Space Blob The Love Story

Space Blob, The Love Story

An original science fiction fantasy story by Steven Vandervelde, copy right by the author

Disclaimer, the resemblance of certain characters to real life people is satire, which is protected free speech. Either grow a sense of humor or suck it up and go away.

Prelude

In the perverted mind of the so called “post modern” pseudo-intellectual the idea of romantic love, love between a man and a woman, which includes procreation and rearing a family, has been degraded by lust and moral relativism to the point where it has become exceptional.  The older way of conserving family with marriage is considered too illiberal to contemplate by many people in the modern neo Marxis politically correct social justice warrior anti Western worldview.  Thus, it has come to pass that love of pleasure superceded true love.  Even pedophilia and sexual abuse of animals is promoted by the most far gone.  The world has sunken in lust, perversion, and inversion both morally and politically.  So, when an ancient life form apparently once used as a kind of bio-environmental clothing for a lost race of space travelers was discovered on the first Mars expedition society had no immunity to its possibilities.  The environment suite life form was supremely adaptable to the needs and desires of its host animal.  It appeared to be a kind of spunge, but it could survive complete desiccation in the thin air and frigid temperatures of Mars, for eons. It existed to serve but in untrained hands becomes a parasite.

The Space program was divided into three parts, research conducted by NASA, the military Space Force, and corporate development. The corporate part was subsidized both directly and indirectly by and basically a creature of the other two wings, but completely and totally under the control of post modernist corporate types, boundlessly ambitious, totally amoral. And so after the mysterious loss of a secrete Chinese attempt, they finally mounted the long postponed expedition to Mars.  Far from the reach of any authority on Earth, they discovered it, the Space Blob, and they did as they pleased.

Chapter One

The Alien Menace

“No! Please stop! We have reached the limits of what rectal probing has to teach us.” Matt Groening

Jeff Bozo was beginning to be annoyed with the detective firm he had hired.  The guy made too many implied threats, but there was nothing he would do about it. He was a worthless coward in some ways and knew it. Sure, he was great at taking risks with other people’s money, but death threats were a whole other matter. He knew that he had done this to himself. He had hired the most ruthless and effective people on Earth, because he could afford them, to find out whatever was knowable about the secrete failed Chinese Mars Expedition.

“Why did you have them killed?” Jeff maintained a calm tone of voice, but inside he was seething with fear and rage.

“It’s your own fault. You sent me a pair of immature, no emotionally retarded, creepy back stabbing pieces of shit on and errand of extreme importance. You knew what kind of worthless creeps they were. They were security risks. It’s on you.” Price answered.

Jeff had sent a pair of his favorite butt boys. He knew they were homosexuals, but they were efficient. It had never occurred to him that Price would take it so personally and react so violently. He didn’t really understand Price. Price had a totally diametrically opposite view and way of doing things. Jeff could never admit to himself that Price was right. The two assistants had climbed to the top of his corporate ladder because they were in fact back stabbing, lying, and totally self absorbed creatures, just like him, except a little too perverted for his taste. At some level in his mind Jeff knew it was true.

“I have the file. Would you please give me a synopsis of your conclusion, Price?” He knew that Price would not like risking telling him on the phone, but Jeff believed it was secure and felt like flexing on him in this petty way.

“There’s a synopsis in the beginning.” Price snapped in hung up. Jeff knew the payment had gone through and crypto is irrevocable, so there was nothing he could do but fume.

“It better be there.” He thought. He often had threatening and demanding thoughts. It didn’t help that he knew that on this occasion there was nothing he could do about it. Price was annoying, but he could not afford to burn that bridge.

Yes, annoying. All he felt was annoyance. The death of his two most efficient and effective executive assistants was merely annoying. He never considered what that implied. He was a man of action, not self reflection, and devoid of the encumbrance known as a conscience. They had died in a fiery car crash shortly after leaving Price’s office. Although Bozo had no way of knowing it, the “accident” happened while the pair were still in the range of Price’s mobile phone jamming device and could not have had time to reveal anything to any third party. Or so Price thought.

More than a thousand miles away Elion Husk received the same file as Bozo and was already reading the synopsis before Bozo was finished with his telephone conversation.

Summery of the failed Chinese Mars Expedition:

Infrared observation from close Mars orbit has revealed the existence of an anomalous heat signature indicating the presence of an unknown heat source and residual atmospheric and water vapor emission from a cave. There was no credible geological explanation for the anomaly. The cave is located in a great canyon in the same location previously mentioned, which indicates unusual concentrations of rare earth mineral deposits, including Uranium and Thorium. That location was the target of the expedition.

The Chinese Mars Landing Vehicle, CMLV, successfully landed in the forbidding region on a ledge sufficient to hold the CMLV and close enough for easy access to the cave. The crew successfully entered the cave. A base camp was constructed adjacent to the CMLV, however most of the life support equipment was quickly transferred into the cave when the crew discovered it to be a more suitable habitation considering conditions on Mars.

The CMLV had insufficient fuel capacity to take off and had abandoned the Mars Transport Module in orbit. The first CMTM is only capable of a return trip if refueled by another much larger CMTM with sufficient capacity . The CMLV was landed in anticipation of the successful construction of the larger CMTM in Earth orbit. However, the launch was postponed and the project put on hold pending review by the CCP Central Committee after contact was lost with the Mars Expedition.

The primary reason for the postponement was the information already received by the Central Committee from the Mars expedition. The crew discovered either alien technology or an alien life form or both. They were ordered to study and experiment with whatever it was they discovered. The precise identity of the item or items discovered was not known to the informant. The informant claims that the Central Committee was in a blind panic and incapable of consensus on how to precede in such a way as to preserve or transport the discovered item or items without grave danger to their own existence and by implication the existence of humanity.

The foreboding nature of that communication and its accompanying details was not enough to deter either of the two prospective space exploring corporate magnates. Indeed, it provided an even greater incentive. It seems that the vague threat of a mass extinction event for themselves and everyone else was more like an added enticement, rather than a deterrence. The new space race was launched in earnest. China remained strangely quiet as committeemen went missing in a deadly internal conflict. This lack of activity was not viewed as a reason to proceed with added caution, but as a chance to catch up and get there first. The enticement was so great. The threat of being second or too late to exploit whatever the missing and presumed dead Chinese space men had discovered was too great a temptation. Both of them independently and simultaneously decided to go and see for themselves in person. 

Neither of them could conceal the necessary preparations from the other. It soon became obvious that they too would require two vessels to haul the necessary fuel and sustenance for a return trip and a permanent research base. Uncharacteristically, they came to an agreement. Many of the few who were in the know considered this cooperation to be a more fantastic thing than whatever it was the Chinese had discovered. They had always been serious competitors in the corporate space race.

The Chinese state made it clear to them both through confidential channels that they considered any trespass on their abandoned equipment on Mars unacceptable. The two tried to negotiate with the Chinese both cooperatively and behind each other’s back but to no avail. The Chinese refusal was accompanied by implicit death threats, but they reacted by redoubling their personal security and giving the Defense Intelligence Agency just enough information to induce the DOD to protect their physical assets from “terrorist” attack.

The so called Dark Web, which is only dark to the computer handy-caped meaning almost everyone, was abuzz with rumors and speculations about the upcoming dual space expedition. Their anti-PR departments acted full time to suppress any “conspiracy theory” that approached the truth of the matter. The inversion was complete. The final launching of the dual expedition was shrouded with lies and caked with the usual sickly sweet twaddle so beloved by the purveyors of Wokeness. Two amazing titans of industry, self made men, had patched up their longstanding differences and at shocking expense to their personal fortunes embarked upon a hopeful adventure to advance humanity into our trans human utopian future in outer space.

The two guys were definitely not besties. They remained in private quarters each in his own MTM. The two crews, being extremely well qualified professionals and normal human beings, there had been extensive psy testing because no one wants to be trapped in a tin can with a crazy SJW or other victim of social promotion of incompetence, were very amiable, worked together fantastically, and even visited between Modules, which were bound together to conserve fuel. The interaction of the crews had bound them all together as a band of brothers, and a handful of sisters. In fact the two magnates could not stand the company of the crew and avoided them as much as possible, which is to be expected from functioning borderline personality types. The best that can be said for them was that they had enough self awareness to realize that they would have been a disruptive influence. Normally, neither of them cared, but in this case they were risking too much to mess things up by acting awkward and stupid around others.

The crew was not made aware of the danger that had terrified the Chinese so much. The details were unknown. Neither of the guys considered the fact of the Chinese terror significant. The crew were well aware of the the imaginary and well known dangers of outer space. Dwelling on them would have been counter productive. However the two super rich space nerds could not agree which of them should land on Mars first, so they both took a birth on the MLV. The officers had warned the crew to expect that kind of childishness. Heaven forbid that only qualified professionals should be allowed to examine the Chinese landing site first. None of the crew were aware of the alien threat. They were all told that analyzing mineral wealth and taking Chinese technology was the main mission.

Upon landing, Bozo and Husk had the sense to let the pilot and copilot exit first and not jossle for third. They flipped a coin. The other two specialists took up the rear. They had landed beside the CMLV. The connecting survival modules were undisturbed, except for one thing. The pressure chamber outer door was wide open. The MLV pilot cautioned them all to stand by while the copilot took a closer look.

“There is a body in the chamber. Space suite seems intact. The locking mechanism is still powered. I’m going in.” Before anyone could object the outer door slid shut. A light came on indicating in Chinese that atmosphere was cycling in the chamber. The light indicating recycling came on and the door opened again. The copilot could read Chinese characters and had operated it from the inside. “Come on in, guys, Everything in here is OK.”

The other three crewmen proceed into the airlock. Bozo and Husk looked at each other making eye contact through the space helmet face shield. Both made the same decision at the same time and followed them into the airlock. One of the crew was examining the Chinese space man inside the module through his face shield.

“This one is still breathing.”

“How could that be possible?” Husk spoke first over riding everyone else who had the same question.

“I have no clue. We should bring him inside for examination.” Both the space magnates agreed. One of the crew carried the spacesuited Chinaman into the module like a suitcase, Mars gravity being a little of one fifth of Earth’s. The miraculously living Chinaman was laid out in the middle of the ante room of the module for examination. The copilot flipped up his own helmet face shield.

“The atmosphere is good, according to those readings.” He indicated a display on the of Chinese characters. One after another they all opened their helmets.

“How the hell could this happen? They were all supposed to be dead?” He was facing in the direction of Musk and Bozo. Bozo shrugged. Musk answered.

“Either they were missing and presumed dead because of equipment failure, or our Chinese sources were mistaken and we were lied to. Can either of you open his mask?”

Before anyone answered the copilot had it open. The Chinese space man began thrashing and babbling in Cantonese. When he went still he was on his face. The pilot moved as if to turn him over.

“No! Stop!” The copilot shouted. The pilot froze, then stood up.

“What’d he say?” The pilot asked.

“I’m not sure. Manduran is different from Cantonese. I think he said, the monster got to me.” 

“Close his God damn face shield!” one of the other crew shouted. “He said sea monster.”

Everyone closed their face shield. The pilot and copilot carefully turned the tormented man over. His face was contorted in terror and pain. As they sealed him back into his space suit they observed something brown and slimy cover over his face. One of the crew members spoke over his helmet com. Everyone knew who he was talking to. “What the holy hell have you two gotten us into?”

The pilot was calm and spoke to the copilot. “Did any of that shit get out of his helmet?”

“No, I didn’t see any.”

The brown slime receded slowly away from the Chinaman’s face. He seemed to sleep peacefully as if under anesthesia. The pilot spoke with the voice of authority.

“Procedures are clear. We are now in quarantine.”

“You can’t do that!” Bozo objected.

“Yes. He can. We signed the contract. Did you bother to read it?” Husk told him with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “We are under their authority out here. We are mere passengers.”

“We should take a look around.” The pilot said. The two space magnets treated his words as orders instead of mere suggestions from that point on. “You two,” meaning the space magnates, “stay here and keep an eye on him. Don’t touch anything while we are gone.”

Husk grinned gleefully at Bozo as the four space men left the room to explore. Bozo fumed, folded his arms in resignation and stared at the prostrate spacesuited form on the deck. He removed a device from a velcro sealed pocket in his suit. It looked like a cell phone. It was a cell phone.

He turned it on, selected the translate option for Cantonese, and spoke into it putting it close to the Chinaman’s helmet to make sure he could hear. 

“Commarad, what has happened to you? We are here to help.” The Chinaman’s eyes blinked open and he stared wildly at Bozo. “Please remain calm. You can only help yourself if you are calm.”

Slowly and fitfully, as a result of the limitations of Google Translate, Bozo got the Chinaman’s sad and terrifying story. The Sea Monster, as he insisted on calling it, was in the cave. It was dry like an old crust of bread. The biologist broke off a small piece of it and revived it by watering it as if it were a Bonsai Tree. It came to life and began to grow. The cave contained many such creatures. Some were still attached to strange, bizarrely shaped skeletal remains, but more like insect’s exoskeletons.  They had obviously been dead for eons. There were strange things in the cave, artifacts of unknowable use or significance.

Mission requirements demanded that they adapt and survive at all costs until retrieval arrived. Food would soon run out if hydroponics were not built quickly. Some suggested that the spongy alien material might be edible. The biologist found that it was. A volunteer was selected to eat some and he was fine. It didn’t appear to harm him. They all began to eat it. It was easier to grow than hydroponics consuming human waste without processing and apparently had all the nutrition the human metabolism needs. It was almost like a stimulant it as so healthful. But then…

The poor Chinaman broke down and began to sob. He collected himself after a moment. It was as if he were under hypnotism. He continued to spill out his guts to Bozo. Strange things began to happen. People became hyper sexual. Some developed alternate sexual organs,becoming biologically bisexual. A crew member found that he could wear the sponge monster like a space suit. Then things went tragically wrong. Some of the crew were totally consumed by the monster. They were still inside it but mere skeletons with eyeballs and their mouths could still speak. The rest was all monster. The crew become so terrified they began to exterminate each other. In the end only a handful survived, but just clinging to life and sanity. In a few cases, for unknown reasons the monster chose not to consume them utterly. They agreed to retreat to the CMLV.

The four crewmen returned each dragging two or three space sited Chinamen. They stacked them by the airlock hatch like so much cord wood. Bozo and Husk made a show of ignoring them. Then the pilot gave an order.

“Bring that one here too.” 

Bozo wanted to object but Husk shook his head to indicate to him to keep silent. Then Husk spoke.

“I can see that you are planning to put these poor men outside. You must realize that they are still alive, but in a coma. Putting them out there might kill them.”

The pilot answered. “The procedure is to mitigate damage from alien contamination. They’re as good as dead already. If you want to join them take them to the cave entrance yourselves.”

“We don’t know what will happen if we just leave them in the cold.” Husk answered.

“Don’t worry. We will handle it.” He did not mention that he intended to open the helmets to the Martian atmosphere which he hoped would completely desiccate them. He was unwilling to risk their lives for the sake of what was left of men he considered enemies in any case. After opening the helmets he and his men dragged them as fare from the module as he dared. He did not like being outside now that he knew it could turn into a horror at any time. He though better of leaving them as they were and smashed the helmet visors just in case the monsters could come back to life and close them before being completely desiccated. He and the crew stood and waited until the out gassing stopped before returning to the module.

The pilot informed the MLV crew of the situation. The two in the MLV reported to the MTM. The captains of the two Modules in orbit above Mars conferred and contacted the pilot. They wanted a conference call with the two space magnates. The pilot switched it to conference mode but with the entire crew. The captains did notice or chose not to notice the alteration of the order and the call proceeded.

The captain of Bozo’s ship began the conversation. “Alright, Bozo, you better share all the information you have if you ever want to leave Mars.”

Borzo was forthcoming including the gist of his interrogation of the Chinaman. Husk only interrupted to point out how lucky they all were that Bozo had taken that action before the poor fellow was put to death, as far as they all knew, on the surface of Mars. That opened the question of how killable the alien possessed Chinamen really were. The MLV crew agreed to find out, but since they were all exhausted by the ordeal they were granted time to eat and sleep before taking any action. The two crewmen inside the MLV were on high alert, being required to take turns on watch in case of attack. The four crewmen in the surface module took turns keeping watch, not trusting the two space magnates to do a simple job like that competently.

The question of dead or not dead was easier to determine than might be assumed. The Chinamens’ remains were exposed by removing them from the suites. The brown alien material was nowhere to be seen. Someone got the idea of gutting one of the desiccated corpses. The area they were in was luckily not in the shade so they were not frozen. The ambient temperature was cold but not below freezing. As soon as they were in the shade that would change. The pilot was aware of that, so he only allowed his fellows to take a short nap. They were too keyed up to sleep much anyway.

The gutting proved that the material was within the corpse. After gutting all of them they returned to the surface module and slept soundly. They had removed as much of the material as they could with their folding trenching tool style shovels using the pick end to pry away and expose more flesh as needed. They cleaned the tools with sand as well as they could but left them outside. They didn’t want a single cell of that stuff in their sleeping quarters. No telling what it could do.

They should have incinerated the bodies but lacked the means. None of them gave it much thought. A few hours later one of the crew returned to the site of the butchering. The bodies had pulled themselves back together and were gone. Either that or someone else was on Mars and had taken all the remains, including the blob material away. The sandy surface told the tale. They had put themselves together, as desiccated as the were, and hauled themselves to the cave. Fortunately they left behind the space suites.

The pilot made a unilateral decision to evacuate the surface. He informed the two captains that he was coming up whether they took them in or not. He and his crew had no intention of remaining in the vicinity of these terrifying troll like creatures who could put themselves back together again. The two space magnates argued with him and threatened him. He had an answer for them.

“You two crazy nerds can stay here and be eaten by trolls. We are going up. Fuck you. Stay here.” Him and his crew departed quickly, not giving them enough time to even collect their wits. They were in shock by the combination of events and the affront to their plans and imagined authority. It did not really sink in that off Earth they had very little authority. They had never had much experience with life and death situations except to inflict them on others and did not comprehend what was happening to them until it was too late. They were marooned on Mars. It took a few hours for it to sink in. When they stopped bickering they came up with a plan. The first order of business was to clean the habitation and the CMLV in order to reduce the possibility of contamination. They then began working on getting the communication system functioning. The CMTM was still in orbit and its automated systems were still working. They could contact China.

The Pilot was ordered to board the CMTM until they were certain they were not contaminated, which would be months, because the MTM could not return to Earth until the planets were aligned close enough for the fuel supply to take them there. They did not consider taking fuel from the CMTM because it was not compatible.

The space magnates were able to establish contact with China before the MLV crew took possession of the derelict. The Chinese were not friendly, downright spiteful. Bozo tried to appease them by reporting the fate of the Chinese crew. The materialistic atheist communists berated them for the desecration of their crew. Husk pointed out the absurdity and irrelevance of their rhetoric. An officer with a better grasp of American idiom and a modicum of common sense was put on the line. He informed them that there was not hope of rescue for a year or more because procedures for dealing with the alien life form were still under development. That was the end of the conversation. The time lag between transmissions added an air of absurdity to the whole thing. The two space magnates realized that if they were going to live they had to do it themselves. In spite of their inherent personality defects they were still intelligent and highly motivated. They both wanted to live to salvage something from the situation.

They inventoried the supplies. They taught themselves to read enough Chines characters to operate the CMLV. They had nothing but time. They learned enough astronomy to figure out the optimal timing to return to Earth. They were still in communication with CMTM’s computer. The crew of the MLV did nothing to damage or interfere with its workings. They were productive types, not sociopaths, and the idea of harming the ship was out of the question. It might be part of a backup survival plan for them too. They let it be. By the time the MTMs were scheduled to depart for Earth the two captains concluded that they were not contaminated and allowed them to return to the MTMs. They would be housed in isolation just in case.

The two captains had plenty of time to study the situation. They separated the heavier MTM and loaded it with all the equipment that would have been transported to the surface of Mars. They drained all of its fuel into the other MTM. That had all been planned in advance. They departed on schedule. The two space magnates had other ideas. They had long speculative discussions on the nature of the alien life form and the reasons behind the failure of the Chinese to adapt to it. 

The first conclusion they came to was self evident. Don’t eat it. The implications of the apparent reanimation of the Chinese corpses intrigued them. They became obsessed with the idea that the alien life form contained the secrete of immortality. The study of Chinese space technology and solar system navigation was too boring to them once they felt they had the rudimentary understanding necessary to get them back to Earth. They resolved to enter the cave.

Suited up and ready to go the two were actually in a jovial mood. The days of the intense competitiveness seemed to be a thing of the past. They had learned how to survive as a team. Bozo was glad Husk was not one of these sex obsessed perverts so common in his experience of other high powered types. He understood his own motivations and drives and had them well in hand. Besides, they were both very unattractive middle aged men. Neither of them was far enough gone into hedonism to make a move on the other. It was out of the question. Both were mostly heterosexual in any case, even though they were both well aware that neither of them was a real man like the male members of their former space crews had been. The needs of survival forced them both to deal with the requirements of the situation at hand. They approached the opening of the cave with all due caution and trepidation.

They had timed it so as to give themselves the maximum amount of light until shadows fell on the opening of the cave and the area between it an the Chinese base camp. The ambient temperature of the bedrock of Mars was above freezing. They were thus safer in the cave than out in the open in the dark. The suits could not keep them from freezing in the Martian night for long especially when the wind is blowing. As thin as it is, it can blow at tremendous velocity, sucking out your warmth.

Neither of them had a clear idea what to expect in the cave. They knew that some Chinese material was in there. The Chinese had tried to set up house in the cave before everything went wrong. The horrors of the alien blob stuff had lessened with the retelling. To be reasonable the Chinese had dwelt within the cave weeks before even sampling the alien cuisine and no evil had befallen them. The confession of the one had contained no hint of super powers, just the horrifying persistence of the life form itself. All the horrors they imagined might not be real. No ghouls or trolls only pathetic remains of a struggle might be all it contained. Husk even speculated that the Chinese who fled the the base camp could have been motivated by existential dread of the thing withing them rather than monsters in the cave. They both decided it was worth the risk to see for themselves. Still, they were not prepared for what they saw.

The wall built into the cave several feet within had the expected air lock, but it was wedged open by thick metal bars at both ends. The control lights were still on but the doors could not close. Perhaps those fleeing the cave wanted to dry out whatever was within. Husk and Bozo were careful not to kick the bars allowing the doors to shut on them. Husk provided Bozo with his usual running commentary. Bozo tolerated it because it seemed to be how Husk did much of his thinking. He did not want to discourage the habit because it was almost as useful as being a mind reader.

“This is a good sign. It means we can close the doors and maybe refill the cave dwelling with air.” The lights were still on. The scene withing was a mess but it did not arise to the horror they could have imagined. Especially considering the fact that they were both high functioning borderline personalities who didn’t feel the sufferings of others the way normal people do. There were blood spatter stains and other unknown stains, perhaps human excrement and vomit, or maybe from a food fight. It seemed that rather than a clean up the debris had been kicked aside so as not to trip people. In the back huddled in a corner there was a huddled pile of naked mummies in the fetal position. Many of them showed scares which could be the result of self reattachment ala Troll style. The guys were unfazed. They were relieved. The number of corpses corresponded to the known number of the Chinese crewmen. “Our first order of business should be to build an incinerator.”

Bozo added pointing at the object. “Look that large electric kiln has already been stripped of its inner fixtures. I think they made one for us.”

“Perhaps that triggered the final conflict.” Husk speculated. “I don’t think those guys are going to jump up and eat us. Let’s get to work.”

The first thing they did was move the corpses to a safer spot. They were in total rigor and desiccated, and weighted a fifth of what they should to an Earth man and both had been working out in an effort to keep muscle mass. The deposited the corpses in a room in the back end of the cave dwelling and sealed it off so that when they refilled the atmosphere there would be no untoward resurrection. They worked quickly and efficiently. The fetal position of the stiff corpse allowed each to fit neatly into the kiln. The incineration was finished well before the shadows fell. Of course Husk had a thought.

“We could stay in here. It holds air. The heater works. This might a better place to live than the module.”

“I think we should wait until we have explored the cave.” Bozo answered.

The next Martian day they explored the cave. The Chinese had already provided lighting suspended from the roof of the cave. The cave was clearly artificial, even the eons had not totally erased the evidence. The excavation marks were clear in any part where the surface had not been flaked away by quakes. Nothing catastrophic had happened during the intervening era of desolation. The cave was intact. The Chinaman’s account had been correct as far at it went. The alien skeletons were no great shock. The artifacts inexplicable. The alien spongiform detritus everywhere, except that a clear path had been swept clean by the meticulous Chinese. It was more like a tour than and exploration until they reached the end of the lighting. They peered into the darkness with their hand spotlights. It was essentially more of the same and continued on. They wondered how far in the Chinese had swept the floor.

“I think we should continue.” Husk suggested. “We have plenty of time left.”

“OK.” Answered Bozo. They continues into the depths. The ambient temperature increased noticeably. There was nothing new or startling until they came to an intersection. The cave branched at ninety degree angles up down right, left, and forward.

“OK, this is it.” Bozo said. From the look of it the Chinese had swept the floor in each of the other three horizontal directions, but there was no sign of how they had crossed. Perhaps those metal bars back in the dwelling had been part of  temporary bridge. They both speculated.

Neither of them wanted to continue the exploration. They could not find enough building material for a bridge. Maybe much of it was at the bottom of the vertical shaft. Their spotlights could not plumb its depth. They didn’t have a long enough rope either. They could have rigged some kind of swing, but neither of them felt that much confidence in his own athletic ability even in one fifth gravity. They had both been old and desk bound too long. They changed their focus to other projects.

To a normal person it might seem insane, but not to a couple of super high function borderline sociopaths. They planned the safest way to smuggle the desiccated alien spunge material back to Earth.

They had already discovered how to get back. The CMLM could be modified with one of the CMTM’s engines and all of its tanks. The mass to fuel ratio gave them plenty of leeway for course correction and maneuver. They wondered why the Chinese crew had not thought of such an obvious fix. It seemed to be built into the technology. They assumed the crew were just dutifully following orders because they had no choice, being dead men if the came home prematurely. Maybe the disaster struck before they could escape. The two Space Moguls could dock at the International Space Station. They didn’t have to smuggle much of the sponge stuff, just a tiny bit. It grew like crazy. Piss was its favorite fertilizer. They had plans, big plans. They would pool whatever was left of their fortunes and whatever they could, beg, borrow or steel. All other bets were off. They both intended to live forever, provided their research could crack the secrete of the Space Blob. Yes, that is what they called it.

They gave their new venture a name, inspired by what their former crews had called them behind their backs, Space Mogul Incorporated. They even debated the preferability of doing their work on the Moon.  All they had to do was beat their own ship home. They redoubled their efforts preparing the CMLM for launch, spending hours and days on the flight simulator program, modeling flight paths, planning trajectories. They had to do it as quickly as possible in order to make the required modifications. They had been spying on the CMTM using its own computer. They knew the MLM’s crew had been freed from quarantine. They knew from the inventory that all the necessary equipment was on board the CMTM to do the desired modifications. No one could stop them. Their long months marooned on Mars had prepared them for one inevitable conclusion, baring disaster, they would make it home.

The stage was set. The curtain was rising on a new era, if they made if home. The journey and its preparation were arduous, but they made it home. The two captains knew of their capture of the Chinese prize, but ordered the coms officers to maintain strict secrecy under threat of being spaced. Yes, exposing people you don’t like to the vacuum of space is a thing. It’s a great deterrent to mutiny and insubordination. Both of the captains were honorable and moral men, but they felt strongly about this issue. They had received extremely threatening communications from Earth indicating that the CMTM/CMLM combined ship, known in the intelligence community as the CS, would not be permitted to return. It would be eliminated with prejudice, as political psychopaths are fond of saying, even though no one talks that way. Anyone who leaked anything about the existence of the CS would receive the same treatment. The captains could tell when the Deep States had gone insane from a lifetime of experience. They intended to play it safe.

The CS made it back before the MTM. They made certain of that. Shooting the them down became unnecessary. The CS slipped in under the radar, over it, or around it. However you want to put it. The two space moguls had pulled a fast one. Very fast. They took a short cut around the Sun, a slingshot orbit. No one expected it and not one noticed until it was too late. They were expert publicists, or propagandists, or whatever you want to call it. They beamed a lasar message to a secure satellite under their control. The message unleashed a fanfare blast of announcements, wild stories of adventure and struggle and amazing escape from accidentally being left behind. No mention of Space Blob but they made up some silly story of the Chinese all dying of radiation poisoning because Peking had heartlessly forced them to mine radioactive elements etc., ad nauseam.  This campaign threw the CCP Central Committee into confusion long enough to delay the launch of interceptors at the CS until the opportunity had passed. No one was willing to divulged the existence of the Space Blob. The threat was both too fantastic to be believed and too terrifying to be divulged.

Thus, Spacy Mogul Incorporated issued its IPO, listed as S&M INC on the exchange. The revenge of the neurotic SJW has no limits. The decision was made by the exchange. Nothing either Husk or Bozo could say, no promises, threats, or appeals could alter it.

For unexplained reasons China closed its borders, recalled its merchant ships and its battle fleet, recalled all its essential personnel working on foreign building projects inexplicably stranding the rest without pay in foreign lands, locked down its borders, and shut down all communications with the outside world. It was a big blow to the markets but S&M INC seemed to be immune. The Moguls, as they were now known on the Dark Web, unleashed a devastating propaganda barrage aimed at China, declaring that their innate xenophobia had won out, that they were now and forever closed for business with the outside world. A few refugees escaped, but their horror stories about the new martial law were incoherent and made little sense. There was no sign of any offensive mobilization or increased threat of nuclear attack. On the contrary, some offensive air force systems were modified with a new defensive mission.  ICBMS were repurposed as stratospheric interceptors.

While other powers of Earth pondered and adjusted and reacted to the new situation with China, the primary focus of the entire fake news media apparatus was aimed at the Chinese enigma. Nothing, not one clue, no hint about the secrete research S&M INC conducted escaped the corporate of secrecy. Bozo had convinced Husk to contract the services of Mr. Price once more in spite of the fact that Husk had overcome his previous security measures. However, that had been a case of insider subversion. The butt boys had simultaneously transmitted the file to both Husk and Bozo before the jammer could be activated. Price had good instincts, Bozo, not so much.

China knew the big secret, but was not telling. Terror kept them in check for the time being. If Bozo and Husk knew what the Central Committee knew, the video and images they had received, things might have been different. The two might have been deterred. The mystery was what Price knew and why he went along with the deal.

Bozo and Husk took personal interest in the research. If truth be told it was all they were really interested in. Their friends and relatives could tell they had been permanently changed by their ordeal in space, but the two refused to discus it with anyone, ever. They didn’t hover over the researchers. No, they micromanaged them. They were there all the time. They seemed to have an uncanny ability to anticipate the results of the odd experiments they themselves suggested. The biologists correctly surmised that this foreknowledge was the result of experience or insider information but were exasperated that the two were playing it so close to the vest. The only thing that kept most of the biologists on the project was abject terror the moment each them realized what he was seeing, terror of the subject matter, the stuff, the Blog, and terror of the two obsessed bosses of what they would surely do to at the slightest sign of treachery or betrayal. Each of them had been personally screened by Price. His gaze was intimidating, heartless, hate filled. The ones who could not abide the gaze were not hired.

It became obvious to everyone but Bozo and Husk that Price was the true power behind the operation. The two had now clue because all they had eyes for was the Blob. Price showed them his kindest most fatherly exterior. The scientists all knew, but were too terrified to mention it, even to each other except by way of knowing glances and snide remarks. Instead of the Moguls the scientists dubbed them the Bobsy Twins behind their backs. It was funny because they looked and behaved nothing alike. If the pair noticed they shrugged it off, being accustomed from irrelevant smears from lesser mortals. They felt it was a silly price of their power over others.

The thing that pushed the research team over the edge was the touch test. Not a single one of them would touch the damned thing. Some of them raged and fumed. Some threatened to quit. One threatened to blow up the lab. Husk laughed in their faces. He could not keep his mouth shut.

“You pathetic fools. You have no idea what we have seen. The horror, the madness this thing can cause, but that fear is all inside of you. Your sniveling, your cringing, the thing absorbs it. It feeds upon it. In itself it is nothing. It is a reflection of you and nothing else. Get a grip on yourselves. Calm the fuck down.”

Mr. Husk almost never swore or cursed or used any sort of foul or offensive language, therefore the impact was all the greater. He shamed them. They were stunned into silence. Then he did a complete reversal on his and Bozo’s agreed policy. He spoke a little truth and a couple of whoppers.

“This thing is more ancient than humanity itself. The cave where it was preserved predates the loss of Martian atmosphere. Those Chinese had no clue what it was. The fools actually ate the stuff. Apparently they really will eat just about anything. But this thing was found draped on the exoskeletons of alien bug men. Would you eat that? Of course not. All we have to do is behave sensibly and cautiously and we will have nothing to fear. This thing was not indigenous to Mars. It was brought there by the alien bug men. They were also alien to Mars. They brought it on their bodies. They used it as clothing. Some of the Chinese successfully used it as pressure suits, before lost their minds and killed each other. That happened as a result of their foolish mistake. Don’t eat the stuff. It’s clothing not food. It is not deadly to the touch, only when taken internally.”

He did something else unexpected. “Are you fellows relaxed now? Are you all in the proper frame of mind?”

They all looked back at him stone faced. He then extended his hand the the Blob sample. He touched it with his index finger. He stroked it a little, like it was a kitten. It didn’t purr, of course, but it did wiggle a little. He drew away his hand. “See? It doesn’t bite.”

Bozo interrupted his little show and tell. “Elion, would you please speak to me in private.”

That was the first time he had ever addressed Husk by his first name. The two retired to the connected sound proof office and closed the door.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Bozo asked him in a calm voice. “I thought we agreed.”

“Yes. Surely, but we are not making any progress. You know I was correct in my suppositions. If we forced the Blob on some involuntary subject who is not in on all the process and all the things you and I know, it will do wrong again. The Blob can’t handle it. It will go haywire again. This creature was not intended to be used by us. Think of it as training an animal. If you treat a dog improperly it goes insane. It becomes vicious. The analogy is not perfect. It’s not a one to one relationship, but you know there is something to what I am saying.”

“Alright,” Bozo was skeptical but mostly convinced by Husk’s argument. He knew he did not want to touch the thing, but if Husk was willing to experiment, so be it. “You really should be cautious with this line of research. Be cautious. We can’t afford a single mistake.”