath her with a spurt of gases and steam. “Yeah.”
She gazed again into the darkness of Zone 66, took a shuddering breath, and followed Rawlins and Lee out of the vessel.