105: the war has already begun, part two

Tarshall Yandrake was a portly man, and his stained white robes hung off his mass unflatteringly.  he sat in a large, ornately decorated chair, and gazed at Issac, who sat in a smaller chair directly across a low, glass table.  Sorensen sat with them, but Cillian had not accompanied the three to the much more expansive subterranean portion of Yandrake’s abode.  the three sat in a dim room lit ambiently by red strips that followed the top and bottom of the room’s four walls.  a floor lamp next to Yandrake’s chair mixed yellow-orange onto his rough face.  he reached for a small box that sat on the glass table next to the empty dishes that were the remnants of a small meal they had passed in silence.  Yandrake opened the lid and withdrew a brown-papered cigarette.  he brought it to his lips, and it lit automatically on the first drag.

“can i have one of those?” Issac ejaculated without thinking. he immediately felt embarrassed.  Yandrake’s eyebrows went up slightly, but he offered the box to Issac.  he took a cigarette and mumbled his thanks.  the character and affiliation of his hosts was still unknown to him, but so far they had rescued him from abuse and almost certain death, unbound him, fed him, and had now given him the first cigarette he’d had since his departure from Dulvern.

Issac dragged on the cigarette and, like Yandrake’s, it lit itself.  the smoke tasted sweet as it passed through his mouth; it filled his lungs satisfyingly.  he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, slowly exhaling a thin line of smoke into the air.

“how did you find out about him?” Yandrake asked Sorensen, apparently deciding it was time to get down to business.

“we were waiting for Devers’s ship.  they must have made a bad jump; they exited the ribbon in the atmosphere.  the ship went down in the mountains, but we traced one escape pod.”  he gestured to Issac.  “it was his.  we got there too late — they’d already taken him.  but we knew there was only one place they’d be going.  getting into the Ring was easy.  it wasn’t so easy getting into Sefrin’s facility, but we managed.”

“did you go to the ship?”

“no.  Devers’s ship is — was radar non-reflective.  they only track energy signatures in space: they rely on radar in the atmosphere.  because the ship exited the hole in Klin’s atmosphere, they couldn’t have tracked it.”

“they found the escape pod,” Tarshall said, rubbing a tanned hand over his generous belly.

“yes.  the escape pod was certainly detectible by radar, but probably landed a few hundred kilometers from the ship.  we guessed they would have detected the escape pod and gone there looking for answers.”

“what about Gamne?” Issac asked.  “they had her.”

Sorensen’s brow furrowed.  his right hand stroked his bald chin.  “Issac, i think we have to consider the possibility that Sefrin was bluffing.  it could have been anyone under that shroud.”

“no,” Issac insisted.  “i know it was her.  they said there was another escape pod.”

Yandrake looked inquisitively at Sorensen.  “another pod?” the elder man asked.

“none that we detected,” Sorensen said.  “i suppose it’s a remote possibility.”

“we have to go back for her,” Issac said angrily.  the cigarette trembled in his fingers.

Sorensen held up a hand gently.  “Issac, you’ve got to listen to me.  i know that you don’t know who we are, that you don’t trust us, that you have a lot of questions right now.  but whoever it was that Sefrin brought into that room, she’s dead.”

“who was she?” Yandrake asked.

Issac paused a moment before answering.  “she was the ship’s mass expert.”  his voice was quiet, and his eyes starred, unfocused, at the table in the center of the room.  “she was…i only knew her for a day.  she tried to sleep with me.”

“tried?” Issac did not heed the laughter in Yandrake’s question.

“i refused her,” Issac breathed.

“you are engaged to be married,” Sorensen stated gently.

Issac blinked his eyes back into focus and looked questioningly at Sorensen.  at that moment, Cillian entered the room from the spiral staircase that lead to the lower level from the upper.  “that updown’s outta here.  no sign of security outside, either.  i think we’re safe.”

“you’re going to need to get rid of that truck,” Yandrake said.

Cillian smiled and pushed his eye-length, sandy hair away from his face.  “c’mon, big boy,” he teased.  “getting rid of stolen toys is my specialty.”

Yandrake merely humphed in response.

“don’t worry, Tarshall,” Sorensen said in an even tone.  “let us stay here a few hours; anyone looking for us around here will have moved on, we can get some rest, and we’ll be out of here before standard evening tomorrow.”

“fine,” Yandrake said.  “but you realize they’re not going to stop looking for you.  no one can deny that you guys exist now.  you realize that, don’t you?  a few crates of luxury supplies falling off a convoy or little bits of communications equipment disappearing is one thing.  but a prison bust on one of StarEx’s detention facilities proves beyond the shadow of a doubt that the rebellion is out there.  they still might not know who you are, but your friend here is going to stick out like a sore thumb.  you want my advice, get him off Klin as soon as you can.  there’s only so much i can do for you, Sorensen.”

“i understand that,” Sorensen said.  “and i thank you for everything you have done for us so far.”  his calm, blue eyes smiled.

after a short pause, Yandrake said with a glint in his eye, “you kill any of ‘em?”

“maybe one or two of the guards,” Cillian said ruefully, “but ol’ Kantor made it out of there just fine.  didn’t seem too bothered by the gas.”

“our main objective was not to kill StarEx security forces,” Sorensen said.  “it was to rescue Issac.”

“still,” Yandrake said, trailing off.  he looked at Issac.  “you still hungry, kid?”

Issac shook his head in the negative.  “thank you,” he said, “for the food.  and the cigarette.”

“sure thing.”  Yandrake stood.  “let’s all just hope none of them StarEx fellas come knockin’ at my door today.”

Sorensen said, “get some sleep, Issac.  we’ve got more to discuss that should not trouble you.  we’ll answer questions after you’ve rested.”

fifteen minutes later, as Issac laid on the stiff cot Yandrake had offered him, he thought of all the questions he indeed had for Sorensen and Cillian.  first and foremost, who were they?  what was this rebellion they had spoken of?  what were they going to do with him?  was he still in danger?  who exactly was Kantor Sefrin?

his mind spun dizzyingly for a time, but slowly came to rest on one final question that he knew no one could answer: was he going to see Leah again?

in the sitting room, Yandrake’s weight depressed the cushions of his plush chair, once more smoking in long, deliberate drags.  Sorensen maintained his original chair, somewhat smaller in stature and simpler in design as compared to Yandrake’s.  Cillian occupied Issac’s former seat dourly.  he had procured a large glass bottle of dark liquor from Yandrake’s kitchen, and a portion of its contents filled a glass that Cillian brought to his lips steadily.  he puffed on one of Yandrake’s cigarettes darkly.

“we are fortunate,” Sorensen began, breaking a few moments’ silence, “that Issac was indeed at the facility where we believed him to be.”

“i don’t like it,” Cillian responded curtly.  “Tarshall was right.  we’ve never done anything this direct before.  our days of secrecy are finished.”

“Cillian, i might remind you that there has been little doubt of our existence among the corporation, the government, and the Klinian free media for some time now.”

“free media,” Yandrake scoffed his first contribution to the conversation.

“but how are we gonna hide him?  every StarEx security officer is gonna be combing the streets for that little outworlder — and don’t pretend like he’s gonna blend in.  you heard his accent.  space cowboy over there is gonna have stripes on him like miners on a dry vein.”

Cillian was of course referring to the StarEx security forces, among which Kantor Sefrin was known as one of the most sadistic, who were known as “stripes” for the tattoo of a single stripe that each had emblazoned across his left shoulder, a sign of life-long dedication to Klin’s largest and most important corporation.

“again, i will respectfully point out that it was your order that brought us to Issac’s rescue,” Sorensen said.

Cillian glowered at him for a moment as he took a long pull from his glass of liquor.  as always, Sorensen’s cool logic only fueled Cillian’s anger in its irrefutability.  “fine,” he said after a moment.  “we needed to get him out of there.  we didn’t know how much he knew, or if he was going to talk.”

“turns out he doesn’t know anything,” Yandrake said with an air of satisfaction.

“yeah, turns out,” Cillian responded caustically.

“do you take delight in our incorrect assumptions and over-caution, Tarshall?” Sorensen asked calmly, also turning to Yandrake.

Yandrake laughed for the first time since the trio’s arrival.  “easy, boys.”  he held up his hands defensively.  “you know i only want the best for you.  but Cillian’s right.  we’re somewhere we’ve never been before.”

“we had no choice,” Sorensen said.

Cillian took one last, long pull from his glass before stamping out his cigarette.  “i know,” he said, a brief but honest concession.

“one last thing,” Yandrake said.  “is he,” he paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully.  finally, he concluded, “what they say he is?”

Cillian and Sorensen looked at each other for a moment before Cillian responded, “we don’t know.  i ain’t seen nothing to tell me he is.”

“by definition,” Sorensen said, without any hint of disagreement, “he would not be able to prove to us that he was, even if he were willing.  if we are given time, we will have to wait and observe.”

Yandrake sighed and stood up, exhaling his evening’s last bit of smoke.  “you’ve gotten yourselves into quite a situation,” he chuckled.  “i’m gonna go horizontal for a while.  you can eat here before you leave.”

“thank you,” Sorensen said, also standing.  “your hospitality and council has been as valuable as ever, Tarshall.”

“just so long as Sefrin don’t figure out who i am,” Yandrake said wryly as he exited the room.

in the silence that followed, Cillian and Sorensen pondered their situation together, without speaking.  after two or three minutes had passed, Sorensen looked at Cillian, who met his eyes.  “so,” Sorensen asked, “what’s next?”

*

The lights in Issac’s room brightened slowly so that, he supposed, the light of a rising sun could be emulated.  Issac rose stiffly: the uncomfortable cot had done little to rest his aching body, battered first by a crash landing on Klin’s dayside and second by the assault of Kantor Sefrin, a man he knew next to nothing about but who knew too much about Issac. he scratched as his tussled black hair and exhaled noisily.

Issac heard sounds coming from outside his small, bare room.  he slid the door open and stepped into the sitting room.  three heads turned to regard him.

“good morning,” Sorensen said brightly.

“yeah.  just great,” Issac responded, his voice groggy and harsh.  Sorensen and Tarshall were eating what appeared to be salads made from a brown, leafy substance.  Cillian sat on the opposite side of the room, puffing on a cigarette and gazing at the wall.  he was viewing a visiscript, Issac assumed, though he had no idea what its contents might be.

“hungry?” Yandrake asked gruffly, offering a bowl of the leafy plant to Issac.

Issac pursed his lips and held up his hand in refusal.  “thanks,” he said.

“Issac, you need to eat,” Sorensen said with a trace of avuncular concern.  “you’ve been through a lot in the last day.”

“maybe in a minute,” Issac said, easing himself carefully and painfully into a chair.  “what time is it?”

“it’s late,” Sorensen said.  “we should be going soon.”

“where?” Issac asked.

“there’s an entrance to a tunnel about an hour’s ride from here.  once we’re there we’ll be safe.  we’ll take you back to Gorshen.”

“what’s Gorshen?” asked Issac.

“it’s the city where we live,” Sorensen said.  “but come; we should be leaving.”

Cillian brought a hand to the back of his neck and deactivated the visiscript he was viewing and stood.  Yandrake gathered the now-empty dishes and lead the group upstairs.

the view through the windows of Yandrake’s apartment gave no hint that it was morning, or that it was any time of day specifically; it was, simply, day.  “how close to the center of the planet are we?” Issac asked.

Yandrake said, “this is about as close as you can get to the wall without being on dayside.”

“the wall?” Issac asked, unfamiliar with the reference.

“yeah.  the wall.  it all started at the dawn of time,” Yandrake said, a bit of sonorous melody mixing with his usual rough tone, “back when we decided we were going to be rich and they were going to be poor.  at first, we were just paying ‘em to mine the stuff–” he was referring to dry, Issac knew– “but they’d sometimes get in their mind that they could just wander over into the glory of the Ring.  every now and then, one of ‘em would get the idea that he could marry one of our women, take one of our jobs.  well, we couldn’t have that, could we?  no.  so we began the largest single project that this world has ever seen.

“have you ever been to Yrshnma, Issac?” Yandrake asked incongruously.

“no,” Issac said.

“neither have i,” Yandrake said with a small sigh.  “but you have seen holograms of the iron mountain, haven’t you?”

“of course.”  Yandrake was referring to what was considered to be the largest manmade structure in the galaxy: an enormous building that covered a full tenth of Yrshnma’s surface and whose top nearly pierced upper limit of the planet’s atmosphere.  from there, Yrshnma organized its control over five neighboring worlds, each of which owed allegiance to and was subject to Yrshnma alone.

“such an achievement pales in comparison to the construction of the wall.”  Yandrake became even more melodious, and Issac wondered if the man was lapsing into some strange trance, so different was his expression now than it had been since Issac had met Yandrake the day before.  he noticed Sorensen smiling bemusedly, while Cillian was peering out the window distractedly.  “especially when you consider,” he continued, “that the wall was built five thousand years before Yrshnma was even settled.  i’m sure you know, Issac, that Klin is average in size?”

“yes.”

Yandrake continued as if he had not heard him.  “many inhabited worlds are slightly larger, and a few are even as much as a quarter of an order of magnitude larger.  however, Klin is no small planet, either.  and this wall,” he paused for a moment, “both walls, stretch the entire circumference of the planet.”  he made circles in the air with the tips of both index fingers.  “there are two, of course, one to keep out the heat of dayside and the other to ward off the snow and ice of nightside.  or, more accurately, to bar their inhabitants from entering our pristine Ring.”

“if you are so intent on keeping the daysiders and nightsiders out, why give shelter to these two?” Issac asked, gesturing at Sorensen and Cillian.

“well, son,” Yandrake said, a kindly expression replacing his usually dour countenance.  “i suppose that’s because i’m not one of us, you might say.  sure, i’ve lived in the Ring my whole life, but my family’s been part of one of the smallest corporations on Klin for seven generations.  as you can see,” he waved an arm to encompass the entire dwelling, “i don’t live no fancy, high society life style.  i respect the miners.  i’d be willing to trade what little i’ve got here in the center to see, well, Klin become one world again.”

he was finished.  Issac regarded him curiously.

“can we go now?” Cillian asked with more than a hint of irritation.

“of course, Cillian,” Sorensen said gently.  to Yandrake, he said, “you’re sure it is not too great a danger to drive us to the tunnel?  we have caused you a great inconvenience already.”

Yandrake’s surly disposition had returned almost at once.  “eh,” he grunted dismissively.  “i ain’t got nothin’ better to do today, anyway.”

“wait,” Issac interjected.  “Yandrake, do you have a hyperwave transmitter?”

Tarshall laughed.  “son, those things are illegal. highly regulated, extremely restricted, and prohibitively expensive.  if an everyday citizen gets caught with one of those in his establishment, it’s a demotion for sure and probably a trip to one of Sefrin’s prisons.”  Issac’s face fell.  Tarshall paused, then said, “of course i have one.”

Issac’s face lit up.  “can i use it?” he asked eagerly.

Tarshall gestured to an adjoining room.  “no way.  i get caught with that thing–”

“but you wouldn’t have it if you didn’t use it,” Issac protested.

“sure i use it, kid, but i know how, i know when, and i only use when absolutely necessary.”

“please,” Issac begged.  “i just want Leah to know i’m okay.”

Tarshall frowned.  Sorensen said, “Yandrake, please.  Issac has been through so much already.”

Tarshall glared at him, then looked back at Issac.  grudgingly, he said, “fine.  but keep it short, son.  my unit ain’t exactly above board.  it slips in little transmissions between the gaps on the official channels.  the longer the message, the better chance i got of getting’ caught.  then it’s lights out for everyone.”

Issac bowed his head.  “thank you,” he said quietly.  he stepped into the transmitter’s room.

Sorensen smiled at Tarshall, who just rolled his eyes.

a moment later, the four were outside of Yandrake’s house.  the sky was clear, and the sun beat down on the sandy dirt all around them.  Issac’s mind was suddenly flooded with Leah’s visage once more, and he wondered if his message would reach her.  a quick panic rose up within him.  he thought of the wedding, of the planning, and of her, alone on Dulvern and, if the message didn’t go through, with no idea what had happened to him.  his single question from the night before pounded through his head once more: was he ever going to see her again?  he must.  he had to.  he had to get back to Dulvern.  this whole thing was insane, he realized.  what was he doing here?

“stop!” he called out, almost unaware that he was doing so.  the three stopped and turned to look at him.  none spoke.  Issac’s eyes darted across the ground helplessly.  “in the last two days, i’ve left my homeworld, been thrown around a ship full of strangers, i’ve been attacked by drone spacecraft with some kind of light-circle weapon, come out of a wormhole in the atmosphere of a strange world, ejected in an escape pod, i’ve been attacked by red demon creatures, kidnapped by people i’ve never heard of, been tortured, and rescued by people i don’t know.”  he stopped, breathing heavily.  a surprised look crossed Sorensen’s face, Yandrake looked down, and Cillian pulled out a cigarette.  “who the fuck are you people?”

a moment passed as Issac starred at the group relentlessly.  only Sorensen met his eyes.  he let Issac simmer for a moment, then said, “Issac, please.  have we given you any reason to distrust us?”

“no.  but that doesn’t mean i trust you.”

“i understand,” Sorensen said, calmly.  “we need to go.  please, we knew your uncle.  get in the car, and we’ll tell you everything.”

“jesus,” Issac gasped, his rage melting.  he blinked heavily and choked back tears.  he walked to the car.

if the Ring was truly as impressive as Issac has heard, if must have been impressive elsewhere, at least insofar as the roads were concerned.  Yandrake steered the small groundcar down the bumpy roadway expertly, but roughly.  since they had left Yandrake’s establishment, the city had not grown more or less dense, but rather stayed in an arrangement of loose but constant civilization.  they had spent the first ten minutes of the drive in silence as Issac regained his composure.  he was calm now and, sitting in the back seat along with Cillian, finally breathing normally.

Sorensen turned around from the front seat to face Issac.  “i take it that you’ve figured out by now that Cillian and i are miners, officially employed by StarEx.”

“what is StarEx, exactly?” Issac asked.

“i suppose it’s not surprising that you don’t know, being a bit of an atmospheric.  no offense.”

Issac shrugged.  he’d been called much worse, and it was true that he was no veteran of space travel.

“in any case, StarEx is possibly the galaxy’s largest non-government entity.  or at least, its richest.  you are familiar, i assume, with dry?”

“of course.  and i also know that Klin is the richest world in terms of natural dry deposits.”

Sorensen smiled.  “so you have almost the whole story.  essentially, StarEx owns every grain of dry in every rock in every underground cave and in every mineral filament on this planet.  they mine this mineral and sell it at unthinkable prices to the rest of the galaxy.  while they would make great profits anyway, cheap labor increases their margin even further.  that’s where we come in.”

“the broken backs of the miners build the cities of the rich,” Cillian interjected grimly.

“but there are some of us,” Sorensen continued, “who reject this system.  one might call us the rebellion.”

Issac sunk back into his seat.  “how many of you are there?” he asked.

“we’re not even sure,” Sorensen said.  “we are loosely organized, if it can even be called an organization.  we are small pockets of individuals scattered across dayside.  we have to be.  StarEx would eliminate us in an instant if they had any idea who we were.”

“what about the government?” Issac asked.  “why don’t they do something.”

Cillian answered this time.  “the Patriarch’s been nothin’ but a figurehead since i was a little kid.  the corporations are too rich.  their ‘security forces’ make the Patrician Guard look like a band of orphans fighting with sticks and rocks.  the Patriarch says he’s on the side of the miners and fights for their rights, but we ain’t seen no help yet.”

“your uncle was bringing a shipment of weapons for us,” Sorensen said.  “that’s why we need your help.  am i correct in assuming that your palmprint gains you access to the ship?”

“sure,” Issac said, “if there was anything of the ship left.”

“Lathan armored his secret cargo holds extremely heavily,” Sorensen said.

“those things could survive through a supernova,” Cillian said dryly.

“if i help you, will i be able to go home?” Issac asked.

“i don’t know,” Sorensen said.  “it won’t be easy getting you off Klin.  they’ll be looking for you at all the spaceports, and all the spaceports are in the Ring.  but i promise you, we’ll do our best.  unless,” Sorensen paused for a moment.  “Lathan was one of our greatest allies.  you are his blood.  you could help us.”

Issac sighed.  “i sympathize with your cause.  i really do.  and i appreciate everything you’ve done for me.  i’ll help you get in to the ship.  but i’ve got a life on Dulvern.  i’m getting married.  and i don’t have anything that could help you.  my uncle was a trader — i can’t even fly a ship.  i’m not a warrior.  what could i do to aid a rebellion?”

a moment passed in which Cillian and Sorensen looked at each other meaningfully.  Issac’s eyes passed back and forth between the two of them.  “what?” he asked.

“we’re here,” Yandrake announced.  the groundcar slowed to a halt in front of a non-descript building only one story tall.  the grey concrete structure looked almost abandoned, as if occupied by a lonely shut-in who hadn’t had a visitor in years.  the doors opened and the group began to pile out.

“let’s go,” Cillian said.  “we can’t risk being spotted.”

after they exited, Sorensen said through Yandrake’s rolled-down window, “thank you again, Tarshall.  it will not be too long before we see each other again, i am sure.”

Yandrake nodded his response.  “don’t think nothin’ of it,” he grunted.

Sorensen turned and walked towards the building, leading Issac.  just before they reached the building, Issac looked around at his surroundings.  in the distance, he caught a glimpse of what could only be the wall Yandrake had spoken so loftily of.  it didn’t seem large from where he was, but Issac had no idea how far away it was, either.

Cillian stopped a few feet away from the ground car and paused for a moment. to Yandrake he said, “have you seen Ordella since…” his question trailed off.

“not since you left,” Yandrake said.

Cillian pursed his lips and tilted his head in farewell.  he walked wordlessly into the building behind Issac and Sorensen.

the front door of the structure was unlocked, but just beyond it was another door that was protected with a combination lock, similar in appearance to some ancient, non-digital safes Issac had seen in historical films.  Sorensen manipulated the tumbler carefully, and, after a series of alternating spins, tugged on the large handle above the tumbler.  Issac heard the pin slide into the door, and Sorensen swung it open.  it was clear that the door was thick and heavy, and Sorensen strained in opening it.  inside this second door, the building was dim and quiet.  they entered.

“what is this place?” Issac asked in a near-whisper.  they were in a long hallway which was lined with doors on both sides.  the hallway teed at the end and held a small window that was the hall’s only light source.  the dusty interior of the building looked ancient: the floors and walls were wooden, there were archaic light fixtures on the wall — though none of them were functioning — and all the doors opened manually.

“personal storage,” Sorensen said quietly.  “it’s owned by a small corporation called Sancon, which is actually a department of a subsidiary of StarEx.  this outfit is managed by one of our people.”

Issac followed Sorensen to the end of the hall.  he stopped at a door that had the number 714 emblazoned on a small plaque.  from his pocket, he withdrew a small iron key and slipped it into the door just below the handle.  he turned it, and the door clicked open.  again, Issac followed Sorensen inside.

this room was dark, cluttered, and even more dusty.  there were old pieces of furniture stacked on top of each other, bags that appeared to be full of clothing or linens, and piles of boxes that contained…Issac had no idea what could possibly be in them.  Sorensen strode to the back of the room navigating through the bits of debris as if by memory.  trying to keep up, Issac slammed his shin into some unseen obstacle and swore loudly.

“shh!” Cillian whispered harshly.

“sorry!” Issac retorted in an angry whisper.

Sorensen reached the back of the room and crouched to the floor.  a moment later, he was pulling up a hatch from the floor.  a faint light escaped from the hole.

“come on,” Sorensen said, lowering himself into the hole.  Issac peered over the edge and saw that Sorensen was climbing down a ladder that went down perhaps fifteen feet.  with a faint feeling of dread, Issac followed.  Cillian came last, and closed the hatch behind him.

after a few moment’s descent, Issac reached solid ground below and was in a small, dim antechamber.

“ah, good,” he heard Sorensen say.  “the tram’s here.”

a second later Issac saw what Sorensen was referring to.  the antechamber, lit by a single bare bulb, opened to what must have been the tunnel.  at the beginning of the tunnel was a large translucent sphere, roughly eight feet in diameter, that Issac judged to be the tram.

Sorensen approached the tram and inspected it closely.  the sphere sat on a large metallic disk which dug into the ground and hummed faintly.  Sorensen inspected this as well.  “everything seems fine,” he said.  he touched a panel on the tram’s side, and a portion of the sphere slid back.  Sorensen climbed in to the tram and gestured for Issac to follow him.  the tram’s small cabin, which had a bench around its circumference, was separate from the tram’s exterior sphere, and almost seemed to be levitating in the larger sphere’s center.

“how does it work?” Issac said, sitting down with trepidation.

Sorensen smiled as Cillian closed the door behind him.  the tram was nearly pitch black now.  “this might be…a little weird,” Sorensen’s voice said.  Issac heard a click and was instantly pinned to the wall of the cabin by the force of acceleration.  he could tell at the outer sphere was rolling through the tunnel while the cabin somehow stayed relatively stable.  the sensation Issac felt was an odd one, as if he were at once somersaulting rapidly and at the same time remaining perfectly still.  this carried on for perhaps twenty minutes before the tram slowed to a stop.

Cillian opened the door.  the three stepped out into the unending sun of dayside.