The Softwire: Awakening on Orbis 4

by P. J. Haarsma

  Chausau’s face was centimeters from mine, and the intense air from his nostrils pushed against my skin. I didn’t dare move.

  “Care to demonstrate this extraordinary ability?”

  “I can’t,” I mumbled.

  “Speak up!”

  “I can’t!”

  Chausau circled me. “You can’t or you won’t? I’ve been told that you never require a belt. That you can jump whenever you like.”

  “You’re wrong. It’s not like that,” I told him. “It’s tied somehow to my sister. I can’t just jump when I feel like it.”

  “I’m wrong?” The other Space Jumpers standing along the railing chuckled. “I’m never wrong. Just ask any one of them. The fact that you can’t jump whenever you want has to do with this,” he said, and stabbed my head with his finger. “It has nothing to do with this.” Chausau then stabbed at my heart. “But that’s what you’re here for. I will awaken that part of you that can control your gift, to make it part of you, a function as automatic as breathing. That is, if it’s even true.”

  Chausau walked away. “Put your new belts on!” he cried. “Look at them! Are they not beautiful? They are yours now. Takecare of them as if your life depends on them — because it does.”

  I stood there as the other Space Jumpers cheered. I watched Switzer and Gora slip their belts around their waists and admire them. I couldn’t look at the others, though. I only stared at the belts. I hated Chausau for singling me out like this. I didn’t want the other Space Jumpers to look at me without a belt, naked and waiting for ridicule. Switzer looked up and ours eyes met. I expected to see that stupid smirk on his face. I assumed he would be the first to ignite my long and torturous humiliation, but he didn’t. No, it was much worse than that. When I looked at Switzer, I saw pity. Pity for me. I wanted to die.

  Chausau assigned a Space Jumper and a Honock to Switzer and then to Gora and instructed them to walk the new owners through their belt’s interface.

  “What am I supposed to do?” I asked as Chausau walked past me.

  “Come with me,” he said, and my nostrils immediately filled with the stench of feet.

  Chausau released his grip, and I found myself standing with him on the center platform.

  “Warn me next time you’re going to do that, will ya?” I said.

  “Hopefully there won’t be a next time. Quirin has informed me of the details of your ability, and it seems quite simple. Unlike those who use a belt, you cannot jump with anyone in tow. Only a belt can create the proper time distortion for that. If you try, you will kill them. And you do not need to put coordinates in a belt as we do; you simply need to know where you’re jumping.”

  “That seems pretty limiting, don’t you think? Why don’t you just give me a belt, like them, so I can learn this properly? Why burden me with those limitations?”

  “It’s not the limitations that count. It’s the freedom to jump whenever you want. Imagine yourself torn apart in battle protecting the Scion. If you had a belt and it was lost or damaged you would be useless. But not you. You can still jump. It is a gift beyond comprehension. They will fill moons with stories about you.”

  “I don’t want anyone to write anything,” I spat.

  “That is not up to you. Your burden is to master your gift. That is your only concern. Do you see the spot where you were just standing?” he asked, pointing back to the railing near the light chute.

  “Yes,” I grumbled.

  “That is your goal. That is where you are going.”

  “How? Aren’t you supposed to teach me?”

  “Did someone teach you to breathe?”

  “That’s a stupid question.”

  “Really? When you concentrate on your breathing, you can block out most of the deconstructive energy that flows through you. When you concentrate on your ability, you can block out most of the Universe, as well as its physical form. You may then choose what part of the Universe will be manifested in your presence. You choose your own reality, Space Jumper. Whether you are here or there is up to you. Matter does not exist until it is observed; until then, it’s simply waiting for you.”

  Then Chausau jumped, and a moment later I spotted him near the light chute where I had started.

  “That doesn’t make any sense!” I yelled after him, but he only turned and walked over to Switzer.

  How was I going to get over there? What kind of training was this? I looked around the platform, but for what? I had no clue. Maybe I could find something to tell me what to do, but the circular markings I saw on the floor were nothing more than decorations.

  You have to concentrate. But I just stood there with my arms crossed, watching the others. Gora and Switzer looked like they were swapping notes as the other Jumpers explained the workings of their new belts. Why wasn’t that me? Why did I always seem to be the one like this? Abandoned in the middle of nowhere and left to figure things out for myself. I hated it. It wasn’t fair.

  “Hey, I can’t do it!” I yelled. Switzer looked up as my cry echoed back to me. I cringed as my whining replayed across the void.

  I sat down near the center of the platform in an attempt to concentrate, but concentrate on what? My breathing? That seemed like a bunch of nonsense to me. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath.

  Nothing.

  The sound of laughter from the others across the void crept into my mind. Push that out. Concentrate on the spot. Picture it in your head.

  Still nothing.

  “This is stupid!” I cried, standing up. No one looked across at me this time, not even Switzer. “Hey!”

  I stared at the spot near the light chute. I pictured myself standing there. I clenched down on my back teeth, trying to focus harder on the location. I even bulged my eyes for effect.

  “Oh, this is useless,” I said, and flopped back down. This time, I sat at the edge of the platform and let my feet dangle over. I wanted to throw something down the void, to hear how long it took before it hit bottom. At that moment, I almost pushed myself off the platform. I almost threw myself down the void just to see what would happen. My arms tensed, and I even felt the rush inside my stomach just before someone does such a stupid thing. Of course it was a stupid thing. Chausau wouldn’t have kicked me over if there were any chance I could die, but he wasn’t here right now was he? Why even take the chance?

  I looked up to see where Chausau was, but I couldn’t find him. He had left. So, too, had Switzer and Gora. I watched the other Space Jumpers gather their things and leave as well.

  “Hey, what about me?” I yelled.

  A moment later, I was alone. Now all I could hear was my own breathing. Immediately I began to wonder how long Chausau would leave me here. What if I got hungry? What if I had to go to bathroom? I could always void over the void, I thought.

  How pathetic. Look at me. What a malf.

  All I had to do was jump. I had done it before. But that was different, I tried to reason. Ketheria was in danger. That’s what triggered my jump, and the time in the food chamber I was simply angry. Then get angry.

  I clenched my fist and snorted. Then I narrowed my eyes. I recalled every cliché I could think of to express my anger. Then I thought about Switzer and Queykay, even Odran and Weegin. I thought about the time Weegin tried to sell us, and I thought about my life on the Renaissance. The anger smoldered, and soon a small flame ignited all those things I wanted to say but never did. I was getting very angry now. I could feel it. I stood up and concentrated on the spot near the light chute. Oh, I was mad, really mad. . . .

  Nothing.

  I screamed. I guess I wasn’t mad enough. I lay back on the platform with my hands behind my head. My headache, the one always lurking just behind my eyes, raged against my forehead now. I reached into my pocket for one of the tablets, hoping for relief, but I paused before popping it into my mouth. These things weren’t stopping me, were they? I didn’t eat much or even sleep much when I took them, and it made me wonder if they were part of the
problem. It seemed unlikely, but I still tossed the tablet over the edge. In fact, I turned my pocket inside out and let all of the tablets tumble into the void. I waited to hear if the tablets ever hit bottom, but I never heard a thing. Must be too small to make a sound, anyway, I told myself.

  Then the lights went out.

  I think I fell asleep shortly after the place went dark. I remember staring up at the soft blue haze in the ceiling and wondering about Max. I didn’t dream about her. In fact, I don’t remember dreaming about anything at all. I woke to the sound of Space Jumpers filing into the training area. I saw Switzer and Gora and then immediately looked up. Chausau should be descending upon my platform like he always did, but I saw nothing. Instead I heard him across the way. He had used the light chute, bypassing me completely. They were ignoring me, I realized.

  I sat and watched Switzer make his first jump with the belt. After several tandem jumps with another Space Jumper, he moved from one platform to another. The others cheered and gathered around him, thumping him on his back. I could see him smiling even from where I sat. I hope he enjoyed the smell of stinky feet.

  Gora was next. I watched him fidget with his belt as if he was checking and re-checking something, or everything, while the others waited patiently. When he did manage to jump, he found himself teetering close to the edge of the other platform. So close that he almost missed his mark entirely. Everyone remained breathless, even me, until he steadied himself and found solid footing. He turned and thrust his arms into the air, his tentacles wiping widely about, and a cheer erupted.

  “Goodie for you,” I said.

  They made it look so easy with the belt. Why not just give me one? I could learn the harder way later. I wanted to be next so badly. I wanted the others to cheer as I jumped from platform to platform. I knew I could skip across every one of them if they just gave me one of those stupid belts. I sat back, concentrating on the platform they were all standing on. I would show them. I’d jump over there and demand a belt. I focused hard, willing every cell of my body away from the space I was currently occupying. I dove deep inside, looking for any exit out of my current reality. Something tingled. I was close. A little more.

  Nothing.

  I looked up, and Chausau was making them jump again. I couldn’t hear what he said, but everyone stood still, listening carefully. I turned my back to them and started thinking about my stomach. Despite the nausea, I was starving. Right now I was so hungry, I’d even eat that slop Odran used to feed us. I tried to concentrate on the food hall. Maybe the hunger would help me. But I found nothing to grab on to. Why wouldn’t they give me some sort of instruction? This was ridiculous.

  I sat firmly rooted in my self-pity and continued to watch the triumphs of the Hollow’s newest recruits. Switzer seemed more confident than Gora, jumping much faster and even able to pick up an object from one platform while jumping to another. I saw him for only a split second before he appeared on the platform far to my right. Gora was a little slower. I supposed he was having trouble setting the coordinates in the belt fast enough. Maybe he wasn’t that attuned to working with his softwire. I wanted to jump so bad that the pain was worse than the hole now growing in my stomach.

  After nearly a cycle, they all left, not a single one of them acknowledging me or even glancing in my direction. I curled up on the floor, hoping sleep would come quickly. I did try to jump once more, but it was useless. I didn’t know what to do.

  “Wake up,” something shouted as I felt the weight of a boot push against my ribs.

  I opened my eyes to find Chausau standing above me.

  “I can’t do it,” I mumbled, and curled back up.

  This time Chausau kicked me. “That’s because you’re weak.”

  “No, it’s because no one has shown me how to do it. You show Switzer and Gora how to work their belts. Everyone is there helping them learn, but I’m supposed to figure it out myself. Why?”

  “You were given all of the skills to perform your task. In fact, you have already done it. No one can show you because you are the only one who can do it. Yet you sit here as if someone owes you something. As if it is our responsibility to take your hand and do it for you. You are pathetic, and you are lazy.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re ugly.”

  Five other Space Jumpers appeared on my platform. Each of them was carrying some sort of teal-colored piece of metal. The strain in their muscles told me that the pieces were heavy.

  “On your knees, Jumper,” Chausau ordered.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “On your knees!” Chausau kicked me again, lifting me off the floor. I got on my knees. Two of the Space Jumpers moved in and placed their pieces of metal on either side of me. They pushed them together, slamming against my knees. I lifted my knees, and the pieces slid together perfectly, stopping at my waist, with barely enough room left for me. I could feel the rough iron against my legs, my hips, even my feet.

  “Chausau, what are you doing?”

  “Put your arms out in front of you.”

  “Why?”

  “Do it!” Chausau screamed in my face, and my arms shot forward, a survival reflex.

  The other two Jumpers placed two more pieces of the puzzle around my chest, shoulders, and arms, locking me in the metal cocoon. The only part of me that was exposed was my head. I couldn’t hold the weight of the thing, and I toppled forward, slamming against the platform. The sound of metal striking metal rang across the void.

  “What are you doing, Chausau?” I pleaded.

  I tried to look up, but the metal was too close to the base of my skull. All I could do was stare at their feet.

  “You wanted help. This is how I will help you.”

  “By locking me up? I already can’t get off this platform.”

  “You’re not staying here,” he whispered.

  I watched the feet move away from me. “Where are you going?” I screamed.

  Then I heard a clink, and then another. I felt myself lift off the platform. Something was pulling me into the air. When I cleared the platform, I could see the other Jumpers watching as I pulled away. Chausau was not there.

  “Chausau, where are you?”

  “I’m right here,” I heard him say from somewhere behind me. He must have been standing on me as I was pulled into the air.

  “Please tell me what’s going on.”

  “Your mind is your worst enemy, Softwire. The Nagools tried to bring you through your awakening their way, but now we will do it my way.”

  This is what Ketheria was talking about. What were they going to do me? I could hardly see the platform below me as the mist around me grew thicker. I could feel the cold moisture against my face, but then it was gone, as if we had slipped through some atmospheric cloud. I pushed against the metal cocoon, but there was no wiggle room. The metal fit as close as my own skin. But the more I pushed, the less I began to feel the metal. I couldn’t move, yet I could no longer feel anything pushing against my skin. It was maddening.

  In front of me I could see the plate metal wall, scarred with hooks and bare bolts. The space closed in, tapering as I rose higher and higher. Then I passed another metal cocoon bolted to the wall. It looked identical to the pieces that were placed around me. Was he going to mount me to the wall like some trophy? My metal mold swung toward the wall. Then I heard the sound of a small motor as I rotated up, my hands and knees now pointing toward the wall in front of me. To my left was another one of the metal molds. It was empty.

  My cocoon hit the wall with a clank, and Chausau was now balancing himself on my arm. I heard more whirring and clicking as I was fastened in place on the wall.

  “Please, Chausau, don’t do this,” I begged.

  “A disciplined mind is a Space Jumper’s best ally.”

  “I don’t want to be a Space Jumper, Chausau, really I don’t.”

  “Hush now. You will thank me when it is over.”

  Then I felt a vibration at the back of my ne
ck, and something began to crawl across my skull, then over my eyes, and then over my mouth. My lips brushed against the crimpled surface. It was more metal, but the sensation of something pressing against my mouth soon disappeared. Finally the thing sealed itself around my neck. I screamed out, “No!” and felt my own hot breath fall back against my skin. Chausau did not answer. All I could hear was the sound of my own breathing, and soon I was no longer able to feel the warmth of it pushing back against my face.

  “Chausau!” I screamed once more, and the material covering my face spilled into my open mouth. I clenched down, pushing whatever it was out of my mouth, but then the sensation of that slipped away as well. I didn’t know if the stuff had worked its way down my throat or if I had been successful in pushing all of it out.

  My mind scrambled for some solution, rattling in my skull, bouncing around in my head as it searched for some way out of this. I pushed outward with my mind, looking for any sort of computer device to interface with, but there was nothing. Even the interface for my arm was no longer available to me.

  I needed to move, but I felt paralyzed. I thought I was moving, but I couldn’t feel it. I was panicking. Calm down, I told myself. Think about what Ketheria said. This is their method. Chausau mentioned that the Nagools had tried with me, but they had failed. Failed at what? My ability to jump without a belt? What was it?

  Relax. I can’t!

  My mind was screaming again. I hated it. I wanted out, but I couldn’t think of a single thing to do. I felt like I was going crazy. I wanted out of this contraption so bad, I would rather die than spend another parsec in this thing.

  Then die.

  What do you mean?

  Give in.

  Give in to what?

  Just give in.

  I can’t! my mind screamed.

  I think I fell asleep. I’m not quite sure. Maybe my brain had simply shut down. When I awoke, the futility of my situation poured back into my metal mold, but I did not panic. I was surprisingly calm. I would not let it control me this time. I knew the only way out of here was to jump, and the only way to do that was to discipline my mind.