Michael had never seen the pit so quiet. The guttural whirring of the excavator drills had finally ceased, their teeth no longer gnawing at the planet’s rocky skin. A small break in the endless grinding that wracked through the planet cycle after cycle. The planet breathed a sigh of relief – a slow tectonic exhale – leaving only the low hum of cooling machinery to fill the tunnels. The walls around him flexed and creaked from the aftershocks. Heat radiated from the wound in the planet below.

Michael’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Only the maintenance crews were permitted inside the mine’s central facility during the shift change, their only chance to check each piece of equipment for wear and tear. At just seventeen years old, union regulations kept his shifts limited to the daylight hours on Tartarus-9, and he should have clocked out over an hour ago.

He followed Todd and Brett as they snaked through steel-clad corridors. The older boys moved fast, boots scuffing against grated floors. They were almost home free. 

The pair were a cracked mirror of each other. Todd, broad-shouldered and not much taller than Michael, typically held a steady calm across his face. Brett, lanky and wiry, failed to hold the same poise and twitched with adrenaline. Two years older – old enough to work the longer shifts – the pair carried their exhaustion like a weight. Despite all their planning, they both looked uneasy.

Michael palmed the gloves tied to the back of his jumpsuit, clinging from his waistband, for what must have been the fifteenth time too many by the look Brett gave him. The things they’d stolen were still in there, scrunched deep in the hot leather, but it didn’t hurt to check.

“Stop dawdling,” Brett said over his shoulder, his gait had softened to a walk as the trio neared the exit of the facility’s central reserve. His beady eyes darted from side to side.

“Once we’re through that door we should be able to join back up with everybody else on their way out and nobody should be any the wiser.”

“Leave him alone,” Todd said with a dismissive brush of his hand, “I remember the first time I was here during shift change – I thought the whole planet had died out.”

Todd put an arm out to stop each of them and leaned to catch a glimpse down at an adjoining corridor before pulling back. He jabbed an elbow into Michael’s side. “Looks different, doesn’t it?”

“Whatever,” Brett huffed and looked for himself, “I still think you should have given him one of your jumpsuits.”

Michael looked down at the uniform he was wearing. A powder blue jumpsuit. A deduction was taken out of his paycheck each month to cover the cost of a dwindling rotation of near-new uniforms and equipment that belied the fact that they were all relics from the central colonies. Overstock. Totally unsuitable for the heat on Tartarus-9.

Michael’s sweat made the cheap cotton stick to him.

“If anyone notices he’s wearing that, we’re all screwed.” Brett snapped.

“This was the only clean one I had left,” Todd tugged at the collar of his own sweat soaked uniform. Dark blue jumpsuits were only given to, and often worn proudly by, workers aged eighteen and over.

A lump rose in Michael’s throat. There would be trouble if anyone noticed them at all. Each carefully placed step pounded louder than it should in the gallery of old machinery.

The exit door ahead split open with a whoosh of air. A maintenance officer stepped through, clad in yellow coveralls, the computer in his hand trilling an electronic beat.

“Get back,” Todd grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled Michael behind a stack of machinery. If they were spotted now, it was all over. Michael knew that. He wasn’t as young and naive as his brother and Brett seemed to think he was.

Michael pressed his face as close to the edge of the machinery as he could. The maintenance officer sauntered down the adjoining hallway away from them, his yellow safety helmet held in the hand that wiped away the moisture that had built up behind the plastic shield.

“If maintenance is already making their rounds then we best hurry,” Todd was the first to find his feet again, followed quickly by Brett. “I thought we had more time.”

The lump tugged in Michael’s throat. He should have been out over an hour ago. Todd approached the door that the maintenance officer had just come through, the outer facility on the other side, and pulled a small white card from his breast pocket. A light above the lock flashed red as he swiped the card through it.

ACCESS DENIED

He swiped the card again and the light flashed red once more. The buzz seemed louder this time.

ACCESS DENIED.

A knot formed in Michael’s stomach as his brother struggled against the lock. The loaded gloves attached to his waistband pulled down on him, their smuggled contents heavy with the consequences of being caught. How could he have been stupid enough to ask to come along? 

Brett took a turn at the lock, blowing on the card first before falling into the same cycle. Swipe. Red. Buzz. 

ACCESS DENIED.

“I don’t get it,” Todd’s voice wavered as Brett slapped the machine, “I cloned Johnson’s access card when he stepped out for lunch. He was today’s shift lead – it shouldn’t fail unless he’s clocked out but there’s no way we’re that behind.”

Michael glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting Johnson or a guard to materialize from the shadows with a clipboard and a firing squad. While they might get away without being searched, cloning an access card wasn’t just a small infraction – it was felony-level stupid. Blacklisting, debt penalties, corporate infringement charges. It made his chest tight.

ACCESS DENI– ACCESS GRANTED.

“Bloody things never work properly,” Brett spat, the light above the lock flashed green and the door shunted open. The access door groaned shut behind them and Michael let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. 

In comparison to the eerie silence of the mine’s central facility, the outer throes were electric. A cavernous junction where groups of workers clashed in waves, ordered by the colour of their jumpsuits. Hundreds of bodies pushed through the chamber, shoulder to shoulder, fighting towards their destination. The taste of salt clung to the air.

Todd pressed against the boundaries of his practiced confidence and slipped his way through the crowd with grace despite his stockier frame. He was just another worker making his way to the exit after a long difficult shift. Brett forced his way through, restless and eager to be out, paying no mind to who he collided into. Michael trailed close, doing his best to disappear into the mass of bodies around him. Each step made his heart pound.

He shuddered with every accidental eye contact and felt at the gloves on his waistband once more, cupping them to prevent people brushing against them and possibly noticing what was inside. Todd and Brett would never forgive him if it all fell apart now. 

A violent eruption rattled from deep inside the planet and shook the building around them. The drills were starting back up again.

“We need to be quick,” Todd tried his best to keep a steady face, but Michael recognised the cracks forming in his brother’s expression.

The number of workers fighting for space thinned as the boys closed in on the exit. Neither Todd or Brett had said a word for several minutes by the time the security checkpoint came into view. A wall of guards clad in black fatigues watched incoming workers as they scanned their IDs and passed through the checkpoint barriers, service rifles hung from each of their chests.

Michael’s arms tensed as he fought the urge to touch the gloves hanging from his waist again. Could he drop them without being noticed if Brett or Todd were searched? 

A guard slumped against the wall met his eye. 

Did he know already?

“Hold it,” the guard said, pushing off the wall with his boot and approaching the trio, “what are you three still doing here?” His eyes passed over each of them but seemed to hold on Michael and his powder blue jumpsuit for a fraction longer than the others.

The knot in Michael’s stomach pulled tighter. He should tell him everything, try and save himself and his brother from trouble and pin it all on Brett if he has to. A handful of other guards had noticed the interaction and formed around them.

“Sorry, sir,” Todd stepped forward, eye level with the guard despite the gap in age. “I left my jacket in my locker after work and my ID card was in my pocket,” he motioned to the jacket tied around his waist. Michael creased at the thought of what was smuggled inside those sleeves. 

“Brett and Mick offered to come with me so I didn’t have to walk by myself.”

It always brought a rush to see Todd in action. The ease and skill with which he lied had come naturally to him all his life and Michael had spent his childhood avoiding any serious trouble all thanks to his brother.

Even still, his body stiffened whenever Todd was in motion. Not because he doubted his ability, but because he imagined himself in the same position, desperately fumbling over his words. Confidence was not something Michael found within himself.

“Right…” the guard mulled over Todd’s words. His black fatigues had faded with time just like the colour in his now grey hair. A red emblem sewn at his chest denoted his position.

He stepped back and waved the boys through, his eyes locked on as one by one they stepped up to scan their ID cards and pass through the checkpoint.

Michael’s palms were slick with sweat as he turned his ID card over in them. 

Once they were through here they were in the clear. No more guards, no more checks, nothing else between them and getting out. Michael could almost breathe again. A nervous laughter bubbled inside of him. He stifled it and stepped towards the barrier, his ID card ready to be scanned.

An alarm blared above him and the barriers Todd and Brett had stepped through clanged shut behind them, cutting Michael off from the outside. 

His whole world shrunk to the short span between the checkpoint barrier and the group of guards behind him. They must have known what was in the gloves. His knees trembled beneath him and threatened to give out. If they did, he might never get back up.

“Violation X-436 detected,” the guard from before said as he approached Michael. The look on his face said he’d been waiting for this from the moment they’d first met eyes. Of course he’d noticed the powder blue jumpsuit – everybody had.

“It says here your shift was due to end over an hour ago. Union regulations dictate that all workers below the age of eighteen can only work during daylight hours,” he read the full regulation from a datapad.

Everyone knew the rule was a joke – a boiler plate regulation created decades ago by a union stuck in the central colonies that had never even stepped foot on Tartarus-9. The company only enforced it when they needed an excuse to dock pay or assign blame. They didn’t care about protecting kids, only about keeping machinery running.

Michael swallowed hard. He had prepared for this. With Todd’s help he’d memorised exactly what he was supposed to say if he was flagged. Todd had made him promise to learn it by heart before he agreed to let him join them. His one condition.

“I-,” the words turned to ash in his mouth and the part of his brain that had held onto them lost its grip. He stared blankly at the guard. Behind him, Todd called out and was silenced by the raised rifles of guards on that side.

“First offence carries with it a 1000 credit fine which will be deducted from your next paycheck,” the guard emphasised his point with a heavy finger against Michael’s chest. 

“Second offence results in immediate termination. Don’t be late again.”

The barrier clanged open and Michael was ushered to the other side. His heart pounded in his ears. 

“What the hell are you playing at, mate?” Brett rushed Michael, his fists clenched at his side. Todd pulled Brett back and tried to calm him, before turning back to face his younger brother. Michael couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Let’s just get out of here before they find another reason to take more of our credits,” he said, and made his way towards the entrance. Michael kept his eyes on the floor as he followed. While the penalty stung, a bittersweet relief washed over him. They hadn’t found what was smuggled inside his gloves, and their plan remained intact.

####

Michael turned the gloves over in his hand and emptied their contents onto the bed. Crimson blocks tumbled free and clattered against the faded white sheets. Dust streaked the fabric where they rolled, leaving behind a faint, oily residue that caught the light just enough to make his stomach turn.

Tartarusite.

The sole reason civilisation struggled this far out. The reason they had put their futures, and lives, at risk. Their path to freedom.

Todd scooped the shards up and added them to the growing pile of smuggled Tartarusite spread across a small metal table in the center of the room. Todd’s had been buried deep in the sleeves of the jacket he’d worn at his waist, and Brett poured his own out from the inside of his boots. Individually, it was nothing, barely a blip on the company’s radar, but to Michael it looked like a fortune.

Todd and Brett shared a small room in one of the Tartarus Cor assigned accommodation buildings fifteen kilometres from the mine proper. Four walls of cheap corrugated steel panelling and a single vent in the wall that choked with the dust and sand that hung in the air. A single bulb fizzed and flickered overhead. Like with their uniforms, the company carved the rent out of their ever dwindling paychecks before the credits even hit their accounts.

Michael had taken to staying with them whenever his and Todd’s parents were away for work, something that happened so often they’d requisitioned him a bed.

“We’re gonna be so famous,” Brett said with a grin that barely fit his face. “I’ll never have to go back to that dump again.”

“None of us will,” Todd nodded along with him, caught in the fervour.

“No more endless shifts, no more heatstroke, no more blood and sweat with nothing to show for it,” Brett continued.

“If we do this right, there’ll be sponsorships, offworld contracts… everything we could ever need. If you blow up big enough, someone will pull you out.” Todd placed his arms around Michael and Brett and pulled them in.

“The hard part is over,” Todd pulled him in tighter, “now we get to do the fun part.”

It was a little under a week ago when Todd had first shown him and Brett the videos that were taking over The Feed. 

Each video started off the same: a shaky handheld shot in a room that looked just like this one, poorly focused on someone young and desperate looking holding a tiny block of Tartarusite up to the camera before taking a bite out of it and waiting for the reaction that bubbled inside them to reach its zenith. The challenge was in how long you could last. From the videos Michael had seen, nobody had been able to make it very far. Most were barely able to get through their first bite.

The challenge had started on one of the other mining planets in the same sector as Tartarus-9 and had spread like wildfire through the systems. It was only a matter of time before freighters full of Tartarusite were finally approved for transport to the central colonies and so Michael, Todd, and Brett, had to get in quick if they wanted any chance of going viral: virality was one of the only currencies that still meant something for people like them.

“I’m just saying–we don’t even really know what this stuff is or what it’s for. Right?” Michael looked to Todd for reassurance, anything to push down the sense of anxiety that was boiling over inside of him. 

Brett rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re bottling it already, Mick. Todd said you were in.”

“I-I am…” again Michael struggled to find the words.

Todd shrugged. “If it’s good enough for Tartarus Corp then it’s good enough for me. Besides, vegetables come from the ground and they’re safe enough.”

Michael didn’t laugh, neither did the knot that still pulled in his stomach.

“You know no one’s coming for us don’t you, mate?” Brett was in his face again,  “No recruiters, no scholarships, no last-minute transfer to a fancy colony. We’re stuck unless we make noise loud enough for someone to hear. Right?”

“Come on,” Todd dropped his voice, the smile he’d managed to hold onto fading from his face. “Do you wanna end up stuck here for the rest of your life like Mum and Dad?”

Michael thought of his parents then, lifers on Tartarus, they’d been on one of the first crew ships sent over when the colony had been established and had toiled away in the mines and factories ever since to pay back their debts. Always going where the company sent them. Todd was right, but that didn’t make it sting any less.

“Right,” Brett said, picking a shard up from the table and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, “which one of you idiots is going first?”

“Which one of us?” Todd chuckled, “The only reason I brought you along was so you could go first.”

“What about you?” Brett tossed the block toward Michael, who caught it against his chest. He gently pressed it between his fingers, it was rough and brittle like chalk. If he squeezed any harder he was sure it would snap in two.

“Leave him alone,” Todd said, “he’s already said he’ll do it.” 

“No he’s right,” Michael spoke up, “I’ve already nearly messed things up for you two. It’s the least I can do.”

“Are you sure?” Todd’s face was marked with concern.

“Stop treating him with kiddie gloves,” Brett said as he began to move around the small room and get it ready for filming. “No wonder he’s such a pussy.”

“Fine, but just a small bite,” Todd said with the voice of a parent. Michael wasn’t sure what stung more – Brett insulting him or Todd treating him like a child who couldn’t think for himself.

Michael eyed the small block in his hands warily as Todd and Brett pushed the table against the wall to make space in the centre of the room. A mix of sulphur and copper filled his nose. The stench of the mine clung to the small block.

“It’s too late to back out now,” Brett laughed. He was standing across the room from Michael, holding his portable terminal with the camera pointing at him. “Down the hatch!”

Michael tried to settle his stomach, his nerves had long ago spilled over and adrenaline flooded through his system. Even now, Brett still expected him to back out. So did Todd. He could feel the pre-emptive disappointment in their stares. He’d show them. He’d show everyone.

Holding his nose, he opened his mouth – and swallowed the whole shard in one bite.

“Oh my god, Mick.”

The edges tore at his throat on the way down. It stung like battery acid on his tongue, and the back of his throat burned raw, searing the roof of his mouth. A sour heat spread upward into his sinuses, making his eyes water, and he felt his hands reactively slap to his stomach to quell the reaction he knew was coming. His breath hitched. Every muscle tensed as if bracing for impact. Michael froze. 

And then nothing.

No pain. No vomit. no flailing or screaming. Other than the bitter taste that still soured his tongue, he felt fine. How?

“…How do you feel?” Todd asked, after composing himself.

“Like you’re about to explode?” Brett called out from behind the camera.

“I feel… fine,” Michael said, confused. “I don’t… think it worked?”

Disappointment was obvious in Brett’s face as he stopped the recording and lowered his portable terminal. “I don’t get it, did we get the wrong stuff?”

“Maybe the Tartarusite on this planet is different?” Todd reasoned and turned one of the shards over in his hands.

“Why would they bother setting up a mine here if it wasn’t the same stuff? Did we get a bad batch?”

Michael dropped to the sofa behind him, his hands still clutching his stomach, and leaned his head back against the supports. “Why didn’t it work?”

“I don’t know,” Todd knelt in front of him, “I’ve never seen anybody eat that much and have no reaction. I’ve never seen anybody have no reaction.”

“You’re lucky it was a bad batch. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been pretty at all,” Brett stood over him. 

Michael let out a sharp grunt. Had they really gotten the wrong thing, or a bad batch? 

“So… what do we do now?” He asked. The longer he went without a reaction the worse he felt. How long was he supposed to wait before he knew he was fine? He’d spent all day worrying about the reaction he’d have when eating the Tartarusite, but this was a far worse feeling.

“I don’t know,” Todd stared at him with a clueless expression. None of them had expected this. “I suppose we get rid of it.”

“Don’t be daft,” Brett placed a hand on Todd’s chest to stop him before he reached the table, “Michael’s might have been a dud but we won’t know that for sure unless we give it a try.”

Todd looked down at his brother, and back to Brett. “Go on then, but we go together – I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Despite the disappointment from Michael’s attempt, they were able to reignite their previous excitement with nothing more than a few shared glances, a private language honed through the years.

Michael struggled to hold the terminal steady as he filmed Todd and Brett make a show of placing a small scrap from the red brick like clumps on their tongues for the camera and count from three on their fingers. Three. Two. One.

With balled fists they closed their mouths – the aftertaste flooded Michael’s.

Brett scrunched his face and barked a disgusted laugh. “Jesus, mate. That’s awful–”

His words cut off with a wet gasp.

In the span of a blink, both Todd and Brett collapsed, bodies convulsing violently on the floor. Their spines cracked and wrenched backwards and forwards in off-beat pulses. A thick, dark red liquid erupted from their mouths, steaming as it hit the floor. Immediately, the air turned acrid and the room filled with the scent of burnt tyres.  

Brett and Todd had laughed at the clips of kids their age doing what they’d done – replayed them, even. But watching this unfold in real time, just feet away, Michael didn’t find it funny at all. Had he ever?

“TODD!” Michael cast the portable terminal aside and rushed to his brother’s aid, rolling him onto his side; the red liquid had turned to a frothing foam which he wiped from his brother’s mouth. Todd’s back snapped with every expulsion. 

The redness pooled around them, coagulating, and Michael had to tear his knee free from the floor with his hands to stand back up.

Michael’s pulse thundered in his ears. The sound of violent heaving spurted across the floor, wet and involuntary.

The heaving stopped. Both boys erupted into breathless, wheezing laughter.

Michael staggered back, heart in his throat as Brett rolled onto his side, coughing red with a grin stretched across his face. Todd dragged himself upright, coughing as sludge clung to his cotton jumpsuit in tacky patches.

“That was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted,” Brett said through heavy breaths.

“I, oh wow, oh wow” Todd let out an extended laugh and struggled himself free from the pool that surrounded him.

“I don’t understand how you haven’t thrown up yet,” Brett said to Michael, “maybe you should try a bite of one of ours.”

The pit in Michael’s stomach sunk deeper. Whatever it was that was sitting inside him was a ticking time bomb. He touched his hands to his stomach again, careful not to press too hard. “I don’t ever want to so much as see that stuff again.”

“I don’t think it’s safe leaving it in you,” Todd stepped toward him, “I really think we should try and make you be sick.”

“I’m fine,” Michael snarled through gritted teeth, “it’s getting late. I just want to go to sleep.”

####

Hours passed, each one spent drifting in and out of sleep. Michael laid stiff on his bed, palms pressed to his swollen stomach. Something was wrong. 

How long had he been staring at the ceiling waiting for it to pass? Long enough for night to fade and sunlight to break through the gaps in the curtain and flood the room. Sweat clung to him more than usual. His sheets were drenched in it, the clammy weight of the fabric reminding him of the cotton of the powder blue jumpsuit. 

Brett’s battered terminal trilled and beeped from the other side of the room as he scrolled endlessly. He’d been up all night.  Most people needed sleep to function properly; Brett needed something else, something deeper. The hope of a way out, neatly packaged and delivered through a never ending algorithmic feed.

The bottom of Michael’s bed sunk and the back of Todd’s hand sent waves of ice through his skull. 

“I definitely shouldn’t have eaten that much,” he groaned.

“I told you to only take a small bite,” Todd’s voice was heavy with concern. 

“I just wanted you to think I was cool.” Michael half chuckled through the pain.

“I think we should take you to see a doctor,” Todd pulled his hand from Michael’s forehead and took the relief it provided with it. “You’re burning up.”

A commotion sounded from Brett’s terminal and he frantically leapt across the room.

“Mate, you’re not gonna believe this,” A wild grin possessed Brett’s face as he squeezed at the portable terminal in his hands with excitement. “You’re already at a hundred thousand views.”

He crossed the room in a blur, and shoved the screen in Michael’s face. On it, he saw himself from the night before, his panicked expression after the Tartarusite had failed to cause a reaction.

“You posted it?” he pushed the screen out of his face and pulled himself from his bed, his arms burning with the effort.

“Yeah,” Brett laughed, “After we’d cleaned everything up. Our video barely got sixty views but you’ve blown up. People think you might be immune, they want to see you do it again.”

He didn’t feel immune. Instead, he felt like something was building inside of him and no matter how much he tried to ignore it, it still swelled inside.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea at all,” Todd grabbed the terminal from Brett’s hand and scrolled through the comments himself.

“We’ve already had five thousand credits donated,” Brett gleamed, “we’d be stupid not to try it again. This is our ticket out of here.” His eyes held on Todd who turned to look at his brother.

Five thousand credits.

It was more than the three of them made in a month combined. On Tartarus-9, or anywhere else for that matter, money like that didn’t exist for people like them. Not after the company took their cut. Rent, utilities, food and water rations, transit fees. By the time Tartarus Corp had carved out its own slice most workers would be lucky to have a couple hundred credits to their name.

Brett might be right. At the very least this felt something like a chance – a way off this rock.

The planet shook beneath his feet, and the pain in Michael’s chest throbbed in rhythm.

“Mate, this is it!” Brett’s voice cracked as he jabbed his finger against the terminal screen. “Five THOUSAND credits.”

“It’s up to Mick,” Todd said. At first the words didn’t register, and then Michael suddenly felt overwhelmed with the responsibility. All of their futures rested in his hands. How much worse would one, or maybe two, more bites be?

“What about seeing a doctor?” Michael asked. “Have we even got enough left?”

“More than enough for a couple more videos,” Brett moved over to the table that was still pushed up against the wall from the night before. 

Michael stood quiet, his hand pressed against his stomach as another dull pulse rolled through him. Back upright, the pain hadn’t gone away but lessened enough for him to pretend he might be ok after all, at least long enough to give them all a chance to get away from here.

For the first time in Michael’s life it was Todd that was depending on him.

“And the doctor?” Todd questioned.

Going to a doctor wasn’t an option. One scan and they would know exactly what was sitting inside of him, and then they’d be lucky if their next view of the mine came through the bars of a prison transport. 

Michael forced a smile as Todd glanced over. “I’m fine,” he muttered. The lie sat heavy in his throat.

“Great, that settles it,” Brett beamed. 

If he did this right, they’d be off world long before the company noticed.

####

The credits that came flooding in showed no signs of slowing down. In three days they had amassed over forty-six thousand, more than enough to get the three of them off-world. Almost enough to get them far enough away for it to count.

Michael’s days had gotten longer. The pain that ate away at him made even the simplest activity difficult. He’d gone twice over his water rations just trying to keep up. As the drills burrowed deeper towards the core of Tartarus-9 he felt himself hollowing out, no amount of swallowed shards filled the void growing inside of him.

The video had spread across half a dozen systems, but he still wanted more. The donations that came through were still one offs, tips, but every night he checked his terminal for word on a sponsor or some off-world contract that would really change things.

Making it off-world was one thing, sure, but if they spent all their money on getting to the central colonies they would just end up back in some other mine or factory trying to eke out a living. It would take big money to change things permanently, real money.

“Mick,” a voice called out from behind him and broke Michael from his reverie. “Are you feeling alright?”

He turned to face where the voice was coming from and saw a vague figure standing in dark blue. His eyes didn’t see much anymore. He squinted, in hopes of recognising who it was.

“Y’know Johnson’s looking for you?” The voice continued, “You, Todd, and Brett. Apparently one of the bigwigs has arrived on-world and your names were brought up.”

The price of fame, it seemed, had finally caught up with them.

Michael’s chest tightened and he dropped the tool he’d been barely hanging onto. It clanged against the ground. He’d been sent to do something with it, but he couldn’t remember what. Instead, he’d found a small gust of air conditioning to rest beneath. His body hadn’t stopped sweating and the heat was getting worse. It felt as if his bone marrow might start melting.

He slapped himself, a sharp crack across the cheek, to shake the fog that filled his head. His body lurched into staggered motion. He had to find Todd and Brett before Johnson did. Somebody must have seen the videos. It had only been a matter of time.

The mine blurred past as he stumbled through the stream of workers. The facility was in full swing. Todd and Brett could be anywhere in the chaos. He rubbed his eyes to try and clear his vision, but the touch only sent a lance of pain deep into his skull.

Every step caused his muscles to scream at him, his legs thumping and his chest tight as he gasped for breath he couldn’t find.

His body carried him down into the pit.

It had begun as a crater in the planet’s surface, wide enough to be the size of a city back on the central colonies. Over time, crews had carved descending terraces into the rust orange rock, each level braced with scaffolds and access ramps. Free-standing construction lamps loomed over Michael as he descended, their glow fighting against the shadow of the sprawling facility above. 

The whole world seemed to disappear into the smoke and dust below. He could always smell the pit from anywhere on the colony, but the fumes were noxious here. How much worse must they be at the bottom, if there even was one? The drills may well have already reached the planet’s core for the heat and the stench that wafted upwards.

Out on the walkways Michael felt a pull from the bottom of the mine. His stomach sagged. The bottom of the pit was reaching out to him, as if calling for him. He took a step to the edge without looking and peered over.

“Let go of me!”

Several levels below, the guard from the checkpoint – the red emblem emblazoned on his chest – clamped a hand around Todd’s arm and wrenched it behind his back. Todd cried out and tried to fight free but two more guards closed in and grabbed him from either side. A Tartarus Corp company officer dressed in a dark suit, ambivalent to the heat, barked something Michael couldn’t make out and the guards shoved Todd towards a side tunnel. The officer followed them inside.

Pain wracked through Michael and he screamed. Was he too late to save Todd? His fingers dug into the metal walkway and broke pieces of it away. His stomach grew bigger, pushing against his jumpsuit. The cotton stretched to tearing. His skin was on fire.

He followed after them, circling down the stairways level by level. Nobody broke away from their work as he passed, the screech of the drills as they burrowed into the planet filled his ears. 

Further in, he spotted Todd and Brett slumped against the tunnel wall, A group of guards standing watch over them. Todd was the first to notice him, then Brett. Their eyes screamed for him to turn around and run. To leave them behind and get out at all costs.

A loud crack echoed through the tunnel and the planet cried out. The drills had broken through another layer.   

The pain in Michael’s chest exploded. A moment of serenity washed over him, before he was filled with a raging heat. The guards turned towards him, jolted by the crack that came from within the planet, or the sharper, human one that came out of him. Rifles clicked into position. Barrels trained onto his chest.

Todd rushed towards Michael, just as his brother’s body snapped backwards. A sudden, violent fountainhead of dark red liquid purged itself from Michael’s mouth, blasting outward with enough force to hurl the brothers in opposite directions. Numbness enveloped Michael, a soft blanket between him and each of his senses. 

Through the haze he could almost hear the commotion around him, feel the vibrations of footsteps as everybody scattered. Todd cried out and Michael felt himself sinking into unconsciousness.

####

The stench was the first thing to hit him when he came to. That, and the ache in his jaw. His stomach growled and his lips were cracked dry.

The tunnel had been plunged into near darkness.The red liquid had spread and covered everything, oxidised like rust against the steel and rock walls.

His arms burned as his hands searched for the ground beneath him but found nothing. He wasn’t on his back, but upright. The liquid had hardened into a shell around him, a pooling mass that flexed against his body.

A sensation tickled the back of his neck, and he could feel the red liquid extending through the tunnel system, carrying him back towards the pit. It pulled in everything it touched.

The mass squeezed against his chest, cracking his ribs beneath its weight. Was he the only one that made it?

“Todd,” he shouted as loud as his aching throat would let him, “Todd!?”

There was no response. He shut his eyes and tried to feel the sensation from before again, to see if there was some way he could know what was happening. The pit answered him, calling out to what was taken from it.

The mass flexed and shattered the walls beside him. It wanted to lead him back, back down to the bottom of the abyss. Michael fought with it, willing it to move in a direction he chose. It flexed again, harder this time. The tunnel collapsed around him and the ground below fell through.

He fell with it, his body and the mass it now belonged to crashing into the drills and equipment below the facility. Metal crunched against metal. Michael bellowed a raw, inhuman sound, and tried to force the mass to twist away from the pit, to do anything but drag him down there. The muscles that were still his own pulled and tore as he struggled, though they were swallowed by the bulk that now answered only partly to him.

From the depths of the crater, a presence sang to him. A low, resonant thrumming through the marrow he could no longer feel.

The mass wrapped around the drills and snapped them beneath its pressure. Michael strained against it, trying to pull himself free with all the strength he had left, but the mass stretched with him. With each piece of metal and machinery it shattered and consumed, it swelled. It had doubled in size since the moment Michael first woke up fused to it, and it was still growing.

His body gave out and the mass pulled him further in. He couldn’t feel his legs. Couldn’t feel anything below his chest. Was there anything left, or was this all he was now? 

The remains of the facility behind him broke free from its supports and tumbled into the pit below. An explosion shook the planet and what little control he had left was wrestled from him. Giant cracks appeared in the ground and stretched all the way to the city on the horizon. 

The planet roared.

The tingle in the back of his neck exploded in intensity and the thing that had been growing inside of him uncoiled in full. Whatever force resided at the bottom of the abyss, in the depths of the planet’s core, had finally awoken and what remained of his body vibrated in song. The planet’s hunger coursed through his veins, his stomach gnawed at him.

Crowds of screaming workers cramped in the tunnels were engulfed in its wake. It wanted to consume. He wanted to consume. Every piece of Tartarusite hacked away and stolen by the company cried out to him. He needed to get each one of them back.

Michael sank, folding inward, and slipped below the surface of the mass until he could no longer tell where it ended and he began. Maybe there was no difference anymore. Tartarus Corp had hollowed out the planet, hollowed out all the people that lived on it, and now something else looked to fill that space.

The steel and concrete towers in the distance flexed and bowed as the cracks in the planet’s surface opened beneath them. The planet’s anger overwhelmed him. It was taking back that which had been taken from it.

As his mind submerged beneath the greater will, Michael held onto the image of Todd’s reassuring hand on his shoulder and Brett’s wide smile as he shoved the terminal in his face.

Five thousand credits would have made all the difference for them. A fortune for kids born into nothing. They could have made it work, found somewhere to start again that wasn’t quite as bad. Somewhere out from under the thumb of the company.

The planet cracked into a dozen pieces and the ground gave way beneath him. Michael tumbled towards the planet’s core and all at once he was struck with an overwhelming sense of togetherness. His mind was consumed by a single consciousness spread across the system, other mines on other planets breaking loose from their supports.

As he finally slipped away he couldn’t help but wonder how many more views his videos would get now, once word of what happened here reached the central colonies. 

Would his name echo across The Feed?