Day 59.
Clint was not to be bothered. He shut himself inside the HUB and asked everyone to do whatever they needed elsewhere. Mike was discussing something about more exploration, but all of that was lost on Thomas.
Thomas had found his stride.
The factory had come together nicely. All they local essentials now had automated miners feeding Iron, Copper, and limestone into the walls of their main building. Furnaces and constructors turned the raw material into components they could actually use. Bits were syphoned off into the brand new warehouse, a Simone idea, which was storing building materials they would need for the Build Guns.
The rest were being distributed into the brand new second and third floors that were partially completed. More advanced components were being automated up top, and soon they would be ready to start "Smart Plating". Although he didn't understand the technicality of it all, he understood that it was a part with specific instructions for the mysterious "Project: Assembly".
On the top floor, Thomas was assisting Simone with learning how to use the new Build Gun. Clint and Simone's adventure several days earlier was fruitful, and they were able to secure a working build gun from one of the drop pods while finding a broken one in the wreckage of another crash site.
Clint was analyzing the build gun to try and discern if a fix could be made or if a new one could be constructed. For whatever reason, ADA was anable to share any schematics for how the build gun worked or how to construct new models for the whole team. The AI kept insisting every Pioneer is issued one before deployment.
In his frustration, Clint decided the only fair way was to chose a recipient who could be "issued" the Build Gun and join Thomas as the "Master Builders" of the site. However he decided, he ended up issuing it to Simone stating it made the most sense for the group.
So, after she completed a recap orientation and a small tutorial, Mike was overseeing her on the job training. They were working on a new platform to move the HUB to after Thomas learned they could easily move it with the Build Gun. Clint wanted more protection against the elements, and though moving the HUB to a better more perminant location could help keep them protected as well as allow them to congregate closer to the main factory now that the facility was beginning to take shape.
Simone had just finished laying down the last foundation according to Clint's crudely drawn plan. She sighed, and began her scroll through the blueprints again.
"Alright, Now he wants at least a small wall surrounding it, but we can't put a roof over it because we need the Freighter to be able to lift off if needed." said Thomas.
"Why can't we make any of the fun things," asked Simone, "There's a whole break room set in here. Pinball. Tables. VR Machines!"
"We don't have time for that stuff," said Thomas, "I need you to focus. Clint gave us a very specific game plan."
"But there are bunks in here!" said Simone, "We could finally make our own rooms! There's blueprints for locker rooms! We could take a warm shower."
"Oh, how nice would that be," said Thomas, "But we can't get out of these Pioneer suits, remember?"
"Still. Might be more motivated if our time off felt a little more like home."
"Look, we have to focus," said Thomas, "We need to keep going. We might be able to complete the space elevator part and get a message out about the mix-up here. I need to go."
"You don't like it here," said Simone, "After all this time."
Thomas crossed his arms, "And who would? Most of our food are nutrition cubes. There are so many creatures out there that want to kill us. We're working One hundred and ten hour work weeks. I've almost died countless times. Did I mention the spider nightmares?"
"And us?" asked Simone.
"Oh, where to begin?" said Thomas, "I could go for hours on Mike alone! But that would be against Ficsit's regulations on coworker relations and could create a hostile work environment."
"So... you wouldn't... miss us? At all?"
Thomas looked at Simone, who was knelt down, drawing aimlessly on the foundations with her finger.
"Well... I mean..." Thomas was caught off guard.
"We're all here, in this together," said Simone, "Surely it isn't all a nightmare? Would you really be better off without us?"
"Well... I mean, it's not all bad," said Thomas, "I mean... We;ve gotten really close out here. The only ones on the planet."
"That's all?" asked Simone, looking up from her fake drawing.
"Well, no!" said Thomas, "For instance... Mike is... always there. And... and he tries to crack jokes to lighten the mood... no matter how many times I tell him they are not appropriate for the workplace environment!"
Thomas walked over and knelt down next to Simone, "And there's you, and your... perspective on the world around you."
"I see what you do not," said Simone, "It's so tiring sometimes!"
"And then there's your... little gifts," said Thomas.
"They are wards," said Simone, "You never feel safe. They will ask the planet to look after you."
"Oh..." said Thomas, playing with his thumbs, "I... I didn't know. Have you seriously been doing that for me?"
"For everyone," said Simone, "Mike worries too much of what everyone thinks of him. He knows he doesn't belong and he has a hard time feeling his accomplishments mean anything to the team. His wards try to grow his fragile heart weeds so he can find his self worth."
"He... what?" Thomas blinked, "I... I never knew. I... I spend so much time with him in meetings..."
"Clint feels the weight of this whole operation is on his shoulders," said Simone, "He feels the weight of our failures as his own. He feels he is out of his depth with being foreman."
"How did you..." Thomas pulled up a notepad, and began typing frantically on a keyboard on his arm, "Simone... you are very intuitive."
"It's why all his wards are plants," said Simone, "He needs to feel he can succeed in keeping things alive."
"And what about you, Simone?" asked Thomas, "What wards do you need for yourself?"
Simone looked back to the foundation, "I do not need wards. I am the only one who belongs here. I should be fine. I should be brave. I have the training. That's why the metal eye bird in the sky isn't interested in me as much."
"I... the satellite?" said Thomas, "Wait, so you... you feel since you are the only one actually meant for the Pioneer program, you are... out of place in the group? Is it a... a gender thing? Do you feel we haven't made the environment more open to you?"
"You listen, but you don't see," said Simone.
"Come on, give me a break, Simone," said Thomas, "You're always so... cryptic. I never know what to listen to and where to look."
"You act as if I like being alone," said Simone, "But you aren't the only one who is scared. Maybe the reason dogs and cats bond is because there's no where else to go to!"
Thomas thought for a minute, trying to dissect her words.
"Wait... do you not want me to leave?" he asked, finally.
"We're all in this together," she said, "One must either believe all of it, or none of it. If the ship comes to take you away... who is to say the others will choose to leave me too?"
"Oh... my goodness, Simone."
Thomas plopped down on his behind and crossed his legs. He had no idea how to tackle this.
"It's fine," said Simone, quickly, "This is not work appropriate discussion."
"Actually... it's pretty important," said Thomas, "Simone, I don't hate you guys. I'm not choosing... to leave anyone. I just... I just don't belong here is all. I just need help understanding why I'm here."
"By leaving," said Simone, "It's fine. You can leave. You are always so scared. You'd leave in a moment."
"I am unsure if that's true," said Thomas.
"It is. It is why Clint will not tell you we can build the space elevator now."
Thomas' heart felt like it went ice cold.
"What?"
"Look up the blueprint. We have the materials. Sooner or later he'll need to admit it," said Simone, "But he fears the truth. Why are we all here? Who is meant to be, and who isn't? What is 'Project: Assembly'? He fears what will happen should Ficsit respond to your message detailing the situation."
Thomas sighed. He shook his head, looking over his shoulder to see the HUB. in the center of the field.
"Wow, what a mess we all are, huh?" asked Thomas.
"Yeah," said Simone.
"You think we're somehow the worst of the worst?" asked Thomas, "Sent into space to be... the rejects of Ficsit?"
"Mice," said Simone, "We are data of a caliber unseen."
"Sure," said Thomas, "So... how do you fix a bunch of broken mice?"
"Mice like playing tag," said Simone, "I don't think they like cheese as much as 'the man' says they do."
Thomas found himself stroking the chin of his helmet.
"Mice like tag..." he said, under his breath.
Day 60.
Mike barely had time to duck behind the barrier as rounds slammed into the front face. He could here the 'BLAT. BLAT.' of the opponents firing at him.
"Move up!" came a cry from their team lead.
"We can't take them! We're surrounded!" shouted Mike.
"We can flank them," pointed Simone from her cover, "Look, if we head up alongside-"
A round slammed into her arm. Red plume of liquid sprayed out, and she pulled back her arm screaming. She stepped out from her cover backwards, and thats when they got her.
Three more rounds slammed into her back. She threw up her arms in defeat. She slowly fell to her knees, before falling onto her face.
"SIMONE!" yelled Mike, "NOOOO!"
"They got me," said Simone, her voice quivering.
"You sons of Hogs!" shouted Mike.
He rose from behind his barrier, and he brandished his weapon. The gun popped out round after round as quickly as he could pull the trigger.
Blat. Blat. Blat.
He saw the first target, rushing the barrier. He was caught out in the open, and Mike got three shots right into his chest. Mike dived over the barrier, the shots from the second opponent missing as he was in the air.
He pulled the trigger on his weapon, but only a single round was fired. Blat.
The round soared through the air, and went directly into the path the other opponent was stumbling backwards to cover. The round slammed into his helmet, and a blue splash painted his faceplate.
Mike crawled back over to Simone, who was coughing.
"We got 'em, partner," said Mike, "You are avenged."
"Tell Hari," quivered Simone, "That he owes me 20 credits."
"You'll tell 'em yourself!" said Mike, "MEDIC! MEDIC!"
"Guys..." sighed Clint.
"I'm... so cold... sergeant," said Simone, "I can't... feel my legs."
"Oh... Simone," said Mike, "You ain't got any legs! They blew them off with that tank!"
"It's getting real uncomfortable, you two," said Clint, "Do we have to go through this every time?"
"YES!" said Mike, standing, "It provides atmosphere."
Clint was standing not far off. He was covered in blue paint, and he tossed his used paint canister aside. He eyed the paint gun in his hand.
"Is 'atmosphere' a part of the exercise, Patel?"
"I suppose so," said Thomas.
Thomas stumbled over, desperately trying to remove paint from his helmet.
"It's more fun this way," said Mike, "It really helps getting us trained in how to deal with the loss of a hero."
"Is that you, BaBa?" came Simone's exaggerated whisper.
"I still feel this was wasting time," said Clint.
"You're only grumpy because apparently Mike and Simone should have had the rifle when we landed," said Thomas, "Besides, this is efficient. We're training on the new Ficsit paint guns. We're doing corporate mandated teamwork training, and this also works as a sort of... recharge, and reward."
"Reward?" said Clint.
"Because we have all the materials we need for the space elevator."
Clint pocketed his paint gun, and looked around him.
"Do we, now?" said Clint, "Says who?"
"Your own goal sheets," said Thomas, "We've been checking off milestones and stockpiling supplies. We have power and a solid production center now. There isn't much more we can do without taking the next major step, foreman."
"Well... of course," said Clint, "It's just... this would be a big-"
"Not really," said Thomas, "Now that we have the magic Build Guns? We basically can do it in the snap of a finger."
"Oh! I have been waiting for this!" said Mike, "We have GOT to build an elevator to SPACE!"
"Don't let... let the metal eye bird... take my body..." groaned Simone.
"Impossible," continued Clint, "We need to find... a place to build it. It would need to be large. Close to the base, but not too close. It would involve clearing out a whole section and building up foundations-"
"You are standing on it, Clint," said Thomas, "We just need to remove the barriers and stuff, of course... but this paintball course is on the future platform for our space elevator. Already done."
Clint looked around with new understanding. He rubbed his helmet as if scratching his head.
"Looked at my map, did you?" he mumbled.
"I thought this through, Clint," said Thomas, patting him on the shoulder, "It's time to salvage what numbers we can. We're still behind schedule, but we at least are an understandable amount. We've done a lot in the last few weeks. Now? Now let's get caught up. Get ahead."
"Of course," said Clint, who nodded before repeating, "Of course. I hope you are rested and feeling very teamworked."
"I'm dying," continued Simone.
"It's time to clean this place up," said Clint, "Thomas, I hope you'll do the honors. Let's build a space elevator!"
The hologram was massive. Despite standing back, Thomas was shocked at how huge the base actually was. However, he also felt that for a space elevator, it looked real short. Still, he had trouble lining it up on the platform they had built earlier.
Clint gave his ok, and Mike and Simone were too excitedly looking into the sky to notice Thomas' questioning glance. In the end, Thomas had to carefully hold the Build Gun with two hands, and slowly pull the trigger.
The order was placed. Almost instantly Thomas felt the massive amounts of building material leave his pocket dimension. The Build Game shined a beam, and slowly the outline of the base glowed as a massive hologram. Slowly it began to materialize from the bottom up.
In the end, it took the longest of anything Thomas had attempted to construct. Even as it began to form, it was glowing a hot orange for several minutes. When the glow began to die down, what was left was a base with three, crab-like legs reaching out into the sky.
The group stood around in silence. Thomas sighed, looking through the blueprint to see if there was something they had missed.
Suddenly a siren rang out. Lights began flashing on the base. Thomas looked to Clint, who shrugged.
"AH!" shouted Mike, pointing to the sky, "Lookit! Here she comes!"
From the sky, an object could be seen steadily getting larger. As it got closer, its speed could be seen as going extremely fast. It looked like a massive metal rod falling from the sky, with a chandelier towards one end. It came down, almost exactly over the base they just created.
It slowed at the last moment, and then steadily lowered into the base. The arms sprung into motion, and lifted up. Suddenly the object from space was raised up, again, and the hooked arms scraped against the base of the object.
Thomas could now spot the massive metal rod was actually some type of hose, with a hollow center. The very base of it had slits perfect for the legs of the base. Sure enough, reaching the right height the legs locked in, and held the tube in place. tugging it down a little more, a connector rose up from the base, and plugged into the object stretching down from the sky.
The siren stopped blaring, and all at once, the structure seemed to settle.
"The space elevator is the primary way Pioneers will transfer pivotal components in bulk for Project: Assembly," said ADA over everyone's comms, "You can now access the elevator terminal to see the parts you should be working towards."
"Alright," said Clint, "Pioneer Gunn, would you do the honors?"
"That I can, sir," smiled Mike.
Mike sprinted up to the base of the Space Elevator. Removing stack after stack from his pocket dimension, he filled a large container full of smart plating they had been making. As Clint had predicted, they had stockpiled enough before the creating of the Space Elevator in order to complete their first shipment.
The container was closed and pushed into the port on the base. Through the terminal, Mike sealed the container, before pushing down the lever to send it up.
The lights began to pulse all the way up the space elevator. The chandalier part of the design seemed to lower and sway as the space elevator moved. Suddenly, the base shot up a birt of energy, and the chandelier part was thrown up the tube and disappeared way up above.
"Our first shipment!" said Clint.
"Wow," said Thomas, "Amazing."
"Ficsit Inc is glad you are making progress," said ADA, "You have earned a series of new milestones into phase three and four of Ficsit's plans at your work site. Please continue to progress to further Project: Assembly."
"Ooo," said Simone, "More toys?"
"More blueprints?" asked Mike as he arrived back.
"More work..." sighed Thomas.
"Well... there's only one thing left to do," said Clint, "I think you should come with me, lad."
In the HUB, the team stood around Clint typing away on the computer. He finished up the complaint form, and added it to the folder of his entire report. He turned to Thomas.
"Anything left to add on, Mr. Patel?"
"No, I think you covered it," said Thomas.
"When I send this, there's no going back," said Clint, "And there's no telling what Ficsit Corporate will tell us when we get information back."
Thomas nodded, "Maybe you guys can get some better replacements?"
"Aw, shucks little man," said Mike, "I doubt there is a replacement for you. As far as I'm concerned, you're our only HR Guy."
Thomas rolled his eyes, "I am your only HR guy."
"Alright, compressing," said Clint, who hit a few keys.
"So, what happens while we wait?" asked Thomas.
"I bargain that... today was a big day," said Clint, "We have a space elevator, sent up our first shipment. I can nae help but feel that's about enough for one day. How about I send everyone to personal time after this. Allow us to rest after such a large milestone."
"Oh, ain't that something!" said Mike, "We'll just let everything run and maybe we can get back to some paintball!"
"I think I'll... wait for a response," said Thomas.
"To this message? Well... you'll be in here a long, long time," said Clint.
"What do you mean?"
Clint typed out a few more keys, and hit enter, "And, sending. It'll take a few minutes to send the compressed file, but the message will be out in the stars soon. We should hear back anywhere from... a week... two week to... a year?"
"A YEAR?" Thomas went stiff, "But... but..."
"Well, yeah, lad," said Clint, "It's a space elevator that connects us to the satellite. It's not a miracle worker. We're sending a message countless lightyears through space to the closest Ficsit relay and then that will send it to someone in corporate. Plus how long it take corporate to get to it and decide on a course of action."
"But... but..." Thomas plopped down on the floor, holding his helmet in his hands.
"Of course... I suppose we could always build a relay of radio towers," said Clint, "I believe they include something similar in our Ficsit blueprints. But they are nae easy to make. They would make it a lot easier to communicate around here."
"That sounds great!" said Mike, "We'll expand the factory and we'll get better components."
"We'll explore, and find the secrets," said Simone.
"Alright, alright," said Clint, "Let me go see what the new milestones are. Perhaps we can get a few done right away. We'll see if there's anything interesting we should work towards."
"Oh god..." said Thomas, "A whole year? Here?"
"It'll be fun," said Mike.
"We'll design ourselves a room!" said Simone.
The team continued making future plans. Even as the elevator lowered once more, they barely noticed it. They would party into the night, celebrating their accomplishments, and Thomas would come around, joining in the festivities.
All the while, no one noticed the faint humming sound of a flying thing just outside of camp. It's yellow body and spinning turbines brought it closer to the camp. It had a single camera lens, that adjusted focus and zoom as it took in the surrounding area. It noted the space elevator, as well as the small factory.
The camera zoomed in on a lizard dog creature, curled up outside of a Ficsit Inc HUB. Switching to thermal, the object could spot the figures, standing around inside, apparently talking.
Miles away, in a dark room surrounded by monitors, two figures glared at the screen.
"Four of them," said one of the figures.
"Ficsit?"
"It appears so... they at least have Ficsit tech."
"Hmm... we'll access their databases and see what we can find out," said the second figure, "But I'm not ready to reveal ourselves yet."
"ADA," commanded the first figure, "Ghost command, all information concerning the worksite near scout 33-22B."
"Accessing... Work Site recognized," said ADA, "Ficsit Inc Worksite Nine-Two-Two-Seven-Six-Five-Three-Three."
"Three... three? Interesting..." said the second figure.
"Would you like to be connected to their foreman? Pioneer Nine-Two-Two-Seven-Six-Five-Three-Three-A?"
"Negative, ADA," said the second figure, "I want all their personel files and reports, immediately. Ghost command. I don't want them to know."
"What about the scout?" asked the first figure, "Should I continue to keep an eye on them?"
The other figure turned away from the screen, saying nothing for a few moments.
"Lower our passes until after their files can be reviewed," said the second figure, "But we'll keep a steady eye on them. Don't be seen."
"Yes, Foreman," said the first figure, "As you wish."
"For tonight, recall the scout," said the second figure, "Return to worksite Nine-Two-Two-Seven-Six-Five-Three-One. Join me in the meeting room when you are done. We have much to go over..."