by J. N. Chaney
Whatever the case, I envied him. The only way I could sleep like that was with a bottle of whiskey in my belly, and I certainly didn’t have any at the moment.
After another hour, I noticed most of the others had followed, filling the cabin with light snores and heavy breathing. The only exception was Dressler, who continued to stare at her screen, wide-eyed and restless. I wondered how long that would last or if she could sustain that level of energy through the night. The woman’s brain couldn’t slow down once it got going, so there was a decent chance she wouldn’t rest until this job was done and we were back in Verdun. That was the downside of being a genius. Your brain didn’t know when to stop working.
I set my comm’s channel to go directly to Dressler’s. She was only about six meters behind me, but I didn’t want to wake the others. “See anything interesting?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
“Not particularly,” she muttered.
“Shame,” I answered, watching the holo. It showed us passing by another drone. Number thirty-three, to be exact. Only fifty-three more to go.
Alphonse let out a short snort, then licked his lips and turned away.
“Alright, Doc, let’s hear it,” I said, kicking my feet onto the dash, partially disrupting the holo display. It flickered chaotically before settling.
“Hear what?” she asked.
“I know you’ve already concocted all sorts of wild theories about what you think is down there,” I said. “Including what all that Neutronium is for.”
“Do you?” she asked with a smirk. “Interesting. Perhaps you know me too well, Captain.”
“I’m a student of people. What can I say?”
“Do you know why the Union created Neutronium in the first place?” she asked.
“No idea,” I said, honestly. “I know it’s good for smuggling kids, though.”
“That’s one side effect, certainly,” she answered.
“But that’s not why they created it, is it?”
“No, it isn’t,” she responded.
An image appeared on the dash, showing a molecule of some kind. “Is this…?”
“Neutronium,” she said. “Expertly crafted by Dr. Willard Brim and Dr. Esther Mayweather. Their research has been classified and all attempts at replication have failed. The only means of procuring Neutronium outside of Union control is through illegal salvage operations. The Union refuses to share its research, much like many other military research projects.”
Like the cloak I bought for The Star, I thought.
“The material is used, as you said, to assist reconnaissance ships with avoiding enemy detection, particularly when combined with cloaking technology,” explained Dressler. “But as I said, this is not its primary function.”
“What is?” I asked.
“An energy conductor,” she replied. “Specifically, one attuned to slipspace energy waves.”
“Slipspace?” I asked, raising my eye. “What are you talking about? Are you saying that metal is good for slip travel?”
“No, not at all,” she said, shaking her head. “The ship’s plating makes little difference in that. No, what I’m referring to involves the engine.”
“The slipspace engine, you mean?”
“Yes,” she told me. “Neutronium is a key component in the newer design, particularly those found on larger Union ships, such as The Galactic Dawn.”
“The Dawn’s engine is made of that metal?”
“Only the conductor rod and the associated plugs,” she corrected.
“What difference does any of that make?” I asked.
“The metal increases the efficiency of the rod, which creates a more stable access gate, allowing it to remain open for longer than normal.”
“That’s it?” I asked.
She smirked. “Not at all.”
Another image appeared on my display. This time, it was none other than Titan.
“Let me guess, Titan uses Neutronium, too,” I said.
“A great deal of it, actually,” she added. “It is an essential contributor to its ability to create and manipulate new slip tunnels.”
It took me a second to wrap my head around what the doctor was saying. “That’s how Titan does it? Using Neutronium?”
“That’s only one of the components. The rest are still beyond the Union’s capabilities to synthesize,” answered Dressler. “Though, I suspect it may only be a matter of time before they catch up, considering how far they’ve come in the last few decades.” She paused. “All of that being said, my point is that there are two known uses for this synthetic metal, neither of which would make any sense, given what we know about Earth.”
“Which means?” I asked, finally turning in my seat to look at her, there in the back of the ship.
“Which means, Captain, that either one of those two reasons are accurate and we are simply missing something,” she said, locking eyes with me, “or there is a third purpose to the metal that we are not privy to.” She licked her lips. “And right now, I’m trying to decide which of the three is the most likely.”
* * *
I cracked my eyes, having finally fallen asleep at some point during our descent. Based on the holo, I’d only been out for about two hours, but it felt like a full eight. I was energetic and restless, ready to move.
Too bad we were still inside the godsdamn hole, floating into the darkness. The good news was that we were almost to the last drone.
I checked the holo, examining the walls in the chasm. All I got back was a gray metallic image that never changed. It was all identical—every centimeter of it, with no sign of any trilobite or abnormality.
“Sorry to disappoint,” said Alphonse. His voice jarred me, causing me to blink. “You won’t find anything out there. Not at this depth. I already looked.”
I leaned back and looked at him. “How long have you been awake?”
“Twenty minutes, give or take,” he answered with a shrug. “Siggy and I were playing Go.”
“Never heard of it,” I said.
Alphonse nodded. “Neither had I. It’s the oldest board game on Earth, according to Titan’s logs.”
“I won,” commented Sigmond, sounding victorious.
Alphonse smiled. “I came closer to victory than I thought I would, given the opponent.”
“You were impressive, Constable,” admitted Sigmond.
“Says the Cognitive,” replied Alphonse. “A regular marvel of technology and he calls me impressive.”
I turned to the display again and leaned on my armrest. “Do you think there’s an end to this pit?”
Alphonse chuckled. “Based on what Siggy tells me, if we don’t hit the end soon, we’re likely to find ourselves coming out the other side, but that would be impossible.”
“Oh?” I asked.
The holo display flashed, replacing the image of the wall interior with a map of the chasm. We were at the center of it, tucked between two lines, except the lines were now twisting, curving, and opening up at long last, signaling the end of this long journey.
I sat up in my chair, saying nothing but waited with cautious breath for the next phase of the tunnel.
Alphonse stared at the display, a gaping expression on his steady face. “Well…every planet has a core,” he said, although his tone suggested he wasn’t so sure.
The opening widened, and we saw what appeared to be a massive oval, stretching on for several kilometers. No, it was bigger than that, larger than the holo could show us, going beyond what the sensors could detect.
I was about to ask if Sigmond knew where to go from here when I saw—
Well, they weren’t quite walls. Not in the traditional sense.
“Oh, my gods,” muttered Abigail, who must have noticed it, too. “Are those…buildings?”
“Hanging from the wall,” finished Alphonse. “It would seem so.”
I gawked at the image on the holo—an expansive cityscape with towers climbing out from the inner ground. They wer
e all around us, like an impossible dream, surrounding the center of this oval from all sides.
This was certainly a first.
“Someone tell me what I’m looking at,” I ordered. “Where the hell are we?”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” announced Sigmond, this time sending his voice throughout the ship. “Welcome to the center of the Earth.”
THIRTEEN
“None of this makes any sense,” gawked Dressler, swiping and tapping her pad like a woman possessed. “I don’t—why would they—”
“Someone calm her down before she breaks,” I said, not bothering to turn around. I was far too busy staring at the display, magnifying different areas of the map to see what I could find. The city—if that’s what it was—filled the entire core of the world, every tower and building pointed to the absent center.
All of this was far too large a space to search with just the ship’s scanners. We’d have to get closer to pick up everything. “Siggy, how big is this place?”
“I am unable to determine that, sir,” he answered. “It goes beyond the ship’s scan range.”
“Seems we’ll have to look around,” said Alphonse. He was calmer than the rest of us on the surface, but I knew better. I could see the worry in his eyes—a hint of something, turning in his mind. Was it fear? No, I didn’t think so. Something else, like he was taking everything in.
Studying, assessing, calculating. That was the way of a Constable. I wondered, did he see something I didn’t?
Looking out across the city, I wondered if anyone else had found their way here. Was there a Union ship waiting for us in the darkness of this place? Were we walking ourselves into a trap? If only I could see more of the area, I might find my answer.
“How far do the sensors on this ship go?” I asked.
“Approximately one kilometer,” informed Dressler, even though the question wasn’t directed at her.
“Glad to see you’re not hysterical anymore,” I replied. “Siggy, is she right?”
“That estimate is correct,” answered Sigmond.
“In that case, stay a kilometer away from the nearest wall and hug it all the way around,” I ordered. “We’ll map the whole damn thing out before we decide where to go.”
Sigmond did as I told him, accelerating the ship to cruising speed, monitoring the space around us at all times. Even here, the wall was covered in Neutronium metal, the same as the previous tunnel. Whatever this place was, it wasn’t accidental.
Twelve minutes into our search, something beeped on the holo, drawing my attention to a glowing blue set of lines. “Siggy, talk to me,” I told him.
“An abnormality in the structure, sir,” he replied. “I am still analyzing it.”
The object was attached to the lower section of the wall, nearly a kilometer below and ahead of us, right on the edge of our sensor range. It stuck out of the wall like a sore thumb—literally, in fact, now that I looked at it.
“Is that a landing platform?” asked Alphonse, before I could ask the exact same question.
“That doesn’t mean we should use it,” cautioned Verne.
Octavia scoffed. “We didn’t come all this way for no reason. Besides, points of interest tend to be located near landing sites.”
“Precisely,” interjected Dressler. “Which means there’s something here to find. Captain?”
“Already on it, Doc,” I said, taking control of the ship. I aimed our nose towards the platform and accelerated.
“This place is eerie, isn’t it?” asked Alphonse, although the question seemed more like a statement.
He’d get no argument here.
I felt like the smallest fish in the world’s biggest fish bowl, except we were alone in the water, no sign of life to be found. It was more than eerie. It was downright spooky.
As we approached the wall, more details filled out on the holo. The area adjacent to the platform opened up, revealing something like a tunnel that extended beyond our sensors. “Looks like we’ve got our next course,” I muttered.
“Look here,” said Alphonse, pointing to the holo. He zoomed in on the opening. “It’s too small for the ship. We’ll have to go in on foot.”
He was right. The rear of the platform came together like a hallway—a width of two meters—before opening back up on the other side. We could try blasting our way through, but gods only knew what effect that might have on the infrastructure. Best not to take a risk like that unless we had to. “Seems that we’ll be landing,” I said, raising my voice enough for the entire crew to hear me. “Everyone grab your gear and ready your weapons.”
“Weapons?” asked Verne.
“Is that a problem?” I asked, turning around.
“I’m not that experienced with firearms,” he explained. “I’ve only had a few hours of training. Most of what I know is academic.”
Abigail raised her rifle, slid the chamber open to examine it, then locked it back into place with a hard click. “Everyone has a first time,” she said, just as Octavia and Dressler were securing their pistols. “With any luck, you won’t have to do anything, but--”
Octavia leaned over Verne’s shoulder. “You’d better make sure you’re ready.”
* * *
The platform was made of the same Neutronium material as the rest of this place. Smooth and gray—a minimalist design. The light of our ship shined off the metal like a smudged mirror as we unloaded from the vessel, fully armed, wearing our environmental suits.
Despite Sigmond’s assurances that there was breathable air down here, I decided to play it safe. For all we knew, this open area was the only place with any oxygen in it. Sensors couldn’t tell us what lay ahead, which meant we were walking into the unknown.
The opening in the wall was fifty meters from our position, directly ahead. I was about to start walking when I noticed something in the corner of my eye.
Verne bounced on one foot, pausing to switch legs and repeat the process. I stared at him in confusion. “What the hell are you doing?”
He looked up at me with a surprised expression, like he hadn’t expected the question. “What am I doing?” he repeated. “Isn’t it obvious?”
I scoffed, then looked at Abigail, who responded with an equally confused look. “Maybe try explaining it,” I said, turning back to him.
“Oh, well, we’re at the center of the planet, aren’t we?” he asked.
“That’s what I’m told,” I said.
Dressler walked up beside me. “Ah, I see where this is going,” she said with a light smirk. “Good observation, Verne.”
“What?” I asked, looking at the two of them. “Someone start talking sense.”
Verne nervously cleared his throat. “Y-You see, the center of any planet is said to have near zero gravity. According to my suit, the gravity here is identical to the surface, which as you might have guessed is most unusual.”
“That, it is,” confirmed Dressler, turning to me. “Not every planet or moon has a working core, which has allowed miners and researchers to dig their way to the middle in search of rare resources. Those expeditions reported lighter gravity and, in some cases, instances of near zero.”
“Oh, so that’s it,” I said, finally getting it.
She nodded. “I suspected this might happen once we observed the lack of pressure inside the previous tunnel, during our descent. It seems the Eternals went through quite a bit of work to ensure this facility remained accessible.”
“Facility?” I asked. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
“Isn’t that what it is?” she asked, motioning to the opening along the far wall. “Every aspect of this place appears intentional, including the landing pad. Whatever lies ahead, rest assured, has been placed there for a reason.”
“And what reason do you think that is?” I asked.
“That is a question we share, Captain,” said the doctor. “Let us hope we find the answer soon.”
FOURTEEN
The corridor was tigh
t at first but widened soon enough.
There was nothing but the dark ahead, and it seemed to grow as we moved towards it, even despite our own lights. It felt like walking into the Underworld.
“I don’t like this,” muttered Verne. His voice was shaking, and I sensed the fear bubbling inside of him. “I-I don’t think it was a good idea for me to come.”
“Hold it together,” I said, slowing so I was beside him.
His heaving breathing was heard on the comms as sweat beaded down his forehead and cheeks. Kid was gonna lose it if I didn’t calm him down.
I switched over to another channel but kept the main one open. I had Sigmond do the same for Verne. “W-What just happened?” asked Verne, noticing the change.
“I had Siggy switch us to another channel. We can hear the others if anything happens, but for now, they can’t hear us. Tell me what’s wrong with you, kid.”
He hesitated to answer, but continued walking. “I-I just don’t think I should be here, Captain. This place is…dangerous, isn’t it? Look at it.”
“I see it just fine,” I said, dismissing the fear. “You weren’t like this back in the ship. Just what the hell is bothering you all of a sudden? Tell me the truth, Verne. This ain’t the time to hold back on me.”
“I don’t—”
I glared at him with a look that suggested I already knew the bullshit he was about to try on me, and I wasn’t having any of it.
He closed his mouth and lowered his eyes, acceptance in his face. “O-Okay, then,” he said, after a few more seconds. “It’s going to sound stupid. I know it will.”
“There’s plenty of stupidity in this crew to go around, Verne. Just speak your truth and get it over with.”
He let out a sigh. “Ever since we landed, I’ve had a strange feeling. Well, more of a memory, I suppose.”
“A memory?” I asked.
“Of my sister,” he answered. “She died years ago, back when we were kids. I keep thinking about it. There was a quake and one of the tunnels collapsed, taking her with it. I was too young to do anything, but I saw the body after they brought her back.”
