“Nyctophobia is the irrational fear of the dark. But what is the rational fear of the dark?
Is it common sense? Not being able to see is terrifying and many of the creatures that can move in the dark are usually not something a person wants to run into in the dark.
To those who consider themselves nocturnal, those who are more awake in the later hours of the day and feel comfortable without the standard lighting, are you scared?
Do you tread in the parks and dark recesses without something to light your way? Do you feel safe in the shadows?
Even the most hardened criminal and cutthroat is only comfortable when they believe they are the scariest thing in the shadowy alley. They aren’t.
Death awaits in shadows from things that cannot prey in the light.“
* Excerpt from “Why the Lights need to be on.” New Boston Best Seller, 2043.
***
Darkness floods the space from the north and in a split second I am only illuminated by the small light on my head. The sound of all the lights and wires falling still is almost deafening, the cascading silence robs the air of the familiar sounds I was accustomed to.
Sweeping the corridor with my small penlight I see the forms of the wires, cables, and electronic panels all still. I find it eerie as the small hums of the running electricity are absent, like the world around me was holding its breath.
This never happens.
We have never had an outage on this scale in the last ten years.
I glance from the south to the north. It feels like someone is watching me. I don’t like it. I step forward to the north where the feeling is and I hear the clank of my footfall echo across the silent service tunnel, the sound fading into the depths of the shadows.
Shadows painted the enclosed space and I was careful. The temperature also dropped, the massive amount of power surging through this space kept the temperature balmy but now it was crisp.
I saw my breath illuminated by the small headlamp as a cloud.
Scratch crisp, it was glacial. Frick!
I needed to move. I moved forward, the clamor of my stride filled the belt as I wound my way to where I suspected the outage occurred.
The biting cold was unpleasant to my exposed skin. Fortunately that wasn’t much of my body but my extremities still were feeling it the worse.
Something about being in the dark, cold, clanging environment set me off, in a feeling of eerie uncertainty and confusion. While my headlamp did reveal what was hidden, the shadows weaved as if they were living. The vines crowding the overhead seemed to be hiding something sinister and deadly.
Shaking I had to remind myself that nothing was supposed to be down here to begin with. It hadn’t even been an hour since the power outage, how would a monster get down here that fast?
Pushing my fears aside as I deemed them irrational and one must stay rational in times of disaster and a power outage in a place that its lifeblood is electricity. Many systems without power would crumble, literally. Some are only supported through the current pulsing through them or are heated or cooled electronically.
It was strange to see the LEDs unblinking, just awaiting life.
The journey further up the belt was punctuated by the eerie sounds of creaking metal as surfaces cooled and constricted for the first time in years. Besides the repairs the technicians made, nothing went without power for long.
It was like being in a dead body, familiar yet alien and terrifying. If not dead then dying.
Passing my hand across another surface I found more of the dark coating that was on the node I was repairing. Strange.
It was hard to gauge how long I’ve moved north, where the cascade started, my feet hurt from the extra effort and mileage I am placing on them.
I heard something else ahead.
Slowing I carefully proceeded to where the belt interceded with another belt making a junction of sorts that held the power junction.
A curved flattened x shaped room with four entrances held the main power cabling that would either be the cause of this blackout or give an indication of where to look next.
I entered the room, stepping over a thick groove set in the floor covered in hazard tape. The door was nowhere to be seen. I guess they only opted for security barriers rather than standard hatches.
The room itself was warmer due to the mass of people here. Not warm per se but not as frigid. Usually such a group would make the space feel stifling. I guess in emergencies, such crowding could be pleasant.
I saw multiple lights shining from atop other Electrical Technicians. Even one from another corporation, the Falter 3 Inc. Yellow standing out in the gray-blues of the RuCorp technicians.
I recognized a few by the placement of their equipment. Everyone had their headlamps or pen lights on their heads but I could see Josselyn Chelsea’s toolkit strapped to the small of her back, her tablet secured across her chest like an electronic breastplate.
Benor Dossi had everything angled, like having a V shape across his waist actually helped control the weight distribution.
Menet Corden had an identical alignment of equipment as my own, the most common in all honesty. Tool in a utility belt, the heaviest positioned on the small of the back while the lighter are to the front, the tablet was strapped to their right leg, clipped on the belt and a lower belt around the leg to secure it.
Without the second belt it kept slapping the leg when you walked or ran.
I recognized a few from other assignments like Dossi, Chelsea, and Corden. The three always like the quiet repair jobs and I wasn’t surprised to see them all on the outskirts waiting for the loud group crowding the junction box to reach a conclusion.
I swerved their way.
“Salut!” I said, entering their small space set away from the other milling technicians.
“Salut!” they chorused, turning my way. As I entered their space I started rubbing my hands together for the friction to warm my extremities. I had to wait for them to call to me, because I forgot which false identity I gave them.
Chelsea was the first one to recognize me and call out, “You lil’ kite, Meghora, it's been a while!” she said, her light voice shaded a bit of 7th floor twang, reaching a hand out to shake.
Chelsea was just a head shorter than me but her force of personality made her feel larger than life at times. She brushed a few stray strands of auburn hair out of her face and grinned.
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Ah Meghora, one of my earliest false identities…not one of my best. Sounds like I was on the Mesh. Wait. It was one of my Mesh identities now that I think of it, one I used to play more social games.
Sliding into the persona of Meghora I relaxed my shoulders and shook her hand.
“Still in the Greenglade, Chelsea?” I say, turning to shake the hands of Dossi and Corden.
Benor Dossi towered over me, he felt over 200 cm but surely he wasn’t. His head wasn’t scraping along the ceiling here, although I believe that was mainly because it was a larger space.
Menet Corden on the other hand, was around my height which helped my average looking technician appearance. If everyone was taller or shorter than myself, I would be the odd one out.
“Pshh, I moved house eons ago, Hora. In Menet’s housing block.” Chelsea said, pulling a picture out of her wallet and handing it over. “You might not see it in here light but it's got actual greens ‘bout it.”
“No way” I said in mock disbelief, “on 7th? How’d you snag something with real plants? Or is it just heavy mold?”
Corden chimed in at that, their thick 7th accent clear that they’ve lived there all their life. “Never been too much traffic in Char’s End,” Corden making a winding gesture with an arm, “In a labyrinth of alleys. Joss ‘ere got lost for the first three months heading home.”
Laughing in good humor, “Only because the Iridium Gang kept changing the graffiti” Chelsea threw in.
All chuckling to ourselves, Dossi then asked, voice without the 7th floor twang. “Where ya at? Don’t recon the accent, Hora”
I was about to respond when Chelsea responded, “You're looking at a 5th floor Darkling, Benor.” At that Dossi stared for a moment, in awe. I didn’t make eye contact, wary because of what happened with Maris earlier this morning.
I actually lived on the 4th floor but admitting that would make me a social outcast, no one wanted to live on a lower floor, 5th was stretching already.
Shaking my head I reply, “I could always rely on yer memory, Josselyn.” I elongated her name making it sound like Joss Sell Lynn, to try to hide my actual accent.
Hard to blend in with the 7th floor when I was raised and worked nearly ten floors above that. A past I most desperately avoided bringing up.
“What are you doing down there?” Dossi asked in disbelief, “Got some vice keeping the money short?”
I raised my hands in defeat.
“I knew it!” Corden threw in, “I could easily be on the 6th floor with half what I pay in rent.”
“And spend the extra money on Nose Sugar?” Chelsea said, rolling her eyes. “You know sometimes people are saving money to apply for a promotion.” With that she glared at us.
I almost met her gaze, just to prove that I wasn’t afraid and that I knew she was joking.
The others didn’t and looked away shameface, Dossi even going so far as rubbing his neck.
At Chelsea’s laughter they turned back, chagrined. “Could you imagine…” She said, through fits of laughter, “Spending it on bribes for the bitches in HR?”
The others and I chuckled.
“I think the only one that is saving money is Maghora here, no way you have this salary and run out on the 5th floor.” Chelsea said after reeling in her laughter.
Shrugging, I tried to move the conversation away from me and toward something everyone had interesting in. “Did ya ‘ear ‘bout Bluerisk? Fired this morning.”
“Who?” Chelsea and Corden asked at the same time.
“Maris Bluerisk? Wasn’t he in that section?” Dossi asked, pointing the way I came.
I nodded, trying to remember how to gossip. I had eavesdropped hundreds of times in person, on the net, and even in Mesh space but I rarely started it.
“That’s the one.” I said, pointing to Benor.
“Why would Maris go? Got a pretty clean record compared to others.” Corden said, looking toward the mass of other technicians in the center of the room. “Surely they would’ve tossed Brickbiller.”
“No way they could fire Brickbiller, his father is a manager.” Chelsea said.
“Budget cuts? Surely if they wanted to save money they would find a different department to reduce.” Dossi said, scratching his head.
I added a little bit more fuel to the fire by adding, “I think Benelli was Bluerisk’s manager.”
“That swine!” Dossi said, anger rising in his voice. At the same time both Chelsea and Corden screamed, “MOTHERFUCKER!” with varying degrees of twang.
I let them rant and ponder as I watched, but soon Dossi gave up the musings of the worker and set back my way.
“They’ll be at it for a while now that you’ve started them” He said.
I nodded then asked, “I n’er got your floor.”
I had noticed that his accent was less pronounced than the others. Also the vocabulary was vastly different from Chelsea or Corden. I knew Chelsea was from eight but after the recession a couple of years ago, many had to drop a floor or two.
“Would you believe tenth?” He said.
I nodded, sounds about right. Not quite the pompous tones of the teens nor the sophistication of the twenties. Only the super-rich lived on the 20+ floors. Their servants lived nearby on islands of middle class in the richness of the upper floors
The industrial wastes of the lower floors were toxic to live near and the rich believed the best place was near the top, but not the actual top floor, that was a military facility to prevent the outside world from entering unannounced.
“Recession?” I asked.
“Nah, I could stay with my parents if I really wanted, but the life here is something hard to explain to those who live in double digits. They never see behind the wall panels. Never think about who’s maintaining the infrastructure. I left that place because they never believed it was a worthy career. Or a worthy career for a partner.” Dossi said, ending with a sigh.
I hesitantly placed a hand on his back. I wasn’t one for human contact but… I knew the others here did like to know that someone cared.
After a moment I pulled my hand back and asked. “You think all the bodies in here are warming the room up?”
Dossi nodded. “Think so, I haven’t shivered for a bit but… I am still not comfortable.”
I laughed at that. ‘I agree. If you don’t mind, I want to know the cause of this blackout and solve it.”
Dossi waved me off and walked back to join Chelsea and Corden’s discussion on best revenge on HR and RuCorp in general.
I continued to the middle of the room where a crowd surrounded the open panel of the main circuit board that was connected to the main power cord.
I could’ve waited for the group to dissipate or solve the problem on their own but…
I wasn’t as patient as the others on the outskirts.
The crowd consisted of what looked like fourteen technicians inspecting the main circuit board and scratching their heads. As I moved closer I caught their discussion as it turned into an argument.
“-do we burn it off?”
“And how would we do that Brickbiller?”
“Lay off him Fowl, we are all here for the same reason.” A calmer voice exclaimed broken shortly after by confusion “What the fuck is this shit?”
“Who knows, maybe it was something Darksphere Inc. concocted? Or it could be the remnants of what is grown in the Veggie-Vats?”
“Urgi, why does it always connect to Darksphere Inc. with you?”
“Because I do my research, Bremmin!”
“Shut up Urgi!”
“It does look like a root of some kind.” The last one that spoke had every other technician looking at him.
“What?” he exclaimed, waving his scrawny arms around trying to hold his credibility. “I’ve been to a fancy place for a date and they served these orange root veggies that were slightly sweet.”
Shaking my head I focused back on the junction as others teased the older technician about his dating life.
It had a dark substance covering it. First I was afraid of rust or something corrupting the grid and needing completely new parts but it did look like a strange clumps of roots hugging the circuits to grow off the electricity.
I didn’t like being so intimate with the people around but the repair took precedence. Sucking in a breath I pushed to the front, using the cap to conceal more of my face while I inspected the gunk.
Honestly that was probably the most technical term for it, as all access to the internet died with the power outage, naturally.
We had to use what we had downloaded or use our heads. Glancing around the room for a moment I sighed. More like head, I was sure there was another competent technician but this was closer to an engineer level problem.
I didn’t see anyone with the stripes of an engineer so I turned back to the gunk choking the circuitry. Pulling a knife I poked it first. It was strangely hard, for something that looked like it should be pulsing goo. The dark green material had small variations of rings in a lighter shade spanning the length of the infestation.
Lightly scraping had no effect so I tried a deliberate cut near the edge without any chance of electronic crossfire. I didn’t want to break it while repairing it.
The cut took a lot of effort but in the end I had a v shaped cut and a piece pulled away to inspect. It had a strange cable-like structure, but made of a foreign material…it was a natural feeling. Something biological, the wound actually released a substance, a liquid of sorts. Could it be a vine, like a natural vine from a plant?
The puzzling nature of the thing was the…nature part.
Almost no one actually interacts with plants but thinking back to A Waiting Dream the strange feeling I had in the garden was present here.
It must be a plant.
I was still inspecting it when I was illuminated by multiple beams of light. The others finally stopped bickering long enough to notice another in their midsts that had actually done something.
Tossing the chip of the plant back I made another incision hoping to distract them with their own samples while I could slip away from their attention.
Go away! I thought at them. Look, a veggie! Now leave me be!
Their light beams did diverge and I was left in relative darkness. The background squabble was back in session and it sounded like Brickbiller was trying to burn it with his illegal lighter.
It was strange that being in darkness with only my own headlamp was more comfortable than others watching when I was just terrified of being alone.
I guess I only want these people around when they are not…peopling. I shuddered, I hate groups.
I proceeded to carve away at the edges of the plant, tossing bits behind me and focusing on the plant's connection to the power grid. They did stem from around the resistors, where the board was probably the hottest while active.
Were they attracted to the heat? Grow from it? If so….how do they get here to begin with? This is a sealed unit, I would assume that it was airtight before these bozos got here. Pausing the cutting for a second I ran my hand along the side of the casing and turned it over.
More of the dark grime. Loads of it. Likely that it came from over here or perhaps the plant itself.
Where have I seen this coloration? Something about it was itching the back of my head, a feeling of urgency and importance but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
While I pondered, the technicians continued their discussion.
“It's a plant, wow I guess Reagen really did have that date.”
“Why does no one believe me about that?”
“Because Reagen…you’re you.”
“What is that supposed to mean, Bremmin? Hey don’t just start nodding Urgi!”
And so on behind me as background noise, their beams of light swinging around the room as they turned to face who was talking, like a terrible low budget lightshow.
Why are plant facts important and urgent? I scratched under the respirator for a second considering this feeling I have.
Allergies are pretty important and urgent. Knowing what will kill you is really urgent, especially when you are handling it. But…I am not allergic to plants, I’ve been tested so I could receive the lowest cost meals without any medical issues.
What else is urgent about alien plants…
Oh fuck...