"XX01, you have a go!"
That was me. I took a deep breath and stepped outside the defense perimeter. From now on, I was alone.
"I can't see anything!" I mindlessly increased the power of my shoulder-mounted headlights.
"XX01? Solvenar is up," said the sweet feminine voice in my ear. "Request to revert headlight boost for energy saving."
I looked up; a few snowflakes dropped on my visor and melted instantly. Astrilles' sun, Solvenar, was there indeed: a small orange sphere among the other stars, its light dim at best. No wonder why it was so cold out there.
"Negative," I answered. "I need it."
"Too high energy consumption-"
"You want to trade places?" I interrupted.
"Fine, it's your neck," said mission control. "Displaying objective on screen now: Delta Oasis, nineteen minutes to go. Intel discovered Voraces dug up and resettled there despite last month's cleansing. The mission is to reach the target and assess. Caution advised."
"Got it," I acknowledged as my combat display pinpointed the target. A stronger gust of wind threw me off balance, but I bent my legs and firmly stood my ground. The freezing air which insinuated through the fabric gave me chills. My tactical suit responded by expanding a little to increase thermal insulation. It was time to move on.
As I accelerated, the crunch of snow underfoot resonated with each stride, and I ascended the nearest hill, my gaze fixed on the distant oasis. The landscape stretched out in desolation, a canvas of empty, snowy desert fading into the ambient darkness. Delta outpost, the only beacon of light where I lived my whole life, lay behind. Ahead, the Delta Oasis beckoned—a dome-shaped mountain of ice dominating the horizon, with frozen sour-shroom stems sticking out. Puffs of steam occasionally burst forth from its cracks, a reminder of the planet's hidden geothermal heart. FR05's lessons echoed in my mind: "The waste temperatures are too cold to support life, but the planet's intense geothermal activity allows pockets of life to thrive around geysers and underground." I clenched my gloved fists: it was time for me to tell this life to get lost.
"XX01, you're off target! Request considering a direct path."
"Just trying something new. I never explored that way."
"This is not an exploration mission. A new path is inadvisable, request-"
"I thought it was my neck?" I abruptly interrupted mission control again, which didn't reply. She was right, of course, but I couldn't help it. Scattered boulders here and there were large enough to stick out of the frozen ground. I walked around that area, worried that more rocks could hide under the snow and trip me up. Snowdrifts ahead made me reconsider going further, so I finally headed to the ice wall.
Upon reaching the oasis, I used both arms to try and shatter the thick icicles descending from the canopy, in vain. Instead, I spotted a thin crack wide enough to slip through. I went in, hoping a random icicle wouldn't compromise my suit integrity. An intense smell of mold invaded me.
The ice dome was quite a majestic sight. It acted as an insulating layer, trapping warmth and moisture from the geysers and maintaining a more agreeable climate inside. The balance between the freezing and thawing of the ice dome sustained a persistent sparse rain composed of heavy drops. My thick suit detected the temperature change and started to deflate. That's when my visor fogged up.
"Step back out," said mission control. "Protocol not respected. Recommend waiting it out and using visor preheat before proceeding."
"Negative. I won't freeze out there with a deflated suit just because I forgot to preheat. I got this!"
The meters-thick ice dome was blocking sunlight, leaving the jungle pitch black. Despite my headlights being at max power, that condensation on my visor made me partly blind. If I turned the lights off, and after giving a minute for my eyes to adapt to the dark, I would see the faint natural bioluminescence from the fungi. But with that much condensation on that plexiglass in front of my face, I probably still wouldn't see anything. I extended my hands to feel the dense population of sour shrooms around me. Some were thin enough to be crushed under my feet with each step I took and made squishy noises. Others were so thick even two men couldn't encircle them with their arms. But mostly, they were up to my chest and flexible enough to be pushed aside, allowing me to keep going.
"XX01, proceeding with limited vision is not recommended. I repeat, request to step back and wait it out."
"I got this! It will just take a sec-" I insisted before taking a confident step... right into a crevasse. "Shiiiit!" I yelled.
"Damage report!" requested mission control.
"I fell about five meters on a shrubby patch of sour shrooms."
"Hang on! Diagnostics running... No injury!"
Phew! I didn't tell mission control, but I landed next to a bottomless fissure at an arm's length of certain death. Oases were treacherous ever-shifting 3D mazes with geysers carving rifts, bugs digging holes, and mushrooms growing everywhere so fast it was the only thing the damn bugs couldn't wipe out. It was funny how stable the wastes were by comparison, standing perfectly immobile probably for decades.
"On the bright side, I can see now!" I announced while surveying the area.
That relative peace didn't last long. I heard a deep rumbling and hissing sounds accompanying a slight tremor. I collapsed to the ground, turtling up. Damn geothermal activity. Nothing more happened for long minutes, but I knew an eruption was coming, and I had to wait it out. I took this time to gather shrooms around me, still turtled up, and buried myself in them. The hissing intensified until a loud roar came from the depths, followed by a burst of superheated water.
"Temperature critical," said mission control as the geyser erupted.
"No kidding," I said, finally standing up and wiggling to help sour shroom bits fall from my back. Now that it happened, I knew I would be fine, at least for the next four hours until the next cycle. I sighed as my visor partly fogged up again. Losing patience, I slid it up. The heat and humidity overwhelmed me, making me breathe harder, but I acclimated slowly. I had to see what was happening around me.
I yelled again as a chitinous insect about a third of my size landed on my ledge. "Hostile contact! Vorax in sight!"
The bug looked disgusting, its shiny skin sparsely covered with thin, sensitive hair. He rubbed his two huge horizontal fangs against each other. I winced upon hearing its terrible scratching sound. Then the Vorax tapped its first claw-shaped pair of legs on the ground a few times.
"Five seconds away from getting torn apart," said mission control.
Thanks for the heads up! Well, that's what I came for, didn't I?
The bug sent its thin antennas, longer than its body, wiggling toward me. I put my hand on the gun attached to my hip but hesitated. A gunshot could attract more of them.
I smelled the unique stench of Voraces. How to describe it? As bad as you could imagine but barely not bad enough to cause physical reactions. Smells like trouble, I thought. The bug lunged at me, not leaving enough time to draw the sword sheathed on my back. Summoning all my strength, I kicked it onto its side, enough to divert its trajectory into the abyss at our feet. The wannabe man-eater was nimble, though, and managed to scratch my leg with one of its claws, cutting off my holster. I watched my gun follow that abomination down the crevasse. Warm air insinuated inside my suit from that cut, making me sweat rapidly.
"Damn, suit integrity compromised! I should have taken the gun!" I said, falling back against the ledge to appease my wounded leg and noticing more Voraces above me.
"Survival probability low, mission success low," said mission control.
"Well, thanks!" I yelled at mission control, which nearby bugs heard for sure. "Time to beat the odds, then!"
Growing weaker, I finally seized my sword and clung to its hilt with all my strength. "Come on! Come get me!" I snarled, slicing a dozen of bugs as they fell on me. The last one of that batch still managed to sink a claw as thick as my forearm deep into my torso. My right arm and shoulder dropped, inanimate, and I let my sword slip. Probably snapped-off ligaments or nerves. Or both. I collapsed on my knees.
"Smart bugs..." I whispered, helpless, as my visor flashed critical injury alerts everywhere. "Rhaaaa! I can't believe they got me that easily! Restart!" I commanded, triggering the message 'XX01 died' in global chat.
Once again, I was back at the edge of the defense perimeter. I glanced at the chat:
XX02: Bro!
XX02: Come on
XX02: You got this
XX01: Stupid simulation
XX04: Haha!!!
XX04: Noob
XX04: I told you
XX04: You fight like a carer
Stupid geysers, stupid bugs, and stupid XX04!
Warmup was over. Ignoring everything and everyone, I ran, pissed, heading straight back to the oasis. But this time, I didn’t forget the preheat and had my gun in hand.
"One hit, one kill!" I shouted, running at full speed in that dense jungle. I didn't care anymore about mission control's complaints. That time, I didn't leave the Voraces any chance. I shot and watched them all drop on the ground, one by one, like spiny snowflakes.
"Mission accomplished," mission control finally said. "Congratulations, new high score: 237 kills, one death."
Now was the time to boast in chat.
XX01: 237/1
XX01: Who can beat this? Huh?
XX01: Who's talking now?
XX01: @XX04 Who fights like a carer?
XX04: Cheater!
XX08: Damn, I'm jealous!
XX11: Teach me
XX02: Congratz
XX02: 124/3 and counting
XX30: 11/0, mission accomplished! Does that count?
XX07: lol
XX07: Did you know
XX07: You got to kill those bugs
XX07: Noob
Suddenly, the chat went silent.
Sounds interesting
doesn't that mean there can only be a hundred people be born in the same year?
If you only read the first chapter, don't read anything from this comment.
Yes and no, more like two squadrons of 30, per outpost, per year. I wrote somewhere that babies are transferred between outposts at birth, so an excess of babies in one outpost is compensated by a deficit elsewhere. In times of peace, as it was before the story starts, the general objective is to maintain the current population. I never meant to mention it (because there was no real need for it), but besides outposts, there are a few major cities that absorb/compensate for any excess/deficit of babies. I'll never talk about cities in the story to keep on track, particularly since they are too far away to walk to. But obviously, the rank of General isn't the highest in their entire civilization.