Into the Eternity Vault Chapter One

Maddy wakes up, handcuffed, crying, confused, and hopelessly alone.

Chapter 1

The cube made quite an impact in the desert. A splash of sand, followed by a cloud of orange grains that took a good few seconds to settle. A thump against the dirt, and then a return to solemn silence. The wasteland consumed all sound.

It sat alone, just over a meter in all three dimensions, with sand clinging to its sides as though stuck with glue. Three of its gleaming white surfaces were simply unspectacular plates of hardened alloy, with only a few blueish solar panels to embellish them. The top was enveloped beneath a big, puffy sheet of bleached plastic, a retracting parachute which would soon tuck away to reveal yet another white face.

But the front was a little more interesting. There was a window, a large transparent sheet of plastic, hinged and ready to swing away when the time was right. A small panel sat above this, housing a faded collection of buttons, switches, and a dark screen of flickering numbers. A digital countdown.

It read:

‘0000:00:00:00:01:10’

And then it read:

‘0000:00:00:00:01:09’

And so on.

Sunbeams shone through the window, illuminating the single passenger trapped inside. She sat alone on the cold floor, her knees pulled up to her chin, her wrists fastened together by a seven-inch metal chain. Her palms were held up to her eyes, completely blocking them from view. A fresh scratch ran down an otherwise healthy cheek, colouring the skin around it to a deep, reddish tint.  Wrapped loosely around her neck was a bright golden tie, which didn’t quite go with her dull silver suit, her shining black office shoes, or the brown handbag she'd draped loosely over one shoulder. A little teardrop was just visible through open fingers, resting atop the tender skin of her face, ready to drip down her neck.

But the tear didn't fall, and didn't seep into her skin. The woman's chest didn't heave up and down with her breath, nor did it thump with her heartbeat. No part of her moved, not for gravity, nor for involuntary muscle contraction. Within her head, all brain signals were frozen. Within her veins, all blood was still.

When the timer reached zero, its digital number layout vanished. Instead, it simply read:

‘SAMPLE DELIVERED’

And then it blinked away.

As the machine powered itself off, the woman’s body finally flickered back to life. She began to breathe, and move, and think. The tear finished its long journey down her cheek, leaving a glistening trail behind. She finished a sob that had started quite some time ago.

"...Out!" She cried, the word barely coherent in her throat.

It took her almost a minute to realize what had happened. She moved her hands from her eyes, and quickly re-covered them as the harsh light stabbed at her retinas. Her arms gradually reached forward to nudge the window, which squeaked on its hinges and swung open to admit her. She’d expected people out there to meet her, but heard no voices. She saw the sand outside, but only a small section of it. It could easily be a beach, or even a child's sandpit. Reaching out with her legs, she planted her feet against the dusty ground where they both sank a few inches into the grainy terrain. The gravity of Earth hit her a little, but it wasn’t too much more than she was used to. With relatively little effort, she was able to quickly adapt. Using her bound hands and her knees, she pulled herself through the opening until her entire body was out.

She blinked for a few seconds as her eyes adjusted to the light, and stared disbelievingly at the landscape. The cube sat within a narrow valley or crater, a slump between three dunes. Around her, the sand was orange and smooth, with the occasional pebble or boulder sticking out. No water. Nothing lived. Even the air felt foreign in her throat.

Her mouth opened and she tried to speak, but only managed another sob. She shook her tears away and tried again.

"I... I’m home?"

She cupped trembling hands in front of her mouth.

"Hello!"

No one answered.

"Hello!" She tried again. Still nothing. She was alone, at least for now.

The woman slumped down against the side of her container. The ground was hot, but the shadow of the cube had cooled it a little. Rough sand clung to her clothes and skin in clumps where she sat. She reached up to her neck and pulled off her tie, stuffing it into her bag. Then she blinked, and looked more closely. The handbag was all but a part of her now, looped around her arms and held there by handcuffs. She held it open and peeked within, cataloguing everything she had.

A full pack of chewing gum. Reading glasses. Assorted makeup containers. Her phonedisk, which was only at sixty percent charge. A plastic bottle of water. A dictaphone. Her cheap ear-buds. Some pens. Along with the clothes on her back and the ID card in her pocket, this was everything she owned in the world.

Maybe the phonedisk could at least find her bearings. Resting it carefully atop her palm, she watched as the screensaver of a space station projected itself into the air, overlaid by friendly-looking icons. Fifty-nine percent charge. No connection to the phone networks or the internet. Useless. A useless machine.

For a moment, she didn't know what to do. She didn't know where she was. She didn't know when she was. She had to find out.

The lonesome woman stood up and brushed the sand from her trousers, turning back to the control panel on the cube. She only knew how to use maybe half the functions, but shrugged and pressed the largest button she could see.

The black screen glowed in response, and flashed a brief logo before defaulting to a layout of mundane looking symbols and readouts. After about a second, a bland female voice began to speak, a pre-recorded message. The cube’s audio sounded a little grainy, but was still easily coherent.

"Thank you. You have successfully recovered sample retrieval pod fifteen-ninety-one.”

The suited woman kneeled down in the sand to listen.

"If this pod has not made it to a designated landing zone, we apologise, and ask you to please contact ASATA personnel as quickly as possible. This pod contains-” there was a quick burst of static, “-Which has been in Earth orbit for..."

The program crackled and paused. The young woman frowned and jumped to her feet. She tapped her knuckles frustratedly against the panel, trying to get the stupid thing to work. After a few seconds it did, now glitchy and warped. A spark shot out from the control panel, along with a little puff of smoke. The digital number screen flashed all fives before blinking out.

"Five-five-five-five... Five... Fifty-five... Five-fi-fi-... Which has been in Earth orbit for five hundred and fifty-five million, five hundred and fifty-five thousand, five hundred and fifty-five years, zero months, zero days, zero-zero-zero-zero-"

The ancient little computer gave up and shut off with a sad beep.

And all Madeline Coresea Skyland could do was blink.