SmackDown: Back to Our Roots

Round 5: There is No Air in Space - @painebook

"Once the Europeans developed plague-resistant grains, the need for platforms decreased. However, our government decided to keep the production and operation of orbital farms on schedule. One never knows when another plague might breakout, so we need to be ready to feed our people."

I guess I looked at too many conspiracy websites. Maybe the government runs the platforms, but the big corporation that built them is making tons of money. Even though we may not need them, production is making the stockholders very rich.

"Lesson two. It's tough out here. The real enemy is boredom. After six months of confinement, people tend to snap. We've had fights and at least twenty confirmed murders. One farmer decided he was close enough to fly back to earth. He opened both airlocks in the docking port. The decompression killed everything on the platform, but the globe remained intact. You know there's no air in space, so don't think that what he did is an option."

I shivered as I thought about having the air sucked out of my lungs. Maybe I should have taken the jail time.

"The space authority re-crewed, replanted and put it back in operation in less than a week. After that incident, tours were limited to thirteen months, with a one-month rest and relaxation break at the half-year mark."

"Then why am I here for two years?" Shit! The shock nearly caused me to break a tooth or two.

"You chose your path. I have no control over the tour length. I will monitor you closely. The Space Authority informed me that I can terminate your contract any time I feel you are a threat to the platform."

Double Shit. "I promise to be a model worker." I braced for the shock that didn't come this time.

"You'd better be. It's a long walk back to Earth." A short laugh crackled in the speaker. "Remember what I say. There's no air in space."

"I know that." Damn. The shock made me wet my pants.

"What I mean is you toe the line, or you'll have to leave." She snickered. "The airlock works both ways. Screw up and I'll eject you into space."

An oppressive silence filled the chamber. After twenty minutes, the airlock opened. Two armed soldiers waited at the opening, waving for me to get up. The taller of the two looked me up and down. He prodded me with his shock baton. It hurt like hell.

"Names Bastion. Mister Bastion to you." He waved the baton at his partner. "This one's Carson. Get up and follow the lighted path."

They fell in behind me as I walked down the corridor. This is going to be a tough two years.

The guards slowed as we neared the end of the hallway. An automatic door opened to reveal a dressing room. Five exo-suits hung on racks, three on one side, two on the other.

"Hang yours in the empty space, then put the ankle bracelet on." The tall guard pointed his weapon in my general direction. "And don't do anything stupid."

After removing the suit, I picked up the monitoring device. "Does it matter if it's left or right?"

"Not to me, but if you try to tamper with it, you'll lose the foot it's on." Mister Bastion's face showed me he wasn't lying.

What in the fuck did I get myself into here? "Thanks for the info. I never liked my left foot anyhow." Setting my foot on the bench, I snapped the anklet on. The connection glowed as the ends fused together, raising blisters on my leg. "Shit, that's hot."

Both guards hit me with their batons, causing me to fall to the floor. They laughed as they backed out of the cubicle. Once the door closed, the opposite one opened. I gaped as the entrance filled with a huge figure.