Hell Divers

rookie diver. I'm fine, man. After a tense moment, X went to check on Rodney, who was pushing one dark brown foot through his black bodysuit. He glanced up, his blank, emotionless gaze seeming to look through X rather than at him. He was the third most experienced diver on the ship. The work had hardened him over the years, and sometimes X had the passing thought that Rodney wanted to die. One of the doctors had asked X the same question after his last health exam. But who could say? Deep down, all hell divers must have at least some hint of a death wish. Listen up, everyone, X said. I just came from command. Captain Ash said the skies look good. No sign of electrical storms over the drop zone. What's on the list this time? Rodney asked. Clear of fuel cells. That's it. The captain was very clear. Man, what happened to searching for other shit? Will said. I miss the days of scavenging for real treasure. X glared at him. You should be happy that today's dive is over a green zone. Less chance of radiation on the surface. I guess I could get used to these green zone dives, Will said. Maybe I'll live to become a legend like you someday. He flashed a grin that evaporated under X's scowl. Will was about as young as X had been when he joined the hell divers, and just about as naive. Hard to believe that was twenty years ago. X wasn't a legend by any stretch of the imagination, but he did have more successful jumps under his belt than any other diver in history. The only one who came close was a guy named Rick Weaver on their sister ship, Ares. Last X heard, Weaver was still diving. Looking back his head, X swallowed two more stims. He washed them down with a swig from his water bottle, grimaced, and faced Aaron. How's the little man doing, he said. I haven't seen tin for a few weeks. And Michael's growing up way too fast, Aaron said. He just got accepted into engineering school a couple of weeks ago. They took him two years early. X caught the trace of sadness in Aaron's sharp blue eyes, but he wasn't sure what it meant. Was it because he hadn't made an effort to see tin lately, or because tin had decided to become an engineer instead of a hell diver? You didn't think he would want to follow in your footsteps, did you? X asked. Oh, hell no, Aaron said, his blonde eyebrows scrunched together. Would never want this life for my boy. Can't say as I blame him. Aaron hesitated, his lips forming a thin line. I wasn't going to mention it, but he missed his birthday. Shit, X muttered. When did he turn nine? Aaron's brows scrunched again. He's ten. X looked at the floor. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to him after we get back. Aaron shut his locker. I won't hold my breath. There was nothing else to say, really. X needed to prove himself, not make another hollow He grabbed his well-worn bodysuit from his locker and slipped his legs through. The internal padding conformed to his musculature as he zipped up the front. Aaron handed him the black matte armor that shielded his vital organs. The piece felt light in his hands, but the titanium outer shell could stop a shotgun blast. The chest plate had saved him from broken bones or worse on countless dives. Sliding the armor over his head, he sucked in his stomach and fastened the clasps on both sides. It was snug, molded to fit the body of a much younger man, long before his metabolism slowed and his bad habits caught up with him. The titanium leg and arm guards didn't fit much better. He clipped them over old muscle covered in a layer of fat that seemed to cling on no matter how many push-ups or laps around the ship he did. After affixing the guards, he slid the helmet on. He completed the routine by inserting his battery unit into the socket on his chest plate. It flickered to life, spreading a cool blue glow over the dull black armor. The equipment was old, like just about everything else on the ship, but the pieces fit together perfectly and protected him from the hostile conditions of a dive. Tubes are ready, a voice yelled from inside X's launch tube. Ty, the team's technician, climbed out, wiping grease onto his yellow jumpsuit. He chomped nervously on a calorie-infused herb stick. No matter how many of the damn things Ty ate, he stayed thin as a whippet. X grabbed a vest stuffed with flares and shotgun shells, slung it over his shoulder, and headed for the drop tubes, scanning the porthole windows as he walked. Nothing to see but swirling dark clouds. The divers from Team Angel made room as X and his men reached their tubes. Rodney and Will hurried over.