The Hell With Earthside: A Novella (STRYDER'S HORIZON Book 1) (3 page)

“They’re different,” Gregor told me as I led the officers down to the drill-runners. His words stopped me dead in my tracks. I decided to try one out. It looked about the same as I remembered, like a giant wingless-hornet. I lay down and slid my arm through the calibrators and my legs through the pins. They locked down as soon as I did. Beneath me I could feel the orb ever spinning. The feeling against my stomach had not been missed until that moment. My heart raced as I remembered all my near-death experiences. I was younger then, and back then, those moments scared me. I’d had something to live for, but right now it felt like I yearned for them. Like death was what I had always wanted.

“The first thing to keep in mind is that you are turning the orb here at my stomach. You are not turning your body the way you want to go. You’re not simply flying through a space dodging things. You have to work with this little ball that has no eyes and sure as hell doesn’t share your same perception of time and space. This ball works not unlike a magnet, but instead of basic magnetism it generates its own gravity.

“And yes, the rumors are true. There have been people who have generated so much gravity that they were shot through space and never seen again. And there are people who generated so much that they dug themselves a grave. 

“Drill-runners are a tool that humanity is still not ready
for. Maybe one day, there will be a generation who laughs at all of us silly people crashing into things, but that day is not today. Now watch.”

I activated the drill-runner. It rose off the floor of the bay. I whipped it around so that I would be standing if my feet were on the ground, a tenth of a second and I’m upside down. Then left then right. The orb is in the exact same space the whole time.

“You see the orb is a pivot point. There are gauges on at my fingertips, which propel it forward. As it moves forward, I turn the orb with my body to adjust the position of the drill-runner.”

There should’ve been
ooo’s and ahh’s. They must’ve seen it in the documentaries.

“The key is to put the orb where it needs to be at all times, but because of the strength at which the orb can pull you, it is best to dodge by simply pivoting.”

“Excuse me,” a young man said.

I spiraled over to him. “Yes?”

“When we go into the tubes, the gang will be armed. If they know this, then keeping a pivot point with the orb is asking to be shot.”

I nodded, “These were not designed for combat. They were designed to navigate complex channels.”

“And the tubes are very complex,” Davis assured us all.

“So you’re not going to teach us how to actually survive?” the young officer asked. It was a frustration that seemed foreign in
Earthside.

“Officer Millar, please let Lady
Stryder continue.”

“No, Millar brings up a good point. There will be combat, and it is something we will have to learn together. But you can’t fight if you can’t breathe. And
drill-running is breathing. Thank you, Millar.”

The Officer nodded and gave me his full attention.

The first lesson ended with each officer trying his or her hand at riding a drill-runner. Even using a security bubble around them did not end well. Two of them crashed into the bay wall. One of them broke their leg within the bubble, which might’ve been a first, and the rest were dizzy from spending too much time upside down.

Colonial Officer Davis looked disappointed at the end of the session. The near-discouraged officers hung their heads as they passed. When the bay had cleared, it was just Davis, Gregor and I.

“They can’t even do it with training wheels on,” Davis said regarding the security bubble. “There’s no way we can have them navigate through the tubes. They’d be too damn big.”

“Au contraire,” Gregor said with a fake French accent. “If they plug up the tubes, the Dessup will have nowhere to go either.”

“You’re a mechanic, right?”

Gregor was proud of that fact.

“Good, then mechanic things.” Davis turned his finger to me. “You need to step it up, show them how it’s done.”

“It’s not easy. They need practice. It’s not going to just come to them the first time they do it.”

“I heard you figured it out on your first try.”

That was different. I was chucked into the deep end and told to sink-or-swim. I almost argued that point when I remembered what my ‘mentor’ had told me. The key is just feeling it.

“They’ll be out of the security bubbles tomorrow.”

Davis was going to say something else but liked the sound of that. He gave me a nod of approval and looked the once immaculate bay over again before leaving he told us where to go for food and sleep.

“We’ll start first thing in the morning.”

Gregor waited until Davis left. “Did you feel it?”

I shook my head.

“They’re different, they have an additional axis point.”

“No, it felt the same.”

“They can fold.” He pointed to the drill runner. The line in the panels was clear-cut down the center. “See you can bring your head down and you legs up without affecting the orb.”

“I don’t see a use for that when you would go head first if the shoot you were going through was too tight.”

Gregor smiled, “I don’t think the drilling companies designed it for that. In fact I am almost certain I know what it is for.” Gregor was a big smile from his toes to his blockhead. He was teasing my curiosity. “Think about it.”

“I’ve got nothing.”

“The thing the drillers hate the most is when a drill-runner dies. Two things probably happen. One. They lose a drill cup. Two. They lose 10-90a that was mined. Now look, they installed a manual heart rate sensor. If you look here…” He pointed where my chest touched the driller-runner, “and here.” He pointed where my armpits landed in the front calibrators.

“So the driller-runner throws either the drill cup or the 10-90a if the pilot dies.”

“Yes, I think that’s it. I’d have to have someone’s pulse stop while they are piloting to be sure but…”

“Why don’t you just use the
Earthside Library? I’m sure the Colonials have access to news briefs on drilling designs.”

Gregor hadn’t thought of that, so I got to wear the big smile this time and no one had to die.

“The drill-runners that the Dessup Gang has, is it the same model.”

“No, theirs are
slightly older models. I don’t know if they have this feature.”

“Can you think of a way to make this feature work in our favor?”

“I can try.”

In the morning, all broken legs were healed, and all blood had returned to its appropriate flow. It wasn’t going to last for long, but I noticed there were a lot more officers like Millar who were listening with every bone in their body.

I made Millar my guinea pig.

“I want you to circle this bay without hitting any of the walls.”

“Yes, sir,” he said. Millar laid on the drill-runner for a few seconds then looked up at me. “Aren’t you going to turn on the bubble?”

I shook my head. “Why would I do that? It doesn’t seem to be helping you any.”

The look of worry on his face was so priceless that I knew my bastard of a mentor had not given me the sink-or-swim method for my benefit
, but for his own devilish delight.

Millar waited for me to change my mind, then reluctantly obeyed my order.  I heard the hearts of the other nine officers stop as Millar lifted the drill-runner off the ground. It wobbled in the air for a moment,
then jerked forward a few feet at a time.

There was a gasp as he suddenly shot forward. He made two perfect turns, but really botched the third.

The bay was silent, but it felt like Colonial Officer Davis was screaming. He was the first to reach Millar and yanked him out of the drill-runner, which lurched forward before Millar was all the way out. It put a nice dent in the bay door.

“Your mechanic better be quick becaus
e we just lost one drill-runner!”

“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “The good news, Millar, is that you navigated 200 feet before you crashed. Most rookie drill-runners only make it 100 feet before they die. You’re above average.”

Millar’s face slowly earned a smile once he was sure again that I was not messing with him.

“I think I’m getting it, can I try again?” he asked.

I pointed at another drill-runner. He pounced on it.

I stopped watching Millar after about a minute. Instead I watched his impressed peers. He circled back and hovered next to me.

“Can I keep going?”

“Get all the practice you can.”

He took off towards the ceiling and rolled and spun, increasing his speed as he whipped around.

“Who’s next?”

Two officers stepped forward and hopped into their drill-runners. They bumped into each other within a few seconds of take off, then after an easy lap around the perimeter of the bay, they too went up to where Millar still played around.

“That’s a pretty big smirk there,
Stryder. You think you’ve taught them enough not to get killed in the tubes?” Davis asked.

“No. It’s just that I’ve never seen multiple drill-runners whipping around like that. I always went into the veins alone.”

After a few seconds, and perhaps I had jinxed them, Millar and one of the second group had collided and just barely managed a controlled landing. Which is to say they only crashed into the floor where no one else was standing.

“That’s probably why you only ever went in alone.” Davis shook his head. “This isn’t going to work. We’re wasting time.”

“It’s awesome,” one of the wrecked officers said jumping to her feet. Millar was right up with her smiles on both of their faces.

“How quick can they fix our drill-runners?”

“If no one else is going to try can I use another one?”

“Damn it, Millar, you’ve crashed two already!” Davis yelled. “At least let someone else crash one.”

Gregor looked up from the first wrecked drill-runner.

“Please don’t wreck anymore. I’m not sure I have enough materials for fix this one.”

“Okay, keep it simple today. Don’t push it beyond a couple of laps. Everyone gets a turn. Only one person up at a time.”

Millar and the other two officers looked disappointed as they hurried back to the group, forcing them into a line they were not prepared to start.

They all practiced the rest of the day. Each time they took to the drill-runners they improved more than just incrementally. You could see them leaving each run with a bit more confidence. Even Davis seemed to lose that edge of failure.

It was going to work.

I was positive.

“You’re still the best one out of them,” Colonial Officer Davis said.

It had been
four days. At this point, all ten officers had stopped crashing. They showed up early and stayed late. Only the exhaustion in their eyes forced us end our sessions each day.

“They’ll get there. I wasn’t the best drill-runner back then. And they may react better once they are in the tubes. As far as training facilities go, this is just an empty room.”

“I agree, but that’s not what I’m getting at, Stryder.”

I wasn’t dumb I knew he wanted me to lead them into the tubes.  And a part of me did as well, but I had drawn
the line in the sand for myself. I wasn’t going to cross it.

“Have there been more attacks?”

“That’s the first time you’ve asked,” Davis said. “There have been two since you arrived here. They took a child.”

I guess drawing a line in figurative sand wasn’t the thing to do. My mind imagined the wind blowing sand over the line eliminating it altogether. But I couldn’t. The gang members that deserved my justice were long gone. I saw a report on the
Dessup Gang that said their average lifespan was three to eight months. Six years is a lot of turnover.

“I’m a driver and a pilot. That’s it. You need soldiers out there. You picked a good bunch, give them time and it’ll work.”

“If it doesn’t, we’ll have to blow up the tubes entirely.”

“The
Burnsiders live fine without them.”

Davis took some offense to that.
Earthsiders would always hold themselves in higher regard. And perhaps rightfully so, they did practice better hygiene.

“The real difference is that
Earthside has a future. The Burnside is in their autumn. I can assure you that with your help you’ll land a nice stay here, even your Russian friend there if he can be housebroken.”

“I’m fine where I live.”

“Then what will take?” Davis asked.

I hadn’t realized we were negotiating here. Davis didn’t like that I asked for a lot of credits. He didn’t understand how quickly I’d burn through it giving Old Shepard the tender love and care that it needed. Heck, if he threw in a couple of drill-runners for my personal recreation, maybe that could get us talking. But apparently, the Colonials left something out of my profile. I’m stubborn. If I can make up my mind it really can’t be changed.

“Come with me,” Davis said as he led me out of the bay. We worked our way up the Colonial tower.

“I prefer the stairs. They require effort, but mostly because they keep me in shape. They give my mind time to think and my body a chance to use the muscles that the refinery chamber gives me. To me, there’s no greater waste than to throw away something that is given to you. You have a natural talent,
Stryder. Your profile says so and so do my eyes. You aren’t just someone who survived years of drill runs. You actually have a thing for speed and piloting. You still race your hunk of junk. The problem with you is that you’re a jerk off.”

I wasn’t really listening before, now Davis had my attention because I’ve never been a three-strike person. I’m a two-strike.

“You live in the middle of nowhere. Burnside is the armpit of the universe. Anyone who says different doesn’t have a working sense of smell. I get it, bad things happen and you don’t want them to happen again. But take a look around. They’re happening. And you know why they are happening?”

I wanted him to tell me.

“Because you haven’t done anything about the bad things that happened to you. So it just keeps happening. We can go six years back right now if you want. I can start tracking all the crime you have let the Dessup Gang get away with, and I guarantee the cause and effect of it all leads up to a little boy name Jesse Marshall getting kidnapped from his loving parents. And let’s peer into the future while your mind is still masturbating. Let’s imagine Jesse all grown up. Because they don’t kill him, they make him one of their own. And he is too young to know what they took him from. He’s a ball of clay and they mold him to resemble them. But you’ve seen sculptures made by man. They can’t match what nature has done. They are crude representations. And his reign will be worse than their current leaders because mankind as a species has always had to go that extra distance. Doesn’t it? We always have to try and push forward with everything. When really, and correct me if I’m wrong, if we just fixed the stuff that was actually broke we would probably still be living on Earth as one big happy nation.”

“By that logic I’m not responsible for Jesse Marshall and the
Dessup Gang isn’t responsible for me. You have to go way back. Tell me, has the Colonial ever figured out how to build a time machine?”

Davis shook his head. We had argued all the way to the top of the tower. The Blue sun was setting over sheer glass water. It was enough to keep all the alleys and streets well lit. Not a light in a home had been turned on yet. It was a cool light. It relaxed me and took my breath away. In Burnside, the blue sun didn’t set like this. It lit the sky, but there was no water to reflect off of, only ground and decay. 
Earthside felt like a completely different planet.

For a moment, we both just stood there looking out. It was peaceful. I could give the Colonials credit for that. I could not imagine that underneath it all, the
Dessup Gang was shooting through tubes bring hell and chaos.

Davis cleared his throat. “I’m just saying. He was your brother, Kimberly. Just like Jesse is someone’s brother.”