The Blog of Marek Cottingham
Background:
This story was inspired by the game Rimworld, a colony building game set in the distant future of a space faring human civilisation. The hardest starting scenario in the game is called ‘Naked brutality’, where you start with nothing, not even clothes.
The front panel of the drop pod crashed into the earth below as Zoomie collapsed on top of it. The light was blinding after the darkness of the pod. She felt the metal of the pod door cold against her slimy skin. Dimly, she tried to figure out what had landed her in this situation. She’d gone in for surgery that morning – well she couldn’t be sure it was still the same day anymore – she’d had a knee injury and needed an operation, yet somehow had ended up tumbling out of a drop pod. The concern played on her mind as her eyes adjusted to the light and she looked around. Grass. Trees. Not reassuring. Where the hell was she?
Looking down, she realised that she was butt naked and dripping with warm slime. That was concerning. The wind was blowing gently and she was already starting to feel cold. Climbing back into the pod, she looked for anything that might be of use. The bottom was still full of the slimy gunk. Just below head height a series of tubes were dangling down – it looked like a fancy version of those life support systems they hook people up to in hospitals. Was this a cryosleep pod? Slowly, the realisation dawned on her: she could be anywhere in the galaxy, an arbitrary amount of time in the future.
Zoomie slumped, now waist deep in the goop and lay there, shaking. The memory of her sister was fresh in her mind. It felt like it’d been only hours since they’d seen each other. But if cryopods were involved, there was no doubt, it hadn’t been just hours. For all she knew, all her family and friends might be long dead. The thought bounced round and round in her head until she was utterly overwhelmed. She fell asleep in the warm gunk.
Awakening, she saw that the sky was now a deep orange. The slime had cooled, no longer warm and comfortable like before. The air was frigid. Zoomie thought back to the survival camps she’d had as a kid. Shelter. That’s right, she needed a shelter if she wanted to survive the night. Stepping out of the pod, she surveilled the forest around her. It was early spring, the trees growing fresh green leaves. Bird calls and the croaking of frogs buzzed in her ears.
Her hope that the pod might contain some sort of survival or first aid equipment was quickly dashed upon inspection. The pod must have been designed by a maniac. A cryosleep capsule was jammed inside, the power and resource connectors dangling out the back. A insulating sheet was squeezed between the casket and the pod wall. She gave it a tug and it budged. Slowly working the sheet free, she wrapped it around herself like a towel. Dragging the pod door behind her, she made for the trees.
Waking, Zoomie climbed out of the makeshift shelter she’d made. She carefully rewrapped the insulating sheet around herself. It made for an unwieldy piece of clothing, forcing her to constantly grip the top lest it fall down. If she was to going to be able to move around freely, she’d have to fix that.
The light of the day also revealed another issue. There was a deep scrape running from the drop pod to her lean to, where she’d dragged the pod door last night. She’d rather spot any potential investigators before they saw her, not the other way round.
Zoomie headed back to the drop pod. Searching around the edge of the pod door, she found what she was looking for. A metal rod protruded about half a centimeter from a smooth plastic box, attached to the outer pod wall. Normally, this contraption was used to lock the pod door in place. She didn’t need it for such an advance function.
Grabbing a large jagged shaped stone from the ground nearby, she hefted it, readying to strike the side of the pod. The insulating sheet shifted, falling down to her waist. In discarding the damned thing, she allowed the cool air to once again caress her skin. The sensation raised goosebumps and made her shiver. But it was also freeing, the relaxed casual nudity reminding her of her days skinny dipping as a kid.
Sharply, she snapped her focus back to the task at hand. Those memories would just lead her to thoughts she couldn’t afford at the moment.
Raising the rock one again, she struck the side of the pod. A violent crash rung out across the clearing. So much for being discreet. The strike had dented the side of the pod, cracking the metal. Further exertion broke free a small piece of the pod wall, with the plastic box attached. Smashing the box, Zoomie sorted through the scatter components, until she found it. A rounded metal rod, roughly the dimensions of a large pencil.
By sharpening the rod against a nearby rock, she was able to fashion a rudimentary needle. Using the needle, she was able to punch holes in the insulating sheet. Taking vines from a nearby tree, she threaded them through the holes, tying them into a pair of shoulder straps. She felt quite proud, donning her newly improvised garment. Nobody could deny, she was quite the resourceful survivor.