Fly On The Wall: Fairy Tales From A Misanthropic Universe, Vol. I by Alfy Dade Page B

to ever do
so. Like Armstrong, he'll be the first, but like Cernan he will
likely also be the last. He will be remembered through all history,
his name known instantly. Benjamin sighs, that's all true enough,
but it's such a shame that they don't have a view. Of course, no
transparent material can yet withstand such stresses (and he dared
wait no longer), but even so he wonders what hides on the other
side of his protective metal shell.
    The exotic
minerals used to make it had been shipped from Saturn, the only
planet where such strange crystals few. He had waited for most of a
decade for the bots to build themselves, mine, and then ship back
that precious cargo. 7 of those years were taken up by the billion
and a half mine journey alone. But now it was happening, and with
the help of the most alien of coursed he dove into his own terra
incognita.
    A horde of gauges
clutter the metal dash in front of him. The face of each one
resembles a serene sundown sky; blue backing blends into yellow
rays, then alarming carmine dyed horizons. On each gauge a needle
points westward, no mater how they scream of pressure Benjamin
ignores them, and presses on. At such depths, there is, on each
pin-head's worth of space, the weight of a thousand thousand
mountains, but the exotic material stays strong and do not give,
though it does squeak strangely. The outside shines bright orange
from the friction of descent, as well as the extreme pressure and
heat. Benjamin can little tell the machine where to go, only
monitor its progress, they are locked out of its systems for their
own safety. The precision required to descend to such depths is
beyond what any human can ever achieve. Perils, in the form of
pockets of super-hot gas, or even hard leviathan diamonds, could
cause not only failure of their mission but failure in their very
act of living too. Thus to use a machine instead of a man had been
no choice at all, but a strict edict instead; human error is far
too great a risk.
    Sod the sensors
they have no power over me. Benjamin eyes
the twitching needles, they barely keep him from trying to make his
way out of their metal shell. There is little to do now but wait.
Benjamin can't see out, but that doesn't stop him from being glued
to the gauges, trying to decipher his surroundings. Daydreams
however, manage to pull his attention away. He can see the
headlines now “MAN IN EARTH: Benjamin Richardson, first person to
the centre of the earth!” and his picture – of course, and one of
their great capsule too. He'll never be a settler of distant
planets or moons but he'll be the first to the centre. He'll be the
first to the very innards of humanity's first, and still most
favored home. He'll set a precedent, one that others will always
attempt, but never achieve again.
    The capsule keeps
its inner temperature fairly constant despite its glowing outer
shell. Its occupants, while sweating are by no means uncomfortable.
Down it ventures, further and further into the earth. The AI sends
out a warning been, it seems to have found some anomalies in the
rocks ahead; it shows them on a screen, two dark colored spots that
it claims are voids. Hugo supposes they are gas pockets, but the AI
seems to think otherwise. Worryingly, their capsule turns towards
the voids at an alarming rate, one which stresses their laser
drill's mounts generating more warning beeps. It seems to be
attracted by some unknown forces. Hugo knows the machine is
programmed to seek, stop, and open, should it detect any habitable
locations, but that was a pipe dream, more a joke than anything
else. Maybe we shouldn't have coded that
in. Hugo's thoughts perturb him as the
shuttle gets hotter, approaching the pockets. Hugo and Benjamin
share a look that makes it clear that they are more and more
convinced that their lives were forfeit, and about to end, then and
there, at the hands of dumb AI which had been fooled by some warm
air.
    Perhaps more
pressing than the heat though, the