Denise’s body moved from side to side as she compensated for the pull of the force from each turn. Her long blonde hair was visible under her helmet and flowed with the wind as she accelerated along the straight-aways.
The bike’s motor gave a rumble that echoed off of the buildings. The tires rolled across the street and created a sound that was unfamiliar to these parts except when she came to work and went home.
The motorcycle was her pride and joy. She knew that the newly invented hover bikes had just hit the market, but they held no interest to her. They seemed to be too sterile, too clean. They didn’t purr like her bike did and they didn’t roar like when she poured on the throttle. She couldn’t feel what they were saying. With her bike she was able to hear and feel everything.
She had found the bike while visiting a scrap yard and had gotten a good deal on it. Nothing had worked on the motorcycle and it had taken several more trips before she was able to find the parts that she needed to fix it up. Even then, it had been a “Frankenstein” cycle, but over time she was able to find the correct parts and make the bike whole once again.
The Bonneville still looked old though. It was dented and scratched up. Paint had faded and the wheels were missing a couple of spokes each. There were still some rust spots here and there and there were individuals that had told her that it was a “bucket of bolts”. Her response was the same each time: “It has character.”
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Denise slammed the paper down upon the desk.
“Sign me up.”
The building was one of those sky rises in the middle of downtown. It was all black glass with black trim and black frame making it look like a high tech government security building. It was designed to inflict intimidation and respect. Instead, she found it to be too big for a simple “sign up” and wondered what its real purpose was, since it was obvious that this wasn’t where the shuttles would be launching from or even where she would receive her training or orientation. However, this the address listed on the flyer.
Well, to be honest, it really wasn’t printed on the flyer. There was an internet address listed on the flyer that told her where to submit her application. It also told her that it might take several months before someone got back to her. She didn’t have several months of just waiting around waiting for a possibility of a maybe. Besides, she was never the person to sit and wait while there was an opportunity to do a job right away. She had looked up the internet address and traced it here, to this building. It wasn’t difficult to do. She had figured that showing up in person would not only show initiative, it would also show her ability to utilize the skills that she was stating that she had.
She found the lobby to be sparse and emotionless. There were no plants, no pictures and no furniture save the one chair behind the one desk that was occupied by the initial emotionless woman that seemed to have nothing better to do than to just sit there.
The receptionist behind the desk looked up in shock. She wasn’t used to people coming up to her and asking for one of the positions aboard the Terraforming missions. Usually people went through a process of sending in their application, either that or they were handpicked by some military or corporate sponsorship. On top of this, she also wasn’t used to anyone coming up to her for any reason. She just wasn’t used to interacting with anyone. This was above her job description and she really had no idea what to do.
“I’m the best freelance mechanic that will walk through those doors,” Denise continued without missing a beat. “And I dare you to prove me wrong. Anyone else better than me would be working for some mega-corp. or the military or even the government. You need a mechanic, I’m here. Sign me up. And while we’re at it, make room for my bike; I’m taking that with me.”
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Denise opened her eyes. She knew right away that something was wrong, the chamber was supposed to open as soon as her heart rate reached a certain level. Her hands immediately went to the glass cover and she gave a slight push. Perhaps it was simply stuck. These were the older models and had a tendency of sticking, however with a slight push their emergency override would kick in and they would, or at least should, open. Nothing happened. Without hesitation her hand went to the manual lever on her right.
The movement over her glass cover caught her attention. At first it was just a blur between her being not yet awake and the fact that the cover was starting to fog over with a slight buildup of ice. Then she realized that it was a person, someone who was trying to help her out. However, it was then that she also saw the dilation in his eyes and the look upon his face. She didn’t have time for this. With a quick twist of the lever, the glass top hissed open.
“I was just going to…”
Eric tried his best to cover his blush. Like the rest of them, Denise was only wearing her skivvies which only further distracted him from the task at hand.
“Help me out?” Denise snapped with a bite. “Yes, I’m sure you were. However, I’m more than capable of taking care of myself, thank you.”
Her tone was dripping with sarcasm. She had seen that look before, that look that only took in her form and tossed out all possibilities that she might have some form of personality let alone an intellect. And once people found out that she had both a personality and an intellect, she was usually discarded as being too much of a hassle and most men moved on to some other blonde with less grey matter between her ears and more cleave between her breasts.
However, by the sounds of things, there were worse situations to think about than the stare of a wide-eyed admirer. The emergency red lights were flashing. Coolant was spilling into the room. Computers were being short circuited.
“Warning...Main computer offline. Navigations offline. Communications offline. Cascade failure imminent.”
Chapter: 04
Doctor Atkins had found the next chamber. It read “Bruce Shelton” and if he didn’t know better, this was their geologist. His expertise would be much needed once they reached Phoebe, and that was if they reached the planet at all.
Richard scanned over the life support diagnostic read outs that the monitor was displaying for the individual inside of its chamber. The readings weren’t good. Bruce’s core body temperature had dramatically dropped, his heart rate was almost nil, his breathing was shallow, and his brain waves suggested that death would be soon if he didn’t get the help he needed and fast. With expert precision Richard went into motion to get Bruce free.
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Bruce tossed his thick paper report down upon the long business table in front of him.
The large table sat in the middle of the meeting room, high above street level in the corporate office of some business that he didn’t even bother to give any consideration about. He had heard of their name before, but in the end. It didn’t matter to him to whom he was working for, they were all the same. These suits were out of touch with the common man and were usually out of touch with rational thinking. All they were concerned about was “the bottom line.” Usually his findings weren’t a representation of the corporation's view of “the bottom line”, as was the case now. He already knew how this meeting was going play out; he had seen it far too many times. Still, he had a job to do and he was going to finish it.
“So, this means we can go ahead with the drilling?”
The “suit” at the far end of the table was either the owner or the CEO of this corporation. His arrogance was easy enough to spot. His assessment of the situation was indicative of what was written in the report, however, he missed the point. They usually always did.
The man leaned back in his chair and gave Bruce a “I already know what I’m going to do, I just want you to agree with me” look. Bruce knew that look and had seen it way too many times. No one really read h
is reports. He wondered sometimes why he even bothered to write them.
Bruce had to almost shake his head at that thought, he already knew the answer. These corporations were required by law to have geological findings before digging or drilling. However, although the law stated that they needed to have the report, it didn’t say that they needed to follow its findings let alone read them.
“If you are asking me if there is oil down there, then yes, there is oil down there. If you are asking me if you should drill then the answer is no. As you can see by my findings, the geological structure around this area isn’t sound. Once you start drilling the entire area will collapse and…”
The suit simply waved his hand toward Bruce as if dismissing him.
“You don’t understand,” Bruce went on. “If you drill in this area there will be a catastrophe. I’ve seen it before. The risks are…”
“The risks are no longer your concern Mister Shelton, and quite honestly the risks aren’t my concern either. You had a job to do and that was to find us oil. You have been paid.”
Bruce was taken aback by the suit’s title that he had used in reference to him. Bruce had achieved a doctorate degree in geology. He had taken a lot of time in studies and research papers. He had taken a lot of time out in the field. He had spent a lot of money and had to pull a lot of strings. In the end, it had been worth it. Now, with this degree, he was worth the amount of money that they were paying him. The suit knew this. The suit knew all of this, yet he used the title “Mister” as if to add insult to the injury of not reading his report and quickly dismissing him.
“But the workers that will be endangered…”
“...is not your concern as it isn’t my concern either, Mister Shelton. Now, is there anything else? No? Then thank you for your time and your report. I’m sure security can help you find your way out if you have problems finding the door.”
Bruce gave the “suit” another harsh look. It was one of those where he wished he had heat vision so he could burn a hole through the man’s head. There were several choice words that he would like to say, but he shook his head. It wasn’t worth it. The “suit” across the table wouldn’t listen to him anyway. There was really only one thing left to say.
“I’m sure I can find my way out, thank you.”
The statement was only reiterated as Bruce slammed the door to the conference room behind him.
As Bruce pushed the button in the elevator to the main lobby, his mind began to wander. This wasn’t the first time he had been “excused” after his findings and it probably wouldn’t be his last. No, this was going to be his last; he simply couldn’t take this anymore. He was tired of not being listened to. He had a doctorate in geology which meant he could be doing a whole lot more than just pointing to oil, or diamonds, or plutonium, or whatever the material was this time and the next. No, it was time to get out of this corporate gig. The pay was always great, but the cost to his soul was way too high. It was time to do something more...something productive.
Then he remembered. There were always shuttles going out to Terraform planets. He could bring his knowledge and experience to any group going out to the fringe planets in the outer systems. He could make a difference by starting over. Every individual that ever stepped foot on the planet he helped Terraform would benefit. This brought a smile to his face, a smile that quickly faded.
The temperature in the elevator quickly dropped. At first he thought that there was something wrong with the environment controls that were supposed to be strictly regulated in these buildings due to the outdoor air pollution. Then he thought that the “suits” were just messing with him so that his exit from their building would be as uncomfortable as they could make it. However, the temperature continued to drop dramatically, more than any air conditioning could provide.
His hands moved quickly over the air vents in the elevator as he looked to see where the cold air was coming from. He found nothing. There was no air movement at all nor was there any sensation of the frigid temperature that he was feeling.
‘What is making the air so cold?’ Bruce thought to himself. ‘No, that’s not right. The air isn’t cold, I am.’
Bruce’s body started to shake uncontrollably under the chill that was racing through his body. He had never felt so cold. Even when he had been in the arctic looking for places to drill, the frozen landscape had never affected him like this.
As Bruce’s body went into convulsions, he dropped to the elevator floor. He could no longer feel it moving downwards, he could only feel his body lose its heat. His core body temperature was dropping and fast. His fingers went numb. His toes went numb. It was hard to think. For one moment he could see his breath upon the air, but then it became too hard to breathe. He gasped for air like a fish out of water.
Suddenly his body jolted. It was as if he had been struck by lightning. Electricity ran through his body and his muscles contracted involuntarily. Again and again his body went into convulsions.
“Come on...come on. Live!”
The voice seemed to come out of nowhere. It was a strange voice, one he had never heard before. It seemed as if the voice was talking to him as if he was the one that needed to “live.” If that was the case, then maybe this “someone” should stop beating on his chest, it was beginning to hurt.
That thought raced through his mind. Someone was, in fact, beating upon his chest. He really wasn’t in the elevator. That had happened some time ago. He had already joined a crew going off to Terraform a planet. If that was the case then…
Bruce opened his eyes and started breathing rapidly. His chest felt like it had been electrified and then bruised. He felt like he had been through hell and back, as if he had died and…
The scene around him told Bruce exactly what he needed to know. Someone was kneeling over him and from the looks of things, he had started CPR. A set of defibrillators were lying next to him.
“What? Where?”...
“It’s ok,” Richard stated. “We’ve got you. You’ll live, that is if the ship doesn’t explode and kill us all.”
“What?”
“Warning...Life support systems offline.”
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Denise moved to the chamber that had the name “Tracy Leach” at the end, marking the name of its occupant. She moved to the side of the container to the computer terminal and let her fingers quickly go through the motions of pushing the buttons in the correct order. She had to shut down the coolant, regulate the temperature, allow the proper flow of oxygen inside the chamber, and inform the computer that the patient was awake before she could open the container. It was a simple set of commands, a set that she could do in her sleep.
Nothing. There was nothing. She had done everything correctly, she was sure of it. However she didn’t stop to question herself, she merely went through the process again. Again there was nothing.
Tracy’s eyes opened. The cold had permeated her body and she was starting to shiver. She had never been so cold in her life. But it wasn’t just that, she couldn’t breathe. It hurt to take in air into her lungs and her body was trying to stop her from doing so. Each attempt brought in the cold into her lungs. On top of that, the air was becoming thinner and thinner. She was starting to become dizzy and lightheaded.
Panic started to set in. Tracy pounded against the cold, hard glass in a frantic frenzy. She struggled with all of her might. She had to get out, she had to escape this contraption of death. She didn’t want die. Not like this. She had worked so hard to get here, it couldn’t end like this.
Movement above her caught Tracy’s eyes and she could barely see the person on the other side of the frosted glass trying to help her out. However, it was no use. The would-be rescuer was taking too long. It was going to be too late. Consciousness started to fade.
Denise moved over the lid and tapped on the glass. If she could get Tracy to listen to her, to follow her direction
s, then she could get her to open the lid from the inside. If she couldn’t then Tracy would die. Denise turned her attempts from tapping to pounding. For one split second she seemed to lock eyes with Tracy. It was then that she pointed toward the side where Tracy could find the manual dial. The attempt to communicate wasn’t taken correctly.
Tracy heard the pounding and saw Denise. The hand signal pointing down only told her that either the lid was stuck and was never coming up or that her odds of making it out alive was over. Either way she was sure that she had now just been condemned to die. Panic set in again and she continued to thrash about one final time knowing that she was eating up the last remains of oxygen in her chamber.
Harbinger Page 3
