We approach the lab where the beacon is emanating from. The bottom floor is almost entirely glass. Pressed up against the glass are dozens, maybe even hundreds of grubs. There’s no way we can get inside the building with them all trapped in there. We’ll need to get them out somehow. The only options I can see are somehow pushing the doors in so they can open up, or find some way to smash the glass.

“I have a grenade,” Marshall offers up.

“Why did you bring a grenade?”

“Never know when a grenade might be good.”

“We should find a place up high, and shoot some holes in the glass so it breaks easier. Toss the grenade, set them free and kill a few.”

“Pick off a few of the slow movers,” Marshall shrugs. “Could be like old times, we see who scores the most.”

We settle on a fire escape across the street from the lab, Marshall climbs up first sensing my hesitation. I was afraid he might just yank me down and kill me in revenge, but he’s put it behind him pretty quickly. Either he really is sorry, or he just doesn’t hold grudges. Even if I did put a gun in his face, he doesn’t seem to be letting that bother him.

We fire a few shots at the glass creating some cracks and getting the grubs attention. They press themselves against it, spreading the cracks eager to get free. They’re not smart enough to know where the shots were coming from, but there’s stimuli coming from that direction and it’s enough for them since they make most of their movements based on instinct. I cover my ears as Marshall tosses the grenade down.

My ears still ring from being near the explosion. Portions of grubs are blasted backwards. It doesn’t stop the others from crawling over them for freedom. Marshall attaches the scope to his rifle and begins to pick off those that make their way out. I follow suit and take aim at those that I think are moving too fast. There’s no way we can get them all, but the others are spreading out, going their own ways unsure of what to follow or even why they were trapped down there.

“Twenty-two, twenty-three,” Marshall counts out loud as he picks off the grubs.

I’m not counting, I’m more focused on the pain in my eye each time my rifle recoils. It’s not any different than usual but my entire face is tender to the touch from the punches Marshall gave me. He’s probably not feeling any of the punches I gave him, but hopefully he remembers I’ve shot him on four different occasions now.

“Final count forty-seven,” Marshall brags.

“I got forty-four, you win,” I pick a random number, let’s just hope he doesn’t feel like counting corpses.

We wait nearly an hour before we’re sure that majority of the grubs are gone. Inside we pick off a few more. We’re fast enough that they don’t get a chance to become aggressive. The actual lobby building looks like any other federation building. The architecture around here is Revrell but the inside has gotten a makeover courtesy of the Galactic Federation. Checking out a map of the building, and it’s clear this place worked as not just labs, but the government building for the entire colony. The upper floors probably have records of everyone who lived here. It’ll be good just to have some kind of information about who may be lost or missing if we ever need to go searching. The labs are downstairs and they look to be extensive. Almost an entirely different building built beneath this, I can only imagine the amount of information down below.

Marshall presses the button to call the elevator as I try to see if there’s any data I can gain access to from this lobby, but everything seems to be locked down. There’s slight bell as the elevator arrives followed by a gunshot. I look over to Marshall who’s stepping to the side as a dead grub fall from the elevator. I sigh and join him in the elevator heading down below.

“Look at us, handling this like two seasoned veterans,” Marshall smiles but I don’t respond. “I thought I was going to kill you this morning,” he pauses when I look at him. “Then I was absolutely positive you were going to kill me,” he laughs. “Look at us now.”

“Are you still drunk from last night?”

“No, just glad this is almost over.”

“Sorry about the whole gun thing,” I feel like I should apologize, he’s been the bigger man about this whole thing.

“It’s not the first time someone with the same goal has pulled a gun on me. First time I thought someone might really do it. I was being an asshole. I don’t know if I deserved to get shot in the armpit, but I was an asshole.”

“Sorry about the gunshot.”

“Sorry about all the punches, this morning, and before.”

“Can we just stop apologizing. Neither of us has been ourselves lately.”

“With good reason,” Marshall makes a good point. “We good?”

“As good as we can be.”

“This is a really long elevator ride.”

There’s a slight bell sound, symbolizing the end of our ride downwards.