2200 Blues © 2024 by G.R. Nanda. All rights reserved.
The following is the most polished version of the first chapter in 2200 Blues, revised after the completion of my full manuscript:
A blanket of orange emerged from the atmosphere. The purple sky, its red clouds, and setting evening sun began to disappear from Nickel’s view. Orange gas flowed over the window through which he was looking, in floating particles and coalescing clumps. Where the sun was, a ball of red could be seen against the screen of gas, still burning into sight. But slowly, the frenzied gas took over, thickening around Nickel’s descending American Eagle hovercraft, and the fiery halo of light dimmed, decreased, and eventually went out.
All was orange. Nickel could still see clumps and particles floating around like snowflakes. The white outline of the spatial calibration map glowed from the navigational monitor situated on the dashboard in front of Nickel. On the right side, two vertical lines illustrated the scaled depths of the atmosphere. In between them a triangular pin prick was lowering, its tip pointing downwards. Once it reached the base it stopped. But Nickel knew that the Eagle was still descending. He could hear the engine rumbling under his feet, and the triangle was still pointing downwards from its tip. Nickel realized that the map had reached its limit. Wherever the ship was going, it was a place outside of the map’s knowledge.
He frantically swiveled around in his chair, surveying the circular control room of the Eagle. The monitor in front of his chair stretched around the walls of the hovercraft. He could see that screens were flickering. The lights embedded in the domed ceiling turned on and off. There were leisure-decks in the middle of the room. Chairs behind them shuddered. The monitors hanging from the wall shook.
The force of the descent pounded against the walls, and roared. All the screens and lights turned off. Nickel turned around, grabbed the nylon seat belt from under his seat and strapped it across his lap. The orange light of the gas outside cast itself into the room in a murky swath.
Nickel waited. He sat solemnly and tense, waiting for the verdict. For his fate. For the longest time in forever, he’d felt in control of his life; the Eagle was his life. As long as he could pilot and maneuver the Eagle; as long as it was functioning, Nickel was on top of the world because he and his hovercraft actually were on top of the world.
Nickel squeezed his eyes shut. A buzz of panic swarmed his head. The insides of his eyelids changed colors, responding to the shifting brightness of the gasses outside. A feeling of utter despair sank into his chest. He felt water collect at his eyes. He couldn’t cry. He was an adult; a 16 year old man; a whole grown man. A drop of tear escaped his eyelids and streamed down his cheek. It was joined by another from the next eye. He opened his eyes, letting the water flow. The dam of artificial security had fallen apart, letting a river of pampered adolescent anguish flow. Born into the Third Ether Realm, Nickel had been plugged into its virtual infographics of the world since the age of twelve. Disconnected from the Ether Realms, Nickel could only imagine what ghoulish technologies and unknowns awaited him outside. A screen to Nickel’s far left suddenly glowed and displayed a blinking warning sign. But in seconds it went black. Nickel pulled his head with his arms and stayed as still as he could. His eyelids were now dark.
The bottom of the ship grated against a surface. The floor rumbled. From below came a long piercing sound that hurt his eardrums. Nickel remained crouched. The grating ceased, but it reverberated in his mind. The Eagle gave a few more sporadic clanks as it settled itself on a seemingly precipitous terrain, moving around and thudding. Nickel opened his eyes and looked up at the world beyond his glass window. Still nothing but orange gas. A groaning came out of the back of the ship. Nickel shut his eyes, pressed his body against his chair and clenched its handles, bracing for the next series of impacts. There was no series of impacts. The groaning died, and all Nickel could hear was the eerie howling of the windy, gaseous atmosphere. He was breathing heavily. He opened his eyes again seeing nothing but a mellow orange outside; an atmosphere moving past the Eagle faster than Nickel was used to. Usually, it was him zooming past the world in his shell of a hovercraft. Not the other way around. The screens and monitors flickered to life, casting the green aura that signified no contact with the Ether Realms. The green shorted out to primary navigational systems. The technical functions were back, but the hovercraft was no longer online. Nickel felt too numb and helpless to take any course of action. He inhaled deeply. Do something. You can’t be still. Use the Eagle! You have a glibbing hovercraft! You stupid glibb! Just use it! With a tap and a flick of his hand, he summoned up a live fuel analysis on the piloting screen in front of him. The ship had so far used up over half of its ionized fuel resisting the forceful descent through this atmosphere. Nickel closed his eyes in frustration. Jesus glibbing CHRIST! Keep MOVING! Nickel opened his eyes and chose a power savings option. The entire ship was now expending 15% less fuel and electricity than usual.
G.R. Nanda 