act16mini

The curtains in the shack are slightly shorter than the windows. Before the furnaces heat up, the machines start to turn, and the city itself awakens, the first pinpricks of dawn light prod at anyone still asleep.

And yet, I've never fixed those curtains.

In a daze, still foggy from sleep, those rays show me a momentary trick of the light, an immense shadow.

Head still whirling, caught right at that point where my sleep-addled brain doesn't know who I even am, the light gets me up. I ought to tidy up my things and head out already.

Laborers scurry all about, rushing to the mines before they even open, all so that they can get the good jobs before they're gone.

Let's go, Sandbeast.

Hey, not there. You forget already? That mine there already hired some safety specialists.

We'll go try our luck at the northwest side today.

(Slowly stretches its backfin)

Strewth, one that big, must be full-grown, yeah?

Yep.

Don't often see a pitsinker's sandbeast grow that big. Your luck's not half bad.

Could be.

You'll need a little luck this time. If you can get down this shaft today, rules say I pay you double. You'll have to take the 'extra goodies' out yourself, of course.

Alright. Lead the way.

Whoa, hold it. That's it, no questions asked?

You don't look like a hothead new hand. You hear 'double pay' and sign on the dotted line?

A Catastrophe's torn up the land for a few hundred clicks out west the past few days. Big earthquakes. That's got the Originium crystals in our mineshaft multiplying like mad, an absolute mess down there. You got all that?

Yeah. Got it.

You're not taking me seriously here. Awful foolish.

Or are you trying to say that you're really some kind of specialist, seen this sorta thing every day?

Specialist...? Wouldn't go that far. I've just spent a few years pitsinking.

I'll play it safe. If I died, there'd be no one to take care of my Sandbeast.

Hmph. Should've figured. A safety specialist wouldn't go about looking for work in the first place.

Alright. I've said everything I need to say.

Fingerless Ollie! Quit drinking and get prepping. Safety rope's gotta be on her nice and tight before we drop her down.

I don't know what other people think when they say 'mineshaft'.

The pounding echoes, the moist stench, the boiling hot air, the bitterness of sweat on your tongue... Maybe that sort of thing.

I'm a pitsinker. Every day, before the miners get to work, I go down the shaft to scout the conditions. Alone. This early, the shaft's nothing but darkness.

The mine cage descends, the voices up top slowly fade away, and the everything around me gets eaten up by the dark. And that's when my senses get keen.

I'm no fan of the pitch black, but the feeling of darkness is the one thing that's most familiar.

Pitsinker, what's it like down there?

Sandbeast's backfin is raised, but its veins haven't changed color. Standard response. Should be safe for the time being.

Is the map current?

We haven't had time to mark out the new shaft yet, but the major chambers haven't changed.

Alright.

What was that?

Infused Originium Slug. Handled it.

But it's not a good sign.

We almost never see the explodey critters down in the mine. Things might be even worse than we expected.

I gotta remind you, when you're at that depth, you move forward a little bit further and there's no signal.

Yep.

If something happens down here, I'll come back to report.

It's getting darker.

The seal on the sluice gate holding back the water is still in decent condition, and the channel's not blocked. Still operating normally.

What else do I need to check... Originium crystal growth range and activity.

The condition of the support struts. Whether or not they're at risk of collapse.

The condition of the drains. Whether or not they might leak.

Also the air quality. Whether or not there's a chance of toxic gas leakage.

Watch your step, Sandbeast.

The lights down this way are broken too.

I can't really see anything with only my headlamp.

Sandbeast, help me take a peek.

The ventilation shaft's been pierced by an Originium crystal. Floor's covered in fragments, and the crystal surface is still thin. This one's only just emerged.

But there, there is but total darkness.

It looks like there's huge cavities on the back of the support struts. Were they burnt away... or perhaps bored clean? It's crawling with Originium slugs.

But there, there is but total darkness.

There's water pooling above, not yet showing signs of seepage, but there's abnormal airflow in the water. Bubbles are coming up mighty strong.

But there, there is but total darkness.

Your backfin, it's covered in Originium dust.

The color of the blood vessels...

Toxic gas leak.

We've got to go.

Getting hauled back up to the surface from the bottom of the mine takes yonks.

I never did figure out exactly how long. Just chinning up and looking out into the distance was enough for me.

I think this when other pitsinkers would count the rocks they managed to haul up. Didn't matter how much ore you took out. Mine owners didn't really care.

Only those very small, privately-run mines would seek out temporary pitsinkers. Drilling ever deeper shafts, extracting ever more valuable Originium ore, the bottoms of the mines ever more dangerous.

You're still with me, right, Sandbeast?

No haul for me today.

Although there might still be infected critters about, I put away my weapon to have a hand free. Despite this, operating the sluice gate one-handed is really tough. Eats up a lot of time.

I do my best to run out, feeling Sandbeast's lowered backfin pricking my arm.

This was the first sandbeast I bought.

I remember two years back when I bought it. The shopkeep gave me a piece of colored paper and a folded photo.

He told me that the way the lantern light looks passing through the capillaries in the sandbeast's backfin tells you the mine's air quality.

It's been a pretty handy detection method. This time, before I felt out of breath, I recognized that dazzling dark violet on Sandbeast's body.

He told me that with a fella this sensitive, the life lost wouldn't have to be mine.

Captain, raise the cage, if you would.

We're heading back up now, Sandbeast.

I got a pretty decent pay packet, could use it to buy that new feed they put out... We could also go see a doctor. Gotta keep you healthy.

Time was, the folks in the mine wouldn't tell me if things were dangerous, or ask me if I really wanted to go into the pit. They could wait until I was lifted back up to the surface, watch how I breathed, look at the color of the blood in my nicks and scratches.

As the cage rises, I can't hear Sandbeast's breathing over the blowing of the wind and the rumbling of the machines.

It isn't moving. All I can do is chin up and look out into the distance.

After a while, the darkness begins to crack open, just a tad. I can tell it isn't just some trick of the eye from spending too long in the dark, and it definitely isn't me hallucinating.

It's daylight.

You'll be alright.

It feels like I've always been waiting for this moment.

When we're up top, breathing in that fresh air, getting some sun, we'll be alright.

Like that fantasy I've been holding on tight for.

Look, it's the entrance—

It comes to me, that the aftereffects of the earthquake Catastrophes are still ongoing, what with all the dust and sand in the air.

There's no daylight at the entrance.

Checking on a sandbeast is real simple. If the membranes of the backfin have increased bloodflow, it shows that the poison's already had time to accumulate in the body.

If Sandbeast keels over, then I'll just have to buy a new one.

I've still got two sacks of feed in the house, people can't eat it.

Tomorrow morning, I'm thinking of checking out a mine in another direction.

Tomorrow morning...

It'll be alright once daybreak comes.

Where's your sandbeast? Popped its socks?

Well that's not good. We don't want any pitsinker who doesn't come with her own sandbeast.

Those things were basically born to die. If you're not willing to part with the money to buy a new one, you'll quickly meet your end down in the pit.