Still Not Funny

I was sued.

I was in good company there as the Na'Dar, the college, and Dave's parents were also sued. I'm surprised Janet's parents didn't sue the mobcomm providers for our not having a signal to call for help. I was also 'sued' by one of the survivors for emotional distress but that turned out to be a joke. Not terribly funny at the time. It's funnier to me not by not by much.

All this combined to make the past few months some of the least fun of my life. There was a lengthy criminal investigation. Eventually I was cleared of any wrongdoing. The civil lawsuits still hangs over my head but I understand that there has been a payment offered by the Na'Dar, sort of a 'we're sorry our old equipment killed your family member' sort of thing and payment is contingent on all the lawsuits being dropped. The family's bargaining for more money feels a bit crass to me. Its their right and they have to do what seems best to them but I don't know.

The size of my intern pool was trimmed by management so I get to do more with less. I am not particularly enjoying doing more with less. I get to do a lot more work for the same amount of pay, regularly staying late just to try to keep up. We never manage to keep up.

Making things more complicated is the fact that I lost most of my previous interns. Some were graduating and done anyways. A number quit due to my troubles; whether it was their decision or their parents is less important than the fact that the decision was made and acted upon. The up side to this was that I didn't have to fire anyone to reach my new staffing levels. On the down side I had to train more new people than expected. This took time and patience and rework to fix problems that weren't fixed properly the first time. This is not conducive to keeping up or maintaining good relationships with the other departments.

My team was destroyed. My peers, and I use that term very loosely, that had decided to not like me already took this opportunity to further align against me. They remained polite to my face and within meetings but fought me and abused me within that realm of politeness. My opinions were ignored or, worse, dismissed with a jibe about the other times when my 'opinion' had cost others. This was all very amusing to them. Not so to me.

Thankfully, policy and procedure were on my side, so Cuthbold could defend me. I had only been accused of things, never convicted, so my job was secure. Had I been convicted, I would have been fired but I wasn't. While the Na'Dar's 'assistance' may not have been officially welcomed due to the stigma associated with the... event, behind the scenes I'm told that all will be well if the lawsuits just go away. I don't think I have much to worry in that regard.

Into the Fallout

Have you ever been around someone that died unexpectedly? People have questions. They want to know details. What happened, in what order, what you did in response, why did you respond in that way, and on and on. Everything you did is double and triple checked. People who weren't there and may not understand the situation you were in have opinions about what you did or should have done. I've often heard that hindsight is 20/20. The reaction of some people to what happened around that cabin last summer proves that to be true. Worse yet is that some people seem to be of the impression that I should somehow have had access to this hindsight at the time and saved everyone. Most of the people with this opinion have been parents.

I was in charge, they like to remind me, shouldn't I have done more? How dare I let their child be killed? Why didn't I figure it out sooner? How did I not magically walk into the cabin and know that someone had found a buried spaceship and accidentally activated the defense mechanism? All the questions that haunt my head are spat at me by strangers. Somehow, in not succeeding more, I became the villain to some.

I try to understand them. They're in pain and need someone to blame. Subconsciously or not, they decided that I was in with the Na'Dar. By my own admission I recognized the ship, knew where to go, and could read the language to some degree. When there was the meeting with the delegates from the Na'Dar embassy, I was recognized and greeted by a Na'Dar gentleman I'd previously met through the college. To someone who's never met a Na'Dar before, perhaps never seen a Na'Dar in person, this must have seemed suspicious.

I can see why these people might have reacted the way they did. That doesn't mean it hurts any less; it just means I can see where they might be coming from.

Yelling

The 'bear' shambled onto the bridge, eyeing us oddly. “This didn't occur to you?” Tina demanded.

“I was busy being excited about the ship. I can't think of everything!” I protested. “If you hadn't kept bothering me, I might have managed to shut it off by now!”

“Is that what you're doing over there?” Dave asked.

“Yes!”

“You can read that?” Tina questioned.

“A little!”

“Why are you yelling?” Dave checked.

“Because I can't concentrate on remembering anything! Slow it down! Give me a moment!” Dave made a noise of derision to respond to my request but I trusted in his ability to defend himself now that he was prepared. I'm not sure why I thought he could do this without getting hurt. I assume our work history led me to that conclusion. Either that or I needed to trust him to do this in order to do what I needed to do so I did. I stared at the console and tried to relax my brain a little, which was not easy.

You're having a conversation with your friends and you start talking about a specific movie. You all enjoyed the movie, talk about it with joy, and mention the lead actress that 'wow'ed you all. None of you can remember her name. It frustrates you particularly because you just saw it and you really should remember it. You work to remember it, you fight to remember it, and the more you push towards it, the further away you feel from remembering. You know that if you stop thinking about the lady's name, it'll come to you. Five minutes later, talking about something else, the name pops into your head, you say it, and everyone relaxes in agreement, glad to have this resolved.

Once I started thinking about not thinking about it, I did my best to continue thinking about not thinking about it so that I wouldn't think about what I was trying to not think about. Thankfully this managed to help. The word for 'defense' suddenly popped into my brain, the fact that the color blue is their 'stop' was suddenly there, I heard a yell from behind me, and I clicked stop.

I turned to see what had been accomplished. The 'bear' froze, flickered, and faded. Left behind was a flying device, about a foot tall, looking a bit like a gray pot wearing an over-sized drum cymbal. A set of claws on an extended arm folded back into the lower 'pot' section, disappearing seamlessly back into the whole. Calmly the device lowered to the floor and the lights under the 'cymbal' went out.

Dave remained frozen in his defensive position for a moment, evidently concerned that the danger was not yet over. Slowly he stood up straight again, keeping his left arm elevated due to the bleeding claw marks damaging it. “Did you shut it off?” he asked.

“I think so.”

Dave scowled. “I'd really feel more comfortable with an answer that was more assured.”

“Sorry. Haven't had a reason to brush up on my Na'Dar recently. I have every reason to believe its shut down.”

Dave nodded. “Good.” Savagely he kicked the defensive mechanism, sending it skittering across the floor and making him hop up and down on the foot he hadn't used to kick it. Once the device stopped moving from the kick, it lit back up and began to rise from the ground. Quickly I hit the button to shut it off again, returning it to the ground. “I thought you said you shut it off!” Dave snapped.

“It's a defensive mechanism. You attacked it and restarted its systems,” I informed. Dave just grunted in reply.

Tina emerged from behind a console, walking directly to Dave. “You okay?” she checked. He grunted in reply and nodded. “Thank you. I totally froze up and you tossed me out of the way. I didn't expect that.”

“That you'd freeze up or that I'd help you,” Dave questioned.

“Both, mostly me freezing up. Not that I didn't think you'd be helpful, just having it happen...” Tina paused. “Thank you.”

Dave just grunted in reply.

Discovery... Creepy Discovery...

The bridge of the ship apparently was largely undamaged. There were dents in the walls and a view-screen that was cracked but the sweeping curves of the design were largely intact. Consoles seemed to naturally flow from walks, seating pods from floors. It looked organic in a shiny metal way. Its beautiful to see, moreso when you're not panicked and in a hurry. “And I thought studying those ship designs were a waste of time,” I muttered. Slowly I walked into the bridge, searching for details of the design from my brain. This ended up leading me to the last piece of the puzzle.

“You found this with ease,” Tina commented, suspicion returning to her voice.

“We've had Na'Dar at the school plenty of times,” I noted. “I know a few things about them.”

“Like the designs of spaceships that are, in your own words, decades old?” she pushed.

“We did pass maps on our way here; I can read a little of their language. And yes.” I had more important things to worry about. “Dave, you've never had problems like this before, have you? No 'weird happening', no disappearing people?” He shook his head. “Okay, so I'm blaming them for what's happened, although I'm guessing it was an accident.” I drew their attention to the figures sprawled out on the floor.

“I thought you said bears couldn't get in here?” Dave questioned.

“Those are costumes,” Tina observed. “That's the bear that attacked us.”

“But it's a dead guy in a costume. I guess that explains why it was such a weird looking bear,” Dave reasoned. “But why would two people dress like animals to explore a cave?”

I coughed loudly and busied myself with the console before me. “Do you know what Furries are?” Dave grunted and must have responded 'no' in some non-verbal way as she continued to explain. “They  dress up like animals and then they [court each other in a vigorous manner].”

“Oh!” Dave responded. “Well, good for them.” After a moment, he added “It didn't turn out good for them here. Maybe it did turn out good for them for awhile but it didn't end well.” After another uncomfortable pause he continued. “Well maybe it ended well but...” Calmly I spoke his name and he stopped. “I thought we agreed the bear couldn't fit down here. They got down here. Why can't the killer bear get down here?”

“Yeah,” Tina appended.

“I'm sure they wedged the costumes through the gap and put them on in the cave,” I answered. These questions were distracting me from the console.

“But its not a bear,” Dave insisted. “It's a something that looks like a bear or a guy in a bear costume. If that came from here, can't it get back?”

As if in answer, there was a roar from the hallway. “Thank you Dave. It's here.”

Things Get Brighter

As we made our way into the cave, the light grew brighter and brighter, soon removing the need to feel our way forward. That was strange but not really concerning. When we came across the hatchway and entered the metal structure, that's when some nerves kicked in.

I got that weird excited feeling that I get when I'm starting to figure something out; that reaction that seems to leave people with the impression that I'm completely insane. “Yes, of course!” I noted as I walked through the hatchway without pausing.

Dave and Tina hesitated to tread further, lingering at the doorway. “The metal doesn't seem to be a problem to you?” Tina demanded.

“A problem?” I echoed. “It's a problem but it's also a solution.” They looked at me strangely. “Smell the air,” I directed.

Dave and Tina exchanged a look which I recognized as the 'he's lost it' look. Still, they indulged me, visibly sniffing at the air. While Tina shrugged her shoulders, the smell seemed to trigger something for Dave. “What is that? It is familiar.”

“Remember when we found Tim?” I prodded. His eyes lit up. “Same smell in here.”

Dave stepped inside but Tina was less willing to do so. “No. Explain this. People are dying and now you're dragging me to your weird secret lair? I don't think so.”

“What secret lair?” Dave questioned. “I don't have a secret lair. And he's never been here before so he can't have a secret lair.”

“It's 'your' cave,” she protested. “And I don't know him,” she gestured in my direction, “so I don't know where he's been before or what weird mind tricks he might have done to you with this smell or whatever. Explain!”

I was eager to do so and did at a rapid pace. “You see there was this weird smell near where Tim died and the smell kept returning to the 'scenes of the crimes' and it was really familiar but I couldn't quite place it because I hadn't smelled it in awhile but that smell is the smell that's in here and seeing the metal and the style of the ship I realized it's the smell that the Na'Dar associate with clean to they work to have all their machinery exhaust this scent because it's 'clean'.”

They watched me grin madly. Slowly Dave checked “So, this is a spaceship?”

“I'm thinking so,” I answered. “Probably crashed here ages ago. Wonder if it was one of the scout ships they used to observe us before they officially landed? That would be kinda cool.”

Tina gave me a very grumpy look. “People dying,” she reminded.

“Sorry, sorry. Time and place.” I took a deep breath and focused. “Yes. Right.” I once again sought to go deeper into the ship.

“Was the bear hibernating in here?” Dave questioned, causing me to pause. “Is that why it smells like that in here?”

“There'd have to be another entrance,” Tina reminded. “We decided the bear couldn't fit through the gap we fit through. That's how we talked ourselves into coming in here in the first place.”

“I think we'll find it's not really a bear,” I explained. “Na'Dar technology also generates that scent.” I once again made for the interior of the ship.

Dave's next question made me hesitate again. “So we're outrunning alien technology?”

“Not at this speed we're not.” I started running again. If they wanted to follow me, so be it.

Exploring

“It opens up?” Dave nodded in response to my question. I referred to what was an oversized crack in the rock wall. An average sized human being should be able to fit through it but it didn't look like there was any reason to fit in it. “I used to play in there as a kid,” Dave explained. “It felt like a giant cave then but it was just a room. I didn't explore it much because it didn't seem safe.”

“Even with a flashlight and string?” Tina teased.

“I never got any string,” Dave moped.

“So we're going inside then.” I started testing how I'd fit. There was a slight amount of gut sucking in required.

“Don't bears live in caves?” Tina wisely pointed out.

“If we can barely fit in here, no pun intended,” I responded, “then I don't think it's home to a bear.” I started working my way into the gap, shuffling along through it.

“What about a smaller bear?” Tina questioned.

“You're not helping,” I informed.

The gap in the rock was just long and thin enough to be uncomfortable. I am aware that I have some issues with enclosed spaces, not so much that I'd call myself claustrophobic but enough where I began to become nervous and tense as I progressed. Not being able to take a deep breath did not help. As I was able to keep moving the entire time, my growing panic never got out of control.

I soon popped into a large dimly lit 'room'. The ceiling was within reach and I used it to help me maneuver in the room, dodging the occasional stalactite that hung from the ceiling. Or is that stalagmite? Never was good at remembering that. Tina and Dave soon joined me. “This was your little clubhouse?” she asked.

Dave grinned. “Yeah.” He gravitated towards a corner. “I used to fit in there, eat my lunch, while tucked in between those rocks.” He kicked a candy wrapper. “Mallo cups.”

“Question.” I interrupted. “Where is all this light coming from?”

We'd been in the cave for a few minutes now and I found it far too easy to see for being in a cave. Dave frowned. “That's a good question. It was never pitch black in here but I always had a flashlight with in the past; one of those square lantern style ones I could put on the ground. I never really thought about it as a kid. Crack in the ceiling maybe?”

“Perhaps.” I kept examining the far wall, the area from where the light appeared to be coming. There was another, wider gap in the wall there, more of a tunnel compared to the entryway. It was large enough that the light emanating from it was defused, making the edges of the tunnel difficult to define. “Where does this go?”

“I don't know,” Dave informed. “I never explored in there.”

“Never had the string,” Tina added.

“What she said,” Dave agreed.

“Don't have the string now either,” I noted. “Today it's not going to stop us.” I began feeling my way into the gap.

“Is this a good idea?” Tina asked.

“I doubt it.” I kept moving.

A Rapid Pace

I would love to say there was a plan at this point. To say that would be stretching things a bit. There was running. The only plan there might have been would be 'avoid the bear'. Not a bad plan under the circumstances but nothing grandiose at the same time.

I am not a good runner. I sit a lot, far too much, and don't do enough cardio work to make running easy.  Fear is a great motivator and got me moving. Once that adrenaline faded, so did my ability to keep moving. I know the old joke states that you don't need to outrun a bear, just your friends that are also trying to outrun the bear. I wheezed, my foot hit a patch of ground on an uneven level, twisted, stumbled, and nearly tumbled down this steeply inclined hill. On the plus side, this helped me catch up with the rest of the group, mostly for those nice enough to stop to check on me.

“You okay?” Dave was keen to know. I gasped for breath in response. I'm not sure he was even winded. I hate that. I tried nodding as they helped me up, somewhat aware that this motion might be lost amongst the other actions.

Once I reached my feet, I leaned up against the chunk of exposed rock that was the side of the hill and worked to catch my breath. Panic faded slightly, allowing my reason to began returning. “Where... where is it?” I wheezed.

Dave and Tina looked around, searching for the odd looking beast that had chased us. “I don't see it,” Dave noted.

“I don't hear it,” Tina added.

I managed a deep breath.”Did it give up?”

“Possibly,” answered Dave. “Bears are defensive creatures. Generally speaking they don't attack for the sake of attacking.”

“What was this bear defending when it attacked us?” Tina demanded.

Dave shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno.” He considered this for a moment. “It was a bit small and baggy looking. Maybe it was sick?”

“Maybe,” Tina agreed. “I'm no vet. It would make sense if it was lashing out in blind pain. Or explain the lack of expression on its face.”

“Hey,” I interjected, “is this rock vibrating or is it just me?”

Dave laughed. “Are you that shook up from some running? That's just...” He stopped his mockery upon feeling the rock. “It is vibrating. Or pulsing or something.”

“Why would that be happening?” Tina wondered.

“I don't know but I think we should find out.”

A Clue?

“This makes no sense,” Karen declared. “Why are we doing this?” All of my limited interaction with her has been unpleasant. It's still not clear to me if this was her way of dealing with unpleasant circumstances, to retain control of them, or if she was just an unpleasant person.

I stomped towards the garage, the others trailing behind me. “Because I feel we're being told something about what's going on here but we aren't hearing it.”

Karen had no issue expressing her thoughts on this matter. “Are you nuts?”

“Probably!” We piled into the garage. It was a large structure with space for at least a couple vehicles, a handful of off-road vehicles, and a large tool bench. Upon this tool bench is where we had laid Tim's corpse. A figure still lay there beneath a tarp.

For a moment, no one spoke. There was some sniffing and loud breathing, but no speech. Tina fought through her tears to ask “What are we looking at?”

Dave quietly answered. “That's where we left Tim to rest.”

“He hasn't got much rest so far,” Jeff commented.

Slowly I approached the bench, prepared for the possibility that the prone figure might suddenly move but continuing on as if it would not. “Are you nuts?” Jeff hissed.

“I believe I answered that question already,” I murmured. I lifted the tarp. Tim lay below it, motionless.

Some sounds of disgust met this action. “Is this really necessary?” Karen demanded.

“Yes, I think so,” I pondered, forcing myself to stare at the corpse before me, looking for the clue my brain kept telling me was there.

“He doesn't look like he's been up walking,” Dave declared.

“What should he look like if he was up walking?” asked Jeff.

“I don't know,” Dave responded, “but that's not it.”

Tina sniffed. “He looks congealed.”

“He doesn't, doesn't he?” My brain recognized this as a piece of the puzzle but I knew I had to keep my mouth running in order to motivate my brain. “Congealed. Stopped. Collecting. But yet a few moments ago we sat him upright and fresh.” I dropped the tarp. “There's a difference, isn't there?”

“Was it yet the way the sun was illuminating him?” Jeff conjectured.

“I don't think so.” Images of the freshly wounded looking Zombie Tim flashed through my brain. “There's a difference between the two.”

“Two?” Dave echoed. “How are there two? Why would there be two? Someone's imitating him?”

“It seems likely. This Tim is changing, settling, solidifying. The Tim we saw outside was in motion, fresh looking, like... like a snapshot of that last moment.”

Karen huffed. “This is stupid. Let's just go to the police. It's their job to figure out why this happened and who's doing it, not us.”

Chris cleared his throat quietly. “She has a point. Let's get the professionals in.”

I nodded. “Yes. Yes of course.”

As we exited the garage, Karen's mouth kept moving. She grumbled about the delay in departing, how dumb us men were to speculate about these impossible things, and started discussing where we might go after dealing with the police. Once we were outside, a weird looking bear emerged from the trees, swatted Karen to the ground, and growled loudly. Then there was a lot of running.

She Ought Not Have Done That

Tim's reappearance did not bode well. Whatever might have been causing his reappearance, the message that his presence gave was clear to me: Don't leave.

This did complicate the situation slightly. We were going to report Tim's death via accident, a believable occurrence, but here we had a walking, well, shambling, undead Tim, which was less believable. We should be able to plow him over with the car as we left but would there be more behind him? Would car crash damage to his person make it look like we had something to injure him? A good coroner would be able to tell the difference but who know if that would be the case? Or would the evidence be twisted against us? It was unlikely but unreasonable people are plentiful.

I blame these considerations running through my head for distracting me when Janet reacted to Tim's presence. I don't know what thoughts went through went through her mind when she broke away from us and ran to Tim. Perhaps her tortured mind no longer saw the damage to his face or the unsteadiness of his stance. Perhaps she just saw Tim, saw him upright, and thought the events of yesterday were just a nightmare. Whatever her logic, she bolted from us and we were unable to stop her from reaching Tim.

She reached out to embrace him. He reached out to slash open her throat. Of the two, Tim was the one that succeed. Having accomplished this, he shuffled to the front of the cabin.

Moments later we were around Janet. Chris, as it turns out, is an EMT so, as he was one with the most medical training, the rest of us did out best to stay out of his way. Jeff and I did a quick look around for Zombie Tim but found nothing. Nothing visible anyway.

“There's that smell again,” I noted. “The one we noticed when we found Tim originally.”

“Yeah, I smell it too,” Jeff agreed. “Dry but sweet. You'd think there'd be a foul edge to it, of rotting. Nothing strong yet something.”

We were nearly back to the rest of the group. “Its almost...” I struggled to process the smell into words. “Like lavender and something.” Saying the words aloud made them sound familiar. “I know that description. Why do I know that description?”

Chris' declaration broke my train of thought. “She's dead.”

Morning Dawns

The evening quieted. The 'attack' was not repeated. Nor did it begin to make any more sense. I mean, it was clearly a zombie, not built for speed, so where did it get to? We all managed to go to bed or whatever but I don't know if anyone really slept. I dozed but I can't say that I slept. I rested. When the sun no longer allowed me to rest, I was still tired.

Slowly we got up and got going. There was a quietness to us, as if we were waiting for the next thing to happen, as if knowing we'd be attacked whilst munching on toast. Janet ate, which seemed to be a good sign. She also managed a little smile at one point. Small progress.

While still early, we made our way outside to the vehicles. We were all heading to town to speak with the police. No one wanted to be left behind in the cabin near the corpse. I blinked in the sunlight and stretched, trying to wake up a bit more. Fighting a yawn, I turned and looked down the driveway towards the road. There stood Tim. Or Zombie Tim.

Whichever.