Isabel Kalishnikov
Okay, I’ll admit I’m really nervous. I have to admit it because the first step to overcoming nervousness is to say it out loud. Only then will you find the encouragement to overcome it.
It’s silly, I know. But all human emotions have their little programming protocols. Every single feeling has a quirky method to balance it. With the feeling of guilt comes the confession. With anger, you tun 180 degrees on your heels, walk at least 50 steps and take deep breaths every step of the way. With grief, you cover your eyes, bow your head and leave the back of your neck exposed for a total of two hours.
And with nervousness, you say it out loud and then breath deeply and evenly.
Inside the lobby of the Hall of Conspiracies, I feel ready to make the ascension. I look up two stories, past the glass ceiling and up to the higher constructs of this building. Up there, I can see the circular landing platform. Somewhere high above me, my Raven awaits. Perhaps it’s being refueled. Perhaps it’s on lockdown. Perhaps it’s being disassembled or reassembled. Today is the day I get to see my Raven. All the experiences of my childhood. All the jobs I’ve inhabited in my career. All the experiences I’ve accumulated. It’s all led me to this. This is not luck. This is not destiny. This is what I’ve been working towards.
I decide not to hide my smile as I wave to the security desk. My fingerprints are recognized from across the lobby. The turnstile in front of me illuminates green and I push past the doors. Beyond the security check point are the banks of elevator tubes.
I am now among the flurry of morning shifters who are all heading towards their duties in the various offices, laboratories and hangars throughout the Hall Of Conspiracies. Most of them look confident and absentminded. They all have their jobs. They’ve all been here days and days previous to this. They know what they’re facing.
It’s my first day as a Raven pilot. I’m nervous.
I find the elevator tube that will take me up there. I step in and the door closes. I hold up my hand toward the wall. It recognizes my hand print. The wall of the tube illuminates. “What floor please?” I tell it I’m heading to PBC level. Pilot Briefing and Command. The elevator tubes are like no other elevator I’ve ever seen. On planets and gravitational bodies, normally elevators use pulleys. In spaceships and sub-gravity surfaces, elevators use magnetics.
This elevator has no walls and no ceiling. It’s really just a platform in a tube. I can look all the way up and see the tube stretch into darkness. The platform is raised and lowered using pneumatic compression. I can feel the viscosity of air as I almost touch the wall the curved. The wall doesn’t feel like it’s stationary at all. And the wall is digital... All the way up. The digital display must detect my presence or something. Because projects from the wall as the elevator goes up. Just a big tube with a floor.
In other words, the elevator is pretty cool.
When the platform stops, and the wall opens, I step out. I have ascended to the highest reaches of Raven Division. The skywalk in front of me continues up towards the rounded center of the building, After walking up the skywalk for a few moments, it no longer feels like I’m walking upwards. It’s just the gravity feels a little different. At the top of the skywalk, there’s another security checkpoint. I easily pass through and realize I’m really close to the Murder Room. The hallway to the Murder Room is pretty elite. There are no other offices on this level. There is are the locker rooms for our pilot gear at the other end of the hallway. Showers, changing rooms. There are also dorm rooms on this level, just in case we need to be here on standby. Also, there’s a commissary and recreation room. Around the corner is the stairs up to the Mission Control Room and Speerman’s office.
As I head down the hallway, the other pilots are talking outside the room. A couple of them turn to me. Their flight suits are identical to mine. I actually feel like I’m about to be accepted into a real team. Not just any team. The most elite pilots in the solar system. They nod at me without comment. More like, they’re looking at me. Sizing me up.
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| Hall of Conspiracies. Pilot Briefing and Command level, The Murder Room. |
A chime sounds throughout the hallway, signalling the briefing is about to begin. I follow them into the Murder Room. As I step through the doorway, I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The light changes dramatically. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the brightness. But when they do adjust, the inside of the Murder Room is actually darker.
“You’ll get used to the lighting when you walk in,” said one of the other pilots. A blond guy. “That weird, itchy feeling and th lighting is to disrupt any attempts to eavesdrop in here.”
“Uhh, is there assigned seating in here?” I ask.
“Sit where you’re comfortable. And once you get comfortable, move your bones when a senior pilots makes you move.” The blond guy winks at me.
I squeeze in between the conversations into the bank of seats on the right. The projection screen in front of me shows the error message of no live feed. I don’t feel comfortable enough to join in any conversations around me. So I just look at the screen as if I’m reading it. No live feed. Not very interesting. But I guess that’s all there is to it. Suddenly, I find myself in between an argument.
I hope this briefing starts soon.
This is a short science fiction story from the sci fi cartoon series Ravens of Mars. All content copyright D.S. Meyers 2017. www.RavensofMars.com
