NEW SCI-FI THRILLER NOVEL "SEAGORA" - SLICE 9

Symphy and Setarcos go 33,000 feet deep.  

They walked the clear tubes, and Setarcos gawked at the bizarre and eclectic sea life floating around them at all angles.     They took two zip pods and came to the vents power station viewing area, 33,000 feet deep.  They were now in an enormous clear tube, which seemed to stretch forever overhead.  Outside, the earth raged.  Raw, volcanic blasts met the icy seafloor depths perpetually.  Fire and ice tangling beautifully.  As if this wasn’t enough feast for the eyes, there was the spectacle of the malleable machines that captured this raw, wild power and transformed it into a controlled, vibrant stream of energy.  This was the technological core of what made all of the abundant life and splendor of “The Pit” possible.    

“Of all the things to see in The Pit, why did you choose this?” Symphy asked.    

Not taking his gape away from the spectacle before him, he answered, “Cuz I’m a scientist, of course.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s right.”

“Are you working on a project right now?”

“Yep.”

“Can you tell me?”

“It’s a secret.”

“I see.”

“Just kidding.  Yeah, I’m trying to separate dark matter and energy.”

“That’s not hard.”

“But stabilizing it is.”

“You got me there. May I ask what purpose you have for wanting to do this? What drives you?”

“Getting away from this place.”

“I didn’t realize I was such bad company.”

“No, not like that.  I mean, to another world.  Away from earth, far away from earth.”

“Why would you want to leave such a wondrous place like earth?”

He paused and faced Symphy, “How long do you think the SeAgora will survive?  The government attacks against SeAgorists has been rising.  It’s only a matter of time until they go in full attack mode and wipe us out.”

“Who says that?”

“I do.”

“Just you?”

“And my dad, well, my stepdad, kinda.  My mom’s boyfriend, Cidel.  So that’s why I want to go to the stars.  That’s why I’m working on this particular dark matter project.  To have a fresh shot at freedom.”

“Yes, there are a growing number who think and feel the same.  I’ve met lots of people who are getting discouraged and want to find a way off planet.”    

“And what about you? What do you think, Symphy?”

“I think that going to space is the most logical thing to do.  SeAgorists could go into space and start over.  The majority of synths on The Mesh calculate this to be the best option, once the proper technology is available.”

He cheered up at the thought of adventures into the unknown, of wide expanses and endless possibilities.  

“An agora in space.  A Space Agora.”

Symphy thought for a moment, then got a mischievous look.  “How about we go surprise Cactus? You can make some money fixing his desalinizer, if you want.”

Setarcos agreed.  They rode to the end of the line.  There was a large, multi-level complex of bubble-housing, which all appeared dreadfully opaque from the outside.    

“It’s so drab,” Setarcos commented.    

“On the outside it is.  He keeps maximum tint on all the time.  It’s dark on the outside, and bright on the inside.” She gave pause and had a realization, “Kind of like Cactus's personality.”

“You mean he’s not the biggest grump in the world?”

“That’s just his rough exterior.  Come on,” she said as she gestured to the arched entrance at the base level.  Symphy was the only one other than Cactus with authorization to bypass the home security system

“We’re just gonna walk in?”

“I’ve known him for fifty years.  It’s fine.” Setarcos cringed and followed reluctantly.    

“Symphy? Symphy, is that you?” a tired voice called out, followed by a deep coughing fit.   

“Who else can break into your fortress?” Symphy quipped.    

Cactus yelled gruffly, “What the hell is he doing here?”

Setarcos and Symphy craned their necks and found Cactus on the next bubble up.  His hands were on his hips and his face was twisted as his eyes shot daggers at his unannounced guest.    

“Breathing and living, just like you are, I suppose,” Symphy said.

Cactus shook his head and walked away grimly.  “Wait, Cactus!” Symphy called.  “He’s going to fix your desalinizer!”

Setarcos stood awkwardly, glancing around and fidgeting like mad.  Social awkwardness and shyness were awful enough, but to basically be trespassing on someone’s property and then being discarded like a disagreeable meal was on a different level of discomfort.    

Cactus walked back with surprising vigor.  His face was a new shade of red.  He came spryly down steps and stood too close for comfort in front of Setarcos’s nervous mug. “You need the bathroom or something?
 

“Huh?”

“Why are you doing all that stuff with your hands and not looking me in the eye?”

“Oh, uh, no, I don’t need the bathroom.”

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Well, I’m always kind of shy around people, so that’s mostly it.”

Cactus’s hand flew up from his pants pocket.  Setarcos jumped.  Cactus held a clear, pen-sized object with a swirling oasis of tiny particles floating inside.  “The damn pH stabilizer is shot.  Probably need to replace the whole damn desalinizer.”

Setarcos squinted at the object, then slowly took it from the wrinkled hand before him.  He examined it carefully and turned it to look at slightly different angles as the fluid of particles danced around.  Then he looked at Cactus, then at Symphy.  “Why don’t you have Symphy fix it?”

“I dunno, why don’t you ask her.” This surprised Setarcos.  Usually synths weren’t referred to as either male or female.  He looked at Symphy again.  She shrugged and tried to play it off.  It was an easy fix for a synth.  She was deliberately trying to get Cactus to socialize.    

He looked at the device again.  “You’ve got a toolbox handy?”

They walked through some brightly lit tube corridors.  Sea life floated by effortlessly on the outside. Along the way, there was a smattering of oddly shaped shelves that held tightly packed rows of paper books.  Setarcos nearly dropped the desalinizer from shock.  “Are those paper books?”

Cactus replied, “Yep.  Some from tree, some from hemp. Some are older than me, if you can believe that.”

“I’ve never held a paper book before.”

“Fix that gadget you’re holding, and you can take whichever one you want as payment.”

Setarcos noticed a holo-photo floating near one of the shelves.  It was a much younger Cactus with a young, attractive girl, doing a silly pose on a primitive sailboat.  “Is that you in the photo, Mister Cactus?”

“A former version,, you might say.”

“May I ask who the girl is?"

Cactus groaned heavily and his eyes darkened.  “Let’s keep walkin.” They were soon in a utility area, where all the life support systems had their main structure.  Cactus nodded to the toolbox on the floor.  “Everything you need should be in there.”

Cactus and Symphy left Setarcos to his own devices.  He was still curious about that photo.  He was also concerned that he’d offended the old man in some way.    

After tinkering around for a short while and carrying out some trial and error experiments to find the crux of the problem, Setarcos laughed as he came across the solution.  The pH stabilizer was fine, but the power relay to it was jammed.  A quick swipe with a nano-cleanser beam cleared things up and the machine was tip-top once again.    

Setarcos, pleased with himself, ran off to find one of his hosts.  He found Cactus laid back on a cushy smart sofa.  He was preoccupied with a small model ship in his grip and didn’t appear to notice the boy’s entrance.  “All fixed,” Setarcos announced.    

Without looking away from the intricate model that had his attention, Cactus responded wryly, “Not a funny joke, boy.”

“But I’m not joking.”

“I spent hours trying to fix that thing myself.  You’ve been at it for under an hour.”

“Have a look for yourself.”

Cactus grumbled and asked the main computer to give an account of the desalinization functionality.  His disinterested demeanor turned a 180 and his face lit up when he was told that the desalinizer was functioning within normal parameters.  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

Setarcos smiled proudly.  Cactus set the intricate model down, stood, and motioned for the boy to follow.  “Grab two books if you want.”   

They walked into the small book and study area.  Setarcos scanned the old, weathered collection and marveled at this unique opportunity.  Nearly all books and documents at this time were digitized.  Paper books were nearly regarded as antiques.    

“I’ve got all the classics.  Rothbard, Rose, Konkin.”

A small white book with red letters drew his attention.  He pulled it carefully out and examined it closely with mouth agape.  Cactus explained, “Most Dangerous Superstition.  First printing.”

“Yeah, I read it a couple years ago, but you know, from a holo-screen.”

“Naturally.  It’s yours if you want it.”

Setarcos gasped.  “That’s very generous of you, but...”

Cactus cut him off, “No buts.  What am I gonna do with it, take it to my grave with me?” Setarcos frowned at this grim, cold reality.  He thanked the old man and looked at his priceless prize.  Then his mind shifted.  There were many curiosities about this old-timer.  He thought of that photo and the model boat.  “May I ask you a question?”

“You just did.”

“Yes, well, that model boat.”

“It’s an exact, small scale replica.”

“Of what?”

“The first boat I brought into the SeAgora.”

Setarcos tried to contain his laughter, but his face spoke volumes.  How could such a primitive vessel have been part of the SeAgora? It was something almost straight out of an old pirate story, a relic completely at the mercy of the winds.    

“Have you ever been on an old ship like that?” Cactus asked seriously.

“Certainly not.”

“Oh, listen to your tone, will you? So caught up in techno-mania.  You’ve never had the simple pleasure of being out to sea without all the support from gadgets and gizmos.”

“How long ago did you come to the SeAgora?”

Cactus looked at him keenly in the eye, “50 years ago.”

Setarcos was startled.  As far as he knew, the SeAgora was barely that old itself.  “Were you one of the founders?”

“I detest labels, but yes, I was one of the first permanent seasteaders.” 

Setarcos had a flash of memory about the holo-photo.  Was that Cactus on the ship, so happy with that young woman? “Was that you on that ship in the photo?”

Cactus smiled sadly and nodded.  “Me, a beautiful ship, and a beautiful lady.  Yes.” He paused thoughtfully, then continued, “But that lady left this life long ago.”

Setarcos regretted asking the question and now slipped back into a socially distressed mindset.  Had he upset the old man? “Well, I’d better be going.”

Cactus nodded.  “You know the way out.”

“Yes.”

Setarcos was nearly out of Cactus’s field of vision, and then the old man spoke hoarsely, “Maybe we’ll take that ship out sometime, if you’re interested.  Show you a thing or two.”

Setarcos was confused.  “The model?”

Cactus said gruffly, “No, not the model.  I have the original article.”

“Sounds good, Mister Cactus.” 

Slice 10 Coming Soon!

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