Blocks

by Tara Basi

  “I don’t know who they are, we have to find the door,” said Battery Boy, as confused as his companions.

  “I’m gonna kill both of you if we don’t get out of this,” Jugger stated without any particular emotion.

  “We’ll get out, I’m not dying here,” Battery Boy answered mustering as much confidence and courage as he could.

  “Good answer,” Jugger shot back, “so what’s your plan.”

  Jugger and Stuff had already worked out they were in a cage suspended in a pit, about a body length below the edge. The only exit was through a locked trap door in the ceiling and from there, they assumed, there must be a ladder to the lip of the pit. The roof and its hatch were made of thick metal bars, three walls and a floor made of some kind of wood that was lashed together. The fourth wall was the hard pit face. If they pulled their knees up tight to their chests all three of them could sit down in the rickety bottom of the enclosure albeit with their toes touching. Stuff was the only one who could stand up, without his head touching the bars of the ceiling,

  The blackness was pitch. Having tested the bars of the roof they knew there was no escape that way. The rest of the cage seemed frighteningly flimsy. It could be broken but they risked the whole thing collapsing and dropping them into the yawning pit underneath their feet. For now they had nothing to do but sit in the cage and wait. The gang that had trapped them were well organised and somehow navigated with ease in the darkness. They stood no chance in a straight fight.

  “So we wait, they could have killed us easily, see what happens and be ready,” was Battery Boy’s only conclusion.

  “I can see why you’ve survived so long in the wastes, but to be ready we need to stretch,” Jugger added.

  The boys took turns standing and stretching their limbs, as much as the cage would allow, getting as much flexibility back and pain out as they could.

  Battery Boy figured they had been locked up for hours when someone jumped down, onto the top of the cage.

  “Light’s coming soon,” someone whispered out of the dark. She sounded young, younger than Stuff. “You hold on tight to the roof, nothing else of the cage is gonna be left, keep to the pit wall. If you make it, we’ll talk later.”

  Unexpectedly Battery Boy felt two heavy plastic bottles bumping against his forehead. He grabbed both as a short rope slipped past his face. There was hardly a sound as their benefactor left. One of the bottles was obviously filled with a liquid. The second with something heavier, more viscous, like a thick paste. Battery Boy tried the first, it was water. He drank eagerly then passed the bottle to Stuff and Jugger, “Water.”

  Battery Boy gingerly unscrewed the cap on the second bottle. The stench nearly made him throw up the water he’d just drunk.

  “There’s a second bottle, it’s got something really nasty in it and I’m not hungry enough to even give it a try,” Battery Boy whispered.

  “I’m starving, I’ll try,” Stuff said, feeling his way towards Battery Boy’s hands and grabbing the plastic bottle.

  Almost instantly Stuff gagged and retched.

  “I know that smell, it’s Block shit, how can they eat shit,” Stuff spluttered.

  “Lucky I got a pocketful of roaches,” Jugger said.

  “I’ll take a couple,” Stuff pleaded.

  “Here midget, enjoy, I don’t reckon we’re gonna starve to death,” Jugger answered.

  “Shush, you hear that,” Battery Boy hissed.

  A tide of roach clicking seemed to be heading their way, growing louder every second. If cockroaches were coming so was the light.

  “Quick, like she said, press your bodies against the pit wall, grab the roof bars,” the words had hardly left Battery Boy’s mouth when the Block projected its blinding light straight down.

  With their eyes tight shut, clinging like leeches to the bars above their heads, faces flattened against the pit wall, the giant grey-pink Block stool fell like wet cement, smashing into their bodies, flattening them against the cold marble of the pit with the force of a massive waterfall. The wooden cage walls and floor were disintegrating all around them. The floor fell away under the weight of the glop leaving them clinging to the metal bars of the cage roof, pinned to the wall, hanging in space, covered in slime. The rank odour swirled all around them making it difficult to breathe.

  By some miracle the bars of the roof held. Battery Boy’s feet were dangling in the air; the rest of their cage had gone. His hands were coated in slime, making them wet and slippery. It would not be long before his grip failed and he fell.

  “Your left, grab my hand, I’m saving you one more time,” Jugger called from somewhere above him.

  Battery Boy put all his strength into moving sideways, hand over hand towards the edge of the cage roof towards Jugger’s voice.

  At the last metal bar he flailed about till his hand found Jugger’s and he pulled him up on to the cage roof.

  “Stuff?” Battery Boy called out.

  “I’m here, on the roof, Jugger pulled me up,” Stuff answered sounding a little surprised, and relieved.

  “Thanks, thanks,” Battery Boy said, confused, Jugger had saved them both, why?

  “Give me your hands, feel the pit wall, OK, right a bit, that’s a ladder, follow me, climb, maybe these bars won’t last long,” Jugger said and moved off.

  Battery Boy pushed Stuff ahead of him and then climbed up after, till all three were safely on solid ground.

  Just above the noise of his own panting Battery Boy could hear the familiar clicking sound of roaches coming to feast.

  A cold sexless voice spoke out of the black.

  “Sorry about that, it’s tradition. A test, to see if you’re worthy. Complete rubbish as a test. Traditions though, buggery to change. Anyways, no harm done, you all survived, even the squeaky one. So, welcome, you’re now, officially, nearly free. A quick initiation and then, well, that’s it really.”

  The speaker paused after every few words and, from the same direction, Battery Boy was bombarded with a short, rapid, burst of roach clicks before the voice continued. It was a very old voice, the oldest deepest voice Battery Boy had ever heard. Had Battery Boy found what he’d been searching for; a place where people were free and lived as long as they wanted? Sitting in the cold and dark, covered in glop and bruises, listening to the horrible threatening voice, he didn’t think so.

  Chapter 4 – Space

  Mina’s eyes were tight shut and her heart raced. She didn’t want to see what lay outside the airlock all at once. She needed to open her eyes with slow care. As a child she had always preferred to slip cautiously into the swimming pool, screaming excitedly as she finally let go and slipped under the cold water. Mina wondered if Doug was one of those who liked to jump straight in, wanting the initial shock of the cold over with quickly. The two of them stood side by side in the Small Business’s airlock, dressed in absurdly bulbous, gloriously white, space-suits. She could hear Doug’s rasping breath over her suit-radio sounding just like she felt, scared and helpless.

  Less than twenty-four hours earlier Doug and Mina had presented their plan to the rest of the crew.

  “That’s it, we space walk over there and try to get in via the rubbish hatch?”

  Mina looked at Doug, then back at Cole and shrugged a yes.

  “And failing that we take a chance and blow a small hole someplace, where it, hopefully, won’t destroy the whole station?” Cole asked. In a couple of sentences he’d reduced their carefully crafted plan into something crude and stupid.

  “More or less, and whoever volunteers probably won’t succeed, or come back,” Doug confirmed and then sighed heavily.

  “Come on Doug, it’s not that bad,” Mina added, trying to lighten the mood.

  “But that’s it, no other way to dock?” Cole asked.

  “The rubbish chute airlock is the only one we stand a chance of opening from outside. The whole bomb thing is just a last resort,” Mina answered, waving a hand as if to dismiss the idea.
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br />   “I like your spirit Mina,” Cole said.

  “Thanks, Commander.”

  “So when are you two heading off?” Cole asked.

  “What,” Mina spluttered.

  “Let’s get it over with, we’ll go now,” Doug replied, smiling weakly.

  “I can’t go, I hate space, I get sick at the fairground. What about him,” Mina protested, pointing at the Lieutenant, “Grain, action man. Why me?”

  “Mina, Cole’s right, it’s our plan, we’ve studied the thing to death, and you need to be there to sync the Maxinquaye systems with Trinity’s auto-pilot.” Doug said, very unhelpfully from Mina’s perspective.

  “Mina you’re really brave, and you too Doug,” said Sara. “We’ll all be rooting for you. And probably best we keep Grain in reserve; he’s still finding his zero-gravity legs.”

  Mina glared at Sara. Bitch, she thought, your game is pretty obvious, protecting the sperm bank.

  “God go with you both,” Greg added, which gave Mina no comfort all.

  “I wish I could go Mina, but I’m sure you and Doug will do a fantastic job,” Grain said, and then gave a clumsy zero-gravity salute before tumbling all over the place.

  Mina was livid. Grain had been getting around the ship fine for the last week and now he’s mister can’t-cope-with-zero-gravity, the bastard. She got ready to hurl a bucket full of invective at all of them. Before she could Doug grabbed her arm, pulled her sticky slippers free and was floating her towards the spacesuit lockers.

  Mina and Doug stood side-by-side, suit shoulders touching, waiting for the last breath to leak out of the cramped air lock. Neither of them had done this for real before, only in simulation, and a couple of times in a giant swimming pool. No one imagined they would actually ever use the spacesuits.

  The airlock door went, ‘bing’, like a department store lift.

  “You ready?” Doug whispered.

  “I’m never going to be ready. Just open the damn door,” Mina shouted back, her eyes still tightly closed, and held her breath.

  Mina heard the door swish open. Doug sucked deep and forgot how to breathe out. As Mina slowly opened her eyes the scene crashed into her with the force of a mudslide. She felt dizzy, nauseous. Fortunately there was nothing in her stomach. A burning, sour taste filled her mouth. She fought not to slip into senselessness as cold sweaty waves rippled over her body and grey veils fluttered in front of her eyes.

  Mina and Doug stood shoulder to shoulder, their backs pressed against the rear of the air-lock staring directly at the Maxinquaye straight ahead of them. Beyond the Maxinquaye, filling their whole field of vision was the Earth. It seemed to Mina it was spinning very quickly. Snowy cloudbanks rushed across an azure Atlantic, chased by the Amazon rainforest.

  In her head Mina was toppling headlong, falling straight past the Maxinquaye, tumbling on to melt in a bright ball of fire, high up in the atmosphere. Nothing happened, Mina stayed rooted in the airlock, as logically she knew she would, just as her animal irrational senses screamed she was going to plunge to a fiery death. Mina and Doug remembered how to breathe again and let the air whoosh out of their lungs.

  “Get a grip woman, you’ll be fine,” Trinity, the Small Business’s computer system, whispered into her earpiece, its tone almost encouraging.

  Mina needed the connection to Trinity to complete the hook-up of the Small Business and the Maxinquaye’s systems, she just prayed Trinity would tone down the jibes. She turned to look at Doug, and he stared back. They gave each other the thumbs up. Mina thought he really didn’t look well. The circles under his eyes seemed to be taking over his face, growing increasingly darker and slacker. Even before they had got into the suits his pupils darted about in fear as though searching for an assailant in every shadow. The man was wrestling with some private fiend. His condition was no surprise to Mina. The whole crew were still in shock over the vanished billions. How did you begin to mourn a whole race? Mina just hoped Doug didn’t lose the struggle with his demons before they got safely back. She prayed they’d be returning through the Maxinquaye airlock into a docked Small Business. The thought of returning any other way and what it meant was too horrible to ponder.

  Mina and Doug would have nothing to do till they got much closer to the Maxinquaye. Their suits were tethered together and had been pre-programmed to cross the thousand metres separating the Small Business and the space station. The two space-walkers would get manual control back five metres from the Maxinquaye, then they had to fly the rest of the way themselves, fine-tuning their touchdown.

  “Here we go,” Doug announced.

  “Think about it, your first outing in ten years, enjoy,” Trinity whispered in her ear.

  Mina felt the gentle thrust of mild acceleration as they moved slowly out of the airlock into empty space. She forgot how to breathe again as nothing rushed in from all directions. She slammed her eyes shut and kept them that way. Doug provided a running commentary on how far they’d travelled. The short journey across to the Maxinquaye was taking her whole life. She tried to think of something else.

  In-between calling out the distance travelled, Doug tried to chatter aimlessly without letting his fear show and failed miserably. Mina silently thanked him for that. His trembling drone distracted her just enough from her attention-seeking terror. She did her best to reciprocate by squeezing out breathless monosyllabic responses.

  “Twenty metres to manual control,” Doug announced.

  Up to now they had been passengers. Very soon Mina would be flying solo, a heart-wringing prospect. Their suits brought Mina and Doug to a complete stop.

  Spread out in front of them was the space-station and it looked a mess. The Maxinquaye had seemingly evolved without any sort of planning permission. The habitat had outgrowths of all sizes, shapes and the clashing colours of numerous national flags and corporate logos. A triumph, Mina hoped, of function over form.

  According to the last records they got from Earth, at any one time, up to five hundred people were living on the Maxinquaye. Nobody stayed more than six months. The Small Business was a bus compared to this town-sized station. Their target, a one metre diameter waste disposal chute, was buried somewhere on the Earth side of a jumble of interconnected house sized balls, boxes and cylinders.

  Mina watched Doug move timidly forward like a mouse creeping up on a sleeping elephant. For a moment she was frozen, afraid of doing anything, then she gingerly depressed the forward control. Floating a few metres behind Doug, the tether connecting them gently undulated as they moved forward together. The sight of that thin wavy line somehow made her feel a little better. She wasn’t alone out here.

  They bumped feather like into their first target, an external maintenance ladder on one of the less garish outer modules. Years of zero gravity experience instinctively came into play as they clipped themselves on to the ladder and rested. The easy part was over, crossing the one kilometre gap between the Small Business and the Maxinquaye.

  “You OK, I’m OK, we think,” Doug mumbled.

  “How unlucky, lost in space and tethered to a suicidal manic depressive with a severe multiple personality disorder,” Trinity added into her private earpiece.

  “Fuck off,” Mina hissed, before realising Doug had heard, ‘sorry Doug, not you, just a bit jittery.”

  “I probably will, soon,” Doug answered sadly.

  After a final check of their suits Mina and Doug unhooked themselves from the ladder and crept nervously forward. The Maxinquaye was loosely organised like a hedgehog, with a myriad of haphazard bulbous spines growing out of the central body. Mina fervently prayed the main control centre was still located in the centre.

  The less glamorous blocky tube shaped spine they sought was dedicated to recycling and waste management. Mina and Doug would have to thread their way between massive outgrowths, avoid entanglement in the numerous protrusions that sprung up everywhere, pray that something sharp didn’t slice through their suit and avoid getting hopelessly disorient
ated and lost.

  Mina followed Doug, creeping forward hand-over-hand, her legs floating tail like behind her. She felt she was a deep-sea diver pulling herself precariously across a sunken WW II battleship. Her life-preserving grip on every handhold was ferocious. She was already feeling like an outclassed prize-fighter in the tenth round, laboriously sucking air.

  “Mina, you have got to calm down”, she whispered to herself, “or your air won’t last six hours.”

  “What?” Doug asked.

  “You’re so right, think of puppies,” Trinity added

  “Nothing, I’m fine,” Mina replied still breathing heavily.

  “OK, we’ll be losing comms with the Small Business soon,” Doug said.

  Slowing her breathing she willed herself to relax, slightly cheered that she’d be losing Trinity’s sarcastic commentary as well when the huge bulk of the space-station got between them and the Small Business.

  Mina was reassured that Doug kept looking back to check she was right behind him as he led the way, sliding past struts, around communication dishes, up, over and down the bigger modules. Scuttling like crabs over the surface they passed many darkened, lifeless, glass eyes. Mina shivered with a sense of piercing melancholy for the hundreds of people who had vanished from this once busy station. A more manageable sadness, hundreds of missing people.

  She settled into a smooth set of movements propelling herself steadily towards the centre of the Maxinquaye’s Earth side face. It helped Mina to keep her concentration and leash in her fear by not looking over her shoulder at the Earth, now directly behind them. Apart from the head spinning dizziness the sight of her twirling home induced, she hated catching any glimpse of the gigantic things on the surface, easily visible, even up here. The monumental obsidian monoliths, encircled by swirling grey-black storm clouds, were like ugly scars on a lovers face.

  They still had a long way to go, there was probably another hour of staring at Doug’s bum. Shame she had never found Doug attractive, it would have helped take her mind off the dangers she was facing every time she changed hand holds and risked floating away. While carefully following Doug her thoughts turned again to what they had learned. It all added up to not much.