The Ascent

The Ascent -- Part One: Signs and Portents

Chapter 1

I knew it was the wrong question before I asked it, knew Dr. Powers would never approve, and yet I had paid a small fortune for this opportunity. I wasn't going to leave with a simple yes or no.

I entered the chamber, stepping carefully through the tangled mess of power cables, data cables and security cables which kept the ring of sensors secured to the decking and connected to a n-core q-bit processor somewhere in the space station. In the center of the spider web lurked a carbon-black tank, three-quarters full of a faintly green glowing hydro-gel. Suspended over the tank on hydraulics, wreathed in tangled creepers of fiber-optic cables, a lid hung poised as if ready to slam down on whatever threat emerged from within.

The wall on my left, relatively free of obstructions, flickered to life where someone had slapped up a coat of smartpaint. A young, non-threatening, Eurasian female smiled reassuringly at me, her too symmetrical computer generated face marred by the occasional conduits and junction boxes over which it was displayed. "Greetings, Pilot Officer Phon. Welcome to the quantum-signature scanning room. We were able to access your records from the New Athens Academy and the Mars Defense Force so we will only need to ask you a few questions to update your information. If you would like the orientation briefing, say continue, if not, say skip."

"Skip."

"Please remove your clothes and your netpiece. You'll find personal facilities behind you."

I stripped off the Mars Defense Force flight suit and hung it on a hook. The rest of my gear went on a shelf. I tugged the netpiece hanging over my left ear from the magnetic contacts at the base of my skull, and laid it on top of my gear. The data feed glittering on the inside of my corneas disappeared, severing me from my connection to the news, culture, and my network of friends and family. It somehow left me feeling alone and naked in a way I hadn't felt when I was merely alone and naked.

"The hydrogel in the tank is necessary to filter out environmental noise. It also serves as a contact for the sensors. It has been heated to your current body temperature, so please step into the tank when you are ready." I stepped inside and sat in the warm ooze. The AI continued its instructions. "Please attach the respirator and ear plugs and lie back in the tank. If you need instructions, please say help."

I ripped the plastic mask from its velcro fastener on the underside of the lid and pulled the attached plastic tube until the valve clicked open. Removing the waxed plastic strip from the adhesive edge of the mask, I carefully sealed it around my face. Then I took the two earplugs from their container in the lid and inserted them.

This was my third visit to an oracle, my third attempt to pierce the veil of quantum probability. My first trip was as a student volunteer for a research project at the academy at New Athens. My second scan was part of a calibration test for the Martian Defense Force. This third scan would allow the oracle to more effectively triangulate my future, though I'm told the scans are even more effective if they're not quite so close together. At 2.3 million terra a scan--five times the average person's annual income--I wouldn't even have had this scan made if it were not for the advice of my mentor, Dr. Powers, and the decision I faced.

"Can you hear me?" the AI asked.

I lay back in the goo with a squelch. "Yes." The mask muffled my voice.

The lid began descending. "Our records indicate you .28 on the claustrophobic scale. You may prefer to close your eyes. A mild sedative has been added to your air mixture for your comfort." The light shining through my eyelids faded to black. Through the hydrogel, I heard the thunk and hiss of the lid sealing the tank. I took a slow deep breath, relaxed my body, and tried to will my heartbeat to slow.