Episode 3
=== USER 6545198 NOW CONNECTED TO HIDDEN SERVER “Spring” ===
=== ENTER PRIVATE ENCRYPTION KEY FOR MESSAGE OPERATIONS ===
--- Private Encryption Key: ************************* ---
=== PRIVATE ENCRYPTION KEY ACCEPTED ===
=== MESSAGING OPERATIONS INITIATED ===
--- USER 6545198: Are you on today? ---
---< its been 30 cycles, are you ready to pump >---
--- USER 6545198: Finally, I didn’t know when you were getting back on. ---
---< i said. are you ready. to pump >---
--- USER 6545198: What? Not yet, you gave me forty cycles and that was a rush job. ---
---< how much longer. dont hama this up >---
--- USER 6545198: Give me ten more cycles. It will be forty like we agreed. >---
---< and then you will do what >---
--- USER 6545198: Pump the water from the original cavern into the replacement cavern? Isn’t that the plan? ---
---< just making sure you remembered >---
---**---
..
=== USER 6545198 DISCONNECTED ===
=== AWAITING COMMAND ===
Light drops of rain floated gently to the ground, barely splashing upon metal and glass alike. Fog ambled between buildings. The fog was alive, colorful from the lit signs of restaurants, fermstills, v-clubs, and stores. The fog meandered through the Equatorial Sector, everpresent, its only obstacle the skywalks that sliced through the misty air. E-Sector was one of illusion, of obscured reality. Building corners jutted from walls of fog. Skywalks led to places unseen. Lights were birthed and silenced by shifting mist. The sun, the planets, and the stars were all myths, undiscoverable mysteries beyond the opaque ceiling of humid clouds. The mist, heavy and thick, pressed down upon the sector. Yet perhaps more tangible was the heavy feeling of frightful individualism, for as one was enveloped by the fog, they were finally lost to the unblinking lenses of society.
A few came to E-Sec for that false sense of isolation. A few more came for an alternative to nanobots, hoping the cool humid air would cure the ailment they could not afford to treat. But most came to enjoy a sector cultivated for those who desire obscurity. Trying to track someone through the mist was so impossible, Planetary didn’t even try.
It was also impossible to get lost. Walk continually in one direction and the skywalk will eventually lead to another building, replete with everything one can ask for: food, drink, entertainment, vice, transportation. It was, however, very possible to lose oneself once inside. And that is precisely what Relcheir intended to do.
Technically, Relcheir wasn’t allowed to consume ferments, distills, or vapors, or he wouldn’t be allowed to work at the manufacturing plant. But his performance rarely noticeably suffered, and there was no benefit to exceeding mandates. Therefore, he didn’t care about the manufacturing laws. Relcheir survived in the Founding. He felt alive in Sector E.
As he stepped off the walkway through a dark glass door, his shoulders relaxed. His chin raised. He sighed. Relcheir didn’t look around for side exits. He didn’t size up those around him. He didn’t instinctively feel for his infrared scarf. He did tap his pocket to make sure the fake ID chip was still there, but anticipation was the motivation, not caution.
Time to get fucking loose
Relcheir consciously recognized the figurative weight that fell off his shoulders, and allowed himself a smile. He tapped a small button on his wrist, and silently mouthed a message to his earpiece.
“Andret, I’m here. Which fermstill are you at?” Relcheir casually walked to a shop window, and admired the conductive sleeve on display. He knew the response would be coming soon. Andret didn’t have many friends.
Andret’s sloppy voice appeared in Relcheir’s ear. “Ayyyyyyy, Relchman, I decided to get the party started a lil’ early.”
Apparently
“I’m at First Landing. Want me to order you something?”
Relcheir glanced toward the signals on a wall behind him. He was 3 skywalks from the fermstill. “Yea, dealer’s choice. Be there in a hundred.” Relcheir spun on his heel, observed his surroundings out of habit, and set off a brisk pace.
Andret is… annoying. Why do I keep agreeing to drink with him
Better than drinking alone
Relcheir shrugged at his own thoughts.
Must be nice not to have to work all the time
It seems he drinks instead of work… he’s going to die early if he doesn’t cut back
Relcheir came to an unfamiliar intersection in the promenade, stepped to the side so as not to be in the way of others, and connected his cyberneural to the building’s AI.
“Direct me to First Landing.” His jaw barely moved, his words silent. Relcheir saw the proper skywalk, and strode forward once more.
Fifty fucking fermstills and he wants to keep going back to the same one
First Landing Fermstill, named in honor of Lehen being the first colonized body in the system, was a caricature of historical space travel. Large metal doors, ferments served in rounded helmets, distills served in airtight pouches. Holograms of the stars were projected on the ceiling. It was not an unpopular place to be. Relcheir slid into the booth across from Andret, who was too busy watching a holovid to notice.
“WHERE’S my drink?” Relcheir startled Andret with his loud first word, and smiled.
“Oh! Hey Relch! Uh…” Andret looked down at the table, as if the ferment would suddenly appear in front of him. “I guess they haven’t brought it over yet.” Andret turned. “Hey! Hey server! Where’s my ferment?”
Most businesses had automated service. Computers and machines were always quicker and more accurate than humans, and time is an invaluable and limited resource. But people didn’t come to First Landing if they were in a hurry. Besides, face to face interaction was a part of the ambiance. The server paused by their table, and straightened his posture.
“Sorry, travellers of both space and time, don’t forget that time is relative in space.” Relcheir stared at the server. The server hesitated, then broke rank. “That’s just what I gotta say, you know company policy ‘n shit, I got you in a hundred.” He pressed a finger on the correct ferment option on his orderpad, and left the table.
Relcheir turned back to Andret. “So, Andret, what venture have you embarked upon recently?” He leaned forward with genuine interest. Even if what Andret told him wasn’t fully accurate, it would at least be entertaining.
“Well, not me this time, you know, but my parents heard a rumor…” Andret trailed off.
“Okay…and?” Relcheir was unfamiliar with asking Andret to continue speaking.
“Well it’s pretty crazy,” Andret looked side to side as if to check for eavesdroppers. He didn’t pause long enough in either direction to actually notice who was around them. “Word is that The Design is going to shut off access from The Founding.”
“What? Why would they do that? Who’s going to… how are workers going to get from Founding to Design?”
“Dunno. My parents are pretty hysterical about it. Doing everything they can to get us to the otherside before it happens.”
“Yea but they’ve been trying to move to Design for almost a year now. What else can they do?”
Relcheir didn’t hear anything else Andret said. His mind was racing. He’d heard rumors at the manufacturing plant that the Guardians wanted to split the city in two, but he never believed any bluster he heard on the job.
If it’s true… then… then
Relcheir swilled a large amount of his ferment, stood up, and... didn’t know what to do. He sat back down. “Look Andret sorry I was getting an important message,” Relcheir lied. “I missed part of what you said. Go back a bit, how can we find out if it’s true?”
“Oh it’s true. Some of those V-Girls get crazy creds. I just hafta figure out how to shack up with one…”
“What? No, not that. Gods. If Design is going to close off.”
“Oh. Uh. I don’t know, I mean my parents said it so why wouldn’t it be true?”
Relcheir grimaced. “Right, yea of course they would know. Hey, listen, that important message I got… I have to go. Sorry… Thanks for the ferment. I’ll catch you next time.”
He didn’t wait for Andret to figure out a response. He had to find out the truth for himself.