Chapter 3 3

I set through the tunnel that immediately branches off the main outlets. I take a lift down and down, and finally it opens, revealing a cavernous opening.

Everyone in the building calls it the Pit of Hell.

There isn't a shred of natural light down here. It smells like steam and grease and metal.

It's the smell of heaven to me.

Pipes and wires and moving components rise and twist in every direction. It's loud and sounds like chaos.

It sounds like a miracle to me.

I head down the walkway, the one that leads directly to my office and workshop.

It's immediately quiet when I close the door behind me. I sit down at my desk, and the screens instantly come to life. My eyes scan the reports and analytics, telling me all the problems I have to fix today.

I work for the largest power plant on the planet Korpillion. We're located in the center of the planet and we send power to this entire side of the globe. Our building spans kilometers of land. It's divided into sections, four different quadrants, with four different teams who take care of what needs to be done.

I'm a member of the third quad. I'm an engineer, that's my official title and what my education was in. I'm also, largely, a mechanic. I keep everything running. I fix problems. I build things to make other things run better.

Others might look at me as a grease monkey, but without me, the planet would quickly lose power.

Zayne Nason, who I've known since I started here three solars ago, works as an information wizard.

That's not what he's really called. But I don't really understand what it is he does, so I dubbed him a wizard.

The report on my holoscreen says there's a problem with the pipes on sub-level 4, so I grab the tools I'll need, and head out.

There's steam leaking from one of the pipes and it's hot as the Underworld here in this cramped corner. Gritting my teeth, I set to the task.

"You there?"

I startle at the voice and smack my head against one of the other pipes above me.

It cracks, and steam starts spilling out of it, too.

I swear, rubbing the back of my head, probably smearing grease into my dirty blonde hair.

"Sometimes you come calling at the very worst times," I say, grabbing a roll of tape and patching the crack temporarily until I can get the parts to fix this new problem.

"I'm sorry," he says. "Are you with someone?"

I roll my eyes and shake my head, even though he can't see me. "I didn't mean that. I only meant that when a voice suddenly speaks inside your head, it has a tendency to startle you and make you crack your head on the pipes you're working on."

"Oh, sorry," his voice comes through, in my brain, like he's a tiny figure standing right inside my skull, speaking directly into my auditory nerve. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I grit my teeth as I use a wrench to pry the slip sleeve loose. "Just a new bump on the back of my head. How is your day?"

He pauses a moment, and I wonder what he's doing. "It's not really day here. I'm on the dark side of a moon."

"Anywhere I might have heard of?" I ask as it finally loosens and I unscrew the part.

I actually hear him chuckle. "Probably not."

"Doing anything interesting there?" I ask. I'm normally better conversation than this, but I'm distracted. I've got to get these pipes fixed or we'll start to lose pressure within a few hours.

"Just work," he responds.

A hissing sound whips my head around, and I see steam spraying out from around my tape. It's too much. If I don't get it under control, the whole pipe will blow out.

"Sorry, I have to take care of this," I hiss, ripping through my bag, praying I've got the right stuff to patch the leak; something better than tape. "I'll connect later, 'K?"

"Alright," he says. "Good luck."

And just like that, I feel him leave my head.

I swear under my breath as I dash for the shut-off valve.

They're going to be mad at me later for doing this, but at least it won't cause a meltdown. I should have done this sixty seconds ago, but it's easy to get distracted when a voice suddenly speaks directly into your mind.

You're supposed to be alone in your head. Sure, your own voice might talk to you, might criticize you, or give you motivation.

But one day, about two lunars ago, there was suddenly this other voice.

Clear as day, I felt it there. Like a physical presence. Like somehow this little shard of ice suddenly appeared in the middle of my brain.

"Hello?" a voice called out from it.

I'd screamed in my bedroom as I'd been getting ready for bed. Thankfully Dad wasn't home.