12 Miles Below

- Seven hours ago -

I turned the power off.

The environmental suit objected, of course. Loudly, full of opinions. Effects were immediate with each breath colder than the last. The chill wrapped around my throat, tenderly squeezing it shut.

Today it was twenty-two breaths. Twenty-two breaths before the cold breached the suit’s system and it was too painful to keep breathing. Yesterday was twenty. A slight improvement.

I flicked the power back on. The internal air re-heated to tolerable levels while I held my breath. Anarii had been right of course, just about one minute each time I tested it. The siren shut down soon after, sulking away.

She’ll have noticed my suit flatlining for a moment. All I needed to do now was wait until she came to check up on me.

“All scavengers, half hour until expedition departure. Wrap it up people, we’re on a clock!” A voice crackled in over the wide area comms. That was a little earlier than I’d expected, it might not be enough time for my plan to get done.

Around me, the white wastes stretched around, a flat surface broken up by the ruins stretching a mile around us. They say it was once supposed to be an ocean, maybe a few thousand years ago.

Bundled up figures, half covered in ice, trawled around, wrapping up their last tasks before returning to the expedition rest stop. One of them was rapidly approaching me.

The only identifying mark was the blood red family sigil on her clothing’s shoulders. The same one I had. My dear elder sister, ever vigilant that her younger brother isn’t up to anything stupid. Again.

Black reflecting goggles obscured her face. But if I could see Kidra’s eyes through all that gear, I'd imagine they would be mildly pissed with me as usual. “You need to cut this out." She said. "Each time I see your vitals drop like that… What happens if it’s real, and that’s the day I don’t come to check?”

I waved away her question, "Eh, I'd say I got what was coming to me, and ask how much to put that on my tombstone. But... since you happened to be here, lend me a hand real quick?"

She groaned and climbed up the rubble to reach me. Near my feet, recently cleared of snow and rubble, was an intact metal trapdoor. The only problem was the oversized piece of wall that had crumbled down on top.

Kidra understood the conundrum instantly. Trapdoors and scavengers were a marriage made in heaven. I wanted to get in and the wall was being a dick about it.

“Three guesses about what I need your help for,” I told her, waving at the obstructing rubble. “And the first two don't count."

“Fine.” Kidra hissed, drawing out her occult knife. “I'll cut your little rock issue out of the way, but no more nonsense like this. At least for the week, please."

"I promise we'll discuss it."

She gave her answer as a raised gesture on her free hand. This one signified a... graciously accepted defeat, if my hand sign language was still current.

Kidra inspected the intact wall up close, planning out how she’d start the cuts. With a good starting point picked out, the edge of her expensive knife lit up in a beautiful blue glow. Then she sliced into the rock, the blade scything through the material with ease. I had a theory that it wasn’t actually magic, but occult stuff felt… different from tech. As far as we could tell, that dagger was just a slab of metal with electricity going through it. How it could cut things was anyone’s guess.

Chunks of concrete fell to the side, which I diligently grabbed and tossed away. It was slow work since she cut chunks small enough for me to clean up, but we made steady progress.

“Some days I wonder if I should just sell the blade.” Kidra said, “That way you’ll stop pestering me each time like this."

“Come now, dear sister. You secretly love any chance to use it.”

“Ratcrap.” Kidra viciously cut out a much larger stone. Once done, she turned and waved her knife in my direction. “You simply live to annoy me.”

“I have absolutely no clue where you got that idea.”

"That’s rather bold coming from someone within stabbing range." That knife waggled ever closer.

“See? You do love any chance to use it.”

Kidra sighed, giving up. “Shouldn't you be gathering frostbloom right now? Why are you prowling around for scrap? You’ll get yelled at when Father finds out."

I struggled, lifting up the enormous chunk she’d cut a moment ago. “You know why.”

When I was thirteen, I got my hands on a book from the third era. It described the start of a vast and powerful invention - a network that linked everyone together. They called it the internet. It’s all gone now, of course. But the way I saw it, if humanity had done it once, then we could do it again.

“Don’t you think it’s time to give up?” Kidra asked.

“Nope." I said, finally done with the chunk. "Time is just a tiny price to pay for the potential payoff. And I’ve only been able to look within a few hundred miles of the habitat. This time, we're going way farther. Anything could be out there.”

“What are you searching for now? Didn’t you tell me you found high insulation cables in the clan printing library?”

“That idea didn’t age too well.” I confessed sheepishly. Thought I'd been so clever with that solution. Just put down a few hundred miles of printed wires. That'll do the trick, I thought. What could possibly go wrong with that plan?

Kidra caught on. “It’s the pirates and slavers roaming around that are the problem, isn’t it?”

“Bingo. Anarii told me it had already been tried out before. Someone or another eventually will cut the cables because assholes are part of the human condition.”

My journal had plenty of directions scribbled out besides the wire idea, but each ended up infeasible. Best direction was long range wireless signals, but nobody knew enough about antennas to increase their range. Our best schematics had a maximum range of a few miles.

Maybe if we worked all together for once and shared knowledge instead of guarding it jealously, we could escape this rat trap of a life. The internet could jump start that process. Human greed would do the rest, as those that did share with one another rose past those who hadn’t.

Kidra pointed at my basket again. “This is all very interesting,” She lied, “And I can’t help but notice your basket hasn’t increased in size yet. Why exactly are you trying to open a trapdoor? I suspect that greed of yours is whispering pretty things in your ear again.”

“Do you ever wonder who lived here?” I masterfully shifted the topic.

Kidra played ball with my deflection, examining the few visible ruins in between her work with the wall. This entire site was one huge cemetery, filled with ruined structures as headstones.

Thousands had lived here, once.

“For these people, they likely lived well. Until someone decided they shouldn’t.” Kidra shrugged, pointing at specific parts of the rubble. “Do you see how the concrete’s been pulverized in sections? Explosions. As you would put it, the 'human condition' made a visit here.”

Hadn’t even considered how they’d died. Just another reason I’m not supposed to be a soldier, can’t even properly think like one.

I set the last chunk of sliced off wall down, wiping the frost off of it, a deep blue color timidly appearing under. “Look at that,” I pointed out, “They even colored it. Can you imagine that? Painting an entire random wall?”

It was a ridiculous question in the first place. Who would want to waste valuable paint on a wall of all things? My sister didn’t reply, probably waiting for me to answer.

The math was simple for this problem, a quick estimation of the original dimensions multiplied by how much paint needed for one square foot and I had my answer in seconds. “I’d predict you'd need around four hundred and eighty vials of paint for just this one section.”

“That can’t be correct.” She said, trying to count something on her hands. “That should be more paint than.. two months of trading? If my mathematics is correct.”

I laughed, proud that she’d remembered some of my lessons. “You could always come down to the hangars and get a calculator from the local engineers. I’m sure they’d give you one, if you asked nicely with your rifle.”

She shook her head, not as interested in engineering as I was. “I can’t split my focus. My duty as a knight retainer is more important to upkeep. ”

“Peh.” I shrugged. “I’ve been ignoring that my entire life, and nobody’s bitten my head off.”

She stayed silent at that, staring out into the distance. Kidra always grew quiet when thoughts of family were on her mind. I could take a guess at who she’d immediately thought of, and I was thankful she hadn’t brought him up.

Ahead, scavengers were slowly making their way through the rest of the ice and rubble. There weren't any standards, everyone wore whatever we could find or afford. Weaves of brown, grey and the occasional splash of expensive color to separate each. Hodgepodge helmets of different types and shapes, with scraps of armor pilfered over time. If it kept you from dying, it was good enough.

Most undersiders think it’s frostbite that kills up here. It is, after all, the first and most obvious thing to come to mind. But it’s science that does the killing. After a certain temperature, water is practically all condensed into snow or ice. Air up here is far drier than the delicate membranes in your throat, nose and lungs. A single breath is a death sentence. Even if you find shelter from the environment immediately after one breath, you will still die on a sickbed days later.

“They must have been quite wealthy to get all this paint." Kidra said, deflecting away from our previous topic. "This could have been a center of trade once, or maybe a -” The comms clicked and a man’s voice sounded from it, someone we both knew and feared.

“Keith, Kidra. We’re on the move in ten minutes. Do not be the last ones back.” It clicked shut right after. No reply expected, only obedience. Father was like that.

My sister spun on her heels, already taking steps back to camp.

"Hang on a moment!" I shouted behind her, "We're almost done with the wall, just a few more cuts and the door's free!"

“He will not be happy.” She muttered, pausing in her steps.

“When is he ever happy? He’ll kick the bucket before anyone catches him smiling.”

“I... I wish you didn’t have a point.” Kidra sighed. "But we should still make our way back to the convoy. I doubt there’s anything worthwhile under that trapdoor."

“Relax, we’re close enough. We’ll make it on time.”

“It’s not the convoy I’m worried about,” She glanced over at my mostly empty basket of frostbloom.

“I got unlucky.” I lied.

“Are you trying to sell me a box of snow? You know you are the one in deep… problems, right?” Kidra said. “Why am I the one stressing out about it? He’s going to strangle you if you come back with only... this.” She pointed at the basket.

She’s right about that, it worried me. Far more than I wanted her to know. If this dig didn’t pan out, I really would be deep in the ratshit. I’d made a bet that there’d be something worthwhile underground I could leverage. But she didn’t need to know the payoff chances I’d guessed at.

“No worries." I said, instead of confessing my fears. “See, I’ve got a clever backup plan. There’s a guy I know that can sell you premium fortune cookies...”

That finally made her laugh, the little inside joke between us digging down as deep as I’d hoped. It could have been my imagination, but I think some of the tension finally lifted from her shoulders. Only one of us should be worried about my problems, and I intended for that to be me.

Maybe it was a little bit in bad taste to constantly make fun of that poor trader, who’d tried so hard to sell us those fortune cookies. But it was for a good cause. He’d understand. And then ask to be paid for it somehow, knowing him.

Kidra jogged the rest of the way back up the rubble, ready to dig out some basement secrets with me.

She thought this had been a trade hub. Filled up with fat cats living the good life. Selling fortune cookies to anyone gullible enough. But I wasn’t as convinced.

They’d hadn’t been rich at all, I thought instead. They wouldn’t be here on the surface if they were.

My guess is that these poor souls had rediscovered rare files or even a fully working chemical printer to create materials like paint. They'd only lacked the common sense to hide that discovery. And so, inevitably, the human condition came to collect.

Maybe, it missed a spot.