William I
William leaned against his palm, watching as the bleak wastelands passed by.
The rig rumbled across the desolate sands, kicking up dust and sand in its wake. Out the window, the empty barrenlands stretched as far as the eye could see - the vast, flat wasteland of sunbaked sand and rock, his unobstructed view of the blue horizon intermittently interrupted by red-orange plateaus and bluffs.
Suddenly, the rig jerked to a halt - violently swinging him forwards. William hastily braced himself by stretching out his arms before him, preventing his face from smashing into the headrest of the seat in front of him.
"What happened?" he asked the driver, Charles.
"Tracks, inspector, too deep to cross comfortably," the driver's eyes met his own through the rearview mirror.
William cursed inside his mind, but upheld a professional expression. He pursed his lips in thought. Nomadic cities - an entire city built atop a mobile platform, constructed with the sole purpose of avoiding Catastrophes. In the originium rich lands of Rim Billiton, nomadic cities were dime-a-dozen due to frequent Catastrophes.
Nomadic cities were colossal things, and wherever they tread, the land will be ripped from its foundations by the friction of their tracks. So vast was their weight that nomadic cities have completely flattened the land like gargantuan steamrollers, turning once verdant forests and plains into desolate, inhospitable wastelands - the barrenlands. Over the centuries, the once lush green lands of Terra have been scarred by the mammoth tracks of nomadic cities, so wide and so deep they may as well be canyons.
If the tracks of a nomadic city were in their path, then they were well out of luck.
"How bad?" William asked, heart in his throat.
Charles lifted himself off the seat, half-standing as he peered over the hood, clearly trying to gauge the size of the tracks. When the driver plopped back onto his seat, he didn't look too worried - a welcome sign for William's pounding heart.
"Not too bad," the driver scratched his stubble, "Likely just a prospecting landship had passed through here."
"Can you cross it?"
"Don't worry, boss," Charles grinned, "There's a reason why I was hired."
"Good man," William leaned back in relief.
"Hold on tight, people!"
William swiftly ensured his seatbelt was fastened as tightly as possible, before gripping onto the handrests. Before long, the rig was plunging down into the small rift, the vehicle proving its all-terrain qualities. The rig hit the bottom of the rift with a great racket, and William gritted his teeth to ensure he didn't bite off his tongue. Then, the rig sped up and hit the opposite wall, climbing up to a near forty-five degrees as the engine roared.
They hit the top, and the rig jerked over the ledge onto level ground. William released a heavy breath. It was a well thing that engineers have long foreseen the impacts of landships and nomadic cities - and thus they designed the continuous tracks of those platforms to be slanted at the edges, to act as slopes for far smaller vehicles such as this rig.
"Ah… fuck…"
"You alright there, Wilson?" he turned to his assistant beside him, who was bending over in his seat.
"Ah- just fine, Mister Jamieson," the cautus replied, "Just dropped my tablet is all."
"Just call me William, please."
"Understood, Mister William."
William shook his head silently, before sucking in another breath as the rig sped up again. After a few arduous, teeth-shaking moments, the all-terrain vehicle crossed the next track rift. Soon enough, they were once again speeding through the perfectly level wastelands, to their collective relief. The hired security riding at the shotgun seat adjusted the firearm in his hands - a rifle of some sort.
The sarkaz man was stoic and silent, but very dependable. He was assigned to William some years ago, and they formed a good relationship over the course of their careers. William trusted the man with his life. Employing the man was expensive, but well worth it, and Rim Billiton spared no expense for their inspectors.
"Mister William, what do you think about the report?" Wilson asked, his fingers deftly dancing across his tablet.
The inspector scratched his ears, humming in thought.
"I just hope we aren't wasting our time," he finally said, "I mean, originium eating a man alive? Sounds like an overblown case of oripathy, and I'll say - oripathy is no surprise in the mines."
"That's the thing, inspector," his cautus assistant sighed, "It sounds really ridiculous, but that's why we're here isn't it? Too ridiculous to not be true, and all that."
"Quite right," William stared out the window, and noticed the land was growing increasingly more rugged, "If it was just another case of contracted oripathy, they wouldn't contact us about it. But clearly, they suspect they made some sort of discovery."
"My thoughts, sir."
"Just remember, Wilson," he narrowed his eyes, "We aren't here to convey condolences or ensure the safety of the mines. We are here to inspect this 'man-eating' originium only, and deduce whether it is a hoax, a threat, or a possibility."
"This isn't our first mission, sir," Wilson chuckled, "You don't have to inform me every time."
"What do you think it is, Arthur?"
The sarkaz man shifted his gun, grunting, "Couldn't care less."
William sighed, "Sounds about right."
They fell into a comfortable silence then, the kind of companionable quiet that spoke of the familiarity and comfort the four men had with each other. They have worked with each other for years, and have traversed the barrenlands together countless times before on routine inspections. This time, it was no routine inspection - but still just another mission, and they have taken countless of those together before.
Soon enough, the sun began to set on the horizon, washing the sky in hues of red and gold. It was a beautiful sight - the land and sky melting together in the same fiery hues - granted, they have seen the same sight many times before, but that didn't take away from the charm.
"Y'all should catch some zees," Charles told them, "We'll be going through the night to stay on schedule."
"You'll be alright, Mister Charles?" Wilson asked.
The driver grinned, "I'm a feline, crepuscular. I'll be just fine."
William decided there was no harm in taking the man's advice, and adjusted his seat to lean back a little. Closing his eyes, he mused on the report, seeing the words clearly in his mind's eye. After contact with the originium vein, the miner was swiftly infected and overwhelmed - in a matter of moments turning into another vein of originium. Nothing else like it - the speed, severity, and assimilation rate of oripathy was unmatched in all their records.
Which was why William and his team were dispatched to investigate the incident. Was this a major threat to their operations in the region? Perhaps this was not originium, but an entirely new mineral? Or perhaps a new strand of originium with more stored energy?
So many questions, and the higher-ups wanted answers to all of them.
Well, William wasn't so worried. There have been hundreds of cases like this, most of them overblown by exaggerating miners. He's seen it all, at this point. Truthfully, he hoped this was just another hoax, so he wouldn't have to fill out the paperwork.
William began drifting off to sleep, his consciousness lulled by the rhythmic rumbling of the rig as it traversed the wasteland.
"We've arrived, boss."
"It's William."
"Got it, boss."
"Ah, fuck you," he grumbled, to Charles' amusement.
Arthur disembarked first, closing the door behind himself with a thud. After circling around the vehicle, he knocked the sides twice - informing them it was safe to leave. William released a huff, before opening the door on his side, and stepping down onto the bleak sands of the barrenlands. He felt the earth crunch beneath his feet, the dusty winds sweeping across the wasteland, creating a carpet of flowing sand across the earth.
William grunted in relief as he finally stretched his legs, taking a few small steps to dismiss the numbness in his muscles.
"Welcome to Broken Hill, inspector!"
William swivelled on his heel, turning to see a large-set man in a long coat, a wide-brimmed hat atop his head. He was a cautus, clearly - two floppy ears hung down the sides of his head from underneath his hat.
"Manager Elliot, I presume?"
The man grinned, "That's right. Can't say I know who you are, though."
William straightened his lapels, "William Jamieson, inspector for Rim Billiton's Ravensthorpe subsidiary. I'm afraid your report came at an unfortunate time, for the usual inspector for Broken Hill is quite preoccupied with another quarry. Thus, I was dispatched in his stead, I do hope you can work with me."
"Oh, it's quite alright mate," the man laughed, "Please, follow me and I'll get you up to speed."
They began walking through the clearing as Charles parked the rig, and William took the opportunity to glance around. Broken Hill was aptly named, for the mine looked to be carved from a large hill, crisscrossing gorges between bluffs hiding a multitude of open-air and cave excavations. The main operative sector was raised at the outskirts of the mine, in a clearing filled with neatly arranged prefabricated buildings for the miners to house in.
The rising sun baked the earth beneath their feet as they made their way deeper into the mining sectors, the winds dusting off loosely held sand and blowing the particles across the gorges. William instinctively ruffled his ears, putting on glasses so that none of the sand would get into his eyes. As he observed the mines, he began to pick up on some of its qualities.
"I have read your report in detail, manager," he started, "But I would like to confirm a few things with my own ears first."
"Ask away, inspector."
"Thank you," William smiled, "I understand that blasting is a common mining technique used in Broken Hill?"
"That's right. The earth here is too hard for our boys to dig through it all, so we plant explosives to get deeper to the originium veins."
"You realise how dangerous it is to use explosives near originium, yes?"
"Don't worry, inspector, we are all trained here," Elliot waved him off, "Haven't had an accident in years. We don't use explosives to mine originium, only to get rid of the dirt in the way - we are extra careful in that regard. If you don't believe us, you can ask our usual inspector."
"Just making sure is all," William coughed, "Next, do you have some first-hand accounts of the incident? From the miners who saw it perhaps?"
"Oh yeah," the manager nodded, "They're gathered in front of the mine already. About a dozen first-hand witnesses, so we had to close down the mineshaft due to the severity of the case."
"I see," he nodded, "Have you investigated the incident site yourself yet?"
"Aye, some of my boys went down there in hazmat suits," Elliot paused, "None of them dared touch the originium, even with the suits, but they all confirmed the site has remained the same since the incident."
"Great, let's get this done quickly."
"Of course."
After a while of walking, William could finally set his sights on the mineshaft entrance. Wooden scaffolding held up the foyer, sat atop a wooden platform which gated the entrance. On the foyer, around a dozen miners were milling about, surrounded by several boxes and crates stacked about. As they approached, they slowly came to the miners' attention.
"Boys!" Manager Elliot called, "This is Inspector William Jamieson. Let's not waste any time, so suit up!"
A chorus of accordance echoed through the mining valley, and the miners swiftly began unpacking hazmat suits and other equipment from the crates. Elliot hopped over to one of the boxes, opening it to reveal another hazmat suit inside - before closing it again and handing it to him.
"This one's for you."
"My thanks," he nodded as he accepted the box, before turning to his assistant, "Wilson, set up a communications tower with headquarters, just in case. You know the frequency, normal process."
"Understood, sir."
"Need a suit, Arthur?"
"Nay," the sarkaz grunted, "A rebreather will do."
William swiftly began dressing, pulling the hazmat suit up from his legs, stuffing his arms inside the sleeves and pullin the hood over his head. Putting on thick gloves, he sealed the gaps between the gloves and the sleeves, ensuring it was airtight. Then, he placed a filtration mask over his nose and mouth before lowering the glass visor over his entire face, sealing it airtight.
He experimentally flexed his arms and legs, before nodding in satisfaction.
"Over here, inspector!" he heard one of the operators call.
Approaching, he saw the operator next to a generator, connected to an oxygen extension - which in turn was connected to a large metal tank with gauges and tubes. The operator was holding on to one such tube, the end fixed with a metal ring.
"Turn around," he ordered, to which William obliged, "This tube will be connected to the back of your suit, and pump in oxygen throughout. That gas mask you got inside is just in case your suit isn't sealed properly, and to ensure your visor doesn't fog."
"Thank you."
"No problem."
The tube latched onto the suit's matching clasp with a sharp click, followed by a drawn out hissing noise as the pressure was equalised - then oxygen was pumped in.
"Feeling alright?" the operator asked, "No headache, no light-headedness?"
"Nothing, all good."
"Great," the operator pushed him away, "Next, step forward!"
William moved out of the way of the next person, finding Wilson finalising the radio communications tower. Arthur was watching over him, rifle strapped to his chest and a rebreather over his mouth and nose. An oxygen tank was strapped to his back, looking tiny compared to the mountain of a man.
"All good?"
"Yep," Wilson nodded, "You got your communicator, sir?"
"Matching frequencies…" William trailed off, twiddling with the dials, "Matched, testing… one, two, three."
As he spoke, his voice could be heard from Wilson and Arthur's handheld communicators. They nodded to each other in affirmation. Suddenly, William was startled as a voice from behind called for his attention.
"Inspector!" Elliot hollered, "Ready to move out?"
"Aye," he returned, "Give me a moment, mate!"
He shared a glance with Arthur, who nodded at him. Together they turned around and began making their way to the mineshaft entrance, where all the miners were waiting for them. Manager Elliot was dressed in his own hazmat suit, marked clearly with vibrant stripes to denote his position. William was surprised the he would be joining them, but he supposed it wasn't right to judge a man by their position.
"I'm McCulloch," a cautus man approached him, and arm outstretched, "I was the shift supervisor during the incident. I'll be your guide."
William accepted the cautus' gloved hand, shaking it firmly, "Well met. I'm William, a pleasure to be working with you."
"Aye," McCulloch grinned from behind his mask, before turning around and beckoning them to follow, "C'mon boys! Let's go meet our painful deaths!"
At that morbid quip, the some dozen of them followed the cautus into the mineshaft. Arthur gripped his rifle tightly, eyes darting about the dark cave walls. As they proceeded further and further into the mineshaft, the sunlight began to depart - and eerie shadows began dancing across the walls, unnerving William, even though he knew the shadows belonged to them. The electric bulbs lining the shaft ceiling were dead, covered in a thick layer of dust.
"Switch on flashlights!"
The lead men brought a hand to their necks, where two flashlights were built into the suit. With a click, a wall of golden illuminated brightened the path ahead, revealing more rock and soil. They reached a branch in the mineshaft, and took the left path. William began noticing signs of blast mining, and reached the conclusion that the entire shaft was blown out by powder explosives.
It was an efficient strategy, but also very dangerous. Originium deposits were notoriously volatile, and if the explosions were to hit a vein, then there was a good chance the entire hill could collapse. Not to mention, an entire good and valuable deposit of originium would be lost. Thus, backbreaking manual picking and drilling were most commonly utilised when it came originium mining. The only occasions where blast mining were used was when one was absolutely certain of the location of a deposit, usually through scanners and such.
William began hearing the sound of water dripping, splashing against the moist rock. He glanced downwards, through his visor, and noticed puddles of clear water scattered across the scarred earth - noticeable black particles suspended inside. Originium contaminated water, he thought, this mine must've been extremely lucrative.
"Originium gases detected," someone called, "Activate oxygen pumps!"
"Copy," a voice called from their communicators, which William recognised as the operator from before, "Activating pumps."
A hissing noise reached his ears, and William felt his suit expanding like a balloon as breathable air was pumped into it. His breathing became much more noticeable, a loud kssh-phrr everytime he inhaled and exhaled. Soon, their gait turned into a waddle as they progressed deeper and deeper into the mines.
Finally, they entered a large cavern - and from the scars in the rock William reckoned it was the location of a large originium vein. Crates filled with shards and ores of originium were stacked against the walls, and untouched veins of the resource could still be seen peeking out of some rock faces.
"There it is…" McCulloch murmured, "Just as horrible as I remembered."
"Sweet gods," Elliot gasped, "Look at that thing…!"
But the main attraction stood in the centre of the cavern, before all of them. It was a grotesque thing, abhorrent in the most surreal form and stature of a man. When the report mentioned that the miner was 'eaten' by the originium, William could admit he did not expect it to be so literal - no, he could admit that the description did not do it justice.
It was as if the man was armoured in warped shards of black glass. He could clearly define the man's legs, one foot before the other - and an outstretched arm - as if he was reaching out for something. The man's face was affixed into a rictus howl of agony, white teeth peeking through the rapturous maw of originium. The man's eyes were wide in terror, shards of black rock piercing through the eyeballs. Dried blood coated the black rock, small crystalline shards forming from its cells.
William cautiously circled around the ghastly statue, his steps hounded by Arthur - the sarkaz pointing his rifle at the dead miner all the while, as if he could suddenly come back to life. William took a deep breath, and hesitantly brought up his scanner to the originium - a thin ray of light shooting out of the sensor, scanning the resource. He stared at the tablet in his other hand, watching as the chemical compounds of the originium strand appeared on the screen in real time - his mind racing as he put together the pieces.
"Inspector?" Elliot asked, "What do you think?"
"I have…" William sucked in a shuddering breath. "I have never seen anything like it - this is pure originium…"
"You mean… originite prime?" McCulloch asked, "It can't be, this is not refined in any way!"
"I don't know," the inspector shook his head in disbelief as he read the results on his tablet, "The energy capacity is… it's incredible. And yet, the ratio of originium to impurities is massively one-sided - a natural deposit of this purity has only been theorised to exist!"
"It is also incredibly volatile…" he continued, "Its particles are extremely violent, as if they are constantly searching to expand… Mister McCulloch."
"Yes?"
"Describe to me what happened that day, I want every possible detail."
"Well," the miner started, "We found the vein in the deposit, it was as if one slash of originium was on fire - glowing bright orange. The man touched it in curiosity - he was wearing mining gloves - and suddenly the orange glow disappeared. The next second, he was screaming at the top of his lungs and originium began punching through his skin from the inside like spikes."
McCulloch took a deep breath, "Then he turned around, stared at all of us in the eyes, before collapsing to his knees. He began convulsing, his bones cracking - twisting in unnatural angles. Then his head… originium shards pierced out of his skull, and he slowly stood up. He began asking us why we were afraid in this… this disgusting voice."
"Raspy, it was raspy," another miner spoke up, "Like a terrible sore throat. He began walking forward, his arm reaching for us as he kept asking us why we were afraid. Then the originium completely ate up his body, and we just… we just high-tailed it out of there."
"Fuck me…" Arthur murmured, wearily eyeing the horrific outcome, his rifle constantly pointed at it.
"Right," William breathed, "I got it, thank you."
He spotted one of the miners creeping forward slowly at the corner of his eye, and just as the man touched the originium-infested corpse, William screeched.
"What the fuck are you doing!? Step back at once!"
"Gah!" the miner stumbled backwards, dropping something.
"Hey!" McCulloch shouted in disbelief, "You got a death wish? Didn't you hear what we said!? That thing can infect you through your gloves!"
"I- I didn't touch it!" the man cried, pointing at the ground, "Look, I used a rock!"
William's gaze followed the man's pointed finger to the ground, where a pebble was lying of the dusty earth. The inspector cautiously crept forward and gingerly picked up the pebble, bringing it to his eye to inspect it through his visor - finding it to be a fragment of sandstone. It did not look to be assimilated by the originium, to say the least - all yellow-orange and dusty as sandstone was.
He brought his scanner to the rock, and waited until a beeping sound was heard. Stowing the scanner away, he consulted his tablet for the results - and immediately dropped the piece of sandstone as if it was scalding hot.
"Inspector?"
"Nothing," he replied, a bit too quickly, before turning to the daring - and stupid - miner, "You nearly killed yourself there, mate, don't be so stupid again."
"Yeah- yeah…"
"So, what is to be done, inspector?" Elliot asked.
"Shut down all operations in Broken Hill. I will conclude this working month, so you will all get paid immediately. Some prospectors will drop by, I think, and once they give the green light, mining operations can continue."
"What happens if there's no work for next month either?"
"You can all start widespread prospecting for this new kind of originium in the region."
"Right," Manager Elliot nodded, "That's good, that's good."
"Uh- pardon me," McCulloch spoke up, "What are we to do with that… vein?"
"Yeah… just give me a moment."
William's shaking hands fumbled with his communicator, before he took a large breath to calm himself down, the oxygen flooding his lungs. With still quivering hands, he brought up the communicator.
"Wilson?"
Static–static - then a voice, thank fuck.
"This is Wilson. Sir? What's going on? This is the first time-"
"Listen to me, Wilson," William hissed, silently cursing the slight tremor in his voice, "What's the closest city right now?"
"Closest- uh… I think Steel Robot is just some leagues north of here."
"Alright, contact the Ravensthorpe branch in Steel Robot. We need an airlift, code orange."
"...Fuck, alright yeah- I got it, boss."
"It's just William," he breathed, the familiar phrase calming his nerves, "Fuck, just get them here real quick."
He put down the communicator, meeting the gazes of all the miners looking at him in expectation.
"Listen here," he finally said, "I want this entire mineshaft to be locked shut, airtight if possible. All of this gear? Burn it all. I also want everyone to be decontaminated."
A chorus of affirmations greeted him.
"Good, now let's get out of here."
"Alright!"
"Finally…"
"Thank fuck man."
Everyone turned around, and began shuffling back to the mine entrance, collecting their oxygen supply tubes as they refollowed their steps. Arthur began following them, but William stopped him with a hand.
"I want you decontaminated," he muttered, "You hear that? Everything, I want everything decontaminated and sanitised."
"...Yeah," the sarkaz nodded, "Don't worry, I got it, boss."
Arthur began leaving with the miners out of the cavern, and William followed him, his eyes trained on the sarkaz's large back. He'll need to decontaminate himself too, William thought, nothing can be risked right now, not with this new isotope of originium.
As he lost himself in thought, his breath hitched.
Even with all the oxygen pumped into his suit, why was it suddenly so hard to breathe? The air felt incredibly stuffy, and William feared there was a leak in his suit. He hastily scanned all the obvious places - where his boots and gloves where, and the hood and visor - but there was nothing.
Nevertheless, he hastened up his pace, quickly catching up to the rest.
It was probably just the anxiety, he told himself, this new isotope of originium was the prize of a lifetime. He probably couldn't handle the excitement. So many new possibilities - research, technology, energy, military, all of it!
And as the discoverer, his name would be written in the history books. Granted, there had to be more originium veins of the same isotope found, first, for it to be useful. However, proving the existence of the isotope was already a good start.
Yes, he reaffirmed, it was probably just the excitement getting to him.
Though, for some reason, he couldn't help but think it was anxiety instead.
