Fly On The Wall: Fairy Tales From A Misanthropic Universe, Vol. I (10 page)

The exotic
minerals used to make it had been shipped from Saturn, the only
planet where such strange crystals few. He had waited for most of a
decade for the bots to build themselves, mine, and then ship back
that precious cargo. 7 of those years were taken up by the billion
and a half mine journey alone. But now it was happening, and with
the help of the most alien of coursed he dove into his own terra
incognita.

A horde of gauges
clutter the metal dash in front of him. The face of each one
resembles a serene sundown sky; blue backing blends into yellow
rays, then alarming carmine dyed horizons. On each gauge a needle
points westward, no mater how they scream of pressure Benjamin
ignores them, and presses on. At such depths, there is, on each
pin-head's worth of space, the weight of a thousand thousand
mountains, but the exotic material stays strong and do not give,
though it does squeak strangely. The outside shines bright orange
from the friction of descent, as well as the extreme pressure and
heat. Benjamin can little tell the machine where to go, only
monitor its progress, they are locked out of its systems for their
own safety. The precision required to descend to such depths is
beyond what any human can ever achieve. Perils, in the form of
pockets of super-hot gas, or even hard leviathan diamonds, could
cause not only failure of their mission but failure in their very
act of living too. Thus to use a machine instead of a man had been
no choice at all, but a strict edict instead; human error is far
too great a risk.

Sod the sensors
they have no power over me.
Benjamin eyes
the twitching needles, they barely keep him from trying to make his
way out of their metal shell. There is little to do now but wait.
Benjamin can't see out, but that doesn't stop him from being glued
to the gauges, trying to decipher his surroundings. Daydreams
however, manage to pull his attention away. He can see the
headlines now “MAN IN EARTH: Benjamin Richardson, first person to
the centre of the earth!” and his picture – of course, and one of
their great capsule too. He'll never be a settler of distant
planets or moons but he'll be the first to the centre. He'll be the
first to the very innards of humanity's first, and still most
favored home. He'll set a precedent, one that others will always
attempt, but never achieve again.

The capsule keeps
its inner temperature fairly constant despite its glowing outer
shell. Its occupants, while sweating are by no means uncomfortable.
Down it ventures, further and further into the earth. The AI sends
out a warning been, it seems to have found some anomalies in the
rocks ahead; it shows them on a screen, two dark colored spots that
it claims are voids. Hugo supposes they are gas pockets, but the AI
seems to think otherwise. Worryingly, their capsule turns towards
the voids at an alarming rate, one which stresses their laser
drill's mounts generating more warning beeps. It seems to be
attracted by some unknown forces. Hugo knows the machine is
programmed to seek, stop, and open, should it detect any habitable
locations, but that was a pipe dream, more a joke than anything
else.
Maybe we shouldn't have coded that
in.
Hugo's thoughts perturb him as the
shuttle gets hotter, approaching the pockets. Hugo and Benjamin
share a look that makes it clear that they are more and more
convinced that their lives were forfeit, and about to end, then and
there, at the hands of dumb AI which had been fooled by some warm
air.

Perhaps more
pressing than the heat though, the atmosphere within their shuttle
became ever stuffier. Benjamin knocks on a gauge's glass twice. No
answer. The needle inside lies deader than the rock through which
they bore. The air scrubber had failed, the robust filter had
somehow gotten clogged. Perhaps it was better to attempt to land
after all. A conversation of squints later they are both agreed.
Hugo pales at the thought, he doesn't believe the machine but he
knows that with the scrubber down they have no choice. Benjamin's
fanaticism worries him.

Benjamin, on
the other hand, begins to grin – this is more than he ever hoped
for. The stuffy air suddenly seems a blessing to him, not a curse.
What little problems it may cause are of little concern to him,
particularly with the landing so near at hand. Hugo had programmed
this routine as a joke, but Benjamin knew the machine was
infallible, he was sure of it. Hugo shakes his head seeing such
excitement. No life can thrive here, they both know that well
enough, and Hugo suspects there will soon be none once more. Hugo
wonders whether a criticality at that depth would cause even minor
tremors on the surface. After a chin scratch or two, he deems it
unlikely, as they dive ever deeper, ever closer to the
anomalies.

The vehicle
bursts through the void wall with an awful clang and topples end
over end to the ground, well below its entry point, flinging Hugo
and Benjamin to and fro with gusto. Purple bruises will form where
the seatbelts acted under Newton's third law to keep them in place.
Hugo's eyes were long shut tight and he'd prayed his last payers,
but now they edge open. He is stunned by a bleak metal heaven much
more familiar than the one he'd expected to see.

Benjamin only
cares that they're through, and safe. They exchange glances and
begin to verify the vessel's vitals. Much like the air scrubber,
the temperature sensor's needle lay flat, pointing due West.
Surely an error?
Benjamin gives the atmospheric gauge only a cursory glance
before taking off his seat belt and rushing to the capsule’s door.
Hugo looks on horrified, he knows full well that there is still a
solid risk their vessel might be wrong. He knows the exterior might
kill them before they can even open the door. But Hugo is well
strapped in, and Benjamin is too quick. Hugo doesn't get to utter a
single objection before Benjamin releases the latch.

HISSSSSSSSS

Benjamin
backs away, holding his hands as still as he can in front of him,
as though they alone could stop them getting crushed. Hugo's mouth
just hangs wide open. The last was the crux of their pressure
protection mechanism, so their gauges must be correct; it's
survivable. They trade knowledge through yet more puzzled glances.
Could it be? Could there truly be a lost world? The suggestion was
ludicrous, yet the stuffy air seemed gone and their machines
consumed little power now indeed, much less than they ought to
need. The gauges had been built to be foolproof, they could surely
not all lie, they could not all be broken.

Hugo had
devoted his whole life to geology, he knew what he read on that
panel to be impossible, and yet it had to be, otherwise they'd be
dead already. The others laughed at them when they'd demanded suits
for the expedition, it had been worth it though, now both of them
could put them to good use, despite any personal trepidations. They
shimmy their legs into the silver suit pants, frightened and
excited in equal measures. Hugo continues to tremble at the mere
thought of an exterior he knows to be impossible, but Benjamin's
childlike smile reassures him. Like a fool Hugo goes with it,
enchanted by mere brio. Now Hugo stands in a shiny silver suit,
dreading his next steps, all while beads of anxious perspiration
gather on his forehead. He supposes it's for the best, Benjamin's
big puppy dog eyes were the reason he came on this trip in the
first place. Hugo dons his helmet, he won't take any unnecessary
risks. Benjamin meanwhile gives the dash gauges another lookover.
He then takes a deep breath and swings open the heavy metal hatch.
It hits the side of their ship with a loud resounding clang, one
whose echoes even make it through their suits. Benjamin's bare face
is buffeted by a rush of air, like that escaping a freshly opened
oven. The air is not, not ot enough to incinerate or burn, but hot
enough to make Dubai summers feel like Boston winters. At least he
was alive, the gas in which they found themselves was harmless,
neither a toxin, nor acid, nor base. Thankfully too their suits are
cooled. It doesn't take long for the system to detect the flux and
adjust accordingly, keeping their core temperature well within
limits. Benjamin reconsiders donning a helmet for a moment, but he
figures that the temperature is tolerable, and were the gas noxious
he would be dead already. Benjamin lusts to experience all first
hand, so he decides against it.

Shadows rule
supreme, for in that long forgotten depth no light does beam. Their
flashlights barely make small dents in the thick black. Thin
columns support a stone ceiling so great neither man can conceive
of its size. Silhouettes of stalagmites and stalactites threaten
the pair. A bizarre noise breaks through Hugo's thick layers.
Benjamin hears it too: water, a babbling brook of sorts. It comes
from a nearby dull stone wall. The men exchange glances once more.
How could there be water here? Maybe it's something else. Maybe
it's their own pregnant expectation. Whatever it is, they don't
hear the squadron of languid steps approach them from behind. Then
they hear nothing anymore. Now off his head, Hugo's helmet sways
ever more gently from side to side on the cavern floor.

Hugo wakes
first, the slate on which he lay sends cold shivers, ones far too
strong to be compatible with unconsciousness, down his spine. Hugo
is confused but refreshed. He looks around at the décor trying to
decipher his location. The walls and floors themselves seem cut
from bright gem-colored glass. The light's long rays are scattered,
reflected, and refracted across the room by one facet then another.
A plethora of minerals cover the walls in a disgustingly colorful
stucco. From limestone to tanzanite, to rubies, to diamonds, Hugo's
room is wallpapered with a random mosaic composed of every type of
stone to have ever been known. Clashing colors vie for his
attention. The diamonds, embedded shallowest, shimmer with their
typical wild fire in the faintly colored light.

Hugo sits up and
looks around. The walls, though colorful, keep secrets well, he can
see no way in or out, not even a window. Neither the ceiling nor
floor hold any clues of escape either. He can not even make out
from whence the light came.
Perhaps it
shines through the diamonds themselves?
Hugo wants terribly to pick some gems off the walls and bring
them with him for analysis, but he knows that anyone who could
afford such absurd opalescent opulence would not appreciate being
deprived of it. He was imprisoned wasn't he? What other explanation
could there be for the featureless jewel encrusted room? Hugo
doesn't know what to do except wonder which alien species or
foreign nation took him hostage. He had heard that the Chinese were
conducting a similar mission, be he does not believe that they
could have launched it yet.
They simply
can't have obtained the materials so quickly, could they?
Where's Benjamin? That's another thing I need to
know. Ugh.
At this point, Hugo had more
questions than the mosaic walls had jewels.
This is bad.
A loud, prolonged snore
betrays Benjamin's resting place, behind one of the beautiful gem
walls. Hugo hops off of his slate, strides to the wall, and presses
his eye against one of the larger, clearer jewels. There, beyond
the wall, he sees a distorted catatonic lump. Hugo knocks on the
gems, a meditative tone suppresses Benjamin's snores momentarily
then subsides.

Hugo traces the
perimeter of the room with his feet, searching for a way out, any
sort of fault. Only when he gets close does Hugo see the thin slot
between the walls.
So many fragmented gems
make such a loathsome mosaic, though it does hide all features
quite well.
Hugo creeps into the adjacent
chamber, it looks much like his own, but with more topaz fragments.
His eyes dart from one wall to another, seeking more hidden
attributes, and seeking the catatonic lump. Alas, he finds no
features, but for Benjamin's broad back. Hugo smirks. He trained
Benjamin well, physically at least, that much is clear. He'd made
Benjamin what he was now, and even if his puppy dog eyes had lured
them down there, it was Benjamin's training which would keep them
both alive.

Hugo doesn't get
a chance to rouse Benjamin, as he walks over and reaches to prod
him a large section of wall falls away with a tinkling crash,
revealing an orange corridor behind it. A strange creature emerges
from the newly formed gap in the wall. She is no human, but she is
more beautiful than any human could ever be. Her eyes are a deep
royal purple, they clash with long ginger hair in a manner so
enchanting that even Ulysses would not have been able to resist her
charms. Looking closer, Hugo sees that she has no pupils, the
entirety of her eye is purple.
How can she
see?
He wonders.

I hear them
breathe, I smell them live. I feel where they lie asleep, and I
feel how they stir and wake. I dread their obsessed glares and
endless stares. They make me uncomfortable; they always make me
feel as if I've done something quite wrong – despite all we do for
them. What a strange visit this is. None of the council alerted me
of an inspector, and they know the cost of lies too well. So be it,
I'll deal with them later. A strange visit indeed, in an unapproved
ship too – to think! I will make quite an entrance, that always
impresses the feebleminded. They surely wonder where they are by
now. What to do with them should they prove to be intruders, now
that's a question. Such is life, I'll figure it out.