Here's the first chapter, up for you guys. I hope you like it. My sister
says that I'm Underground bashing...I'm not, am I? It wasn't my intention to
when I wrote this.
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A man stood over a complex computer, staring at the large hunk of machinery. Blue lights would flash on the screen at intervals, lighting up odd, unreadable symbols. The symbols weren't ones used in the Precursor language; they were different, and more complicated, not readable by the common man.
As the symbols flashed in an almost mystical procession, the man standing over them continued to watch, eyes moving back and forth across it, though not visible under thick glasses. Then, cautiously, the man lifted a gloved hand into the air, and fingers gently selected on of the flashing symbols. Immediately after the hand's contact, the rest of the symbols began to blink more quickly. He lifted his other hand as well, and carefully chose another one, and he set to work.
His fingers moved nimbly across the screen, submitting and selecting all the symbols in turn. There were more screens around the man, as this was a laboratory. His laboratory, in fact, as he was the only one who knew how to operate it. The screens around the main one began to spew out numbers and figures, almost too quickly for the eye to catch.
The noise level also increased, the bleeping and quiet sirens were ringing in his long, pointed ears. His fingers kept moving, and he gave an air of someone who knew what they were doing.
A few of the fingertips of his gloves had even been worn away by the constant typing. But this didn't slow him down for a second. Every once in a while, the man would stop, looking up at the dazzling figures on the screen. He'd scratch the leather cap that seemed to always adorn his head, which hid his strikingly white hair. The he'd stop, as though figuring the solution to whatever problem had probed his mind. His nimble hands returned to the computer, where he would begin typing madly once more.
This pattern would continue for hours without rest, but the man didn't seem to care. He was too absorbed in his to care. He was the only one in the entire city who could work the shield wall system, this he knew. But instead of the smug, proud expression that one might expect on the face of such a brilliant man, his face was etched with worry. It had been ever more so of late, as he was fully aware tof the fact that he alone was keeping the shield walls of the city from collapsing.
He knew this, and in all honesty, the thought scared him. A misplaced finger on the flashing blue screen could mean the destruction of the city, and countless lives taken, including his own.
Usually, this fact was logged away in the back of his mind, a little nagging reminder to keep him on task. But in this day and age, with the metal heads' constant attacks to Haven, it was more of a blaring siren. It did keep him on task, but each day it made him fall farther and farther into a panic. It took a lot of concentration for him to keep his head, even in everyday conversation.
One gloved finger pressed the last fluorescent symbol, and, as suddenly as they all had begun blinking, they stopped, each silently glowing brightly, reflecting in the man's glasses.
A robotic-sounding woman's voice came in over a speaker above his head. He unknowingly held his breath, waiting to see if his efforts had been in vain.
"Computation complete. City defenses still activated." She stated in a monotone. At the news, the man slumped over the glowing computer in relief, heart now slowing to a normal rate.
"Thank Mar..." he breathed. Unfortunately, this suspense was a normal part of his everyday duties. With each passing day, the suspense grew until it threatened to drive him mad. But thankfully, the shield walls had stayed up.
He stared at the metal-plated door to his little laboratory, knowing that no creatures would be at it, today at least. His mind, now free from the concentration needed for the computers, wandered back to his previous statement. Thank Mar...he should thank Mar. They all should. Though in Haven it was often used as a simple cry of relief, it meant more to him.
He told nearly no one, but Mar was his personal idol. Of course, he was the founder of the city in which he dwelled in, but that wasn't the reason. Mar, brilliant mind that he was, had in fact created the shield wall system he currently operated. The man knew that he could only brush the vastness of Mar's mind, but hoped that maybe he could be a genius, like the founder of Haven. The fame, though tempting, didn't matter to him. Just to be recognized as a genius like Mar would be his personal fantasy come true. But this didn't make him pompous. It just wasn't his personality to be such.
The fact of the metal heads also prevented this from happening.
Vin was the man's name. Hearing his name had 'different' effects on certain people. With his bosses, the formidable Krimzon Guards, his position was only compared to dirt. They didn't care either way. They would have more willingly shot Vin than to speak to him, as it was with the guards. But they kept him alive, for they knew the fact as well as Vin himself: He was one of the only people keeping the metal heads from destroying their home.
When Vin's name was whispered amongst the members of the rebel cause, the 'Underground', as they liked to be called, it was almost a joke. He was merely a joke to them, and being employed under the Baron automatically cut him down to sludge-comparison. They called his actions 'cowardice', but cowardice it wasn't.
They didn't, and couldn't, have known. Have known the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. The pressing, looming thought of the shield wall's destruction. The fact that every day, Vin had a feeling he was close to his death, but toiled endlessly onward...and they didn't know. And because of this, Vin didn't blame them.
He watched the computer continue to rattle off technical jargon, not understood by everyday Haven City dwellers. Behind the glasses, strapped around the base of his ears, his eyes watched the soft glow of the symbols, having finally decided to rest from their mad flurry earlier. He listened to the soft humming of the complex machines.
It was all beginning to make his eyelids feel heavier by the minute. That day he had worked significantly faster than the last few. Of course, it wasn't for bonus points with the Baron, or anything like that, nor the promise of a raise. It was the attacks on the city's defenses. He could almost feel as each metal monster would bash its cranium against the shield wall. And every day the feeling grew, looming dread hanging over the scientist's head. It wasn't an option to work his fingers to the bone. He needed to; he knew his place, his purpose. He just prayed he could keep the city safe and fulfill it.
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If you're this far, and you're not clicking the review button, you're evil. Or lazy. They go well together, don't you think?
____________________
A man stood over a complex computer, staring at the large hunk of machinery. Blue lights would flash on the screen at intervals, lighting up odd, unreadable symbols. The symbols weren't ones used in the Precursor language; they were different, and more complicated, not readable by the common man.
As the symbols flashed in an almost mystical procession, the man standing over them continued to watch, eyes moving back and forth across it, though not visible under thick glasses. Then, cautiously, the man lifted a gloved hand into the air, and fingers gently selected on of the flashing symbols. Immediately after the hand's contact, the rest of the symbols began to blink more quickly. He lifted his other hand as well, and carefully chose another one, and he set to work.
His fingers moved nimbly across the screen, submitting and selecting all the symbols in turn. There were more screens around the man, as this was a laboratory. His laboratory, in fact, as he was the only one who knew how to operate it. The screens around the main one began to spew out numbers and figures, almost too quickly for the eye to catch.
The noise level also increased, the bleeping and quiet sirens were ringing in his long, pointed ears. His fingers kept moving, and he gave an air of someone who knew what they were doing.
A few of the fingertips of his gloves had even been worn away by the constant typing. But this didn't slow him down for a second. Every once in a while, the man would stop, looking up at the dazzling figures on the screen. He'd scratch the leather cap that seemed to always adorn his head, which hid his strikingly white hair. The he'd stop, as though figuring the solution to whatever problem had probed his mind. His nimble hands returned to the computer, where he would begin typing madly once more.
This pattern would continue for hours without rest, but the man didn't seem to care. He was too absorbed in his to care. He was the only one in the entire city who could work the shield wall system, this he knew. But instead of the smug, proud expression that one might expect on the face of such a brilliant man, his face was etched with worry. It had been ever more so of late, as he was fully aware tof the fact that he alone was keeping the shield walls of the city from collapsing.
He knew this, and in all honesty, the thought scared him. A misplaced finger on the flashing blue screen could mean the destruction of the city, and countless lives taken, including his own.
Usually, this fact was logged away in the back of his mind, a little nagging reminder to keep him on task. But in this day and age, with the metal heads' constant attacks to Haven, it was more of a blaring siren. It did keep him on task, but each day it made him fall farther and farther into a panic. It took a lot of concentration for him to keep his head, even in everyday conversation.
One gloved finger pressed the last fluorescent symbol, and, as suddenly as they all had begun blinking, they stopped, each silently glowing brightly, reflecting in the man's glasses.
A robotic-sounding woman's voice came in over a speaker above his head. He unknowingly held his breath, waiting to see if his efforts had been in vain.
"Computation complete. City defenses still activated." She stated in a monotone. At the news, the man slumped over the glowing computer in relief, heart now slowing to a normal rate.
"Thank Mar..." he breathed. Unfortunately, this suspense was a normal part of his everyday duties. With each passing day, the suspense grew until it threatened to drive him mad. But thankfully, the shield walls had stayed up.
He stared at the metal-plated door to his little laboratory, knowing that no creatures would be at it, today at least. His mind, now free from the concentration needed for the computers, wandered back to his previous statement. Thank Mar...he should thank Mar. They all should. Though in Haven it was often used as a simple cry of relief, it meant more to him.
He told nearly no one, but Mar was his personal idol. Of course, he was the founder of the city in which he dwelled in, but that wasn't the reason. Mar, brilliant mind that he was, had in fact created the shield wall system he currently operated. The man knew that he could only brush the vastness of Mar's mind, but hoped that maybe he could be a genius, like the founder of Haven. The fame, though tempting, didn't matter to him. Just to be recognized as a genius like Mar would be his personal fantasy come true. But this didn't make him pompous. It just wasn't his personality to be such.
The fact of the metal heads also prevented this from happening.
Vin was the man's name. Hearing his name had 'different' effects on certain people. With his bosses, the formidable Krimzon Guards, his position was only compared to dirt. They didn't care either way. They would have more willingly shot Vin than to speak to him, as it was with the guards. But they kept him alive, for they knew the fact as well as Vin himself: He was one of the only people keeping the metal heads from destroying their home.
When Vin's name was whispered amongst the members of the rebel cause, the 'Underground', as they liked to be called, it was almost a joke. He was merely a joke to them, and being employed under the Baron automatically cut him down to sludge-comparison. They called his actions 'cowardice', but cowardice it wasn't.
They didn't, and couldn't, have known. Have known the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. The pressing, looming thought of the shield wall's destruction. The fact that every day, Vin had a feeling he was close to his death, but toiled endlessly onward...and they didn't know. And because of this, Vin didn't blame them.
He watched the computer continue to rattle off technical jargon, not understood by everyday Haven City dwellers. Behind the glasses, strapped around the base of his ears, his eyes watched the soft glow of the symbols, having finally decided to rest from their mad flurry earlier. He listened to the soft humming of the complex machines.
It was all beginning to make his eyelids feel heavier by the minute. That day he had worked significantly faster than the last few. Of course, it wasn't for bonus points with the Baron, or anything like that, nor the promise of a raise. It was the attacks on the city's defenses. He could almost feel as each metal monster would bash its cranium against the shield wall. And every day the feeling grew, looming dread hanging over the scientist's head. It wasn't an option to work his fingers to the bone. He needed to; he knew his place, his purpose. He just prayed he could keep the city safe and fulfill it.
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If you're this far, and you're not clicking the review button, you're evil. Or lazy. They go well together, don't you think?