The Gate

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The Gate Page 9

by Jennifer N Hibbert

The hall was the height of a two-storey building, without the dividing floors, leaving it open from the ground to the ceiling. There were two cylindrical glass tubes, which were the simulators. They stood apart at the far corners of the room facing each other. Around these structures’ corners were computer operating stations. Rows of seats flanked both sides of the door with lines of changing rooms for males and females. Facing these were two large tables stacked with overalls. Rogers’ two assistants were standing behind the tables.

  ‘Everybody, before we start, when you hear your name, go to the table and collect your overalls, helmet, knee and elbow pads and, of course, your magnetic gloves. These are essential for this exercise.’

  ‘Are males and females getting the same type?’ asked Morgan, looking at Koi.

  ‘I think the overalls must be unisex. You never know, maybe they’ve been made to measure. After all, they’ve done the same with our clothes,’ Koi explained.

  ‘That’s right, they must have done because they all looks the same to me, except for the sizes,’ Morgan replied.

  Shortly afterwards they were suited and ready. The middle of the room was empty to allow access to the simulators, which operated like a simulated microgravity, or an indoor skydiving simulation. Although the simulator was shaped like a cylinder, it contained four rails placed close to the middle, one meter and fifty-three cm from its glass walls. Attached to the rails by a hook was a long metal pole fixed to a giant fishing net. The rails, which were two meters and fourteen cm long by one meter twenty-two cm tall, were fastened to the ground on two poles, each bolted to the ground. The migrants were all fascinated, looking around before they heard Rogers’ voice again.

  ‘As with all our exercises, you are required to split into two groups. However, on this occasion we are looking for the team that works best together, as opposed to the team that finishes first. I need four people from each team to volunteer to learn how to operate the machines.’ Eight people stepped forward.

  ‘Very well, four of you follow each of my assistants to the machine,’ Rogers said, pointing to the corners where the assistants waited. ‘They will show you how to operate the machines. During the game they will assist you with any questions you may have. Two people will operate the machine at any given time and will swap at some stage to allow the other two individuals to participate. Everyone in the group will take turns to complete the game.

  ‘Now here’s how it works. I know most of you are dying to find out why we have a giant fishing net and a metal rail fastened to the ground. The four rails indicate that the maximum number of players is four, and the minimum is two. This is a microgravity simulator, meaning there’s very little gravity when it is in full operation. The idea is to experience and master how to deal with the weightlessness you will encounter in your new city on Mars. The speed of high wind could play a role, as well as the reduced gravitation pull from what you are used to here on earth.’

  The machines were built to counter gravity and allow weightlessness. Four participants stood at the start of the rail, as though about to go for a walk.

  ‘Assuming you suddenly felt weightless, which is one of the things that is likely to happen in your new city, you grab hold of the metal rails. The gloves you are wearing are magnetic and will help you to hold fast and maintain your balance. Be sure to steady yourself before trying to help someone else. Once you’ve steadied yourself, use your dominant hand to get a good grip. Unhook the net and use it to fish for any of your team members who have been swept off their feet. If there are none, you can fish for any floating objects. The issues regarding any floating objects may apply at a later date in your new city. So, for the purpose of this exercise, we will not concern ourselves with those now.

  ‘Once the simulator starts, there will suddenly be reduced gravity and the feeling of weightlessness will encompass the participants. If anyone is not aware of it in time, it will sweep the person off their feet and they will float.’

  Rogers’ eyes rested on the question-riddled faces in the crowd. ‘Does everyone understand what I’ve explained so far?’ Before they could answer, he added, ‘If you don’t understand all that, don’t worry. I and one of my assistants and two volunteers from the group will test it out to show you. My other assistant will mind the machine.’ He pointed at the computer station beside the simulators.

  Just then, a young man who was showing a group of four migrants how to use the machines left and moved to the front and joined Rogers.

  ‘You, over there,’ Rogers called, pointing at Martin. ‘You look like a courageous individual. Please join us to illustrate the theory.’

  Martin was surprised; he looked at his friends before stepping to the front.

  ‘Did you understand what I was explaining?’ Rogers asked, facing Martin.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Martin replied.

  Morgan prodded Koi and Chris; they nodded their heads and grinned broadly at Martin, who was looking at them joylessly. He shrugged his shoulders and made a face, raising his eyebrows before looking away.

  ‘Okay, we need another volunteer and we will be on our way,’ Rogers said.

  A few people raised their hands expecting to be picked, but Rogers selected Carrol. She was terrified yet she walked to the front, looking steadily at the ground. Everyone stared in surprise and some even gasped. They remembered how Carrol could not jump a single hurdle and they feared what would happen to her in the simulator.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Rogers asked. Before she could answer, he continued, ‘Don’t worry, it’s not as scary as it looks.’ She looked up with barely a smile and then looked away.

  Rogers, who was already dressed in overalls, collected a pair of gloves from his assistant and put them on. He opened the huge simulator door and the four of them stepped inside. They walked forward and stood in front of the metal railings.

  As soon as Carrol was in front of her rail, she grabbed hold of it, pressing her body tightly against the bar. The simulator started and she staggered a little before sliding her body slightly and using one of her feet to anchor herself to the pole that was supporting the railing. Some people were clapping and cheering for her, while others cringed in fear.

  In no time Rogers, his assistant and Martin were all anchored to the railing; no one was floating. Their bodies felt weightless but they held on tight. After a few minutes, Rogers signalled to his assistant who let go of the railing and immediately started floating. Rogers grabbed hold of the net and started fishing for him. Martin soon joined in.

  The excited crowd looked on, chattering and laughing as they talked. Rogers and Martin soon brought the assistant down safely. Carrol never moved from her position. Once they all settled back down and holding fast to the railings, the simulator was switched off and they all came out.

  Martin beamed with excitement. Carrol walked to one of the seats and sat down; she adjusted her glasses, gazing at nothing.

  The migrants took turns to complete the training; most of them were giggling and shouting in excitement, as though they liked the feeling of weightlessness. Some let go of the rails on purpose to feel the thrill of floating. They were screaming and laughing. The fainthearted among them adopted Carrol’s style and anchored themselves to the bar as soon as they got in. As for those who floated off, their team members tried to rescue them and bring them safely to the ground. The ones who floated too high and could not be reached were left till the end. Then the simulator was placed on a low mode and the participants began to descend slowly until they reached the ground safely.

  The buzz in the room was electric. Most people were super-charged, chattering, shouting and moving from one place to another. Some had had so much fun that they asked Rogers if they could have another go. He readily agreed but warned them that everyone had to leave the hall by lunchtime and head to the canteen for something to eat.

  Later that day, at about four o clock, they assembled in the purpose-built street close to the simulator hall. The milling crowd looked around the stree
t until they saw Rogers walking towards them. When he was standing in front of them, he said, ‘Thank you all for coming. This evening we will be performing a drill on how to stay safe on Mars. This is a purpose-built street, a replica of your street on Mars. The reason we are having the drill today is because it’s the continuation of the exercise we had this morning. As you can see, the same railing system and giant fishing net continue out here. This is just a prop, as with most things here, like the tram box in the middle of the street,’ he said, pointing. ‘We cannot recreate the weather conditions on Mars here on Earth. That’s why we’ve decided to use the simulator to achieve something similar. In terms of physical resemblance, this is similar to what you will see out there.’

  ‘I wonder what that does?’ Martin whispered to Koi, pointing at a shower head. ‘We’re not going to have a shower here, are we?’ he asked with a roguish wink above a jesting smile.

  ‘I don’t know. Don’t ask me, ask him,’ Koi answered irritably, stepping back a little. Koi had some of his own questions about what was in front of them, which had not received an answer. His response subdued Martin and he flipped his gaze to something else for distraction.

  Rogers saw them and the impatient faces of the other migrants who wanted to know what the shower head was used for. ‘By the way, this shower head . . .’ Once he mentioned it, they turned towards him but continued to speak among themselves.

  ‘This is a sprinkler and has nothing to do with our exercise today.’ Silence fell over the group. ‘Because your new city is a dry terrain, the sprinkler is used to combat the dust that could blanket it for days. As for the loudspeakers mounted on the poles, these will announce any sudden weather changes and the levels of the windstorms while you are out and about in your new city. Look over there,’ he said, pointing at some bungalow-type houses dotted around on both sides of the street. ‘These are safe houses and we will be dealing with those today. In your city, if you hear the siren from these loudspeakers, you must leave whatever you are doing and run inside the nearest safe house. Once there, you are expected to help any of your fellow migrants who are still struggling – if you are in a position to do so. In other words, protect yourself first before helping anyone else. However, remember that the survival of your group will depend on teamwork. Everyone, follow me,’ he instructed and walked towards a safe house.

  The door was open and led into a large room with rows of seats. One of the walls had a wooden shelf containing gas masks and magnetic gloves in case anyone had left their own gloves at home. There were drinking-water stations in the corners and rows of toilets for both sexes at the back of the room. A loudspeaker was mounted on the wall facing the entrance to transmit information from the organisers; it would let the migrants know when the adverse weather had settled.

  When everyone in Rogers’ team was inside the room he said, ‘This is what a safe house looks like inside. All the essentials you need for one to two hours’ stay are provided; they should last until you are safely transferred to your house, where you will be more secure, or until the weather improves.

  ‘When we leave here, you will walk along the street doing whatever you’d usually do. When you hear the siren, locate a safe house and enter it within one minute; the whole street should be empty in just one minute. You should then wait for further instructions. The camera attached to the safe houses will help us determine who completed the drill in good time. Any questions?’ Nobody said anything. ‘Excellent. You are dismissed until we gather again at the end of the drill.’

  Some of the migrants rushed towards the shelves and meddled with the gas masks and the other items on the shelves. Martin and his friends joined them to check out the awesome stuff. Some people shot straight through the door, while others stood, staring dumbly.

  Martin and his group walked along the street, talking and laughing. After thirty minutes, they looked at each other than at the other people wandering aimlessly. Nobody dared to voice it until suddenly Monica sighed. ‘I never knew that walking around could be so boring,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, my goodness. I’m glad I’m not the only one that feels that way. If I have to walk along this street one more time, I swear I will gouge my eyes out. I can’t stand watching all these people wandering around aimlessly,’ Morgan said.

  ‘Yeah, I used to like going for a walk until now,’ Martin said.

  ‘Guys, that’s a bit excessive. It’s not that bad. Look, everyone else is having fun. Just put your mind to it and you’ll see it’s not that bad,’ Koi explained.

  ‘Well, it’s not the walking that is boring. I’m guessing that waiting for the drill siren makes it boring,’ Chris explained. A silence fell.

  Martin’s eyes raked past the tram box in the middle of the tracks and he drew a shuddering breath of disappointment. ‘Brilliant . . . isn’t it just brilliant?’ he blurted out, pointing at the tram box. ‘The only thing that looks slightly interesting in this whole exercise turned out to be wreckage or a prop.’

  ‘I agree with you. I would have loved to go inside one of these, at least ride it up and down the street,’ said Morgan.

  ‘Is that thing even open?’ asked Chris.

  ‘No. Down there, when no one was watching, I yanked on one of the doors and it wouldn’t open. Rogers said it was welded shut,’ Martin explained. Then it was as though a light bulb went on inside Martin’s head. ‘Guys, I know the solution to this problem. Let's go back to Stallion House, use our tokens to buy beer, bring it here and have a picnic,’ he suggested.

  ‘Yeah, let’s go,’ yelled Morgan.

  ‘Guys, no, we are going to get into trouble,’ reasoned Koi.

  They stood for a moment, gave it a thought and soon squashed his reasoning.

  ‘Why? We are not breaking any laws. Rogers said we should be doing what we would usually do on a normal walk. I say we do it,’ Martin protested.

  ‘You’re right, Martin.’ Morgan’s eyes widened. ‘I say we do it; that’s what we would normally do, if we were going for a walk, right?’

  ‘Okay, I think one of us should run to Stallion House, get all our tokens, buy some beer from the machine and run back here. The rest of us should remain in front of this safe house,’ Martin suggested, pointing at the house in front of them. ‘That way, when the person returns, he’ll simply walk back here. If the siren goes, we will all enter the safe house without anyone being late.’

  Everyone was quiet for a second then they all nodded in agreement. Monica said nothing; she stifled a yawn and moved closer to Chris.

  Martin volunteered to get the beer. He collected Monica and Chris’s key and sped off to Stallion House. He went to their room, collected their tokens and dashed off downstairs, where he collected the tokens in his own room. He hurried to the reception area, collected seven beers in total and rushed off to the purpose-built street.

  Just as he reached the simulator hall, the siren blared very loudly. He started running fast and joined his gang as they were entering the safe house. He just made it. His group were beaming broadly. They sat in a corner of the room and started drinking the beer while listening to the announcements from the loudspeaker.

  The other people in the safe house saw them drinking beer and cast surprised looks at them. Some of the older people threw frowns, while some looked on with envy. One couple muttered strange words under their breath.

  Martin and his gang seemed not to care how the others felt about their brilliant idea of getting some beer; instead, they wore a satisfied look of victory. They talked and laughed, paying no attention to the eyes that constantly returned to their corner as though judging them.

  Suddenly there was an announcement. ‘Attention, all migrants, we hope you had a refreshing walk around our purpose-built street. Thank you for participating in this exercise. I’m happy to announce that you all made it to the safe houses in good time. Well done. You may now return to your houses or carry on enjoying the outdoors. Thank you.’

  The moment the announcement stopped,
there was a mad rush towards the exit; perhaps some of the other migrants couldn’t wait to return to Stallion House and have a stiff drink. Martin and his gang were not the only ones who’d found this exercise boring.

  Some of the migrants left the street but Martin and his friends sat outside drinking their beers. When they returned to Stallion House, they stayed in the reception area and had more drinks until dinner time, when they went to the canteen for something to eat.

  *

  Over the weekend there was no training for the migrants; they were allowed to spend their time as they chose, though they could not leave the camp. During breakfast on Saturday morning, Koi did not dispute the idea when Martin and the rest agreed to go to the camp’s makeshift discotheque later that night.

  After lunch, the boys returned to their room for a rest but first spent some time chatting and laughing. When Koi woke up, he saw that the other two boys still asleep. He was gripped by anxiety when he remembered that they were going to the disco later. The memory of what had happened when he went to his high-school graduation dance flooded his mind like it was yesterday. He was embarrassed thinking about how he had stepped onto the dance floor and done his best moves. That was when he’d seen a group of boys and girls with their heads together, laughing. He’d quickly left the dance floor and gone home. Since that day, he’d never set foot on a dance floor.

  Koi lay thinking about the disco, imagining what would happen if a beautiful girl walked up to him and asked him to dance. He would love that. He cherished the thought for a moment but his mind soon flashed back to reality. He didn’t have the courage to speak to a girl and the thought of a girl asking him to dance made him break out in a hot sweat.

  After looking at Martin and Morgan, who were fast asleep, he got up quietly and sneaked into the toilet. Making the least noise he could, he tried to practise the moves he’d been learning and after a while he was carried away in the moment. He nearly passed out when he saw a reflection in the mirror. It was Martin, gawking through the gap in the loo door.

 

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