by Adam Drake
Suddenly, the world shook and my vision tilted. When the shaking passed, I blinked in surprise and looked about. No one else reacted to the violent movement. Then it happened again, and I nearly pitched over. To my horror, I realized the shaking wasn't happening in the game.
A red warning message appeared on my screen. The station AI was demanding my presence immediately. Something had gone wrong with the station move.
Shocked, I quickly ran onto the airship, brushing past passengers. My mind raced. I had to log off, and quick. Looking for a safe place, I ran down into the hold and climbed through its stacks of crates.
The red warning message flashed angrily, and it wouldn't allow me to dismiss it. This was bad. This was really bad.
Finally, I found a large trunk in the back, half full of clockwork parts. I climbed inside and closed the lid above me.
As my vision shook again, and the station AI resorted to feeding a ringing alarm into my ear phones, I had only one thought as I quickly logged off.
Whatever it was that was happening in the real world, it better not mess up my chance at the Shadow Blade!
CHAPTER FOUR
As I pulled off my visor, I was assaulted by trilling alarm bells, and flashing red lights on the walls of my office.
Through the viewport I could see the jagged horizon of Callisto which had changed dramatically since I'd last looked only a few hours earlier. The scheduled move had taken place, but appeared to have hit a problem.
As if to emphasis it, the room shook again, and I was yanked around in my simulation suit's suspension cords.
“Wow,” I said. That can't be good. As I hurriedly slipped off my suit I called out to the station's AI. “Abe, what's going on?”
“The station has encountered a fissure which has destabilized section fourteen to eighteen,” a male voice said from everywhere and nowhere. The AI sounded incredibly calm, all considered, but it was programmed to be that way.
Free of my suit, I rushed to the workstation's terminal in the corner. Its screen showed an overlay of the massive station, which had the appearance of an octopus with fat, spiky tentacles.
Sections of several of the tentacles, referred to as arms, were flashing red. Scanning the data, it looked like several structural breeches had rendered parts of the station inoperable.
“This looks bad, Abe. What happened?”
“As the station transited over the rock plain toward Theta Point Eight, a tremor occurred. The strata beneath cracked open, pulling several sections apart.”
The overlay showed the outline of the fissure which snaked under four of the station's arms.
Cold fear ran up my spine. “Abe, can we move away from the fissure? Are we at risk of falling in?”
“Unknown at this time. I'm working to reinforce the damaged areas before making an attempt to move.”
I stared at the screen in horror, envisioning the huge station plummeting into the dark Jovian crevasse. Feeling hopeless, I asked, “So what can I do to help?”
“Nothing. But I am required to advise you to exit the station immediately. If the fissure worsens the station could be lost.”
Leave the station? I looked back out at the cold, dark wasteland of Callisto with trepidation. In the entire time I'd been here, I'd never once suited up and gone outside. There hadn't been a need to. Until now.
Without thought, my eyes went to the simulation suit, hanging by its cords in the corner. What about the game?
Another quake, this one minor, shook some sense into me. “Okay, Abe. Get me out of here. What should I do?”
“Follow the main hallway down to the central radial, then descend to Drone Bay 6. Please use the stairs as the elevators are too risky at this time.”
“Drone bay? What about the escape shuttles?” I was already moving down the hallway.
“Unless a complete failure of the station is imminent, use of the shuttles is not authorized per your contract clause 186 point 25, sub-paragraph nine.”
“You mean I have to be on the verge of death to fly out of here?” I reached the outer radial at the center of the station and ran down a wide spiral staircase.
“Escape shuttles are expensive property of IceTech Industries and are only meant to be used in times of catastrophic danger.”
Another quake sent me crashing into a wall, and I fell down several steps. I sat up in a daze. “This isn't catastrophic enough?” Pushing myself to my feet, I kept going.
“No, it is not,” Abe said, not bothering to elaborate. His voice was pleasant but business-like. “Please continue to the Drone Bay 6.”
“I am!” I said, reaching the station's lowest level and running down another hallway. Several wide doors lined the walls with signs of the various bays.
I entered the door marked Drone Bay 6. Inside was a small room with several chunky space suits hanging on the wall to one side. On the other was a wide viewport showing the main drone concourse. Dozens of drones were zipping about in all directions; diggers, loaders, trucks, analyzers. Their variety was almost unlimited, depending on the needs of the station.
Not wanting to be told, I began shoving myself into one of the suits. It felt like a giant, puffy sleeping bag crammed inside a bulky exoskeleton.
“How much air does this thing have?” I said as the tinted helmet automatically attached itself with a click. A loud hissing sound indicated pressurization.
“More than enough,” Abe said. “Please don't worry.”
“I am worried, Abe, this is scary as all hell!” I said. Unlike the fear I'd felt sometimes in the game, this was all too real to the point of being overwhelming.
“You'll be fine if you follow my instructions,” Abe said. “Please approach the side airlock.”
A small door was set into the wall marked Airlock 6. As I stood in front of it, my helmet panel blinked to life. I could see my air reserves and it didn't look great. But I held my tongue and tried to calm my nerves. Abe wouldn't let me die.
A horn blared and the airlock's inner door slid open revealing a tiny room.
“Please enter the airlock,” Abe said.
“Shouldn't I grab a reserve canister?” I said looking for a small rectangular blue box. Weren't there supposed to be extras near the suits?
“That will not be needed. Now please enter the airlock.”
Another shake practically sent me flying inside. The inner door slid shut, and I leaned against a wall. My heart was pounding in my ears and my breath was rapid and deep.
“Please calm yourself, Vivian,” Abe said. “You may cause yourself to faint and I would be unable to assist you if that happened.”
“Easy for you to say,” I said, but I made an effort to slow my breathing. A hard job to do when you're about to step out into a radioactive nightmare.
Jupiter was a radiation belching monster that bathed its moons with the deadly energy. Being tidally locked, the side of Callisto that faced away from the planet was where Icetech and other companies conducted their operations. Although not being directly hit, there was still plenty of deadly radiation on this side of the moon. The station protected me from that. But now I was about to leave that protection.
“Once you are outside, there will be a digger waiting for you. Please enter its crew cabin on the left side.”
“Wait? A drone? Shouldn't I be using a buggy? They're designed for people, ya know!”
“That is only one of the buggy's functions. Currently, all are being used to help with the repairs. This digger is all I can provide at this time.”
Damn. The diggers used to be controlled by a crew years ago before full automation made their jobs redundant. Diggers were not known for their comfort.
“What about the gravity?” I asked. The station's grav-plates easily simulated a one G pull. But once I stepped outside, I'd be bouncing along with a tiny fraction of that.
“You'll be fine, Vivian. Now please, prepare for depressurization.”
A light flashed within the airlock, and a wa
rning sound beeped from my helmet's chin-deck. I grabbed a handle on the wall and braced.
The was a loud hissing which quickly faded, and I knew there wasn't any air left anywhere around me except in my suit. Then the outer door slid open, revealing a rocky, icy landscape.
“Where's the digger?” I asked, hesitant to step out.
“It's parked to your right. Please exit the airlock.”
Sighing in exasperation, I stepped outside. Immediately to my right, parked within a recess in the station's lower bulkhead, was a digger drone. The huge array of claws and metal teeth on its front reminded me of some kind of mutant dragon.
I moved toward it. The change in gravity was immediate, causing me to slow my pace. It felt like a swarm of butterflies were bouncing inside my stomach.
Reaching the digger, I noticed a line of handles up its side, leading to a port door. It was at least two stories high. Cursing my suits bulk, I climbed. “What's the status?” I asked, while slowly ascending.
“Nominal at the moment. The fissure appears to have ceased expanding, but that could only be temporary.”
Finally reaching the port, Abe triggered it open, and I climbed inside. As the door silently closed behind me I took in my new surroundings. Several high-back chairs and a darkened console amounted to all the exciting detail of the tiny space.
“Okay, now what?” It felt like I was in an abandoned shuttlecraft from decades past.
“Please connect your suit to the joint valve at the bottom of the console. That is the air supply.”
I found the valve, but had to sit in one of the chairs to connect it. In moments a green light flashed on my chin-deck indicating a fresh supply of air was now circulating through my suit.
The digger suddenly jolted into motion, and drove a short distance from the station, then stopped.
With the air connected, I felt relieved and leaned back. “Okay. Done. Now what?”
“Now you must wait while I continue with the repairs.”
I sat up in my chair. The Emerald Caldera! Quickly calling up a chronometer, I linked to my UFW account and queried how long before I had to meet Shwenn and her group.
It showed a little over twelve hours to go. I began to get nervous.
“Abe, how long will the repairs take?”
“I do not have an accurate estimate at this time, but I am working at maximum capacity.”
“So it could take, say, more than twelve hours?”
“That is a distinct possibility.”
I blanched. I couldn't miss the meetup. There was one particular restriction about the Emerald Caldera. Once an individual has both statues in his or her possession, they must activate the instance no later than two hours after sunrise the next morning. Which was why Shwenn wanted to meet when she did. The meetup was scheduled for three hours before the deadline, giving us time to reach the instance's gate. But if I didn't show up, the Emerald Caldera would lock us out for an entire year.
“Abe, when can I return to the station? I mean, I know it might not be fully repaired, but I'd still like to go back as soon as possible.”
“I don't know, at the moment, Vivian. But I will inform you when it is safe.”
“Please do so the second it is, please.”
“I will.”
I could only hope that I'd be able to log back in with time to spare. With nothing else to do, I leaned back in my chair and waited. Every minute felt like an hour, and I had to cancel the chronometer so I didn't have to see the seconds slowly pass.
My mind raced with all the terrible outcomes of my not being there to activate the instance, none of which were pretty. All the work I'd put into getting to this point would be wasted. Worse, I'd have to wait a full year before getting another chance.
The only positive was that even if we didn't use the statues now, I was linked to one of them and would still be needed as part of the next group going in. But I didn't want to wait that long.
Counting away the seconds in the cockpit was agonizing, and my nerves became fried. Part of my mind questioned why I'd be more concerned about an event in a game, than I was with the safety of the station. But I pushed those thoughts away. The station was out of my control. I was only an observer. In the game, I was a participant.
Cursing myself, I checked the chronometer again. Ten and a half hours to go before the meetup. There was no way I was going to stay sane waiting out that entire duration.
Sighing, I decided to use my suit's sleep inducement to pass the time and told Abe to wake me when the station was safe. Then I activated the sleep mode in my helmet and instantly drifted away.
I dreamt of falling through a giant fissure while frantically pressing at a Teleport Token. But the Token wouldn't activate, and I fell, and fell, and fell.
CHAPTER FIVE
I woke to a buzzing noise in my ears.
Sitting bolt upright, I blinked in confusion and looked around. The cockpit of the digger was the same. The only thing that had changed was the angle of the distant sunlight passing through its tinted view ports.
“You are awake?” Abe said.
“Yeah,” I said trying to shake the cobwebs of sleep away. “What's happened? Is the station okay?”
“The situation has stabilized. I've managed to pull the station back from the fissure and am now continuing with repairs.”
“Oh, thank God!” I said, and meant it. “Okay, can I return now?”
“I believe so, but please realize that some of the station's areas will be depressurized and inaccessible for a time.”
Despite the pleasant warmth of my suit, I felt an icy shiver. “What about my work station?” And my simulation suit.
There was a slight pause, then Abe said, “I have just activated the atmosphere in that section. It may still be advisable to remain where you are until all repairs have been completed. But you may return whenever you wish.”
I pulled up the chronometer, again. In red lettering it said -00:21.
I was twenty-one minutes late!
“I wish to go now!” I said, trying to stand, but my connection to the air valve yanked me back down. Mumbling curses I disconnected and went to the port door.
“Please wait a moment while I bring the digger closer to the airlock.”
Why couldn't it have done this before? I thought to myself, watching the time tick away. Hanging onto the port handle I quivered with anticipation. I knew I was in trouble. Big trouble.
“Come on, come on,” I mumbled to myself.
The digger backed up to its alcove in the bulkhead, and once the engine stopped a light on the port door blinked green. I pushed the door open, but the strange bulk of the suit made me pitch over and tumble out.
As I fell, grabbed onto the edge of the port's frame, my faceplate scraping against the digger's hull.
“Vivian, are you okay?”
I hastily grabbed onto the top rung and got my booted feet onto another. Taking a few seconds to calm my heart, I said, “Yup. Never been better.”
“Please be careful, Vivian. There is no rush. The station isn't going anywhere for a while.”
Descending the ladder, I almost laughed. The station wasn't what I was worried about. I was late for the single most important gaming instance since... Well, the last single most important gaming instance I participated in. But I was still late.
Reaching the ground, I ran to the airlock door, which meant I loped along under the low gravity.
As I practically flew toward the airlock, I said, “Open the airlock!”
“But you're not there y-.”
“Open it now!”
“Very well.”
The airlock door slide open just as I skidded to a stop, nearly falling over again. I scrambled inside and Abe closed it behind me.
I began to yank at my suit's helmet when a red light flashed on my chin-deck.
“Vivian, you cannot exit your suit until the airlock is pressurized.”
The chronometer kept counting, -00:26.
“Then do it!”
The airlock fully pressurized, and the second my chin-deck flashed green, I pulled my helmet off.
“It is recommended to remove your suit once you are actually inside the station.”
“Well, this is a new rule,” I said, tugging off the suit arms. The inner airlock door slide open revealing the suit staging area.