Andrew Mackay - Pink Symphony

“Is that so?” Bonnie lifted her metal leg and placed her foot on the seat. She unraveled her pants leg across her shin and wiggled her metal toes around. “I lost my leg in a vehicle accident, before they abolished flying cars.”

“No. You didn’t. USARIC programmed you to think you did.”

Bonnie didn’t believe a word coming from her captain’s mouth. “Why would they do that?”

“To keep their options open.”

Bonnie held her right hand at the pair, dismissing their stupidity. “Shut up.”

Wool walked to the N-Vigorate chamber door. “We don’t have much time, Bonnie. We need your help—”

The stripped lights stretching across the ceiling dipped in and out as the walls began to rumble.

Concerned, Wool looked up and around her immediate vicinity, “What’s that?”

“Seems Manuel’s got the engine working.”

Bonnie walked into the middle of the room and scanned the harshly-lit walls. She closed her eyes and inhaled. “Are we still lost?”

“Yes,” Tripp said.

The humming from the power behind the walls underscored Bonnie’s recollection of events. “The last thing I remember was a pink gas. My eyes went funny. Anderson rescued us,” her speaking slowed, remembering something vital. “Tor. Baldron. They tried to kill us.”

Tripp raised his eyebrows, curious that Bonnie had remembered. “That’s right. You remember?”

“Anderson,” Bonnie added, feeling a sense of protectiveness. “Where is she?”

Wool wasted no time in hurrying up the expedition. “That’s what we want to find out—”

The entire chamber rocked back and forth like a fairground ride. Dust coughed around them from the ceiling. The near-deafening chaos and vibrations never abated.

“Jesus, what was that?” Tripp grabbed Wool in his arms and ran with her to the door, “Quick, with me.”

Bonnie twisting around on the spot and watched the far wall crack apart, shooting sifts of white and pink light through the ceramic. “What is that ?” Quick-thinking, she followed the cracks crawl up the wall and shatter the ceiling, threatening to propel a chunk of it at her face.

Whoosh .

Chunks of debris whizzed past her head. She splayed out her legs and hit the ground. It stabbed down and created a vicious dent in the ground. Just two more inches to the left and Bonnie could have been sold as scrap metal.

“Quick, get out of here,” Bonnie stomped her metal foot to the floor and propelled herself into the air, thumping rocks of falling detritus against the far wall.

Wool and Trip ran through the door, but the spectacular light show was too enthralling to run away from. Wool skidded on her heels and tugged at Tripp’s arm, forcing him to stop.

“No, wait. We can’t leave Bonnie there, we—” she couldn’t finish her sentence. The sight beyond the frame of the door was too much to handle.

“Where are you?” Bonnie screamed at the splattered, milky sky that had opened up around her. “You coming for me ? Come and get me.”

“Bonnie!” Wool wailed at her as she ran away from the door and into the beautiful sand-drenched horizon, “Bonnie, come back!”

“What the hell is going on here?” Tripp muttered as he witnessed the N-Vigorate chamber break away into nothingness. The walls smashed against the sand, kicking a wisp of saturated rock into the air.

“Manuel said we weren’t on Opera Beta,” Wool clasped Tripp’s hand and ran with him along the corridor, “I’m starting to believe him. We gotta find Jaycee, quick.”

Tripp barreled along the walkway with her, their footsteps clanging against the metal grills. He held up his left forearm and screamed into his Individimedia ink.

“Tor, this is Tripp. Do you read me?”

The black marks on his arm swirled into a “tick” shape and bled out into a black-and-white rendition of Tor’s face. “Yes, this is Tor. I read you.”

“Tor, listen. Something has happened to N-Vigorate,” he said, losing his breath while running, “We’re in danger.”

“Danger? What danger?”

“That place we saw earlier. It’s starting to appear everywhere. We think Manuel is right, we’re not on Opera Beta—”

The walls of the walkway shunted back and forth, putting a halt to Tripp’s comments, and a slight pause in progress. “Oh, wow.”

Breathless, Wool slowed down to a jog and tilted her head to the ceiling. “It’s happening again.”

“Tripp?” Tor’s voice shot out from Tripp’s arm, “What’s going on?”

SCHUNT !

A chasm split along the ceiling, shattering the material like a broken eggshell. “Run!”

Wool and Tripp wasted no time. They bolted along the corridor as the crack opened up above their heads, spilling pipework and sharp bits of ceramic all around them.

“What do I do? Tor asked from Tripp’s forearm.

He turned to the ink on his skin and kept running. “Stay where you are. Do not leave the control deck. Lock the door and await further instru—”

KERRAANG !

A lump of metal daggered through the corridor wall. Tripp yanked her forward just in time for it to avoid severing her hip. The resultant tear on her inner-suit was imminently more preferable than losing a vital organ.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, just run,” Tripp quipped as they picked up the pace, “Don’t even think about stopping.”

Wool looked over her shoulder as she quickened her pace. A dozen pipes fell across the path, blasting various liquids and gases across the walkway.

“Oh my God, we’re—”

The ceiling cracked apart like a budding rose as they turned the corner, on the path to N-Carcerate.

“Tripp, Tripp,” Wool pulled him back and pointed at the opened sky, multi-colored sky. A serene sound of ocean waves and cool air rolled around the opening.

Tripp couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His ship was breaking apart all around him like a detonated tomb with a grudge.

“Come on, no time to admire the view.” He spun around on his feet and stormed toward N-Carcerate with Wool in tow. “Jaycee! Jaycee, open the door!”

The N-Carcerate door edged closer and closer as Tripp and Wool clanged along the stern surface of the walkway. He opened out his palm and shoved his arm in front of his face, intending to slap it against the panel.

“Get ready!” he screamed, trying to outrun the metaphysical destruction erupting around them.

The door slid open before Tripp had the chance to manually open it. “Whoa!”

He pushed Wool through and darted into the room, turning on his heels and drawing the door shut by its handle.

Seriously out of breath, he placed his hands on his knees and gasped. “Ugh, no more. No more… this… is too much.”

“You okay, Tripp?” Jaycee’s voice lumbered from the other side of the room.

Tripp closed his eyes and caught his breath. At last, a reassuring voice and some confirmation that Jaycee was perfectly fine. He stood up straight and was about to speak, when he laid eyes on the giant of a man.

His face fell a few light years from his body. “Jaycee?”

“Yes, Captain. Look who woke up.”

Tripp blinked over and over again, trying to process what he saw. Wool held her hand over her mouth and gasped as she finally laid eyes on the scene. “Oh, my God.”

“Jaycee?” Tripp took a careful step forward, hoping not to attract any undue attention. “Don’t… move .”

“What are you talking about?” Jaycee knocked Baldron’s arm. The Decapidisc sat around his captive’s neck, resting heavily across his shoulders.

Of course, this was to be expected. Jaycee was never one to miss an opportunity to instill fear in people – particularly a traitor. Both he and Baldron faced Tripp and Wool. The opposite direction of the cause of concern.