Archive for September, 2010

Dream Colony II

Posted in Fiction on September 16, 2010 by GuNNhead

“Warning: The station will run out of oxygen in approximately 20 minutes. This is not a test.”

I walked through the door to see my neighbors had already gone into an all out panic mode, the couches and beds were stacked up in the center of the room.

“You two wait here, I’m gunna see what’s up for a sec.”
It seemed like they had a plan, so I scrambled up the mattresses, the owner of the house was sitting near the top as his family and friends climbed around.

“What are you doing?”
“We don’t know; we’re trying to get into the ceiling vent. I can’t believe they sealed us all in here, dying in a space colony due to lack of oxygen on earth. It’s insanity, I respond in kind.”
I saw in his eyes that the last part rang too true, and climbed down.

“Anything?” seeing the exchange had made my friends uncomfortable.
“Let’s head back,” it was all the answer they needed.

“Warning: The station will run out of oxygen in approximately 15 minutes. This is not a test.”

Back in the apartment, the place was a mess from looking for the book.
“Anything?”
“No. You?”
“Nope.”
“Dang, what now?”
The drinks we had were helping us deal with this. Perhaps, looking back, we were a slight too calm.
“You said you say a super in here earlier.”
“Maybe.”
“Well, I’m finding out what the hell they do, and where he went.”
“He might have gone out the front door and no one saw him!”
“She’s right.”
“I don’t care, I know something’s up.”
“Why don’t we all just evacuate?”
“If we could, we wouldn’t need air.”

“Warning: The station will run out of oxygen in approximately 10 minutes. This is not a test.”

“…Makes sense, let’s look around.”
“We’ll check the back, c’mon.”
“Sounds good, I wanna see what’s behind this panel up there.” I’d had my eye on this panel for a little while now, it was a large one, about two square feet, and looked hollow last time I saw it open out of the corner of my eye when one of the supers was fiddling around inside of it. It was just below the ceiling of the circular entry/living room. I climbed onto the couch, and onto a small second-tier ledge. Now, how do they open these? I thought to myself. I’d started to get a good mind hold of how I’d go about opening it when I heard a call from the other room.

“Hey, we–”
“Warning: The station will run out of oxygen in approximately 5 minutes. This is not a test.”
“What?”
“I said, hey, we think we found something!”
“Well, what is it?”
“A panel in the back of the master bedroom!”
“Did you get it open?”
“Uhh…”
“I think you just push it, get a grip with your fingers, and it could just pop right off,” I shouted while I tested this theory with my panel.
“It works!” they shouted. It worked.
“What’d you guys find?”
“A lot of gizmos and circuitry, a small hallway, sealed by debris.”
“We’re all gunna die here!” was the only clear shout I could hear from someone from the other room.
“Don’t worry guys, I found something here. There’s a path, it’s narrow, but it’s something.”

“Warning: The station is out of oxygen. This is not a test.”

Dream Colony I

Posted in Fiction, Sci-Fi on September 14, 2010 by GuNNhead

The first full space colony was built on earth. Seems simple enough, I thought, a social experiment, mostly, test self-sufficiency, being completely sealed off, using nor needing nothing from the earth’s atmosphere. We were told that the materials used would even be able to survive on other planets, everything built to accommodate zero-g, if needed. It was a city that could be transported as a whole to a new world. I immediately signed my family up, and because of our wide, mixed range of ages and backgrounds, we were actually accepted.

The living quarters were nice, sleek and functional. Everyone had enough space, it never seemed cramped, but it was full. The entire ‘neighborhood’ (it felt more like an apartment complex) was very friendly, and had a great sense of community. We immediately made friends right next door, and all over. The selection process, I felt, was done very well. Every so often an engineer would stop by, and run little checks on things or whatever it was they did, we started to nickname them ‘the supers’, because they really gave off the vibe of superintendants. They all wore the same white jumpsuits, most were quiet and kept to themselves, which was fine by us, and others were kindly enough, with the occasional chit chat or banter in between their mystery tasks. Mostly they went unnoticed.

One night, we had some of our friends over for a small get-together, about 10 people in all. After a few drinks and a lot of laughs, we hear an announcement of the mass communication systems.

“Warning: The station will run out of oxygen in approximately 30 minutes. This is not a test.”
The room went silent with panic.
“Maybe it IS a test,” I said.
“Or a drill?” posed Jen, a hopeful party member.
“Yeah, the engineers should be around shortly to do, uh, something, right?” asked Pen, clearly too drunk to properly rationalize, not that I was much better.
“I saw a super come in here earlier… I don’t think I saw him leave, did anyone see him leave?” offered my sister.

Everyone paused in thought.

“No?”
“Don’t think so…”
“I didn’t even see a super come in.”
“I just got here.”
Others shrugged or shook their heads negatively. If he was here, he probably didn’t leave.

“Warning: The station will run out of oxygen in approximately 25 minutes. This is not a test.”

“What do we do?”
“Well, aren’t red lights supposed to flash or some warning siren happen?”
“Why didn’t any of us pay attention during the readiness training?”
“There was readiness training?”
“Yeah, like, the first day.”
“Lotta good that does us now, six years later!”
“No matter, I’ll just go next door, and see if they remember anything, or know what’s going on, or remember where their manuals are. Simple”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Fine, everyone else: relax, try to look for the colony handbook, maybe there’s something in there about this.”

I entered into the hallway.
“Hey, there’re those red warning lights!”
“Not comforting.”
People ran by in a panic as I went to the door across the wide hall. No supers. I opened the door, and went inside.