Ryker Petrović

[Ryker]

Dayton, 2044

“Fission reaction halted,” Steve declared, interpreting the gauges that looked like another language to Ryker. In his other ear, Massimo repeated the same almost word for word on relay from Wioletta. Almost on cue, both men directed their attention from neutrino readings to pressure gauges. Twelve separate gauges were all climbing steadily to the right. The top rows were indicators from within the containment vessel itself. Nothing to worry about. The fission reaction halted, but with the turbines down, the hot water was boiling off, unable to be carried away. The building steam rose the pressure. It was according to plan. So long as the pressure didn’t blow up the containment vessel itself, it was fine.

But then something passed his senses so fierce, it nearly knocked the wind out of him. Ryker uncharacteristically put a hand to his forehead, fighting the dizzying darkness. It felt like it was right behind him.

Steve put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.
“It’s alright, man. It’s alright. We’re safe. The vessel is holding. Just need to get the turbines going again,” he explained. It was normal for men to panic in such a situation, but that wasn’t what was happening. He wished for something as simple as panic. This felt like a drum inside his head, pounding from inside, trying to claw its way out. He was so startled, he didn't even drop Steve to the ground for touching him.

That menacing darkness pulled him away from the panels. He was backing away, trying not to freak out by this unknown sensation. Was it radioactivity? Compromise? Poison? Had he snapped? He backed all the way into the breezeway rail.

He slowly turned, eyes settling upon the pitch black surface of the massive pools. Far beneath the surface, the containment vessel was steadily growing in pressure as the radiant rod heat boiled off the water level. If the water boiled too low, the rod exposure to the air itself would turn explosive. 

It's fine. This was the plan. So why did he feel like he was standing at the base of a volcano on the verge of eruption?

He was staring at the pool almost like he could feel what was happening at the bottom of it. Like his very soul could peer through the meters of darkness and feel the rising heat. At that very moment little furrows of steam began to curl off the surface. He gasped. “What the hell?” he said it to himself.

“Steve! What is that?” this time, when he called the other man’s name, it was legitimately to summon him to the breezeway. Steve ran to his side. Hands gripping the rail, leaning over in shock. Dozens. No, hundreds of curls of steam began to rise from the surface. Hundreds. Moments later, thousands.

In his ear, Massimo started talking rapidly: "Wioletta says the pressure is building too fast. What’s happening?"

“The reactor pools are steaming,” Ryker responded to Massimo, but it was Steve that licked his lips. 

“That’s impossible,” he said, voice strewn to shreds. "Its too fast. Worst case scenario, the radiant heat wouldn't overload the vessel for hours."

Ryker glanced at the turbines. Fuck this! And ran for it. He retracted all the battery interruptors, crumpling hot copper foils in the palms of his hands. They sizzled at the touch. As he pulled the last one, the valves should reopen, the turbines start to spin, and the boiling water be carried outside. He stared at the turbines with such intensity, he thought his very willpower might make them start to turn. 

But as he looked back toward the pools, the steaming had transitioned to bubbling outright boils. His eyes were wide. Moments later, a huge spray of water rocketed upward in an enormous column. He threw his hands over his ears, hoping the resultant shockwave wouldn’t damage his skull. The containment vessel holding the uranium rods exploded. The water sprayed in an enormous arc toward the top of the dome screaming upward. Steve yelled in pain as boiling water landed and sizzled all around him. He ran away from the explosion toward where Ryker watched in horror. 

He frantically put a hand to his ear. "Exfiltrate me, now!" 

Alarms sounded almost the same instant.

Plan part two: literally blown to hell.