TravelingDreamer
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B6—Chapter 7: Location: Experimental
🕑 Added 2025-03-23 22:39:59 +0000 UTCThank the Spirits, the next Gate was relatively close. It took us only four days to reach it, and we even had clearings to land every evening. You don’t appreciate something until it’s gone. After three days of needing to pee and being unable to land anywhere, I developed a whole new level of appreciation for forest clearings.
Mahya touched the Gate and immediately looked confused, her forehead scrunched up and mouth hanging open in a silent “wha?”
Al touched it next and tilted his head sideways, looking exactly like Rue when he was thinking hard about something.
I had to see what caused that reaction for myself.
Travelers Gate #521649252110
Destination: Ɋ-525-ɮɷ-21-Գ-52-δϨ-11-Գ
Location: Experimental
Status: Unintegrated
Technology Level: Medium
Threat Level: Moderate
I didn’t have a mirror, but I was pretty sure my expression was a mix of the two. Rue tilted his head like Al and looked at us, radiating waves of confusion through the bond.
I turned to the others. Both of them shook their heads.
Yeah, I had nothing, too.
I circled my mana. We turned invisible and crossed the Gate. The other side was a stone corridor. It was clear the passage had been mined or hewn or something—the scars of quarrying were obvious in the stone.
I looked back, and the Gate anchors were a door. Well, door was a misnomer. It was much larger than a regular door, more like a warehouse opening, but it led to another hewn corridor. Both the corridor we were in and the one beyond had a slight curvature, so we could see about two hundred meters in either direction.
Mahya exhaled a quiet, “Huh?”
“I have never encountered such a thing in my family’s archive,” Al said.
A steady metallic thumping echoed toward us. A rhythmic thump-thump-thump, unmistakably deliberate, and coming from more than one source.
Four robots came into view around the bend, walking in a diamond formation, weapons in hand. The one at the front spoke, its voice flat and mechanical. I couldn’t understand a word, too stunned to pay for the language.
It spoke again. Then all four raised their weapons.
“Back through the Gate,” Mahya half-shouted.
We turned, but they were already too close to the other side of the Gate-door—and opened fire.
Red beams lit the air. I scrambled back, just barely dodging a shot. Rue yelped. Mahya swore. Al grunted in pain.
“Let’s get out of here and circle back,” I said, trying not to panic.
We ran down the corridor, the sound of their heavy footsteps pounding behind us, closer and closer.
“How did they locate us so fast?” Al asked.
“The better question is how they saw us while invisible,” I said.
“Heat signatures,” Mahya said. “Activate Stealth. That should help us get away.”
She ran ahead, and we followed. The robots' pursuit echoed behind us, but the pounding faded after a few turns.
We didn’t slow down.
The corridor curved and split, then split again. Mahya took a left, then a sharp right, and suddenly, we found ourselves in front of a massive set of double doors. They were easily ten meters tall, sealed shut, and without handles or visible mechanisms. The metal around the frame was marked with symbols—I didn’t stop to investigate.
We turned back and sprinted down another branch. More doors lined the walls, some sealed tight, others open. I caught glimpses through the open ones—empty rooms, shelves with crates, glowing panels, metallic junk—but we didn’t stop.
The thumping behind us had stopped.
“They lost us,” I sent telepathically.
“For now,” Al said.
“Keep moving,” Mahya said. “We need distance before they recalibrate.”
“Recalibrate?” I asked.
“If they can raise their sensitivity, they might see through our Stealth.”
We slipped through one of the open doors and pulled it almost closed behind us. The room was dark, cold, and filled with humming equipment.
“This is a good place,” Mahya said. “Even if they come in here, they won’t shoot the machines. Stay invisible and continue talking only telepathically. We don’t know if they have a way to trace sound.”
Rue pressed to my leg, and I diagnosed him. Whatever those weapons were, they were bad. He had three burns on his body. But that was not all. Those beames penetrated the body and did extensive tissue damage.
It took me five casts of Healing Touch to heal him. Every time I cast, I had to stop circling my mana to allow it to exit through my hands, and I felt the mana being sucked out of me. It was highly unpleasant.
“Anybody needs healing?” I asked.
“I’m good,” Mahya said.
“I do,” Al said. “I drank a potion, but it was not enough.”
He needed two casts to be fully healed. On top of losing mana every time I stopped circulating it, the spells cost more. Even for extensive injuries, Healing Touch rarely needed over 50 mana. Now, each cast took 100.
I opened the Map to get an idea of where we were and couldn’t make heads or tails of it. There were no seas, oceans, continents, mountains, or forests—just lines going in all directions—some straight, some slightly curved, some forming rough circles that overlapped or repeated.
At first glance, it looked like a maze someone had started and then gotten bored with halfway through. The lines were organized into horizontal layers, one stacked above the next, each with a large circle in the middle and lines radiating outward like spokes from a wheel.
Every layer followed the same basic pattern: a circle in the center, lines branching out, rectangular sections filling the space between, and curving lines around the whole thing. I scrolled and zoomed in and out, but the more I looked, the more confused I got. There was no topography, sense of scale, or landmarks to orient by—just repeating circles and lines.
Three layers below us, on one spoke, a single marker stood out with ten arrows pointing at it, fanned out like a sunburst. A few layers beneath that, another Gate appeared—the only one besides the one we’d come through.
Whatever this place was, it didn’t follow any layout I’d ever seen before. The more I stared at the Map, the less sense it made. I traced the path from the Gate to our current location, then zoomed out. The area we’d covered barely registered—maybe 0.000000000001 percent of the whole place.
It was massive.
“Shit!” Mahya swore out loud.
“What?” Al asked. At least he remembered to speak telepathically.
“Look at the Map,” I said.
“Did you see the Map?” Mahya asked.
He was quiet for a minute or two, then finally said, “I do not understand.”
“Neither do I,” I admitted.
“We’re not on a planet,” Mahya said. “Asteroid, maybe? I can’t think of anything else, and that would explain the experimental location.”
“But we have oxygen and gravity,” I said.
“So?” she asked.
“How?” I asked.
“Advanced tech. Don’t stress about it. First, glamor yourself. Rue, you’ll have to stay invisible. I don’t believe they have giant dogs here, and we don’t want the robots to shoot us again. We need to locate a place to stay and then investigate the marker. I’ll walk in front of Rue, and you two walk on either side of him. Make sure nobody walks between you and discovers him. Even after the glamor, don’t drop Invisibility or Stealth until we’re in a highly populated area. And, of course, wait until you’re out of sight before you drop it.”
“We are not children,” Al said, sounding disgruntled.
“I know,” Mahya said. “But stress sometimes makes us forget things. I’m just making sure.”
We were about to exit when I heard the thumping of the robots.
“Shit!” I said.
“No, that’s good,” Mahya said. “John, I’ll draw them in. You try to store them with your teleportation cheat. If that doesn’t work, fry them first, then store them. Mommy needs samples.”
I shook my head in resignation. Sadly, we were invisible, so she didn’t get to see my exasperation.
“Dropping Stealth now. Get ready,” Mahya said.
I moved behind the door and waited. The robots picked up their pace, and a minute later, they burst through.
I stretched my mana sense and stored them. It worked! That confused me for a second, but then it made sense—they weren’t alive in the true sense of the word.
“I am curious if they would still be operational once you retrieve them,” Al said.
“Good idea. Check that,” Mahya said.
I took out one robot and set it on the ground. It collapsed.
“Shit!” Mahya said out loud.
“Why ‘shit’? Did you want it to shoot you?” I asked.
“It’s easier to figure out how something works if it actually works,” she said.
“And how did you plan to—” Al started to say when a loud alarm blared.
“We need to get out of here,” I said. “I’m pretty sure the alarm is because of us.”
“Yeah, but it’s less urgent now since you can disable them from afar,” Mahya said.
“Back to the Gate, or you want to continue with the original plan?” I asked.
She was quiet for over a minute and finally said, “It’s up to you two. I’m still curious about the marker, but I won’t endanger you for it. You decide.”
“I prefer to return to the Gate. This is not an interesting destination,” Al said.
The minute he said it, the connection in my mind re-established itself and sent me a feeling of wrongness. I jolted in surprise. Since the system slammed the connection closed, that awareness had been missing.
They exited the room.
“Wait!” I called.
“What?” Mahya asked telepathically, sounding annoyed.
“Give me a minute,” I said and thought about exploring the other Gate on the maybe-asteroid. I got a strong sense of warning. Almost like a punch.
I shook off the surprise and thought about investigating the marker. A feeling of approval came through—almost like it patted me on the head and said, “Good boy.”
The thought was so ridiculous I snickered.
“What?” Mahya asked again, sounding even more annoyed.
“We need to investigate the marker.”
“Why?” she asked.
“For the same reason I knew to rescue you.”
“Are you certain?” Al asked me.
I was surprised he understood what I was talking about, but then remembered Vegas. “Positive. But first, we need to find a place to stay.”
More thumping was coming from the hall, and it sounded like there were more robots this time.
“Once John stores the tin men, we should go to the circle in the center of the floor. It’s probably the most central location,” Mahya said.
It took us over six hours to get to the central “plaza.” The place was huge, but the bigger issue was the closed doors. We had to double back more than ten times to find different corridors.
Initially, we saw only robots. Now, my Storage had over thirty of them. But the closer we got to the center, the more people we saw. They were Caucasian—most with dark hair, though I did spot one redhead. All of them were shorter than average and extremely pale, with almost translucent skin stretched tight over delicate bone structures.
The clothes were an inconclusive mess. Some wore leather, some wore homespun-looking outfits, and others wore spandex yoga clothes or something close enough. Although the clothes were mainly in muted colors, an absurd number of metal buckles and decorations covered everything. Honestly, the moniker ‘tin men’ fit them better than it did the robots.
On the way, we figured out how to discern the cameras. They were everywhere, but not the kind I was used to from Earth. Instead of domes or lenses, these were thin black pinpricks jutting from the walls at the intersections of ceilings and corners. Our first clue came when we saw someone pause and stare at one with hesitation. When two more people did the same thing, we were sure. Once Mahya spotted one, it became easier to recognize them.
Whenever we encountered people, we listened to their language and practiced telepathically.
When we were close to the central square, we passed through a relatively short corridor, about ten meters long.
“I fried the camera,” Mahya said. “We can drop Invisibility and Stealth.”
“Won’t it look strange if we appear suddenly?” I asked.
“Yeah, let’s wait till a group passes through and exit with them. Rue, you have to stay invisible.”
Rue sent me a strong vibe of I don’t like it, but didn’t argue.
“Wait!” Mahya exclaimed. “Before you drop Invisibility, conjure identifications. I saw screens on their hands.”
I’d noticed them, too, and wondered about them. Mahya was right. Once I paid the mana, a thin screen appeared on the back of my right hand. It was cool to the touch and reminded me of a silicon film, but it was embedded in my skin. I couldn’t peel it off. It was also expensive—500 mana. At least it didn’t hurt.
A group of three men walked through the corridor, and we followed behind them. One of them turned back to look at us but didn’t say anything.
We veered into a different corridor behind another group, and then another. I hoped it was enough to confuse whoever—or whatever—was watching the cameras.
When we got close to the square, Mahya fried more cameras in a longer hall and said quietly, “Let me go gather information. I have experience with this kind of society. Stay here and make sure nobody discovers Rue. I’ll take care of the money and find us a place to stay.
“Until I get back, if somebody tries to approach you, walk away like you didn’t notice them. If robots suddenly appear and look interested in you, store them and wait for me in the first corridor with the busted camera.”
We approached the corner where the corridor met the next, and Rue lay down in the corner. Al and I leaned against the wall on either side of him, making sure no one accidentally stumbled over him.
It took Mahya over three hours to get back to us. During that time, five pairs of robots passed through the corridor, but only glanced in our direction before continuing on. No one came to fix or even examine the cameras, which made me suspect that not all of them were operational, but I couldn’t be sure.
We passed the time talking about nothing in particular, just killing time and commiserating with Rue every time he complained about the unfairness of his situation. He declared that every world—even if it was an asteroid—had to have big dogs, that it was only right.
Finally, Mahya came back and waved for us to follow her. She led us into the central square—a massive, open space. The ceiling arched high overhead, patterned with glowing geometric lines. The air buzzed with conversations and activity, and people moved with purpose everywhere I looked.
Small, floating platforms glided above the crowd, carrying various things, and holographic signs hovered in the air, displaying all sorts of content. I was pretty sure one screen was showing the news—two talking heads sat behind a huge news desk that, for some reason, reminded me of CNN, even though it looked completely different.
Some screens displayed commercials—you couldn’t mistake those. Another showed a musical concert, and at least two played movies or TV series. What confused me was the lack of sound. I was sure they had a way to listen—judging by the people sitting beside tables scattered across the square, completely glued to the screens—but no matter how many ears I checked, I didn’t see a single earphone.
Mahya guided us toward a wide stairway that spiraled up the side of the square to terraces built into the wall. They rose five levels, each one set back slightly from the one below, forming cascading layers of activity. We climbed to the second terrace, where shops and eateries lined the edge in a colorful sprawl—some sleek and metallic, others with a rougher, handmade look, like polished stone or carved composites.
We walked past the bustle to a quieter corridor tucked behind a noisy bar. You couldn’t confuse those, either. The hallway stretched deep into the rock, with doors spaced evenly every few meters on both sides.
When we reached door number six, she waved her hand screen in front of a glowing red dot—which didn’t turn green when the door opened. Amateurs. She stepped inside without a word and gestured for us to enter.
The room looked like a high-end capsule hotel in Japan had a baby with a spaceship. I stayed in a capsule hotel once when I flew to a convention. I’d never visited a spaceship, but I’d seen a couple on TV.
Everything was compact but designed with comfort in mind. Smooth, matte panels covered the walls, subtly backlit with warm ambient lighting. A recessed bench wrapped around one corner beneath a wide screen that displayed shifting abstract patterns.
Four openings to capsule-hotel beds were embedded into the walls—two on each side, one above the other. Built-in storage drawers were flush with the walls, and a narrow sliding panel revealed a small sink, a mirror, what passed for a toilet, and a round glass tube that I guessed was the shower.
The wall with the door was the only one without the glowing panels. Mahya pointed at it. “That’s the only wall you can open your house against. Otherwise, it will fry the panels.”
“You want me to open my house here?” I asked, mildly shocked.
She looked at me with raised eyebrows. “Why not?”
I didn’t have a good reason.
When the door to my house grew out of the core, Rue raced inside, dropped Invisibility, and flopped onto his beanbag with a long telepathic groan of pure suffering. All the sorrow of existence was in that groan.
My dog, the drama queen.
The three of us dropped onto the sofa and groaned, too—with a little less drama. That was a heck of a day.
Comments
TravelingDreamer
LOL — He’s based on my brother’s dog. Her name is Buba, which means “doll” in Hebrew. She’s basically Rue, just smaller and without the talking. She loves ear scratches and demands them constantly, and she is a totally proud diva. Great with kids and an absolute bottomless pit.
Danielle Warvel
Rue reminds me of this weenier dog named Scooter I knew from the local dog park. She was a spoiled little brat who always got what she wanted because she was a complete diva too.
