"Here it is," Celli said, pointing to the right of the wall-screen, "M-57 -- The Belemer Lake area."
Orion looked carefully at the map display. "Can you find the craters around the lake?"
Celli tapped on the keypad. "Here's one: Raliog Crater Lake."
"No, no, it's much smaller, and it's not filled with water... at least in my dream it wasn't."
Celli scanned the info-line. "Oh, here's something... a list of the dry craters in the Belemer Lake area... visitors info... here's the Crystal Caves... Mushroom Gardens... what else?"
Orion twisted his lips to one side. "I don't think it was any of these commonly visited ones. It was surrounded by forest, and quite small; I'd say about thirty to thirty-five relons in diameter."
"Well... that is pretty small," Celli said looking back to the wall screen. "Any of these are many times that size."
"What about something from the geo-mapping link?" Fel offered.
Celli nodded, glad for this new direction. "Let's give it a try." She worked through the options. "Wow!" She exclaimed. "Look at this!" She punched in a command and over fifty purple dots became visible on the screen.
"Whoa," Fel exclaimed, "that's a lot of craters."
"Well, that's the whole of sector M-57," Celli explained. "We just need subsection SY-113." She hit a few more keys. "Here we are... seventeen craters in SY-113, that's the immediate area around the lake. These larger ones are the ones we already looked at, so that leaves fourteen."
"Is there a way to have their diameter displayed?" Orion asked.
"Let me see..." more tapping, "yeah, here it is... Okay," she sounded satisfied with her work, "that's pretty clear."
"You're amazing Celli," Orion complimented her. "That is very good."
Celli blushed. "Well," she deflected the compliment, turning to Fel, "that was a good call with the geo-mapping."
"Dunno where that came from," he said, "probably something I saw at work."
Orion was already busy studying the craters. South. His finger trailed to the bottom of the map. "I think it might be this one here," he said with his finger on the screen.
Celli came over to look.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure."
Celli looked up at him, then back to the map. "Then let's go find it," she said quietly.
Orion looked at her nervously.
"What?" she asked.
"Guys," Orion said as he made his way back to his seat on the couch, "do you remember the other dreams I told you about?" Fel and Celli nodded. "Do you remember the scary parts?" They nodded again. "Well... in the last two dreams I... I felt that there was something... bad... evil; something that was connected to the sphere – maybe protecting it; maybe it didn't want me to find out what was inside... if there is anything there at all," Orion chuckled nervously. "If the sphere is even real." Both boys laughed quietly.
Orion grew serious once again. "Look, I don't know what it is, but if the sphere is really out there, then maybe this scary thing is out there too." Orion paused for a moment and they sat in silence, trying to imagine what this could mean. Orion went on. "In the dream, when I found the sphere in the cave," his expression altered as he re-lived his dream, "when I tried to pick it up... this... this monster... like some deformed swamp reglar just... jumped out at me," he raised his hands for emphasis.
Fel laughed. "That's good, very dramatic."
"Fel, I'm serious," Orion said. "I'm telling you this so that if you have second thoughts, we can call this off."
"Swamp reglars don't live in caves," Fel pointed out. "Anyways, they're scared of people."
"Yeah, I hope so; but if we're taking this journey on account of my dreams, then this was part of my dream too."
"I'll take my chances," Fel said casually.
Orion looked at Celli.
"I'm still in."
Orion took a deep breath. "Ok, I guess we'll see what happens."
***
They managed to borrow camping gear from friends. They wore their sturdy work boots and carried backpacks loaded with the things they thought they might need for the four day trip.
"I still can't believe I'm actually doing this," Celli said as they passed through the com-gate.
Fel smiled regretfully. "I should have done something like this a long time ago. I guess I just never had a good enough reason."
They arrived at the platform and waited for the next mag-train. The station was mostly empty, the morning rush having ended two hours earlier. Movement caught Orion's eye as he looked down the mag-way track. "Fel, Celli, look!" He whispered and pointed. A small hiebra-luren crawled out of a hole in the wall, looked directly at them, wiggled its whiskers, then crossed the track and disappeared underneath the platform. "Did you see that?" Orion asked.
"Yeah," they chorused.
"I've never seen one in the mag-way before," Celli remarked.
"Me neither," said Fel. "Weird eyes, huh? Big eyes."
The hiebra-luren did exist after all. Watching the small creature with greenish-brown fur and bright yellow eyes brought back disturbing emotions. Orion's dream-experience flashed in his mind as strongly as the gut feeling in the game. He felt his heart rate increase and his head became light. This is it, he thought, I'm going to have an episode right her on the platform. I hope Fel and Celli don't allow other people to see me in that state. If I get put in a sanatorium... The pilot sensed the now familiar feeling of weightlessness begin to spread through his body - a puppet on strings. He wanted to say something. He could see Fel and Celli beside him, but they were blurry, out of focus. He couldn't control his tongue, he couldn't warn them. This is it.
At that moment the train shot out of the tunnel and whispered into the station. The blast of air struck them and Orion fell to the floor. His teammates looked down and gave him their hands.
"You OK?" Fell asked.
Orion nodded. His fall had ended the episode. "Yeah, fine... I tripped or something... the back-pack..." He realized that they hadn't sensed anything out of the ordinary, and he was grateful.
The train came to a stop. The hundreds of grav-repellers on the underside of the transport emitted a comforting low-pitched hum which was only audible when the station wasn't crowded. "I guess this is our train," Fel said, "any last thoughts?" They looked at each other, boarded the train and propped their packs against a free spot along the wall.
They rode the L-18 line for twelve stops, then switched to the K-3 line which took them to the south-east edge of the com-zone. They decided to skip the next two connections and walk part of the way to the agri-zone transport dock. This would be faster than looping around and switching lines. The walk to the dock would only take ten minutes.
They walked down the platform as a train came into the station from the opposite direction. People exited and entered and the train whispered into the tunnel, heading north-west for the three hearts of Kypro: Rez-Teneo, Mech-Teneo and Cal-Teneo - which were also the brains - fused into a single organ, they were responsible for the life and health of the mighty city called Kypro.
There, the three Principal Towers were rooted deep in the ground - connected to all districts by fine tendrils that entered every building, watched every street, monitored and controlled sky traffic, were aware of all chip-transactions, turned a blind eye to the excesses and deviance that helped to manage the citizens, keeping them in a state of compliance.
The Towers were connected to all of the agri-zones; nothing grew without their knowledge, nothing happened which they did not sense. The Towers were the tallest buildings in Kypro; the Com watched from above as well as from below, allowing the Order almost complete control of its environment.
The Com had long arms. The arms were thick and strong and they had a name: the Qonaar. If there was a blip on the radar the Qonaar were informed. They investigated. If they did not like what they found they rendered effective service. To oppose the Qonaar in the reach of the com-zone was suicide - unless one were very resourceful, very creative.
There were, however, places where the Qonaar would not go: The Canyons of the Poles, the Brech-Taal and Merinor highlands, Zone ZL-31 in the asteroid belt - the belt which encircled their planet along with their six moons. The Qonaar allowed the cartels and Bosses and pirates to control these places, with the understanding that they keep to their territory and leave the com-zones to the Order. In most cases the arrangement was mutually beneficial.
The vast nervous systems of the com-zones, which had had their humble beginnings four hundred years earlier, were now dominant and indestructible. New Ophilion humans were connected at birth - a com-chip inserted into their shoulder. No one questioned the Order; no one opposed the Com - they had always been there - they would always be there. There was no alternative system. All one hundred thrity-eight com-zones on Ophilion were in lock-step.
The mrith team climbed the dusty stairs leading from the mag-way platform into a building with a high ceiling. Long, narrow windows set into the walls above their heads, grimy in the extreme, allowed a dim glow from Hanthran, casting the spacious mag-way entrance in a dingy half-light. They stopped to look around them. This was a different world - an ancient world, it seemed, but still populated by modern people. The incongruity of the grandeur of the architecture and the squalid feel of the place disoriented them and made them stare.
This was the district Kumplan-4 - where Keneso had once lived. They had abandoned it over three hundred years earlier when all Keneso moved to the north of Kypro. This place was left to the Cholan that slowly sifted to the bottom of the tank. Keneso still visited Kumplan on a regular basis, but not for business. There were unique attractions there.
The three teenagers began moving again. They walked through the gaps in the wall where massive hard-wood doors must once have opened to admit the elite. Parts of the door frames were still there, decrepit wood that still bore the marks of quality craftsmanship.
They passed the thick stone walls and exited the station, descending three wide steps to street level. The com-zone was different here. The buildings were much lower than the ones in their district; they were much older too, and had not been renovated regularly. The mineral panels forming the façades were streaked with rust and dirt, many were chipped; some were missing altogether, shamefully exposing the pipes and cables within.
The streets were filthy; It seemed the sanitation crews rarely visited Kumplan-4. Piles of debris had collected around derelict transports and abandoned storefronts. The people looked different. Many of them were idle – standing by themselves or in small groups, apparently doing nothing, or perhaps waiting for someone; waiting for business. Most of the transports on the street were old and in need of repair; some of them rested directly on the ground, their grav-repellers nonfunctional. There were, however, a few high-end, late-model sky transports parked along the street. They seemed oddly out of place.
Against the muted grays and browns of the scene a few points of bright color caught their attention. Small signs made with poly-plastic in white and yellow and pink, neon blue and deep black. The signs were clipped to shop doors and the sides of transports. Some were fastened to jackets or hats or propped on the ground near people leaning against the wall. Celli hadn't a clue as to the nature of these objects. Orion had a pretty good idea. Fel knew exactly what they were, and he had a feeling that it would have been better to have spent more time looping around on the mag-way. But they were on the street now and he felt it would be cowardly to turn back.
The three factory workers looked out of place in Kumplan-4; they felt out of place too. Orion scanned the street for someone who might be able to direct them to the dock. He spotted an older man leaning against the wall up ahead. He seemed to be bleached by chemicals. His eyes were practically colorless, his skin was almost transparent and his dermal markings were barely visible. "He looks like he could help," Orion said optimistically. Celli frowned.
"Hi," Orion addressed the man in a friendly tone. The man didn't respond. "We're looking for the BR-2 agri-zone transport dock," Orion continued, undeterred. The man looked them over suspiciously and thrust his chin out in the direction of a large building a few blocks away. Orion turned to look, then thanked the man, who remained silent, staring at them with colorless eyes.
They lugged their backpacks down the street. Orion glanced back at the man who continued to watch the unlikely trio. "Not a very nice place," Orion whispered.
"Yeah," Fel said quietly, "wouldn't want to get caught here after dark. Maybe some of those stories we heard weren't so far-fetched after all."
Celli stayed close to the boys as they trudged down the street toward the transport bay. This building had been built since the Keneso had left the district: it had none of the grace and style of the dilapidated buildings they had passed on their way from the mag-way entrance. The transport dock looked like a giant, glorified warehouse - all right angles and metal beams and gray mineral panels; small windows high up on the walls - windows made for minimal required ventilation.
The trio entered the dock and made their way to an information booth. Inside the booth sat a middle-aged lady with what looked like a permanent scowl etched into her face.
"Uh, we're here for the 5 and 10 transport to Yalam Center?" Orion said, not so confidently. What he had meant as a statement sounded like a question.
The lady's scowl seemed to deepen, as if having to divulge information to customers gave her great displeasure. "Do you have reservations?" she asked in a raspy voice.
Orion felt like a criminal being cross examined. "Um, no... I mean, we didn't know that we had to."
"Well," the lady looked at them from her position as judge of the transport dock, "sometimes the transport is full, that's why it's better to have a reservation. Today, however, it is not full." She glared at them. "Platform twelve, section three." She had pronounced them 'not guilty', and thus worthy of traveling on her transport.
"Oh, okay... thanks," Orion said as respectfully as possible, as if to upset her might reverse her ruling.
They quickly walked to the entrance marked 'SECTION 3', and headed for platform twelve. "There it is," Fel said with relief.