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The planet orbits so far from its sun that it is classified as a Sunless.
Snow-covered fields and mountains on this dark planet hide underground rivers of shining purple plasma. Plasma is the fifth form of matter. It is between liquid and gas, high-energy, and volatile.
On the sunless planet, a plasma rig is the only place habitable by humans. Plasma rigs perform a process called Flame Mining. This type of mining creates turbulent magnetic fields that kill robots and electronic processors. Without AI, plasma facilities are run by men''s brute force and old-school mechanical machines.
On this Sunless, a lonely plasma rig extracts, transforms, and relays plasma energy to cyberplanets.
Working in the rig requires strength. It does not hire women.
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The Captain
The captain is confused.
Extreme situations are not new to him. As the security captain of a highly unstable plasma rig, he’s been through many of them. This morning, he saved three of his men’s lives by preventing a truck from unloading prematurely.
Still
This one
This one right in front of him.
This one is different.
Ten minutes ago, at 01:14 in the morning, he received a radio call about unusual activity in the men’s resting area, branch C14.
He kept asking for a description of the situation over the radio, but the other side was too confused, they could not give a proper description.
When the captain arrived at the resting area, he saw men staring at the wall at the far end of the corridor.
This corridor has two rows of bunk beds on each side. 15 men are standing inside the corridor, mostly wearing their sleeping shorts, all staring at the wall at the far end.
The captain searches for Lucas, he is the one who radioed in. In the dimly lit corridor, he finds Lucas holding his radio, staring at the far end like the rest of the men standing in the dormitory. Lucas is wearing a working jumpsuit with a yellow worker’s helmet. When the captain reaches Lucas, he sees what is in front of the men on the wall.
The wall is changing;
A circular hole is forming in the middle of the wall, around 2 meters in diameter. It looks like a giant round digging tool is digging into the wall from the other side and has now reached its destination. However, there is barely any noise. It''s just a soft whistle with a rhythm.
ZzzZzzZzzZzzZ
No, the captain has never seen anything like this. He starts walking closer, cautiously passing between the men standing in the corridor, he has to ask some of the men to move so he can reach the far end. All men are dumbfounded. The captain points his torch at the wall. The corridor is half-lit and the captain wants to ascertain that he is not staring at an illusion.
A few seconds later, small sharp teeth start protruding out of the wall; five circular rolls of teeth, varying diameters, encircled within each other. It seems like those rolls of teeth have been digging through the wall, into the room, by rapidly rotating.
No, this is not an illusion. Whatever is growing out of the wall, is alive.
A few moments pass like a lifetime.
Suddenly an extension protrudes from the middle of the round hole, like a tongue. The extension grows out with an enormous speed, it reaches the head of Lucas, his yellow helmet falls as the tongue attaches to the side of Lucas’s head and immediately drags Lucas into the rolls of teeth. His screaming face passes in front of the captain in a fraction of a second. Not enough time for him to react, but enough for him to remember that Lucas was just a 16-year-old who had joined the rig, under the captain''s protection, only a few months ago. As his screeching face passes in front of the captain''s petrified look, he is reminded of the teenager''s smiling face this morning stating high hopes for "starting the rig-punk lifestyle". Lucas is violently dragged into the center of the circular teeth, which right now is growing oozing shapeless flesh. Lucas''s head is rapidly buried fully in the creature and his screaming stops followed by a loud breaking sound;
Crunch! His body becomes lifeless. The creature slowly sucks in the dead body.
The captain shouts from the depths of his lungs: “EVERYONE GET OUT!”
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Plasma is romantically described as "close to what the flame of a candle is made of"
Rule #1
Encourage patience
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“GET OUT!”
The captain yells for the second time as he sprints towards the end of the room pushing the two men close to him to go as fast as possible. He keeps one eye on the giant round mouth on the wall that is slowly swallowing Lucas. This is the chance to escape before the mouth can grab the next victim.
As the men in the corridor sprint towards the other end, one of them, who is wearing sleeping shorts, runs towards his pillow, grabs a handgun from under the pillow, and starts shooting at the mouth. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! The unformed flesh of the creature absorbs the bullets like they are made of flesh. Lucas’s legs are still outside the mouth, slowly being sucked in. They look lifeless.
The captain runs to the shooter and grabs his arm, the men look at each other in panic for one moment, they both sprint to the door at the other end of the corridor.
The captain is the last one to pass the door to the hallway. He locks the door and steps back. He is unsure whether that tongue can pass through the flimsy wooden panels.
"Captain!"
They hear the faint scream of a man from the far end of the concrete windowless hallway. The hallway is lit by buzzing yellow lights dancing off brass tubes on the walls. The silhouette of a man appears running towards them from the far end. He is wearing a yellow worker’s helmet and a jumpsuit. As he gets close he shouts: “THINGS ARE GROWING OUT OF WALLS EVERYWHERE!”
The captain cannot waste any more time. He raises his radio and orders: “Doug, contact CASTEL. Ask for immediate backup.”
Doug responds immediately on the radio: “They already know. They are sending a convoy." Doug sounds alert. "They recommend we take cover in areas with Faraday-Cage protection. They say the creature is most likely a Vermillion worm.”
A Vermillion worm? The captain heard about this in his re-training three years ago. What was it? A massive worm with an enormous main body and smaller branches that dig inside plasma facilities. So those creatures growing out of his walls must be just the branches. The main body is somewhere much deeper.
The captain knew they did not have the equipment against a Vermillion worm on the rig. He also knew that the worm must never be disturbed with regular weapons. He has to act fast. He pushes his memory to remember which walls in his rigs have Faraday Cage installed. “Bert, announce that everyone takes cover in one of four monitor towers." The captain has to get every man in the rig to one of the four flare exhausts…every 865…
The alarm sounds throughout the facility.
"Everyone follow me to monitor tower three." The captain starts running. He shouts his lungs out at any man he sees to make them run like their life depends on it. Halfway to the control tower, he remembers something important “Doug, ask CASTEL how much their convoy weighs. We need to balance the portal.”
“7 tons 116 kilos,” Doug replies on the radio.
“Fuck fuck.”
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CASTEL is a private megacorporation that manages all trades involving plasma rigs. The bio-cyber company also provides security backup in rare emergencies such as a Vermillion worm.
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A round white room dimly lit by artificial yellow lights. In the center, a brightly lit glass incubator stands on a white one-meter cubicle.
A red-haired woman with green cat-like eyes, wearing a white coat and a face mask, slowly moves her gloved arms inside the incubator. Rose is very diligent when she removes the lid of a glass flask holding crystal pink liquid. She aspirates 3 drops into her pipette. Slowly she moves the pipette to a petri dish in the middle of the incubator. She anchors her arm on the table and aims at the center of the dish, inside, a 1-centimeter blob of poorly formed flesh slowly mimics Rose''s every move, specifically her arm with the pipette.
The pipette''s tip halts over the blob, 5 centimeters away. The flesh slightly rises as if trying to reach the tip.
Rose takes a deep breath and exhales. It does nothing to calm the worried look in her eyes. She turns her neck to look at the only other person in the room. A silent observer, protected head to toe in a white hazmat suit is standing 50 centimeters behind her, holding a tablet, ready to write. Rose can almost see her reflection in the observer''s chrome visor.
"I hope she knows how loud her breathing is inside that overprotective suit." Rose takes another deep breath and dismisses this thought. She turns her head back to the incubator, The blob of flesh is eagerly stretched towards the pipette. Rose closes her eyes and repeats the instructions in her head "Give one drop, wait 20 seconds, if no reaction, give a second drop." She opens her eyes. The blob is no longer stretched upward, it is covered with a crystal-pink liquid. Rose frowns. She looks at her pipette. It is empty.
"How many drops was that?!" the observer yells behind her. Startled, Rose''s mind goes blank.
The blob absorbs the liquid. Slowly it grows.
Rose shockingly removes her arms from the incubator gloves and steps back. The observer violently grabs her by the back of her white-coat collar and throws her on the floor. The blob''s growing speed increases as poorly formed arms shape out. Claw-like protrusions appear on top of the rapidly growing flesh. The observer pushes two transparent buttons on the corner of the incubator window. A see-through tube running along the inner corners of the incubator starts shaking. In a few seconds, the 50-by-100-cm glass box is s crammed with moving flesh. The word JAMMED appears on the front glass, just under the see-through buttons.
"Fantastic!" the observer''s sarcasm is clear through her muffled voice. She turns to Rose and orders: "Push the red button". Rose is frozen on the floor, shockingly watching the incubator''s walls concave outside as the growing flesh presses against the glass.
"Push the button!" The observer repeats loudly and points to the other side of the room. Rose regains her thoughts. She turns her head in the direction of the gloved fingers, at the other side of the round room. She sees a panel of four round emergency buttons. Without thinking, Rose sprints, and within a few seconds, she reaches the panel. Yellow, blue, green, and red round buttons. Without hesitation, she pushes the red one.
"WARNING, CODE RED ACTIVATED. LAB QUARANTINED" a female robotic voice resonates in the room. Rose hears clicking in the walls surrounding her. They are locked in.
"COMMENCING ACID WASH IN 40 SECONDS."
Rose''s heart stops for a moment "Acid wash?!" Her face loses color, "Wait, what am I wearing?" she looks down at her chest. She hopes that her memory is mistaken and she is magically wearing protection. Her hope is shattered as she sees the white coat covering her bosoms. She desperately looks at the observer who is calmly fitting her tablet inside her hazmat suit. She closes the pocket, kneels, and opens a hatch on the floor opposing the incubator. Rose feels hopeful, is this an escape?
Her hope is shattered as she sees a shallow container for a black ax and a gas mask. The observer throws the gas mask at Rose: "Put this on."
Rose immediately puts it on. "Wait, what about the rest of my body?!"
"30 SECONDS"
The observer lays the ax on her shoulder and closes the hatch door. She presses the corner of the white cubicle under the incubator. With a clicking sound one of its walls opens. There is enough space inside the empty cubicle to fit a small human. The observer grabs Rose by the collar and shoves her inside. "Keep your feet off the floor," she closes the wall on Rose.
"20 SECONDS"
The flesh keeps pushing against the glass. The observer stands in front of the incubator and swings the ax in a crescent to her front. Now she is holding the ax with two arms, changing her posture to guard.
"10, 9, 8,..."
Bang! She breaks one of the incubator windows with her ax. The flesh freely grows out of the broken window. On top of the mass of poorly formed arms and claws, a mandible starts forming. The observer grabs the poorly formed mandible with her gloved hand and drags it out of the incubator.
"...7, 6, 5,..."
Nozzles rise out of the round room''s walls. The observer holds the growing and moving blob of flesh by its barely formed mandible and keeps it with an extended arm in front of her face. Poorly formed claws move aimlessly as the body of flesh grows bigger, crawling on the floor and surrounding her. A large nozzle descends from the ceiling. The observer holds the mandible right under the nozzle as brain-like tissue slowly forms on top of it.
"...3, 2, 1, COMMENCING"
Green liquid squirts out of nozzles, filling the room air. The room turns darker as the light sources are covered with a crimson mixture of acid and flesh.
A few seconds later, the nozzles stop pouring.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
The creature has disappeared from the observer''s hand. The room is dimly lit by a red light. The floor is covered with red steaming liquid, and so is the observer.
Rose is breathing heavily inside her gas mask in the pitch-black darkness of the cubicle. Outside is finally silent. She has been keeping her feet off the floor by pushing her back and feet against the opposing walls of the cubicle. The other wall of the cubicle opens. The room outside is barely lit by lights covered with red dissolved flesh. Rose, struggling to keep her feet off the floor, looks up at the observer standing in front of her covered with red steaming goo. She rests her ax on her shoulder, bends her knees, her visor stops at the level of Rose''s eyes. She sighs, it resonates inside her hazmat suit, "I''ll talk to my sister".
The nozzles squirt again. This time a clear liquid streams through the air and down the walls, slowly washing the acid and blood from the observer and the light sources into newly emerged drains on the floor. Rose hangs to the walls of the cubicle until the squirting stops. Her white coat is now a Pollock artwork.
A few minutes later the observer is in her private changing room.
Rayne removes her hazmat head cover. She is a young woman with grey eyes and short white hair. She opens the knot on the back of her hazmat collar slowly removing the rest of the hazmat suit. Her body is covered with a tight black armor. A thin layer of interwoven carbon fiber plates.
Rayne steps out of her hazmat suit, leaving it on the floor. She walks barefoot to the entrance of a round tunnel lit by artificial yellow and white lights. As she steps in, she is showered by a gentle stream of water coming from the walls of the short tunnel.
Rayne closes her eyes and enjoys the water streaming down her face for a few seconds. Keeping her eyes closed, she starts removing her black armor piece by piece.
She crosses her arms. Each hand removes the opposite elbow cover, exposing hidden zippers on both sides. She fingers the zippers up and presses them between two fingers, slowly unzipping to her shoulders. Once opened, she removes her left armpiece, letting the gentle stream of water wash her well-toned shoulder. She removes the other armpiece, the stream of water flows down a tattoo of a bird-like creature staring to the front with white eyes. Rayne throws both armpieces on the floor.
Her hands move down along her waist, they find and grasp hidden buckles on both sides of the carbon-fiber breastplate. She removes her breastplate. A black sports bra is soaked by the water streaming down prominent collar bones. On her neck, a purple crystal is horizontally attached to a thin golden chain, slightly etched into the skin. Rayne throws the plates on the floor and unbuckles her belt. She readily slides the armored black pants down her legs and removes them, which leaves her with black leggings covering her up to high waist. The leggings reveal protruding pelvic bones and well-toned thighs. She takes a deep breath.
Sucking her belly button into her diaphragm, Rayne slightly raises her ribcage. She places her right palm on the top of her belly button, her left palm pauses on the curvature of her lower back. Rayne exhales slowly, gently sliding her hands around her waist. Twisting the leggings in harmony with her slow breathing, they loosen and slide down her waist.
Suddenly, the wall on the other side of the tunnel turns into a bright monitor. An enormous portrait of a young blonde woman appears on the empty wall. Rayne is startled. She turns her head away from the monitor, closes her eyes, and tries to calm her nerves. Even though she is familiar with interruptions at the worst times of the day, she did not know that they had placed a communication monitor in her private changing room. Clenching her fist she tries to exhale as inaudible as she can but she cannot help a faint grunt.
The blonde woman is wearing a simple brown pantsuit, her hair is tight in a high ponytail. Her face is expressionless. "Sorry to bother you, this is an emergency."
"I figured." Rayne tries to sound as calm as she can. The tunnel is fully lit by the enormous monitor. She does not want her face to show her anger. She keeps her eyes closed, takes a deep breath, and waves her hand clockwise in the air. The shower stops. She raises her right arm and shouts "headphones!". She waits for a second, nothing happens. Rayne opens her eyes and doubtfully looks at the round ceiling of the shower tunnel "...please?". Finally, a hatchet opens and a pair of black headphones drop into her hand. She puts them on and starts walking towards the monitor. The woman disappears from the screen and numbers start flowing from the bottom of the screen to the top. Occasionally graphs appear. Her leggings are at the level of her pelvic bones, revealing a toned abdomen and multiple old scars.
"I agree, it is a Vermillion worm."
Rayne reaches the wall and stops in front of the screen. She uses her finger to scroll up and down the report a few times. "When is it due to hatch?"
The blonde woman reappears on the screen. She is touching her earpiece. "It seems that it is already hatched."
Rayne exhales in disappointment, she drops the headphones on her shoulders, runs her fingers into her hair, and drains the water. "Meet me there." The blonde woman nods and disappears. The wall turns back to the simple white wall of the changing room. "Jane!" Rayne shouts as she remembers something. The monitor turns back on and the blonde woman reappears. Rayne claps her hands once. The words Recording: OFF appear in the corner of the screen and the blaring of Jane''s background is inactivated. She is standing in front of two rows of desks each with monitors occupied by women in pantsuits. All are sticking their necks out of their monitors, curiously staring at Rayne. Jane turns her head and takes a look behind her, she turns her head back at the camera "I am switching to private audio". Her image disappears and the words Audio Call appear.
"Did you pay attention to the rig ID?" asks Rayne. "Yes, it is the one from the events of two years ago," Jane replies in a stoic voice.
"You know what to do." Rayne sounds solemn. "Copy that." Jane''s tone does not change.
"Wait! Did they install a communication in my bathroom too?"
Jane stays silent.
"Jane?" Rayne does not hide her anger this time.
"I''ll file the complaint when we come back," she does not sound reassuring.
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A BP has a positive pole and a negative pole. The balancing weight must be close to the negative pole.
Humans should never travel on the negative pole, there is no guarantee they will reach the other end intact.
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<td style="width: 89.3718%">Plasma is the only source of energy on the dark planet. The rig is designed to heat itself using the excess plasma that occasionally floats up and turns into enormous purple flames. This excess flow of plasma is rather unpredictable. The four towers of the rig are built around 4 plasma exhausts, periodically releasing the excess energy into the resting areas and warming them up. The rig employees are trained to find the nearest door and shelter immediately if they see a purple light at the end of any hallway.</td>
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<td style="width: 87.9825%">Rule #2 of TBO
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There is always one idiot who can’t look away.” Rayne thinks.