Another little (draft) treat for Wethraks WSunday. Also known as 'Grammatical Correctness? What's That?'
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CHAPTER I / The Dream
Mining asteroids for resources is tedious work. A task fit only for Dregs, or as punishment for Vandals daring to step out of line. Except little supervision and an opportunity to get away from one's peers lends itself to repeat offenders, and they don't care for the work itself as much as they do the freedom.
Wesraaks, however, does.
It is his job to venture out each cycle and provide for his House. Metal ore converts readily to Ether, hydrogen into fuel for ship engines, and anything left over offers the means to repair faults and failures across the convoy his people travel in. Without drillers like himself, the House would crumble.
As easy as it is to pretend he holds a noble role, and that his task has a great impact upon the House, it is an idea borne from hours of relative isolation and little else to think about. His Captain would replace him in a heartbeat if she wanted to. In reality, the glimmer drill does all the work for him. All he must do is locate the richest reservoir of whichever material he is assigned to collect, guide the drill into position, turn it on, and watch both it and the Servitor storing whatever he finds to ensure the collection goes smoothly.
From another rock floating close by, Venxori scans for their next deposit to excavate. He paces up and down, his ancient and barely functional metal detector causing visible irritation. Jabbing the end hard into the rock, it seems to return to normal, and he continues on his search.
Wesraaks gazes past him, to where a handful of dots marking the frontrunners of House Devils wait. The largest Ketch - Sepiks-Fel, his home - hovers ahead of the rest of the vessels, true size obscured by inky blackness and a slight shaft of light across its form. Even then, it appears miniscule when he squints. The lesser Ketches gathered around it are like grains of sand.
While they conserve fuel and energy for the next leap forwards, and wait for the rest of the House to catch up, they won't move for the rest of the cycle. Progress on the Long Drift consists of multiple stops and starts.
His parents and the Elders tell him that they have been travelling for untold time, so long that it would be hard to quantify against the speed of light. Some attempt to calculate, and they say it has been tens of thousands of cycles since the first Ketches left their home.
They said they used to live on a tropical planet named Riis, where twin suns marked out days and nights. Apparently, Eliksni ruled over a peaceful empire spanning dozens of local star systems. They lived in harmony with the flora, fauna, and intelligent life found on foreign planets and moons, opening trade routes and the means to share the knowledge the Great Machine bestowed. To be met by Eliksni was to be given a key to a revolution, if it was desired.
Then the Great Machine fled. When a handful of Devils decided to chase it, and agreed there would only be peace and safety beneath its shadow, they did not expect the rest of the Houses to follow. But they did, slowly.
And because of their choices, they live ten to a nest, cramped inside the suffocating confines of Ketches that are not, and never were meant for such arduous journeys. His people breathe down each other's necks, and know nothing but aggressions. Community mindedness only extends so far, and even he sees that the Drift pushes at the boundaries of how little privacy can be accepted.
A benefit of his work is that he lives every Devil's dream. If one doesn't mind the dizzying emptiness in the vacuum of the asteroid fields, he has plenty of space and privacy. Mining doesn't necessitate a large crew, either. His Captain oversees the operations remotely. He brings only himself, Venxori, the drill, and their Servitor to work. Although he and his partner are both docked and lowly Dregs, he is permitted to borrow a Skiff and anchor it to whichever chunk of rock they choose to land on.
Until such time as they find their god, mining is destined to continue.
"Do you think we'll ever find the Great Machine?" Venxori asks, his voice crackling through the headset in his helmet.
"Of course we will. Eramis knows exactly where the it is, she's tracking it," he replies.
"But it's moving further away from us. Again," he readies himself to give a longer answer, then stops and sighs. "All this time, and it hasn't stopped yet. Where do you think it's going?"
Wesraaks chitters. "I don't know. Maybe the Light is stronger somewhere else, and it needs to recharge?"
Venxori scoffs at the idea. "I heard Ursavikskel saying that it's being lured somewhere."
"How does he know?"
"He's Kell. What doesn't he know?"
Unsatisfied by the answer, Wesraaks clicks his mandibles. "He's not the Star-Catcher. The Great Machine doesn't tell anyone anything, now."
"I wish it would. Or I wish we could just turn around and find a place to stop and settle somewhere," Venxori gestures out to the stars, waving the metal detector. "We have everything we need! We could take our Skiff and go! Why do we need to stay with a House, anyway? Who says I want to do the same thing every cycle for the rest of my life? What if I never get to see the Great Machine, and this is just the Elders trying to outlast us?"
"Don't! Varzis might be listening!" he hisses, urgent. "She could pass that on to Ursavikskel, you know what'll happen if he finds out you're thinking that!"
Grumbling, he returns to sliding the detector across the surface and huffs, "Whatever's going on, whoever's dragging it away from us, one day I'll make them pay for making our lives so miserable. And I hope Ursavikskel knows what we're doing."
Wesraaks makes an uncomfortable noise, and returns to studying the drill and its readings with as much intensity as he can muster.
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