Deeper Darker

First Quadrant Border

Central Authority Space Station New Haven

Hall of the First Trial

“There’s no need to look so concerned,” said Ubik. “Health insurance is included with the application fee. Nobody dies — well, hardly ever — and everyone gets free replacement limbs. If there’s one thing the Central Authority is good at, it’s switching body parts. Years of experience. Once you get to be a Guardian, they give you a new body every couple of years, whether you want it or not.”

“I’m not concerned,” said PT. “Not for you. It’s the rest of these idiots that worry me.”

He glanced around at the people waiting in line for their turn. They all clearly knew their chances were poor to non-existent, but they were still intent on having their shot, and paying royally for the privilege.

“You feel sorry for them?” said Ubik. “You really have to get that empathy of yours under control. Look at Fig, he doesn’t care.”

Fig frowned. “It’s not that I don’t care. I just don’t think there’s any reasonable way to convince them there are better options. Maybe there aren’t.”

“See, he can’t even be bothered to come up with a decent excuse for not caring, that’s how little he cares.”

The screen, which was still showing people getting decimated by their robotic opponents, suddenly went black for a moment, and then a single word appeared.

PASS.

A deafening cheer went up around the hall.

“We have the first passing applicant of the day,” boomed a voice. “Regal Stardvelt, congratulations for passing the first trial.”

A picture appeared of a young blond man in a damaged suit, with his arms raised triumphantly. His helmet was broken in half, revealing his tear-streaked, battered and bruised face. He looked barely able to stand.

Behind him were several other applicants lying on the ground, not moving, and behind them was a slightly out of focus humanoid robot with its head missing.

There were more shouts and cheers. Hope had flourished at the sight of a successful applicant.

“That’s an S grade battlebot,” said Fig. “They were used to take down low atmosphere jet fighters during the last Internecine War.”

“Yeah, antiques,” said Ubik. “Surprised they can still stand up. Nice they found a use for them.”

“I wonder how he did it,” said PT, craning his neck as he looked up at the screen. “He doesn’t look all that different to the rest of them.”

“Starveldt,” mused Fig. “I’m sure I’ve heard that name before. They make starship engines, don’t they?”

“Oh, yeah,” said PT. “I’ve heard of them. You think he’s related?”

“Terrible, terrible engines,” said Ubik. “Used to turn up in my junkyard all the time. Practically brand new and unfixable.”

“Well, he’s a survivor. At least that means it’s possible for people to pass this stupid test,” said PT.

“This is just the first trial,” said Ubik. “It gets a lot harder.”

The rim around the circular door in front of them turned green. There was a hiss as it rotated, opening like an iris as it did so. Nobody came out.

“It looks like they change the level of difficulty depending on how many people go in,” said Fig. “Are you sure you don’t want us to wait here?”

“Makes no difference,” said Ubik. “You’re here to learn, remember.”

“What are we going to learn from you?” said PT. “How to make all the wrong choices and win anyway?”

“Would you not want to learn how to do that?” said Ubik.

PT looked like he wanted to say something, but he shut his mouth and looked away.

“Okay, Grandma, you know what to do.”

“Of course, dear. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“What is she going to do?” asked Fig.

“Hack their network?” said PT. “Destroy their computer cores? Crash the system?”

“We’re trying to NOT attract attention,” said Ubik. “She’s just going to save us a spot for the next trial.”

“If only 0.0001% of applicants pass the first trial,” said Fig, “will there be many people ahead of us?”

“No,” said Ubik. “But that’s why you have to make an appointment for one. It takes a while to set up. Shall we?”

Ubik stepped through the opening. Fig and PT followed. The gate closed behind them, leaving the drone containing Grandma outside.

There was a short passage that led to a smaller doorway. Past that was a wet room. Full washing facilities, spouts on every wall, polished, drip-dry surfaces.

There was a door on the opposite side of the room, built like an airlock. Ubik went up to it and knocked.

“This is the way in,” he said.

There was a small black screen in the middle of the door with a timer counting down. They had nine minutes and twelve seconds to wait.

“What’s this?” asked PT. He was standing next to a black glass door that was on the left of the doorway they had entered through.

“Vending machine,” said Ubik. “You can order stuff on there. You can get your prearranged gear out of the locker, too.”

Fig tapped on the screen and it lit up, showing a colourful menu. Music played and a perky voice said. “Welcome to the New Haven Store. Accessing account.”

A red light scanned Fig’s barcode.

“You have… no credits available.”

“Bet that’s the first time you’ve heard that,” said Ubik.

“Here, let me try,” said PT. He walked over to Ubik, took him by the shoulders and turned him towards the vending machine.

A red light scanned Ubik’s suit.

“You have… unlimited credit.”

“What a surprise,” said PT. He shoved Ubik aside.

“Interesting,” said Fig, sliding his finger around on the now fully available menu. “Equipment, weapons, whatever you want.”

“Bit expensive, isn’t it?” said PT, looking over his shoulder. “Good thing we have unlimited credit.”

“The bundles are cheaper,” said Fig. “Full offence bundle. Full defence bundle. The Miaow-Miaow bundle — that has helmets with cat ears.”

“Do they sell explosives?” asked PT.

“Yes,” said Fig. “The R&G bundle. Rockets and grenades That’s their bestselling bundle. Oh, people who have bought the R&G bundle have also purchased the sticky bomb bundle.

“Never trust recommendations from an algorithm,” said Ubik. “They’re designed to try and upsell you on everything.”

“I would guess,” said Fig, “since you can order just about anything you want, that most of this stuff is useless. You don’t know what you’ll be facing, or what size room you’ll be in or how many opponents.”

“Well, it would be a nightmare trying to figure out what to take, if we were the ones having to fight whatever’s through there,” said PT. “But since we aren’t, I’ll take a pair of goggles and a waterproof poncho. I don’t like to be splattered with blood and guts.”

Fig entered the code numbers.

“They’re robots,” said Ubik, “they don’t have blood and guts.”

“No,” said PT, “but you do.”

“Do you really have so little faith in me?”

“Your luck’s going to run out at some point,” said PT. “Hope for the best, expect Ubik. That’s my motto.”

“Thank you for your purchase. Your new balance is… unlimited.”

There was whirring and clicking and then the menu screen flickered and then vanished, revealing a compartment with their items.

The counter on the door ran down to zero. The door made a clicking sound and slid to the side.

“This way,” said Ubik. “Watch carefully.”

PT and Fig, both with goggles and ponchos on, followed him.

They entered a large arena with high walls and a roof that was hidden by bright lights.

The door closed behind them with a solid thunk.

“Lots of room,” said Fig.

“Must be a big robot,” said PT, lifting his goggles to get a better look.

The ground rumbled beneath them and three large blocks of featureless metal rose out of the ground in a V-formation. Once they were fully revealed, turrets rose from the top of each.

“You’re going to deal with all three,” said PT.

“Yep,” said Ubik.

“You’re sure you don’t want us to help,” said Fig.

“Nope,” said Ubik. He stepped out in front.

The three turrets swivelled to target him.

Ubik took a sonic popper out of his pocket and put it in his mouth.

The turret guns began to glow as they prepared to fire. Ubik was around twenty metres from the nearest one. He was unlikely to be able to reach it before it opened fire.

Ubik bit down on the popper. There was a cool minty sensation in his mouth. Then the three robot tanks opened fire.

They exploded. The tops flew off and the sides fell away to reveal very basic internal workings with sparks and smoke indicating there was some sort of problem.

Ubik had already turned around and was walking back towards the exit.

“What did you put in your mouth?” said Fig.

“Gum,” said Ubik. “You want some?”

“No, thank you,” said Fig. “I’m good.”

“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell us what you did,” said PT.

“If I tell you, how will you learn?” said Ubik.

The door slid open. They walked back through the changing room and reemerged in the main hall where Grandma was waiting for them.

It was oddly quiet. Thousands of eyes were staring at them.

“This is awkward,” said Fig.

“So much for keeping a low profile,” said PT.

“It’s nothing,” said Ubik. “They’re just impressed.”

A lone voice shouted, “Cheat,” and then everyone began screaming at them.