Boots on the Ground - Part 1
Part 1
An out of alignment fan blade on the right side of Baker’s helmet made an endless ticking. It caught, and the sound morphed to a high-pitched whine reminiscent of nails on a blackboard. Within moments, she was breathing stale air laced with the scent of her own exertion.
Shifting her weapon into her right hand, she thumped the side of her helmet with her left. “Glitchy piece of shit.” The fan resumed—now, the ticking sounded reassuring.
Following the green line projected on her heads-up display, she continued her patrol. Twisted metal pieces and spalled concrete slabs littering the ground forced her on a non-linear path. With each step, her boots crunched on the debris-littered ground.
Tilting back at the waist, she gazed up. Skeletal black metal created geometric windows on the writhing sky above. That web of supports was all that remained of the dome that once kept the ammonia-laced atmosphere out. The toxic winds now reached the once sheltered habitat.
Once, this was the recreation dome of a colony numbering thirty thousand—most of whom didn’t make it to safety the day it happened. The day this dome, along with the seven others, all failed simultaneously. Bad sealant, they said, but she doubted that was really what happened—especially now that they had sent her in. Soldiers like her were never sent in for just a ‘sealant’ issue.
She rounded a corner. Wreckage of an amusement park stretched out before her. Although only six months had passed since the dome opened to the atmosphere, the equipment appeared weathered over decades, or even a century. She took a picture and continued on.
A few minutes later, a squeal of grinding metal drew her attention. She swung her weapon towards the sound’s origin and waited.
Her heads-up displays identified the crumpled contraption as a carousel. The original form of the ride appeared as a green line drawing at the top of her view. Mythical creatures such as horses, giraffes, reindeer, pigs, and even an orca once toured children in circles just for fun. She couldn’t imagine how riding in circles could be fun.
A gust of wind made the wreckage move, grinding the pieces together. That was the sound that had drawn her attention—nothing to worry about.
Releasing a grunt, she advanced forward. A dust devil twirled across her view, but she ignored it, her gaze fixed on a horse that might once have been brown.
The metal beast moved—just a shake. Once she reached it, she flipped it over, exposing the dusty ground beneath. She stood and let out a long exhale.
“How did I end up with this shit job?” she said without activating her comms. “Was it because of my fight with Dodd? That oxygen thief deserved what he got.”
Movement in her peripheral vision drew her attention. Her augmented reaction time focused all her sensors in less than a millisecond. A person in a dingy white spacesuit skirted around the debris. It wasn’t top-end armour like hers. Instead, it was just an ordinary atmospheric suit.
“Stop!” Her helmet’s speakers amplified her shout.
The person ignored her order, breaking into a jog instead. They continued before vanishing behind the dilapidated mass of a Ferris wheel.
Baker sprinted to catch up. As she circled to the other side of the decaying Ferris wheel, the figure paused and looked her way. Baker slowed to a walk as she studied her target.
The person was short—well below the average height in this settlement. Their dark faceplate kept her from seeing their eyes. She couldn’t confirm if they were a greenie or not. 87.6% of the original population were greenies, so assuming one stood before her seemed reasonable.
Once she reached ten metres away, she stopped and tried to appear less threatening—an impossible task in full combat armour.
“I’m here to help.” Baker hoped the person wouldn’t question her lie. Her orders were specific—sweep the settlement to identify the source of the signal. Helping survivors, especially when there shouldn’t be any, wasn’t on her list.
As soon as she spoke, the figure darted down the corridor leading out of the dome. It was large enough for small vehicles, suggesting it connected to the neighbouring dome.
Baker’s mind raced as she considered her options. She could ignore the survivor and finish her mission—what she’d been tasked to do. She could call her platoon leader and ask for direction. She bit her lower lip. Asking Lieutenant Oswiu on a comms line open to the rest of her platoon would make her look weak; asking to talk on a private line would look even worse. Or she could follow the survivor. Maybe there was a whole group of survivors she could save. She could be the hero.
“The army didn’t hire me to question.” She brought up the patrol line. The green band extended away from where the survivor had vanished. She took one step and stopped.
The survivor’s space suit was crap. What if they’d been living in it since the domes failed? Pursing her lips, she waffled on what she should do. Her mission was scheduled to take a few hours, so she had some time.
“Damn it!”
She turned off the patrol line and turned to the corridor.
“This better not turn into a wild goose chase.”
Baker suppressed an urge to growl as she followed the path the survivor had taken. At a jog, she entered the corridor. The other person was out of sight, but she didn’t want to scare them further by running at her armour’s maximum speed.
She carried on at a jog, her armour nearly silent despite its weight. The overhead lights were out, forcing her to rely on her heads-up display. Green lines traced the corridor ahead—the path was clear.
Halfway down the corridor, the floor gave way. Her augmented reflexes tried to stop the fall but failed. She slammed into the ground, and her world went black.
Pushing pain away, Baker took a deep breath and did took an inventory of her body. She lay flat on her back and wondered how far she fell. After clenching her fists and wriggling her toes, she determined she didn’t have serious injuries.
She opened her eyes. Bright light shone down on her from above. Blinking, she tried to make sense of her surroundings. Wasn’t the corridor dark? She bit her lip.
“I’m not a bloody rookie,” she told herself. “Focus on the situation.”
Outside of the ring of light where she lay, her eyes couldn’t make out anything in the darkness. She let out a long exhale, but her breath didn’t sound right.
“Wait, I’m not in my suit.”
Her armoured exoskeleton was gone, leaving her feeling exposed. A shiver ran through her as she realized how vulnerable she was. She raised herself up to her elbows.
Debris covered her, small concrete chunks combined with flooring pieces. She wiped the bigger bits away, ignoring the dust, before pushing up to her feet. The hole above was too far to jump up to without a suit; she couldn’t even jump high enough to grab the rim.
“Where is my suit?” Her voice sounded small without her amplifiers. The surrounding darkness seemed to absorb it. Cursing her weakness, she surveyed the illuminated patch of floor around her.
Her mechanized suit of armour was nowhere to be seen. A biometric lock kept her securely inside—meaning an outsider wouldn’t have been able to remove it. Only she or a member of her division could remove it. She swallowed.
“Focus on the situation, Baker.”
The space she was in was roughly five metres tall, the extents she couldn’t determine because of the darkness. She guessed it was the same size as one of the hangar bays up on her home ship. The floor was bare concrete; the exception was the pile of debris from the caved in ceiling.
“Hello?” she shouted into the darkness. The echo of her voice was the only response.
“How am I breathing?” The air smelled stale with a hint of ammonia, but she was breathing just fine. She glanced up again. There was no seal on the hole, and the air above hadn’t been breathable.
“I’m up shit’s creek now.” She scratched the fuzz on the back of her head. “What the hell was I thinking, going all soft like that about some damn civi.” She shook her head. “Focus.”
Looking away from the light above, she peered into the surrounding darkness. Lit from above, waves of dust settled through the air. Stepping forward, she moved out of the pool of light to allow her ordinary biological eyes to adjust to the darkness.
It took a few minutes before she could make out any details in the shadows—it turned out, there weren’t many details to see. Just like the floor and ceiling, the walls were also formed of rough concrete. No furniture of any kind littered the space. She circled through the shadows, hunting for anything that might help her.
Halfway through her transit, Baker stumbled upon a hallway that led into deeper darkness. Keeping one hand on the wall, she slowly walked into it. As her surroundings became completely black, she started testing the ground with her foot before putting her weight down. She didn’t want to risk the floor giving away a second time.
The hall ended abruptly. She groped around and tried to make sense of what she felt. An airtight door, the kind with a metal wheel, blocked her path.
“Lefty loosey,” she whispered as she put both hands on the wheel and started turning it counterclockwise. It turned easily.
How long until I’m considered overdue? The thought of facing her lieutenant after failing in her mission didn’t sit well with her—even worse, she would have to write a loss report for her combat suit. A shiver ran up her spine. Knowing she needed to continue on even though she felt exposed and vulnerable, she opened the door.
to be continued…
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