Issue #135

Last Breath


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My name is Trans. I’m the last surviving member of the colonization unit sent here to Dazmar. There were twelve of us originally in the group and as of this moment, I am the only one left. If you are reading this, chances are I’ll be dead as well.


At least I hope I will be. Because then, there will be no need to try and bring me back home. No need to attempt some last minute medical heroics, that could easily lead to one of you being infected with what is waiting inside of me.


We arrived here with so much hope at the promise that this world offered. It had taken so long to find a planet suitable to support human life, but that also lacked any kind of pre-existing civilization, which could complicate colonization efforts. Everything seemed like it was going to be perfect.


It never occurred to any of us to wonder why there was no sign of civilization here, on the planet.


Dianne was the first one to die.


I wish I could say that she had been sick, but the reality is that there was no outward sign of any kind of illness that we witnessed, in her, or anyone who would die after. There was no clear indication of anything wrong with them before, or even after they passed. It was almost as if life itself had just departed from them.When Dianne collapsed during her shift, we had preserved the body for an autopsy, but before we could even do that much, she had vanished from the morgue. From inside a locked storage unit.


Gone.


About a week later, people started reporting seeing Dianne around the compound. We all wrote off the few incidents as hysterics, people getting stir crazy, isolated out here in the reaches. People need to maintain a connection of some kind with someone who is no longer with us. Soon though, every one of us had seen her in one place or another, but whenever anyone tried to talk to her, or get her to communicate, she would simply vanish, walk around a corner or into a room and by the time you caught up with her, she’d be gone.


Howard was the first one that she attacked. It happened two weeks to the day after her death. She surprised him on the way back to his quarters, but despite the apparent severity of her attack, he seemed to be fine. There were no wounds, he didn’t even come away from it with a bruise. We all assumed he had been lucky, and set to trying to decide what to do about this thing that was wandering around the compound, somehow made up to look like Dianne.


There was as push from several of the crew to pack up, and head for home. After a close vote, we all decided to stay here.


Thank Christ we did.


The next day, Howard died. Again, no clear cause of death, and up until the moment it occurred, he seemed fit and healthy, nothing to possibly predict what was about to happen. I wanted to conduct the autopsy the moment we found him, but I was overruled and into the morgue he went.


As before, with Dianne, his body soon vanished. And now we had two former crew members hunting us.


I can’t explain what is happening, or why, but it seems like the virus gets inside you and somehow gestates, ending the host’s life and bringing about some kind of transformation. As far as I have been able to determine, there is no way to tell if someone has been infected, and there are no warnings or symptoms.


When you find us, I can’t stress enough the need to immediately evacuate. I can only pray that you are following standard protocol and are still inside your protective suits. Get your crew out, and make sure no one ever returns to this planet. It’s too late to save me, but if this virus were to be set loose on a large population, there’s no way to know what it could do.


I’m starting to feel disorien     birds     don’t think that I could ev


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Lights popped on throughout the habitat pod, as the recovery crew came across the body slumped over the desk. Sergeant Rossens bent over the corpse, lifting up the head and checking for vitals, before looking around the area to find any possible cause of death. There was no sign of violent trauma or of a struggle. The boy didn’t seem sick, although Rossens knew that didn’t count for much.


“This one’s dead,” he said to the other two members of the team. The badge on his wrist chimed, indicating normal atmospheric conditions. He removed his helmet and looked over the items on the desk. There was a sheet of paper underneath the kid’s hand, something he had been writing on. He picked it up to examine it.


“What is that?” Franklin asked, glancing back at him over his shoulder.


Rossens frowned and shook his head. “No idea. It’s all gibberish, I can’t understand a word of it.” He looked around the room again. “There’s nothing left here. The crew must have bailed and left this poor bastard behind. Let’s get the body loaded up and we can get headed for home. Fleet command can autopsy the body, back on Earth.”


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Published on January 13, 2016 06:00
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