Warrior: Integration: The Singularity War, #1

By David Hallquist

Back from the dead on a dead world…

 

Left for dead in the Lunar underground, Brandt Wills wakes up to find out his problems are only beginning. Before being dumped, a shadowy organization called "Singularity" implanted an alien parasite in him which is now devouring him from the inside out.

 

In searching for Singularity, he inadvertently alerts them to his condition—he didn't die like he was supposed to—and now Singularity wants him back. At all costs. They will do whatever it takes to capture Brandt, including going to war with Luna if it's required, and if they can't recover him, they will kill him rather than let him get away with the alien symbiont.

 

But the Singularity doesn't know that the symbiont is able to mold and adapt Brandt's body into something better than he was before and, as a prior member of the Special Security forces of Terra, he was already a lethal weapon.

 

With a wise-cracking cyber ghost of a former friend and lover, Brandt will have to find out the secrets of Singularity and the alien symbiont before the monster kills him. Singularity's secrets could mean the death of everyone on Luna…or worse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Theogony Books
• Release date: Oct 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781648550133

Book preview

Part One: The Cave

Chapter 1

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Coming back to life hurts. Maybe more than dying, not that I knew what had killed me. Still, not many men get another chance. If I could only stay alive.

My nerves re-ignite and scream for oxygen as my blood turns acidic and burns. I feel the fire in my veins, and the stabbing pain as I force my heart to beat again by sheer will to live. I try to breathe and only cough and choke on fluid. Desperate for oxygen, my blood rushes to my lungs, trying to grab air that is not there, dumping what little oxygen I have left. I tell my blood to stop that, and it does, carefully hoarding whatever is left as I begin to die again.

I fight my next death with everything I have, reaching for something, anything, that will save me. Something happens, something inside me moves, changes.

Strange new chemicals enter my bloodstream, some kind of witch’s brew that lets me live without oxygen, at least for a while. My thoughts get slow and fuzzy, and all that is left is the most primitive part of the brain, the part that will do anything to survive.

Opening my eyes, I see only darkness and feel the stinging fluid I bathe in. Struggling, I find I’m wrapped in something, it yields a little, but won’t release me. Thrashing desperately, it only tightens around me. I choke on the fluid, trying to breathe it; I so want to breathe again.

No.

I force myself to think again, to slow down as my blood burns. Slowly, carefully, I feel around in the blackness for an edge to the material and find it is a sheet of something I’m wrapped in. I pull it away until I have enough freedom to swim up.

I hit my head on something hard, and the dark world flashes white in pain. Wrong way. I force myself to exhale the last of the air in my lungs and feel which way up is. I feel the bubbles go past me, and I swim after.

The wrapping trails after me, dragging me down, slowing me as I pull desperately at the fluid. I want air so badly, everything else leaves the world.

I break the surface in perfect darkness and gasp for air. I cough and gag on the fluid in my lungs. Thrashing and flailing, I try to find land while lights flash and flare in my vision. That would be my brain getting ready to say good-bye again.

I reach a hard, rocky shore and desperately pull myself out of the chemical brew. I cough up a great lungful of water that never seems to end, never stopping for that one glorious breath of air I so need. Finally, I take a pull of the cold, hard, painful air that burns all the way down.

I scream from the pain and the greatness of being alive again. It’s agony; it’s glorious. Must be why all babies yowl with their first breath.

Gasping, I roll over, the sheets of material still wrapped about me. The darkness is perfect, absolute, immaculate. Had this place ever known light? All around me I can hear drips of water and echoes off of distant walls.

I’m cold. I can imagine the steam of the water rising off of me, stealing away my warmth and life. The wrapping helps keep me warm as I begin to shudder and shake. Already, I cannot feel my feet, bad news.

I want to warm up desperately, then I do. I can feel my veins and arteries open up, bringing heat back to my extremities and skin. My temperature rises to a fever level, and I stop shaking. Is it hypothermia? It can make you feel hot as you freeze to death. I feel warm and comfortable, and the hard stone under my head is as soft as a down pillow. Sleep claws at me, trying to pull me under again.

No. I fight it. I’ll die of exposure here, wherever this is. I don’t know what threats are out there, where I am, who or what did this to me...I don’t even remember who I am.

In the perfect darkness and numbing cold, sleep and reality war for control. Dreams and images dance across the darkness, anything to fill the emptiness with meaning. I fight to stay awake. Sleep means hypothermia and death. Staring up at the immaculate darkness, I don’t even see when my eyes close, and night rolls over me at last.

* * * * *

Chapter 2

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God, I hope this is a dream.

Test Room 12 comes in and out of focus above me. Bright overhead lights and agony wash out any detail.

I struggle and convulse against the restraints and the hard bench I’m fixed to. I try to speak, to scream, but all that comes out is a thin wheeze through my ruined throat. My heart is racing, each beat is agony, and I struggle to breathe with all the tubes in my throat.

Above me, the people in white sterile spacesuits simply watch and record. The subject is failing to adapt to the symbiont, one says calmly.

I look down at myself. Big mistake. Tubes run in and out of every part of me in ways nature never intended. I see darkness crawling up my veins, carrying burning agony to every part of my body. I can feel something spiraling along my nerves, setting them afire.

A monster is growing inside me, eating me alive from the inside, and I cannot stop it. It doesn’t stop with my blood and nerves; it tears through my muscles, breaking through my bones and drilling into my vital organs. It wants all of me; it’ll eat me alive.

Things get even crazier when it reaches my brain. My vision shatters into a million different views, and sounds take on colors and scents. I can feel the strange, alien thoughts of the thing; a monstrous hunger and desire to survive.

Mercifully, all goes dark, and I feel no more.

* * * * *

Chapter 3

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I wake again, surprised to find I am still alive. All around me is the impenetrable darkness with only the memory of light.

I don’t want to move. A cliff, a wall, or any kind of hazard could be hidden in the black. I feel around. The ground is some kind of rough rock, and loose rubble slides across my fingers. The ground is colder than the chill air, but I’m still staying warm somehow.

Where am I? Who am I? Who did this to me? Am I still in danger? How do I get out? Questions pile up, and I go back to the basics. I don’t remember anything, but I remember how to survive.

I have air. It’s cold, but something is keeping me warm, at least for the moment. There is a faint movement to the air, so it isn’t going to get stale too quickly, and most gases would have lurked near the floor and killed me in my sleep. I can hear water, so that will probably help me last longer, as long as it isn’t poisonous.

I pick up one of the pebbles and drop it, listening for the impact echoing off the walls. About 1.6 meters per second, squared. Luna then. Thank God, I’m not stuck on Earth. My Terran physique will give me an edge on a world of lightweights.

I’m going to have to watch it, though. Lunars like to keep the air thin; the lower pressure is easier on the habitats. I could get exhausted quickly in the thin air, I’ll have to pace myself. So far, no signs of trouble though. I’m not light-headed, breathing quickly, or having any headaches. I’ll have to see what happens.

I inhale the stale air deeply through my nose. It’s hard to smell anything past the sharp chemical tang of the nearby fluid and the scent of old death. The sharp gunpowder scent of new Lunar rock is missing, so this is an old cave, the volatiles oxidized long ago. If there had been a pocket of methane, ammonia, or hydrogen sulfide, I’d already be dead anyway.

The cave rock and air are above freezing, so heat must be leaking in from a habitat somewhere. Maybe that Hell-lab place.

So I’m not going to die right away. Check.

I dare to move again and carefully check myself for injuries. Nothing hurts, no bruising, not even any sense of fatigue. All my hair is gone though, everything, even my eyelashes. I find no trace of injuries from the tangle of tubes from my dream, not even a single scar. Was it only a dream?

I’m real hungry, though. Soon, I’m going to need to find food and water, as well as someplace warmer than this chill cave.

I don’t dare move around carelessly. There could be anything down here, including the people who threw me into this pit.

Why did they throw me down here? Even if they thought I was dead, you don’t waste biomass. Water, carbon, nitrogen; a body has everything a body needs. You only throw away biomass on Earth. Am I infected with something so horrible this is the only place to dump my body?

To get answers, to get out of here, I desperately need to see. I try to focus, and stare through the darkness through sheer will, hoping my senses will attune enough to give me some bearing, some hope of escape.

I feel the monster inside come alive again. It begins to move and shift through me, spreading again. It wasn’t a dream after all. I feel it burn into my eyes and ears, and stitch through my skin with threads of fire. It’s everywhere and growing fast. Am I going to check out for good?

No.

I struggle against it, fighting to stay alive. Slowly, I master it and make it back down. The agony subsides to mere pain, and I lie back panting and sweating in the cold.

* * * * *

Chapter 4

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I see a flash of light. Then another. Soon a random series of flashes starts up. If it’s cosmic rays, then I’m being slow-roasted by the universe. Bad news. Or it could be a search party from the Hell-lab. More bad news.

I wait a bit and notice a pattern building. The after-image of the flashes starts forming an image. I can make out the shapes around me in ghostly gray light. Each flash is a photon. This is impossible without augmentation. Do I have some kind of boosted vision?

The image builds up slowly, and I have to be careful not to move my eyes and smear it. The rough outlines of the rock walls in the cave stretch away. The walls have the spiraling cut patterns from tunnel drillers all along the sides. The tunnel is about 3 meters across, and curves out of sight in both directions, with a cross tunnel not too far from where I lie. I can also make out the small pool of fluids I awoke in earlier. It looks like the water is filling the bottom of a vertical shaft intersecting this tunnel, because there’s a shaft in the ceiling right above it that continues upward, out of sight. This must be one of the older, abandoned tunnels in the depths of Luna, made back in the days before real shielding was available on the surface.

Around me lie the dead. Heaps of ruined flesh bob in the fluid and lie scattered by the edges of the pool. I gag and choke it back down. Memories of smoking battlefields come back up, and I force them back down. Not now.

Did anyone else escape that Hell-lab, or are they all dead?

Remaining still, I listen. I can hear the drops of water falling from above and can pinpoint where the pools of water are. The faint sound of the moving air tells me a lot about the layout of these caves, and this maze seems to go on forever. This must have been one of the old mines, for water or other volatiles, maybe. I’ll need to watch out for gas in the lower levels. Distantly, I can hear the scurrying of roaches and the other insect life that we’ve brought to every planet.

I can smell them too. I find I can sort out the millions of scents around me, without any being overpowered by the strong chemical odor in the tunnels. I can smell the roaches, the decaying bodies, plastic and other refuse, and even the faintly salty tang of the rocks around me. I can tell that fresher air is up the tunnel above the pool, and that there is drinkable water down the tunnel that way. Scent becomes a three-dimensional sense, giving me a map of direction, distance, and motion, even in absolute darkness.

I can feel the direction of the faintest breath of the breeze in the tunnel. It’s just a little warmer that way. The slope of the tunnel is almost imperceptible, but I can tell which way it slopes up. Faint vibrations in the rock indicate the machinery functioning scores of meters straight up, and the few people walking about even farther off in the distance. Soon, a complete map of the maze and the complex far above me forms in my brain.

How can I sense all of this? What kind of augmentation do I have? Is this the monster or cybernetic boosting?

I examine the plastic sheet I’m wrapped in by touch, running my fingers across it. There is writing stamped into the durable material. Feeling the slight impressions of the letters, I read it. DISPOSE OF ALL MEDICAL WASTE PROPERLY. It looks like someone didn’t read the instructions.

Since I’m alone, for the moment, I stand up and pull the plastic about me, cinching it up to make crude clothing.

Things are coming back, the feel and sense of how to move on Luna. My body remembers what my brain forgets. Like how not to move too quickly so I don’t hit my head and how to glide rather than walk or run in the low gravity.

I glide back to the shaft. Newcomers to Luna try to walk, jump, skip, or do the Moon Bounce. Locals and others who’ve been here a while know better. You move on Luna with a controlled glide, pushing forward with one foot, but with no upward force, so you just drift over the ground in a low, slow-motion run. You use friction to control your movement, because gravity isn’t going to help you.

How long have I been on Luna? Have I been here before?

I arrive back at the chemical pool I awoke in. There is a shaft leading up over it. I lean over and look up. The spiral cut rock rises into the distance where a metal hatch can faintly be seen; it’s probably how they dispose of bodies and where I came from. I can smell the faint traces of slightly fresher air from above. I can feel the vibrations of machinery and walking men in the complex above.

My answers will be up there.

* * * * *

Chapter 5

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The rock is wet, and there are only the faint grooves that the cutter left so long ago. It’s going to be a tough climb. Still, I can either climb now or try it later when I’m weakened from hunger and cold. I cinch up the plastic around my body so I can climb with my arms and legs free.

I jump up to catch the rim of the rock with my fingers. It’s useless; the grooves are too shallow for any grip, and the rock is slick. My grip gives way, and I slide and fall back into the stinging chemical pool under the shaft.

The chemicals are freezing cold. I clamber back out of the pool and feel the fluid steam off of me, stealing my heat once more. Eventually, I’ll freeze. I cannot do this forever.

I look into the scum-topped pool to see if there are any tools or items that might help my climb. If I had a rope, I could hammer in pitons, assuming I also found those. At this point I’d consider trying to climb with a rusty screwdriver. Nothing.

The way out, the answers, are all up there. I need to get up there desperately. I need answers, and maybe a little justice. The need is like a fire.

That fire burns through me as the monster wakes up again. My breath hisses through clenched teeth as I collapse, fighting the waves of pain. Then the convulsions take me as my muscles catch fire, and the skin on my fingers splits open. I don’t really know how long I lie on the rocky floor, convulsing and screaming. I do know that when it’s over, I am a changed man. Literally.

I feel even lighter in the low gravity, as if I weigh nothing at all now. My hands are rough, like the world’s heaviest callouses. Are those claws coming out of my hands?

What the hell is happening to me? What am I becoming? The monster struggles, trying to warp me and take me over. The struggle is primal; my will and sense of humanity against the ravening will of the thing. Bit by bit, I force it back down. I am a man, not that thing. I look at the claws on my hands. A man.

I have to get out of this place and find out what they did to me.

I leap at the shaft again. Now, my jump carries me way up, and the rock walls coast by. Once I hit the wall, I reach out for a grip and easily find it. My claws dig into the slightest cracks and fissures in the wall, and my rough hands easily hold fast to the stone. Matching talons on my feet secure me below. I find I can easily climb upward, and the scores of meters of rock seem to fly past as I rise. I’m not even winded when I reach the top.

Soon, I’m under the metal hatch. It’s a simple metal pressure door like those found in thousands of tunnels all over Luna and the asteroids. Excess air pressure from either side will seal it, and a simple wheel mechanism locks it.

I try the hatch. Locked, of course. The interface is a square of black plastic on the side of the wheel. I remember these. It appears that a simple code signal is transmitted to the locking mechanism, likely a magnetic latch that engages the rim. I’d need a code breaker to link in and get through, and an interface device, and a scrambler to interrupt any alarm that would generate. I don’t have any of those.

So, I wait, hanging by the hatch, listening to the rumble of machinery above me and waiting for an opportunity.

Soon, one comes. I hear an elevator descend, and someone begins to walk about on the floor above. He’s alone. Good. I become as still as stone.

He takes his time moving about. Moving heavy objects, opening and closing hatches, and going from room to room. Pretty soon, he is above me, heading toward the hatch, dragging something heavy.

The hatch opens, flooding the tunnel with blinding light.

* * * * *

Chapter 6

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The light blasting into the tunnel instantly destroys my night vision. I see only glaring white. It does not matter. I can still hear and feel the air move across my skin.

The man drops a body into the pit. As it falls, I can smell the dead flesh and hear no breath or heartbeat. Long dead then. Too late to do any good for that one.

I grab the man’s hand, feeling the coarse weave of the gloves. He’s in one of those spacesuits I remember from my nightmare. He yells in surprise and tries to pull back, but his Lunar muscles are no match for my grip, and I easily pull him into the shaft.

Still holding on, I slam him into the side of the tunnel and hear his breath exhale from the impact, but he’s still struggling. In the low gravity, I swing him back up through the hatch. Then I follow, kicking off of the rock wall to jump into the room above.

The other man lands first, crashing into a shelf of canisters that fall in slow motion. Rolling to my feet, I hear him beginning to stand, breathing hard through his mask. I pivot and deliver a hard back kick to his face. My foot connects solidly, and the force of the blow smashes his face against the hard faceplate. I rotate back to a guard position as he collapses in slow motion. After a couple of breaths, it’s clear he is not getting up.

My eyes adjust, and I can actually see what is around me. The light is a stark violet-white; likely some kind of UV-heavy disinfectant emitters. That also explains the heavy chemical scent up here, to catch and kill any stray bugs. What the hell is this place?

Along the walls are two other hatches, including the one he came through. The floor, walls, and ceiling are all polished metal with a hardened coating. Metal shelving stocked with canisters lines the walls. There are a few lockers, and a small robotic cargo cart that he used to carry the body. My breath steams in the cold; I need to get some kind of covering soon.

I waste little time stripping the fallen man out of his spacesuit and white coveralls underneath. He looks like a lot of Lunars—tall, thin, and pale, with hair cropped short—just add a broken nose. He’s taller and thinner than I am, but the baggy coveralls and spacesuit fit just fine. I wipe the blood off the diamond faceplate. The air hisses as I seal the suit. Now, whatever horrible thing I might have in me won’t spread when I leave.

I find some medical adhesive tape in one of the lockers, and it bonds to his skin as I tie him up. Some disinfectant from one of the canisters splashed across his broken nose wakes him up.

He starts to yell, and I hold my hand up. Quiet. He’s scared, eyes darting around the room.

I’ve got so many questions, but not much time. I’ll have to stick with the basics—how to get out of here. Look, I’m going to assume there’s a chance you are not one of the monsters torturing and killing people here. I’m going to ask you questions, and I’ll get answers, and you’ll live.

He glares back sullenly.

I need to know the codes to get out the doors and activate the elevators, I say, trying to be patient.

Still nothing; he’s stalling for time.

I don’t have time. Alright then, I’m going to assume you’re one of the scum up there working people over. He struggles as I pick him up, but a punch to the gut quiets him down. Then he starts to squirm again as I hold him over the open hatch and the pit below.

I don’t have time to waste on murdering scum like you, I say as I dangle him by one arm. Tell me the codes, or you can join your victims below. I give him a few shakes.

That does it. I get the passwords and codes out of him. Hopefully, none of it is biometric, or I’m screwed. Still, these guys walk around in spacesuits, so I should have a little while before I’m recognized.

Yes, I was tempted to drop him down the hole anyway. Instead, I get medical tape and swabs to close off his pie hole, and I shove him in a locker with a bar through the handle. His buddies can fetch him later.

By the way, I say to the locker, I’ll be back if these codes don’t work. I hear a muttering from the locker. Any second thoughts? No response. OK, then.

Jacobs the patch on the suit says. So, it looks like I’ll be Jacobs.

Time to go. I throw open the hatch he came from.

* * * * *

Chapter 7

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I walk through a nightmare land of horrors.

I come to a room of frozen dead. Past frosted windows are the frozen horrors of what once were human beings. Warped and deformed, with extra limbs, segmented carapaces, strange eyes and hideous openings, all dripping with the black goop from my dreams. One figure was in the process of splitting in half, or was it two different people merging? Others are warped chimera, with weird mergings of everything in the animal kingdom and then some. What kind of Hell is this? Is this going to happen to me?

I find a room of human organs