Months came and went since that spring night on the fence, and along with them, a slew of strange excursions for the hapless friends; some of them with or without ‘Rob,’ some of them with or without Greg even. It wasn’t just the business of running his golf course that pulled him away, but thickening ties to his own cherished Earth. These frequent interludes lessened their chances of field-testing the new, Vercoden-infused gauntlet, which sat presently aboard the Stardust in a case beside its forebears. What would be the point without the one who wanted the ‘proof-of-concept’ in the first place?
It wasn’t until late summer that the occasion finally came. Nash started hinting to her uncle that they needed just the smallest interval on the docket for some independent research. To her surprise, in spite of everything at stake, he assented. He was steps ahead of her, of course, revealing that other teams were being created in secret to advance the work hers had begun. “The very foundations of our civilization were pulled from the ground by people like you. Convention be damned. It works.” He told her these other individuals were carefully scouted and selected for their telekinetic ability, then sent to remote ocean-based locations for assessment, promising further that the integrity of her group would not be compromised in spite of its ‘enviable diversity.’
All of this maneuvering on Enzo’s part led to a comfy two-week gap in which the new device could be properly judged. He agreed wholeheartedly once Nash explained to him half of how it was supposed to work, insisting that poaching a superior Human intellect was preferable to shutting him out. Though she tried not to give too much away, just in case his side of the industry feared disruption too. For now, at least, he seemed amenable enough. There was even an ideal location for the experiment: an old mining station just two days’ flight from Celhesru, complete with functioning utilities and not abandoned for any reason other than the tired old tale of the ore running dry.
#
“It’s like they thought they were coming back,” Greg mused as the party of five walked down the wide street from the landing pad, through the empty town, to the large building which loomed ahead at the end of it all. He referred to the pristine apartment blocks, parks, and playgrounds they passed along the way; neat, tidy, and utterly devoid of life.
Nash was in the lead, floating a whole pallet of equipment through the air behind her. Though she insisted the others carry their own personal bags. The burden weighed nothing compared to the suffocating sentimentality this Earthling seemed to carry with him everywhere, unable to realize just how encumbered they were. “Don’t let a building make you sad,” she said. “They moved away when it was time to go. It’s not like they all got Chernobyled.”
“I guess it’s just the kid stuff, you know,” he continued. “Always seems depressing to see it abandoned.”
“Every kid who ever played there is a senior citizen now. They probably golf more than you,” she quipped, hoping to banish once and for all the shadow of second-hand regret haunting them.
“But like, why are the lights still on?” He just wouldn’t let up.
“Did you remember to bring it?” Kory asked him, sensing Nash’s distaste for the present subject.
“Oh yeah, I’ve got it right here.” Greg raised the case in his right hand to eye-level. He’d wanted to carry it himself, unsure of how an imperceptible energy might affect the objects within.
“We’re here,” Nash said abruptly. The impressive structure before them was a multi-purpose facility which once served as the site’s headquarters; complete with administrative offices, monitoring stations, executive lodging, and an infirmary all in one. “This is where we’ll live for the next seven to ten days.”
Sohrab failed to hide his disgust as he beheld the bloated, sickly-pale-yellow building. He took the cigarette pack from his coat pocket and handed one to Zol before lighting his own, perceiving the familiar hounding glare just beyond his view.
“Why are you even here?” The recipient of the free cigarette accosted his benefactor.
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“Why shouldn’t I be?” Sohrab retorted, as the group turned to the right and ascended the wide ramp hair-pinning up to the main entrance. “Business is slow this time of year. Vito tells me nobody buys anything in August. August is an only child, he says…” he trailed off, taking a long drag before coughing once.
“Sorry about Mia not making it,” Kory said to Greg as they reached the top of the ramp. Her sister had certainly never belonged to her, so it only felt right to address him in that regard.
“Yeah… she’s been pretty tired lately. Maybe next time though,” he said as they crossed the threshold.
They wandered through the entry halls and past the front offices. Not a thing was out of place, and only a faint scent of staleness hung upon the air. Were it not for the last-gen technology and dated paint colors, one might believe all the staff left last week. Before long they made it to the nexus, a huge room in the back of the building which once served as the control center and laboratory for the entire operation. The ceiling reached a height of three floors, and the interior wall was lined with walkways leading to corridors on every level. Solid panes of glass comprised the exterior wall in the rear of the building, with access to a terrace overlooking the massive pit just outside.
Nash set the pallet of gear down among the worktables in the midst of the room and walked towards the enormous window. The door to the balcony slid open before her, briefly filling the room with fresher air. She stepped to the railing and took in the view of the open mine that stretched before them. Kory joined her and together they surveyed the landscape.
“Look how orderly it is,” Nash sighed. “Open sky, neat little ramps cut down the side at equal intervals, and so perfectly clean after all these years…this is how we run things on our own… no one else around to make it worse.”
“Needs more tunnels, maybe a cave,” Kory teased, flatly.
“Between you and Greg, I swear…”
“And then the roof could fall in!”
“That’s enough out of you. Come on and help me find the infirmary in this place.” Nash turned from the vista and headed inside.
“What for?” Kory asked impatiently.
“What for? You’ve got more brain damage than him if you’re asking me that,” she gestured flippantly towards Sohrab as they passed through the room.
He leaned against a table where Greg was unpacking and shot them a dirty look. Only Kory saw it. She followed Nash quickly into the hallway, wishing to be free from his leering gaze. It could be a little much; the way he looked right through her, whispering words she alone heard, though his lips moved not.
Out in the passageway, the two turned a corner, following signs that led to their destination. “They won’t have float tanks,” Nash mused.
“You don’t think?”
“Well maybe… it’s possible a miner could’ve sustained a grievous enough injury to validate the expense of having one on sight. But they wouldn’t be as advanced as ours seeing as it was so long ago.”
“I wouldn’t want to get in goo that old anyway, would you?” Kory wondered. They descended a staircase to a lower floor. A pair of large double doors emblazoned with the words ‘Med Bay’ appeared before them.
“I’m sure they drained it,” Nash said, pushing open the doors to reveal a facility less provisioned than she’d hoped for. Inside the windowless, brightly-lit room were only three beds and a few cabinets stocked with trivial injury care materials. Nash sighed and then turned to leave. “Between this and what we have on the ship, it’ll have to do. Just try not to get messed up by what’s on the other side… if the thing even works.”
“It probably doesn’t,” Kory joked, less concerned than she should have been. She followed her friend back upstairs. “I’ve seen him tinkering with three different versions, so who knows…”
“Still, if it does, I’d be interested to know what you see.” Nash offered.
“You’re not the only one,” Kory replied, trying in vain to stamp out the memory of that day on Rallus-Beta. Instead of dwelling on skipping across the surface of the void, her thoughts drifted to what came after it. All sound faded away, replaced by a sole, muffled ringing. The scratches on her face and body seared like hot iron and her head was full of cotton. She distinctly recalled laying there on the Stardust’s floor, surrounded on either side by a thick curtain of hair that reeked of smoke. It formed a tunnel, at the end of which lay the visage of the madman demanding she ‘remember.’
It was this instance, which the others had all but forgotten in the haze of the preceding months, that led Kory to believe Sohrab wasn’t here because his work was slow. Nash and Zol kept bemoaning the fact that he had no reason to be here because there was nobody’s mind to read. Kory went ahead and let them believe that, despite having her own opinion on the matter.
