Aft Elevator

Heading Down from Deck 12 of the Tranquility

“I’ve been saving up for this,” Potter said, as I admired the stock on his sniper rifle. The stock was of real wood, carved in an elegant shape that seamlessly joined the long metal barrel. Elite units were generally armed with the H-83 Assault Rifle, but each squad also had a sharpshooter who carried a sniper rifle. The rifles were all metal, printed in the Fabrication Section, but Potter had managed to procure some wood to be carved into a stock. One of the perks of working in the Agricultural Section, I supposed.

“Very nice,” I said, trying and failing to hide my envy. Potter gave a slight smile.

“Look, Samantha, I know you want to be a sharpshooter. Chances are you’ll make it eventually. You made it on a Seraphim Suppression Squad, after all. There aren’t too many who can say that. Just keep your head down, do your job well, and before you know it I bet you can transfer to another squad as sharpshooter.”

I smiled. It was nice of him to say, and though I liked the idea I already knew I would miss having him as squad mate. They were an alright bunch all around, even if the sergeant was a bit of an ass. But then, he was supposed to be, and I had served under worse. I shifted to the side, the mines I was carrying clanking softly together, strapped around my left shoulder and resting against my body armor.

“Check your weapons,” Sergeant Gunnarson said, apropos of nothing. We were in the elevator leading into the Outer Rim and I had already checked my rifle four times. But it was the work of a moment to do it again. Kaltran caught my eyes and gave a slight shrug. Yeah, they were an alright bunch. The elevator was decelerating now, and I readied myself alongside the others, in our pre-planned positions. We would storm out and scan the area as if we were landing into combat.

The moment the doors opened we sped forward in our prearranged formation, Kaltran at the fore and me beside him hooking left, as Henderson and the sergeant ran off to the right. Kaltran had found a good boulder to squat behind, but I passed him a few meters to shelter behind a tree. I tried not to reflect on the fact that this was the first tree I had ever seen in my life, barring videos of course, and instead I snapped my rifle up and crouched beside the tree.

Oh, but what a smell it had!

Potter remained in the elevator, lying prone and scanning the distance with his sniper rifle. “Sir, I see movement,” the sharpshooter reported.

“Who is it?” Sergeant Gunnarson asked. There was a long, tense silence.

“Ah, it’s a tree,” Potter said, vaguely sheepish.

“Trees don’t move,” the sergeant observed in annoyance.

The sharpshooter went into a lengthy explanation of wind and tree branches and how that was technically movement of a sort, but Sergeant Gunnarson cut him short.

“Let’s make this quick. Samantha, you’ve got those mines?”

I approached, the mines dangling off my armor, and shrugged off the strap.

“Kaltran, show her how it’s done.”

As I scanned to the left, which my digital compass said was aft, my HUD lit up with the glowing indicators of a minefield. Kaltran had set his minigun down, an enormous six-barreled weapon that seemed excessive against lowerdecker barbarians, and approached me.

“Three? Hmm. I’ll plant the first one, we’ll plant the second together, and the third will be yours alone. Sound good?”

“Of course,” I said, hiding my nerves. How hard could it be, after all? I strapped the rifle on my back to free my hands and followed Kaltran forward as he stepped gingerly toward the minefield. The gap in the minefield was marked on my HUD with a recent text entry and I scanned it over as I walked.

According to my HUD, the last Seraphim patrol left this elevator six days ago, a group of guards and Bridge Officers sent to keep watch over the area. Evidently there had been rumblings of war in this sub-section.

Kaltran pointed out the spot, but he didn’t need to bother. A great chunk had been torn from the nearby dirt, the rotted corpse of a deer half-collapsed on the side. The antlers stuck out prominently, slender things curving to a point. I suspect most would find it odd, but even in the carnage I found a certain beauty in their shape.

That was, after all, the first thing I had ever seen that hadn’t been crafted by human hands.

“There’s our little minesweeper,” Kaltran said, stepping lightly through the minefield, walking through the gaps. “Watch your step, Sara. Just make sure you’re three meters away from any mine indicator. Five meters if possible.”

I padded along behind him, holding my breath as if trying to make myself lighter. Of course, Kaltran was in front and he was heavy for a man, and loaded down with gear and equipment as well. That gave me some comfort, harsh as that may seem. Kaltran paused by the dead deer and touched its flank with his leather gauntlet.

“Poor little fellow. Samantha, help me drag it over here.”

I hauled on the upper portion of the deer and together we hauled it a few meters away over the upturned dirt. With a last jerk at the end the skull came away in my hands. Kaltran chuckled beside me. I marveled at the antlers for a moment.

“Think I can take these antlers home? That would be a good souvenir.”

Kaltran laughed again. “You’re a funny one, Samantha. Alright, watch how I set the mine.”

I squatted, focusing on the patch of dirt and grass as Kaltran cleared a spot. The grass rustled in the gentle breeze and I marveled at it for a moment. You never got wind in the Upper Decks but I supposed the massive Agricultural Section allowed for it. Perhaps it had something to do with the centrifugal force generated by the Tranquility’s perpetually spinning artificial gravity engines.

But I’m no scientist.

“That should do it. We don’t want passengers getting close to the elevator,” Kaltran said in a soft voice, flipping the switch that armed the mine, and stepped back. “It’s better for everyone that way.”

I nodded. It was common knowledge, after all, one of the most important amendments to the Book of Regulations in our long Journey. The First Mutiny had started with the passengers and caused a cascading cycle of violence that lasted to this day.

And, though few dared to say it out loud, had almost certainly doomed the entire ship.

“We’ll clear the dirt here,” Kaltran said, and together we kicked the loose upturned dirt back with our boots.

“Passengers spotted,” Potter said, his voice coming through my helmet’s internal speakers. I made no move to look up as Kaltran crouched to the ground and dug a small hole.

“Where?” Sergeant Gunnarson asked over the comms.

“1200 meters to starboard, heading fore. Looks like two riders and a herd of cows.”

Kaltran grabbed one of the mines and placed it in the hole. “Let’s cover it with dirt once it’s armed.”

I nodded, though of course he couldn’t see, and scooped dirt into my hands. Kaltran armed the mine and backed away as the loose dirt trailed through my gloved hands, falling on top of the blinking mine, until it was covered with a thin blanket of dirt.

“More?” I asked, but Kaltran shook his head.

"The passengers are out of sight,” Potter’s calm voice said in my helmet.

Kaltran was walking a few meters away and paused to point at spot where there was a gap in the minefield. The ground near it was scarred black, a few small chunks of bone and metal scattered nearby, a hole already formed. Kaltran passed the mine over to me.

“Your turn. Just set it in the hole there.”

For all its deadly power the mine felt light in my hands. Almost weightless. I crouched down, slow and careful in my movements, and placed the mine in the dirt hole. I toggled the switch and a dim, almost unnoticeable red light appeared on the side. They would last for decades, I was told. Slowly, ever so slowly, I scraped the sides and loose dirt soon covered the mine.

“That’s it?” I asked, leaning back.

“That’s it,” Kaltran responded, turning back to retrieve his minigun, and a moment later I heard his voice through my helmet. “Sergeant, the mines are set.”

“Let’s go,” Sergeant Gunnarson said, and Kaltran and I weaved our way past the minefield. Green icons on my HUD, navigating past the blinking threat indicators of the armed mines, showed that the rest of the squad was following us.

I breathed out and for the first time looked into the distance beyond. Despite the VR training I found the curve of the landscape boggling. It seemed to fall increasingly lower into the distance before beginning to rise again, the view cut off by the curving ceiling above. It reminded me of the half-pipe at my hab block’s Rec Lounge, where I had once goofed around on a former boyfriend’s skateboard. From where we were standing it was like we were standing at the very lip of a massive half pipe.

I grinned to myself, feeling once again the thrill of the board resting on the lip, just about to roll downhill.

“Henderson, take point,” Sergeant Gunnarson said as the rest of the squad joined us. “We need to move a few klicks aft before we make our way starboard. We don’t want the locals figuring out where we’re coming from.”