Casey Lockhart's Arc

Chapter 1 of 5

Casey Lockhart came to this planet for one thing: exotic materials nobody had ever touched. She stepped off the shuttle onto cracked red rock threaded with dark green moss. Her scanner ticked in her gloved hand. The pay was good. The sector's reputation was not. Six hours ago she'd told herself the money made up for the strange readings. Now, boots on alien ground, she wasn't sure it did. Behind her, Yuri Metov dragged crates from the shuttle. He was her assistant, the one who carried what she handed him and never asked why. He set a crate down, tipped back the bottle of vodka she'd given him last week, and swallowed. "Camp there," Casey said, pointing to a flat shelf of rock. "Fine," Yuri said. He didn't ask why. He never did. He bolted panels together until a squat grey shack stood on the shelf. His hands worked steady even as the bottle emptied. Casey watched him wobble once and catch himself on the metal wall. She left him to it and walked the ridge. Her scanner needle jumped hard. She followed it to a low bed of red rock. Green goo pooled in the cracks, glowing soft and steady. The scanner named it and flagged it valuable. Very valuable. "Yuri," she called. "Bring canisters." He came, swaying, and knelt beside her. They dipped canisters into the goo. It clung and pulsed and lit their faces green. Casey sealed each one into a crate. Six canisters. Then eight. She did the math and smiled. This one bed could pay for the whole trip. Then the goo moved. A lump of it rose and split. Beady black eyes opened. A small octopus creature pulled itself free, slick and glowing, tentacles gripping the rock. It stared at Casey. Around it, more lumps stirred. The goo wasn't a mineral. It was them. "They live in it," Casey said. "We took their eggs." Yuri stood too fast and dropped his bottle. It shattered. The sound cracked across the ridge. The creatures answered. Dozens surged from the rock, tentacles lashing, moving toward the shack in a glowing tide. "Grab the crate," Casey said. "Now." Yuri hauled it. Casey backed away, scanner up. The needle spiked—a clean, strong reading—then dropped to nothing. The same silence as before. Something here noticed her. They ran for the shack. Casey slammed the hatch as the first creatures hit the panels. Wet slaps rang against the metal. She locked the crate of canisters in the corner. Eight sealed containers of glowing green. Worth a fortune. Yuri leaned on the wall, breathing hard, no bottle left to steady him. "They want it back," he said. "I know," Casey said. Outside, the tapping spread across every panel. The shack was surrounded. She had the material she came for. Now she had to keep it, and get off this planet alive.