Chapter 7
Armann was watching a movie inside the dark stone cellar. It was one of the ones Opal had given him. The three holographic film microchips from five or six decades ago had been playing on repeat inside the narrow space from the projector that Opal had purchased from the merchant.
Most miners couldn’t read and relied on visual media to entertain themselves. In fact, living in a highly technologically advanced era meant that everything could be communicated through either audio or video, making reading a less essential skill to have. But the rate at which information could be conveyed through text still far exceeded that of audio and video formats. Scenes that could have easily been described with a single sentence would often take several minutes of holographic videos.
The female and male leads embraced one another on the holographic projector in the corner of the stone cellar.
“Oh, Andaroth—” a faint, fuzzy voice echoed from the egg-shaped projector.
Armann watched the scene in silence. The volume was turned down low. Three girls were chatting in a different corner of the cellar, Anya included.
Opal walked up to the projector to turn it off. Armann focused on him. “You’ve come back? Opal?”
“Opal!” Anya’s eyes lit up. The girls talked amongst themselves in hushed voices, sounding surprised.
“Anya.” Opal bowed forward slightly to greet her. His eyes were clear and his wheat-coloured skin was vibrant with health. He was like a different person from before. “How come you decided to come back?” Anya asked, smiling.
“Just checking up on you guys.” Opal lowered his voice, “Armann, I’ve got a plan. It concerns the futures of all of us.”
“Anya, go get us something to eat please,” Armann said.
After Anya left to get food, her friends smiled and began making teasing remarks, “Opal, when do you plan on marrying Anya?”
Opal’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. His attempt at smiling was awkward at best. “I….”
Armann didn’t let this line of conversation continue. “What’s your plan?”
Locke interjected also, “What exactly did you go through out there? Did you just kill a sandbat?”
Armann’s expression shifted. “How did you kill a sandbat?”
Opal sat on a wooden chair, the tips of his fingers touched as he folded his hands together. “My meister taught me. You remember, Locke. The man you saw me pick up from the middle of the desert.”
Opal told Armann a bit, albeit selectively, of what happened in the days that he was gone. He avoided mentioning his abilities like Will Craft, as well as Lektor’s identity. Finally, he revealed his entire plan.
Locke and Armann looked quite stunned by the time he finished.
“Is the outside world really like that?” Locke’s voice trembled.
Opal confirmed with a nod. “I saw it on his microchip. A lot of planets are far better off than B-11.”
Armann spoke with a low voice, “I knew about this as well. That’s why I kept wanting to send Anya away. She shouldn’t have to suffer along with us. But Opal, have you thought this through? We only know how to work in the mines. There’s no other work we know how to do. How are we supposed to survive on Coccina? We’d have to come back in the end.”
“That’s because we’ve never been properly educated!” Opal said angrily but tried to keep his voice contained. “Our parents were slaves, so we’re also slaves! Slavery isn’t allowed under the Interstellar Charter of Rights. Everyone should have the chance to make their own choices. If this plan works out, I think we’ll all be able to gain citizenship from Ignitis and start over. Come on, we should resist and fight.”
“But you’re different,” Armann replied heatedly. “You’re someone who can single-handedly slaughter sandbats now. Us? We’re just gonna get beaten to death by the foremen! Hicks just has to give Locke[1] a blow to the back of his head, then drag him off to the mines and claim that he died from a collapsed mine. And there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”
Opal responded, “You don’t need to take Hicks head-on. I can handle all of that. With greater power comes greater responsibility. I’m well aware of that. You just need to help me with one task. I need evidence of that mining disaster. That and the purchase details of every trade market on this planet.”
“I know that the merchants who trade with us all have to pay a large portion of their profits to Black Rock Mining. Somebody let it slip last time,” Armann said.
“You’ve known this whole time? Why didn’t you tell us?” Opal asked.
But Armann just shook his head. Opal continued, “Someone has to rebel, Armann.”
Locke jumped in, “I’ll go! What do you need me to do? I don’t wanna stay in this damn place anymore.”
“Thanks, buddy.” Opal patted Locke on the shoulder. Locke asked, “Armann, what’cha still waiting for? Join us.”
Armann was thinking, Opal realized as he narrowed his eyes. He could almost feel the way the cogs were turning inside Armann’s head: he was scared that Anya would be put in danger if they were exposed.
“What are you all chatting about?” Anya came over with some bread and water. “Armann?”[2]
Opal took the water from her. “Thank you, Anya.”
Opal’s eyes fell on Armann, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Was that telepathy just now? Was this the type of power he could obtain after carving out his own Mental Realm? Lektor had never mentioned it to him before.
Anya stared at the three of them with unease. Then she turned to leave and addressed the other girls quietly, “Let’s go outside.”
The wooden door shut behind them. “If you’re worried about Anya, I can try to send her off first,” Opal suggested.
“You can?” Armann asked.
Opal hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I need a sure answer,” Armann insisted.
“I will. For sure.”
“I know about a recording. It’s the security recording used to monitor our everyday operations. It should be in Hicks’ office.”
“Let’s steal it?” Locke asked.
“Great! Where are the transaction records from the trade market?” Opal asked.
“I don’t know. But there should be copies. The data room has a pretty thorough security system. It’s not easy to get in. Also, aside from the printed receipts given to us, all other data is stored inside the central surveillance office. How are we supposed to get the data?”
Opal got up. “We’re going to go steal the microchip. Right now.”
“But what if they come back and discover that the microchip was gone?” Locke asked.
“We’ll make a copy. I have an info-transcriber.[3] Draw me a map.”
“I’ll lead the way. I had to look for Hicks last time. The digital surveillance center is pretty far from here. It’s really cold so make sure to prepare some winter supplies,” Armann said.
The three of them began their preparations immediately. Even now, Locke sounded like he was still in a dream-like trance. “We can really leave this place? What if we don’t make it work and end up dead?” he muttered.
“I swear on my life that you’ll all live through it,” Opal said.
Armann nodded in acknowledgment. “If we don’t live through it together, then at least we’ll die together.”
“What exactly are you planning on doing?” Anya asked nervously.
The three of them were wearing winter-proof clothing. “Prepare some food. We’ll be back soon. Don’t ask too many questions, Anya,” Armann placated.
Opal lifted the energy furnace up into Armann’s hut. The door to the outside was frozen shut. The moment he used Will Craft to open the door, snow began pouring inside the hut, drowning them in the wild winds that filled the space.
Once the coldest day of winter passed, the pale sun began climbing up from the horizon once more, its rise and fall marking the passing of another day. It was no longer snowing on B-11 and the weather was warming up. They made their way upwind in the snowfield. There was still a long road ahead.
They walked for three days and three nights before entering the vicinity of a different mining village. There were tens of millions of people living here, making it the largest mining hub on B-11. The mines occupied by these miners were also richer in ores. A man who bent down to bury something in the ground straightened his back and called out to them from afar. “Who’s there?”
He wore a blank expression, but seemed wary as he stared as Armann’s approaching party.
Opal spoke, “Just passing by. The weather’s been good so we’re out walking. What’re you doing?”
Armann walked over with a lamp in hand and saw a shallow pit in the snow. Inside it was a naked body of a child whose skin had already turned blue.
“I’m burying my youngest son.” The man was blind in his right eye and stared at them with his good eye.
“You should at least put some clothes on him,” Locke commented.
“Fabric is too expensive,” the man said. “Winter’s too cold and the kid didn’t make it. My wife is nearly gone too.”
The man introduced himself. His name was Ugo Myrd. Opal and everyone else also gave their names. Ugo spoke, “Come in and sit by the fire. Do you have any meds on you? I can trade you some rhodovena crystals for them, though there ain’t much of it.”
“We don’t have any meds on us,” Opal responded.
Ugo brought them inside the hut. His wife was in bed, coughing. Her face was completely flushed and her chest heaved like a windbox.
“Why not carry her down to the cellar?” Armann asked.
“Heat cough,”[4] Opal noted. “It can spread easily. This disease shouldn’t exist in a place like this. How did she catch it?”
Ugo agreed. “She needs an antibiotic solution to get rid of the inflammation, but we don’t have any. I bought her a pair of shoes at the trade market before winter. There were blisters on her toes after she wore it that got infected. And now she’s like this.”
Opal pulled back the blanket draped across Ugo’s wife’s feet and peered over. Her feet were swollen like balloons.
Ugo fixed his good eye on the three of them. “She’s definitely not going to make it. It’s all my fault.”
He held her hand in his. Despite his cold, expressionless appearance, his left eye held a hint of tender warmth as he looked at her.
“Do you know where the warehouse is?” Opal asked.
“You plan on looting it?” Ugo asked in return.
“I’ll help you look for the meds…. I’ll try at least. No promises.”
“Opal,” Armann warned.
Opal gestured at them to stay silent. If Ugo knew the whereabouts of the warehouse, there might be other things worth taking, perhaps even batteries. It was important that he tried for Lektor’s sake.
“I can show you the way. There’s a director on duty in the data room though,” Ugo mentioned.
That took the three of them by surprise, but Opal had thought of a better way.
“You follow us. We’ve got to do something first,” Opal said.
So Ugo joined their party. Armann set out again, leading them up towards the hill where a five-storey alloy building was embedded in a jagged stone wall. Its front entrance was tightly shut.
“I can only take you till this point,” Arman said. “There’s no key. They locked all the tunnels when they left.”
Opal spoke, “There must be a way. We can try climbing in from the vents. Look over there, on the fourth level.”
They followed where Opal was pointing and saw an air duct along the smooth alloy wall.
“It’s too high up. We can’t,” Locke commented. “There’s no way.”
Opal spoke with his head tilted upwards, “We can do it. Let’s give it a shot.”
Opal took E7 out of his pack and stuck it along the alloy wall before tying a rope around its body. The magnetic tracks on E7 began rotating as it carried the rope and trekked straight along the wall, stopping once it reached the top of the alloy building. Then, it went around an antenna on the building three times to secure the rope. Opal pulled on the rope and made sure it was stable before jumping onto the wall and began climbing.
The wind was biting cold as the four of them made their way up along the icy walls in a single file. The vent was welded shut from the inside. It didn’t seem to budge in the slightest no matter how hard Opal shook it.
“It’s too cold….” Armann said behind him. “Can you open it?”
“Wait just a little bit more! Hold on tight!” Opal called out.
He focused his Will and sought where the welded vent was connected to the wall. Sixteen screws with a special configuration were drilled in a criss-cross fashion along the vent window. It required a kind of multi-screwhead device to take them out at the same time.
He divided his Will and quietly observed each of the screws.
One. Two. They began slowly spinning in a clockwise fashion. Then with a clang, the loosened screws rolled deeper into the vent where darkness awaited.
“There’s a security system inside!” Armann shouted.
Opal immediately cracked open the vent window with his sword and, with a push of his body, squeezed into the vent. He extended his arm, fingers motioned as though to tighten around something. All sixteen screws came at his summons and flew right into the palm of his hand.
“You guys be careful!” Opal projected his voice.
The vent was on a 60 degree downward slant. Opal slid along with his head towards the ground. As he got to the edge of the vent, he reached out and took hold of a horizontal bar near the vent exit. His body spun in an arc and hung in midair.
His surroundings were engulfed entirely in darkness except for the eerie green glow from the emergency lights. This was a hallway, he realized. The camera on the ceiling across from him was slowly turning to face where Opal was.
With a fling of his hand, Opal threw his cloak on top of the camera to cover it. Then, he let go of the bar he was holding and landed on his feet.
The other three slipped down from the tunnel—Armann, then Locke, followed by one-eyed Ugo—and landed on top of Opal one after another.
“Where do we go from here?” Opal asked.
“To the central data room. Follow me,” said Armann.
As they passed a set of emergency stairs, Opal peered in from the entrance and saw that there were quite a few metal pipes used for structural reinforcement.
“I’ve been trying to dig into this place from the outside. Steal some meds for Sil.[5] The tunnel is only about five meters away from the building,” Ugo commented.
“Even if you managed to dig through to the base of these walls,” Locke commented, dumbfound, “there’s no way you’d be able to pierce through those metals. What were you thinking?”
“Better than doing nothing at all,” Ugo responded.
Opal examined the map on the wall and a thought popped into his head. They might be able to leave through the tunnel that Ugo dug up later.
“What’s the matter?” Armann asked him.
“The warehouse is beneath this building,” he responded.
“That’s right. What about it?”
Opal shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
He peeked out from the corner, then immediately retracted behind the wall, gesturing for them to keep silent.
The light on the third floor was fully lit. A short man passed through the hallway to get water. The entire floor was cosy and warm, and well-equipped with all sorts of supplies. The Prince of Opera, Lejersen, was playing in the background inside the office.
“We need to think of a way to lure him out,” Opal said. “Oh crap—”
Since Ugo only had one good eye, he didn’t manage to see what was beside him on his right-hand side. He knocked over a pipe that was leaning against the wall as he turned. By the time it fell down the stairs, it was too late for Opal to do anything about it. A loud clang echoed in the silent staircase.
Another clang.
And another.
Translator’s Notes:
Ivory Crescent 
And the revolution begins… They are so under prepare. I hope everything goes well.
Thanks for the chapter!
thank you for the chapter💜