Corporal Shishone, Corporal Yarns, and Director Yu bounced on the surface of Sedna in long leaps. An ocean of crimson in the dark, with layers of waves of red vine and tendril, some thick as pylons, some thin as hair, the vine stretched across the surface. It crunched beneath their boots, and at times, they sunk down into it, needing help from the others to free themselves. It was ghostly and haunting here beneath the beautifully painted sky of the Milky Way. The silence accompanied them, the scarlet vine too, and every once in a while, one of the things would shamble away in the darkness. They did their best to avoid these once-people.

  “Where is this thing?” Yarns asked over the shortwave.

  “Up here,” Shishone said, looking at his PDA and pointing ahead. Thomas had uploaded a map onto it, downloaded from the low-powered servers within the control room. A small mound rose ahead of them, and from it jutted a large tube covered in the tholin vines.

  Yu squinted to look at it. “I think that’s the telescope,” she said.

  Shishone and Yarns both looked at it, examining what they were seeing, before Shishone said, “I think so too. There has to be an emergency hatch around here somewhere, then. Map shows it should lead into a storage closet that’s attached to the telescopic center.”

  “They sure do like putting these things in storage closets,” Yarns said.

  Yu spoke: “It’s procedure. These storage areas are built thick like bunkers, even in the rest of the Belt.”

  Shishone ignored them and slung his rifle over his shoulder. Then, he began to kick at the vine, trying to clear it from the top of the structure. Yarns, noticing, started to do the same, kicking away the tendrils and stomping them down. They could make out markings on the building soon, yellow caution lines, electrical panels covered in red dust, and even a topside window after a while. Here, Shishone paused, bending down and brushing away the dust to look inside.

  It appeared to be looking into the hallway that lead to the telescope proper. Shining his light into the hall, ominous shadows casting off of the walls and tholins within, he could see the door. Sure enough, it was welded shut down the center, where it should’ve been able to gracefully split apart. The tholins were thick here, dusty and layered, and the vines thick as well, all piled up against the door. There was no getting into this room without an alternate entrance, this much was certain.

  Just then, Yu called over the radio, “Got it!”

  Shishone jerked to his feet, and he and Yarns bounded over to where she stood, on the other side of the telescope. As they approached, Shishone could see the telescope in its glory: large, complex, with multiple rungs, it stood higher than him by ten or twelve feet, angled into the darkness of space.

  He went past it, and met up with Yu and Yarns on the other side, where Yu was kicking away more of the vines. Then, she bent down and started brushing away the dust left behind, revealing a small hatch, surrounded by red caution tape painted onto the metal, which housed a small handle in on the edge.

  “This has to be it,” she said, standing up again and dusting herself off.

  Shishone bent down and grabbed the handle, giving it a yank. It didn’t budge.

  “Yarns, come help me.”

  Yarns came up and bent down, gripping the handle with Shishone, and together, they gave it a mighty yank, pulling, pulling it up, and soon, it reluctantly began to yawn open. They grabbed underneath its thick plug-like base and pushed it up, letting it then slowly fall to the ground with a puff of dust. Shishone peered inside.

  It was dark, below, but he could make out a ladder that led down the side of a wall, leading up to where the hatch was. Beyond that, all he could see was darkness.

  “Down the hatch?” he said, looking at the others.

  Yu nodded, and said, “I’ll go first.”

  “Don’t you think one of us should?”

  “Why?” she asked. “You don’t think I can handle myself?”

  Shishone shrugged. “We’re just the ones with the big guns,” he said, patting his rifle on his back. “I’ll go first, then you, then Yarns, to cover the rear.”

  Yu huffed. “Alright.”

  With that, Shishone sat on the edge of the hatch’s opening, and began making his way down the ladder. He found himself in the storage closet, which was more like an adjacent room, filled with shelves of parts, electronics, lenses, and of course, mops and buckets. He pulled out his rifle and looked around, but, finding it clear, said, “Alright Yu, come on.”

  Yu followed down the ladder, leaping off of it and gently touching down in the closet, before Yarns did the same. Once they were all down, Yarns asked, looking to the hatch, “Should we close that?”

  Shishone shook his head. “No, we might need a quick out. They clearly didn’t want people getting in here.”

  “Or maybe,” Yu said as she observed her surroundings, “they didn’t want something to get out.”

  He shuddered and gripped his rifle tighter. “Either way, I get the feeling we’re about to find out.”

  Taking point, Shishone made his way through the dusty room, motioning for the others to follow. They wove through the metal shelves in silence, reaching the door to the main telescope center, where Shishone held his hand up in a signal for them to wait. They did, taking position on the wall beside him, as he reached down and grabbed the handle on the door.

  Then, he slowly pulled it open, shining his light and pointing his rifle into the room.

  The room was a large circular room with two levels, the upper level a ring around the open lower level. The large stem of the telescope jutted down from the ceiling to the center of the lower floor, draped in vines. Computer terminals lined the walls, screens, switchboards, recording equipment, all dark. On the walls themselves were sigils and letters – at least, he assumed – written in a script he’d never seen before. The writing was everywhere, written in permanent marker, up and down the wall, left and right, hastily scribbled in points and eloquently crafted in others. Everywhere. The writing was everywhere.

  But what really held his gaze, what sent shocks of ice through his gut, lay before him attached to the telescope’s viewport.

  It… looked like it was once a person. Whatever it was now was incomprehensibly foreign, but it had the appearance of what perhaps was once human. Two legs, seated in the telescope chair, two arms clutching the telescope’s dials, a torso, a head, but out of its back poured the tholin vines like a budding corpse flower, spreading throughout the room, up the walls, across the electronics, over various decaying bodies. It was as if the man’s back had blossomed into tholins. The corpse, if it could still be called that, was dressed in a white, tattered jumpsuit that caught Shishone’s light. A researcher, he determined. At one time, at least.

  Noticing his stillness, Yu peered through the door, saying, “What is it?”

  Then, she saw it, and froze too.

  Yarns, growing curious now, did the same, and was struck by how horrific the scene was. They all stood there for a moment, taking it in, the draping vines, the desecrated, desiccated corpse, the writing, all only caught by flashes of their lights in the otherwise pitch black room.

  Shishone swallowed, trying to shake it off.

  Are you scared, asked the voice.

  He grunted, and shivered, knocking the fog loose from his mind. “Come on,” he said, mustering the remainder of his courage from deep within him.

  He stepped into the room. There was a stillness here. Every step he took kicked tholin dust into the air beneath him, but besides that, there was only silence and quiet. Yu followed him in, and then Yarns.

  “What are we looking for here?” Yarns asked, white knuckling his rifle.

  Yu, approaching the flowered corpse, said, “I want to know what happened to this man.”

  “Yarns,” Shishone said. “Take a look around for any PDA’s that might still be functional. The sooner we get some answers here, the sooner we can leave.”

  That sounded really good, Yarns decided, and so he started to scour the room for PDA’s, looking on desks, on terminals, beneath the vines. Shishone then began to do a sweep of the area, as Yu prodded the corpse. She poked at the vines spouting from its back, and found them thicker and more hardy than the rest of the tholin vines on Sedna. They were muscled, and sturdy. Then, she pried the body’s head up from its rest on the telescope’s viewport, to get a better look at it.

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  When she did so, however, its left eye opened and stabbed a glare at her, bloodshot and glossy. She screamed and backed away as the thing sat up. Shishone jerked around, aiming his rifle at the center of the room, watching the thing as it began to unnaturally writhe. Yarns, on the stairs now, did the same. The thing’s head flopped back for a moment, before it slowly rose to look at them with its one open eye. The could fully see its face now. The left half was flesh, and the right half was dust and vine. Through its eye, Yu could see pain, fear, and anger.

  It stared at them for a moment, seemingly lost, before, from the corner of its mouth, it began to mutter.

  “Kshula,” it said, its voice raspy, dry, strained and dead. “Kshula wort.”

  “Awh what the fuck,” Shishone muttered, lowering his rifle slightly.

  Yu looked at him, then to Yarns, who was training his rifle at the thing, finger slowly curling around the trigger. “Don’t shoot!” she cried. “Not yet. Let it speak.”

  The thing looked at Yu intensely. “Kshula heptisha wort.”

  “Let’s kill this thing,” Shishone said, raising his weapon once more. “I don’t like it.”

  “No,” Yu said, crouching a bit and stepping forward. “It’s trying to communicate.”

  She pulled out her PDA and began recording, creeping near the undead thing.

  It looked at her PDA with a spark of recognition that was there, and then gone as fast as it had come. Again, it spoke. “Wort martori’a keptamin Kshula,” it said, seemingly becoming agitated. It sat up straighter, grimacing. “Kshula heptisha Allister! Kshula wort!”

  “Did it just say ‘Allister’?” Shishone asked, hands beginning to shake. This was unnatural, unholy even. “How the fuck is it talking in a vacuum?”

  Yu looked at him and held up a finger to her helmet, shushing him. Then, she turned back to the corpse, observing it.

  It groaned a low, disturbing, gravelly growl. “Kshula wort! Kshula heptisha Allister, Kshula wort!”

  It seemed angry now, and the tendrils flowing from its back began to writhe and move all across the room. Its tone fell thick with disgust and contempt. It growled, then screamed a desperate, painful scream, thrashing about. “Kshula wort he heptisha Allister, Allister martori’a Kshula!”

  Yu swallowed, frozen as the vines began to lash at the walls, the switchboards, the electronics in thunderous cracks.

  “Kshula wort! Kshula wort!”

  “Move!” Shishone cried, snapping Yu from her daze. She leapt out of the way, and Shishone opened fire on the monstrous thing, laying several bullets into it. It cried out seemingly in two voices at once as it absorbed the bullets, shaking and writhing. Soon, though, after an entire magazine had been dumped into it, Shishone tossing the empty mag and loading another one, it fell silent, slumping on the viewport, before rolling off and falling to the floor, finally, truly dead. At least, they hoped.

  They all stood there, breathing heavily, especially Shishone. He lowered his rifle, walking up to the thing and kicking it to ensure it was actually gone. When it didn’t respond, and the vines had stopped wriggling, he let himself breathe out a long sigh. Then, he turned to Yu.

  “What. The fuck. Was that?”

  “I think,” said Yu, carefully, “that was the reason they welded the doors shut.”

  “I found a PDA!” Yarns shouted, rushing down the stairs with a small device in his hand.

  Shishone and Yu met him as he reached the base of the stairs, and Yu took the device from him. She examined it for a port, before plugging it into her PDA and downloading the data. “This’ll take a moment,” she said, setting both devices down on a desk to her left.

  Yarns still shook. “That thing said Allister’s name.”

  Yu shot him a look, and then nodded coldly. “It did. We do not tell her this, though. The woman has enough on her plate.”

  “But…”

  “No,” she said. “The poor girl has been through enough.”

  Shishone, examining the unholy corpse’s jumpsuit, found another PDA in its pocket. “I’ve got something here too,” he said, standing up. “I’ll plug it into mine.”

  He did so, and set it down on a desk as well, before saying, “Now what?”

  The telescope, the voice said.

  Shishone jerked uncontrollably, before regaining his composure. Yu cast him a wary glance. “Are you okay?”

  He turned and sat in one of the chairs by the desk, before leaning back, letting his head dip backwards. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s just been a lot.”

  Cautiously, Yu turned from him, facing Yarns. “Did you find anything else up there?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Just… more bodies.”

  Yu let her gaze fall solemnly. “I see.”

  On her PDA, a small blue light blinked. She walked over to it, and unplugged it from the other, raising it to examine whatever it had downloaded. It seemed to have taken some audio logs and telescopic data from the PDA, and so she started there.

  Scrolling through, she found something that made her eyes go wide. “Oh… oh I see,” she muttered.

  Shishone sat up. “What?”

  She turned and waved them in. Shishone stood and approached as Yarns huddled around the PDA, and together they all looked at the data. It was coordinates, with a message attached as an addendum. The message read:

  We’ve discovered a potential gravitational anomaly at these coordinates. Contacted Commander Yuri, who sent a communication tightbeam to Commander Xiao. We’ve been ordered to keep these coordinates – supposing we find anything there – a secret. Thus these are classified TC-ATS//FOUO.

  Doctor Prahizin suggest we search in the area with the telescope, but I have a weird feeling about this. If our readings are correct, this anomaly could be several times more massive than Sedna. I don’t like this. Will reach out to Commander Yuri soon for further instructions.

  -Micheal Jolens, Astronomy Unit

  Yu, after finishing reading, said, “There’s also an uncorrupted email correspondence here.” She clicked on it, opening a chain of three emails between what appeared to be two members of the Astronomy Unit of Sedna.

  The first one read:

  Micheal,

  How goes the hunting? The idea of a planetary gravitational anomaly is exciting to say the least! It could be the ninth planet, proposed by Brown and Batygin over a century ago! The implications are enormous. I eagerly await your response on this matter. As you know, I’ve been sick, so it weighs heavily on my heart that I cannot be there to aid in your affairs, but I believe in you and the team! Keep me updated.

  -Nickolas Hvginski, Astronomy Unit

  Shishone cocked his head. “There really is a ninth planet.”

  “Looks like they found something big,” Yu said, reading eagerly, thirstily. “Let’s keep going.”

  The next message said:

  Nickolas,

  It is true that this may be the ninth planet. It would explain the clustering of KPO’s we see, as well as Sedna’s orbit. While it is an exciting prospect, I urge you to temper your expectations. I’m not sure we will find it anytime soon, despite our looking, as the coordinates are approximations. Still, I will certainly keep you updated.

  I should say, I don’t like this. Something feels off to me, but you know me. Anxiety is my forte. I hope you recover from your illness soon, and that you can rejoin us. Your expertise would be invaluable at this time. Take care friend. See you soon.

  -Micheal Jolens, Astronomy Unit

  Yu scrolled down to the third email.

  Micheal,

  Don’t let your anxiety get to you friend! We are on the verge of a major breakthrough here! Our names will be on the forefront of newspapers and news cycles all throughout the Solar System. The Eris Daily will hail us as astronomic heroes! I understand you worry, but believe me, there is nothing to be concerned about – unless you are afraid of fame!

  I will see you shortly, friend. Good hunting.

  -Nickolas Hvginski, Astronomy Unit

  Yu lowered the PDA, and stared off into space for a moment. Her voice soft, weak, she said, “They found something.”

  “Whatever it is,” Shishone said, motioning to the carnage around them, “I’d rather not find out.”

  Yarns nodded in agreement.

  Just then, Shishone’s PDA blinked blue as well, and he walked over to the desk and picked it up, Yu and Yarns following. Unplugging it, he pulled up the data, finding a lonely voice log and nothing more, the rest of the data being far too corrupted to be read. His thumb hovered over the file, hesitating.

  Yu nudged him. “Play it.”

  He swallowed, and, plugging in his cord to his suit, he pressed down on the pad, playing the log through his and their helmets.

  “This is head astronomer Phillip Mackenzie, of the Astronomy Unit of Sedna Base. Recording time zero-eight-hundred, Earth date 2234, seventh of October. We are close to discovering what is at the center of the gravitational anomaly discovered on the twelfth of September. Zeroing in the telescope now. I must say, it’s incredibly exciting to be at the forefront of this breakthrough discovery. In mere moments, we will discover what is at the heart of the orbit of multiple Kuiper Belt Objects, including Sedna.

  “I’ve worked for years to reach this moment. Zeroing in now… and I’m taking a look, and… and… by the gods. It’s beautiful. It’s, my sweet god, it’s incredible, I can see it. I can see it! It’s here, it’s here! It’s beautiful, powerful, sweet, and –”

  Then the man let loose a visceral scream, and the voice log cut.

  They all looked at each other, and then to the telescope.

  “What do you think they found?” Shishone asked.

  Yu folded her arms and thought for a moment. “Whatever it was, I get the feeling that it was the cause of all of this.”

  Go look, said the voices.

  Something inside of Shishone, some curiosity, ignited. He found he wanted to look now. And it was strong, too, urging him on as though he couldn’t control himself. He fought it inside of himself, but found himself staring at the telescope. He couldn’t. Shouldn’t. But, maybe… maybe one peek wouldn’t hurt.

  “Should we see?” he asked, stepping toward the telescope.

  Yu looked at him with a serious, puzzled glare, and then shot one to Yarns. “No, we absolutely should not,” she said, placing a hand on Shishone’s shoulder to stop him. “That’s insane.”

  “Why not?” he asked, looking back at her.

  Why not indeed.

  A sudden pang of pain cracked through his head like lightning causing him to nearly double over. He barely maintained his composure, and the curiosity returned, stronger than ever. “Just one look,” he said. “It won’t hurt anything.”

  Yarns stepped between him and the telescope. “Shishone, I can’t let you do that.”

  “Get out of my way Yarns,” he said in a low growl. “I need to see.”

  Yu chimed in, “We should get out of here. I feel like we have enough to go on, we should meet up with the others.”

  Though Shishone couldn’t see through Yarns’ visor, he could sense the serious, nervous stare as their lines of sight met.

  “Shishone, come on,” he said, turning and making his way for the door to the storage room. Shishone watched him go, feeling Yu’s hand on his shoulder.

  Just one.

  Shivering, he felt sick, like he might hurl.

  Just one little look. See what they saw. Find your answers.

  “Come on Shishone,” Yu said, letting him go. “We need to go.”

  She started toward the door too, leaving him to cast one last look at the telescope. The desire to look through it was strong, incredibly so. The curiosity, the need was there, and within him, he struggled to contain it.

  “Shishone?” Yu said, standing in the threshold to the storage room.

  He blinked, and looked to her as though she were a stranger. Then, he looked to the telescope. He had a choice to make. He could look, find answers, which might help them in the long run. He could know, see for himself. Or… or he could listen to the people who had become his friends. He could trust them. And he could leave.

  Squeezing his eyes shut, he shook his head violently, trying to knock the voice out of his mind. It was there, it was strong, but he was Corporal Joshua Shishone, and he was stronger than that. Swallowing his emotion, he stood up tall, slung his rifle over his back, and turned to head to the door, the curiosity in his mind being supplanted by thoughts of Mars. Of Penelopi. Of Tay.

  Of home, and the things he still had to live for.

  Together, they left the telescope center, and began to bound their way back to the control center of Sedna.