storming tyrannis

a short story i wrote for a competition. incorrect grammar intentional

The stars are still specks in space.

We've been travelling for 12 years — past the Moon, Mars, Jupiter, Neptune — watching stars shift imperceptibly. Earth is now just a distant memory, a reminder of the world we left. At first, the isolation was almost too much. All of us have families at home — families we left with promises to return; except, those promises could be hollow. Now, those feelings have faded to background music. We have each other, and the problems that we considered important back then, back there, don't matter as much. In minutes turned hours, we will be the first people to step foot on another planet. We will be famous.

Being famous can't make up for the fear that we may never see our family again — and that's all we can think about. The recon spacecraft we sent ahead reported unusual activity, and then nothing more. It was too late by then. We may be immortalised as those who nearly made it to another planet. The mission that failed.

It's frightening to be remembered for what you didn't achieve.

I must get a hold of myself.

I move to the window to glimpse another world.

Tyrannis is blue, purple, green. Swirling mists of white speckle across the atmosphere. It's beautiful, if someone who hasn't touched grass in twelve years can be an accurate judge of beauty. It's a planet with vague signs of danger that I want to disregard because the sirens in my head tell me to. The unexpected planet. The first planet humans will walk on.

“Distance to target is now 20 kilometres and closing.”

It’s a big first.

“T-minus 60 seconds to touchdown.”

It will be OK. Everything will go as planned.

“We are in final descent. Engines are firing.”

I pull the harness straps around me and try not to think, but thinking is all I can do.

“Touchdown confirmed. The spacecraft has landed safely.”

We are in another world; everything is different: gravity, people — none, and I should feel something, fear, panic, terror, joy, despair something but nothing is different from the years we spent hurtling through space: we're still strapped to our seats, still gazing on vast infinites that we cannot comprehend except except except the infinity I cannot comprehend now is not an infinity anymore, it's the surface of a planet and I. Have. To. Shut. My. Emotions. D. O. W. N.

The checks go on. It'll be two hours before we can leave.

—

“You are go for surface EVA.”

I'm the first person to step on Tyrannis. It's only a little larger than Earth, so gravity isn’t much different.

I speak — the first voice on an alien planet.

“Tyrannis base, surface contact confirmed. Humanity has landed.”

My boots sink into the whitish soil. Out of the corner of my eye, I detect movement. Behind me, the rest of the crew silently file out. The flash of movement comes again, this time, to my right and I'm not shocked I knew this would happen when has Life ever been this easy? we're going to die I never should have left home oh no oh no oh no get. A. Hold. Of. Yourself.

“All units hold position. Possible surface anomaly, bearing 090,” I speak into my mic, as calmly as possible, and I don't know where this calmness comes from I must have plucked this fruit off a tree but I can't eat it so I'm not calm and I still have to F. O. C. U. S.

There's a chance we won't survive this.

A creature advances.

It's vaguely humanoid, with pin straight hair falling to its knees. Its face is an assortment of human features, but horrifically inhuman. Eyes uneven, nose tilted, mouth wide open, stained purple. Oh no no no we have guns its defenceless please don't kill us.

“Crew, form perimeter. Do not advance. Defensive posture. Aim center mass, safeties off. Do not fire,” I order. I have to control myself. But
fear overpowers — suddenly, all my childhood games of pretend alien invasions seem inappropriate why did I ever wish this could happen. Things like these did not need to make contact with humanity.

The alien speaks in the tongue I grew up with and I can feel myself slipping into that void where emotions go when humans leave and I don't want to but the alien is speaking F. O. C. U. S. “Why have you landed on our planet?” Wind whips its hair around and its body gleams silver.
“Tyrannis base, verbal contact established. Recording in progress,” I say, still shocked, shocked my mouth is working, shocked my brain can tell my mouth to speak. “We mean no harm. We are on a space exploratory mission. Can you understand me?” I'm begging all the gods for this to a dream but that's unlikely I hope these aliens are friendly.

The alien blinks one eye and it's still inhuman, still... robotic. “You are a threat,” it adds.

“Crew, be alert. Potential threat located. Tyrannis base, alien has identified us as a threat. Recording all visuals and comms,”

The alien stretches out its hands and something red shoots at us. We are thrown against the spacecraft.

“All units, fire! Alien has initiated violent procedures. I repeat, fire!” Grey, vice commander, manages to pluck the words that swirling around my brain and yell them out loud.

Bangs. Loud bangs. We've all fired at once. The creature falls.

Elena volunteers to inspect, her breaths loud as she advances.

“It — it’s a robot.”

“Tyrannis base, alien is neutralised. Returning to spacecraft,” I gesture to the rest of the crew.

The second we step foot inside, the craft shoots up, throwing us all to the floor.

Jace is swearing, Elena is screaming, Grey is trying to get to the main console. I can’t move.

A robotic voice sounds throughout the craft; how they managed to do that is beyond me. “You are a threat,” it says in perfect English. “You
must go. We will destroy this craft.”

“WE ARE GOING! LEAVE US ALONE!” Grey’s screams get me back to my senses.

“Initiate engines. Tyrannis base, we have left Tyrannis. Trajectory set for Earth.”

I'm rocking silently in a corner, and I can't see the rest of them but I know they're there from the sobs that I hear coming from Jace, from the hushed whispers Elene offers him, from the quiet stream of talk Grey lets out while he gives a report to the base.

I can't move.

—


We step foot on Earth. All of us are 25 years older, 25 years of life gone.

Tyrannis, planet of storms, is inhabited by robots. We don’t know what that means, nor what will happen in the future — but we do know this.

We. Will. Not. Surrender. To. Machines.

Life will go on, but in the background, a storm brews.

Planet of storms, here we come.