by Rick Scott
“I know,” she says. “But that’s not the worst of it. We got a bigger problem.”
Uh…oh. “What do you mean?”
She reaches into her back pocket and produces a lump of black iron that fits into the palm of her hand.
“What’s that?”
“One of the drill bits. Or what’s left of it.”
Holy crap… “Those things were like a foot long before weren’t they?”
“Yup.”
I sigh and look towards the dung cavern. I didn’t want to have to go back in there so soon, but I guess we have no choice now. “Don’t worry. I’ll get more iron. We’ll craft another set of drill bits.”
“Don’t bother,” Gilly says. “It won’t work.”
“Huh?”
“Already tried it, Reece.” Gilly lets out a long sigh. “I’m on my fourth set of bits, and I’ve only gone 30 feet.”
Chapter 38: Riot
Bruce flinched as a glass bottle burst over the top of the riot shield.
The twenty-strong security detail he’d enacted pushed furiously against the throng of angry, disheveled people, who made up the bulk of the HUB residents. Their screams and yells of protest were deafening within the small side street that led to the medical center doors, which inadvertently had now become the point of a last stand.
Evelyn’s speech didn’t go very well. In fact, he was sure that’s what sparked the bottle just now.
Who the heck tells angry people they should be thankful for what they have?
The young doctor was presently being ushered through the front doors of the medical center and away from the crowd by Samantha Flores. The small Hispanic woman with sharp dark eyes and close-cut hair was the closest they had to a security chief at times like this.
Flores normally spent most of her time in the Shards, running security detail in a virtual sense, but she’d had the training to do the job in the real world too. War and police simulators. But now Bruce found himself calling on her abilities in the real world more and more.
“You’d better get out there, Bruce!” Flores said as she ushered the visibly shaken Dr. Munroe past him. “I don’t have enough guys to stop them if they go full-blown psycho. And I’m not looking to get KIA’d out here.”
Bruce nodded and inwardly grimaced at the crude gamer speak. It was something he was getting used to, though. Flores was a gamer first and, much like the scouts Dennis ‘recruited’, they were the best they had to offer to do the job.
At only 23, she was far from mature, but Flores was capable and the people she scrounged up on the Shards to follow her into the real world respected her well enough.
She was a bit like Mike in that sense. Rough around the edges, but he could deliver.
At least he still prayed that he could.
Most times the Shards themselves kept law and order, simply by existing, becoming an outlet for all kinds of stresses and negative propensities that would cause instant anarchy otherwise. And for those who rejected the Shards there was the law of the streets that kept them in check. Bruce knew several of the local bosses personally and so long as they were allowed the autonomy to run their own economy outside the Shards, they were happy to deal with all the administration and headaches that came with it.
Like dealing with thugs and other upstarts that got out of hand.
As such, most times Flores’ duties were limited to hab retrievals and petty crimes in the upper levels. But now stuff like this in the HUB was becoming all too common.
He’d have to commission a real security team if this continued. And by the looks of things they probably would.
“Bruce!” Flores yelled again. “Come on!”
He snapped to his senses. “Okay, I’m going.”
Curse my life, let’s get this over with.
Bruce exited through the Medical Center doors and stepped into the lion’s den. The entire street was filled with what had to be three hundred people and all of them ready to tear him apart. The crowd seemed to grow even more irate at seeing him, yells and heckles punctuating above the general roar.
“Screw you, Peters, you prick!”
“We want answers now!”
“It’s Peters! Let him speak!”
Bruce stepped just behind the line of riot guards, hands clasped casually behind his back. Fighting to get his voice heard above a crowd was an effort in futility, something he had learned early on, but letting people see you waiting for their attention, shifted the balance of control in a subtle but powerful way.
After two minutes the crowd settled into dead silence and all eyes were on him.
Show time.
“My father used to tell me I had it lucky,” he said, stepping forward and scanning about the crowd. It was mixed—vagrants from the gutters as well as upper and lower-levelers who’d probably gathered just from seeing the vid-caster feeds. That was good. A mixed crowd was always better to work with. “He told me that back in his day, they had to scrounge for scraps on the surface. Deal with roving AIs that could lay waste to the whole of Citadel and spend each night in terror and starvation.”
The crows looked both anxious and angry, perhaps wondering where he was going with this. A scolding perhaps? A reminder of what reality was really like?
Bruce gave them a grin. “He was also full of crap.”
The joke caused about half the crowd to burst into surprised laughter.
There we go. The tension was broken—both from his skill and his reputation of being a man of the people. He’d canvassed these very streets to become director and they put their faith in him.
Sometimes—he felt—unduly so.
“We’ve all grown up hearing those stories,” he continued. “About how tough things were in the beginning. And they were, no doubt. But the truth is, people, life has always been tough down here. And it always will be. That’s the only constant we have. Our struggle is real and it won’t end just because it’s our lifetime to live it.”
He paused and Bruce could see he had their full attention and hopefully their respect.
“Mr. Peters,” someone called out. “Can you tell us what’s going on with the medical systems? People are reporting malfunctions and hard credit limits. What’s that about and is it linked to a bigger problem that you’re not telling us about?”
Well that came out quick. A vid-caster probably.
His answer to the million-credit question would now be live for all to hear.
He hated doing this, but there was little choice. He played his politician’s hand.
“Do we have problems? Yes!” he said rhetorically. “But the better question is… how are we solving them?”
He then gestured to the crowd. “Certainly we can’t solve them by resorting to this. Can we?”
He again waited rhetorically for an answer and it had the effect he hoped. Eyes were looking down at the ground. He pressed on, balling his fist and thumping it against his chest.
“But I understand why,” he said. “I understand the emotion. The grief and uncertainty.” He thought of Gilly then and his words became real in his heart. “We all have loved ones affected by this. And I know how helpless it can make you feel. When you lie awake at night and realize that the future of someone you love is in someone else’s hands!”
People nodded and he could see some tears.
“It’s something we all struggle with daily. But solutions are coming. Change is coming. We won’t be in this state forever, I promise you that. And I also promise, that I will not let us speed ourselves into an early demise by turning on one another.”
Murmurs of assent went throughout the crowd.
“When is this change gonna happen, Bruce?!” someone shouted out.
“Yeah, when?”
“When!” they all echoed.
He knew the answer. When Mike and Ryan bring my daughter home.
He almost wished he could share it, but he had to give them something else for now.
“Things are already ch
anging,” Bruce said, and it was only half a lie. “We’ve been to the brink and pulled back from it. Believe me on that. The resources we need to keep us going, are well in hand.”
“Resources from where?” someone shouted.
Bruce smiled and pointed back at the crowd.
“Right here,” he said. “We’re the most precious resource we have. The only resource we’ve ever had.”
He paused and a deep silence filled the air.
The sense of pride in humanity was nearly palpable.
“We’re the only ones who can secure our future. And we’re the only ones who can destroy it too. Letting our emotions get the best of us, like we did today, won’t lead us to the answers we need. Only by pulling together, like our ancestors did 200 years ago…can we ensure we survive 200 more.”
He paced in front of the Medical Center as if it were a stage.
“I don’t have all the answers,” he said. “Some nights I don’t even know how we’ll do it. But the only thing I know for certain…is that we will. Because we have to.”
Bruce gauged a fair number of nods amongst the crowd. The time was right.
“Now please. Go on home to your families. Anyone who was directly affected by the problems here today, Dr. Munroe and her team are here to assist you. Let’s keep the faith, people.”
Bruce left and behind him the crowd erupted into murmurs and began to disperse.
Flores approached him with a massive grin on her face.
“And that…” she said. “…is why you still da man, Bruce.”
Bruce chucked as she gave him a high five. “Thanks.”
Evelyn gave him a nod as well. “Yeah, good job out there, Bruce. Although handing me over to an endless complaints line is less than appreciated.”
Bruce chuckled and gave her a wink. “I’m sure you can handle it.”
Thankfully she returned his smile.
Bruce took a seat on one of the waiting room benches next to Flores and released a sigh. “Disaster averted.”
“Yeah, thank the Shards,” Flores said, removed her riot helmet to reveal her crew-cut hair. “Man, these people get so pissed off. You’d think they’d get smart and take a raffle to deep six in the Shards. Stasis, I know, but it’s gotta be better than living off the streets down here, right?”
Bruce chuckled. If only she knew how close they were to all being ‘deep sixed’ just hours ago.
“I don’t know,” Bruce said, staring up at the ceiling. “There’s something to be said for living in the real world.” He smiled at his young security officer. “Got a grit to it, you know?”
“Well, duh,” Flores said. “How else would you know it was real, right?”
Bruce shot her a stare. “Say that again?”
She looked back at him quizzically, scrunching her bushy eyebrows. “I mean, I don’t get it personally—I much prefer the Shards—but some people need to feel that grit…to, I dunno, feel alive or something, I guess. I swear the only way you’d get some of these people in the Shards, is if it looked and felt as lame and crappy as all this.”
Bruce leaned back on the bench as her words became a mirror to his own soul. He’d never been one for travelling the Shards, even as a kid. As terrible and inconvenient as the real Citadel was, it was still far more valuable to him than playing in the fairy tale pixels of a fantasy world.
And that’s what made pulling off this trickery with Dennis that much harder.
He practically loathed the Shards, so why would he be inviting Dennis to a meeting within them?
He thought a moment more and then something Flores said caused his mind to click.
Holy crap… “That’s it!”
“What’s it?” Flores said.
He let out a laugh and stood, grabbing his comm.
“Flores, you’re a genius,” he said, giving her a grin. “I need to go make a call.”
Chapter 39: A Quick Think
I didn’t want to call a team meeting, but under the circumstances, I don’t really see much choice. I pass the word to Rembrandt and within a few minutes the rest of the team joins us down in the cavern. Val Helena arrives dressed in Warrior mode, presumably having switched to chop down trees faster. Her skin is covered in a sheen of sweat despite the cold and my brother too, is sporting rings of perspiration under his arms, staining his red karate gi. Aiko, in contrast looks as cool and collected as ever, and appears to be giving off a far more pleasant aura than before. That’s a good thing in my book. For what we’re about to face, we need everyone rowing in the same direction.
“Tell them the bad news, Gilly,” I say once we’re all gathered around.
Gilly shows them the worn drill bit. “The rock down here is too hard for this iron. I don’t know if it’s the extreme cold or what, but the rig can’t move more than five feet before I need to change bits.”
“That don’t sound good,” Maxis says, wiping his brow. “How far do we have to dig?”
Gilly huffs. “Like 300 feet.”
“Blimey. How much iron would that be?” Rembrandt asks.
Gilly’s eyes light up with her HUD, perhaps checking a calculation. “With two ingots per bit and 8 bits per drill head, that’s 16 ingots every 5 feet. So we’re talking around…960 units of iron?”
We let out a collective sigh of exasperation.
“What?”
“No way…”
“Is there even that much in there?” Val Helena asks, jerking a thumb towards the crap cavern.
Rembrandt shakes his head. “I doubt it. What you figure, Reece?”
I think back to my disgusting time in there and make a quick estimation. “We covered more than half of the cave already, I’m sure. And we only managed to scrounge up around 200 ingots. So…probably not?”
“How about making it stronger?” Maxis asks.
“I could if I had some coal,” Gilly says. “I could upgrade the iron ingots to steel. That’d probably work a lot better.”
“So where do we get coal?” I ask.
Gilly shrugs. “In mines?”
Another round of exasperated sighs go up.
“What if we use the nano directly?” I say.
Gilly furrows her brow. “What do you mean?”
“Well nano eats stuff and turns that stuff into other stuff, right? What if we made the nano eat the rock and turn it into…I dunno, air or something?”
Gilly laughs. “If only it were that easy. The game controls the nano and how it works. It’s bound by the same rules we are. And even if I did have some way to hack directly into them, no way would I be trying it. That’s a surefire way to lead to a catastrophe.”
“The grey goo situation,” Rembrandt says, nodding. “Like the sands in the wild zone.”
“Yup,” Gilly says. “Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if the wild zone came about as a result of someone trying to mess with the nano just like that.”
My face heats with a blush, as the implications of what I just suggested comes to light. “Sorry…I guess it was a pretty stupid idea.”
Gilly’s smile drops into a look of concern. “Oh no, Reece, not stupid. It was a good idea.” She then grins and nudges me. “Just hella risky.”
I chuckle at her attempt to cheer me up.
“So we’re back to scrounging for iron then?” Maxis asks.
“Iron we don’t have,” Becky says with a frown.
A long pause takes hold as we each search for a solution.
“Let’s solve this another way,” Aiko says, sauntering forward. “Why don’t we shorten the route? You said 300 feet right? What will it take to make this thing pop out right where it is now?”
“A vertical dig?” Gilly shakes her head. “That’s kind of impossible. The max incline I’d trust that thing on is 15 degrees. Plus, even if we could do it, we’d still be way too close to the keep.”
“What are you talking about?” Maxis says. “I thought you said the tunnel alone was like 200 feet long.”
“It is
,” Gilly says. “Unfortunately mister worm likes to chew in circles and he started in the wrong direction, so we’re pretty much directly under the stupid keep right now.”
Gilly shares something on the party chat. I click it and an aerial image of the keep appears with a red X marked to the southwest a fair distance away. “This is where I have us set to exit now. It’s running a roughly 6-degree incline right now. If I raise the incline to 15 degrees it moves to this.”
Her eyes go unfocused as she studies her HUD and the distance of the X gets cut to about a third of its original length. “That brings the drilling distance down to 100 feet but only 100 feet outside the keep walls too. And we’ll still need around 300 ingots of iron to do it.”
Rembrandt shakes his head doubtfully. “Still a lot of bloody iron, mate, and 100 feet is not too far from the keep either.”
“Yeah,” I say. “We want to be able to sneak out of here, not break the surface right under their feet.”
“We’re probably going to need iron to reinforce and repair that door too,” Rembrandt adds. “For when Braxus comes a-knocking.”
Crap…I didn’t even think of that. My stomach sours. “What are we going to do?”
Becky looks to Aiko and offers a weak smile. “I guess it’s too late to switch to Aiko’s plan B, huh?”
But even that joke doesn’t elicit any smiles.
“Oh snap!” Maxis says.
We all look at him, startled.
“What?” I say.
He grins. “You said it, Gilly. Mister worm!”
Before I can ask what he’s talking about, Maxis outstretches his hand and materializes a two-foot-long tooth. “It’s got to be hard enough to chew through the rock right?”
Gilly looks at it and then smiles up at Maxis. “Holy crap, Max! Since when did you start getting smart?”
We share a quick laugh at my brother’s expense, but I marvel as well. “I forgot those things even dropped. Good thinking, Bro!”
Maxis grins goofily as Val Helena rewards him with a kiss on the cheek. “That’s my man.”
“Can you actually craft it into a drill bit, Gilly?” I ask.
Gilly retrieves her hammer and gives it a twirl.
