Tethered

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I wish the vacuum was the worst thing we had to contend with. No one advertised the void anymore, our fear of it left unsaid. Instead, all they broadcast about was the gravity, and why having less made you worthless. Subhuman.

On the outer edges of the Web, somewhere between the lost library and the western green bank, there was a leak in the outer hull. And I was up to the task, or so Leo said.

‘Repair the hull and grab some extra grav tokens.’ He’d chuckled as he thrust the helmet into my arms. ‘Twenty minutes and you’re done.’

He was a lousy liar.

So here I was, no air, no gravity, floating on the edge of space, watching the sun rise.

Off the curvature of the planet, bright rays cast across the seas and land. The tiny black line of the First Tether was barely visible, our lifeline to Earth and the building block of on which Aureatis was constructed. City of the rich, the hungry, the powerful. An inverted pyramid from which we all clung to, all the way out here on the edges.

I’d found the leak pretty quickly, but twenty minutes was an understatement. Tiny particles of trash hand blown through overnight, smashing their way through the green bank’s storage capsules. Essentials were floating about, seeds and soil and droplets of water. Helen was going to fry her nut.

The damage was too big to just rely on gel, our normal universal fixit. But I saw a few segments of hull close enough to push out to.

Checking lifeline one last time, I pushed off, alone in the emptiness.

Humans are the smartest dumb creatures to crawl from the swamp of history. We didn’t want to save our home. We ignored all the signs. People were too selfish, too absorbed in the next payment, the next fad. No one knows what finally ran us off. But we couldn’t stray too far.

See, it’s the gravity that kept us hanging on. Space had called, that’s how the Tethers were created. “Space elevators” to get ships into orbit. And we were out here, but the grav sickness trashed our bones, made us sick and frail.

So the rich live closer to the planet, where their money keeps them safe. And the poor live further and further out, till you reach the Web. Chained together ships and stations and misfits and outcasts. The old tech keeps us alive, as long as we can hold it together.

Thirty meters out, I’d reached the panels. Ragged and messy edged but free of holes. There wasn’t a good place to hold them, so I grabbed a few clamps off my belt and tied on some rope. It doesn’t take a lot of force to move in orbit, a quick tug on my lifeline and we were sliding back to safety.

Leo said I was mad to like the void. That people shouldn’t have no fear of space. ‘We can’t live out there,’ He’d rant. ‘Peoples need air.’

I snorted at the thought. We need more than oxygen to live. No just survive but live.

Ten to a room, born to grow in zero grav. Clambering to get a work visa, just for a few hours in the gilded city. The lower tiers still housed schools, mostly cause maids still need to know how to walk.

That was the lie. Earn enough grav tokens to move to the city. Work enough to make it out of the Web. Hustle and sweat and die trying.

Reaching the hull I checked over the metal. Despite all the roughness, the sides were free of their normal plastic coating. I was eyeballing here but they seemed to match the hull metal perfectly. This should work.

I set the panels to the exterior, making sure to cover the holes completely. Space did have this neat trick called cold welding. Put two types of the same metal together and they’d stick without heat. Which was great since nothing would burn out here.

Pulling the gel gun from my holster I tacked each of them down, following the edges to make sure I’d get full adhesion. Everything looked alright, but alright wasn’t enough. I hit my comms.

‘Hey Helen?’

‘Mere? Is that your dulcet tones? Let me guess, Leo finally got my messages.’

I smiled. ‘Hi Helen. I think I’ve found a fix, but can you run a check on the micro readings of your area? Don’t wanna half arse it.’

‘Check.’

The line went silent for a few minutes. Light began to colour in the Earth, a kid shading with crayons.

‘Yep. All set.’

I sighed. ‘Go physics.’

‘Leo owes you double.’ She replied. ‘You know he’s a lout, right?’

‘He can hear you, you know.’ I could imagine Leo tripping over his prized hoard of junk, trying to each the comm.

‘Oh I know. Yeah Leo, you listen up. If you don’t pay her double…’

Leo’s voice boomed over the speaker in my suit. ‘I am not a…’

She cut him off. ‘If you don’t pay her double, I will cut your food rations in half.’

‘… ababahow dare you, you witch…’

Helen used her best teacher voice. ‘LEO. HALF.’

I could hear Leo’s thoughts ticking away.

‘Fine,’ he grumbled. ‘But get in here Mere, you’ve got to deliver that replacement to old man Osford.’

‘Yessir Mr boss man.’ My voice was thick with sarcasm.

‘Damn girl…’

And I was alone. And it was quiet. The earth glowed, calling to me.

Beeping told me my O2 was almost empty. Begrudgingly I floated towards the nearest hatch. One last look solidified the plan in my mind. Screw Aureatis and those Weighted bastards. Every last one of them. Even if it killed me, I was going to walk on the Earth.