27. Let Me Play Among the Atars
Chapter twenty-seven
Let Me Play Among the Atars
Islept most of the flight to Marathon City. The transfer ride from there to the spaceport was only fourteen minutes, yet I slept for twelve. Ralia pulled me awake and my heartbeat felt like it was vibrating. I had a cool sweat running down my back and images of the neurocore fresh in my mind.
Prior to leaving Marathon City, Ralia had pointed us to an underground ring–one of the many in the oddly capacious airport–of data traders who extracted flight and associated travel information from Republic immigrants to point them towards the increasingly hostile Immigration Enforcers.
She only had to show me a single video of a southern Republic family that had immigrated to the north being torn apart to fill detainment center quotas.
The father and one of the children were pronounced dead, leaving the daughter paralytic and the mother with irreparable PTSD.
When we eliminated the ring’s reps, we took out the corrupt security officers who had their backs.
We got our fill of teeth.
My gratitude for Ralia redoubled as she mapped our way through the spaceport, through expedited security, and into the back of the shuttle for private luxury seating. I doubted she had paid for these, but figured it was better not to ask just how much she had manipulated the system in our favor.
The takeoff was smoother than I had anticipated. Then again, these people were paying for luxury, not mere practicality.
Each of our flight pods had the option for sedation during take-off to avoid the jarring G-force, but I chose to endure it.
It was still noticeable, but less dramatic than the footage I had seen of flights a few decades ago.
I wondered if the pseudo-earth’s developers–or settlers, the whole idea was far from clear–had aided the technology, having mastered it enough to construct a false moon for transportation and whatever the Correction did.
Nothing made sense. Despite Ralia’s assurances, I never would have thought I would have made it to this point.
We were leaving Earth’s orbit and–if a freak accident didn’t bring a grim twist to my story–would land on the moon.
If all of that had been possible, I suppose we could return alive and successful.
I heard a few flight pods playing music to muffle the retching of passengers as gravity lost its strength.
I tapped on my personal flight display and sent a request to the pod next to me to merge.
While I waited for Ralia’s response, I looked around in my pod as the glass around me.
The glass had shifted to a dark tint to protect our eyes from the sun, but I could still see through it.
The pod’s space was not too cramped, but it might have been too much for a larger claustrophobe.
A drinking tube stuck out of the wall on my left.
I pulled it, took a sip, then let go and watched it retract.
The flight panel before me had anything one could need for a two day flight except the ability to walk around.
I could recline the seat to sleep, order food to a tube on my right, use the restroom with some mechanism that would change my seat–though I was yet to try it.
The pod gave me premium neuronet access allowing me to stream an endless library of music with Finian augmentation, all of the newest mindshows, and plenty of neurospace games that I considered trying if I got bored.
The panel flashed green, showing that the pod next to me approved my merge request. I watched it slide towards me, link to my side, then the glass between us dropped.
“Getting anxious?” Ralia asked. Her top buckles were undone, unlike mine. I wasn’t frightened of the flight, but I didn’t want to risk anything I wasn’t permitted to do, even if that meant undoing one of the four sets of buckles.
“Just want to know what the plan is,” I replied. “I need something to keep my mind occupied for the next day and a half.”
“Fine. Maybe you can come up with a plan then.”
“What?”
She shrugged. “Unless you know something I don’t, there’s no point in planning.”
“But you said–”
“I said what I needed to get you out of the house–”
“Monastery.”
“Same thing. I’m not patient, Pet, and I doubt these people will be, either.”
“So we’re just going in blind?”
“Did we go into Nichley’s sea-operation blind?”
“Not really… maybe, but I mean… we had no idea that he was going to be using eel-child hybrids.”
“And we didn’t know that he was feeding light to a fetal god in a tear in the planet’s fabric.”
“Right.”
“So why plan for something we don’t understand when it could be overturned by some twist like that? Rely on me and your Gui and we’ll figure it out like we always do.”
“That’s a lot of faith.”
“In a world run by material things, it’s refreshing to trust in something beyond yourself every once and a while.”
“And your Gui?” I had to confront it, despite knowing the effect it would have on Ralia. The question stained the mood the moment the words left my lips.
At least I thought it did.
“He’s better than ever.”
I was wrong. She remained just as confident and pleased with herself as always. That stain was nothing more than my wavering confidence.
“What changed? I mean, I’m thrilled to hear that things are working out for you two, but I… I didn’t… expect this kind of reaction.”
“I won’t lie, it’s been hard to overcome my biases towards the Gui, but since seeing the strength of your bonds, I thought I would try my best. It wasn’t easy. Honestly, I lost hope until the end of the Standardized Test.”
“Then?”
“His demeanor changed. He was no longer a lurking specter pointing me in directions I didn’t trust, he wanted to follow my path.”
“He wanted to go to the moon?”
“Like a kid to an amusement park.”
Her answers were quick and she struggled to keep extended eye contact. There was something she wasn’t saying. I did my best to ignore it.
“Still, I’m sorry to say so, but I didn’t expect your opinion on the Gui to change so smoothly.”
She shrugged. “It must be something on his part. The past inhibitions have faded and turned to point us towards the moon.”
“After his brutal rage at the end of the Test?”
“The drive that saved us from utter failure? Yeah?”
“Does that same drive have anything to do with your need to drop everything and run to the moon before planning anything?”
“What is your problem?”
I couldn’t hold it back anymore. “This… doesn’t feel like you, Ral.”
“Oh, so you want to push me into loving my Gui until I finally do? The zeg is your problem, Petya?”
“Mine? Your demeanor changed the moment I mentioned your Gui. It’s like you’ve tossed sense out the window.”
“Just because I used to cower before any mention of him? My whole demeanor? I’m motivated.
Maybe you would learn what that feels like if you stopped hanging your head and playing the victim.
Poor Petya has to feed on teeth like the rest of us, but he’s the only one who is allowed to be melodramatic. ”
“Zeg, Ral–”
“All so you can let your crotch point you where you want because you’ll do anything for Naoma. What about us, Petya? Doesn’t this matter or is she your focus now?”
“Ralia? What is wrong with you?”
“Maybe I’m finally learning that I can express myself rather than keeping a fake zegging smile just to make it seem like everything is right. Why don’t you trust me over your zegging Gui who thinks something is wrong with mine?”
“Ralia. Please.”
“Please what? You know what, I think I need some time with him. At least Sha believes in what I am doing and doesn’t question every motive when it doesn’t fit his style.”
“Since when has he been the only one you can trust?”
“Since he decided to trust me.” The glass wall rose between us and our pods split.
My jaw hung open. I was at a loss for words.
I stared through the glass at her pod. Her glass went dark, obscuring everything within. I couldn’t close my mouth. I looked from side to side as if there would be some explanation for her uncharacteristic fit.
As expected, there was no answer.
The light from my flight panel shined on my face, but I didn’t want to numb my mind with entertainment.
I requested another pod merger.
She rejected it.
I closed my dry mouth.
“This makes me ill,” Zhu said.
Same here.
“I already knew that.”
Thanks.
“There is no need to thank me.”
Never mind. Back to her. Do you think Sha is making her act like this? She’s never this standoffish.
“Perhaps, though I am unable to communicate with him.”
What should I do?
“She is your friend. Why are you asking me?”
I don’t know. I thought you might know how to fix it if Sha is her problem.
“If it is, I am afraid the only way to learn his intentions is to let them play out.”
And if they end up killing us?
“They will at least be revealed by then.”
Is there a way we can separate? I don’t want to split up from you, but if you know how to, maybe we can use that to free Ralia.
“I am afraid such a cleaving would leave your hypothalamic implant powerless.”
Resulting in techbone.
“And the associated decay of your body. I do not believe you can survive without me. Perhaps one day you can discover something to replace me, but for the foreseeable future, that must not occur.”
I didn’t like those sentiments. I let Zhu ramble on to himself about the difficulty of our predicament, but I zoned out a few sentences in. I stared back at her pod, even though I couldn’t see her through the tinted glass.
I turned to my neurospace.
Petya: How are you holding up without me?”
Naoma: It’s nice to have a break.
She sent a laugh.
Petya: I miss you.
Naoma: Wow, you’re that bad already?
I started typing a message describing what was happening with Ralia, but I felt it best to leave her out of it. She had enough to deal with.
Petya: Just relaxing in a small pod. Plenty of entertainment options but I’m sure it’ll grow old after two days. Have you ever been to the moon?
Naoma: No. Will you take me?
Petya: If all this guk is out of the way and we can enjoy it for what it is, I would love to.