Prose:Entering the Sigma Unit
Having folded the last of my clothes neatly into the bag, I handed them to the guard. Stripping bare naked didn’t even seem to faze him, as he turned back to me.
“I need you to confirm you’ve read and understood the Sigma Unit Security Policy.”
“I have.”
“And that you understand intentional or unintentional violations of said policy may result in severe injury or death.”
“I do.”
“Sign here.”
He handed me a tablet computer. I scribbled my signature on the bottom. I wasn’t even thinking about it. Instead, my mind was trained on the heavy blast doors in front of me, and whatever lay beyond.
“We are done with the paperwork. Are you ready to proceed?”
“Yes.”
The guard tapped his badge on the reader, entering his PIN and scanning his biometrics.
“Now, scan in.”
I did the same. The reader flashed a green checkmark as the traffic light changed to orange and the blast door began to whir and click.
“I am relieving you of your badge. It will be returned once you have exited the Unit.”
I handed my orange GAMMA clearance badge, the last thing I was holding, over to him. I felt far more naked now than I could’ve without my clothes.
“I’ll be off shift when you’re scheduled out, but I wish you the best of luck. Godspeed.”
I stepped across the threshold. The room inside was dimly lit, and the cold, dry air - artificial-feeling, even by the Descent’s standards - made me shiver.
My gaze soon met a massive, cylindrical monolith of a machine in the middle of the room. Glowing red components were visible beneath the surface. A yellow radiation trefoil was painted on the side of its base. The air around it shimmered, and even from outside the marked exclusion zone I could feel the heat of the electron gun cathodes being kept warm.
I heard the blast door thump shut from behind me, the heavy impact resonating throughout my body. The whirring of the bolts extending and the click-hum of the forcefield powering up served as a reminder that I was now locked in a room with one of the most lethal weapon systems ever created.
A shrill synthesised voice erupted from a loudspeaker.
“Stand in the green zone and await scanning.”
I did as it asked.
“Scan commencing. Do not move.”
A deep humming sound started to come from the Sentinel in the middle of the room, as a glowing strip down the middle illuminated. It began to spin, sweeping the room; then it came to a stop, servos clicking as it aligned its sensor array with me.
More beams swept over me. I almost reflectively blinked from the blinding lights, but I didn’t dare move. Not even my eyes.
The beams shut off. The device went silent.
Then, the voice returned.
“Deliberation in progress. Do not move.”
My right leg had started to cramp up.
“Deliberation in progress. Do not move.”
Fuck. It stung.
After what seemed like an eternity, I watched the inner door traffic light flip from red to yellow. Relief flooded back into me. I let out a massive sigh of relief, leaning down and grimacing, massaging my leg.
As the inner door swung open, a very different looking guard greeted me. The attire - stark white coveralls and a hood - said cleanroom, but the massive rifle she was carrying told a different story.
She handed me a neatly folded stack of spotless white garments.
“Dress. You have three minutes.”
She, and the cameras, watched me the whole time.
“Your Sigma badge.”
I accepted the badge and clipped it to my waist as carefully as you’d handle a live bomb.
“Follow me. Two-person integrity at all times. Do not deviate.”
The corridor was claustrophobic. It stank of cleaning product and ozone. Cold air blew from large vents marked with “ECLSS” and “DO NOT OBSTRUCT”. Something behind the walls buzzed with energy, making my hair stand on end.
Doors flanked the corridor. As we walked, I’d see them slide open, and two, or three, hooded figures would enter or leave. We never made eye contact.
After winding through more of the maze, we stopped at one of the doors. CRYPTO PARTITION A-10, it read.
“Task verification. Go.”
I said what I’d memorised.
“The replacement and reconfiguration of rapid message processor Z-003-16 in Rack 12 inside Partition 10 for RCON-BMS. The task will take approximately 50 minutes, with a possible deviation of between 5 and 7 minutes”
The guard tapped her badge against the reader, and I followed into the room behind her.
“Proceed.”