by Brett Bam
Suddenly this freedom to soar seemed petty and insignificant in comparison to that power outside. I realise that they would do anything to have me back. Back in the tank, back in the otherplace, with that thing down my throat and their intentions in my mind. The abyss yawns beneath my feet and terror takes hold of my heart. I allow it to rule supreme for a quick moment before I force the fear back, like swallowing bile. I regain control of myself. The adrenalin rush produced from the fear surges through me, revitalising me. I lift my virtual head and snarl a virtual snarl. If they want me, they will pay dearly for me. They will not hurt me again. The star of inbound information glimmered and I felt it focus on me. The approaching threat looks at me, seeing me clearly in spite of where I am, deep in this stone hole. New determination running through me, I turn back to my body and with a rushing inhalation I plunge back into the physical, and time quickens…
I stand from the bed, throwing aside the light covers, and I walk to the elevator doors. I’m aware of the security detail far above watching me on the sensors and I flick them what passes for a rude gesture in this part of space. Their tiny spark of emotion far above, resounding in the otherplace, is extremely satisfying. I walk to the doors, allowing them to watch exactly what I do, and place my hand just above the control pad.
In the real, I focus and charge my attention on the pad, and the power signatures I see begin to flow and change, coagulating and spreading. The power suddenly surges and bursts, and a shower of sparks rains across me in the physical and in the real. The elevator doors screech open under the protest of counter hydraulics, and the shaft is open before me, as black as the abyss. I hear the security system activate in the shaft, and turn my back on it, walking into the centre of the cell and looking up. Above me is the emergency decompression safety gear, all nicely sealed in a hatch in the ceiling; until the emergency beacons release the bundle of kit. It releases now as the alarms start sounding. I catch the bundle as it falls and quickly tear it open, looking for the pressure suit and its small attached cylinder of compressed air. I find it and quickly undo the straps that link it to the exposure suit. The pressure gauge shows full as
I activate the suit and inflate it.
And then I hear the water.
Water is the most valuable resource in the Solar System. Trade in water was trade in life. In space, water was everything. With it you could do anything. Needless to say, the system-wide war of control over the transportation of water had severe effects on the Gamaridian Cluster, leading them to store a great deal of it. They, like most of the places in the system, needed to import their water over immense distances, and any break in the chain meant a long period of water rationing for every person in the chamber. A mark of the asteroid’s wealth was the size of its deposit of water. Gamaridia currently purchased its water from the Rommel Corporation and stored it in the endcap sea. Its size, and largesse, was a flagrant display of the wealth enjoyed by the Gamaridian Group. Unknown to the average citizen was the fact that the sea was not the sole water store. They also had a series of large wells drilled into the skin of the asteroid. They snaked through the rock along strata, encased in concrete and connected through buried conduits to the river which flowed across the chamber. In places the river fell across the landscape in strange waterfalls that never fell straight down but curved along the centripetal force. In other places it roared in thick harsh rapids, and in still others it lay still and calm, fringed with trees and lawns and tiny fishing piers. It went through the city and supplied the asteroid with much of its electricity via massive hydro electric stations. It was priceless, it was life to millions, it was currency to billions, and it was freedom to Kulen De Sol.
The elevator shaft linking the cell to the interior of the asteroid was the only way out that didn’t involve drilling through hundreds of metres of solid rock, except for the water inlet at the top of the elevator shaft. This chamber had once been used for water storage. There was a small grate which hid a valve. When Kulen popped the elevator doors the emergency containment system activated. The valve opened and the spin of the asteroid’s gravity poured tons of water from a nearby storage well into the gaping hole. It thundered through the open doors, and, with a tremendous roar of power, picked Kulen up and flung him against the far wall of the cell. The water ripped up everything not firmly fixed down, and flung it at high speed across the cell in a maelstrom of rushing chaos. Most of the air in the space was purged, and thrust in a torrent of massive bubbles to the top of the shaft.
I hold my breath and think of the only other time I was immersed in this amazing conglomeration of matter. The more I feel of it the more wonderful it seems to me. Even though I expect it, the swirl of water is far too powerful to fight against. It flings my limbs outward in the direction of the rush, and I feel myself cartwheel in the current, waiting for the inevitable impact. I am blind in the sudden darkness, but I feel the furniture sweeping through the water around me. I can feel the flow and its disruptions tingle on my skin, and I twist just in time to dodge the food dispenser as it ricochets off the wall.
I will not panic. The swirl is slowing now, and I feel that I am in the centre of the cell. Above me is a frenzied patch of silver, churning with the water’s spin. Trapped air! I boost upwards and stroke through the thick mass of liquid. The water twists and turns and pulls at me as I swim up. But, finally, I reach the small bubble held against the roof and manage to take a shuddering breath. I have dropped the inflated exposure suit, and for a small second panic stabs at me. Then the suit bobs up next to me in a stream of bubbles. I wrestle with the suit for a moment before getting a solid grip. Then I take a huge breath and swim downwards, tugging the too buoyant suit with me. In a strange turnaround of perspective, I make my way as quickly as possible across the ceiling of the cell and towards the elevator doors. I slip through them, pulling the suit into the shaft after me, and then the suit takes care of the rest. It immediately pulls upward, and as I rise I tighten my hold. The speed of the ascent leaves a thick wake of bubbles behind me. The air in the suit begins to inflate as we rise inside the shaft, speeding the ascent and making it harder to hold. The air in my lungs expands too, and I have to exhale slowly as we rise further and the pressure eases constantly. My ears pop as expanding air in my sinuses and ear canals swells toward escape. Four hundred metres, straight up.
The ascent continues for a long time. My breath burns in my chest, and the need to exhale fully and reload with a fresh breath is becoming more and more urgent by the second.
Then suddenly, without warning, I break the surface and my velocity carries me out to my knees before I fall back into the foaming water.
The shaft still stretches into the darkness above me. The water has not filled the shaft, and I realise that if it had I would have drowned. The elevator runs along rails in the wall as it ascends and descends, I swim to the rail fixed to the smooth rock surface of the shaft and use it to begin my ascent.
I face another climb out of a black pit and into an unsure future, another escape, and the beginning of another run from the Protocol.
Kedesh Jericho stared in amazement at the holo display as Kulen De Sol flashed his fingers at the sensor and then shorted the elevator controls by touching the control pad. Several alarms beeped.
“Quick! The emergency measures! Cancel them!”
The GASD agent in front of the monitors controls shrugged his shoulders.
“He’s shorted our system, dropped us from the grid. I’ve shut down, but it’ll take another 30 seconds to re-access. Nothing I can do. Sorry.”
“He’ll be killed.”
The four men listened in stunned silence to the roar of water rushing into the shaft underneath them. As soon as they had the grid, Jericho activated the sensors again, but for several minutes, all they saw was swirling water. What a disaster. They waited the allotted time and when the system reset they confirmed their suspicions. The cell was flooded. The boy was undoubtedly dead.
“Open the doors, drai
n the shaft.”
He turned and strode towards the elevator doors. They opened and he climbed into the elevator, drawing his hand weapon and triggering the charge. It whined into inaudibility as it powered up. Two of the guards joined him, also setting the charge on their weapons as the doors slid shut.
They reached the bottom and the doors opened. The place was a mess, broken furniture was everywhere, large puddles covered the floor and the ceiling dripped, the lights had gone out so he was forced to use his beam application on his weapon at low frequency to illuminate the darkness. He watched as the last of the water drained out of the cell. He scanned the interior three times without finding a body, strange. He toggled his comm set, “Agent Jacobs, can you scan the room for thermal traces? There’s no sign of his body.” There was no answer, also strange.
“Uh-oh.”
At the top of the shaft the system had suddenly crashed again, Agent Jacobs was actually waving his hand through the holo as if beating the image would help. Blue lined static was the only transmission he was receiving. There was no answer on the comms set either. What the hellfire should he do now? Everyone was below and he was here alone.
He heard a metallic shriek behind him. In the silence of the control room the noise was sudden and violent. Jacobs jumped to his feet and spun around in fright.
The elevator doors were opening. A hand reached through, and then an arm. It was wet and wore the simple white sleeve of the incarcerated.
“Oh shit!” He toggled his comm and shouted into it.
“He’s up here! He’s up here!” still, no answer.
Kulen De Sol stepped through the mangled elevator doors and smiled.
“No need to shout, they can’t hear you.”
Jacobs got nothing but static in reply. He pulled his weapon and put his finger to the trigger.
“No. Wait. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to hurt you. Stop!” Kulen’s words came out in a rush, and he held his hands up to show that he had no weapon. Jacobs didn’t care, this wasn’t a man. This thing was dangerous, and Jacobs was scared and alone. He brought the gun to bear, aiming at the convict’s head. No risk of missing at this range, he pulled the trigger.
A shower of sparks erupted from his gun as the computer in the chamber malfunctioned and shorted the charger. Jacobs threw the weapon as far as he could and dived behind his console as the explosive rounds triggered one at a time, filling the control room with flying lead and smoke. When quiet descended again he stood swiftly and looked through the grime filled space. There was no sign of Kulen De Sol.
My journey across the city under rock was uneventful. I called a taxi to myself and sat slumped in the back seat as the automated vehicle screened the windows and travelled undisturbed down the length of the Spiral Highway. I can still feel that massive vortex of energy coming nearer. I watch as it docks and links with the asteroid’s system. The Protocol pours into the asteroid like water into a cup, filling the cybernetic space quickly and efficiently. Its presence washes over the taxi, which continues on unaffected, like a bubble rising through a current. I am as quiet as I can possibly be, hiding like I am afraid. And then I realise that I am not afraid. I see this presence totally. I perceive everything it is doing. It is searching for me with a sure efficiency. Soon enough it will find this taxi. The simple lack of data from it will pinpoint my location. It will find me eventually by looking at what it can't see, by finding the blank spot. I had best strike before that happens. I feel for the wind and feel it stir in my hand and rise to ruffle my hair. I watch as the Protocol searches and I see something it does not. I see a man sitting in the warship which brought him here. He is sitting and not doing anything. I look closer and see that he looks just like my father, just like me, except his hair is white. His eyes are dull and his skin is pale, but those features are my own, or will be as I age. It is another one like me, another soul trapped and corrupted by the Protocol. I feel sympathy for him, an affinity, perhaps he knew my father in some small way. Perhaps in some small way he is my father. The same blood runs through our veins, that much is obvious. I make a decision and alter the course of the vehicle. I will save this man as I could not save Marcos, I close my eyes and search for and find his name. Lutho, his name is Lutho Vol Max.
Lutho Vol Max was the only human on board the Protocol ship. He did not suffer from loneliness or boredom as most humans would have on an extended trip in space. He had no function on board other than to liaise with the human authority on Gamaridia. He sat silent and still, not moving, not thinking, barely breathing. Like a tool, stored safely until needed. Like Marcos De Sol, he had been controlled and manipulated by the Protocol for the entire length of his life. Unlike Marcos, he was not gifted with a great intellect, his genetic markers had strayed too far from the strict course demanded, and as such was far less useful to the Protocol. It was far less forgiving with his mind as well. He was unused to having thoughts of his own, merely doing the bidding of the machine in his mind. He felt a part of a great mechanism with many parts, of which he was only a small piece. The thoughts of freedom that plagued Marcos and freed Kulen had never crossed the small part of Lutho’s mind that was still his. He would not understand the concept if it were presented to him. He was a broken man, which made him a perfect machines tool. The ship buzzed around him. Its environment, like every other one he had ever been in, was sterile and empty of decoration. All the life and purpose flowing through the ship and the mind of the man within was artificial in nature. He was aware in some small way of what it was he was doing here. He understood that he had a mission and he knew what it was, but that was all irrelevant to him. When his mouth opened to speak, the words were not his. When his body moved, the impulses were sent from the otherplace, that strange shimmering thing he could hear softly calling. All he had was the voices and the impulses more real than the real world around him. He could feel the Protocol’s presence flowing through the ship, manipulating it, flying it across the gulf between worlds to this place. He could feel that energy flowing through his body too, directing his every move. Lutho Vol Max watched his life pass by from behind his own eyes without ever lifting a finger to disturb that perfect flow of reason and power all around him.
He was at peace. Ignorant bliss indeed.
And then suddenly it was gone. All of it. All sight, all sound. He was plunged into a great blackness. He started in fright and moved in his seat. He shifted forward and dropped his hand to the arm of the couch. The physical sensation reassured him momentarily, but then he whimpered. The sound of his own voice echoing pathetically into the dark terrified him. The voices and the impulses were gone. At first, he felt as if a great weight was lifted from somewhere deep inside him, but the sensation increased until he felt like he was falling. Panic gripped him and he screamed. He was alone and it was terrible. He would die! Where was the Protocol? This was just like before, when the Kulen had come.
You will not die, Lutho Vol Max.
Lutho heard the voice speaking and calmed down immediately. But, wait, it was speaking to him. The voices had never done that before, never looked at the spark of life that was Lutho Vol Max and acknowledged him as sentient.
“Wh… what?” Again, the sound of his voice, so small and weak, terrified him.
I have come to set you free, Lutho.
This was not many voices speaking as one. This was one voice, a boy’s voice, light and easy.
“Wh… where are you?”
I’m right over here Lutho.
The lights flicked on suddenly and Lutho was forced to cover his eyes and shield them from the unexpected glare. Slowly they adjusted and Lutho lowered his hands. A young human boy stood in the centre of the room, amongst machines that had hummed with activity moments before but lay ominously silent now. A young human with rainbow eyes.
“It’s you.”
Yes, it’s me Lutho.
“Where is it?”
It’s gone Lutho. You are free.
“What do you mean
it’s gone? It can’t be, it’s in here with me all the time.” He tapped his head as he said this to emphasise his words, as if by tapping he could start the voices again.
I’ve taken it away Lutho. It will never bother you again. You can come with me if you like. I’ll take you away to a place where the Protocol will never find you.
“Never?” He looked horrified, and Kulen frowned, confused.
Lutho began to scream. His face contorted into a mask of terror and he glared at Kulen with a white-hot hatred that spurned his limbs to movement. He rushed at Kulen, hands raised like claws before him, screaming as he came.
Lutho’s reaction catches me completely off guard. How can he not grasp at the chance of rescue from the morbidity of this life? He rushes at me like a wild animal and the violence in his eyes and the glaring orange hatred pours into his aura from his mouth as he screams. Unbelieving, I stand my ground as he comes, and the reality of it only hits me when his hands are wrapped around my throat. We fall to the deck with him on top of me, his shrill mouth sounding centimetres from my face. His spittle rains on me with the force of his yell and I close my eyes and turn my head away from the assault on my senses. He is strengthened with terror, and as he squeezes my breath away he begins to shake me up and down, knocking my head against the deck. As soon as I am dazed, the Protocol reasserts itself into the ship, flooding in with a force that purges my senses from its systems. Lutho stopped screaming as soon as the energy from the otherplace swamped his thoughts.