Autonoma- Gate 13 Read online

  The trees around me were the biggest I had ever seen. I didn’t know they could grow that big. Even the snowdrops towered above me, along with pretty much everything else. I felt tiny, but I did not feel alone. I could have sworn someone was watching me; watching every move I made. I turned around.

  Four eyes glared back at me; the two largest paired in the middle, with another smaller one on each side of the head. Wisps of black hairs protruded from the creature’s head, body and legs, though its face was as orange as the sun. A small tuft of blue extended from the mouth as two arm-like pedipalps, covered in a grey fur, waved before the creature’s face.

  I spun on the balls of my feet and made haste toward the clearing. The quickening crunching of the leaves beneath the spider’s feet told me it was giving chase. I glanced back. The spider was at a trot, as it kept pace with minimal effort.

  I felt the warmth of the sun return as I re-entered the clearing, the tall grasses brushing against my shoulders.

  The call of the bird pierced the air.

  An owl, the size of a house, swooped toward me, its talons outstretched, and its orange eyes fixed on me, as I skidded to a halt, slowing myself by grabbing at the blades of the tall grass. The owl seized my shoulders, wrapping its talons around my arms. My stomach dropped, as the creature wrenched me from the ground, taking me backward into the forest.

  I grasped at the owl’s foot, trying to break the grip and free myself. Pounding on the bird’s feet achieved little more than a tightening of its grip. I looked up to see if I could find a weakness, but all I could see were the pale feathers of the creature’s legs and the brown feathers of its chest. I wondered if this fluffy brown cloud of death would be the last thing I ever saw.

  The patter of feet below me stole all thought, as I saw the spider running alongside. Sprinting across the low hung branches of the trees, it matched the speed of the owl with little effort. It slowed for a moment to take a better look at me and increased in speed.

  The two front legs of the arachnid stretched forward, as a silk line trailed behind. The next pair of legs extended forward, and the spider leapt from the branch. Forming an ‘X’, the arachnid, complete with silk tether, launched for the owl.

  The owl’s flight dipped, as the spider completed its jump.

  I couldn’t see what was happening above me, but I could hear the cries of the bird, jostling in the air and shaking me with each cry. The contents of my stomach stirred.

  The talons released, and I was thrown backward. Free falling toward the floor, or whatever stood below me, I watched as the spider tightened the web around the owl’s face. The bird hunched forward, flapping its wings as it raised its feet to defend itself. The spider turned toward me and braced to jump.

  As the owl cried out in protest, the spider jumped clear. With a second line tethered to the tree, the arachnid glided through the air with ease. Maybe I was to be dinner, maybe I was to be bait for another owl, either way, hitting the ground from this height was enough to convince me to take the chance. I reached out for the spider.

  The eight legs wrapped around me, and I couldn’t struggle, even if I wanted to. The tether became taut, and my stomach was wrenched into my mouth, as I swung feet first back toward the tree. The urge to vomit increased.

  We swayed to a halt, and the spider lowered us toward the floor. I felt my feet touch the ground first, and the eight legs released me. I remained rigid as I settled into the dirt. Laying on my back, I watched the spider back away.

  Squabbling, the owl landed on the branch of the tree, swiping the web from its face using its thick black talons, swooping down and beating a retreat.

  The spider tilted its body and took a step backward. Its pedipalps grew still and I concluded it was waiting for me to make the next move.

  For fear of startling the creature into an attack, I rolled onto my side, making as little noise as possible and paused to assess the reaction. The spider stared back, unmoved as I crouched in front of the monster.

  The spider dipped further on one side and I spotted the saddle on its back. Was I meant to ride this thing? The creature lowered its body to the floor.

  The spider’s pedipalps quivered. With hesitation, I stood and stepped closer. Its body twitched, as though it was eager to get moving. I placed my hand on its thorax and stepped up, sensing its eagerness intensify. I settled down into the seat.

  The spider stood, and I grasped onto the handle at the front of the saddle, as the creature scanned the area, perhaps deciding on our route, breaking into a scuttle across the forest floor. Bushes and branches turned to a blur of green and brown as the spider charged into a sprint, and I clung on with both hands.

  Down a small bank and across a dried riverbed, my steed scurried on, leaping like a spring up the embankment on the far side, under a leafy bush and out onto a dirt path.

  A change in the air sent a chill along my arms to my neck as I noted the gathered rain clouds.

  I clung on with determination, bounced around in my seat, gathering the impression wherever we were going, the spider wanted to be there ten minutes ago.

  The temperature dropped as the smell of a wintery storm filled the air. A Snowdrop drooped, depositing a droplet onto the path and the spider staggered sideward to avoid the splash. Another drop landed in the path ahead, scattering dirt aside, leaving a dark brown crater as it soaked into the soil.

  Almost thrown from the seat as a drop of water landed in front the creature, causing it to skid to a halt, I sucked the cool air in past my lips. The spider hesitated for a moment, darting to the side and resumed the sprint.

  The wooden fence, complete with the back of the large wooden sign, appeared on the horizon, and I could make out Henri hovering near it, the spider leaping across the puddles, as I saw Michael approaching in the distance.

  The beating of the air behind me alerted me to the unwelcome return of the owl. I didn’t know if the spider was aware, it seemed too intent of getting me back.

  A shadow danced along the trunks of the trees, keeping pace with our every move. I lowered my body into the saddle, in part to stay on, but also to narrow the target for the troublesome bird. The spider braced to leap the next puddle.

  Over rotating, the spider landed face first into the dirt and I was thrown from the seat, landing upside down in a patch of Snowdrops to the side. As I sunk into the leafy scrub, the rain settling on my face, thoughts turned to getting back to the others before the owl could spirit me into the sky.

  I righted myself and stood to wipe the dust away, gathering my bearings. I glanced to the spider, assuming it would do the same. The talons of the owl sunk into the thorax of the arachnid, snatching the creature from the shallows of the puddle. Its striped legs thrashed in vain, its large eyes fixed on me, as the owl soared into the grey sky.

  I watched, helpless, as the owl ascended out of view, my hopes for the spider fading fast. I waited, watching the sky turn from the foreboding shade of grey to the pleasant blue of a sunny afternoon. Neither the owl nor the spider returned.

  “Simulation complete. Welcome to the Autonoma Resort,” the computerized voice chirped.

  “Alex?” my little brother called out. “Are you coming?”

  “What?” I replied, distracted, as my eyes remained fixed on the last sighted position of the owl.

  “Alex,” Michael griped.

  “Yeah,” I responded, a little dispirited.

  “Alex,” my little brother moaned.

  “Yeah, I’m coming.”

  I staggered back toward the gate, clutching my stomach, which had yet to settle, and leaned against the fence, gathering my thoughts, stumbling into the ride’s sign.

  “Come on,” Michael griped, “I’m bored just standing here.”

  “Yeah, I,” I paused, taking a deep breath, “I just need to speak to Henri. You carry on.”

  “Fine,” my little brother grumbled, breaking into a sluggish slump back along the path.

  “Henri,” I barked, s
traightening up. “I need a word.”

  “Yes, Guest?” he chirped, hovering closer.

  “What the hell was that?” I demanded, gesturing toward the forest.

  “That was the simulation called The Spider’s--”

  “I know what it was called,” I barked. “What I mean is, how can you do that to people?”

  The painted eyes of the hoverbot glared back.

  “You can’t do that. You can’t get people attached to a creature then go and kill it!”

  Henri remained unmoved.

  “It’s not on,” I protested.

  “Would you like me to adjust Autonoma for you?” the bot asked.

  “What?”

  “I can adjust Autonoma to suit your mental wellbeing at any time,” he explained.

  “If that’s a fancy way of you saying sorry, I’ll do better, then fine. Do it.”

  Chapter 4

  PodSled

  The green arrows led me to the top of some kind of snow sport facility. There was no-one else around, and it didn’t look like anyone had been here for a long time.

  “Welcome to PodSled,” the old hoverbot chimed.

  “What?” I asked, dismayed. “You cannot, I mean, this is not, I mean, what the--”

  “Please follow the arrows, Guest.”

  He was serious. This was the next ride. Either that, or the absent-minded flying idiot had bought us to the wrong place.

  “There’s nothing here, Henri,” I protested.

  “That is incorrect, Guest. This is PodSled.”

  “So you said,” I replied, “but there’s nothing here. Not anymore at least.”

  “Please follow the arrows, Guest.”

  “Come on,” Michael declared, racing past me, “finally, something fun.”

  “Wait? What?” I shouted, giving chase. “Abandoned buildings are not fun. They’re dangerous, and anyway…”

  My little brother ran on, with little regard for my inability to keep up. He charged along the snowy path, darting through the doorway of the abandoned grandstand, and sprinting out of sight.

  “Michael!”

  I could hear his footsteps echoing about the stairwell, though the pulsating green arrow beckoned me another way. His info bubble bobbed along the top few steps and raced across the ceiling. I could hear his giggles reverberating along the walls as I weighed up my options. Perhaps this was my chance to get our chaperone replaced for one of those sleek white orbs, all I had to do was play along and prove he had brought us to the wrong place.

  I glanced back at the stairwell, stepping onto my own pulsating green arrow as the next illuminated. A few turns led me to a narrow concrete room with racks on the wall holding the dusty bobsleds, their runners rusted, and their numbers faded by time. An overturned shell discarded in the middle of the room did little to alleviate my hesitations.

  “This has to be wrong,” I muttered to myself, as the desire to prove a point drove me forward toward a single bobsled waiting with its wheeled runners planted into the track, the green arrow beckoning me closer.

  I placed my hand on the fiberglass top of the tub. There was no way this thing would ever move again, and even if it could, the track ahead was not clear. Bushes, trees, and fallen debris littered the way. Anyone stupid enough to even attempt this would die within seconds. The green arrow pulsated on the bobsled’s seat.

  “Yeah right,” I sneered, scanning my surroundings.

  The flutter of the tattered red flag drew my attention toward Michael standing in the control tower. He waved, and I waved back. He pointed to the bobsled and I shrugged my shoulders. He pointed again, bringing his hand back and forth with increasing speed.

  “I’m not getting in that!” I objected.

  He didn’t quit, instead becoming more forceful with his incessant pointing.

  “Fine,” I muttered, climbing into the wretched thing.

  I rocked my weight back and forth. The bobsled didn’t move an inch. Content I wasn’t going anywhere, I sat down to at least prove what a waste of time this whole thing was. I twisted in the seat, looking toward the control tower.

  “See,” I proclaimed, throwing my arms up.

  Michael prodded at something in front of him, with each motion played out as though he was trying to conduct an orchestra.

  Lights overhead flickered, and the public announcement system fired up, blaring out an anthem so distorted, it sounded like it was recorded onto a stone tablet, let alone a vinyl disc. I turned to face the front and slumped down in my seat.

  “Well, at least it is keeping him occupied,” I mumbled, as a heavy sigh accompanied the roll of my eyes.

  ‘LAUNCH INITIATED’, typed across my visor.

  I snorted, rolling my eyes a second time. “Yeah, sure.”

  ‘PREPARE FOR LAUNCH’, replaced the previous text.

  “Oh, I’m ready, don’t you worry,” I replied, with lashings of sarcasm.

  ‘LAUNCHING’.

  “Of course you are,” I taunted.

  A metal cable sprung from the snow, pulled taut as it linked the front of the bobsled to something out of sight further along the track.

  “Er? OK,” I responded, sarcasm turning to concern, a whirr of a motor increasing in speed charging the air.

  “Erm? Michael?” I inquired, twisting in my seat to see what he was doing, the tension building in the bobsled, trying to resist the pull of the cable.

  “Can you turn that off,” I asked, “please?”

  The shell groaned as the cable twisted and strained, springing droplets of melted snow from its surface.

  “Michael?”

  The bobsled’s nose dropped.

  “Get out. Get out. Get out,” I chanted to myself as I stood from the seat.

  ‘LAUNCH’.

  “No!”

  I was thrown backward into the second seat as the bobsled was wrenched from its icy hold. I tumbled head over heels, landing in the fourth seat.

  Facing the back, I saw the control tower and grandstand being spirited away, as the bobsled was dragged faster and faster along the course.

  A metallic ping from the front resounded about the shell. We sped over a bump, sending me upward in the seat. I came crashing back down. A sparking motor, complete with the end of the cable, sat in our wake, cock-eyed in the middle of the track as we gathered more speed.

  “Wee, this is fun,” I heard Michael proclaim through my earpiece. “On to the next objective.”

  I was too winded to reply with my true feelings on the matter of this particular objective, when I was thrown to the side of the tub, the view from the back filled with the concrete bank of a tight turn.

  “I’ve got to stop this thing,” I gasped, thrown back into the third seat as we levelled out.

  I scrabbled about, looking for anything to help me turn around inside the bobsled. Another tight turn did the trick for me, throwing me to the opposite side of the infernal thing, landing me in the front.

  Under the nose, I found two hoops linked to the mechanical linkages at the front. I pulled with all my might, but I achieved nothing.

  Thrown onto my stomach by another turn, facing the back once more, my eyes settled on a pair of handles to the side of the third seat. I scooted along, with the grace of a beach whale, as my progress was interrupted by another banked turn.

  A glance out the back confirmed we were picking up speed. I rolled onto my back and pulled on the handles with all the strength I could muster, my breath sucked from my lungs by the air passing overhead.

  “It’s working,” I declared with enthusiasm, as I heard something drop from the bobsled, scraping along the concrete surface.

  My joy was short lived, as the metallic ping of rusted metal snapping under pressure resounded about the shell. I looked back as what looked like a large comb bounced along the track. A curse slipped from my lips.

  I attempted to sit up, but the air forced my head down with clout.

  Two tight turns, and I found myself at the fro
nt of the bobsled.

  “Woo-hoo,” Michael shrieked through my earpiece, “another objective done.”

  I heard the wind above me drop as the light was snatched away.

  “Crashing,” I gasped, “we’re crashing. I’m going to die.” I tried to brace for the pain of being flung at speed from an out of control, rusted, infernal piece of crap I shouldn’t have got in to in the first place, remaining in my seat, though the sunlight didn’t return.

  A red, hooped light flashed overhead, speeding past, followed by yellow, and orange hoops. With hesitation of getting my head ripped off, I sat up.

  “What the--?”

  A blue hoop flashed past as more colors approached. It was as if we were speeding through a tunnel, lit with bright, colored bands. Either that, or I did crash, and I was dead, and they’d upgraded the pearly gates to something more modern.

  Ahead, a neon-blue number four hovered in our way with blue stripes spread across the path. I winced, if I didn’t break a rib or something being thrown around inside an oversized bathtub, I was going to break everything else hitting a glass wall at speed.

  I passed through the number, and a buzzer sounded.

  ‘RACE INITIATED’, typed across my visor.

  Blue lights, dials, and a display illuminated on the dash of the bobsled. 163 the number read, climbing higher by the second. The two hoops at my feet pulsated with a blue light and I collected them into each hand.

  Assuming I couldn’t die twice, I pulled on the left hoop. The bobsled leaned to the left and we made a slight turn.

  “It’s not good for business to kill your customers,” I chanted, trying to reassure myself. “None of this is real. Everything is fine.”

  ‘5. 4. 3. 2. 1.’ replaced the text on my visor, as two vehicles pulled up on either side of me.

  Sleek, smooth and powered by colored thrust from propulsion systems at the rear, these pods looked like they were borrowed from a fast and powerful future, powered by technology I’d never imagined, let alone seen. They were a stark contrast to the rusty, decaying, part depositing bobsled I made the mistake of getting in to.

  ‘GO’, typed across my visor.