178. Pressing Forward
178
Pressing Forward
M aya
The AI offering euthanasia says we have less than fifteen minutes. It’s time to determine our plan. The three of us grab our computer pads and look at the ship schematics.
I guess I was thinking of, I don’t know, something between the size of a cabin cruiser and a US Navy battleship. This thing seems to be as big as one of those colony ships you see in sci-fi movies.
There are dozens of levels, and the thing seems over three city blocks long.
“We’re goin’ to have to do this the long way around,” Emily says, her southern accent somehow softening the seriousness of her words. “I think the more aggressive species will make a run straight for the bridge. We’ll have to be more strategic than that.”
“The last thing we need is run-ins with the other females. Let them kill each other off,” Anna says, then shakes her head. “Can you believe that just yesterday I worked at a cat rescue? Listen to me now, talking about humanoids dying like it’s nothing.” Her face squeezes in sadness, then her shoulders straighten, announcing she’s firming her resolve to do whatever it takes to go as far as she can in this monstrous game.
My thoughts return to the task at hand. Since our pads indicate we’ll be entering on Deck Eight aft, we decide to climb to the upper decks to make our way toward the fore of the ship, then descend the steps to where the bridge is located on Deck Five fore.
Our opponents will most likely enter and travel down to five. Our choice to ascend rather than descend will help us skirt most of the aliens.
“Are we sure it’s a great choice to travel the levels where the cabins are?” I ask. “Remember that little factoid about Carnivore guys in stasis? We may not have been here long, but one thing I know, we can’t trust the heinous bitch running this game. What if she opens all 2,000 Carnivore pods?”
We rethink as we pore over the schematics again and decide Deck Ten might be a good choice. It looks like it’s the kitchens, dining hall, and entertainment level.
“These might be cabins here,” Anna points to some cabin-sized rooms toward the fore of the ship.
“Yeah, but there are only six of them. At least there aren’t dozens, like on Decks Nine and Eleven.”
For the first time since we met, the three of us have no distractions. Zedd isn’t talking, and the AI isn’t offering a quick and easy death. We’ve come up with our strategy.
We were energized and hopeful as our fingers traced over the maps on our computer screens. Now that we have a moment to think, I can feel our shared terror as we look at each other.
Tiny Anna’s lips tremble, and freckled Emily can’t hide the tears welling in her eyes.
“We’re going to die,” Anna whispers. “Between the females, the aliens from the cellblock on the bottom deck, and the Carnivores, how can we possibly make it to the flag?”
She’s right. All three of us know it.
“We’re going to try,” I insist. “At least I am. I’m not particularly smart or skilled or even tenacious, but I refuse to admit defeat. That,” I make a loose fist and point my thumb over my shoulder at the euthanasia tent, “is not an option.”
“Females and males,” Zedd says, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Have you chosen a few favorites? Don’t forget the Galactic Federation has given the Galaxy Games a limited gaming license. Simply bet on your favorite contestant. We’ll be recalculating the odds on an hourly basis or after every kill. When all is said and done, the winners of the betting stand to make a lot of credits.”
They’re betting on our deaths. It chills me to watch the large screens as they show the betting. Though I can’t read the words on anything other than my own computer pad, I can see the numbers rolling next to pictures of our opponents. The tote board is displaying the leaders. By the looks of them, I’d put my money on them too. Terrifying and deadly. There’s not a human face on the screen.
We slip our computers into our backpacks, having memorized our route, at least the first few turns. We considered hanging back, but if I was one of those alien females, I would wait at the entryway to pick us off first thing. We’re going to leave in the center of the pack and make our way up the stairs to our left.
I’d insisted on going left because I noticed the words at the bottom of the screen crawled from left to right. I read somewhere that in cultures where people read from left to right, people move throughout buildings by taking the first right—like in the movie theater. It may not be worth much, but we’re grasping at straws as it is.
They’ve lifted a large segment of the white plastic in this temporary holding facility to reveal a black basalt door at least twenty feet square. This huge white dome has been a temporary staging area connected to the alien ship. Seeing the schematics is one thing. Now that they’ve revealed the basalt door, the reality of the enormity of this ship hits me like a sledgehammer.
One of the many armed guards in black hard-shelled armor presses with one hand, and the door swings on an invisible pivot opening to a dark room.
It’s impossible to get the scope and size, but just this room alone looks as large as a big-box warehouse. It’s pitch-black inside. How are we going to find our way?
We grab each other’s hands, tell each other “Good luck,” and when the klaxon sounds, signaling the start of The Game, we follow the surge of females pressing us forward.