Log 1 Matter | Antimatter by Selina Brown

was a panel a
head size lower than his eyes. The light went blue and he took off
his flippers and spun the hatch on the other side of the panel. A
waft of filtered air refreshed him. He pushed his things through to
the small room and closed the hatch behind him. The safety
instructions included advice to refill the ocean to tunnel tube as
it was more likely someone needed to enter in an emergency from
that side.
    He’d been counting on the last person to have
followed said instructions since blue really wasn’t his color.
Jamie repaid the favor and peeled off his wetsuit, leaving it and
the flippers in the small room. He left a note and almost wrote
“Please return to owner” but he wrote “Please use”. Slinging his
bag over his shoulder, having pulled out his tunnel tracker first,
he headed for the main tunnel. An hour later, he arrived at a
terminal and he jumped on an almost empty transport. It looked like
a white capsule sitting on a single rail. He scanned the occupants
but couldn’t identify any operatives.
    Jamie travelled via several capsules but
exited before the main terminal. He ran down a maintenance tunnel
the rest of the way. The stops were mostly at junctions with small
food and drink shops. He’d read the larger junctions were tourist
stops so he bought a T-shirt that had printed in bright red, “I
stopped at the Deepest Junction.”
    In little time he reached his destination,
delivered his package, dry and apparently in working order, and was
allocated a transportal time to return to the secret base he
considered home.
     
    His handler, wearing his new T-shirt, and the
panel looked at his hand notes, and Jamie realized his mistakes.
He’d given too much information because they were grilling him over
and over about tiny details.
    On and on it went.
    Since Jamie was overtired with his internal
voice picking his mission to pieces—with, “You sucked,” being the
main theme along with, “Why did I do that?” and, “I should have
done that,”—he watched a movie on a wall screen in his cell,
cracked his knuckles and ate popcorn.
    His handler cracked open the door. “Good
job.” He glanced around and laughed quietly. “So, you discovered
the cell’s secrets.” Next, he tossed the pen and pad on the bed. “I
liked the smiley faces by the way.”
    Jamie shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if it was a
test so I scribbled pics and kept the info in my head. I just made
sure I was thinking that I was writing in case I was being
monitored.”
    With enigmatic smile his handler left.
    Jamie grinned, leaned over slightly, and
locked the door. The cell had many hidden amenities that he had fun
finding over the years, while some in the opulent rooms complained
of strange, annoying noises and smells.
     
    A few days later, Jamie finished his morning
run and slowed to a jog on the closest run track to his dorm when
another jogger ran over and matched pace.
    “You’re wanted, Jamie, home room, twenty
minutes.”
    He glanced at the male. “Thanks.”
    Jamie jogged back to his rooms and showered.
This should be make or break time. The water ran over his skin,
washing away sweat and tension. He dried and dressed in standard
clothes—dark blue pants and white shirt. His shoes made little
noise as he headed over to the home room in the main complex. He
walked down the corridor, knocked at the door and a softly spoken
recruit asked him to wait in a smaller room. While he waited he
picked up an AM mag with “Fusion Warfare” splashed in red over the
front cover. He’d taken several courses in hybrid wars and several
sub courses that covered strategies and tactics. In fusion warfare
the lines blurred between war, politics, combatants, and civilians.
In Jamie’s mind every time decentralization stretched to a certain
point the old ways would snap back like a rubber band into their
original form. It needed just that little bit more to break the
cycle or form to become something really new. Several minutes
later,