[Player Log Start!]
[Log Holder: Lucky Paine]
[Level: 1, Sub-Level: 7]
Lucky’s wings were outstretched as far as they could go, whipping wind through the chair’s new, streamlined shape. The carbon isolators were heavy, too heavy to be taken up to the places they needed to be, so they had to go back and forth from the base to install them.
The routes had been carefully plotted to maximize efficiency, measuring travel speeds and installation times to figure out which ones would take the least time to do. The one they were doing right now was meant to be the quickest one. They would be working down from the fastest to the slowest (and the furthest), with an estimated total time of four days if they worked as hard as they could manage.
On her armrest, the radar was picking up a cliff maybe a kilometer away. They angled the wings to slow the chair down, flipping switches to unfold their landing gear. Six hundred meters, and she had readied the hover engines.
Four hundred meters, and her finger was on the brakes, nerves on high alert. Had to time it just right, or else risk either falling into the canyon, or slamming into the rock wall. Two hundred, one hundred, fifty, twenty five- NOW!
She squeezed the brake pedal hard, and it froze midglide. The hover engines took over, holding the chair above the small rock ledge, and helping her lower them onto the ledge with her reliable claws. A bunch had to be removed because of the weight problem, but the five she had allowed herself would just have to do.
Finally, the chair settled onto the ground firmly, the legs curled at their normal angles. A slight hiss sounded as the wings retracted into themselves.
“Are we there yet?” Ben asked, her voice pitched to an impossible octave. Maybe it was not a good idea to have her hanging on the back of the chair at such dizzying heights. A harness belt must not be enough to convince her of safety.
“Yes.” Lucky agreed drily, leaning slightly out of her chair to unstrap the carbon isolator from where it had settled beside them, “Now, let us get this up and running.”
“About that…” Ben whispered stepping off the chair with shaky feet, “What are we supposed to do, exactly? I don’t see any charging ports to plug this into.”
“The chlorophyll jars will be used to power it.” Lucky answered, pulling out the jars she had packed, wrapped up in plenty of fabric to not break anything, “We do not need a ‘charging port’ for this.” The sun was bright, despite its grey light. The coloration had not affected the energy produced from the jars she had made, so she decided to take the blessing as what it was.
“Yeah, obviously not. It wouldn’t work even if those existed here.” Ben shook her head, “That was a joke.”
“Well, if you’re done making jokes, I need you to bend down to attach it to the ground so that it doesn’t fall.” Lucky replied, feeling a little uncomfortable at not getting jokes. Obviously, she was not supposed to understand it, but she couldn’t help being insecure at being left out of things.
Ben nodded, grabbing a welding torch to melt the fixings directly into the rock. Sharp spokes would be hammered in through the loops, and then bent into half with the help of the heating implement. It was also very low to the ground, and bending down sounded like absolute hell to them, so they instead settled on attaching the chlorophyll jars to the isolator instead.
They made a good team together, splitting up the work they other couldn’t do, until finally the whole thing was set up. A giant tube, with a fan inside it, with five green jars and one empty lining the outside, stood on the cliffside, skimming the very edge of the black smog layer, shining victoriously in the colorless sky.
Lucky grinned as they took it all in. The first anchor of their victory.
“Great. Now, how do we turn it on?” Ben asked, wiping her hands off from the soot that had gathered all over, from the close proximity to the smoke, “Cause I don’t see an off button.”
“We don’t want to make it easy to turn off.” Lucky reminded her, pulling out a soldering iron to connect two small, loose wires together. Not even the biggest of the bunch, and easy to miss. Yet when she connected them, the fan roared to life inside the tube, and the smog rushed in.
The empty jar became coated with a thin layer of black soot immediately, slowly thickening over time. But no black air escaped from the other end. Just oxygen.
In seconds, the area around them was emptied of smog. Yet, even more came flooding in from all directions. And the fan continued to chug away, vacuuming it all up with no complaint.
Lucky let out a sigh of great relief, “It really works.” They whispered, stars in their eyes. Ben nodded in agreement, holding her hand up in a silent high five. Lucky returned it hesitantly.
They lingered for a few more minutes, watching the isolator do its thing in equal parts awe, and also to check if it kept doing its job.
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Finally, Ben broke the silence with a shaken cough, “So, next one?”
“Next one.” They agreed, moving to check their fuel gauge. There seemed to be enough for her to make the trip if they took advantage of the air currents that should theoretically be there.
Ben carefully stepped onto the panel at the back, hooking her harness securely to the cords on the handles. She checked it multiple times, tugging on it carefully until she was certain that it was solid. She had a tendency to be overly paranoid about these things. Maybe they should take more time to build a better safety belt for her?
“Absolutely not.” Ben gritted out, holding onto the back of the chair when they posited this option, “It’s going to take even more time than we’ve already used up. I can-” She squeaked as the chair rattled wildly before takeoff, “I can take it!”
Lucky could spot a lie by now, but she let her continue with that claim.
----------------------------------------
The rest were unremarkable. She would say that they had gotten through it quickly. Efficiently. Minus a mishap where Lucky had nearly pitched them both into a sludge-filled crevasse that might have been a river at some point. But that was just a minor thing.
Until, finally, they only had the furthest one left.
“This one is the biggest.” Lucky informed her, hefting the giant tube onto the chair’s gripper claws, “And the journey will be the longest. Ten hours of straight flying. You up for it?”
Ben looked faint, staggering on the spot at the very idea. But still, she stood tall, “Yes.”
Lucky gave her a backpack they had been designing, between their trips to set up the isolators. Ben looked intrigued, opening it to find nothing but plain canvas. Lucky was practically vibrating on the spot to tell her about the device she had engineered.
“It is meant to increase surface drag when you are falling, while maintaining the weight you have originally, allowing the person to survive a fall from incredible distances.” They began to lecture.
“Oh, like a parachute.” Ben nodded, “Yeah, I’ve heard of those. Seen them, too. Never up close though.”
Of course they had. Because Lucky could not be allowed to invent anything new by herself. She tried not to show their frustration with this revelation.
“Well then, I hope it helps you feel safer when we make the trip.” Lucky explained.
Ben smiled at her, a ray of pure sunshine, “Thanks, Lucky. You’re a real treasure. Is that an old-timey compliment? Because it sounds like an old-timey compliment.”
Lucky couldn’t help but grin, “No, it is not a common compliment. But I will accept it, anyway.”
“Which means I win. And you’re a treasure.” Ben insisted, putting on the backpack and buckling it in properly, “Now, what do I pull to get the parachute to come out?”
“How did you know- it matters not. This little bar over here.” Lucky helped point out the strap rom where it was snaking its way from the left shoulder strap. Ben gave it an experimental tug, but not hard enough to cause anything to happen.
“If you’re done dallying, help push me outside.” Lucky told her, “I’m trying not to overexert myself until we’re in the sky.”
“Of course not.” Ben agreed, wheeling her out. People passed by them busily during their journey. Some spared only a wave. Others called out greetings and encouragements and questions to the person they viewed as having brought them here.
“When will you be back?” Lance asked, an intrepid young man who had taken to growing their steadily blossoming gardens. That consisted of a very sturdy forget-me-not plant, several weeds, and a potato plant that had yet to show any signs of life.
“Two days, at the best.” Lucky replied, “Try to make all newcomers feel welcome, alright?”
“You know we always do.” Melinda shook her head. She was right. The community they had managed to foster was of a rare breed. Always welcome to lend helping hands and provide comfort to the shaken individuals who came by.
There was a steady stream of people who were coming in and out. A stockpile of medicine, herbs, and morphine slowly building up. Ben had taken the last of that aside and advised Lucky to use it sparingly. Something about harmful and addictive properties, which was just ridiculous, because if it had been harmful, someone would have said something. Right?
…Best not to answer that question. Just focus on getting them into the air and piloting.
They had scoped out the perfect place to set up their largest isolator yet. On the other side of the mountain range, to maximize the amount of space being vacuumed at any given time. This also meant that it was a painfully long journey. But, there was the alluring promise of it being the last one.
No more after this. It would all be fixed, if the Game was to be believed.
Ben tapped her shoulder, an action so unexpected that Lucky flinched, wrenching them wildly off course. Ben, understandably, screamed at that, clutching onto her shoulder even tighter, until Lucky gathered her senses – which was very difficult to do when fighting blistering fast air currents – and called back, “What was so important?”
“There’s some-” The rest of the words were lost, snatched away by the gale.
“What?” She screamed, turning her head forwards to make a hasty, but still elegant, landing on a platform that was a short distance away from their original landing zone, but was large enough to do the job they needed of it.
In the still air, it was easy to hear Ben as she gasped out her words, “I said that there’s someone there!”
Oh. Oh, crap. Lucky made to turn around and see for themself, but they knew that it would be true. And more than that, they knew who it would be.
[Player Has Entered the Field!]
True to their expectations, a woman with bright blue hair landed in front of them, hoisted forward by invisible arms that must have been larger than Lucky herself. And she considered herself to be a tall person, when not sitting down. Which she usually was, so people never noticed.
Ciera grinned at them, and were her teeth sharper than they were before? Because Lucky could swear that they were. Bruises from their last encounter were still apparent, ringed around her eyes and one cheek swollen up like a balloon. She made no effort to hide the injuries, grinning despite it all.
“Good eye, Benedict.” She congratulated her, “Of course, if I didn’t want you to see me, I wouldn’t have shown myself, so don’t think you won any prizes simply for falling for my trap.”
“Was the way you left yourself open for an attack last time a trap, too?” Ben fired back.
Ciera’s eyes narrowed, “You want to know what you’re up against?” She asked, “You haven’t even seen the whole of me. Wanna take a peek?” She giggled, splaying a hand out as the air around her began to flicker like a mirage.
Twisting, giant shadow arms came into view. They were the smog that covered everything, except denser, more solid. All of them coiling around their master, whose venomous eyes and bright hair shown out from behind the smog.
“Say hi, girls.” She crooned, and all the arms flew forward as one.
[Player Log End!]