replied.
“I do not believe there is a coed naked romping court. You are inventing this.”
“Frankly, I’m offended by your accusation,” Vik said indignantly. “Because of this, we’re not bringing you to the CNRC next time we go, are we, Tom?”
Tom shook his head. “No way. If you don’t believe us, you don’t romp in our court. You can romp in someone else’s court.”
Yuri scowled at them.
“Don’t worry, they’re making it all up,” Wyatt assured Yuri, as though anyone doubted it.
They emerged into a marble-floored corridor with a bubbling fountain in the center and crisp signs indicating various sectors of the Mezzanine. One was an administrative wing, another led straight to the hybrid fission-fusion nuclear reactor, another led to something called the Vault that was so restricted, looking in that direction plastered warnings in their vision centers: Intruders shot on sight, which made them all walk a bit faster past it. The fourth sector led to the Pentagon, and the fifth to a room empty but for two rows of fake trees and at the far wall a massive set of glass double doors that gazed into pure darkness. Tom’s neural processor told him this was the entrance to the Interstice and that he should walk inside.
“What is an ‘Interstice’?” Vik said.
“Obviously some mode of transportation,” Wyatt said.
“That’s helpful, Evil Wench.”
They ventured through the fake trees, and something triggered. Green lines slashed from the plastic trunks, honing in on their eyes. One by one, their retinas were scanned, and after the green lights bit into Tom’s eyes, he saw words before his vision center: Identity verified. Trainee Raines, Thomas. Proceed to the doors.
They’d all received the same notice, so they found themselves standing there, shoulder to shoulder before the glass doors that led to the black chamber beyond.
And then a mechanized voice boomed in the air: “Decompression sequence initiated.”
Vik whirled around, genuinely alarmed. “Decompression in here?”
“Out there,” Wyatt said, poking her finger to indicate the room beyond the glass before them. “It can’t be in here because our lungs would’ve already ruptured.”
“I would have noticed that,” Tom said.
Yuri nodded. “And then our blood would boil.”
“I’d notice that, too,” Tom said.
He spotted something large and metallic rising into view in the chamber beyond the doors. It clanged to the ground loudly enough to make them all jump. It looked like a miniature metallic train car, sitting there in the darkness, the passenger cabin the only source of light in the decompressed room.
No wonder everyone’s departures had been spread out. The metal train car had a scattering of seats, but it obviously wasn’t meant for a heavy passenger load. Information soared through Tom’s brain: The Interstice is a series of magnetized vacuum tubes designed for traversion by magnetized vactrains propelled by magnetic fields. Given the absence of friction and minimal curvatures in the tubes, maximum speeds can reach 5,000 miles per hour. The vactrain is shielded to protect equipment inside from magnetic forces.
They all jumped when a mechanized voice boomed from overhead: “Recompression sequence initiated.”A chugging sound pervaded the air. The glass doors slid open to admit them into the room with the train car.
They all headed over and took seats inside the tiny metallic car. The doors slid shut behind them.
“Do we . . . press something?” Wyatt asked tentatively.
And then the mechanized voice boomed from overhead: “ Decompression sequence initiated. Prepare for departure to Wyndham Harks Headquarters, New York City.”
The dark chamber depressurized around them, and the floor slid open. Tom caught a last glimpse of the room on the other side of the glass doors with its fake trees, and they were blown with stomach-swooping abruptness into the vacuum tube.
They all flinched, but they never hit
“I do not believe there is a coed naked romping court. You are inventing this.”
“Frankly, I’m offended by your accusation,” Vik said indignantly. “Because of this, we’re not bringing you to the CNRC next time we go, are we, Tom?”
Tom shook his head. “No way. If you don’t believe us, you don’t romp in our court. You can romp in someone else’s court.”
Yuri scowled at them.
“Don’t worry, they’re making it all up,” Wyatt assured Yuri, as though anyone doubted it.
They emerged into a marble-floored corridor with a bubbling fountain in the center and crisp signs indicating various sectors of the Mezzanine. One was an administrative wing, another led straight to the hybrid fission-fusion nuclear reactor, another led to something called the Vault that was so restricted, looking in that direction plastered warnings in their vision centers: Intruders shot on sight, which made them all walk a bit faster past it. The fourth sector led to the Pentagon, and the fifth to a room empty but for two rows of fake trees and at the far wall a massive set of glass double doors that gazed into pure darkness. Tom’s neural processor told him this was the entrance to the Interstice and that he should walk inside.
“What is an ‘Interstice’?” Vik said.
“Obviously some mode of transportation,” Wyatt said.
“That’s helpful, Evil Wench.”
They ventured through the fake trees, and something triggered. Green lines slashed from the plastic trunks, honing in on their eyes. One by one, their retinas were scanned, and after the green lights bit into Tom’s eyes, he saw words before his vision center: Identity verified. Trainee Raines, Thomas. Proceed to the doors.
They’d all received the same notice, so they found themselves standing there, shoulder to shoulder before the glass doors that led to the black chamber beyond.
And then a mechanized voice boomed in the air: “Decompression sequence initiated.”
Vik whirled around, genuinely alarmed. “Decompression in here?”
“Out there,” Wyatt said, poking her finger to indicate the room beyond the glass before them. “It can’t be in here because our lungs would’ve already ruptured.”
“I would have noticed that,” Tom said.
Yuri nodded. “And then our blood would boil.”
“I’d notice that, too,” Tom said.
He spotted something large and metallic rising into view in the chamber beyond the doors. It clanged to the ground loudly enough to make them all jump. It looked like a miniature metallic train car, sitting there in the darkness, the passenger cabin the only source of light in the decompressed room.
No wonder everyone’s departures had been spread out. The metal train car had a scattering of seats, but it obviously wasn’t meant for a heavy passenger load. Information soared through Tom’s brain: The Interstice is a series of magnetized vacuum tubes designed for traversion by magnetized vactrains propelled by magnetic fields. Given the absence of friction and minimal curvatures in the tubes, maximum speeds can reach 5,000 miles per hour. The vactrain is shielded to protect equipment inside from magnetic forces.
They all jumped when a mechanized voice boomed from overhead: “Recompression sequence initiated.”A chugging sound pervaded the air. The glass doors slid open to admit them into the room with the train car.
They all headed over and took seats inside the tiny metallic car. The doors slid shut behind them.
“Do we . . . press something?” Wyatt asked tentatively.
And then the mechanized voice boomed from overhead: “ Decompression sequence initiated. Prepare for departure to Wyndham Harks Headquarters, New York City.”
The dark chamber depressurized around them, and the floor slid open. Tom caught a last glimpse of the room on the other side of the glass doors with its fake trees, and they were blown with stomach-swooping abruptness into the vacuum tube.
They all flinched, but they never hit
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