by Jerry Aubin
Zax reevaluated the information icons within his field of vision and one caught his attention. It was an eyeball, which seemed to suggest there might be a way for Zax to see things from the vehicle’s perspective. He thought about what it would be like to look out the windshield of the vehicle, but nothing happened. That wasn’t entirely accurate. There was a slight shimmer in his vision and Zax experienced the strangest sensation in his body. It reminded him of the feeling he got sometimes when he desperately needed to sneeze but couldn’t. Zax closed his eyes and tried again.
WHOOSH! The sensation was like nothing Zax had ever experienced and he involuntarily exclaimed, “Whoa!” It felt like he zoomed down a tunnel at near lightspeed only to find himself looking through the vehicle’s front window at the end of it. Zax wondered if his outburst caught the instructor’s attention but didn’t want to open his eyes and risk losing the view from the vehicle’s perspective. It had run up against a wall so Zax backed it up and adjusted course.
Left turn—right turn—dead end—back up—try again.
Dead end—try again.
Dead end—try again.
The maze was more challenging without the overhead view he enjoyed before the vehicle entered the box, but Zax didn’t mind the fits and starts. They provided opportunities to adapt his mind to working from a new and entirely crazy vantage point. His body was outside the maze, but the Plug did an amazing job of forcing his brain to think he was piloting the tiny vehicle from the inside.
Zax guessed he was nearing the end of the maze when the vehicle entered a long straightaway similar to the one it had traversed immediately before entering the box. He paused the vehicle for a moment when he noticed something different about the maze’s floor directly ahead of it. The floor in earlier portions of the maze was the same color as the walls and ceiling, but in the stretch ahead it glowed a bright red. Zax was convinced he was heading the correct way so he moved forward, albeit slowly.
The vehicle’s tires crossed into the red portion of the floor, and Zax immediately noticed his feet getting warmer. The heat reached a painful intensity a sec later and his eyes shot open in a panic.
“Ouch!”
Zax looked down to investigate. The pain had disappeared immediately along with his view out the front of the vehicle’s window. His feet appeared perfectly normal. Zax glanced over and saw the instructor smiling.
“Don’t worry—everyone reacts the same way which is what makes this my favorite part of the session. There are a couple of key lessons you need to take away from this section of the maze, cadet. First, you clearly noticed the floor immediately before the exit is heated. The purpose of this is to illustrate how sensory information you experience via your Plug is not limited to visuals. If you are connected to something which can transmit sound, then you will hear sound. Here, the vehicle was configured to transmit the temperature encountered by its wheels, and you experienced heat on your feet. It was not true physical pain, of course, but the Plug convinced your brain otherwise. With practice, you’ll learn to tolerate this ‘phantom pain’ in order to use it for informational purposes without suffering the emotional response you just experienced.”
The instructor grinned even more broadly and continued. “The other thing to understand is how the sensory data you experienced went away the instant you opened your eyes. This is to be expected at your age and with your level of Plug experience. The most challenging part of using your implant is forcing your body’s sensory information into the background so you can focus on whatever input is coming from your Plug. This ability is greatly enhanced by removing visual stimulation, which is why you often see even advanced folks close their eyes if they are trying to do something particularly difficult via their Plug.”
The instructor looked back down at his slate. “Your elapsed time for a first trip through the maze was better than average, but you need to make it through a lot faster before I can sign off and say you’re fully cleared to use your Plug. Let’s get the vehicle set up at the beginning again.”
CHAPTER FIVE
You eat it.
Zax left the Plug training with a bounce in his step having been given final clearance to use his Plug to fully interact with the Ship’s systems. His excitement quickly faded, however, once he thought about the day’s next destination. Zax’s work in Waste Systems might become slightly more interesting now that he could take full advantage of his Plug’s capabilities, but he didn’t hold out much hope. Final Plug activation was a nice milestone, but Zax regretfully concluded it was most likely meaningless given his current career status.
He had even more time to ponder how much he hated his job when the trip to Waste Systems took longer than expected. Tube service between the start and end points of his journey was available but was routed in a way that added 5 mins to his trip. The Crew who managed the Tube had become quite adept at modifying routings quickly in response to the civilian disruptions. It only took one instance of an Omega being killed when she unknowingly emerged from a Tube junction into the middle of rampaging civilians that riot avoidance become a critical mission for the service’s operators.
Zax tried to push aside his frustrations as he arrived on station. He was grateful for the boring hours at work which provided time to pursue other interests, but nonetheless felt the typical pangs of regret when he thought back to the thrills of his prior job in Flight Ops. Compared to that nerve center with one massive panorama that looked into space and another that commanded a view of the bustling flight deck, the windowless confines of the Waste Systems operations center provided all the excitement of a maintenance closet. There were only two other Crew assigned to the department, and he spoke to the first as he sat down at his terminal.
“Good morning, ma’am. Anything special you need me to do today?”
Lieutenant Salmea was Zax’s direct supervisor. He had concluded that she must have arrived at the bottom of the heap thanks to chronic indifference. She once again lived up (down?) to this assessment by keeping her dull gray eyes fixed on her slate as she remained slumped in her seat and barely managed a shrug in response.
Zax next turned to check whether the hatch to Westerick’s office was open. Major Westerick held the title of department chief. Zax hadn’t experienced enough direct interactions with the man to ascertain whether it was too much incompetence or too little intelligence which had saddled him with such a hideous assignment. The days when Westerick had ventured out of his office in the year since Zax had arrived could be counted on one hand.
Before Zax could dive into more work on his flight simulator, he paused to greet Imair as she entered the compartment. A civilian who was somewhere in her late forties, Imair wore her mousy brown hair in a short bob that was as indistinctly efficient as the manner in which she did her job. Her small stature and quiet demeanor allowed her to fade into the background. It was only Zax’s careful observations of the civilian workers’ behavior patterns that revealed her position atop their unofficial hierarchy. If she was bothered by having to show deference to a Crew member a third her age, she kept it hidden as she addressed him.
“Good morning, sir. I’m sorry to interrupt your work, but we’re stuck with something and hoped you might be able to provide some guidance.”
“Sure thing, Imair. Lead the way.”
Zax stood and followed the civilian out of the clean and well-lit operations compartment and then down the series of ladders which provided access to the Waste Systems work areas. As they descended deeper, the surroundings became progressively more dim and filthy. He had eventually become acclimated to the nasal reminders of what Waste Systems dealt with, but the omnipresent scent of human waste in the lower levels could still trigger Zax’s gag reflex once in a while. His trips into the work areas always provided a stark reminder of just how far his career had fallen.
Imair was about to lead Zax through a hatch into the maintenance hub when a young, high-pitched voice called out with a level of cheery enthusiasm that belied
the grim environment.
“Hello, sir!”
Nolly bolted down the passageway towards them. The eight-year-old civilian was practically swimming in a mismatched uniform riddled with rips and smeared with filth. The boy skidded to a halt and brushed his shaggy blonde hair out of his eyes as he looked up at Zax with a big grin.
“Hey, Nolly. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Zax reached into his pocket and pulled out the apple he had taken from the mess hall. He held it out to the boy who appraised it with a confused look.
“What is it, sir?”
Zax was momentarily taken aback. It had been surprising enough when the boy had shared a few days earlier how he had never eaten a piece of fruit, but to learn he didn’t even recognize an apple when held in front of him was positively shocking.
“Umm, it’s an apple—a piece of fruit. You eat it. Take a bite.”
The boy took the apple and gave it a small, tentative nibble. Nolly’s expression transformed from apprehension to pure joy. Two huge bites followed in quick succession after which he used the heel of his palm to wipe the resultant chin drippings back into his mouth.
Zax smiled at the boy’s exuberance and swiveled to Imair, curious as to whether she shared his appreciation. She wasn’t looking at Nolly but instead had fixed her gaze on Zax with what appeared to be bewilderment. As Zax turned to her, Imair’s expression switched almost instantly back to neutral and she addressed the young civilian.
“Put that in your pocket, Nolly, and go find someplace where you can finish it without anyone seeing you. When you get into the middle, there are going to be tough, stringy pieces and hard, black things called seeds. You can eat those bits if you choose, but they won’t taste nearly as good as the outer portion.”
The boy bolted, but before disappearing around the corner he looked back over his shoulder and shouted. “Thank you, sir!”
Imair turned and walked through the hatch. Zax followed being sure to scan his eyes all around as he entered the compartment. Mikedo’s lesson during his Marine training about gaining immediate awareness of new surroundings had stuck with Zax. A group of civilians huddled around a display. They looked up as Imair approached, and the lone male in the group spoke.
“We’ve continued to troubleshoot, but we just can’t figure out where the fault is coming from.”
Imair turned back to Zax. “Sir, the system keeps reporting a fault we can’t resolve. We’ve even tried resetting the whole module, but nothing has worked. We’re hoping you might have some ideas.”
“I bet you’ve focused on the subsystems in compartment 50-H in trying to sort this out,” Zax offered after a quick look at the display. “This circuit is unique because it has a special offshoot which leads into 51-F as well. Let’s go take a look there.”
Zax exited the compartment and Imair spoke as she caught up. “Must be nice to just use your Plug to access the schematics and get an answer so quickly. We’ve had a team of five racking our brains for eighty-nine mins, and you just walk in and solve it after seventeen secs.”
“I actually didn’t use my Plug,” Zax replied. “I studied all of the Waste Systems schematics when I first started here. That circuit stood out as an oddball since it was the only one that splits the way it does. I figured one day it would cause an issue like this, and it looks like I was right.”
For the second time in a few mins, Zax felt like he had perplexed Imair based on her facial expression. “You mean, you’ve committed the entire system to memory?”
“I don’t know about the whole system,” Zax grinned, “but hopefully I’ve managed to remember the most interesting bits.”
Zax halted at a small access port, but Imair kept walking without noticing. She quickly realized, stopped, and looked back at him.
“Sir, we need to keep going this way to get to 51-F.”
“Yes, that’s the best route if we want to stick to the main passageways and ladders. The fastest route, though, is to use the maintenance network. There’s a laddered shaft that will let us get up to 51 and the tunnels between here and there are almost entirely walkable. There is one four meter stretch where we’ll have to crawl, but even factoring that in this should still save us 156 secs of travel time.” Zax smiled. “Well—it will save us that travel time as long as you trust me and don’t stop to question every turn we take.”
Imair stared at him impassively for a moment before she spoke. “My apologies, sir. Let me guess—you’ve memorized the routing of all the maintenance tunnels too.”
“At least the interesting ones.” Zax replied as he opened the port.
CHAPTER SIX
Why the apple?
Imair dutifully followed Zax in silence as he led her through a series of tunnels and eventually back through the main passageway until they reached compartment 51-F. She watched over his shoulder as he removed an access panel and got to work.
The relay which Zax suspected was misfiring displayed the same aura the small vehicle had during his Plug training. He focused on the device and was excited to be presented with a series of options including one that allowed him to see the inside of it as if it was transparent. After a few mins of poking around he announced his findings.
“Well—this time I did actually use my Plug and confirmed we’ve got a misfiring relay here. I think I’ve got it successfully recalibrated, so let’s have your team reset the system and see what happens.”
Imair walked across the room, lifted a communicator off the bulkhead, and passed along Zax’s instructions. She put the communicator back down after a moment of listening to the response.
“I’m sorry, sir, but the reset cycle on that circuit takes 321 secs. Would you mind waiting with me to see whether it’s really fixed?”
“Not a problem. I’ve got a short piece of reading to do, so I’m going to focus on my Plug while we wait.”
Zax had been reading for 148 secs when Imair’s voice drew his attention. He was so taken aback by a civilian having the temerity to interrupt him that he didn’t initially comprehend what she said and was forced to ask that she repeat herself.
“Why the apple?”
He was momentarily stumped but deciphered she must be asking about his gift to Nolly. “Why not?”
“I’m sorry, sir, we just don’t typically experience acts of kindness from members of the Crew. Most of you treat us like interchangeable cogs. In fact, I would be shocked if Lieutenant Salmea even knows my name.”
Zax thought for a few moments before replying. “We had been talking a few days earlier, and Nolly mentioned he had never eaten a piece of fruit. I was reminded of it when I walked by a pile of apples in the Crew mess earlier, so I grabbed one for him to try.”
Imair stared at him for a few uncomfortably long beats before she answered. “All the same, sir, I would respectfully request that you not do anything like that again. He’s so young and I don’t want him to get any wrong ideas—about food availability or about what kind of behavior he should expect from Crew he interacts with.”
“What’s the big deal about one apple, Imair?”
“Sir, do you know how long it’s been since there has been any fruit available in the civilian mess? I wasn’t that much older than you are now the last time I ate an apple.”
Zax was stumped for a reply. Imair had no reason to concoct a story like this, but her words made no sense. He couldn’t begin to count the number of times he had thrown away some random piece of fruit he had decided he didn’t actually want after taking one bite. How could there not be enough fruit to go around if there was enough for the Crew to waste? He was trying to figure out a coherent response when Imair laughed and spoke again.
“Look at your gears grinding, sir. It appears you may have a misfiring relay of your own. You folks in the Crew really don’t have the slightest clue what our lives are like, do you, sir?”
“How could we, Imair?” Zax was exasperated and felt no compunction to hide it. “Most of us don’t ever get a chan
ce to interact with civilians directly. I’ve been able to over the past year only because I’ve been stuck working here, but even then I can’t get anyone to actually talk with me about anything. It’s clear you civilians don’t like the Crew very much, but no one will give me the slightest hint as to why. Any questions I ask generally end the conversation.”
Imair stared at him thoughtfully for a while before finally speaking. “Honestly addressing questions about sensitive topics is a great way for a civilian to find herself on the short list to being Culled, sir. The fact you can’t comprehend that is just further evidence of how huge the divide really is. You seem like you’re genuinely interested, though, and I hope we have an opportunity at some point soon for you to gain the understanding you seek.”
The communicator buzzed and Imair strode back to where it was mounted on the bulkhead. She answered and then listened for a few moments before thanking the person on the other end and placing the communicator back down. “I’m sorry, sir, but the fault is still present after the reset.”
Zax wanted to forget about the relay and keep talking about the fruit and other areas of civilian life, but Imair’s tone of voice had shifted back to pure business. He filed away their conversation for further investigation later and closed his eyes to check something via his Plug. “I guess we’ll just have to replace that relay altogether, but I can’t find a new one in stock anywhere nearby. Let me reach out to Major Westerick and see if he knows where to find one.”
Zax turned away from Imair to focus on his Plug, and after a moment the Major responded to Zax’s ping.
“What?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but I’m in compartment 51-F and we have diagnosed a faulty relay. I’ve checked the stocks, and I can’t find a replacement for it anywhere. Do you have any suggestions for where I might be able to track down another one?”