AL CLARK (A Sci-Fi Adventure)(Book One) Read online

  Al Clark

  by Jonathan G. Meyer

  AL CLARK

  Copyright

  Copyright © September 2014 by Jonathan G. Meyer

  First Revision April 2015

  Second Revision Dec. 2015

  Cover Art by Dawne Dominique

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or any other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written consent of the author except for brief quotes used in reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedicated to my family,

  For which, if not for them,

  I would be nothing.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  AL CLARK

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  AL CLARK

  Standing at the top of a grass covered hill, with a sweet smelling breeze at his back, he reveled in the bright morning sunshine of a perfect spring day. Jagged heights filled the horizon as the sun hoisted itself up and kissed the mountain tops.

  In the valley below, a small idyllic village was shaking off the night and was well into the process of beginning a new day. The faraway villagers appeared to be enjoying the day as much as he.

  Someone was running up the hill towards him, yelling something—a couple of words, over and over, maybe a name, maybe a warning? He cupped his ears with his hands to better hear what the person was saying, but the sounds came muffled and distorted; carried away by the wind.

  The person got closer and closer, arms and legs pumping, and the words began to get clearer and clearer until just on the verge of understanding, the sky turned a blinding white, and then quickly—faded to black.

  Chapter One

  He awoke gradually, a little at a time, swimming up from the abyss.

  Opening his eyes to near total darkness, all he could see was a small spot of light directly overhead. A tiny star surrounded by a velvety darkness. A single bright dot in the void that grew and expanded to fill his vision until he blinked, and it collapsed to a tiny pinhole of light.

  He could see just enough to determine he was lying in a box not much larger than his body. The soft glow from the pinhole over his head allowed only enough light to see cold dark metal surrounding him. Somewhere far away an alarm was sounding. His head went back and forth frantically trying to understand, as fear grabbed at his heart a disturbing thought came to mind,…Where am I?

  Desperately he raised his arms and pressed hard on the surface above him. He felt a slight shift to his right, so he concentrated his efforts on that side. His fear made him strong and with surprising speed, the lid flew open on concealed hinges and bounced off something—only to slam closed again. For part of a second, he had gotten a glimpse of a small gray room and an oval metal door just a few feet beyond the end of the box.

  A second attempt to free himself, using less effort, was rewarded with the lid swinging to the side and remaining open. The alarm outside the metal box became louder as he eased himself into a sitting position, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

  It was a small and utilitarian room, a cubbyhole with barely enough room for the silver metal box. The lighting was minimal, leaving details fuzzy, but he could tell that this room was designed specifically for the box. A control panel with insistent flashing lights and the annoying alarm blared on the back wall.

  As his eyes became adjusted to the low-level lighting, he took a closer look at the unfamiliar place he found himself. The box was in the center of the room with maybe five feet of space surrounding it.

  That annoying alarm was taking his dull throbbing headache and was quickly turning it into a raging pain in his head. Reaching around, he inspected the control panel. To one side was a switch marked ALARM RESET, which he quickly reached up and pressed. That was much better. Now he could think.

  The room was unadorned. The door, the control panel, and a small pair of cabinet doors on the wall opposite of the steps were all there was to the inside. On the side of the box there appeared to be lettering, but the letters had faded to the point of being unreadable.

  His attire consisted of an off-white uniform of some kind; with long sleeves, creased trousers, and small golden buttons. A pair of black deck boots completed the outfit that could be considered military, or maybe medical. The clothing was not in the least familiar to him.

  Checking his pockets one by one, he found them empty, with no answers inside.

  Waking up in a box, disoriented and confused, not knowing where you were or how you came to be there—is the stuff of nightmares. As he stared at the door, puzzling over where here was, he had a revelation that took this bad dream to a whole new level. Try as he might, he could not recall his name. Who am I? He strived to remember anything about himself and came up with nothing. The memories were just not there.

  The man climbed out of the box and found three small steps leading to the floor. Out of the bottom of the box, several dull colored pipes could be seen disappearing into the floor. He wondered, some form of life support system?

  The sound of his boots echoed in the small space as he stepped over to puzzle over the small cabinet doors. There was a keypad just to the right of the doors with a little red light. He punched in a few numbers, but nothing happened. The doors were locked and would not open without the proper code.

  He turned and stood in front of the oval hatch that served as a door, and triggered a sensor, causing it to slide silently into the wall. When he did, a slight breath of fresh air blew past his face. Stepping over the threshold he looked left, and then right, to discover a long corridor going both ways; dimly lit, and circling slightly upward out of sight. Ten feet tall and ten feet wide with a curved ceiling, the passageway had six-foot portals placed on both sides every fifteen or twenty feet.

  The corridor and doors were a neutral gray color with a faded orange stripe above the doors on both sides; now dull and without luster. He guessed the striping was an indicator of sections or areas.

  Next to each entrance were faded peeling letters, such as LQ26…LQ27, with even numbers on the left and odd numbers on the right. He Turned around and looked closely at the lettering on the door he just came through. It was barely readable, but it appeared to be Albert, or Alvin maybe; Al…something…Clark, with the number 25 below it.

  If this is Al Clark’s room, does that mean I am Al Clark?

  He decided that going left was as good as going right, so he moved to the first door to his left, marked LQ26, and pressed a small button on the right side of the hatch. The barrier slid silently into the wall revealing a dark room. As he walked inside, there was a soft ‘click’, and hidden lighting lit up a room much larger than the one he just left; although there was no wasted space. The room was tinted a faded yellow with a curved ceiling that started abo
ve the door and arced down to end at the far wall.

  The presence of a door inside told him there was more than one room. In the first room was a double bed, a table, and a small desk with a computer terminal mounted on the wall above it. He crossed to the terminal thinking it might help with his questions but pressing the ON button had no effect. In the center of the simple room stood a multi-purpose round table and two chairs locked in notches to the floor.

  The other room was a complete bathroom with a stand-up shower, a small sink, and a toilet. The apartment had everything one might need to fill the basic needs of a couple. With a few modifications, maybe a small family. Both rooms were empty, with no sign of personal belongings or previous occupation. It looked as if these rooms had been unoccupied for many years, with no brightness in the color, and no shiny surfaces to reflect the light.

  Above the sink in the bathroom was a clouded metal mirror that showed the reflection of a man in his early forties, six foot tall, with short brown hair and haunted blue eyes. It was an ordinary looking stranger’s reflection that did nothing to tell him his identity. He didn’t remember hitting his head, but there was a tiny drop of dried blood in the middle of his forehead. He wiped it away with his hand.

  A little overwhelmed, he went back into the main room and sat down on the bed to think. These accommodations did not look worn; these rooms looked unused and old. No scuffed corners or marks of wear on the floor. There were no papers that littered the room; no books on the desk, no bedding covered the bed, and the bathroom appeared old and never used. These living quarters were all ready to move into but never occupied. Why build all this, and never use it? A short time later, he got up and returned to the corridor. He had just left the room and was standing outside when there was a soft ‘click’, the overhead lighting returned to its long held off state, and the door closed automatically. He wondered, Where are all the people?

  He made his way down the passageway, tripping the lighting into other rooms; and found similar quarters, each tinted a different soft color, some with three rooms, but all empty and forgotten. Eventually, he found himself at a large hatch blocking any further travel down the corridor.

  Beside the door, a large sign was posted declaring: ACCESS TO BLUE SECTION and SPOKE 4 LIFT. Directly below the sign was a small control panel with a card reader slot and two indicator lights. One green light labeled OK TO OPEN which was lit, and a red one that was labeled DO NOT OPEN, which was not.

  In the center of the hatch was a small round window with thick plastic or glass that he wiped with his sleeve, allowing him to see into a round room about twenty feet across, with a ten foot faded red circle painted in the center. On the far side of this transition space was an identical door and window; that led to another corridor.

  The card slot told him a key card was needed to open the hatch and gain access to the space beyond. After thinking for a moment, he turned around and hurried back to the other end of the corridor. This one section of the passageway, from large exit door to large exit door, was easily a thousand feet long, so it took him a few minutes to get to the opening at the other end. When he arrived, he found a key card was needed to gain access to this door also. He was trapped in this section of the passageway, and instead of being caught in a small man-sized prison he was stuck in a larger one; with rooms.

  Now…Where on Earth can I get a key card?

  Thinking back, he could remember only one place where he might find an item as important as a key card. The locked cabinet in ‘Al Clark’s’ room. He needed to return to the place where he started and attempt to access the cabinet. He did not have many choices.

  In the room he woke up in, he stood in front of the keypad next to the cabinet doors and considered the code needed to unlock the cabinet. It was probably four or five digits; something memorable for the owner. Depending on what it secured, and the person that programmed it, the code could be devilishly complicated or as simple as 1234. He tapped in 1-2-3-4. That wasn’t it. He tried 1-1-1-1. Not it either. He attempted several different combinations, and none of them worked.

  The only thing that he knew for sure about this place was the lettering on the door: Al…Clark-25. If A = 1, and C = 3, if you added twenty-five to the end, the combination would be 1-3-2-5. To his amazement, when he tried this solution there was a faint ‘click’, and the two cabinet doors popped open. A small smile crept onto his face as he opened the doors, thinking, I would never have bet on that to work.

  Inside, there was the key card he needed complete with a cord to hang around his neck, a small set of old-fashioned looking keys, and a handgun in a holster. He reached up and took down the weapon, wrapping his hand around the grip; it felt comfortable and familiar in his hand.

  Slowly, pieces began to come back to him. A puzzle of fragmented parts pulled themselves together, and he realized that he knew what this weapon was. It was an MLP: Modulated Laser Pistol.

  With this, someone could blow tiny holes in anything that wasn’t hardened metal. Mostly for security, it was the weapon of choice for air-tight facilities—and he knew how to use it.

  Still smiling, he hung the card around his neck and put the keys in his pants pocket. The pistol’s power pack was depleted and needed to recharging, but he clipped it to his belt thinking there must be somewhere around here where it could be charged and made usable.

  He had no idea where he was or how he came to be there, but the card should help lead him to some answers. The card could very well be his ticket out.

  Chapter Two

  He exited the room and turned left, walking back down the corridor to the hatch that required a key card. He pulled the little plastic rectangle from his pocket and took a closer look at it. On one side was emblazoned a single word Excalibur. On the back was a place for a name, but it was incomplete. Seemingly random letters and numbers filled out the rest. The card was a generic card that could be programmed to allow the recipient access to specific areas, except this recipient, had not bothered to fill in the name. Efficient and non-proprietary, this card would not provide more clues.

  The card worked, though, and it opened the hatch into the room at the end of the corridor that separated the two passageways. As he walked in, he noticed a similar control panel on the inside of each door and one in-between the two doors. Inside, the doors had faded signs stating: ACCESS TO ORANGE SECTION, and ACCESS TO BLUE SECTION. The central control panel sign said SPOKE 4 LIFT. All three doors had the accompanying safety lights, indicating if the door was safe to open.

  He passed on through what he was beginning to believe was an airlock, into the other passageway and found it very similar to the one he just left; except the stripe above the doors was a soft blue. Most doors were labeled LQ…something, with the numbers increasing as he went down the corridor. There were a few doors labeled UTILITY, which usually contained cleaning supplies and assorted equipment until he came to a door that said MESS HALL. Almost everyone knew what MESS meant—food! He walked in, and the door closed behind him.

  It was a fairly large room, and designed for food consumption, with room for seventy-five to a hundred people to eat at the same time. All along one side was a counter with places to display a variety of foods. In a back storage area, he found sealed boxes full of various packaged meals, and a user-friendly device for heating the pre-made packets. He heated a package at random, and quickly opened it; squeezing the food labeled Meatloaf and Potatoes into his mouth. The food was bland, but it helped him to feel better.

  The water from the tap behind the counter ran a little grayish for a minute or so until it turned relatively clear. He stuck his head under the faucet and tried sipping from the bottom of the tap. It tasted a little like metal but quenched his thirst.

  The water must be continually recycled. With his thirst satisfied and his hunger sated, he moved out of the mess hall and headed towards the door at the end of the corridor. He would remember this place: Blue Section = Food.

  He continued his explorations un
til he reached the end of the blue section. Again, there was the transition room between the corridors. The inside of this chamber was identical to the one between the orange and blue sections. In this case, it was an airlock for access to the blue section, the green section, and spoke lift three.

  The hatch to the green corridor did not display a green light. On the control panel, was a bright glowing red light, indicating—DO NOT OPEN. Through the round window into the green corridor, he saw the reason for the ominous crimson light. Beyond the hatch a large section of the passageway was gone, leaving the passage beyond open to space. The corridor had a large hole passing through it; where stars were visible.

  The stars told him he was in space, possibly in the centrifugal gravity ring of some a space station, or maybe a ship. The passageway lights were out beyond the window, but the starlight told him all he needed to know. Thirty feet past the door was a large ragged hole through half the corridor. There was no going beyond this point. Now he wondered just how many sections were damaged.

  Was this place abandoned for a reason?

  He returned to the orange corridor, back to where his day started and contemplated what he knew: He had awakened in a box in a room labeled Al…something…Clark. His clothing consisted of a uniform, and somehow he knew how to use an MLP handgun. The station seemed empty of people, appeared old, but at the same time unused. The ring must still be rotating, or he wouldn’t have gravity. There was food and water in the mess hall for a large number of people, and in the areas he had been through, there was living space for at least two-hundred people. To add to the mystery, he had not found a single working computer.

  It took him almost an hour to get to the end of the orange corridor. He took his time and investigated areas he had run by before and noticed several places he’d missed in his rush to get information. There were several doors marked UTILITY, and some keyed doors marked MAINTENANCE. His card worked on these doors also; inside he found electrical equipment, HVAC equipment, and workstations with tools neatly displayed and secured.