Chapter Six: Fragmented

  Now that I had a moment to really take it all in, I find the air out here is thick with an acrid, ionic scent of burning metal. The low groans of the… Well, the spaceship I guess, twisting under an unknowable strain is really helping to set the mood. Ok… so I’m on some sort of colony ship, and we are right about to experience an unscheduled landing…. And I had just broken out of the “crash-proof” pod which was designed to protect me from such things. It takes me a moment to remember to breathe as thoughts bounce around my skull… OK seriously, where the hell am I? Is this really the evolution server? This was not how I pictured starting my NewU experience.

  I grimace, sucking air through my teeth as my leg spikes with pain. I close my eyes and let those thoughts rage about, instead, I focus on the feeling of my breath. I learned this exercise long ago, it being a quick way to recenter and lower my heart rate. After a moment of forced calm I slap my cheeks twice with both hands, the goo squelching with each hit, the sting wakes me up to my new reality.

  I carefully fall out of the pod, only receiving a few new scratches for my effort and try to get to my feet, only to quickly discover a new and wonderful fact about the slime! It totally eliminates friction. I must still be in shock, because the novelty of my situation makes me giggle, helping to dull my embarrassment as I, totally naked and covered in goo, slip, slide, and sometimes worm my way towards the lone door in the room.

  Stupidly, even though the circular wall is only a few meters away, it actually takes me several minutes to squidge my way over there, leaving a lovely snail trail behind me. Finally, I am standing, well, leaning, well, desperately gripping onto the wall. As I do a funky dance trying to keep my balance and not to fall, an electronic chime clangs in the air, managing to ring out clearly even over the continuous Cthulian gnashing of metals and the accursed alarm. The same voice from the repeating message, begins speaking, sounding for all the world as if it is reading from a maintenance manual, but this time it was saying something new, "Pod malfunction detected in colonist bay 13, movement recorded, colonist 01424 - Leod J. Faedyn: Status - Mortal Danger. Emergency subroutine - ‘Fracture’ initiated. Good luck Colonist.``

  A brief moment passes, then the voice speaks again, still using the same tone but now sounding a lot more personable, it says, “Hello Leod! I am Fragment, an instanced fraction of S.S. Endymion’s Artificial S.O.U.L. My task is to guide you to the nearest shuttle bay and aid in your immediate departure from the ship.” As the quirky AI speaks, a small drawer extends out from what a moment ago had been a seamless wall. I grasp onto it and slide myself over so I can look Inside. Within I find a very high quality, delightfully durable, stormy ocean blue utility towel. I take a moment to enjoy the bold dark green stitching around its edges. I immediately sit down and clean off my feet, then the rest of me, being very careful to leave the slime intact on my bad leg. The towel ends up pretty heavy with the slime by the time I am done. I nod happily and say, “Thank you towel,” while appreciating its absorbency.

  Now that I can stand without skating, I am able to get a better view inside in the drawer, I find a pristine and nicely folded space suit along with a rather bulky looking helmet. I marvel at the design as I pick up the suit. It has a honeycomb/dragon scale pattern which was just choice. As I begin to put it on I find that the color is somehow not constant, shifting between orange and a grey blue that matches the towel. Putting on the suit is interesting enough that I manage to forget my pain as I can’t help chuckling each time I find a new pocket. The thing was covered in them, there were even a bunch hidden in the inner lining. Fragment lets out a digital cough, reminding me that we were actually in a bit of a hurry, I blush and grin as I zip up the suit.

  Once the suit is on, it automatically adjusts itself to my body, fitting me perfectly. The suit is even cooler than I thought, having some controls and readout lights along the sleeves which I would have to figure out later. The damn thing was utterly comfortable and once it was done re-fitting, totally seamless. Fragment speaks up again as I finish watching the suit resize itself, “Unfortunately, given the state of the ship, the helmet will likely slow down your progress too much, Leod, but don’t forget the glasses.”

  I look again and see a small obsidian box in the corner of the drawer, the box is heavy in the way that all things quality always are. I open it and see a pair of glasses that match the suit perfectly in style, being both techy and classic in form. I grin, feeling a sense of brotherhood with whoever made this design choice. As a bald guy, wait, I reach up to my head, and yup, still bald as can be, ah well… anyway, as a bald guy I have a special relationship with glasses, them being one of the few accessories which I allowed myself. In the past I had even passed up corrective surgeries in favor of keeping the look. People just look better with glasses, I nod to myself.

  As I put on the glasses I feel the warm sensation of being reunited with a soulmate. The moment I let go of the frame it begins to resize itself, I could just barely make out the clicking and ticking of the clocklike assembly over the alarm as it adjusts. Once the glasses finish changing, now a bit larger, framing my face better and providing perfect coverage, an overlay interface pops up in front of me. The UI is immediately familiar to me: it has an area for messages, a live updating mini-map of the area, and even an intranet to interact with. Oh I love this, it’s so sleek, and the icons are immediately understandable, whoever designed this UI was definitely a gamer!

  As soon as the boot up is complete however, I am overwhelmed by pop-up tutorials and help messages which totally block my view of the world. I try to close them but can’t figure out exactly what they want from me first, so I start frantically waving my arms trying to find a way to close the windows. Fragment’s voice speaks up, now clearly in my ear rather than through the ship's speakers, “It is advisable that you get to the shuttle bay as quickly as possible, Leod.” I can barely make out the bright orange line that is now flowing beneath my feet and out the door. I think the mini map is updated with it as well, but the ship's regulations are demanding my attention and blocking my view.

  At the same time, a countdown timer appears in the bottom-right corner of my vision, which currently reads 19:34 and is ticking down... These smeging windows won’t close unless I read through the attached agreements! The tutorials are unskippable! In desperation I ask Fragment, “Uh, Fragment, could you please kill the tutorials? I can’t see a damn thing!” In an instant the interface clears, and I can now see the guideline leading me towards safety.

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  I was about to start running, the timer really taking up my focus, but a gut feeling hits me, so I stop, grab the towel which is still wet with slime, and tie it around my waist. Now turning to leave, a thudding noise suddenly catches my attention, I take a moment to try and find its source. The sound is coming from one of the other pods, and from my new upright angle I can actually make out all the people who were still sealed in their pods…

  Some were thrashing around, their facial features being highlighted by my new glasses, making the scene a surreal masquerade of fear. I take a quick breath as I process all of the faces, each now awake, most seeming confused or dazed, some twisted and helpless, others holding themselves in fetal positions, and one was clawing at the glass, trying to escape like I had. Frak! Should I try to save them? The computer said to stay in the pods… they are supposedly way safer than me right now. Damnit, I would have wanted someone to save me though.

  My skin tries to crawl away as it processes the feelings which are rolling off the trapped people, in the past I would have rejected the feelings, creating an armor of indifference or anger around my core… but hell, trying to become a psychologist I was forced to learn how to process that energy, so, I giggle instead, just a little, and wipe a few tears away. Fragment whispers to me, “They are safer in their pods, Leod, you need to leave now if you are going to make it.” The door to the outside slides open. Frag is right, it has to be, they are safer where they are, even if they don’t know it… and there just isn’t enough time to free all of them anyway. I take a deep breath, give a quick glance at the timer, now at 17:23, give a small bow to all those still trapped and wish them luck as I take my first steps into the corridor.

  The corridors on this ship are pretty big, large enough for several people to walk side by side at least, the guide arrow is pointing to the left but the ship rocks again before I am done thinking. The ground begins rippling like ocean waves, sending a twisting force of energy sweeping around me… Suddenly the metal tiles and the air itself begin to tear apart sounding like something unbreakable breaking after all. I cover my ears while screaming in agony, blood starts flowing around my fingers.

  It takes me a moment before I realize that I had collapsed, and it takes another before I manage to get standing again. My head is fuzzy, I shake my head trying to free it of the constant ringing, little sparks of light flash in front of my eyes. I reach up to clean away the blood leaking from my eyes and ears… I giggle again, at least the damn alarm is muted now, along with everything else… After clearing my eyes and wiping my hands on the towel, I notice some flashing text now floating in front of me which reads, “This way Leod!”

  The guideline has changed directions, and is now pointed down the right hallway, which, unlike the left hallway, still looked quite nice, was covered in broken pipes and wiring that had fallen through the ceiling. There was also a luminous blue liquid, which I could smell from here, some kind of old shoes and moonshine mixture, was still in the process of leaking all over the floor and was forming a large pool. A toxic symbol appeared in my view as I examined the liquid, which made me snort, as I was watching it slowly melt and vaporize anything it touched. I laugh again when I see that the guideline is actually creating an obstacle course like game to help me to get around the destruction, even showing jumping, crouching, and danger icons where appropriate.

  Before anything, I untie the towel from my waist and squeeze out some of the slime onto the tops of my exposed hands and feet, and finally, some on the top of my bald head. Then I wrap the still slime laden towel around my face, attempting to create a poor man's breathing mask. With a feeling of letting go bolstered by pure adrenaline, I whoop and throw myself at the course, following the guideline and feeling like a videogame character as I navigate the debris. I desperately hoped/prayed that the ship wouldn't shake while I was crawling under an exceptionally sharp obstacle, one that I definitely would not have fit through if I had the helmet on, and somehow manage to squeeze through to the next area safely.

  I thank Axiom when I see that the next area is still pristine as the timer blinks at the edge of my vision, now at 15:12. The corridor seems endless, and each second I am jog/hobbling down it feels like a taunt. Move faster, the timer screams at me. I push through the pain as I burst into a sprint, not thinking, just letting Fragment’s directions lead me through the labyrinthine guts of the ship. It’s all I can do to just breathe and keep my eyes on the ever flowing orange guideline as the hallways were all the same, none of it looked lived in, looking like freshly painted subway halls with color coded lines leading to different sections of the ship.

  I almost trip a few times after more bone deep vibrations ripple past me. I imagine that somewhere behind me the ship is twisting, breaking, and it is causing the ground to swim and snap under my feet as the metal strains against itself. After a decent clip Fragment stops me before I can open a door, “The atmosphere of the next corridor has been flooded by toxic chemicals, third degree burns are likely with any direct contact to exposed skin.”

  I grunt, grab the towel off my waist again and apply a fresh layer of goo to my hands and feet and head. This time I spread a little on the bottom of my feet as well, planning to lean into skating along in exchange for the protection. “Alright Frag, you’ll have to guide me.” I wrap the goo-soaked towel over my head, even covering my eyes, and before I can think about it, I take and begin to hold a deep breath and open the door. The burning hits me like a wall of fog, I can feel my skin being eaten, but I don’t stop to think about it, I hug the wall and slide forward, trusting Fragment’s guidance.

  My lungs burn but I am able to ignore that by focusing on the slow cooking and melting of my appendages. I try not to giggle or scream as I compare my situation to the path of the Kwisatz Haderach, unlike Paul though, the animal part of my brain was singing a song of praise to the almighty slime and its healing properties. Blindly wandering over and under debris while the very air tries to kill me is horrific, and I nearly black out from the effort of keeping myself from breathing.

  Finally, after the tenth or so time my inner self had said it could take no more, I get the all clear from Fragment. I rip the towel off my head and take in deep gasping breaths, the wonderful air hitting me so hard I fall to my knees. As I take a moment to steady myself, I find myself quite glad that the adrenaline-pumping urgency of my imminent death is helping me to stay in an almost constant state of shock, otherwise I am sure I would have passed out from the pain I should be in.

  Speaking of, I flex my hands in front of me, fascinated that the movement causes the newly melted and cracked skin to break in several places. The maze-like exposed flesh is red and raw and stings something special as it is exposed to the air. I take a moment to howl in pain, mostly an automatic reaction, since I couldn’t feel much right now. My world reassembles itself from the white static it had momentarily become, and I shake my head, registering the idea that I should spread slime into the cracks of my hands and feet.

  Fragment plays a little tune for me, probably at max volume, since you know, I could hear it over everything else, I appreciate its effort to help me focus as I take more than half of the remaining goo and use it to fill the new wounds. As the slime fills in the cracks, it spreads soothing waves through my body. After a moment I flex my fingers and toes, now able to use them again without causing the tears to spread. I force myself to get back on my feet and manually move my legs one step at a time. Every step forward feels like a triumph against the ship, the clock, and my own screaming body. I grit my teeth, letting out a growl, and stagger onward. I’m not dead yet, and that means there is still a chance. The timer reads 11:16.