Free Socket 3 - The Legend of Socket Greeny by Tony Bertauski Page B

Period. “This
is just for me?”
    “You’ll be travelling alone,” the Commander
said.
    “Seems a bit much. Couldn’t you send
something a little…” Again, I wasn’t sure if smaller was what I was
thinking. Maybe something a little less bad ass?
    “It takes a lot to travel through space,” he
said.
    “That thing will fit through the
wormhole?”
    He smiled, but instead of answering he
adjusted the straps on my backpack. It weighed over seventy pounds,
but my body felt so dense that the backpack felt like a box of
tissues. The ship contained everything I needed. The pack was just
an insurance policy.
    “In case you’re wondering, I don’t personally
see every Paladin off on their first trip.” The Commander smacked
my back like he was sending off a horse. “But your mother
insisted.”
    “I appreciate that, sir.”
    He grabbed both shoulders. “This is a routine
trip, son. No need to be nervous. You’ve been through things plenty
worse than this.” He winked.
    He sensed my nervousness. Is that what it
was, nervousness? I was feeling as rigid as a flagpole and heavy as
a tank. I trusted my gut feelings and this one was saying stay
right here, this was not the trip I wanted to take. But something
also told me this trip was inevitable. It was now or later. But why
did something so routine feel so imminent?
    The ship’s humming intensified again. A
doorway was glowing on the black surface. The Commander patted me
again, one more wink. “Godspeed, son.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    I started the slow march toward the doorway,
the wind whistling in my ears. Each step was heavy, vibrating every
time the bottom of my foot touched the ground like it was a
vibratory plate, compacting my insides. The air was becoming dense,
like the ship was pushing back the closer I got. Each step took
more and more effort.
    I thought about turning around and asking the
Commander what he thought, but it wasn’t the ship pushing against
me. It was me; like rigor mortis setting in. Maybe it was those
vibrations just whacking me out, getting me ready for the
super-squeeze of the wormhole. Like Spindle said, we were going to
the other side of the galaxy, not Charleston. Was this prepping me
for the ride?
    I could feel the cold wave emanating from the
ship’s surface like it was sucking the energy out of the
atmosphere. I had to push my last step through the doorway. First,
it was bright and so cold it squeezed out my last breath. But then
I was through and the ship was gone. Gone, as in gone-gone.
    I was standing in the boulder-field. No ship
around me. Everything, completely silent.
    There was a table in front of me, round and
black like the ship. The surface was smooth. The field silent. The
trees moved, but the wind didn’t gust in my ears. Birds flew over,
their beaks jerking open while their heads searched below. But no
caw. I scratched my face and heard my fingertips rub against my
skin.
    The Commander was still where I left him,
hands clasped behind his back. I started to walk back but an
invisible force pushed back. I must be inside the ship, the walls
projecting the view from the outside so they appeared invisible to
me. The Commander would still be seeing the black ship. Spindle
must’ve missed this detail. Or maybe I wasn’t listening.
    I expanded my mind, felt the smooth surface
of the invisible walls and the circuitry within them. I merged with
the ship’s intelligence, sensing its directive to serve. It felt
cold and alien. And massive. I opened to the ship’s database,
allowed it to connect with me and read my intentions. The
experience of its artificial intelligence stung with a slight
metallic ring. Soon, we were intertwined with a single goal in
mind. The Grimmet Outpost.
    The trees shook violently, whipping leaves
into the sky, the grass jerking back and forth. The ground slowly
dropped away beneath my feet. I lifted magically into the air.
Vertigo swirled in my stomach.
    Higher and faster I went. And closer to