Sun Squad – Yuppers

Stuck in a stutter
Fear the fallen utter
Nonsense in senseless death

– The Coming of the Condemned

In the black of space, a ship fell quiet. About fifteen minutes before the sounds of shouting, running, slamming, and gunfire echoed along the hull.

I hid shamelessly. I technically passed basic combat training some ten years before flying into the black to study and never used it since. As a scientist, I didn’t even carry a stun gun.

I’d heard of pirates out in the black. People figure the law won’t find you if you fly far enough. Those people live by plundering vessels and leaving them stranded. I thought we’d been raided, so I’d just lay low until they took all of our supplies and left.

I thought it was pirates before the silence. The silence didn’t make sense.

Then a murmur started. It echoed and vibrated across the hull. It was the sound of a house fly from Earth, circling around. As the sound grew louder, I thought of a hornet’s nest. I moved towards the sound, thinking of investigating, thinking there might be a mechanical failure. I froze when I detected a human quality to the sound. It was like a word being stuttered on the same syllable over and over. Maybe it was a recording the ship’s computer was accidentally playing back, caught in a loop. Maybe there was a system failure. I backed up again, trying to be patient, resigning to wait hidden in my lab.

It wasn’t long before I grew restless again, the unnerving noise echoing around the corridors. What if it everyone was evacuated? What if I’m the only one left here? With the systems failure, heat would deplete along with the oxygen, and I knew I’d freeze before I suffocated. I’d die alone because I was a coward.

I couldn’t sit still. Maybe I could fix it. I turned away from the corridor I’d seriously considered going into and went back into my lab. I sat at a terminal easily, even in the dark I knew my lab, my home.

There was no power. How could the computer system be making those noises without power? Was only this terminal down? What about the backup systems?

I reached under and pulled off a large panel, exposing the wiring. I crawled my way in about a half of a foot to find the connections for power and flipped a switch to manually engage the backup power systems. My terminal switched on.

From the new light I could see vague shapes coming from the corridor I was standing in before. I stood and inched forward. The shapes were moving in the same stutter of the buzzing noise. The shapes looked like human figures, but the movement were jerking and repeating.

As I began to see it clearer it was like a stiff dance, forward a half step, back a half, forward a full two, back another half step… It seemed robotic, but their faces were getting close enough to make out in the dim light.

Their vacant eyes were wide and blinking in the same stuttering cadence. I recognized some of them. It was the crew and not one of them looked alive.

Single file in their eerie march they came forward, not responding to anything I said. Their minds were gone or being controlled. I looked around my lab to hide. That was the only exit. I squeezed myself into the panel with the wires in desperation. Under and inside the terminal, I pulled the panel back on after me. With their vacant stares, unseeing and unintelligent, I was hoping that they wouldn’t be able to pry the panel off.

By some luck I was right, but they didn’t leave. They mill about outside stuttering, day and night without rest. I don’t know how long I’ve been in here any more. The background noise blurs together in a meaningless cacophony. It’s possible I’ve gone mad.

If I’m still sane, someone still might find this terminal I’m tapping into from the inside out. Someone might download this log and make some sense of it.

If I weren’t facing a slow death, madness, or whatever malady has befallen my crew mates, this might have been funny. Sometimes the sound is like “yup yup yup” as if they are agreeing with me.

Doomed, “Yup yup yup,” They agree.

I know the crew is either dead or one of those things outside. I won’t leave. Whatever my fate, I won’t become one of them.

This passage comes from a recording on one of the first ships that were found. It is the first recorded encounter with The Condemned. Though the ship was also found contaminated with Type Two and Type Three Condemned, it appears that in a single case one of the crew was able to avoid immediate detection and transformation.

There was a decomposed body found in the panel below the terminal. The cause of death appeared to be self inflicted electrocution. From the estimated time of death, the woman would have long since died of dehydration, and leaving would have surely resulted in her joining her crew as one of the Type One Condemned.

From here on the Type One were known as Yuppers in reference to her log. Though suspected, this allowed us to discover that Yuppers are attracted to noise and sound, but are unable to reason or perform motor functions other than moving towards its source.


– Compendium of The Condemned

Dreams: Secret Agent Full Contact Bowling

I started telling Rory Blyth, the smartest man in the world, about this dream in an email. I decided just to go ahead and write out the whole thing (as much as I could remember) and post it.

I’m tired. I’ve been going through a period of intense dreaming. It goes in cycles. Like always, I’ll eventually go back to more manageable dreaming. Until then…
– – – – –

I get a video emailed to me. It’s my boyfriend (in the dream) and he’s breaking up with me. In the video he has a laundry list of reasons, one of which is that he feels like we’re not really together anyways. I’m pretty angry as most of the things he lists he’s just as, if not more guilty than me. I try not to worry about it. I’m at a social gathering, trying to have fun but failing. I’m periodically checking my laptop for emails, from the higher-ups or a follow up to the video, though I tell myself I’m not.

I get a new assignment at the top secret government agency I work for. I’m used to moving often, but this time headquarters says I’ll likely be stationed here for the long haul. It’s with one of their active locations. At first I’m very flattered, as it’s a big promotion. Then I hear where it is and I want to scream. It’s where my ex, Raymond, works.

The base is a nondescript up-scale country home outside of the city. There’s a bench swing on the porch next to a large maple tree that over-hangs the house. A small garden lines the perimeter of the house. It looks innocent and homey. My ex is outside in dark shades, his hands stuck in his jean pockets. He’s tall and skinny as a beanpole with strait, long blond hair tied back in a ponytail. He looks like his skin hasn’t seen the sun in ages, and the shades in the early morning light testify to it. He grins at me as if all in the world is right and gives me a hug. It’s a nervous gesture. He obviously just found out I was coming.

He leads me into the house. A large-eyed woman sits at a baby-grand piano in the front hall looking at sheet music. She looks up and smiles slightly, tight lipped and goes back to scanning music. Her short hair is auburn and so is her lipstick. Her nose is small and slightly turned up and her skin almost albino. Her name is Lily. Jack is the boss and he shakes my hand as I reach the end of the foyer. He’s a tightly packaged and his sentences are the same. He’s a dark fellow in contrast to the other two. All business, hetakes over the tour. I learn that us four are the field team and the rest are in house operatives. We have a mission come nightfall. I’m told to be discreet unlike most “contract-cases”, as he calls people like me who move around a lot. He says I can’t just leave if things get screwed up. I need to play my cover well and carry out each job neat and quick. I need to learn to work with a team. He says he knows I’ve worked mainly solo, but HQ thinks I can make the adjustment. I agree with him, but internally I groan.

After the mission and cover debriefing, there’s a lot of time to kill. I wish I had stuff to move in to keep me busy, but all I have a two bags: clothes, hygienic implements, a few personal items, and my laptop. My new room is like a closet. All it has is a bed and a window. I can’t stay in there long. I start to get claustrophobic. So I have to venture out.

I meet some of the in house operatives- techs mostly. One of them in particular is eager to introduce himself to me. He’s short and squat, but that’s where the stereotypical computer geek ends. He’s got a black cap on backwards and a well kept goatee, clear, friendly face. He’s obviously the social type. His name is Ryan, and he’s heard a bunch about my through my ex. I can’t keep the groan internal. He gives me a summary of everyone that works in what everyone refers to as ‘the house’ (it’s easier to cover that way). I politely nod, but it’s too much information to store on top of all the important mission stuff. I’m almost not listening by the time he gets to describing Lily. Ryan tells me not to be jealous of her and I blink at him. He wisely moves on as quickly (as quickly as my ex had apparently).

Everyone starts letting loose by midday. Since work happens at night, daytime before a mission allows a bit of recreation time.

I venture outside and sit in the field in the back of the house, by a car. Sure enough, my ex follows me out. I expect things to be awkward, but we talk easy and start catching up. He’s talking fast and animatedly about anything and everything. Before I know it he’s got his arm around me and a combination of habits and hormones start to take hold. We get into the back of the parked car, but I realize it’s a bad idea as soon as I’m in there. I get up to leave but he tells me to wait and just sit with him. So, we do. I drift off to sleep leaning on him.

We are woken up by Lily and Jack coming out to the car to start the mission. Jack thinks we beat everyone, getting ready and to the car quickly. He congratulates us. I smirk at Ray who shrugs and puts his shades on.

We track the tagged in the car with what looks like an innocent GPS, but is much more. I’ve tracked down and subdued many of them in my career, but in my own way and with far less people. Jack follows the signal until it stops at an apartment building. He tells us all to get out in the parking lot. It’s then that the trouble starts.

I’m walking with Ray, Jack and Lily bringing up the rear, and next thing I know, fire is coming at us from the front. Ray drops to the ground too close to the flames and I drag him away. We get to the car, but we can’t go back to the house. If we’re followed, we can’t compromise anything. We go down a bunch of side streets and drive around the back of an elementary school. We go in an empty auditorium to regroup. The adrenaline starts to wear off and my face stings really bad. I reach up to touch it and a piece of my face cracks and is rubbed off onto my finger in a bloody mess. I feel my face ooze where I touch it. I go to the bathroom and do what I can with a medkit, but the whole lower right side of my face is cooked meat and there is a big gash on my forehead. I know it will be an easy fix at HQ, but for now it hurts like hell and I’m having a hard time doing it myself. I decide to go to the elementary school’s nurses office for some pain killers.

I open up the office and a man is in a stretcher minus two legs. Two nurses are hovered above him. They ask me what I want. I see the severity of this poor guy’s situation, but I am a bit taken aback that they don’t seem as concerned about my face as I. One of them gets really snotty, the other takes me into another room and pretends to care. She is trying to be sympathetic but asks what I expect her to do. She says she’s not allowed to give me any pain killers because I’m on duty. She says she can’t graft my face because they don’t have the time. Go figure.

Ray finds me and helps dress it a little better. He tries to be gentle but makes it hurt quite a bit. I try not to show it and joke by saying, “That’s what I get for not wearing any sunblock, huh?”

The operation is compromised, so we’re done for the night. The tagged one is probably half way to Mexico by now. I have to tend to my cover.

My cover is that I’m part of all women extreme bowling team. The city just happens to be the capital of this sport and its home team the best. As an expert player, I just got bought by the team. In this version of bowling, a person actually stands in front of the pins and uses their body to block the ball. There are rules for how one can and can’t do this. One woman I faced was really mean and cheating. She was a petite blonde, fair chick that had a bowling ball sized chest. She blocking bowling balls coming at her by doing splits and staying that way for too long. This is called holding in the game and is illegal. Before me my team mate, Steph, faced her. Steph is an immigrant from Paraguay and in the top of her game. She got all of her balls by the other team’s blocker, but there were still three pins standing. Considering how good the other team’s blocker was at cheating, this was impressive. The blocker continued to play dirty when I got up. I botched the first two balls, and she finally got a penalty called on her. I got pissed and threw a ball at her head and she caught it and threw it at me- I caught it. This too is illegal and we both had penalties called on us. The rest of the game was uneventful. Afterwards Ray and Ryan came over. Apparently they’d watched the whole game from the stands and think the sport is great. The other team’s blocker came over to congratulate us. I was surprised. I started talking to her and found her name was Chiran out she was an immigrant from Korea and winning meant a lot to her. I stood my ground and told her it was no excuse for being a bitch. She told me I was right and asked me if I wanted to hang out. So we made up and hugged. Ray made some suggestions on what we should be doing while hugging for his entertainment- especially with each other’s ‘bowling balls’. Ryan thought it was hilarious. I rolled my eyes.

Back at the house, Ray told me he was really thankful for what I did for him out in the field and he was sorry for the video. He said he’s been going through a rough spot and was very drunk. I tell him not to worry about it and that we were friends. He looks disappointed, and then kisses me before I can react. I look over and see Lily hovering nearby. I’m pissed and go off on him about how it’s not right.

“But she’s my sister…”

Confused.

“I thought she was your new girlfriend.”

Ray looked a bit sheepish, “Ryan kind of planted that idea to see if you would get jealous. It was his idea, but I wanted to see if you still had feelings for me.”

I shook my head, “You dumbass. You would have known the answer to that sooner if you didn’t make me think you had a girlfriend.”