Months later, Doctor Watson's ship was off course to uncharted territory, but no one knew until too much time had passed and the ship's system became outdated. They were truly alone and lost in space. Before then, Celene complained to Dr. Watson that his android was going around and harassing people, and the doctor jailed Artemis, locking him in the storage near the cafeteria.
But one thing Doctor Watson forgot to do was properly turn him off.
Then, one morning, as Taylor was having his coffee, and Doctor Watson was in his cabin, Celene became curious about things she should've stayed out of: Artemis. She was a bit peculiar for her actions—that and being the last woman aboard the ship—but besides her worsening state of depression, she decided to seek out the machine that once brought her fear as a result of humans' natural curiosity.
Down the hall, the lights flickered and began to dim: The Doctor was conserving energy. Hissing from the release of white clouds collected by the vent and into her face; warm, moist, and a little irritating from the tickle. Beads of contaminated liquid broiled her skin—a rash began to form on the tip of her brow and forehead. . .She came close to the door. . .
Her engineering space was just as she had left it before Rachel's death: all bombarded with little figurines of starships she had designed and drawings of her paragons. . .the light bulb jostled, moving about, to and fro, from side to side. . .
Someone had just been here, and it wasn't Celene.
A crash from the backend of the workshop sounded and echoed into the deep caverns and crevasses of the ship. Celene instinctively tensed and slowly moved toward the dark shadows. She heard a creaking sound like a tree groaning in the wind as it leaned from side to side. . .
A white halo of light in the middle of the room shined upon a stone table. . . Papers strewn across the stone slab depicted intricate drawings of a woman with tentacles oozing from her cracked skull, shredded angel wings of death sprouting from her shoulder blades, a dissected stomach showcasing the lack of recognizable organs. . .the creaking sound groaned once more before Celene shifted her gaze upward to see a pair of feet barely touching the light. Slowly, she watched as the toes turned north, north east, east, south east, south, south west. Then paused. After a few seconds: south-south west, south, south east, east. . .
. . .she felt a cool brush of wind from a computer fan on her shoulder;
Celene turned to see Artemis breathing down her neck: "What'd you do to her?" She exclaimed.
"Exactly what I'm going to do to you."
As Artemis lunged forward, Celene grabbed the pen on the stone table and jabbed it into the tough skin on his neck. At first, droplets of opaque liquid dribbled down the pen and onto Celene's hand. Then, it began gushing like a faucet. Around Celene's shoulders, Artemis clenched his hands tighter and tighter—her shoulders began to twists and fold under the pressure until both of her clavicles snapped in half.
An echoing pop filled her chest cavity.
Artemis smiled at the sound of her bones breaking.
Celene cried out in pain, but before her entire chest was crushed, she pulled out the pen from his neck, relaxed like a rag doll, and jammed it into his main cord. The shell of the human stiffened and crumpled into a tight ball.
"I swear to God I'll fuck up your perfect composure." She hissed, ripping out the white, slimy cord and hung it around her shoulders.
—-
When Doctor Watson saw the beautiful trophy hung around the engineers neck, he brutally lashed out before realizing she was injured. Taylor asked repeatedly about helping her, but to his dismay, Watson only had a D. E. So, they decided to inject osteoid, quickening the process of the formation of the boney callous, and in just a week, Celene was out of the sling.
It had been a while that the four of them had been stuck together on the claustrophobic ship, meanwhile Smith had been researching the terrain of the nearest planet: a planet capable of life.
In the distance, Taylor gazed upon an orange planet, shrouded in the engulfing dark matter of space.
"There's life on that planet?" Taylor's voice dissipated into the glass windows.
Doctor Watson responded, "according to Smith, it's a possibility. He's no biologist, but he knows about his rocks."
"Gliese 667 Cc." Artemis strode into the cockpit triumphant as usual and arrogant, holding his chin upward. "It roughly has a surface temperature around 30 degrees Celsius. Therefore, the presence of water could be a possibility."
Taylor turned to the doctor with a contorted look of confusion, "what's the purpose of this trip, Doctor. I had the impression it was a terraforming mission of sorts."
Doctor Watson glanced at Artemis who stood eerily still then back at Taylor. "Listen, Mr. Taylor, this ship had a specific destination to colonize. . .an area. . .but now we just have to survive."
A colonizing mission? So, Doctor Watson is still following orders from some form of government. . .but a question still plagued his mind.
Squishing them together, Taylor's lips moved accordingly before he realized what he was saying—"Why. . ." He so innocently asked.
Doctor Watson, startled from the loaded word, hesitated before answering; "I don't mean to alarm you, but the world has always been ending, so. . .the current administration under the Martian president promised new hope. . .and well. . .I am that new hope."
He was a genuine man: hard working and willing to provide the people with what they wanted—Taylor only wished he could be as selfless as the doctor.
A hissing noise reminded Taylor of the God Forsaken robot standing behind them. "Artemis," Doctor Watson began, "could you inform Anders that she's the newest pilot of the USS Gaea."
"With pleasure." Artemis bowed his head once, smiled wickedly, and pivoted on his heal toward the door—white splotches stained the cloth of his uniform.
With that one look, it all came together like a finished puzzle piece, and Doctor Watson did not approve.
—-
Red light reflected on the slick white of his eye, and carefully his fleshy fingers worked as the little black scorpion raised its claws to the bright light.
"Yes, my pretty, do as your mother once threatened to do to you: eat her. . .eat the living flesh off of her frail bones."
—-
His gaze glared over her with a creepy smile, and Celene screamed once before he shushed her with his hand.
"Doctor Watson wanted me to inform you that you're the new captain of this ship. Ms. Anders, may I ask: have you ever flown a ship before?"
Celene ignored his question, sneered at him and hissed: "how the fuck are you still alive? If that's even the correct terminology?"
The android paused, "there have some major updates from when you remember me back in training." Artemis moved to the door, but before he left, Celene asked:
"Why?" It was a simple question with a complicated answer. "Why do you want to kill everyone?"
The robot chuckled, "have you ever wanted to prove your worth to someone?" And for some reason, the idea that Artemis even cared scared Celene more than he had before.
—-
Gaea landed with precision from Celene and copilot Artemis, and when the hatch opened, Taylor, Smith, Watson, Artemis and Celene stood agape at the gorgeous red cliffs; the quiet gushing sound of a raging river echoed against the hull of the ship.
"Well then, time to set up base camp," the doctor pretended to muse over the future city on Gliese, "you kids go on and explore the river down below, I've forgotten my anti-biotic prescription for—" he mumbled the last part as the doctor turned and walked up the ramp.
Smith couldn't care less as he started taking samples of the red dust beneath them, and Celene and Taylor exchanged a dismissive shrug.
Over the cliff, a massive river connected to a delta and then finally into the vast sea. Everyone on the beach took a seat to watch the gorgeous sunset as the oranges and reds blended together.
"My, you wouldn't get to see such beauty at home, now would ya?" Digging his elbows into the bloody red sand, Taylor laid his back on the ground, gazing at the glistening sea.
With a smile, Celene also laid her hands on the sticky red dust, "no, I guess not." It was quiet—too quiet, but there was nothing in sight but the vast amount of diamonds sparkling in the sea, and the towering cliffs behind them. Now and then, little rocks would tumble down the side, bringing a cohort of more rocks that followed down, crashing and bashing against the wall until they reached the bottom; the sound echoing off the side of the cliff.
His eyes moved to the profile of Celene before he opened his mouth—a rattling, low pitched hiss whistled in the distance. Turning his head to peer over his shoulder, Taylor saw two gigantic claws pinching together as the beast bent its dark abdomen forward, showcasing the thick, black stinger.
"What the hell is that thing?"
It turned aimlessly in circles, twitching it's thorn like needle and creating little holes in the sand, but then. . .as it turned to face Taylor and Celene, it jumped a little as if it was startled by their presence. Suddenly, the scorpion shot forward like a bullet, scuttling across the blood red sand with legs faster than any animal on earth.
And in a matter of seconds, it was only a foot away from Taylor's face.
With his hand, Taylor tried to block Celene as the scorpion coiled back and launch forward, aiming for the delicacy that was the human heart.