SECTOR 10 (The CLOUD 2)

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 11

Alon Blane and the Syndicate have more work on their hands than getting to the low orbit station. For starters, trouble at takeoff is only the start of their problems. They need to keep these strikers aloft long enough to reach orbit successfully. Near the takeoff and loading dock for a group of mangled strikers abandoned years ago, Alon and a group of nomadic vagabonds huddle themselves together to find solutions. The vagabonds are from a local tribe of beta-testers. Their mangled bodies are a result of generations where operations by the Third Reich were used to torment their extremities, creating distorted physiques and overly bowed legs that put constraints on their movements, especially while walking. Their gaits create a wobble from head to toe.

"Can I get a little help over here?" Alon calls to a hoard of b-testers at the outer edge of the barren crop circle. Its circular boundary encases the striker launchpad.

One of the b-testers lifts their head rapidly from hunched shoulders, her stature leaves a vague image in the distance of a stout woman, too short to call herself normal. To Alon, she is submerged up to her chest as heat waves create the illusion of water flowing along the crusted pavement. For once, the rain has subsided. Though days like these are hot as ever.

"I'll need another batch of Remold's oil, this way!" Alon's yells mask his apprehension, the fact that he can't get the engines to burn at full capacity. Strikers like these missed the next generation's upgrade, nuclear fusion raging hot as the sun.

If the lead gauge doesn't hit at least 90 percent on the scale, then the strikers' engines won't be able to thrust themselves into low Earth orbit. The construction workers toiling away at an early Fortress Shield may block their move if Alon and his Syndicate crew don't evade the crowded space of laborers and tools. In no time, one of the b-tester vagabonds from an adjacent village meanders toward the hub at the center of the crop circle's launchpad. Here, three strikers wait for the sequence when they can launch at the precise point their linear coordinates have calculated. The striker gauges suffice in doing that for them automatically after they determine the course toward the Mirai station.

"Here it is, ya' oil Blane. Say, can we catch a ride with you up there?"

Alon is cautious. "I'm going to have to pass on that," he says.

The female b-tester grabs hold of her ankles in a low bend before rising again, letting her dingy hair cover her face before turning around to meet Alon after a nice stretch. The dust settles somewhere ahead of her. Just then, a group of Alon's partners in the Syndicate make way toward the three strikers. Two seats in each cockpit, a front dash, and another behind wait for them. If there's anything they fear most, it's being attacked by Mirai security forces in low Earth orbit.

Alon turns toward the other five of his partners to reveal a tool of his, something he's been using since his father passed years ago. An astrology chart for the stars and zodiac. The Mirai don't believe in folktales anymore, but Alon insists that there's some truth to them. Myth has it that the Mirai are shapeshifters, and Overseers like the Grey Order themselves can mimic the figures they see in constellations Greeks and Romans worshiped, where a pantheon of Gods live. These are the stories, rumors that inspired Alon Blane.

"It will be good luck for us," Blane declares, determined to provide some solace to counteract the worry. There hasn't been a legitimate rebellion in decades, though if Alon can manage to keep track of stars' coordinates, he may be able to follow in the footsteps of starship Nemesis. The last of these rebellions failed miserably and the memory of it is startling. After hopping into the lead cockpit, Alon Blane decides to roll at a steady pace at the edge of the crop circle before gaining speed, forgetting about any discussions distracting him from the mission. The others follow his lead. Finally, the area is safe for takeoff, as the outer edges are at a steep angle that assists their launch. The slight curvature of the launchpad will assist strikers' takeoff from the circular runway. Because of its unique design, takeoffs from the runway leave less room for catastrophic error than a long, straight one would have.