Anlov Record

Book 01, Chapter 05

“Did I miss it?!” Nuta asked almost in a shout as he hurried onto the bridge.

Ayabegei silently stepped past him down into the hall.

“Sucks to be you,” Geib declared calmly as he spun around in his seat to face his friend.

“You just missed it,” Geib explained in a feigned villainous voice. “No, you’ll never see an exit from a Ring Jump from the first person perspective. Ever.”

“I just finished all my tests,” Nuta countered. “I’ll see it next time we jump.”

Geib feigned shock in his body language. “My incredibly feeble plan was foiled by my own arrogance!”

“Anyway, congratulations,” Geib stated as he stood up from his seat, having had his fun.

“Thanks,” Nuta blurted as he hurried over to the pilot’s station.

“Whoa there Turbo,” Geib called. “I locked the controls, so we aren’t going anywhere until we’re all finished with our tests.”

“I know,” Nuta replied as he climbed inside the seat. “I’ll just get used to this seat until then. Make myself at home.”

“Sounds good. I better get to finishing my own tests,” Geib said as he approached to door to and from the bridge.

He turned back, leaning with his hand on the section the door deployed from. Sensors in the door detected the pressure and it kept it open.

“I doubt I have to remind you, but don’t do anything stupid,” Geib advised. “Also, when I come up, you better be making flying and ship noises with your mouth while pretending to fly the ship.”

“Will do,” Nuta acknowledged.

Geib walked briskly down the main corridor that ran the length of the Cardboard Box’s central structure. Blank plaques were next to each door. Near the end of the hall, he turned to enter the room labeled “education suite.”

It was a spacious with two rows of pod like chambers. In the near corner next to the door was a control station with several monitors. Geib approached Cisimi, who sat at this control station, working diligently from screen to screen.

“How’s everyone doing?” he asked quietly, even though he knew the crewmembers inside the pods likely couldn’t hear him.

“Everyone’s biometrics and vitals are normal,” Cisimi answered, misunderstanding Geib’s question.

“I meant their progress,” Geib clarified.

Cisimi’s head twitched slightly.

“Specialists Lyr and Odeylum are finished with all of their testing already and are at their posts. Graduates Rugebov, Edesium, Vihili, and Chieuch are each nearly finished with only one test left for each. Specialist Denayer has two tests remaining. The Reezmins are lagging the furthest behind with three tests remaining and Rio with four tests remaining.”

Cisimi turned around to face her commander.

“They’re having quite a bit of difficulty with the material. Each time they fail a test, I run them through an education program in their pod. They keep trying, thankfully,” Cisimi reported.

“I’m sure they’ll get it eventually. That leaves Wits.”

“Specialist Huhoff-Ye is currently unable to take the tests because of the obvious size limitations of the pods. Specialist Lyr is rigging up a unit for Specialist Huhoff-Ye to wear on her front section to take the tests. She shows enough understanding of the material to be able to complete her tests quickly when she gets the chance,” Cisimi reported.

“Then that just leaves you and myself,” Geib noted. “No pods are left, I guess I’ll go see if Pip-is needs any help.”

Cisimi’s head again twitched.

“Are you actually going to help him or are you going to just socialize with your friend?” she asked.

“I do know when to work and when it’s allowed to be social,” Geib responded.

“I meant no offense, Commander. I just worried that you might be a distraction,” Cisimi jabbered and fidgeting rapidly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Geib smiled. “I’ll just go ask, and if he doesn’t need me, I’ll come back here and wait for a free pod.”

“I’m still regretful that I was so rude,” Cisimi added, hands rubbing against each other.

Geib again leaned on the door’s opening, keeping it open with his pressure.

“You’re so formal,” Geib noted. “I know I don’t show that ability to distinguish between work and leisure very well, even though it’s there. Like I said, don’t worry about it.”

Cisimi stopped rubbing her hands together.

“Besides, sometimes you need to be rude to me.”

Cisimi was again going to blubber apologies all over herself, but Geib’s departure and smile disarmed her. She, as part of her culture, was used to being very formal, polite, and subservient to authority. Most of her superiors ignored these traits as it so happened that such behavior was what should be the norm of military and Scholar service. Only this bizarre commander suggested anything different.

Each pod opened with a hiss and cracking sound of its seal.

“Damn, that was some stupid crap,” Rio complained as she climbed out of the cushioned seat that she had been lying in.

“Don’t hold back. How’d you really feel?” Ocura asked factiously as she helped her sister up and out of the pod.

Rio’s knees wobbled slightly as her body’s limbs were still waking.

“Do we really have to know each and every bit of those codes and rules? It was like sitting through city council meetings or whatever,” Rio commented. “No wonder I kept missing answers.”

“Your brother finished before either of us,” Ocura noted.

“I’m sorry I’m so stupid,” Rio replied defensively.

“You know that’s not what I’m saying,” Ocura chastised.

Ocura wanted to kneel down so that she was at eye level with her sibling, but resisted that urge.

“I’m saying… I’m just… is this really what you wanted?” she struggled to find her words. “Your brother and I wanted to go, but if you didn’t really want to come, you don’t have to.”

“If you don’t have the interest, of course you’ll be less motivated to do all of the ‘stupid crap’,” she added.

Rio resigned not to be offended or over-react. She knew her sister was only ever looking out for her, but she found such motherly antics to be annoying. At least Ocura was there for her. That was often all anyone ever wanted.

“I chose to join this mission,” Rio sighed. “I meant it. I just don’t think we’d need half of these rules and organization.”

Ocura smiled. No matter how hard she tried, Rio couldn’t help but smile in return when she saw her sister smile.

“We Senguins always want to be free. Free from the ground, free from restraint,” Ocura commented as she exited the room with her sister beside her. “But remember the story behind why the Fire-Wings are named. The Fire-Wings could fly the highest, but they intruded on the sun, who took away our flight. They’re the highest that a Senguin could be.”

Rio nodded. She looked at the crimson feathers on her arms and felt a proud glow inside her.

“The Fire-Wings were the pinnacle of freedom, but even they had to return to the ground. Even they had their limits,” Ocura continued. “So do we. So do the Scholars. We have to be bound to this or else we’ll intrude on the sun.”

Rio had to admit that her sister was always good at explaining things in a way she and her brother understood. While sometimes she was bothered by her sister’s motherly nature, it was times like these that she was glad to have Ocura around.

“I guess you’re right,” Rio conceded. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it though.”

Ocura laughed.

“You’re so committed to your personality,” Ocura observed. “That’s fine. I don’t like all of it either.”

Both stepped out onto the bridge and found a wall to lean against. Teliar stepped over to stand next to them.

“You guys sure took your time,” he taunted.

“So you want to be the first casualty on this mission huh?” Rio retorted.

“Threatening a crewmember? That carries a hefty penalty,” Teliar juked.

Rio opened her mouth to counter his comment, but chose not to say anything. She shook her head and scoffed. She was in a rare good mood, and she wasn’t about to let her brother ruin it by doing what siblings do best.

Ocura looked around to the rest of the crew assembled so far. Some of the crewmembers were missing, but she had to scour her memory as to whom since she was still getting to know and memorize the entire crew.

“Wits, Cisimi, and Zevtroz,” she whispered, inaudibly, to herself as she finally deduced who was missing.

Each present crew member was occupying themselves with various tasks. Ayabegei sat in the command chair and was browsing information on a holographic display. Nuta and Mahie were both familiarizing themselves with their posts, the pilot’s station and navigator’s station respectively. Ocura could barely even see the top of Mahie’s head over the navigation console she sat behind. Suge looked like he was sleeping at the weapons station. His quills flexed with a set rhythm. Pip-is and Dogot were blathering about who-knows-what near the, unintentionally appropriate, communications station. Kazochi was off to the side, near an auxiliary console, reading from an old book.

“So this will be our new family,” Ocura observed, just loud enough for her siblings to hear.

Neither of the siblings said anything in response. Finally, Rio spoke up.

She stated, just loud enough for the three to hear, “In that case, I want to live with dad.”

Ocura couldn’t withhold, even if she wanted to, her laughter from bursting from her. In spite of Rio’s bad attitude, Ocura conceded that there were moments when Rio was just hilarious.

The rest of the crew on the bridge turned to look upon the three, and specifically, Ocura laughing boisterously.

“What’s so funny?” Dogot called over.

Ocura froze. She shook her head and laughed.

“Nothing,” Ocura excused. “Just some inside humor between us.”

“Uh huh,” Dogot replied, a curious smile on his wide lips.

The door to the bridge slid open, putting an end to any bizarre standstills. Wits, Cisimi, and Geib entered the bridge.

“Everyone is finished with their testing, so we’ll be sending confirmation coding to the Kriovitl,” Geib announced loudly.

Even though there were only so many people present, Geib still felt like he needed to speak loudly like he was speaking to a large crowd. He started loudly enough, but upon seeing how inappropriately loud he was, brought down his volume.

“Is everyone ready for our first mission?” he asked as he stood boldly and resolute.

He had his own bizarre standstill as the excitement barely even registered amongst the crew. Mahie, Dogot, Nuta, and Kazochi displayed the only visible manifestation of excitement, and slight murmurs came from the rest.

“Oh come on guys!” Geib whined. “We have to be pretty excited to some degree. And look at everyone being so far apart in here. We’ve got to have better spirit than this!”

Geib laughed it off. “We’ll get there.”

He didn’t take into account how nervous the crew was. They had just finished taking exam after exam stressing the severity and importance of their mission and roles. To Geib Zevtroz, life was an adventure and there was always a place, no matter how small, for one to carry such passion into one’s mission.

As he stepped up to the commander’s station, Ayabegei turned around to face towards the front of the bridge. She closed her eyes and scowled slightly as she relinquished the seat.

“Junior Lieutenant Chieuch, bring up a transmission with the Kriovitl,” Geib ordered.

Dogot about launched himself into his station, while the remainder of the crew more calmly took their positions. Those without bridge positions stood near the back in a row. Geib gestured to a confused Pip-is where it is that he should stand in that line.

“Hailing them now,” Dogot announced as he brought up a holographic projection at the front most section of the bridge. It opened to a live feed of the Kriovitl’s commander, Captain Melina, who was just placing her cap over her head.

“Cardboard Box?” she asked, addressing the entire ship. “You’ve finished all of your testing for each crew member?”

“That’s correct,” Geib confirmed. He held up a data pad while standing up from his seat.

He walked over to Dogot’s position, all while keeping his view locked on Captain Melina.

“Very good,” Captain Melina stated as she looked at a smaller projection near her hands. “We’re ahead of schedule.”

Geib handed the data pad he held over to Dogot, who plugged it into his console.

“Ahead of schedule,” Geib stated, almost as a question. “We took several hours.”

“It seems the schedule Admiral Ryitonem established assumed you’d take twice as long,” Captain Melina replied.

Geib laughed as he took his seat at the commander’s station.

“I’m glad the Admiral is underestimating us,” he commented.

Captain Melina looked up from her screen with a quizzical face.

“It means we can regularly exceed his expectations,” Geib explained.

“Let’s hope so,” Captain Melina replied dryly.

She didn’t want to encourage Geib’s attitude, even it was a refreshing change from the dry, orderly, and almost ritualistic behavior of Anlov Scholars.

Another holographic screen materialized near Captain Melina’s other hand.

“Test completions are confirmed,” Captain Melina announced nigh robotically.

“Ready Ring Jump and destination coordinates,” she ordered to her crew off screen.

Acknowledging statements were heard in the background.

“Cardboard Box, you’re cleared to Ring Jump to Rendezvous Point E002 two minutes after the Kriovitl jumps,” Captain Melina stated with clarity and focus of a seasoned commander.

Her eyes never wavered, and her voice never fluxed.

“Yes, Captain,” Geib replied.

His voice would shift and his eyes flashed with excitement.

Captain Melina ended the feed. On the Kriovitl, her second in command spoke up.

“What’ll we do if they encounter problems between the spheres?” he asked. “They could become stranded…or worse. Are we sure their new pilot and navigator are up for the task?”

“They passed all their tests. They should be able to handle the trip,” Captain Melina replied, while still facing forward.

Captain Melina really hoped that the Cardboard Box’s pilot and navigator were indeed able to handle the trip. She knew the Graduates could take over if necessary, but really hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that. If it did, she risked punishment for allowing a crew to perform who wasn’t actually able. Nevertheless, the entire crew passed all of their tests, so what really was there to worry about? Captain Melina hoped nothing.

————————————–

The Kriovitl glimmered and jolted into the black hole nearby. Within a flash, it was already a fourth of the way across the unfathomable distance between two metaverses.

The Cardboard Box, figuratively frozen in place in the sea of darkness instantly came to life and bolted towards the very edge of the black hole’s reach. There again, it fixed its position as best one could in space.

Nuta breathed slowly, but not deeply. His hands, shaking with anticipation, hovered over the controls. A flash went through his head. His training and tests boosted the development of memories and reflexes. These education systems could even hardwire information directly into the brain. From the training he had, the reflexes and knowledge they ingrained spoke up.

“Specialist Denayer,” Nuta began loudly. “Final check of destination, heading, and route confirmed?”

“Reconfirming now,” Mahie replied in equally loud a voice. “Final check of destination, heading, and route are now confirmed.”

Mahie let out a long exhale.

“We sound so pro,” she breathed.

She looked over, and slanted her head as she saw Pip-is holding his hands close to each other and furiously shake his fingers. Pip-is’ eyes met Mahie’s and he instantly put his hands to his sides. He then turned away to avoid eye contact entirely.

“Not too bad,” Ayabegei stated quietly from the back of the bridge. “You sound it, and even start to act it. We will see if you can be it.”

“Oh?” Geib called as he turned around. “Is that praise and optimistic encouragement I hear?”

Ayabegei leered at him with a straight face. When Geib turned back around, Ayabegei scowled, and flapped her lips silently as she tiled her head left and right rapidly.

“Lieutenant Rugebov would be justified in doubting,” Cisimi interjected. “Knowledge implant is only so potent and shouldn’t be used as a substitute for actual training.”

Geib pressed a command on the nearby console. He then deployed a holographic screen from his own internal computer system. It showed a feed of Nuta’s hands on the control consoles. Geib patched this feed to the console and brought up screens in front of the crewmembers.

“Watch when we jump,” Geib suggested.

“Specialist Odeylum, ready the Ring Jump drive,” he ordered.

On the screens, Nuta’s hands glided about the consoles rapidly without rest. He never stopped or paused to see which switch was which, or what screen was needed. He moved like a veteran pilot at navigating commands.

Nuta pressed a final switch and a dome on one of the consoles split open. A projection formed of the Cardboard Box with a bright gold ring flashing around it. Under the projection was a large button that pulsed slowly.

“See?” Geib noted. “Knowledge implant didn’t give him that much ability. Navigating the controls that well goes beyond the training he got with us.”

Geib looked around to see the faces of the crewmembers watching the video display. Even Suge, almost cursed with an immobile face showed the slightest hint that he too was impressed.

“The knowledge implants need a foundation,” Geib observed. “Each candidate had an intense, intrinsic, and intuitive skill in their fields. They each have themselves boosted by, not made of, the knowledge implantation.”

Every mind on the bridge wondered how Geib could’ve selected candidates, knowing that each had such talent, with the limited interaction he had with them. Each Specialist wondered what about them was so evident to him that he could get that strong of a conclusion as to their skill.

Geib himself wondered how he could do it. At each time he selected a candidate, he sometimes had slight doubts, but they were dispelled when each were able to pass the tests and interviews that Anlov Home had challenged them with. He figured it would be okay to just let the image he so fortuitously created look like he knew what he was doing all along. But, he knew that he likely just lucked out, so he wasn’t about to test his luck with that any further.

“Specialist Odeylum,” Geib announced. “Ring Jump in ten seconds. Initializing engine room override.”

The screen Geib had brought up showed Nuta’s hand shake slightly before snapping back into a solid stance.

“In three….two….one…”

Simultaneous with the syllable of the word “jump”, Nuta pressed in the button under the projection of the ship. Its orbiting gold ring became solid and started spinning around the image of the ship.

On the monitors that spanned the entirety of the bridge, a deep glistening gold hue washed over. A band of gold light spun around the entire ship. With each spin, the screen turned more solid a state of gold. Its gradual saturation of color washed across the screen like paint from an airbrush. Soon the monitors shined in a luminescent gilded glow. Its luster bathed the bridge in gold light, cascading and frolicking off the many reflective surfaces. The brightness grew and grew until the monitors abruptly cut to blank grey screens.

————————————–

Cisimi shuddered.

“Get some sleep.”

Cisimi jumped in surprise. She let out a loud chirp as she whipped around to see Suge standing directly behind her. How was he able to open the door and approach her without her hearing him or seeing him with her wide range of vision? She was always hyper attentive, so she felt particularly defeated by being snuck up on.

“You’ve been working enough. I’ll relieve you,” Suge explained, unfazed by Cisimi’s startled response.

“I should probably do more training myself,” Cisimi protested. “Practically, you would’ve just killed me.”

“It’s because you’ve been in here all day, every day since we left,” Suge replied quietly.

Cisimi’s body slumped slightly.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Cisimi consented as she stood up from her seat.

Suge didn’t reply but stepped out of the way as Cisimi stepped past him. As she exited the room, she fell onto all her legs and skittered down the hall.

Suge sat himself down at the control console and pressed his hand on a nearby panel. His credentials scanned, and the system opened for his use. His eyes looked up to the rows of pods.

His quills twitched in the slightest.

All of the pods were in combat training tutorials and tests. However, none of the occupants were Graduates. Suge saw on a biometric readout that Ocura, Mahie, and Pip-is were currently working through advanced level combat training. He saw on the log that Wits and Rio had just left, and had been going through the exact same courses.

The Interneural Enhancement and Programming System had its origins as a fantastic idea that was bound by the scientific limits of Anlov at the time. The idea was that if one dissected, fully mapped the brain, and cracked the entire enigma of how brains function and develop, that one could hardwire or modify brains with new information manually. Such an idea was a distantly hopeful idea that Anlov was content to work gradually toward it.

Mabun was less patient. One of their most novel advancements was their development of neural mapping, coding, and programing. This, combined with their advancements in cloning and gene programing, made them able to turn out massive waves of military combatants with knowledge, skill, reflexes, and talents built right in. How Mabun accomplished this enormous leap in technology covered the progress in a cloud of anguish.      

As Mabun begun its birth, sentient life forms were stealthily abducted en masse from numerous uncontacted worlds. Different sentient life forms met others for the first time in their histories only to be forced into horrific scientific study. Eager to crack the puzzle of the brain, Mabun forewent any sense of ethics or decency. Mabun laboratories were filled with terrified entities being dissected and studied. Their skulls were pulled apart and studied extensively. Their bodies were riddled with sensors and meters punched through their skin and bones. Through their sorrow, fear, and pain, these unwilling subjects gave Mabun an unprecedented success speed in deciphering how the brain and its various incarnations work, and how to manipulate them directly.

With this new knowledge, the plague of the Mabun started its spread in earnest. They now had the ability to create the military strength they needed to conquer any world they set their eyes upon. At least until Anlov learned of the Mabun’s existence and of their horrendous deeds.

Anlov was heartbroken about what to do with the vast amounts of scientific and technological achievements seized from the defeated Mabun. All of the recovered technology was placed on a barren planet in solemn procession. This barren world orbited a star that was going through its own death. As the sun detonated, it vaporized the barren world and with it, the works of Mabun.

All of the knowledge was intentionally destroyed to show that nothing was worth the blood that caked it. Every document on their research, every photograph, every schematic, every prototype was wiped away.

Mabun’s Interneural Enhancement and Programming Systems were part of that pyre, with great reluctance. But Anlov set about to continue to work towards brain mapping, coding, and programing. They eventually accomplished that goal while using none of Mabun’s progress on the subject. Anlov refused, as a united voice of every citizen, to let such technology and knowledge come to be from what the Mabun group had done. The shame was too great. They would achieve as close to the same knowledge as they could, but maintained their dignity, and the dignity of others.

While the Interneural systems were associated with an odious past, that wasn’t the entirety  of their controversy.

Anlov loved technology, but knew its dangers and detriments. They intentionally resisted the use of too advanced of machines and technology. Technology, too much, too quickly, too unexplored, too dehumanizing, or too dependency-creating, can be a disaster now or later. So Interneural Enhancement and Programming never really caught on. It didn’t replace natural learning, both in practice or in the mentalities of the Anlov people. They could build facilities to have each person just given knowledge by injection, but chose not to. Knowledge was something that had be valued and sought, not something that could be taken for granted. For Anlov, technology was to serve as an extension of the Anlov, not to replace the Anlov.

The Anlov military was the biggest user of Interneural Enhancement and Programming behind medical rehabilitation. However, they never had it as the main method of education. They only ever used it as a supplement to already established knowledge. It would also be used when knowledge acquisition through the natural means would simply take too long, and action was required immediately.

Suge scrolled through the biometric read-outs of those inside the education pods. He brought up a view of the muscle structures of the young Senguin, Rio. Her muscles tensed and pulsed as she went through the training. She was undergoing basic virtual reality training that was being fed directly into her brain. While her body was immobilized, impulses from the brain to move and respond to the virtual world occasionally reflected in her muscles.

Suge’s eyes narrowed as he saw the same muscle responses in each person in training. He knew that VR training wasn’t nearly a suitable replacement for actual training. It only taught a little bit of the world of combat. It didn’t teach how your body how to respond or how to deal with pain. VR training didn’t put your body into shape or synchronize it to your thoughts or reflexes.

There were more advanced models of these pods that countered those shortcomings. They also boosted muscle and nerve growth to make the trainees more physically toned and coordinated with their brains. But even those had limitations. While you have the brain and body, it does nothing for your heart or stomach. In virtual reality, you have the awareness that you’re suspended from danger. If you died in the simulator, you just restarted. If your comrades died, they didn’t in reality. You weren’t prepared through virtual reality for when you hold your friend’s hand as they gasped their last breath. You weren’t prepared for how to deal with the emotions you felt in reality. Sure, the programing could suppress or even delete emotional capacity, but Anlov openly rejected such an idea. Mabun had no problem removing their soldier’s capacities to feel anything.

If Mabun gave the Ultraverse anything, it was an example of how not to be.

Suge reviewed through which specific combat situations the crewmembers were in and had been training previously in. Suge’s quills quivered as he watched feeds of the training programs. He noted to himself that he would need to start an intense physical training regimen for the crew.

Suge issued an override on his console. Each occupied pods hissed and opened slowly. Their occupants sluggishly stood themselves up from the padded bottoms of the pods.

“Why’du stop it?” Pip-is asked while he put on his glasses that he set aside in his pod.

While many had slurred speech after being yanked from the simulation, his was always this disjointed.

Suge stood up and held his arm out towards the exit door.

“That’ll be enough for now,” he stated with a voice as unwavering as himself.

“You should each get some rest before we reach our destination.”

Pip-is, who was always spewing questions at the slightest bit of confusion, found himself unable to raise any to the quiet mountain that was Suge Vihili.

Pip-is and the others slowly staggered out of the room, hobbling slightly as their limbs were still waking. Pip-is stumbled and fell right towards Suge. Pip-is’ arms spun frantically as he desperately tried to regain his balance.

Suge moved his arm slowly through the slow motion one perceives as they fall. Pip-is reached his arm up to catch it. The comfort was revealed to be an illusion as Suge rotated backward on his left heel.

Solid ground welcomed Pip-is’ face as the time resumed its normal flow.

“What the hell did you do that for?!” Ocura shouted as she and Mahie rushed over as best they could to help Pip-is to his feet.

Mahie picked up his glasses, fortunately intact, off the floor. Pip-is had a growing redness around his eyes where his glasses got pushed into him from his impact.

Suge merely stared down on them without saying a word. His unshifting face ran chills through each of the three. His chest didn’t move with his breath, his eyes didn’t blink, and his quills were pointed straight back without shaking a bit. He was a solid cliff face. Only his eyes, like hungry scavengers nested in the cliffside, tracked the three as they stood up.

“Well?” Ocura continued.

Suge waited until all three were standing on their own before his solid state shifted with his sudden movement towards the exit, where he turned to face them again.

“Training in virtual reality still leaves the body untrained,” Suge stated calmly, but piercingly.

Pip-is, Mahie, and Ocura all knew that, but hadn’t really given it much thought until now. We often work with a knowledge established in the background, but completely overlook it. We’re so used to the ground being under our feet, we hardly notice when it isn’t.

“I’ll begin mandatory physical training effective tomorrow,” Suge declared. “Now get some rest.”

————————————–

A golden sphere materialized not far from the Kriovitl. It spun, gradually slowing to reveal a golden ring encircling the Cardboard Box. Aboard the Kriovitl, Captain Melina mentally sighed a breath of relief. She watched from monitor in her quarters as she changed out of her sleepwear and into her officer’s uniform.

“Captain, the Cardboard Box has arrived in our sector,” her lieutenant reported over the comm in the room. “Its status is normal with no signs of damage or concern. It’s exchanged a nod with the Kriovitl.”

Captain Melina could see all that, including the reading of the nod, which was simply a term meaning a ship to ship acknowledgement or greeting. She was still supposed to be sleeping, hence why her lieutenant had reported it. However, she had been anxious about the ship she escorted. The idea of a small crew composed of several non-Graduates in an outdated, but retrofitted ship, researching through stealth was one that didn’t allow much less than anxiety.

“Affirmative Lieutenant,” Captain Melina acknowledged over the comm. “I’ll be making my way to the bridge now. Your shift is over. Rotate out.”

“Yes Captain,” the lieutenant replied as he signed off.

Captain Melina stood in front of her closed door, lost in thought.

“Maybe this will turn out well after all,” she thought to herself. “At least it won’t turn out horrible. I won’t allow that.”

As she finished tapping down her doubts, she left her room and headed for the bridge.

————————————–

“Congratulations,” Geib announced to the sparsely populated bridge. “Our Specialists got us through our first ultra-universal jump.”

“You say that like you had a shadow of a doubt,” Nuta feigned offense.

“Is this going to be the normal way you two talk?  Should I do the same?” Mahie asked with exasperation as she rubbed her eyes.

“Sorry about that,” Geib replied with a quieter voice. “It’ll be getting a bit loud now though.”

Mahie slumped back in her seat and groaned.

“I haven’t gotten any sleep since we left,” Mahie fussed. “How can you sleep? There’s no noise. No background noise at all is creepy.”

She slumped forward onto the console in front of her, almost with a slam. She buried her head in her folded arms and continued to fuss. Her words were lost in the muffling, but it was doubtful that it was anything beyond complaints.

“Oh yeah. Vihili told me he was going to start up some physical training later today,” Geib noted as he rubbed the side of his head.

Mahie slumped back again and let out exhausted, close-to-genuine sobs as she had forgotten all about that.

“We’ll discuss that,” Geib stated as he hopped out of the commander’s seat.

He pulled a small data card from the communications console.

“Thank you, Kriovitl,” he stated over the audio feed, whose status was projected on screen.

Kriovitl sent a nod, and the projection faded.

“Comm, open to entire ship,” Geib ordered loudly, looking upward like he was speaking to some deity.

But nothing happened. Geib realized the age of the ship, and glanced around to see how many witnessed this. He pressed a switch at the nearest console, opening the comms to broadcast to the entire ship.

“Crew of the Cardboard Box,” Geib announced in an emphatic manner. “Prep yourself and meet in the conference room on the top deck of the main body. We’ll begin mission briefing shortly.”

“Close comm,” he added quietly.

Another tone sounded.

Geib turned to Mahie and Nuta.

“Let’s go.”

————————————–

Geib took the data card he took from the bridge and placed it into a console in the wall. Holographic projections materialized in front of each crew member. T

“Now the Specialists didn’t get this packet at Anlov Home, so this copy will stay on board here,” Geib explained. “The information is to never leave this ship.”

When Geib gave such grave orders, every bit of jovial humor faded instantly from his face.

“Does everyone understand this?!” Geib almost shouted.

Ambient sounds instantly stopped. Geib locked eyes with each Specialist until they each gave some confirmation. 

“Good,” Geib continued.

He pressed some commands on a holographic screen in front of him. A three dimensional projection of the nearby galaxy took shape. Filled with vivid color and detail, the map spun and pulsed. It so accurately reflected its subject that it even moved with the galaxy’s natural breathing and spin. It expanded outward so that the entire room was within the galaxy. Suns, planets, and entire solar systems flew past the heads of those seated. Finally, this voyage through the galaxy came to a stop at a single star and the planets that surrounded it. Its sun sat at the very center of the room. Its resident planets orbited around the sun, gliding noiselessly around the table. They each rotated and orbited accurate to their actual paths around a flashing and flickering sun.

Pip-is slowly extended his hand into the path of the outermost planet’s orbit. The tiny planet screamed helplessly on its established orbit right into the back of a giant hand. It passed through him, and continued its journey around the sun. This holographic display was so realistic that Pip-is expected to feel the planet collide with his hand.

The map zoomed in closer, sending the outer planets through a few of the surrounding crewmembers. It stopped with the fourth planet from the sun now orbited a path around the outer edge of the table.

“Junior Lieutenant Edesium,” Geib called as Kazochi stood up. “Give us some history.”

Kazochi deployed her own projection from her internal computer. She pressed some commands and displays formed in front of each crew member.

“The planet Thedeen,” Kazochi began.

“It begun colonization from Anlov Home in the Fourth Era, and was fully established within two years,” Kazochi explained. “It wasn’t too noteworthy of a settlement though, and was overshadowed in prominence by others. They remained relatively synced with Anlov Home’s progress of technology and social systems until it suddenly collapsed seventy-six years after founding. We began to send relief support soon thereafter.”

Each holographic display screens showed a slide show of multiple different clips were shown of Anlov Relief ships arriving, relief crews helping citizens, and Anlov officials studying abandoned cities.

“It wasn’t entirely certain what caused this, as the locals alluded to an unusual explanation” Kazochi began to explain, noticing that Pip-is was about to raise a question.

Pip-is lowered his hand, his question being answered.

“The locals of Thedeen claimed that so many of its people were tempted and lead to venture into a glistening underworld,” Kazochi detailed as she showed clips of citizens showing relief crews different drawings. “This underworld lured them in with promises of infinite happiness, only to disappear, never to be seen again.”

“This underworld, and any official documentation of it was destroyed before our relief crews arrived, so we had no idea if we could even verify the existence of whatever this underworld was,” Kazochi lamented with a sound of sadness in her voice.

“Or more likely, whatever it was they mistook for some underworld,” Ayabegei added.

“Exactly,” Kazochi replied. “Whether it was a real underworld or the conclusion they reached is unknown.”

Kazochi showed slides of the citizens living a more rural life with limited technology. Space ports were panned over to show nature’s growth slowly reclaiming them.

“After Anlov Home’s relief support, the Thedeen people stressed that they wanted to return to a more simple time. They intentionally keep their technology at the same level as when they founded,” Kazochi continued.

“While they haven’t stated it outright, they have made it clear they resent technology and Anlov influence in particular as they claim that it gave way to that glimmering underworld.”

Clips showing Thedeen citizens, now dressed in older clothing styles, as they lead a small group of Anlov wearing more contemporary clothing through a tour of their village.

“They’re willing to let us visit, and still keep in minimal contact, but have done their best to create an isolated world.”

A following clip was actually a series of clips in split screen. Each video showed drawings of the underworld. One particular image was seen on each one of an isosceles triangle with equal angles and sides, with a shorter square behind it. Both of the upper two corners of the square stuck from the two standing sides of the triangle.

“This symbol was regularly depicted as the entrance to the underworld,” Kazochi stated. “Senior Lieutenant Zevtroz?”

Geib stood back up while Kazochi took her seat.

A new image was shown, but it wasn’t a video clip. Instead, it was a single frame of a shot taken from a super-long range observational satellite. It had been observing from outside the solar system, past the planet Thedeen. A strip of the planet Thedeen could be seen in the corner of still shot. One could see the terrain of the planet from what little was seen. A glowing square reticle formed around the base of a single isolated mountain. It expanded the image within to encompass the entire screen.

While the pixels were blurry, clouds and foliage blocked some of the view, the shape of an isosceles triangle with a smaller square behind it was clear enough identify.

“This image was captured with no intent to even have Thedeen in the shot,” Geib explained.

“This brings us to our mission,” Geib announced as he brought up an enlarged projection of the planet Thedeen.

It slowly spun above the center of the table. Its clouds and oceans swirled slowly, showing an extreme level of detail in Anlov’s maps. A glowing cube formed on a large continent north of its equator. The planet spun unnaturally so that the continent was at the top of the sphere. The projection lowered and magnified so that the surface of the planet marked by the cube covered the surface of the circular table. An isolated mountain stood tall in the middle of a clearing within a large forest. Another glowing cube formed on the side of the mountain. It highlighted the location of the symbol of the square surrounded triangle.

“Our mission is to investigate this mountain while remaining unseen to the local population,” Geib declared.

He could see in the corner of his eye, Rio tilting her head as she looked at the projection in front of her.

“This underworld is a great taboo to the residents, and they’d likely be very upset if they found out we were looking into it,” he noted.

“Then why sh’we ‘nvestigate ‘t?” Pip-is blurted out. “If’t’s taboo to ‘em, why don’ we jus’ lev’it alone?”

Geib stood still, staring directly forward. He finally turned to face Pip-is.

“During briefing, one will raise their hand, and speak when they’re are called on,” Geib ordered.

Pip-is sunk low in his seat.

“We should investigate this because this superstition might actually be a credible threat to life,” Geib resumed. “If it’s something that truly can make people disappear in mass, and invoke such fear that the residents want to destroy all trace of it, we have a responsibility to determine its threat. We’ll maintain the integrity of whatever we find and give the due respect it deserves.”

“We’ll move the ship in closer, and get a better perspective of the surroundings to plan our landing,” Geib planned. “We’ll back in this room shortly.”

Geib shut off all of the projections.

“Cardboard Box crew to your stations. You’re dismissed.”

————————————–

The sea of space near the black hole had only these two residents. The Kriovitl and Cardboard Box stood out as the only objects to be seen; the single blemishes on a solid black tapestry.

This black background slowly shown through the two ships, both fading into the nothingness and disappeared as ghosts.

No sensor would detect anything in the area of space they had just been in. Even the most advanced sensor would barely register a reading as the two ships Ring Jumped while in stealth.

————————————–

If one were looking into the sky from anywhere in the nearby galaxy, with any kind of scope or sensor, they would have no idea that two ships had just materialized outside the edges of the galaxy. There wasn’t a shimmer of light, nor a disruption that couldn’t be attributed to the natural flow of matter. One had to know they were there.

Even the Kriovitl couldn’t see or detect the Cardboard Box on its own accord. Their sensors only had a super imposed outline on their read-outs as to where the Cardboard Box was saying it was. This information was only due to the nanoscopic burst transmissions the Cardboard Box was sending occasionally, detailing its position.

“Final sortie confirmation requested,” came a transmission from the Cardboard Box.

“Captain?” the comm officer called.

Captain Melina leaned forward slightly, resting her head on her fist. Her blinks were slow and steady. She leaned back to her normal posture.

“Final sortie confirmed,” she repeated calmly, but with the trace of vigor.

As the transmission was sent, the outline of the Cardboard Box’s position disappeared from the Kriovitl’s scope.

————————————–

“It’s surreal, isn’t it?” Dogot asked over to Nuta.

Dogot didn’t wait for an answer and continued musing out loud.

“To know that we’re completely invisible to anyone who could see us. An uncontacted civilization could be looking up into the sky, wondering if they were alone in their universe, not realizing they’re looking directly through a visitor.”

Nuta turned to look down on the world below, shown on the surrounding monitors. Very surreal indeed.

“Bring us in above the mountain,” Geib ordered.

“Coordinates relayed,” Mahie chirped from behind her console.

Confliction swam in Geib. His crew was operating so professionally and even anticipating what needed to be done. He watched as Nuta effortlessly flew to the marked coordinates and set the ship in geosynchronous orbit above the mountain. He wanted to let some of social nature shine through, but knew he needed to be more like the model of a commander. Captain Melina personified that behavior, and such behavior was stressed throughout his schooling in the Anlov Scholar Program, but it never felt comfortable for him. He figured a crew would serve with more energy if they were imbued with a strong sense of comradery. Maybe he could still do that, but just have it be at a lesser level.

“Position is locked and fixed,” Nuta acknowledged.

“Bridge crew, depart for the conference room,” Geib ordered.

As they left, Geib opened the comm to broadcast to the entire ship.

“All crew report to the conference room on the top level, hence forth called the Briefing Room,” Geib announced. “Teliar, Ocura, Rio, and Cisimi, I’ll need you present but keep a live feed of the engines and stealth arrays relayed to screens in the conference room, er Briefing Room.”

————————————–

A holographic projection of the mountain and its surrounding forest stood in front of the assembled crew. This projection was more current as some of the clearings had been reclaimed while some new clearings had formed. There was still the circular meadow surrounding the base of the mountain. On the mountain’s eastern face, on a recessed metallic-like surface, was the image of the triangle and square.

“So it must’ve been some seismic disruption that exposed this door,” Kazochi commented.

Geib again saw a strange face on Rio.

“Specialist Rio Reezmin,” Geib called.

Rio turned in surprise to look at him. Her eyes darted around the table quickly as she saw everyone shift their gaze to her.

“What?” she asked curtly.

“You’ve something to say?” Geib asked. “Your face says you do.”

Rio’s eyes went back to face the projection and its standing mountain.

“That isn’t a mountain,” Rio declared with the slight ring of annoyance. “Not a natural one anyway. You can tell by the sides; it looks like the earth was placed and shaped to cover something up.”

She looked up from the projection and scanned around her. All eyes were on her. Rather than sink into her seat, she felt herself tense up, and lean upward.

“So I like geology!” she snapped. “So what?!”

She felt the slightest bit of angst lift away as she saw Kazochi smile to the others.

“We keep lucking out. We have a geologist amongst our crew too,” Kazochi commented.

“Our away team will consist of Lieutenant Rugebov, Junior Lieutenant Edesium, and Junior Lieutenant Vihili,” Geib announced.

Suge raised his hand slowly, but assuredly.

“Junior Lieutenant Vihili?”

“I had informed you that I had wished to begin a physical training regimen starting today,” Vihili reminded.

“Oh yeah,” Geib paused.

“Let’s establish our deployment plan. Then we’ll see who can take your place,” Geib continued as he brought up a smaller projection of the table’s visual onto his open hand.

He “held” a saucer of a hologram in his hand, with the mountain and surroundings represented on it. He drew his fingers with his other hand through the hologram effecting the larger image on the table.

“We have a series of clearings within a kilometer of the mountain,” Geib stated, forming arrows hovering, pointing down at the meadows on the larger projection.

“Of these four, this one is the widest to accommodate our dropship landing and parking,” he continued, enlarging the hovering arrow over the widest clearing.

One of the other arrows flashed slightly.

“However, that one and this one can accommodate the ship being locked in a hover state, and have our away team repel down to the surface. They’ll be lifted back up when leaving.”

Geib clasped his fingers together a few times with his palm facing down towards the projection in his hand. His representation zoomed out, as did the one projected on the center table. The mountain and forest were smaller and at one end of the table, while at the other end was a small village.

“We have this village six kilometers away to the south,” Geib cautioned. “Topographical thermal and pheromone tracking/scanning conducted by Specialist Denayer indicates that the residents of this village very rarely venture into the forest, let alone anywhere near the mountain. Well, the fake mountain anyway.”

“The scans, combined with a visual recon of the village, shows that there is a hunter-trapper in that village. It showed that a single person would occasionally venture through the forest, and actually came in contact with the mountain. We aren’t able to locate this hunter at the moment, but do have a solid feed on his residence and the village itself. We need to plan for the possibility that this hunter is out and about in the forest when we visit.”

“We don’t want this hunter stumbling upon our parked ship,” Geib commented. “It’d certainly strike them as strange that their weapon fired across the clearing, just to hit something halfway through.”

“For this reason, the away team will park in a lifted hover at this clearing, repel down, and conduct their investigation,” Geib plotted as he zoomed back in on the mountain and its forest.

He highlighted the second largest clearing, the one that had a flashing arrow pointed above it.

“Specialist Huhoff-Ye,” Geib called over to Wits. “You’ve completed your analysis of the clothing styles?”

Wits’ role was a bit of a catchall. Her primary role was the catalog of finds, data, and records. She was also in charge of managing the hard drives and vault on the lower level that held the finds or samples they would collect. Furthermore, she was also in charge of general cleric work of the waves of files and documentation used by Anlov. While it might seems she was simply a secretary or file clerk, in reality a real skill was needed to fulfill the role. In fact, she was more like an archeologist. She was able to dig through the files and logs of information to find what they needed. She needed to quickly analyze, record, and locate single grains of sand in a massive desert.

Wits pulled her tentacles across a spinning circular holographic display from her own internal computer. She had caught on very quickly with how to use it and had personalized the projection pattern to better suit her appendages.

Screens formed in front of each crewmember. On the projections came several still images of the locals, most were full body shots. Each figure was doing a different task such as farming, sewing, or other domestic routines. They were each dressed uniformly in drab clothing that covered almost the entire body.

“The Thedeen population almost all dress in uniforms with slight variations based on gender,” Wits reported. “These differences being that the male has their forehead covered with a sash.”

Another still frame materialized of a Thedeen crowd. In one particular corner, there were a four Thedeen walking in a group that was given a wide berth by the other Thedeen citizens. This group was dressed fully in clothing with no visible sign of their bodies or skin underneath.

“These monks however, differ from the established trend. They dress head to toe and are given a wide berth by the others,” Wits continued, voice processor hissing and popping with the end of words.

She reached a tentacle over and adjusted some dials on her voice processor, fading the hissing.

“The monk’s robes are made of an intentionally course material, and intended to be poorly ventilated. We can still print them with our autoprinter though,” she continued.

Mahie raised her hand with the abrupt speed of a cannon.

“Specialist Denayer?” Geib acknowledged.

“We aren’t going to impersonate these monks, are we?” she asked with shaking voice.

“It’d be the best disguise we could hope to use,” Geib replied.

“But they’re religious figures,” Mahie protested. “You can’t just impersonate them. It’s bad enough we’re going into a taboo area, but you want us to wear their faith in vain?”

Geib breathed out, closed his eyes, and nodded slowly.

“I get your concerns,” Geib replied, still with his eyes closed.

He looked up to make eye contact with her.

“I don’t like it either. We should be respectful to their beliefs and their cultures, even if they don’t know we’re here,” he continued. “We’re going against their taboo. That’ll be enough.”

He turned to Wits.

“Is there any other way we could be disguised?” he asked.

He turned to face each crewmember in a sweeping glance.

“Any ideas?”

“There are no other clothing styles?” Kazochi asked. “No differences between regions?”

“There are no others,” Wits replied solemnly.

“Do they get any other visitors besides Anlov tourists?” Nuta asked.

“Yes,” Ayabegei confirmed. “But we couldn’t implicate them if we were discovered.”

Each crewmember was again silent in their brainstorming.

“Wha’bout animals?” Pip-is asked out of the blue.

Everyone turned to face him. One could almost imply a solid swoosh by this collaborated movement.

“I mean…there’re animals here?” Pip-is muttered. “Why don’ we wear an’nimal disguise?”

“Wits?” Geib turned to her. “What wildlife do we have here on Thedeen?”

Wits hesitated before she turned her tentacles back to her computer. Her limbs, like the floating of plants under an ocean, waved about the holographic projection in front of her. The slightest movement of her limbs could be seen as just trace wiggles. In reality, each slight twitch was intentionally planned and coordinated.

Images and documents swirled about the holographic sphere in front of Wits. Her slight touch caused some to shrink, expand, move, or fade away. It was like watching how you imagine a brain operates. It was a jumble of information that required a careful inspection to find what was needed.

Each projection updated with different renderings of wildlife native to Thedeen.

“Most of the life forms are domesticated livestock brought. They haven’t varied significantly since their ancestors were first brought here,” Wits explained. “As for wild life, it’s mostly smaller life forms. They were descendants of lost or abandoned animals. While they’ve evolved to be larger, there are none quiet large enough to hide someone within.”

“We wouldn’t want to be killed by our wayward hunter either, so it’s just as well,” Geib remarked. “How about their indriq? Are they large enough?”

Wits brought up images of different indriq that had been recorded on their flight over.

“The indriq raised on Thedeen are leaner in width and lower stature than on Anlov Home,” Wits replied. “They’re used here more for agrarian purposes rather than food.”

“But they’d be large enough to hide any of us, except myself.”

“So Junior Lieutenant La-Naraz would be able to fit inside one without too much discomfort or disrupting this disguise?” Geib inquired.

Cisimi’s head did its usual rolls and tilts. She knew Geib wasn’t trying to insult her. She knew her physical profile made disguises difficult. She did raise one of her claw like hands.

“La-Naraz?”

“Won’t I be needed here to monitor the stealth array?” she asked.

“I’ll take over for that. You should go since you know the most about structural integrities outside of our engineers, who can’t deploy on this mission,” Geib explained.

His explanation must’ve sufficed as her shakes paused.

Now Nuta raised his hand.

“Specialist Odeylum?”

“Wait, never mind,” Nuta dismissed as he brought his hand down. “I just remembered.”

Geib continued looking directly at him.

“I was going to ask why we don’t just have stealth suits, and forego this disguise thing,” Nuta explained. “But I remembered that not having those suits is part of our probation.”

“Going back to those disguises,” Geib turned back to Wits.

“Can the autoprinter replicate their skin, hair, and tissue enough to make a decent disguise?”

“It should be able to. It can even render false eyes and teeth,” Wits answered.

“I’d forgotten how good those printers were. Our probation forces us to be more creative than just using stealth suits,” Geib thought to himself.

“Then the problem becomes how to make them move realistically all while having someone inside,” Wits added.

Teliar shot his hand into the air. He then put both in the air.

“Specialist Teliar Reezmin?”

“I can do that,” he confidently announced. “I can build some robotic frames that can be controlled and move to imitate their normal body movements.”

Kazochi raised her hand.

“How fast can you get those built and functional?” Geib asked Teliar

“I have them half-finished already,” Teliar declared, pointing to his head. “I’ll need some videos of the indriq’s movements, and I can get started right away. Probably finished by tomorrow, since I’ll be in the physical training.”

“You, Specialist Rio Reezmin, Specialist Ocura Reezmin, and Specialist Huhoff-Ye will be excused from the physical training,” Geib ordered. “Specialist Huhoff-Ye will be excused first to get all the needed videos to the engineers. Then you’ll operate the autoprinter to provide all the other materials for these disguises.”

“I imagine Junior Lieutenant Vihili will work you twice as hard tomorrow to make up the difference for missing today,” Geib stated, nodding towards Suge.

Geib could almost swear he saw the muscles at the corner of Suge’s lips twitch upward for a microsecond before locking back down in a solid line.

“Junior Lieutenant Edesium? You had something to say earlier,” Geib finally addressed.

“I was going to ask how soon Specialist Teliar Reezmin would have these constructs finished,” she replied.

“Ok, no more hand raising,” Geib relented. “Just be respectful and patient in addressing your questions and comments. Don’t make me have to re-implement the rule.”

“Lieutenant Rugebov, Junior Lieutenants Edesium and La-Naraz,” Geib ordered. “Assist the engineers by providing the necessary details, parameters, and functions you’d require of these disguises. I leave those aspects to you, as you’ll be the ones using them.”

“Specialists Odeylum, Lyr, and Denayer, report to Junior Lieutenant Vihili for your combat training. We’ll move the ship to the far side of Thedeen’s moon until tomorrow. Crew, you’re dismissed.”

————————————–

The morning breeze whipped lazily through the trees. Small birds remain seated atop the rustling branches.

A Thedeen noticed that some of the birds taking flight from distant trees beyond his view. Their songs fell into the eavesdropping hunter’s ears.

“Something has startled them,” he thought to himself. “It could be game, but so high in the trees?”

The hunter slowly oozed forward through the brush, moving with the swift patience of the predator. He was the largest predator in these woods, but even the largest predator had to be careful not to scare away their meal before they were ready to strike.

Whatever was scaring these animals, the hunter was sure he would find it.

————————————–

“I cannot imagine a more auspicious start than this,” Ayabegei commented sarcastically.

Three indriqs clopped slowly and clumsily through the forest’s undergrowth. They grunted as their hooves got caught on roots or vines, and tugged their way out. Two were males, and one was a female. The female may have been calving lately as it was a bit wider than normal.

“You don’t think it’s a good omen that your first mission has you inside a robotic indriq to avoid contact with the locals, while investigating a mythical underworld?” Kazochi asked facetiously.

“This better not become in any way historic,” Ayabegei added.

“You’ve another three kilometers approximately,” Dogot reported over the comm.

Inside the indriqs, Kazochi, Cisimi, and Ayabegei were hunched low in a horizontal posture, lying inside a mechanized skeleton. Their limbs were kept out of the way of the moving legs and motors. In front of them was a small console and control system. A HUD surrounded their heads patching surrounding feeds from micro cameras that were stitched into the “skins” of the disguises.

The controls were intentionally sluggish to imitate the indriq’s slow ambling. Audio players snorted as they beasts trotted, and their ears, and tails flicked to shoo away insects. All of these behaviors were programmed in to be ambient effects and some to trigger with certain actions.

To their left, the three could see the base of the mountain through roughly a kilometer of trees. They were spiraling in counterclockwise direction towards the reveled door.

“Heads up away team,” Dogot announced. “You have a thermal signature heading towards your position from the east.”

“It’s downwind from you, so remember, you wouldn’t be able to detect it.”

All three of the away teams brought up separate screens locked in the eastern direction. While they had to maintain their animal disguise, they could at least know when this approaching person was close enough to do damage. The camera feed switched periodically to a thermal view, but still showed nothing.

They picked up their pace, their indriq disguises huffing and grunting as they were pushed to move quicker. Finally, having cycled around the mountain enough, a large metal door appeared in the mountain’s face.

Their cameras finally picked up the signature of a humanoid shape stalking through the brush.

Ayabegei, Kazochi, and Cisimi each had their knuckles tense around their controls as they saw the outline raise a weapon to eye level.

“We are standing by to deploy point shielding,” Ayabegei stated, finger floating above a switch that would deploy stealth shield emitters from the dropship.

The multicolored form’s outline became clearer. With the morning breeze blowing, a large cloak parted to show a Thedeen in typical dress underneath. Its weapon was trained directly ahead towards the three indriqs. Its scope formed a glare as it pointed upward. But it quickly lowered its weapon, before bringing it back up just as rapidly. Its glare was still present on the scope as whoever looked through it was looking past the three indriqs.

Every trace of hunter instinct and care was thrown aside as the hunting Thedeen quickly turned around and sprinted through the trees.

“He’s running away,” Dogot commented.

“He saw the door,” Cisimi concluded, voice rising.

“We need to hurry,” Kazochi implored, pushing her disguise to move at an even faster pace.

Smaller rodents and life forms fled the path of the three stampeding indriqs. Even pucin, the carnivorous pack hunters of the forest quickly vacated ambush points as their prey stormed forward. They weren’t about to be stomped to death. 

Brush and undergrowth burst outward from the forest as the three indriqs tore through the tree line and into the grove surrounding the mountain. Birds scattered into the skies signaling the beasts’ exit near their trees.

The three indriqs halted suddenly in front of the mountain’s exposed door. Echoing around the meadow were the huffs, pants, and snorts of the programmed disguises.

“Junior Lieutenant Rib Chieuch,” Kazochi opened. “Any signatures in visual range?”

“None.”

One of the indriqs split along a vertical seam above its right shoulder. Its fake skin and muscle folded back as the disguise opened. Kazochi climbed out and scurried over to the large door.

The door was three times her height and just as wide. It didn’t appear to be a door, as it didn’t look like it would open. It looked only like a carving on the wall. 

“Setting up a relay,” Kazochi announced as she pulled a small box from her pack. “Rib Chieuch, can you open it?”

“I can try,” Dogot answered. “This definitely seems like Lyr’s thing. Is he almost done with training?”

“Hm, it looks like it was locked with multiple codes,” he muttered out loud. “It had one code initially, but it looks like they added multiple code layers right before it was sealed last.”

Kazochi looked back to the other indriqs. Was this really a good idea? Were the locals justified in their avoidance of this place?

A shudder racked the wall, releasing stones to fall from around the door. Of the shape on the door, the triangle slid down while the square split apart vertically. They parted, left and right, revealing a dark tunnel into the world within.

“I got it,” Dogot announced. “Oh. You see that already.”

“Be very careful in there,” Geib ordered.

“We’re heading in now,” Kazochi announced as she walked back to her disguise.

Both of the other indriqs slowly trotted inside the dark tunnel. Kazochi leaned inside her disguise and pressed a command into its controls. This indriq, with a ghastly opening on its side, followed behind her as she stepped inside. She picked up the relay box, keeping the code sequence recorded.

The underworld’s doors screeched shut behind them.

————————————–

“Can we reach them on the comm?” Geib asked.

Dogot pressed at the various controls at the communications station. His presses didn’t express unfamiliarity with the controls, but rather the use of all of its functions.

“No,” Dogot replied. “The walls are too thick or there is some other interference.”

A small audio signal sounded from the communications station.

“Wait, I have a faint signature relaying off the dropship,” Dogot announced.

“Have them set up audio relays,” Geib quickly ordered.

“Away team,” Dogot called. “Set up relays at regular intervals to maintain communication.”

There was no response from the faint hum emitting from the station. Dogot pressed another series of commands in his console. A faint clicking was heard through the transmission.

“They have to use signal cues. Audio feeds won’t work,” Dogot declared as he spun around to face Geib.

“They coded that they’re setting up relays though, even if their communication will be choppy,” Dogot explained.

“Good,” Geib replied, relaxing slightly in his seat.

This scenario wasn’t as “good” as he had wanted though.

“Junior Lieutenant Vihili,” Geib called over a communication channel. “Is the training session for today nearly complete?”

There wasn’t an instantaneous response. 

“We aren’t finished yet Commander,” Suge eventually replied. “Two hours at least.”

Groaning could be heard in the background.

“Correction Commander: it’ll be three hours at least.”

No further groans were sounded.

“Understood,” Geib acknowledged before closing the channel.

He brought up projections of the continuing thermal scans around of the forest, mountain, and nearby village.

“Looks like whoever we scared is almost to the village,” Dogot observed.

Geib nodded, eyes focused on the glowing shape bolting through the forest.

————————————–

Three beams of light cut through the fog of darkness. They reflected off of the polished walls, bathing the hallway in a dull glow. While the walls and surfaces lent the idea of technological prowess, the layers of dust on surfaces and piles of dirt in the corners muffled this image.

“Junior Lieutenant La-Naraz? Deploy a cartographer drone,” Ayabegei ordered.

Her voice was hollow as it traveled through the rebreather mask she wore. Kazochi and Cisimi each wore similar masks. Lacking enough circulation and necessary gases, the air within wasn’t breathable.

Cisimi pulled a small ball from her pouch and threw it down the hall. As it took to the air, it began to float on its own. It stopped a few meters from them before rapidly bolting around the halls, ceiling, and floor. It darted back and forth, like it were bouncing against the walls, and yet no sound was heard. Just as suddenly, it flew back to Cisimi’s waiting hand. On a spare claw, a projection formed a rough map of the underworld beyond. Its lines were blurry, but provided enough detail to show how this massive structure was organized.

Its layout was like a squat tree. The corridor the away team continued to walk down would lead to a large central shaft in the center. Elevators and stairs encircled this central trunk, leading to the upper levels. Surrounding the center of the bottom floor, and stretching outward to the farthest edges of the floor were hundreds of uniform chambers. There were several other corridors branching into these clusters of rooms like leaves to a tree branch. The map couldn’t render much beyond the second level above, but from what could be seen it was organized in the same way as the bottom floor while covering less area.

Kazochi, Ayabegei, and Cisimi treaded forth in silence as their footsteps sent clouds of dust fleeing like clusters of insects. It was silent, as this grime muffled their steps. Dull glimmers from the reflected lights chased away many feelings of gloom. Trash and litter now started making an appearance along the walls. There were bags of different refuse, empty food containers, scattered clothes and luggage

All members of the away team crouched over the various items. Deploying collapsible poles with slight hooks at the tips, they carefully opened and inspected the items, always being sure to return them to their original position.

“The luggage cases are like those used for going on vacations,” Kazochi commented.

“The food containers were cleaned for every drop and crumb,” Cisimi observed.

Ayabegei folded a cloth back over the jar it original covered.

“I found a jar of waste,” she stated calmly, despite the disgusting nature of the find.

Along the pristine walls, more trash gradually accumulated. Light reflecting off the immaculate walls lit a world of dilapidation.

One section of the wall finally differed from its pristine state. A large arrow was painted on the wall. Within it read “Main reception and waiting area. Welcome!” Beneath the arrow were hastily written scribbles.

“’I don’t want to wait’,” Kazochi read quietly aloud.

Each crew member’s body camera captured this image of graffiti written by an unknown hand.  After parting with this window into a mind, they continued down the hall’s long expanse. There were unpowered conveyor belts in the floor and accompanying hand rails.  Cues and gateways were growing more common. Many barricades and turnstiles were pulled from their mounts and strewn along the halls. Some were even arranged to make a hut. It was empty and had only tatters of cloth hanging from it.

The away team’s lights fanned out as they left the hall and stepped into the reception area. The entire space was nearly a kilometer wide in all directions. Large walls and dividers cut through the middle of this massive chamber, creating a front and rear half. In the front half, queues were painted on the floor leading to a bank of desks. Above this reception area was a large plague on the wall.

“Better Realities”

Past the dividing walls, and the makeshift ladders placed against them, were tunnels in every direction. Banks of elevators were frozen in place at various heights. Expansive staircases climbed to each floor of this central shaft. Light from the three Scholar’s body mounted lamps didn’t reflect strong enough to illuminate all the way up, so the stairs merely trailed off into the darkness.

Covering every inch of the floor, every surface, inside some of the sealed elevators, draped along the stairs and railings lay countless remains.

————————————–

“Whoever it is, they’re back in the village now,” Dogot reported over the comm.

“I’m on my way,” Geib replied as he stepped out of the large storage bay, leaving Suge with the Specialists.

Geib jogged down the hall, and up the narrow staircase to the top level of the main structure.

“What does it look like they’re doing?” Geib asked as he stepped through the doors onto the bridge.

Dogot brought up the projection on the front section of the surrounding monitor. It was no longer a thermal scan, but a live shot from above the nearby village. One of the villagers carried his weapon in one hand and his cloak under that same arm. He was speaking, very animatedly, to three other Thedeen villagers. Two of them wore sashes across their heads, and one was without. As they listened to this hunter, they looked at each other. They grabbed the man by the arm, and pulled him quickly into a nearby dwelling, their faces warped in horror.

“Can we get an audio probe to that point?” Geib asked as he brought up trajectory information at the ordnance and munitions station.

“Should we?” Dogot replied.

Geib stepped away from the console. That person could be taking some discipline or other hostility from those who pulled him away. But they weren’t to interfere, and they were to respect the privacy of those they were already hiding from. When it came to the methods of the Anlov Scholars, ethics had to be given, and given more so when they were already intruding on some other ethics. It was enough that they were intruding on the Thedeen’s frightful mountain. They wouldn’t intrude on their privacy.

“No,” Geib conceded.

“But we’re definitely keeping an eye on them,” Geib added. “Any contact from the away team?”

“Nothing yet. No distress calls or anything,” Dogot replied.

“Okay,” Geib acknowledged as he sat back down in the commander’s seat.

He then hopped back out of his seat and headed briskly through the doors off the bridge.

“I’m going to go check on the Specialists’ training.”

————————————–

Defused light lit the massive and crowded tomb. Shadows within their eye sockets flickered with this weakened hue.

The dead covered the ground. Barely a step could be taken without having your foot touch a set of remains. Bits of sinew and flesh still clung to several of the dried bones. Very few were intact enough for complete mummification.

Many remains were piled atop each other like they were shoveled into place. They piled atop the desks in front of the main reception area. Some died in the midst of their last actions, and remained in those positions even in death. One mummy was sitting with their back to a wall. It still wore rags hanging from its skeletal frame. In its lap were the skeletal remains of a small child.

Other remains weren’t intact in any way. There were piles of mismatching bones and parts in some areas that had been marked off with various pieces of furniture.  Each of these bones was completely scraped clean.

Ayabegei brought up a computer projection from her arm. Its pale blue light added to the muted white color that bathed the area.

“Scanning for any lethal gases, molds or airborne contaminates,” Ayabegei announced, primarily to record to her personal recorder.

She held up a small metal forked rod, which fed the readings to her holographic display. She waved the fork through the air slowly, and crouched low to wave it along the ground and near some remains.

Kazochi used her collapsible pole and hook to look over a nearby pile of bones. She hooked one, and brought it closer into her light. She didn’t need to bring up an analysis screen to identify teeth marks.

“They ate each other,” she stated aloud, also to her recorder.

“No dangerous contagions or gases in the air, surfaces, or remains,” Ayabegei concluded.

“But they did shut off the air,” Cisimi added, looking over a more preserved body. “Everyone died of asphyxiation.” 

The three warily made their way through the grim scatterings over to the main reception area and its desks. Piles of clothed skeletons straddled the desks. Computers were knocked off or pulled from mounts.

“Find one that is not broken,” Ayabegei ordered as they each went from desk to desk.

Ayabegei stopped to see a couple of mummified corpses huddled together behind the desks. Ayabegei leaned over to gauge her jump and vaulted over.

The four corpses were each wearing matching uniforms, with “Better Realities” on a patch on their breast. Two had large gashes in their uniforms with dark stains around the openings. And the other two had large openings on the tops of their skulls.

“They murdered the workers here,” Ayabegei said aloud, turning around to check on the others.

Both were on their way back to Ayabegei’s position.

“All the computers are destroyed,” Cisimi reported.

“They killed each other, and even ate each other?” Kazochi asked quietly, shuddering. “This is an underworld by the broadest definition.”

“Yes,” Ayabegei conceded. “This may not be a literal underworld or hell, but it is not too far from it.”

While she figured from the beginning that the place was misattributed by the locals, this mission showed already that perhaps the conclusion was entirely justified. Still, Ayabegei didn’t believe it a supernatural location or that supernatural forces were at work.

“Are there any computers back there?” Kazochi asked.

Ayabegei craned her head back and scanned behind the desks. She hadn’t bothered to check.

“They all look destroyed,” Ayabegei commented as Kazochi and Cisimi climbed over.

“Wouldn’t there be a door way into this area? Maybe they have some offices,” Cisimi asked as she scanned the back wall.

“These computers are all useless,” Kazochi reported. “Even the hard drives are smashed.”

A section of the wall slid open, startling Kazochi and Ayabegei.

“I think I found it,” Cisimi announced as she stepped through the opening.

They stepped into a larger back office. A few cubicles were present, each with destroyed and smashed computers. In a few cubicles, bodies all wearing the same uniform were carelessly piled atop each other. At the corner of the office, near the door leading into the back half of the main foyer, was another pile of bodies. They were huddled around an intact computer.

Again, the away team carefully made their way through a mess of the formerly living. All of the computer’s entourage carried the scars of injuries and trauma. Some were still locked in crudely made floor traps that defended the cubicle. Two bodies flanked the entrance to the cubicle, large metal pipes by their sides, and one more laid atop the computer. It could be inferred that these two had been guarding the other who had been trying to get the computer to function.

Kazochi and Cisimi moved to lift the body off the computer. As soon as they had touched it slightly, the entire mummy fell apart into cloud of dust, dried bone, tattered clothing, and twisted skin. They somberly moved the pile of what was once a living being to the side of the cubicle.

Ayabegei looked over the computer.

“It looks intact,” Cisimi observed. “The power is out though.”

Ayabegei gestured for Cisimi to turn around. Ayabegei reached into Cisimi’s back pouch to pull out a larger hexagonal box. Ayabegei also patted Cisimi’s side pouch.

“You have enough relays?” Ayabegei asked.

“I should have enough. I’ve been careful to space them out as I can,” Cisimi replied.

“Let’s give the others a status update,” Kazochi suggested.

“Will you two take care of that? I will get to work on this computer,” Ayabegei suggested as she plugged the computer into the hexagon box.

Kazochi and Cisimi stepped back into the front half of the foyer. They stood next to the relay Cisimi set on the long stretch of desks. Cisimi brought up a holographic screen and keyboard. She pressed away at the keys, even bringing her smaller arms up to type as well.

She reached up and “spun” the projection around so Kazochi could read it.

“How’s this?” Cisimi asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Overall status: normal. Power and air not present in structure. Rebreathing functioning perfectly. Danger level rated low. Large amount of dead bodies found. Signs of social anarchy. No survivors found. No survivors expected. Will remain in contact.”

“Looks good to me,” Kazochi replied as she spun the projection back.

Cisimi sent the message and a separate projection showed a graphic representing a circle bouncing down a line dotted with relay points.

Kazochi and Cisimi stepped back into the office and up to Ayabegei. Just as they approached, Ayabegei stood up from the computer. A number of devices were hooked up to the computer, each buzzing and humming softly.

“The breaker is opening the locks on the computer,” Ayabegei preemptively explained. “It should take approximately twenty minutes.”

Without the help of their computer technician, they could still use computer systems. However, they had their performance at a fraction of what it would be with his help. He would have the computer unlocked in a few seconds. Also, since they were on probation, they weren’t given more advanced computer devices.

“It’ll be acceptable to leave this all here?” Cisimi inquired.

“I keep running a passive scan for life forms, and it is only detecting us three,” Ayabegei replied, bringing up a reading screen on a projection.

Satisfied, Cisimi made her way towards the nearby door leading to the back half of the foyer.

As the door swung open, they were greeted by a continuation of the mass tomb in the front half. These halves weren’t really halves as the front part of the foyer only stretched about a fourth of a kilometer, while this back section stretched three times as far. At the far end were the starts of winding staircases that circled the entire perimeter of the chamber, leading up into the darkness of the floors above. Banks of elevators were frozen in their tracks. One had fallen out and rested now in a crater in the floor. Every space in between stairs or elevator led to a hallway stretching further into the complex. Halfway to the stairs, a large banner stretched across a standing wall.

Beneath the layers of graffiti, they could see that it was a map of the entire structure. Each floor was laid out in the same way as the one below, but slightly smaller in area. They were filled with rooms of the same dimensions, with the occasional maintenance corridor and rooms. It wasn’t unlike a prison in its drab uniformity.

Cisimi threw the cartographer drone straight up into the air. Its lights quickly faded as it flew up into the massive expanse above. Finally, it fell down like a stone, stopped just above Cisimi’s outreached claw. Her map projection updated with a higher resolution map. Some of the chambers had their walls broken down or collapsed. Some staircases were covered in rubble. But everywhere, there were mounds of the dead piled.

Ayabegei, Kazochi, and Cisimi went down the nearest tunnel, which bathed them in the reflected light. Only a few meters down the hall, the same triangle and square seen at the entrance to the complex graced one of the walls. Around it lied several sprawled bodies. A control panel next to the door had impressions from it being struck repetitively. One of the bodies had a large piece of rubble still in its grasp.

They moved on to the next door, one with the panel still intact.

Kazochi pulled a small device from her pack and placed it against the control panel. It glowed faintly, coming back to life after a long slumber. As the panel woke from the localized power source, it flashed through various screens. On Kazochi’s device, characters and letters formed in a line. Its low security lock cracked, Kazochi bid it to open. A shudder sounded as the door slid open with this new dose of localized power from the device. It opened, unleashed a pocket of air into the hall, rattling the corpses that lie nearby.

————————————–

“How close are they? How soon until they’re in visual range?” Geib asked quickly as he took his seat, only to get right back out.

A thermal image scan feed showed the six Thedeens rushing through the forest. They were nearly sprinting as they closed in on the mountain. Following behind them was a large cart pulled by a group of indriqs. In the cart was soil and bags of quick mix concrete

“We have maybe fifteen minutes,” Dogot replied.

“I’m suiting up to be sent down,” Suge announced over the comm.

“You’d have to interfere in order to stop them from burying the door. We can’t be exposed,” Geib commented.

“What do you suggest then?” Suge replied.

“Get to the munitions launcher. Load up a hologram projection pod,” Geib ordered.

“Specialist Lyr and Rio Reezmin, report to the computer lab,” Geib continued.

“Are you serious?” Rio groaned over the comm.

“Oh what?!” Pip-is added.

“Enough whining!” Geib shouted. “This is the time I need that endurance you’ve started building. Your crewmates are in trouble.”

There was the sound of movements and groans through the comm.

“Holographic pod is ready for data upload,” Suge announced over the comm.

“Nuta!” Geib shouted.

Nuta jolted awake in the pilot’s seat.

“Position us to fire on the door,” Geib ordered.

Nuta wasn’t even fully awake, yawning as he started moving the ship. He put the ship in position with only a few movements of the controls.

“Good. Stay awake,” Geib continued. “Lyr and Rio Reezmin, I want you to render as high a quality projection of the mountain side. We’ll be covering up the door with it. Make it look indistinguishable from the rest of the mountainside.”

“That much detail? In how long?” Rio asked in surprise.

“Eleven minutes,” Dogot answered loudly.

“Ok, I’ve’te renderin’ program up,” Pip-is announced. “I’ll jus copy’n’paste a diff’rent section from tha’ mountain.”

“It isn’t even composed of the same kind of earth,” Rio argued loud enough to be heard over the comm.

“You have to use this kind. It has a different color.”

“K, How’bout this?”

“Yes, rock faces typically have the same rock appear over and over again in a pattern.”

“Fine, ok! Like they’d even notice.”

“You want to risk that?”

“There, I’m loadin’ up how it’d look.”

“Good. Hurry up.”

Geib and the others listened helplessly, hoping that a quality product was coming out of all this fussing.

“The shadowing is all off! This planet has two suns in opposite directions?!”

“Dammit, fine!”

“Only a few more minutes guys,” Dogot announced.

“There, done.”

“Good enough.”

“Send the file over to Junior Lieutenant Vihili,” Geib shouted.

“I’m already getting the upload,” Suge replied quietly.

“Data loaded. Pod is loaded in launcher,” he declared.

“They’re nearly at the tree line,” Dogot bellowed.

“Fire the pod now!”

————————————–

Crashing through the thicket, one of the group leapt out into the clearing. The hunter looked up to the scattering birds in the trees across from where he saw the entrance. He scanned through the trees, but could see nothing that would’ve spooked the birds. He turned around to see the others climbing out, pulling thorns out of their pants and sleeves. All were breathing heavily despite all being in good physical shape. Running through a forest while dressed so fully could tire anyone.

The cart finally breeched through the thicket, and came to a stop next to the group. Its indriqs huffed and snorted, and kicked at the ground, still expecting further running. One of the Thedeen fed the four indriqs a quick treat of fruit, their tongues licking hungrily at his hands.

“Now where is the gateway?” an older Thedeen asked in a hushed voice.

“It should be right up ahead on this side of the mountain,” the hunter replied, leading the way for the others.

They walked along the edge of the mountain for several meters before the hunter stopped. He looked back and forth along the side of the mountain.

“It was right here,” he stated in bemusement.

He briskly walked away from the mountain to the tree line and turned around to look over the entire mountainside he could see. He even jogged along the tree line, circling the mountain base. All the while, his vexation magnified. He made his way back to the others, all the while whipping his head back and forth to scan the mountain.

“Where’s the gateway?” the older Thedeen asked again, impatience emanating from his bearded mouth.

“I don’t understand. I saw it right here. It was right along this side of the mountain,” the hunter replied, still looking over the mountainside.

Part of him wanted also to avoid eye contact with the village elder.

“Could it have been on a different side of the mountain?” one of the other Thedeen asked.

“No, it was on the eastern side. I remember clearly,” the hunter lamented.

“Either your vision is faulty or your intent was malicious,” the elder scorned. “Regardless, that you dragging us out here on such pretenses is unacceptable.”

“But I was sure that…” the hunter protested.

“You were not sure enough!” the elder interrupted. “That world you claimed to see is not something you witness lightly. The terror that world brought to our ancestors is not something you mock. Unless you are absolutely certain, you do not go bringing up mention of that world. Ever.”

Though the hunter was well into adulthood, the chastising by the elder made him feel like a small insolent child. He didn’t hear anything else, so his eyes slowly rose to meet the elder’s. They were kind eyes, but with a heavy fatigue that came from his own parents being lost to the underworld. They belonged to a man who didn’t enjoy for one second having news delivered of the return of that underworld, even less so when it was untrue.

“Do not do this again,” the elder warned. “You have already shamed yourself and your people.”

The elder turned around and walked back to the tree line, and onward to the village. Following him, the others in the group started their trek back. And behind them, the hunter followed with lagging tempo. He didn’t fondly await his punishment for raising this alarm.

As he returned to the forest, he turned back to try one more glance at the mountain. Seeing nothing, he made his way back to the village with heavy steps.

————————————–

It was a rectangular chamber being only about ten meters at its widest and around seven meters at its longest. Its surface lit with a brighter glow from the three’s lights. Throughout the entire surface there were no overt markings with the exception of the door and its control panel. However even they had panels that slid over them, making the surface of the entire chamber resemble a solid sheet of felt.

A single occupant resided in the room, over whom the away team stood.

It was the best preserved mummy thus far, with skin and hair still covering the entire body. Even the teeth remained as did the liquefied remains of the eyes. It wore clothing from the Fourth Era.

Frozen, etched so that even time didn’t move it, was a wide grin.

“This one seems more pleased than the others,” Cisimi noted, underplaying the obvious.

Ayabegei pulled a small web-looking apparatus from her pack. She held it over the body, and a flittering light shot from its many tips to trace over every centimeter of the body. Readings displayed on a screen she brought up from her free hand.

“This one did not die like the rest,” Ayabegei concluded. “Not from asphyxiation, and not from any physical trauma.”

“But, he is showing all the signs of malnutrition. He wasted away,” she added.

“He doesn’t look like it caused him much pain,” Kazochi commented.

She stood back and up and looked around the empty room. 

“What could be so thrilling about this room that someone would willingly starve themselves to stay in here?” she mused.

“Something so captivating that those waiting outside died waiting to get in,” Cisimi commented.

Her limbs fidgeted and shuddered.

Ayabegei stood up next to her.

“Are you alright?” she asked Cisimi.

“Dear, I’m as alright as I can be in a place like this,” Cisimi replied, suddenly being absent of her ambient micromovements.

“I can’t imagine these rooms are any different from each other. We will figure out how it works,” Ayabegei surmised.

She pulled another large hexagonal box out, this time out of her own pack. She set it down a few meters from the center where the mummy lied. After pressing a few switches the side panels of the device fanned out. Inside these openings, a glowing green and purple light started to pulse.

A flickering of lights.

The room awoke with a stutter. Its lights drenched the room in bright, almost blinding light.

A soothing voice echoed through the room.

“Welcome to Better Realities, your ideal escape.”

A light glistened down from the ceiling, and up from the floor, meeting in the middle. Displayed in the center of the room was the same emblem seen on the badges of the employees.

“Please close the main door to begin your Better Reality.”

They each looked back down at each other. Though the voice came from all over the room, they habitually looked for speakers above.

“One of us should exit,” Ayabegei advised. “In case this room decides we will join the dead, they will go back and report the findings.”

They each looked at each other.

“I will stay in here,” Ayabegei added. “You two chose who stays in here.”

Kazochi wasn’t even able to voice her thoughts before Cisimi blurted out.

“I’ll stay here, Edesium-dear,” she rattled off. “You should be the one to go back to the others.”

Kazochi’s mouth was still open; her statement stopped before it even began. She closed it, reorganized her thoughts and opened again.

“Are you both sure?” Kazochi clarified.

She was quick to pick up on Cisimi’s nature. Cisimi reminded her of the grandmas of some of her childhood friends. Kazochi had no grandma of her own, but knew their kind of reflexive selflessness wasn’t something that could be argued with.

“I’m sure,” Cisimi confirmed, clicking her mandibles cheerfully.

Kazochi looked over to Ayabegei. Ayabegei was infinitely harder to read, which was ironic since they would have no interspecies nonverbal communication barrier. Her face was almost always neutral, and when it wasn’t, it was a steady frown. She could see how it could be taken as scowl or look of disapproval. But something in her body language said that she wasn’t always upset when she wore that face.

Ayabegei nodded to Kazochi.

“Give us fifteen minutes. If we are not out of here by then, or if you hear our distress, you will report back to the Cardboard Box in accordance with protocol,” Ayabegei ordered.

Kazochi nodded, and stepped outside of the room. As she faced into the room, she reached over to the control pad outside and removed the device she had placed there.

Ayabegei stepped up to her, separated by the path the door would take.

“We will be fine. See you again soon,” Ayabegei stated blandly as she pressed at the control panel on the inside.

The door whisked shut, leaving Kazochi in a silent hall, waiting with others closeby who once had the same agenda.

————————————–

“Reading marker,” the room announced softly.

Cisimi and Ayabegei looked around for what this marker was.

On the floor, the mummy’s wrist glowed, emanating from a band he wore on his arm.

“Customer 02289, would you like to resume from last session?” the voice asked with all of the gentleness of a dedicated nurse.

Ayabegei placed her hand on her side arm. Cisimi followed suit and readied her weapon as well.

“Yes. Resume last session,” Ayabegei beckoned clearly.

The very ground they stood on shifted, and the room around them disappeared.

Ayabegei and Cisimi quickly drew their weapons, and deployed sensors on HUDs around their faces. They wheeled around, watching the world around them disappear. A strong wind could be heard and the ground continued to shift. Like a pop-up book, elements came lifting out of the ground and from thin air. An entire panorama materialized in the small room.

In every direction, they could see rolling grasslands. Cliffs and buttes dotted the landscape. The sun gleamed overhead on a clear cloudless day. It was warm, but a slight breeze tickled the skin.

Ayabegei and Cisimi looked down to see themselves standing atop a high rising plateau. The ground, which was level when they entered, now ostensibly differed by several meters.

“Is it some sort of hologram?” Ayabegei asked in surprise.

Cisimi carefully treaded over to the edge and crouched low to press her hand over the edge. She expected her hand to still hit an invisible floor, but instead fell downward.

“Perhaps not entirely,” Cisimi answered, recoiling back from the edge.

There was a skittering behind them. Both of the Scholars quickly spun, drew their weapons up, and trained them on a hand that now gripped the edge from below.

It gripped the surface tightly. In fact, the rock almost appeared to bend slightly from the pressure. A matching hand with accompanying arm also lifted up and onto the top.

Ayabegei nodded at Cisimi, and started to approach whoever was climbing up. Cisimi steadied herself to provide covering fire. Ayabegei cautiously approached the edge, weapon fixed on the ledge with its climber. Her feet were only a few centimeters from the arms.

Ayabegei quickly looked over, weapon readied. It was instantaneous as she saw a young Anlov female look up in surprise and loose her grip. Ayabegei fell to her knees, and caught the falling climber by the wrist. Ayabegei could feel Cisimi’s strong claws and arms pulling her back, or at the very least, in place.

“Who are you?!” the young lady shouted, her voice echoing through the expanse.

“Anlov Scholars, Lieutenant Rugebov,” Ayabegei replied, flexing to help the climber up. “Come on. I will help you up.”

Swinging back, the climber slammed into the rock face. She quickly dug her feet and free hand into holes in the rock. Ayabegei helped the climber come up and over the edge.

As soon as she was atop the cliff, the climber collapsed on her back, panting heavily. Her eyes were closed and a smile formed on her face.

“Wow, that was intense,” the climber cheered, jumping up to her feet.

She spun around to face Ayabegei.

“Oh someone else too?” the climber asked, referring to Cisimi. “Who are you guys?”

Ayabegei shrugged and sighed.

“We are Anlov Scholars. We were sent to investigate this location,” Ayabegei confessed.

“This location? This mountain?” the climber asked.

“Yes. Inside this mountain,” Cisimi replied.

“Inside?” the climber questioned. “Were you planning on digging down from the top?”

“No, not this mountain,” Ayabegei countered, tapping her toe against the rocky top of the plateau.

“Then what mountain?” the climber asked.

“Lieutenant, the bio sensor,” Cisimi texted to Ayabegei’s HUD.

Ayabegei looked down from her HUD to the biosensor.

It was reading only Ayabegei, Cisimi, and the faint signature of the mummified remains.

“Where’s Hederom?” the climber asked, looking around the top of the plateau.

She spotted the immobile body lying nearby.

“What’s wrong with my boyfriend?” she asked with growing concern. “What did you do to him?!”

She froze in place. Around her, the world froze too. Wind no longer blew, the distant grass didn’t sway, and the climber didn’t blink. Hair under her climbing helmet was locked in the position from a breeze’s caress.

“Possible error,” the room announced.

“Customer 02289, you’re not to have unregistered guests in your Better Reality. You’re in violation of the one participant per chamber rule,” the voice explained. “Please have your guests processed and registered for their own individual experience. Your reality will terminate in one minute. Thank you, and enjoy a Better Reality.”

The world still stood frozen like a photograph. Climber, clouds, even a distant bird stood in place, completely inanimate.

Ayabegei approached the climber and extended a sensor fork towards her. Torrents of data spewed onto her HUD screen.

“Incredible,” Ayabegei gasped. “That would mean…”

Ayabegei prodded slowly at the climber’s arm. Her timid fingers pushed into the arm, pushing in a bit harder than the touched would be comfortable with.

It ebbed back slightly, differently than skin would. Like pushing into a balloon, it retained its shape as Ayabegei pulled back.

A wave crushed over this sand castle as the entire world faded into the floors, ceiling, and walls.

The door into the chamber slid open, the chamber’s bright lights flooded into the hall.

Kazochi blinked several times to acclimate to the increase in light.

“What did you find?” Kazochi inquired with quiet excitement.

Ayabegei still held her hand out where just a moment ago it was grazing a rendered person. She finally dropped her arm, and turned to the others. They stared on in confusion at Ayabegei.

“As the Thedeen had said, this world lured with the promises of happiness,” Ayabegei stated as she started packing up all of her items. “We need to show you.”

All three made their way to the next intact chamber, the door sealing the room they left.

Within, Customer 02289, identified as Hederom, was returned to the silence.

————————————–

“Lieutenant Rugebov just messaged us,” Wits announced.

“What does it say?” Geib asked.

“They’re finished with their investigation. They’ve collected ample data and samples. They even copied extensive data logs from a computer hooked up to a mainframe inside.”

“Excellent! I can hardly wait,” Geib applauded. “Inform them they’re clear to make their way back to the dropship. Remind them to close the door, lock it, and bring the holographic pod.”

“Message sent,” Wits reported, voice processor popping. 

“Inform me when they have confirmed the message,” Geib requested as he scrolled through different projections of visual feeds.

“Yes, Commander,” Wits replied, body turned entirely to face away towards the command console.

“Let’s get the ship ready to move,” Geib declared, sitting up from his seat.

“Nuta!”

Geib noticed that Nuta wasn’t in the pilot’s seat.

“Oh yeah. I forgot he turned in for some rest,” Geib noted. “And the others too. Jeez, this place is dead. We need to get some more activity going on. I’m sure there are things this crew could be doing.”

“Ok, enough of that crap,” Geib declared, like he was having a one person argument. “Vihili will have to train them in split classes. I can’t have my entire crew out of commission from his training.”

“We’re learning a lot from this first mission at least,” Wits commented. “I’m sure we’ll be quicker and more efficient in our next missions.”

“I hope so. It’s kind of boring,” Geib whined as he sat in the pilot’s seat.

Wits turned her body back to face towards the communications panels. From her experience, it was better to have it be boring.

“Once everyone wakes up, we’re having a celebration. Our first mission didn’t end in horrible disaster, which is what our boss was expecting,” Geib boasted.

“Now our adventures can really start!”

————————————–

The moon’s bright aura lit the mountain. A recessed panel dazzled in the dull moonlight.

This luster danced against the face of the hunter who looked up at the door in captivation. He had been unable to sleep at all, not with the certainty he had felt in seeing it tormenting his mind. Now he stood right up against it. He moved his hand closer to it.

Voices of the elders screamed in his head as his hand approached with the timidity of putting your hand on a possibly hot stovetop.

It was cool.

His skin shivered as he ran his fingers along the door and into the cracks.

It stood resolute and unmoving as the elders themselves. The hunter was unsure he believed what the others did. He wondered why such distance should be taken from technology. Didn’t technology make life easier? Didn’t it help people?

Wasn’t there more to life?

Wasn’t there a better reality?