A Stroll beside a Neutron Star
Referendum on Madrono City fails!
Saint Century-Activists have long sought to close the Mad City Prison complex; today, the choice was placed on the ballot for citizens to decide. The referendum failed 51-49, much to the disappointment of its supporters. Jackson Shaw had this to say: “What can I say? The will of the people is very, very strong. They love our beautiful OH people, but they love safety even more.” Justice Jones reiterated his support against the measure via a targeted press release, while Lady Steel (Né Corina Kyle) could not be reached for comment as she has been off-world.
-Century City NewsBlast
“I wanted no part of their plan.” The Urgineer cast an imposing figure. He walked with a pronounced gait and gasped as he spoke. He wore a partially translucent metallic suit; what looked like human lungs were visible in the chest cavity. He was standing over the horseshoe console, and his chair remained split open.
Sam was walking around it, inspecting it, and found it utterly fascinating. He felt like a primate seeing fire for the first time. The inside was wet, fleshy, and groove-shaped like The Urgineer’s body, with six cables protruding from various points. Head, arms, back, and legs, Sam surmised. Corina was staring out the view screen at the star. Blue light danced across her features and softened them.
“What plan?” She turned around and asked.
“When my people learned about the sun dying, they wanted to try and save the entire planet. I thought it was madness far beyond our capabilities,” they said. “I felt we should travel the stars instead; find a new home. And I did so. We were both correct; it turned out.”
“You found a new home?”
“No, I found a purpose. Uzrath endured, however.”
“Are your people immortal?” That was Sam.
The Urgineer glanced behind them. “I am more machine than bio-organic. I’ve replaced many organs with synthetic counterparts; I’ll still be here past the heat death of the universe.” The Urgineer returned its gaze to the console and said, “I cannot speak for them. It’s been quiet there.”
“Where?” Corina asked.
“The Errant Vinyard,” they replied, and Corina took a step back. Everyone knew of that sector. Even Sam had recognized it. A ton of folklore was built around it, spoken of in hushed terms and matter-of-fact seriousness. No one went to the Vinyard, at least not on purpose, unless you were some adrenalin junkie, but even then. Most galactic maps stopped cataloging it less than a decade after the disappearance of “Superbad” Jensen Allyn.
Allyn was a self-described ultimate daredevil who ran tours to the Vinyard and claimed to have gone there multiple times without issue. There were rumors that he was an OH to explain why he had survived so many death-defying stunts. Allyn’s most notable accomplishment at the time was when he surfed the cable of a space elevator.
Once he survived that, all his future endeavors went without a hitch. In the lead-up to his latest trip, he had promoted the entire enterprise on social media across the Bleednet; he’d even roped in a few mildly famous bleedcasters to join him. It quickly became this whole thing.
But the updates just stopped, and everyone went silent.
It was a big story, talked about for hours until the next big thing caught everyone’s attention and outrage. On the deeper net, a clip from the expedition had made the rounds; the last thing Allyn had sent out into the ether. Corina had never sought it out herself, but she did have it described to her once as it was reasonably straightforward: Screaming and lots of it.
“You said your friend wields the Cyntaff?” The Urgineer asked, and Corina nodded. “It has been a long time since I have thought of C’hiad. I used to keep track of it but lost interest around the 10th one or so. You believe she is on Uzrath?”
Corina nodded, “Something about ‘quantum flux,’ whatever that means.” The Urgineer grew quiet. The sound of his lungs expanding was harsh, like glass ground underneath a boot.
“A side effect of the engines, as I feared would happen,” they said. “Their vibrational frequency must shift between the Bleed and the real indefinitely.”
“Engines…?” Corina asked. “Vibrational freq—what?” These questions went ignored as The Urgineer fiddled with the screens in front of it.
“Well,” Corina continued, “Maybe you can create something that will get our…vibrational…frequency…? …to match theirs?”
The Urgineer stood up abruptly and returned to the open seat. The metal of his body pressed into the fleshy inside while the cables clicked on his back. The two halves suddenly closed, forcing Sam to jump abruptly. He walked around the console to join Corina, who looked utterly annoyed. Once the two sides were sealed shut, the loud hissing/breathing resumed.
Childs play.
But.
You’ll need to collect degenerate matter. From out there.
Corina’s eyes went wide, looking behind her, “Are you serious?”
I will require some to build what you seek. My forge is low on it, and my usual way of collecting it requires maintenance. You can wait for that or go out there yourself. Matters little to me.
“Why did you go back in there?” Sam interjected. He stepped all over Corina, who was incredulous and was staring at The Urgineer.
Only a matter of time before my lungs finally fail. I require this machine to do the majority of my breathing while it is building me new ones.
“Can we get back to me going out there” Corina shot a look at Sam and walked around him. “How am I supposed to be doing that exactly?”
A klaxon horn went off to her right. A cylinder capsule rose from the ground in the corner of the room. It was onyx-colored and reflected all the ambient light in the control room. With a hiss, the doors slid open horizontally and behind Corina and Sam was a silver metallic suit with a square glass helmet. It, too, refracted the ambient light in the room. Corina casually strolled up to the outfit and inspected it. She held a sleeve in her hand; it felt loose and flexible but was solid enough to protect the wearer.
This suit will protect you from the star's intense heat and gravity. Although I suspect you are made of hearty stuff.
“Ah, the great Urgineer has heard of Lady Steel too, eh?” She said sardonically.
Who?
Corina scrunched her face and felt her skin turn red. She pulled the suit off the hook; it immediately stiffened as the back of it spread open strand by strand like a cascading sliding door. Corina stepped into the outfit. It sealed around her as she pulled the material over her arms and legs. She pulled off the helmet from the capsule and slammed it down onto her collar; it locked with a loud chunk. The floor beneath her lit up in a pattern leading out of the chamber.
Follow the lights to the airlock. You will find a matter collection device that you will use. You must be close to the photosphere before it turns on.
“Great,” was all she said.
She started following the lights. The door irised open and led to a hexagonal hallway, although not as long as before. Corina walked through the opening and continued following the lights. Her footfalls were heavy and silenced in the suit. Each loud step called attention to her breathing which sounded like it was funneling through a tube.
After a few feet, the lights stopped. On Corina’s left, another door marked with strange writing she couldn’t recognize, although she imagined it was a warning. She turned to face the door, and the thing began to slide upward with an echoing clack from the inside machinery. It whined like it hadn’t been used in ages. That was probably true, all things considered.
She entered the room, and the door began sliding down quickly. The airlock door was in front of her, and the chamber was barely 20x20. Deep grooves were carved into the walls, while the door had a massive red handle that she would need to pull to open. Aside from some stylistic differences, it wasn’t all that different from other airlocks.
To her left was a metal box about the size of a typical toolbox. She crouched beside it and tapped the top; it unlatched loudly and flew open. Inside was a device with a grooved handle that fed into a rectangular box with nobs and levers. Attached to that end of the body appeared to be some sort of flexible material, almost cellophane-like. She inspected it some more briefly before dropping her hand. She grabbed the red handle with her other hand and pulled down on it, careful not to rip it off the hinges with her colossal strength.
A loud thunk greeted her as the magnetic locks sealed on one end while released on the other. The entire door felt loose in her hand while the hiss of oxygen escaping filled her ears. She gave a quick tug, and the whole door dislodged from the entry. It hung there lightly due to the lack of gravity; Corina casually placed it against the wall on her right.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
Although this section of the machine didn’t face the star, and she was wearing a protective suit, she could feel the heat from the star easier than she expected. She stuck her head out the lock and glanced around. To her right were blackness and the rest of the machine, its long serpentine body extending invisibly into the void. On her right, the rest of the machine head, where Sam and The Urgineer were, and the neutron star. The helmet lens immediately polarized so she wouldn’t go blind, but even with that, she had to squint. Corina stepped back in, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.
Corina floated up and out of the lock and drifted for about 30 seconds before propelling herself toward the star. Looking up into her peripheral vision, she activated the COMM system of her suit and asked, “Can you hear me?”
Yes.
“I’ve got the device and am making my way,” she said. “How does this thing work, exactly?”
Once you reach the corona, the device will activate, but the bag will not fill up until you’re past that and closer to the photosphere. Not too close, lest you fall into the gravity well.
“We definitely don’t want that,” Sam had cut in, his emotions plain for her to hear.
“Shut up, Sam.” She said. “Okay, so close but not too close? I can handle that.” She hoped. Corina never dared get this close to a star for all her power and amazing feats. She was putting a lot of faith into this suit The Urgineer had built, but not just that. She wanted to save her friend, and if this were what needed doing, then she would do it one way or another.
The star was gigantic relative to her. The closer she got, the more minuscule she felt. The blue-white plasma shifted and swayed like a belly dancer, and as she passed the corona, she felt like she could feel the radiation pass over and through her. The device in her hand had powered up, and she could feel it vibrating through her gloved fingertips. She glanced down at the machine; it had started to smoke but seemed to be handling the heat well. The suit was also hanging tough. The intense heat also caused aspects of it to smoke, but she wasn’t feeling any of it aside from the mild anxiety the entire situation was causing.
Hold.
“Close enough, eh?” The crack in her voice had betrayed her natural propensity for bravado. A red icon suddenly started blinking rapidly in her peripheral vision; some warning signs were universal no matter how alien the iconography was.
“What is that? Talk to me,” she shouted. Her view through the helmet screen began to grow significantly, very white.
Coronal Mass ejection.
“Move!” Sam’s voice smashing through nearly broke the speaker. Corina attempted to propel herself in the opposite direction but got knocked back immediately and bathed with intense plasma and heat. With every pulse hit, she tumbled in the photosphere, and her atoms felt like they were on fire.
Corina’s vision bathed a myriad of colors constantly changing. Switching from red to blue, then blue to yellow, and finally yellow to purple, this continued for 30 more seconds. Corina’s entire equilibrium felt thrown off; her brain mushed like melted ice cream. Things like north and south were relative as it was out in the black without factoring in being thrown around.
Alarms and warnings shouted gibberish at her while she tried to get under control. Corina needed to push and propel herself out of this unless she had already sunk in too far. Her suit cooked, and she expected it to burn off any moment. Instinctively Corina held her arms crossed in front of her head and face like how she’d block any punch or attack.
Her inner forearms felt the slightest bit cool when she did this, and had given her a crazy idea: She started punching. Her hands pushed through the heat and energy, like hitting the water. But it was working. Plasma careened off her fists in every direction, biting into the gloves of her suit as they did so. The outer layer started to chip away around her knuckles, but she continued to swing.
The magnetic band representing the flare started pushing back toward the star, losing mass and cohesion with every punch thrown. She felt a tugging at her chest, close to the gravity well. It felt like a lasso had wrapped around her, slowly dragging her to the star. She gave a final wild swing and forced the entire flare to dissipate in a bright flash. It let off such a concussive force that it managed to push her free from the gravity well and send her back toward the photosphere.
Her knuckles burned and ached like no one’s business, but she ignored it as best she could. She frantically searched for the collection device she had accidentally released when she got hit. She was still somewhat disoriented, but at least she could tell the star was in front of her while the vacuum of space lay behind her. There, she thought. Falling toward the sun. The device was tumbling end over end while the now-filled bag stiffly followed the formation awkwardly.
Corina sighed. The last thing she wanted was to go back down there. But in that tumbling machine, Corina saw Roxanne, and the decision was easy. She gave a push mentally and propelled herself toward it. Gently, the invisible hands of gravity chomped at the bit and clawed at her. Seconds passed that felt like minutes while she inched closer. Corina outstretched her hand, the now bare knuckles partially frozen by the cold of space; it ached just to spread her finger out.
Closer now, the device continued to spin. The bag rose toward Corina, and she opted to grab it and turned back to face the void. The silhouette of the serpent machine loomed large back there. The snake head was egg-shaped and ended at a point; the main view screen on the front looked like one giant glowing red eye. The grooves in its fleshy metal made it look like jagged teeth, and the sight of this monstrosity nearly caused her heart to skip a beat.
Are you alright?
“Headed back,” she breathed through the COMM. While no longer caught in the well, gravity was still a factor and caused her to drag. It took every ounce of effort from her to keep pushing away from the star. It often felt like she wasn’t making any progress; it was so thick. But the more she pressed, the less friction she felt, so she continued on. She’d brought the device closer to her chest and cradled it like a baby.
Through gritted teeth and painful grunts, she pushed on. A final gasp of gravity clung to her ankles like a pair of hands. She felt like she was getting stretched. Finally, with a scream, she broke free. She cut through the vacuum like a bullet at this point and just let herself float toward the machine. She was breathing heavily and exhausted, and she couldn’t must up the energy to lift her head.
The machine's shadow washed over her as she got closer, and she finally willed herself to look up. She glided past the front and aimed herself toward the still-open air lock. Corina felt her speed pick up as she got closer, as if the machine had a gravity of its own. Finally, she staggered through and landed on the floor in a horizontal roll; she’s had more graceful landings. However, the feeling of being back on the ship had forced that invisible hand clutching at her heart to let go finally. Finally, she could relax. She lay there splayed on the floor, catching her breath, thinking: Roxanne better appreciate this.
***
“That was insane,” Sam was practically out of breath. Corina was back on the bridge, having her hands looked at by some machine; they hurt like hell. “Like seriously, holy crap. You fell into a neutron star!”
“Calm down.” A small metal arm emerged from the robot, a box-shaped thing that walked on four telescoping legs. It was perched over her and dipped its main body to look closer at her knuckles. They were flash-frozen and brittle but still sturdy enough that they weren’t in danger of falling off. That was the real miracle to her, surviving having parts of her body exposed to the cold vastness of space. Still, it wasn’t worth quibbling about; if only she had brought her recorder. She brushed the thought away; it wouldn’t have survived.
She winced as the metal arm gently poked her right index knuckle with the sensor on the tip. It resembled a metal pole with gears at three different points to allow for bending and twisting. At the end was a round metal ball with various instruments on the back of it. The one currently in use was a diagnostic tool; it was shaped like a Christmas light and had a blue tip at the end of it that glowed.
“So, how’d you do it?” She heard Sam ask.
She shrugged. People always asked that, and she always had the same answer: “It’s just what I do.”
“You never get curious about how it all works?”
“Sometimes.”
“You should.” He said. “I mean, once I did, it helped me two-fold.”
“Made you a more efficient killer, eh?” She regretted it immediately. “Sorry, uncalled for.”
Sam rolled his eyes and watched the doc work. The diagnostic tool receded into the metal ball, which spun around slightly before another tool emerged. Corina couldn’t tell what this one was, but it sprayed a substance on her knuckles. It felt like her nerve endings had come alive instantly. Somehow, it was “thawing” her out.
She looked at The Urgineer, again out of his chair and working on the device she had requested. Nothing was readily apparent; he just swiped at screens, pushed buttons, and turned knobs on his console. When she returned, he took the collector off her and walked to another section of the ship. When he returned, he had said that he had placed the matter into his forge and that the real work would now begin.
“You built this?” She asked him, indicating the AutoDoc, which was the name he had given it.
“Yes,” and he offered nothing else more. Corina turned to watch the doc again. It was doing more than just thawing her knuckles and hands. The tool had stopped spraying the substance and now emitted a pencil-thin blue light. It was rebuilding the nerves and muscles she had lost out in the black. The laser flew across her knuckles and restored them bit by bit. Once finished, the machine moved onto the back of her hand. It was a strange sensation that felt like a tuning fork had collided with her bones. It made her toes and lip curl every time it made a pass.
“Hurts?” Sam asked her, and she emphatically shook her head. Hurt was the wrong word for it, in her opinion. It wasn’t even painful; it was just weird. The laser finished its work soon after; Corina brought both hands up and examined them. They looked good as new, maybe too new. The grooves, creases, and wrinkles usually present were all smoothed over. It looked off to her compared to the rest of her hand. She hated it but was thankful. Corina opened and closed both hands wide, spread out each finger as far as they would go, and, satisfied, she got up from the stool.
“The devices are almost ready,” The Urgineer let her know. She nodded and stretched a bit, raising her arms high over her head. She took her left hand, placed it on her right back elbow, and pulled; there was a satisfying pop. She felt, again, just weird. As if the gravity had lengthened her by mere inches, but that was the best she could do to put the finger on it.
“We’ll need a ship,” she finally said after switching hands.
“I will take you,” he replied, not bothering to raise his head.
Corina put a hand on her hip and motioned toward Sam with the other. He was still leaning against the table she had been at; the AutoDoc hovered near him suspiciously. “I appreciate that, but what about him? He doesn’t have to go—hell, he probably doesn’t want to go.”
Sam looked up, “I’d go.”
Corina turned to face him, and she scrunched her eyebrows, confused. “Why would you want to? You hate my guts.”
Sam rolled his eyes at her. “I don’t hate you,” he sneered. “And not everything is about you.”
“I told the boy I’d build him what he wanted if he went.”
Corina cocked an eyebrow, “Oh?” Sam shrugged and said nothing else as if her question didn’t imply the necessity for more context. So she said it out right: “Build what?”
“A cure,” The Urgineer answered. “For his condition.”
Corina tilted her head to the right when she glared at Sam. “Excuse me, ’His condition’?” She asked.
Sam glanced up at her briefly but kept his gaze lowered. He pursed his lips and lowered his eyebrows. He wore that scowl like a fancy new hat and looked back at her, “Well?” He shrugged, irritated. “Got something to say?”
Corina just looked at him and studied his face. His face was so smooth she kept forgetting how young he was. Sam’s head was in a skull cap connected to his suit; it stretched his face out, calling attention to his big youthful cheeks. She sighed.
“No.” She crossed her arms and took a deep breath. “Do whatever you want.” He looked back down at the floor and shrugged again, but at least his expression softened. She turned to the Urgineer and asked him: “When do we go?”
“We already have.” And that was when she noticed the neutron star had receded in the distance. It was little more than a blue bowling ball now, a far cry from the hell scape she’d just witnessed firsthand. She closed one eye and held her thumb and forefinger in front of her face; she flicked it away.