Chapter 9: Settling In (Part 2)

It was dark by the time they returned—not the familiar black of night, but an alien gloom that none of them were used to. The crimson moon floated in the sky, just above its azure twin. Where their conflicting colors met, the regolith dust of the atmosphere filtered the hues, bleeding them together into a deceptive silver that bathed the planet. Instead of illuminating the terrain, the light made objects appear darker, swallowing the land in shadows.

Flicking an archaic lighter, Eddington held it beneath a pile of twigs and leaves in the center of a rock pit. As the kindling caught fire, he quickly added a branch, then a skinny log. After a couple of minutes, bright flames lit up the immediate area as a bon-fire roared.

While Hinelin, Redler and Orion headed to the northern riverbank to wash up, Giddeon and Kilner heated canned rations over the embers. The lukewarm beans, stale rice, and dense flatbread offered none of them comfort, but it would fill their bellies. As night advanced, the crew gathered close to the crackling blaze.

“I know today’s been nerve wracking,” Hinelin spoke softly, breaking the silence. He took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging as he exhaled. “It’s been a hell of a day. Moreso for some of us.”

His eyes roamed across each of them. “Our AIGES indicates fire should keep us safe, but we’ve already seen how reliable our intel is.” He glanced toward the darkness lurking just beyond the firelight. “We need a watch. To keep the fire fed, and to keep eyes out for…unfriendlies.”

Orion snorted. “Is that even a word?”

“Everyone knows what it means, or should,” Kilner replied somberly. He shook his head, a bitter smirk appearing. “Vibane…they’re full of it. A simple explore-and-gather mission? Yeah, right. Four down and counting. How many do you think we’ll lose tomorrow?”

Redler sneered, wrapping her arms tightly around herself as she stared up at the dual moons. “I’m going to sue when I…if I get back.”

Across the fire, Eddington aggressively chewed on one of his fingernails. “Good luck with that,” he murmured, his eyes glued to the flames. “It’s Vibane.”

“I’m not disagreeing with any of you,” Vessa said. She held her hands out, palms-open in a placating gesture. “But regardless of whether this is Vibane’s fault, or an unforeseen series of events, we’re still in the same predicament. Let’s just trust in our Team Leader so we’re safe for the night.”

“The other Team Leaders voted to send in hunters to sweep each sector before our teams go in,” Hinelin shared. “We’re trying to ensure nothing like today happens again. At the very least, it should minimize the danger.”

This seemed to calm some of their fears, knowing trained men and women would be clearing out the woods beforehand.

“Is there any chance of returning early?” Redler asked.

Vessa shook her head. “We won’t even be traveling to the take-off site for another month, and I doubt Vibane would authorize an early leave, even if we could contact them.”

“We just have to suck it up,” Hinelin told them.

“What about…the bodies?” Eddington’s voice cracked. His gaze remained fixed on the flames, refusing to look out into the darkness.

“We wrapped the three we have,” Hinelin answered, his voice flat. “The team leaders will decide what to do with them tomorrow.”

Giddeon rubbed his rifle’s chamber vigorously with a dry rag, frowning as he saw how much black dirt smudged the white cloth. “There’s no way to preserve them. You should burn them, or they’ll rot.”

“Is that what you One-ers do?” Redler snapped. She glared at him as if he were nothing more than a wild savage. “Just burn the dead?”

Giddeon paused with his rag on the rifle. He looked across the fire, meeting her glare. “Rot causes disease. Disease kills the living. Dead bodies draw in wild animals.”

“He’s right,” Oomah agreed, her gaze glued to the fire much like Eddington’s. “About the pathogens part. I wouldn’t know about the wild animals thing.”

“Hmph,” Redler huffed, staring at the fire.

“…Did anyone else gain stats?” Eddington mumbled.

Hinelin raised his hand. “It appears Vibane’s theory of power transference has some merit. After we killed that cat-beast, I felt more…energetic. Here.” He patted his chest. “I had my AIGES analyze me and a few others that stated they were feeling different. We each gained aspects, but they varied person to person.”

Kilner’s brow furrowed. “Aspects? You mean stats?”

“Yeah, whatever you guys call them,” Hinelin said, waving his hand dismissively.

“I—I um, gained some Luck, it seems,” Eddington offered.

Kilner flashed a sardonic smile. “Well, lucky you!”

“Who else gained?” Vessa leaned forward, staring at each of them with intense interest. “We’ve got zero data on how this transference actually works. Anything you felt, or saw, I’d love to know.”

“Just pull up their character sheets,” Giddeon instructed. “The changed stats are highlighted in gold. At least-they were when I last checked.”

“Six hours,” Hinelin said cryptically, reaching down and tossing another log into the fire.

“Six hours for what?” Orion asked as the team leader went silent.

“That’s how long the gold highlight lasts on aspect…I mean, stat,” Hinelin explained.

Redler’s eyes narrowed. “You sure know a lot we don’t. That was never in our briefings”

“I was brought on board months before the rest of you,” Hinelin explained, rolling the log around with a thick stick. “For my military expertise. In case…” He paused, his voice trailing off into the night.

Redler’s eyebrows raised. “In case?”

“Situations like this.”

“Oh, just wonderful.” Kilner threw his hands up. “Vibane knew. This isn’t a mission—it’s an experiment.” He glared at Hinelin. “Is that why they sent us down here? As test subjects?” His gaze lifted skyward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Are they watching us now? Taking notes on how each of us dies?”

His words sparked instant panic. A wave of angry mumbles and loud discontent rippled through the group.

“Let’s not lose our heads,” Vessa spoke up. Her voice rose above the noise, carrying a perfectly calibrated warmth meant to soothe their rising hysteria. “It doesn’t matter what the intent was. Complaining won’t change the situation we’re in. Our only choice right now is to stay together. That’s our best chance at survival.”

Kilner jolted to his feet, knocking the small supply box he was sitting on over in the process. “Survival? What a way to spin things.”

“Mr. Kilner—”

The man shook his head, waving her away as he stalked off into his tent. “Let me know if we survive the night!” he called out from inside.

“Someone’s clearly had enough,” Orion murmured.

“We still need a fire watch,” Hinelin stated, looking around the small circle.

Giddeon held up two fingers. “I’ll take second watch.”

“Noted.” Hinelin tapped the wooden crate he sat on. “Unless anyone else has a preference, I’ll chart the order. Shifts ‘ll last two hours. Wake the next person before hitting the sack.” He rifled through a tin container and pulled out a small hourglass. Flipping it, he set the ancient timekeeper atop the wood. “I’ll take first watch. Sand runs out every ten minutes. Twelve turns, and you’re done. Everyone got it?”

The group gave a tired nod.

“Got it, Kilner?” Hinelin called out loudly.

“Got it!” Kilner shot back.

“Alright everyone, try to get some rest. We’re up at sunrise.” Hinelin waved them off, then glanced over. “Giddeon, a moment before you head out, please.”

Giddeon paused as the others retired to their tents. “How’d you know I was leaving?”

“You wanted second shift. You’re going to see Uzari, aren’t you?”

He’s wittier than he looks, Giddeon thought, nodding.

“Agreed,” Johnny replied. “I’ll have to update his Intelligence score.”

Hinelin squinted, staring at him quietly. “Did you purposefully fail your tests?” He shook his head. “There’s no way all your stats are ten.”

Giddeon shrugged. “I may have stayed up all night before my testing.”

“Even so, none of your numbers have changed. I would have thought you gained some power through that transference thing.”

“Maybe I can’t.” Giddeon threw the thought out there. “After all, we don’t know how anything works here really. Vibane thinks they do, but from the very start, nothing’s gone according to plan.”

“No arguments here,” Hinelin said. He patted Giddeon’s shoulder. “You did a good job today. I’m glad you’re on our team. Send Mrs. Uzari my regards. I’ll visit her later, after everyone here is settled.” He glanced around. “Some require more babysitting than others.”

“Will do,” Giddeon replied.

As he hastily made his way through the separated camps, his pulse picked up pace—a frantic rhythm he wasn’t accustomed to. He wiped a sudden layer of sweat from his palms upon seeing the medical tent. Standing in front of its door, he frowned. No guard was posted there. Despite its location smack-dab in the middle of Base Camp Six, it still worried him that Uzari was helpless inside, with no one to protect her. Pushing the tent flap aside, he stepped in, immediately spotting her.

She was sitting up on a reclining cot in the corner, vacantly staring at the canvas wall. Three wounded Aiges occupied other cots, their respective team members hovering over them as they chatted. Silently, he placed his rifle against a crate.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re unharmed!” Uzari exclaimed as she noticed him approaching, her hand instinctively covering her heart. “I must have passed out at some point. What about the others?”

“Everyone is fine.” He stood beside her, smirking. “Everyone but you, that is.”

“On our end,” she replied soberly, her eyes locked on the other wounded Aiges across from them.

Giddeon spared them a glance before returning his gaze to her. He cleared his throat. “A few from other teams didn’t make it. Hinelin said three total di—perished.”

Uzari hung her head. “I see. Our first night, and three killed by wild beasts and one by a naga.”

“They’re called geklus,” Giddeon informed her.

“They’re called geklus,” Johnny’s voice echoed in his head at the exact same instant.

Uzari’s eyes narrowed, a subtle expression he remembered well from their five years in Asteria. “How do you know what they’re called?” she asked. “They look like nagas, and the AIGES says they’re nagas.”

“I’ve some inside information,” he replied evasively. “I’ll tell you later.”

She stared at him for a few seconds. “It’s later now.”

Giddeon cracked a genuine smile for the first time in years. “You always had a twisted personality.”

Uzari smirked. “Takes one to know one—that’s an Earth One saying, correct?”

He nodded. “I’m just glad you’re ok. What did they say about your leg?”

“Oomah patched it up well with Bethel, a nurse from one of the other teams,” she said, yawning before smiling wanly. “That Hemozin must be amazing stuff. They gave me some good drugs too, though I’m a bit drowsy now. Considering the lack of equipment, I’m happy with this.”

She instinctively patted her gauze-wrapped leg. “Ouch!” she hissed, flinching. Giddeon quickly intercepted her hand, pulling it away from the wounded area.

“Don’t touch it, silly,” he chided as he gently placed her fingers to rest on her stomach, his own hand lingering there.

Her eyes shot up to meet his. They sat there, their gazes locked.

Giddeon snapped his hand away, his eyes wandering over to another cot where a woman was avidly chatting with a young man wearing a sling over his left arm. “I—I meant try to be more careful, will you?” His gaze returned, insistent. “Okay?”

She smiled, lowering her eyes. “I will. Thank you, Gid.”

“For?”

“Saving me. What you did was just—”

“Something GidSeres would do?”

Her eyes shot back up. She nodded. “Exactly. Something dumb. This is real life, not some game. Don’t die trying to save me again, got it?”

A faint smile danced around his lips as he patted her hand. “I’ll try not to die. Get some rest. When you’re back on your feet, I’d like to test out your new stats. I’m curious how much improves with a single point.”

“Oh, I didn’t even notice!” she blurted, surprised. Her focus shifted as she pulled up her interface. A few seconds later, her eyebrows furrowed. “The gold lettering’s a nice touch, but I gained Int and Dex? What an odd combination. I can’t test my Dex right now, obviously, but I’d have to say I don’t feel any smarter.”

“We don’t know how profound each point is,” Giddeon pointed out. “But going up is always good.”

Uzari smiled wryly. She stared blankly at him for a second, her eyes drifting to the bottom left, producing a frown. “Why are yours all still ten?”

He leaned closer, placing his finger on his lips. “Shhh,” he whispered. “Another secret.”

“You seem full of secrets, Giddeon Seres.” Her frown deepened. “What about our time in Asteria? Were you being—”

“I kept no secrets from you,” he interrupted, his voice low, yet firm. “Now, get some rest. Did they feed you?”

She nodded, yawning behind her hand.

“Good.” He patted her hand. “I’ll be back in the morning. Try not to get too bored, you know, staring at the tent wall.” He nodded at the blank panel in front of her. “If you want, I can ask the medic to change the channel?”

His gaze turned to the sole medical personnel present, a man slouched in a chair, an ancient print book folded on his stomach as he slept away.

Uzari snorted, then nodded. “I’ll shut the wall holo off later,” she assured him.

“You do that.” He winked. With a parting wave, Giddeon exited the tent, his eyes lingering on her until the flap closed behind him.

As he headed back to Camp Panda, Johnny struck up a conversation. “I think you’ve still got a thing for your old girlfriend.”

Mind your own business.

“I’m just saying. There’s something there, I can feel it!”

You’re an AI. You can’t feel anything. You’re only programmed to believe you can.

“A little harsh there, don’t you think? Even if I was an AI, man you lay it on thick. Deny it all you want, this primordial ooze senses something.”

I believe you believe you do.

“Hmph,” Johnny huffed, then went silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “Do you mind if I ask you an honest question?”

As compared to a dishonest question?

“You don’t trust me, do you?”

Nope.

“Is that why you haven’t used your mana? Even when threatened?”

Yep.

“You could have died there, you know, or anyone else for that matter.”

Using an untested program can get me, and those around me, killed. I’d rather do it where I can’t hurt others.

“It’s not a program—it’s an ability.”

Tomato, tomahto.

“Haha,” Johnny deadpanned, his voice flat. “With the schedule they have you guys on, you might never get to ‘test’ your mana.”

I’d rather get back into my AIGES. Check the coding and whatnot to see its intent.

“Except, it’s not a program.”

To me it is. Tinkering with experimental stuff Vibane cooked up is too dangerous. I might raise my Endurance, then explode my heart, or up my Intelligence and my head goes pop! No thanks.

“None of that will happen, trust me,” Johnny assured him.

I’m a little paranoid, if you haven’t noticed.

“I have. Believe me, I have.”

Giddeon dispersed his thoughts as he stepped into the flickering light of Camp Panda. Hinelin was the only person outside, perched on a crate as he poked at the fire with a long stick.

“How is she?” the team leader asked as Giddeon claimed an empty crate nearby. “She’ll recover.” Giddeon picked up another stick, stirring the ashes to help a fresh log catch fire. “She’s in good spirits. They gave her Hemozin.”

“Good stuff.” Hinelin nodded. “They had to shoot me up with that stuff during the last skirmish we had with One-er pirates. Almost lost my left arm.” He rotated the appendage as if the memory still brought back old aches. “I’ll visit her when my shift’s over. It was brave of her, you know, fighting beside you guys. Not too many women have that kind of grit.” He paused, his gaze following a stray spark as it floated up into the night air. “I heard Orion was useless.”

“Ran before we even knew what was going on,” Giddeon replied.

“He’s young,” Hinelin grunted. “Got no military training, but he’s built for fighting.” He rolled a log around with his stick, stoking the flames. “Shame he’s a coward.”

“Don’t let him have a gun,” Giddeon suggested, patting the butt of his rifle. “He’ll accidentally shoot someone.”

Hinelin snorted. “Probably. They should have vetted the hunters better.” He looked around at the dark perimeter. “And this place as well. What they told us and what we’ve already seen…” He shook his head. “Kilner was right, though I’ll never admit to it. It’s an absolute clusterfest.”

“Maybe everyone needs to treat the place like a game,” Giddeon suggested.

Hinelin’s eyebrow shot up. “That sounds like the opposite of what I’d do.”

“You misunderstand.” Giddeon pointed at the tents one by one. “Everyone here has something in common—they’ve all played immersive games. Extensively. It’s why they were picked.”

He leaned closer to the fire, holding his hands out to absorb some of its heat. “They know the dangers of a simulated world, and how easily they can die. We want them scared, to take precautions. So, tell them to use their game experience to the fullest.”

Hinelin frowned, mulling over his words. “Hmm,” he finally replied. “I’ll think about it.”

Giddeon held his rifle out. “Extra firepower? For your watch?”

Hinelin waved it away. Reaching to his side, he tapped a small, holstered firearm. “Team leaders decided to break out extra weapons for the night.”

“Colt .45?” Giddeon instantly recognized the silhouette. “Should stop most things. As long as they’re not too big.”

Hinelin offered a sideways glance. “You sure you didn’t tank your tests?”

Giddeon grinned roguishly. “Cheaters never tell.”

“Fair enough.” Hinelin patted his own rifle. “I’m good. If these don’t stop whatever comes, another gun won’t help. It’s getting late. You should get some shuteye.”

“Aren’t you worried?” Giddeon asked. “When someone like Oomah or Eddington is on watch, all alone?”

Hinelin shrugged. “Nothing to do about it. No time to train them, and we can’t give them guns. The best they can do is scream.”

Giddeon nodded as the grim implication settled between them. Hinelin was right. Unfortunately, they had to rely on them.

“Night,” Giddeon said, turning to leave. He paused after his first step, looking over his shoulder. “Oh, and I misspoke when I said everyone has extensive game experience.” He paused. “You don’t. See you tomorrow, Team Leader.”

Giddeon became a dark figure as he entered the shadows, heading toward his tent. Hinelin was left alone by the fire.

Deep in thought, the team leader poked at the logs, sending a fresh shower of embers floating up into the night sky. The fire crackled, blazing brighter. He wanted it bright. The darkness here was absolute, heavier than anything he was used to, making the light a necessity. Recalling Giddeon’s parting words, he snickered.

“Yeah,” he murmured, watching the flames dance inside the ashes. “He tanked it.”

UPCOMING CHAPTER IMAGE: