TravelingDreamer
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B6—Chapter 10: Sleeping Beauty in Mild-to-Moderate Distress
🕑 Added 2025-03-27 15:55:54 +0000 UTCI tried to focus on the DNA book, but my eyes kept skimming over the same lines without absorbing a thing. Mahya had been gone for at least three or four hours—maybe more—and I couldn’t shake the feeling that a meeting with an information broker shouldn’t take this long.
Al glanced over again. Same furrowed brow, same tight jaw. The worry in his face mirrored mine.
Mahya was capable, no question about it. Smart and strong, she could fight her way out of a mess if she had to. However, my gut still wouldn't settle.
And then there was Rue, waiting alone in the room. A room that was registered under Mahya’s ID. If anything went sideways, if someone flagged the ID or tried to access it, Rue might be in danger. That thought made my stomach twist a little tighter.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I connected to Al’s mind and sent, “I’m going to check on Rue.”
Al gave a slight nod and didn’t argue. The tension in his posture said enough—he was just as on edge as I was.
I waved my screen in front of the door lock. Nothing.
Frowning, I opened the ID app and tried again. Still no response.
Just to be thorough, I even brought up the money window and gave that a shot. Still a no-go.
Shit.
Mahya registered the room under her ID. She hadn’t added us, or maybe she couldn’t. Either way, we were locked out.
I stood there for a moment, debating whether to hang around in case someone—or more likely something—came by to check on the room. But the longer I stood in that hallway, staring at a locked door like an idiot, the more pointless it felt. Eventually, I turned and headed back to the café, hands shoved deep into my pockets, shoulders tight. Al sat where I’d left him, the library screen closed.
He looked up the moment he saw me, brows raised in silent question.
“I can’t open the door,” I said, dropping into the chair across from him. “The room’s in Mahya’s name only.”
Al leaned forward slightly. “Should we go look for her?”
I shook my head, rubbing the back of my neck. “I have no idea where.”
“We can locate her by feeling.”
“Yeah, but this place is massive,” I said, gesturing vaguely around us. “I don’t know what your range is, but I can feel a Traveler from a few hundred meters, not more.”
Al’s lips pressed into a thin line. His gaze drifted to the side, then returned to meet mine. “My range is more limited.”
We sat in silence for a moment, both of us staring at each other, uncertain.
Al sat up straighter, shoulders squaring. “I shall remain here in case Mahya returns. You ought to look for her. Given your broader range, you are more likely to sense her presence. If you return and find me gone, check near our room or on the rest of the terrace by feeling. I shall not leave it.”
I nodded, reopened the Transit icon, and studied the map.
From the central square—an open area nearly two kilometers across—twelve spokes fanned outward toward the edges of the habitat. Each pair of spokes had a dedicated tram line. The trams traveled outward along one spoke, turned left at the end, and came back down the neighboring spoke, forming a loop.
There was also a separate tram that circled the entire outer edge of the habitat.
I zoomed in on the map. The lines closer to the outer rim were spaced far apart, with broad gaps between them. It looked like I would need to pass through the connecting corridors between spokes to investigate thoroughly and not miss anything.
I headed to the bathroom first, checked for cameras, and once I was sure there were none, I turned invisible and waited.
It took a while, but eventually, a man walked in, followed by two more, and then one more. The best was that they all left within seconds of each other. I slipped out after them, staying close, hoping that any watchers of the café’s cameras would be too distracted to notice that I never left.
I flew up and circled the terrace.
Flying here felt different, off somehow. There was a resistance, as if the world itself didn’t want me to use magic. That was the only way I could describe it, like pushing through something thick and unwilling. And it drained more mana than usual. A lot more.
I really hoped I would find Mahya soon. My only real options for regenerating were either inside my house or by heading back to the Gate we’d come through—and doing that without them felt wrong. Risky. Who knew what might happen if I went back alone?
I did a quick flyover of all five terraces and the central square, but didn’t feel her anywhere.
Navigating the square was an exercise in aerial acrobatics, dodging between floating screens and flying platforms while avoiding contact with anything. I managed it, more or less, though I did clip the edge of one screen. The image on it glitched for a split second before returning to normal.
The trams surprised me. I’d been expecting something like a subway. Perhaps sleeker and more modern, but still essentially a subway. This was nothing like that. The trams were enormous transparent spheres. At first glance, they appeared to be glass, but my mana sense insisted they were metal. I had no idea how they managed to pull that off.
Inside each sphere, two rows of seats curved along the inner wall, one directly in front of the other, both facing inward. In the center stood a waist-high pedestal, glowing faintly. Each time someone entered, they tapped their screen against it and took a seat.
I considered flying instead, skimming through the tunnels, but the spheres filled the entire space, wall to wall and floor to ceiling. There was no room for me to squeeze through.
The sphere filled up fast, and at the last second, I zoomed through the door and hovered near the ceiling.
Then it launched. It didn’t glide. Well, it did—but at a speed more like a bullet fired from a gun.
That’s when I discovered a small, painful oversight.
Because I wasn’t sitting, or anchored in any way, but just hovering, when the sphere moved... I didn’t.
Turned out inertia is a thing. I smacked into the back of the shell like a bug on a windshield.
Luckily for me, the distance between where I’d been and where I splat-landed was under ten meters. No blood—just bruised pride and a newfound appreciation for seatbelts. A few people looked up. Unfortunately, invisibility did little to muffle the sound of someone smacking into a wall. But with nothing to see, they eventually looked back down.
Phew.
I stayed plastered to the upper curve of the rear wall and let the sphere carry me forward. At each stop, I hovered so I wouldn’t slide down the wall, but stayed glued to it. Lesson learned.
It had numerous stops along the way. But even with all of them—and there were over fifty—the tram completed a full circuit in under half an hour. Considering the outer edge of the habitat was at least thirty kilometers from the central square, that was an impressive speed between stops.
I couldn’t help snickering during the first few stops. The sphere halted on a dime. One moment it blasted forward at a million miles a minute; the next it was utterly still, not even a wobble. At each station, people practically launched themselves through the doors, either diving out or shoving their way in as if the tram might take off again with them still halfway through. On second thought, maybe that is precisely why they threw themselves in and out like that. I stopped snickering.
It took me hours to cover the entire floor using the trams, the ones running along the spokes and the one circling the outer edge, but I didn’t feel Mahya anywhere. Before switching to the passages between the tram lines, I headed back to check in with Al, just in case Mahya had returned.
On the way, I checked my mana.
2,162/13,400
Wow!
Flying had never drained me this much before. Usually, it was almost free, just a trickle of mana. But this place was sucking me dry.
I rose to the terrace and reached out with my senses. Al was still in the café. I didn’t go in. Instead, I sent a quick message through the link. “Any news?”
“No.”
I veered off toward the Gate. Risk or no risk, with my mana burning this fast, I had to top off the tank before I could continue. Remembering what had happened the day before, I activated Stealth to avoid attracting the bots. My mana drained even faster.
This time, I opened my Map. After all the zigzagging I had done through the habitat, it should have updated by now. Sure enough, I found that the Gate we had come through was pretty close to the tram line, and there was even a stop nearby. Great. Time for another stint as a bug on a windshield.
In Zindor, it was raining. Hard. I got soaked in under a minute.
I scanned the area until I spotted a tree with extra-thick foliage and hovered under it. No way I was going to land in that mud. The branches gave some cover, but not enough. The rain still found its way through, dripping through the leaves and soaking me even more. Not that it mattered at this point. I was already drenched.
I crossed my fingers and hoped the time skip wouldn’t be too extreme. The second that thought crossed my mind, a pit opened in my stomach.
What if a couple of hours here are a couple of days there?
I tried to regenerate as fast as I could, sucking in deep lungfuls of mana-rich air, and nearly blacked out from what was basically semi-hyperventilation. When my mana reached 6,000, I figured it would do for now and crossed back to the moon.
Before continuing the search for Mahya, I went to check in with Al. Unfortunately, I couldn’t take the tram this time. I was dripping wet.
Still, flying through the corridors at top speed and following the Map, it only took me about forty minutes to reach him. I could have made it in less, but had to reroute a few times to avoid dripping water on any bots and giving myself away. Once I dried off a bit, I switched to the shortest route and flew straight through.
He was still in the café. I connected to him telepathically and asked, “I went to the Gate to regenerate, and was about an hour on the other side. How long did it pass here?”
“Less than an hour. Why did you need to regenerate?”
“For some reason, flying here sucks the mana right out of me. Any news?”
“No.”
It had taken me about fifteen minutes to reach the Gate and forty to get back, so the time skip was on the Zindor side. That was good news.
“I’m going to regenerate fully, and then continue looking. If she comes back, collect Rue and cross the Gate to Zindor. I’ll check the marker once we’re all safe and together.”
“Will do.”
This time, it wasn’t raining. The ground wasn’t exactly dry, but it wasn’t the muddy mess it had been before. That confirmed it—the skip was definitely on the Zindor side.
Relieved and a little less stressed about lost time, I regenerated fully, then crossed back to the moon and checked in with Al. Still no news.
Back to my search.
While searching through the connecting corridors, I passed by and peeked into some interesting places.
One room looked like a cross between a laboratory and a server farm—glass panels revealed rows of creatures suspended in fluid, each one housed in its own transparent cube. Blue monitors flickered with streams of data, and a low humming filled the space.
Farther down, I hovered past a door marked Level 6 and glimpsed a sealed chamber bathed in cold light. Thick cables ran across the floor, snaking between ports and panels. Two bulky machines stood by the far wall, pulsing faint orange something behind protective glass. Even after watching it for over a minute, I still couldn’t figure out what they were doing there, or what the orange thing even was.
Another corridor opened into a clean, almost decorative hall—curved metal, polished to a shine, with ambient lighting and a wide circular chamber at the far end. It felt like a waiting area, or a transition point, or something. What was strange was that it was too clean to be unused, but empty.
During this exploratory stretch, I had to store a few bots. That, of course, triggered the alarm just like before—but I didn’t stick around for the reinforcements. I hightailed it out of the area. With Stealth active, most of them couldn’t sense me. But one specific model was different. They looked sleeker, more advanced, and unfortunately, they could detect me.
The regular models were bare-frame units with exposed joints, visible wiring, and hydraulic lines running along the limbs. They didn’t appear to have visual sensors beyond a single unit mounted on their head. Their torsos had a screen displaying diagnostics or status information, and the entire build appeared to be designed for ease of maintenance over protection. They moved with jerky, unrefined motions. If they saw you, they responded. If not, they ignored you and kept patrolling the corridors.
The advanced models were entirely different. Fully enclosed. Smooth, white plating covered every surface, hiding the mechanics underneath. Joints were compact and shielded. Their heads were shaped like helmets with a glowing orange visor that pulsed faintly. No visible sensors. Their movements were fluid, like those of a living person, quiet even at full stride. When they turned, it looked natural. When they stopped, they held their position with perfect balance. They didn’t sweep the area like the regulars. They tracked. Directly. And once they locked onto me despite Stealth being active, I had to store them and leave. Fast.
After over two hours, I felt Mahya.
I was in a narrow corridor—Sector 4, judging by the markings. The walls were solid metal, with sealed compartments and dull lighting that hummed softly overhead. Everything here looked the same, and it made orientation a pain. It took me a while to pinpoint her location. Her presence was faint, as if she were far away or somehow shielded. I hovered slowly, backtracking twice to make sure I wasn’t misreading the feeling.
The door I finally zeroed in on was locked, but it wasn’t a problem. I channeled a bit of mana into every symbol along the frame. I had no idea what the opening mechanism was, so I just hit them all and hoped for the best.
With a soft hiss, it slid open.
The room beyond was a high-tech lab—clean, clinical, and packed with equipment. Blue and purple lights glowed from strange devices I couldn’t begin to name. Rows of vials, tubes, and unfamiliar machinery lined the walls. This place didn’t look like a place where they kept prisoners. It looked like a place where they dissected them. Three bots disappeared into my Storage without raising the alarm.
Phew!
The room had three doors—one I came through and two more on the opposite wall. I didn’t waste time guessing. I fried both. Behind one was a glowing chamber lined with pods. Rows of upright capsules, softly lit from within. All of them were empty.
The other door led to a small, sterile chamber filled with coiled cables and dull metal panels. A single capsule sat in the center, sealed tight, surrounded by control panels I didn’t bother to investigate.
Mahya was inside the capsule, snoozing like the sleeping beauty—or a sleeping pain in my butt.
But… she was our pain in the butt. So I overloaded the capsule’s lock with a surge of mana. It hissed as the mechanism disengaged, but the lid didn’t open on its own. Of course not. I had to pry it open manually.
As soon as it cracked, a rush of steam billowed out, curling around my legs and spreading across the floor like the start of a bad sci-fi movie. The lid finally gave with a loud, slow groan, dramatic enough to be annoying. My head felt strange, like it was full of cotton and my thoughts slowed. I immediately cast Neutralize Poison twice. It did the job, but cost me a crazy amount of mana. I didn't check my profile, no time for that, but felt the rush of mana down my channels. This world was sucking me dry.
Right on cue, an alarm started blaring from the wall. Obviously, it couldn’t have gone smoothly.
I checked Mahya quickly. She was drugged but otherwise fine. No injuries or weird implants. I cast Neutralize Poison to flush the sedative out of her system, and a few seconds later, her eyes snapped open.
She flailed her hands and smacked me right in the eye.
“Ouch!”
She bolted upright and flung herself at me in a hug. She missed, smacked me on the ear, and nearly toppled over. I caught her mid-fall and held on before she could do any more damage—either to herself or to me.
“What happened?” I asked, keeping a firm grip so she wouldn’t take out my nose next.
“The information broker sold information about me,” she mumbled, still groggy. “When I got there, two of those white bots were already waiting. Next thing I know, you said ‘ouch.’”
I cast another Neutralize Poison. Her breathing evened out, and she looked more focused. Good.
Two bots burst into the room. Both vanished into my Storage the moment they crossed the threshold. Two more followed. Then another two.
The machines and monitors were still active, glowing softly. I took a breath, focused, and sent a pulse of mana outward, sending silent thanks to Lis and the dragon for telling me to train my mana sense. I’d ignored most of that advice, but I did know how to spread my mana wide to do this part.
The entire room went pitch black.
“Let’s get out of here,” Mahya said in a clipped tone.
“I’m with you on that one.”
We moved out fast, Invisibility and Stealth engaged. I had to store a few more bots along the way—both bare-frame and the white-plated nuisances—as we slipped through the lab and down the following two corridors. After that, it was easier.
After a few minutes, I couldn’t help myself. “I’m having a hard time deciding," I said telepathically.
“About what?”
“Whether you’re Sleeping Beauty or the classic damsel in distress.”
Despite being still invisible, she unerringly kicked my leg.
I stumbled for a step, muttered something unrepeatable, and recovered. “Ow. Okay, fair. But hear me out—maybe you’re Snow White? You did end up in a glass coffin.”
I flew a little ahead, just in case.
“Or maybe Fiona from Shrek? I mean, you’re brown instead of green, but who cares about minor details, right?”
“I will kill you dead,” she said in the sweetest tone I have ever heard from her.
“How can you kill your heroic Prince Charming who just saved you from eternal sleep and captivity?”
“I’ll catch you and kick your butt so hard you won’t be able to sit for months.”
I snorted. “So... Rapunzel? The braids edition?”
She didn’t respond. Not a word. Somehow, that silence was way scarier than the threats.
After a minute, I felt her hand on my arm, and she hugged me. "Thank you."
"Always."
Comments
Angela Roberts
Whew, glad she wasn't in a worse situation. This planet completely sucks
Obran
Figured it was either information brokers sold her off, or she tried to steal a spaceship and got caught.
