Singularity Page 5

  I nodded to him. “Not what I wanted to hear, but it sure as hell is what I needed. Thank you. She didn’t mention anything about meeting up in real life, but I can’t see any reason why she’d pay to send a message through the Rollings’s system when she could have sent it for free in-game.” If I was completely honest with myself, he was probably right.

  He dipped his helmet. “Any time, buddy. I think that’s because you haven’t given her your public contact connection key, right?”

  It was starting to make a lot more sense. Stacy would have tried to contact me in Eternity Online, but I hadn’t made that public connection key public on my contact settings with Rollings—and for good reason. “Yeah, that’s got to be it. It’s easy to forget there’s so much privacy in Eternity Online.” Without that contact connection key, no one could solicit me with in-game messages, regardless of their power or wealth. For that reason, it was good to keep it private and on a tight leash.

  One of the big rubber wheels of the transportation rover struck something and bounced up. I gripped the rail to my right and kept myself from bumping into any of the other workers while they did the same.

  Tiyvan IV’s low mass and the universal law of physics dictated that even though it orbited around a relatively large, equally uninhabitable planet, we could only ever hope for a maximum of 1/8th of a standard G. That number dropped even more as we dug into the depths of the moon with our mining efforts, careful not to destabilize its mass and cause catastrophic collapse. Our HABs and residency structures ran at a little over one standard G to counteract the long-term negative effects of working in low gravity, but it never felt as good as the real thing or as good as Eternity Online made it feel.

  As we traveled, I found myself thinking about Stacy and her cryptic message, unable to stop myself. Even with the Rollings Mining discount for government officials, she would have paid quite a few credits for the message transfer from Salgon, especially considering they were on terrible terms with Dalthaxia and the message would still have to go through Salgonian data relays. It was a long message, too. I couldn’t remember it word for word, but the distinct message about the loophole in the Eternity Contract and needing my help with a job was distinct enough.

  I didn’t have my datapad on me at the moment, and that was probably for the best. If I had it, I probably would have bitten right into her vicious hook. Brandon was right. I was much better off without her in my life, even if I didn’t really know what that life looked like without the rigid schedule of Rollings Mining on this desolate moon.

  The automated rover skidded to a stop at the edge of our residency building, powering down so we could hop off and end our shift. I switched my comm channel back to the general group as we secured our non-modular gear from the dense mesh cargo nets.

  My kit, one of the lighter ones in the group, clocked in at 210 kilograms including the weight of my bubble. The rest of the weight came from my repair kits, Overmind access datapad, climbing gear, emergency rations, random personal effects, and excess power packs. Some of the other miners’ gear weighed up to 800 kg, but they also wore heavy exoskeletons over their bubbles. For the rest of us, the integrated assist servos in our bubbles made the weight of our gear disappear like cheap parlor magic.

  As we walked away from the cart and toward the well-lit airlock, I checked the power reading on my wrist gauge. Still at 92% despite a hard day of work. Good, more credits for me. Power cell charging was expensive, especially with the kind of packs Rollings made us use. Cheap anything in our line of work was a liability, and Rollings didn’t like liabilities. In an industry as dangerous as ours, you couldn’t screw around with cut-rate gear or poorly trained operators.

  Because Rollings was a company that made the majority of its revenue from government-sponsored contracts, we abided by the governing rules of the Dalthaxian Alliance even though we were billions of kilometers away from the nearest station flying our flag. Tiyvan and all its unoriginally named moons weren’t of interest for anything other than mining, and the shipping logistics alone kept most companies from chartering ventures anywhere near this desolate planet.

  More distance from the Eternity System equaled more travel time, and higher costs all around, but Tiyvan IV had a rare, and valuable composition of minerals that well exceeded the minimum financial returns needed for Rollings to sustain our op. This moon had hit the jackpot when it came to gold composition. That and titanium. When you mixed them three-to-one with a couple other goodies, you got a damn strong alloy which was good for a lot of stuff. Inexplicably, there was more gold on Tiyvan IV than anywhere else in proximity with the Eternity System, and Rollings held the rights to the entire moon.

  My group walked into the massive airlock where we’d take off our gear and get out of our bubbles before entering the residency. Dinner was waiting, and we were hungry so we tried to get out of our gear as fast as possible. aGrav mechanics dictated that we couldn’t open the airlock until everyone was out of their gear. Even with heavy, solid doors, Newtonian laws decided that aGrav didn’t like to be in one room and not a room adjacent to it.

  There was aGrav leakage from our residency, which meant the workers with the lightest gear stood closest to the inner airlock door while the heavies stood at the edge of the outer airlock to minimize the impact. It wasn’t a pleasant situation walking from one airlock to the other, but you either got used to it pretty quick or got to spend some quality time off the company clock scrubbing vomit from your bubble.

  I felt vertigo as I walked through the airlock toward the inner door, my head swimming as a particularly nasty wave of aGrav crashed over me. The mechanics behind the tech are complicated, and I gave up trying to learn how it worked. Instead, I just accepted that it acted like both fluid and electromagnetic pulse and tried not to get on its bad side.

  When the pressure equalized in the airlock, I twisted off my helmet, breathing in marginally fresher air while placing my gear on the floor. I worked on my bubble next, disconnecting my air tank and leaning it on my pack. Now, it was just a matter of going through the unintuitive process and getting out of the rest. It took me four minutes. I loaded my gear on the automated cart that took our kits to the storage area where another robot packed it away, saving us some time and trouble.

  When I was done, I helped Brandon out of his bubble. As a quality analyst, his kit clocked in at over 100 kilograms more than mine, but he did have a light exoskeleton attached to his bubble to compensate. He wasn’t 2.4 meters tall in the real world like he was in Eternity Online, and he had brown hair now instead of bald, gray skin. He kept his hair short and clipped in an undercut style. He was lean, relatively tall, and had a kind face and gentle green eyes.

  Ten minutes later once everyone had their stuff on the cart, we opened the inner airlock and stepped into a nice, relatively even 1.2 Gs of gravity. We walked into the mess hall where a cook bot was serving plates of food packed with as much protein as possible. My datapad alerted me I had another unread message from Stacy and one other from a different source it wouldn’t display without opening. Great. I decided that I would check it when I could be alone, choosing to walk with my friends and grab a tray of dinner instead. I felt the dread and anxiety seep into my stomach like acidic sludge as I tried to focus on something—anything else.

  For being 160 billion klicks away from the nearest farm on planetary soil, our food wasn’t half bad, and the variety was better and more diverse than we should’ve had any right to expect. I grabbed a plate of Salisbury steak, steamed broccoli, and a miniature loaf of freshly baked bread before sitting next to Brandon, Tim, Clarissa, and Benny.

  “Good Gesh, I love Salisbury steak day,” Tim said through a mouthful of food, already halfway through his first plate which would serve as little more than an appetizer for the big man.

  “Yeah, we know. Your wallet probably doesn’t, though,” Brandon responded, stabbing a bite of his steak with his fork and smearing it in the well of creamy gravy he had formed in the c
orner of his plate.

  Tim shrugged. “Worth it. You know I get a discount on my power cells for hauling around my Exo. The way I see it, it cancels out if I eat a second portion.”

  Benny laughed. “That Exo hauls you, not the other way around. I’ve never seen you eat just two portions of Salisbury steak. What’s your record, six or seven? You’ve got a hollow leg or something, man.”

  I laughed with the others. Even if he did indulge in extra meals on a daily basis, Tim was in pretty good shape. Hell, it would be hard not to be when swinging a 100-kilogram PlasmaAx all day, even with the Exo assist and low gravity. He was in his thirties with a bulky build, shaved head, and a constant few days’ worth of stubble and irritated skin from cheap razors.

  “Laugh all you want about the steak, but I’ve seen your monthly porn bill, Benny. You couldn’t have downloaded an archive like the rest of us before you were shipped out to this rock?” Tim jeered.

  Benny took a sudden and profound interest in the contents of his plate, and I couldn’t blame him, but this was all in good fun. If things went too far, one of us would defuse the situation before anyone got too offended.

  “The steak’s pretty good. Doesn’t come close to spaghetti day, but only because I’m convinced the cook bot does some unholy things to those meatballs,” I said, drawing the heat away from Benny.

  Brandon shook his head, chewing his food. “It’s all about breakfast for dinner night.”

  The room quieted before anyone else could make a case for their favorite meal as we got our daily news blast from Rollings in the form of a holofeed video played in the center of the mess hall. It was a short compilation of all the major events of the Dalthaxian Alliance and Salgon Empire. Tensions were as high as ever, and it seemed like the videos were getting longer each night as the digital war hooked its way into everyone’s life.

  I watched with cold interest, wishing I didn’t still depend and cling to these snapshots of the life I lost and the next one I had chosen to abandon for whatever I was living now. The news stories that started weren’t uncommon or shocking at all. A terrorist bombing on the Metro Maglev system on Salgon—the dense capital world Stacy was probably still residing on despite her Dalthaxian citizenship. The dissolution of a pact no one knew about was still honored from an archaic era before the Eternity Planet had been sealed away like some kind of treasure burial ground. News on interfactional trade agreements between mega-corporations to sustain the combined population during the Eternity War. Mass protests of the war and a cry for a peaceful solution without any suggestions of something that could actually work.

  The Dalthaxia Supreme also announced the planned temporary non-renewal of all government-bonded contracts—that one piqued our interest. Rollings worked directly for the Dalthaxian Alliance—they were the only ones who kept the lights on and kept us working to supply valuable ore. I knew enough about the people I worked with to know most of them were doing this for families they supported in the Eternity System, trying to do enough to stay on the winning side of the war. Things were different for me—I had no one left, nowhere specific to go. Stacy’s messages waited for me once I could get some privacy, the first one from the morning, and the second I hadn’t even read yet.

  I didn’t pay much attention to the rest of the holofeed video as my thoughts consumed me. I was only alerted it was over when the obnoxious Rollings logo appeared on the screen and our company jingle played. What the hell kind of company needed a jingle when their singular customer was a government?

  Clamor erupted as different tables started conversations about the non-renewal of government contracts once the video concluded. The brief, subdued commentary surrounding the other news items was quickly forgotten as if all this madness had just been business as usual. If real war was coming if Eternity Online failed, then Dalthaxia would have an ore shortage on their hands, though that would be the least of their problems.

  “Let’s calm down. If we’re losing our day jobs, Rollings will let us know. And they’ll be obligated to get us off this rock when they reclaim all their equipment,” Nick Ramirez said, raising his voice. “But we’re not losing our jobs.” He was the active foreman on our typical shift, and his voice had an air of command about it that demanded respectful silence and attention. He was stern but kind and fair, and it was clear he wasn’t in the mood to put up with any talks of things that might hurt our current positions with Rollings.

  “How can we calm down? They just announced we’re losing our jobs. And what happens if Rollings decides they don’t want their equipment back and leaves us to rot on this rock?” Tony whined, throwing his fork down onto his plate.

  There were billions of credits worth of equipment and assets on Tiyvan IV, and I didn’t see any possible scenario where the majority of it was abandoned by the company, even as the economies of both factions seemed to be shifting to a focus on wealth in Eternity Online. It was as if some kind of new economic portal—more of a volatile rift, actually—had opened and no one knew how to deal with it. There were admirers, doomsayers, and sharks trying to flip currency and make a quick buck before the potential end of humanity if this didn’t work out. I didn’t really know where I fit in yet.

  Nick raised a hand, motioning for everyone to quiet down and listen. “That’s not what was said, and obviously we’re entitled to news updates while we fly the Dalthaxian flag in this system. Until notified otherwise, we all still have well-paying jobs, all the entitled benefits of working for this company, and a solid career through our mutual employer.” Nick’s calm demeanor reduced the tension of the situation, but side conversations continued.

  It wasn’t the first time I had thought about Rollings censoring our news to prevent unionization or uprising amongst our group, even if that would be a lot harder to do with the newly created Eternity Online universe. Throughout my time working on Tiyvan IV, I’d never felt like Rollings was hiding things from us, but there was also no way to feel so isolated and detached from my old life while I was so far away. The idea of going back to Dalthaxia before my contract ended was unsettling.

  “You good, man? You still seem off, and not just because of the news,” Brandon asked, pulling me into a separate conversation. Tim and Benny were still going at it while Clarissa did her best to moderate.

  “We’ll talk later.” I didn’t want to tell him so publicly, even if I did trust my friends at our table for the most part. It would have been easy to lie—to tell Brandon that I was just distraught over the news about the non-renewal of contracts—but the truth was I probably needed his advice.

  Brandon nodded in understanding, returning his attention to eating. I did the same, more out of necessity than desire at this point.

  As soon as I finished my plate—around the same time Tim was going back to his favorite cook bot for his third—I took the opportunity to retreat to my dorm, a large enough mutual living quarter I shared with Brandon, Clarissa, and Tim. We all had a common kitchen and living space in the center with separate yet compact bedrooms with small personal bathrooms.

  I pressed my finger to the scanner and the door slid open with a sharp hiss. The lights automatically powered on and the CO2 scrubbers kicked on while the air pumps moved additional fresh air to the dorm. We kept it tidy most of the time, and I was especially thankful for that. I couldn’t have dealt with excessive clutter in such an enclosed space. I closed the door as I walked into my bedroom, locking it behind me and climbing on my bed, spreading out and trying to get comfortable to prepare for whatever dread Stacy’s second message might bring.

  Powering on my datapad, I moved to my messages app. My heart jumped into my throat as I saw a new, third message had appeared since I had last checked it.

  The Dalthaxian Supreme Emissary at Salgon (Rollings Mining Company verified sender)

  Identity-Protected Encrypted Message Class 5. Urgent.

  Subject: Congratulations, you have been activated by Stacy Vex.

  Message Origin: Salgon (Dalthaxian S
upreme Emissary)

  Time Stamp: Sent 1.3 standard hours ago. Delivered at 02:46:01 UXT, March 33rd, 3146. 15 Ms delivery achieved (this message is verified to have reached you within the maximum time delay allotted for its expedited delivery status given the point of origin: Salgon.)

  Company Disclaimer: This message was sent through the Rollings Mining Company FRx-34jSk0 Data Jump Relay. All data transmission fees have been covered by the sender as indicated in your employee personal data preferences established in your contract. If the sender fails to cover payment in retrospect, you will not be charged for this data usage. To change these preferences, please contact your colony’s Rollings Mining Company HR representative. Please verify all encryption before receiving or sending confidential data. Rollings Mining Company is not responsible for the loss or alteration of any message sent as Class 1 mail, nor does the company guarantee encryption for any message below Class 3 status.

  Identity verified: Kyle Gennan. Open message?

  I hit N, preparing to open the second message from Stacy.

  7

  Stacy Vex (Approved personal sender)

  Class 2. Standard.

  Subject: I need your help.

  Message Origin: Salgon (Dalthaxian Supreme Emissary)

  Time Stamp: Sent 6.45 standard days ago. Delivered at 27:46:11 UXT, March 32nd, 3146