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THE SUNSET
* 3 *
Staring up at the same rusty patches and bolt patterns in the ceiling of his quarters, Captain Helios laid silently in the bunk above his workstation,
his orange cap on his muscular chest. The vibrations of the hover-pod engines generating a soothing hum, he began counting the bolts, starting
in the upper-left corner, as he's always done. Yet since he assumed command of the 'Nosferatu' almost five years ago -- 'Funny,' he thought --
he has never counted them all...
Then he remembered her eyes...
"What am I missing?" he hissed to the rusty patches. "I accounted for the sunlight, the indirect skylight, the indirect waterlight... all of the color
and reflection variables... Dammit, why are her eyes fading?"
He remembered her fading eyes, and then her lovely warm-brown face, her wide soft-lipped smile... It was the simulated smile of a soldier on
another old hovercraft on the other side of the known underground tunnel network... It was the simulation -- 'Just a damn simulation' --
of his wife, Commander Aurora.
He started over again, going back to the upper-left corner of the ceiling, counting the bolts... 1, 2, 3...
Again, he remembered her eyes...
Helios could never forget the mixture of fear and pride in Aurora's blazing eyes when their son, Hitchhiker, first expressed his hunger to join a
hovercraft crew in their war against the Machines. He was young and bold and brash -- 'He still is' -- but he was just like his father at the
same age. How could he fault his son for that?
When Hitchhiker was old enough, his undeniable skill as a trained hovercraft operator and pilot, earned him multiple requests for his abilities.
But, in the end, when the opening presented itself -- 'And at the insistence of his mother' -- Hitchhiker chose the 'Nosferatu,' his father's ship.
Why choose another ship, when he could choose a ship with family onboard?
Now Hitchhiker has been Junior Operator for nearly two years... how time flies...
And Hitchhiker has her eyes... those same blazing eyes...
Helios sighed. And started over again... 1, 2, 3...
"Arrggghhh!" Hitchhiker yawned, as he rose from his cot and stretched to his full height of six-feet-plus.
Born on Zion, the last human city amidst the raging Man-Machine War, he was the only one in the five-member crew without bio-mechanical
plug-in sockets or 'holes' embedded in his body.
He pulled a ragged grease-spotted gray shirt over his bare chest to match his darker grease-spotted gray pants. He shoved his feet into his
oversized black boots. And he swung open and shut the door to his quarters before ambling towards the so-called 'mess hall' to pour some
gooey breakfast.
"Hey, g'morning, Hitch!" Senior Operator Unicorn brightened as the junior operator entered. "It's about time!"
"Yeah, I know," Hitchhiker replied, opening the spout that drained liquid nutrients into his metal can. "I miss anything?" he asked before lowering
himself onto the stool opposite Unicorn.
"You know," Unicorn began, with a mysterious sideways squint that tried to over-analyze his crewmate's not-very-mysterious hunger. "I just
unplugged your dad from the Construct about ten minutes ago."
"So?" the captain's son said between slurps.
"He must be designing some lean, mean, training machine."
"What makes you say that?" Hitchhiker took a sip of water from his metal cup.
"Not much," Unicorn admitted, taking a bite of his own meal. "He orders me to cloak his program before I can even get a glimpse, but--"
"But what?"
"But there are little things... like how he named the file 'Snapshot'. Maybe he plans to take a snapshot of our fighting abilities." Unicorn froze
himself in mid-karate-chop.
"Hmmm, I don't know about that."
"And when he calls my name... you know, to decloak the audio... just before I unplug him... he sounds like he's angry or annoyed at something...
like he can't beat the fighting program."
Hitchhiker laughed. "Now I know you're imagining things! Maybe you're worried YOU won't beat the program!"
"Won't beat WHAT program?" joined Commander Million, her short red locks of hair bouncing as she strode crisply into the mess hall. Threads
followed behind her with an empty can in hand.
With a broad toothy grin, Hitchhiker replied, "Unicorn is telling me his new theory... that my dad is designing a new training program."
"Really?" Million said, as she and Threads smiled at each other. "Threads was just telling me HIS new theory that some corners of the Matrix may
be running virtualities as old as ancient Egypt."
"Damn!" cried Hitchhiker. "Were ALL of you THEORISTS before you guys were unplugged?"
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