Secrets of the Antiwave

PART 3 | Chapter 15: Long Live the Sun!

The exosuits were a tight fit. By the time we were dressed, the relay was only several minutes away, exponentially growing in size as we approached. It looked like a mutant pinecone, covered in red and yellow wens, encased in thorny rings and antennae.

The ship spun around, met the dock's magnetic field, and drifted into place. Four loud clicks, hissing, and the airlock slowly opened. We put our masks on and followed Huxley's armoured form through disinfectant mist.

'Halt,' said a garbled voice, 'present identification.'

Huxley's equally garbled voice replied, 'Tennyson West, relay repairs. ID two-oh-six-five-one. Fifteenth shift on Martian relay SI-7.'

There was an long and eerie pause while the guard consulted a monitor on their wrist. The monitor chirped. The guard looked side to side, then back at Huxley. Their shoulders dropped.

'Jesus, they're really turning Interstellar into a dystopian nightmare, eh Tennyson?' The garbled noises might've been laughter, 'I don't think I'll ever get used to the new code of conduct. All these barcodes and IDs, whatever happened to trust?

'Tell me about it,' replied Huxley, 'the whole world's going to hell with this new management.'

'You can say that again. Okay crew, you're free to go. Upload your IDs onto the maintenance log, my men will be gone in a couple minutes.'

Once the guard was gone, another distorted noise came from Huxley's mask -- definitely a sigh of relief.

* * *

'Alright' said Stevenson, madly typing at at keyboard, 'this generator has been primed. The rest of Mars' relays will be critical in several minute's time'

'Great work,' said Huxley, 'the alarms will be going off soon, if we hurry--'

Everything exploded.

The air became fire, pressing us against the floor. Stabbing pain washed over my ribcage like sodium hydroxide on flesh.'

'Did you really think you could outsmart me, Rutherford?' Winthrop removed his helmet, revealing a over-ripened plum trailing into several chins. It was unclear as to how his flabular torso could compresse into an exosuit.

'It's been a noble effort,' he continued, 'but I'm afraid to say that your miserable adventure has come to an end.'

O'Harris, roaring, threw himself against Winthrop. A henchman intersected, hammered him down to the floor. Dimitriev was just about to follow suit when Rutherford stopped him with an outstretched arm.

More Interstellar goons flooded into the room, holding bulky and menacing weapons. Red-dot sights were poised like neon-chicken pox above our vital organs.

Winthrop sneered. 'It's a shame that we've resorted savagery, but you've left me with no other options, Rutherford. If only you'd agreed to my proposition all those years ago. Just think of what we could have achieved!

'You of all people should understand understand the importance of this technology. The entire System, instantly connected by a eight thousand relays! Just think of the implications!'

Winthrop's expression darkened. He placed his boot over O'Harris' hand and stomped down hard. O'Harris cried out in pain; Winthrop smiled. 'Instead of connecting the entire System, you locked our discovery in cage, hiding it away from the world. You halted humanity's progress in the name of useless, mindless creatures, incapable of anything but singing.'

'They're in pain, Winthrop,' said Rutherford, 'don't you see how much suffering the interference causes? The antiwave cannot be used by us, not like this.'