Curious Sols (The Sol Principle Book 1) Page 4

  After washing the meal down with a drink, she again looked in the pack. This time, she took out a jet black case about five inches long by two inches wide. Barely observable was a label on the case that read, Dr. Ashley Quinn. Stephanie looked around the room, as though she was looking for someone in particular. Satisfied, she quickly opened the case and took out the elastic band within. Stephanie slid a similar band off her head, placing it in the black case. She then twisted her curly brown hair through the new band and adjusted it across her forehead until comfortably sitting at her hairline.

  As she put on the neuroband, Stephanie caught a glimpse of movement in a side corner of the room. She couldn’t be too careful. Pretending to go about her pre-launch checks, she kept watch on the corner off the reflections inside her coaster sim. It would be just like the academy to send someone to check on her. They were always checking up on her. It was one more thing she hated about being crammed aboard the ship, there was no place to get away. No place except maybe the coaster.

  A young man approached the coaster from the side, Stephanie wasn’t watching.

  “Steph,” greeted the young man once he had stepped to the coaster.

  Striking her head on the low ceiling of the coaster, Stephanie literally jumped out of her seat.

  “Steph, what are you doing skipping class?” he questioned her.

  She grabbed her head checking for bleeding while turning in her chair toward him.

  “Kevin, jeeze. You trying to put me in the med bay?” Stephanie sarcastically asked.

  “No, but that’s where Mr. Kendal thinks I am,” Kevin replied. “I was hoping I wouldn’t find you down here. If you father finds out you’ve skipped class again for a coaster run, you'll be grounded until we hit solid ground… on Mars.”

  “Relax Kev,” Stephanie cast him a smile. “It’s not like you wouldn’t see me. I must be the only girl in the fleet with a boyfriend her father wants around.”

  Kevin was the much younger brother of Kyle Jennings, her father’s right hand man in the sentinels. The whole Jennings clan was a bunch of straight shooters. Kevin would likely throw himself on his own sabre before going beyond a kiss with her. It was that old fashioned chivalry stuff that his family was known for, and likely why Kevin was so popular with her father. Even so, only his good looks and boyish charm kept him in her graces during times like this, when he drove her crazy.

  “Come on. If you go with me now, I can probably get you into class with my pass from the med bay. It’s just a matter of catching the teacher when he’s lecturing,” Kevin insisted.

  “You know, that type A personality of yours is wearing thin on me, Kevin,” Stephanie stated with a hint of anger. “Just go back to class and leave me alone. There’re enough people in my business right now. I don’t need more.” Stephanie glanced to the side corner of the room again.

  Reaching up to the ceiling, she hit the manual override button on the doors. Then without warning, she pulled the door shut in Kevin’s face. Turning, she yanked the door down on the other side of the coaster as well.

  In a rare gesture of frustration, Kevin smacked his hand on the coaster and walked away.

  Stephanie watched him leave the room. A little voice in the back of her mind told her that wasn’t the way to handle the situation. It wasn’t something she would linger on.

  “Let's see what you can do,” Stephanie silently challenged herself as she started up the coaster. The chair naturally leaned back. Its ergonomically designed cushions were designed for comfort. They also provided the same feeling of being in a real coaster back home. The armrests of the chair each led to a well-positioned steering controller. They were used in tandem to control the coaster's movement. Skilled use of the controllers enabled the rider to steer the coaster in any direction desired.

  After making her last ready check, Stephanie tapped the start-up button. The sides of the coaster slid and closed, providing a neutral environment for the neurolink to operate without distraction. Outside of the coaster, a holographic image of the coaster appeared. This hologram allowed other patrons of the Chiller to observe the coaster runs and cheer for the riders if desired. In this case, it also could sink her ship if some patron recognized Stephanie and talked to her father about the run. With a bit of work she could usually talk her way out of things with her father. Skipping MARC training would be hard to explain from the seat of a coaster.

  “Aaah,” Stephanie muttered, “almost forgot.”

  Pulling an old Ksync her father had given her out of pack, she strapped it to part of the chair.

  “Music, Made of Tears, 6.0,” she prompted the Ksync with her voice.

  One of the few things her father had hooked her on was listening to some of his oldies. There was a comfort that came from listening to them, reminding her of better days. This song in particular helped her find a groove, some guitarist her dad called Joe Satch wrote the thing ages ago. Not something she played around her friends.

  As the song started, Stephanie closed her eyes and began the link routine. Control her breathing, visualize a safe starting ground, check her senses--all the steps typically taught to beginning students.

  “Okay, so my last run I scored a 7.8 degree of difficulty,” she recalled. “Tonight we are going for 9.0 or bust, girl,” Stephanie said in an exhilarated voice.

  Stephanie brushed her fingers through her hair touching the neuroband interface.

  “This isn't your old neuro,” she reassured herself. “Straight from lab, this ought to melt some time off the clock.”

  The coaster was one of the few things that challenged her. The free-form track made her a better driver. You either drove in the moment or it drove you, usually off a cliff.

  A soft voice in the coaster chair began to count down from ten seconds. “…Nine, eight, seven, six....”

  A symphony of light sprang to life all around her, instantly transporting Stephanie to the top of an arctic mountain peak.

  The voice continued, “five, four, three...”

  Her coaster chair had transformed into single rider sled. Its sides were covered in ice which stretched down to the steel blades supporting the cart. Stephanie felt a shiver run down her spine as her body felt the drastic temperature change.

  The last words of the computer voice sounded “…two, one, launch.”

  The coaster shot off the cliff like a cannon and into a near ninety degree dive straight down. A blast of arctic air filled her lungs nearly suffocating her for a moment. The rails of the sled clanked off the side of the mountain, knifing through snowbanks without resistance.

  Stephanie quickly regained her composure and began steering the coaster. The amount of sensory information was like nothing she had experienced before. It was as if she had been looking through a pair of dirty, half-broken glasses, then given a laser telescope to see through instead.

  Using extremely fine movements she steered the coaster down the mountain. A jagged looking rock formation was nearing the sled too quickly. She slammed the steering controls to opposite sides throwing the sled into a three hundred sixty degree rotation. Like a basketball player putting a spin on a defender, Stephanie deftly maneuvered the sled around the rock formation.

  Just as she had righted the sled and was starting to feel a bit cocky, it dropped down a bit and struck a large snow drift head on. Luckily, the sled blasted through the pile leaving only a biting feeling of snow-burn across her face.

  “Ow!” Stephanie howled, “that really burns.”

  Barely having time to wipe the slush from her face, she was forced to focus on a new obstacle quickly approaching. A fissure in the mountain slope ahead completely wound its way across the terrain. Stephanie scoured the icy slop looking for something to help her cross it.

  “There we go,” she smiled as another jagged rock formation approached. “When you can't go around,” Stephanie steered the sled directly at the snow packed boulders. “You go up!”

  Pulling back hard on the controllers, the fr
ont of the sled lifted up off the ground. The sled cracked into the snow pile, its rails screaming as they ground on the rock and snow. Then with a jump, the sled launched into the air.

  Stephanie took in the wonder of the flight and the beauty of the arctic vista as she soared through the air. She couldn't, however, help but notice the difficulty indicator. It was a number that floated along beside her, untouched by the events of the ride. It dimly flashed the number 8.7.

  “Eight point seven!” she thought to herself. “I’m just starting. Wow!

  As the sled arced across the fissure, Stephanie resisted the temptation to look down. Then unable to keep her curiosity in check, she peeked below her sled seeing only an opening plummeting into darkness.

  “Not something I want explore,” she mused.

  The sled began to descend. Stephanie compensated by angling it up like a champion ski jumper preparing for a landing. Her nerves seemed to be getting to her more than usual. There was something about this coaster ride that was really starting to bother her.

  With a controlled crash, the sled landed across the fissure and continued its race down the mountainside. Stephanie struggled, only slightly, to recover her steering, regaining some confidence in the ride.

  The barren terrain gave way to tall pines dotting the horizon. Stephanie shook her hands out quickly and prepared for some fast turning. At first the maneuvering around the trees was too easy, but that changed soon enough. Clusters of pines now filled the mountainside in front of her. Dancing right then left, she skillfully avoided what could have been disastrous collisions.

  Stephanie yelped as a tree branch cracked against the front of her sled, rolled up the windshield, and caught her across the side of the face. Half-dazed from the blow, she reached up to feel the side of her head. Looking at her hand, Stephanie was conscious enough to realize something was bleeding. Moreover, something was desperately wrong. Coasting was a game and this was far beyond a game.

  #

  Ashley Quinn was sticking halfway out of a computer bay when she recognized an alarm was sounding. The alarm was coming from a part of the lab she hadn’t used in days, making her response a bit lackadaisical. Pushing the lift button, the workstation rose back to floor level giving her a visual of the alarm.

  “What do we have here?” questioned Ashley with a puzzled look on her face.

  Walking faster toward the offending sound, she became more and more concerned.

  “Oh, no!” Ashley ran as she spotted the source of the alarm. “Computer, track the location of alarm Alpha Five.”

  A bland voice replied, “Neuroband Alpha Five has been activated on Deck C, Observation Room Two.”

  “The Chiller…” thought Ashley. “Computer, what is the status of Neuroband Alpha Five?” she continued.

  “Neuroband Alpha Five is currently connected to link thirty-five, designation recreation,” reported the computer.

  Ashley nervously tapped her leg as she quickstepped over to the neuroband storage compartment. Rapidly waving her arm past the security scanner, she yanked the door of the compartment open. Her fingertips ran across the compartments inside, each one holding a dozen black cases, until she found the last one. There, in the fifth slot down, rested an empty case holder.

  Thinking back to last week, it didn’t take Ashley long to put two and two together.

  “No,” she muttered, “Steph wouldn’t do that, wouldn’t…” Ashley continued in muddled speech as she half ran, half stumbled over to the control booth.

  Sitting down in the control chair, Ashley opened a black case that was attached to her belt. Taking the neuroband out, she slipped around her head faster than a gunslinger. The glass panel in front of her tilted up for comfortable reach as her hands flew across it. Within seconds she pulled up a visual on the screen of an arctic mountain. Leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes, skipped her own warm-up routines, and jumped straight into neurolink.

  When she opened her eyes, Ashley was in a small sled at the top of an extremely tall mountain. A voice was counting down from ten as arctic winds blew fiercely across the mountaintop. It was the start of a game.

  “Oh geeze, Stephanie,” Ashley panicked as she calculated the deadly mix of a test neuroband and the game. “You’ve no idea.”

  The countdown had nearly run down, but before the sled launched Ashley leaped out of the seat. Like an Olympic diver, she dove through the air down the mountainside. Ashley concentrated as she continued to free fall, focusing on the terrain ahead. Her thoughts coalesced into a picture of military grade headgear. From seemingly thin air appeared a helmet with a protective visor. Ashley grabbed the free floating headgear and strapped it on. Her fall was taking her on a course to impact the ground in seconds. Again focusing her thoughts, Ashley pictured a hoverbike, just like the one she rode as a teen. Popping out of thin air, a red and silver machine appeared. Two large silver discs were mounted underneath the bike at the front and back. A cushioned red seat balanced in the middle of the contraption.

  Ashley grabbed on to the bike and swung herself into the seat. Punching a button on the steering bars, the bike sent a shockwave underneath it, roaring to life. Turning the bike away from the mountain, it shot forward narrowly avoiding the ground below. Once she was soaring on a level plane, Ashley tapped the helmet she wore. A grid appeared in the visor with two blinking lights. The light in the back was moving rapidly toward the first.

  Tapping the other side of the helmet Ashley yelled above the roar of the engines, “Stephanie, Stephanie listen to me. I’m coming to get you. Do you hear me?”

  Silence was the only response she heard, silence, and more silence.

  “Stephanie, quit your course!” Ashley yelled. “Don’t race, turn off, stop your run!” she cried desperately. Straining to hear a voice, any sound, Ashley listened, but heard only silence. Without seeing Stephanie, she wouldn't be able to send her a headset to hear. Even at this rate, the odds of reaching Stephanie before she lost control were poor.

  #

  Stephanie’s sled continued to rocket down the hill. Nearing the bottom, she could see a large crater in the distance. Blinking her eyes and squinting, she tried to clear her head and get a better look ahead. The ice that covered the mountainside was not present around the mouth of the crater. In fact, what at first looked like fog was more likely steam rising out from within.

  Frantically, Stephanie looked for a way to avoid the path ahead. The terrain was void of anything that could be used as a ramp. She couldn't swerve around the crater, it was too large and she was going too fast. In the end, Stephanie knew there was only one direction this course would take her.

  “I guess we're on fast track to the core,” she yelped while bracing herself for an impending jump.

  The rails growled as they hit the mouth of the crater and shot into the air. Leaving the safety of ground it arced upward, until gravity pulled the sled down, straight into the crater.

  Positioned above the crater, Stephanie could now see bridges of ice crisscrossing the crater at various levels. Jamming the controllers up and to the right, she fought to glide the sled toward the nearest bridge.

  “Come on, you can do it,” Stephanie scolded the sled It became readily apparent, however, that it was traveling too fast and at the wrong angle to land on the bridge.

  Instead of landing on the bridge, the impact shattered the ice bridge into thousands of pieces. Shockwaves of ice rippled through the sled’s skeleton pounding Stephanie's body.

  “Ahhh,” she screamed. The pain was intense, what was going on? Her arm. She couldn't use her left arm.

  Stephanie fought off the waves of mind numbing pain. Her sled continued to plummet down the gigantic crater indirectly striking bridges. Darkness surrounded her fall with the exception of an orangish brown light beginning to emanate from below her. Summoning what resolve she could, Stephanie used the right controller to steer. Continuing to plunge downward, she narrowly avoided a direct strike from another ice sheet. Wi
thin a few seconds the sled had exited the crater and emerged in vast underground area. The orangish light had grown very bright now, and moreover, its beams carried a scorching amount of heat. Stephanie was plunging straight toward a sea of molten lava.

  #

  Ashley’s mind rolled in turmoil, locked up by the fear of what could happen to Stephanie. She should be able to think of something. She invented this confounded device, why couldn't she think of a faster way to travel?

  Just then, a memory flashed through her mind of a missile test she observed back on Earth. Instantly, she conjured a picture of the missile in her mind and brought her will to summon it.

  Like the hoverbike before it, a white missile now blasted through the air. Quickly accelerating, the missile streaked forward powered by flames. Ashley then pictured a lasso in her mind, one that roped around the missile. In milliseconds a long lasso had roped the missile and she grabbed onto it with all her might.

  The targeting window in her visor now showed her closing in amazingly fast on Stephanie’s position. Just as her hopes rose, however, they were immediately dashed as the second blip, Stephanie's blip, disappeared from her visor.

  “No!” cried Ashley in heartbreak as she reached her left hand out toward the distance.

  Fighting back the tears something in her mind clicked, a thought that had never occurred to her before. In that instant, bringing all her focus together in one single thought, Ashley hacked her own creation. Within the confines of this simulation, she stopped time.

  #

  Aghast with her situation, Stephanie somehow caught sight of the floating number still flying up and to her right.

  “It can't be!” Stephanie exclaimed. “But how?” The number display was set at ten point four. “You can't go past ten. That's impossible.” she bellowed.