Children of The Spheres

Chapter 5: The Corridor

The Strider shuttle hums beneath us as we climb toward orbit. Kalthor V shrinks below, a frozen wasteland of ice and jagged glaciers. The Stormwall looms, just as daunting from above as on the ground. As we break through the atmosphere, weightlessness begins to settle in. It feels like falling into nothing.

Ahead, the Voyager frigate looms, massive against the black expanse—the flagship model of the Nexus Alliance Transport Company, its long frame stretching for kilometers. The dark hull is smooth, with rows of docking bays lining the lower half.

According to Shiro, frigates like that never touch down on planets—too massive and costly to break orbit for every stop. Instead, they have shuttles that ferry passengers to and from the surface, usually landing at multiple settlements at a time for efficiency.

As we make our final approach, the docking bay yawns open, revealing a vast, well-lit space. Our shuttle glides smoothly into the bay, guided by autopilot, and settles at the end of a row of other craft. The hangar makes me feel tiny, like an ant.

We get up from our seats, joining the flow of travelers disembarking. Ahead, a woman in a crisp uniform gestures for us to follow. She's tall, with her hair neatly pulled back, wearing the sleek, dark blue Nexus Alliance Transport Company uniform. The high collar and silver trim with the NATC crest on her shoulder add a sharp, professional touch."

"Welcome aboard the Nexus Alliance Transport Vessel, Voyager 29-384. We'll be transporting you to the local transport hub station over the next cycle," she explains as we follow her. "The journey will involve a brief period of deep sleep, necessary during acceleration to ultralight speed. Once we reach optimal velocity, the ship will arrive at the station in just under three standard days."

I frown. Deep sleep? Looking over to Shiro, he seems completely aware of the procedure, but this is the first I'm hearing it.

The woman continues as we approach a set of sliding doors. "You'll each be assigned a hibernation pod to ensure a safe transition during acceleration. High-speed travel can place significant stress on the body, and this process mitigates those effects."

Passengers murmur, but most seem unfazed. I lean closer to Shiro. "So, we just sleep while the ship flies itself?"

He smiles, seeming to find it funny that I don't know. "Not exactly. Crew with custom Gateworks augs handle everything while we're out."

Gateworks. Right. The company behind ultralight engines. It's been a while since I learned about all this stuff growing up in the orphanage. It's not exactly information you need in the lithorite mines.

After a long walk, we reach the entrance to the deep sleep chamber. It's a massive, cylindrical room, the far end barely visible. The walls curve smoothly upward, embedding rows of capsules, each one recessed into the wall. Only a few are marked as empty by flashing blue lights on their control panels.

I part ways with Shiro—his pod is farther down—and follow the directions from the crew until I find mine. My reflection stares back at me from the smooth surface, my black hair falling messily over my forehead, my silver eyes glinting faintly from the control panel's lights. I seem taller, leaner, the angles of my face sharper than I remember.

"Alright, Ander. Let's just get this over with," I mutter, though I'm hardly convinced. My heart beats faster. This whole procedure makes me nervous. I wish I shared Shiro's blind faith in this tech. But staying cautious is what keeps me breathing.

I press the release, and the pod's lid slides open with a soft hiss. Climbing inside, I'm immediately enveloped by cool, padded restraints. The space is snug but comfortable. The lid starts to close, and I glance at the chamber's ethereal glow one last time. Feels like I'm being sealed in a coffin.