The Rubbish Realm

Chapter 20

Fred reloaded his email again. Still nothing. I just made the greatest scientific discovery since Newton, why haven't they emailed me back? His phone, government issued, recorded everything on it, including the Google Maps, which had already sent a bug report to its supplier, presumably. Isn't Google a monopoly yet? He was interested enough to do a Google search before the irony occurred to him - Googling if Google is a monopoly... the technophobists would not be happy with me.
He shivered, pulling the fleece-lined jacket tighter around him. The cold Saskatchewan air was far colder than he was used to, and the helicopter only had so much gas, certainly not enough to waste running the heating system. ...should I call 911? Would they believe me? ...is 911 even 911 in Canada? His thoughts were swirling into anxiety, but he caught himself with practiced hand. Breathe deeply, it'll be alright...
He closed his eyes, shivering slightly, and pulled himself together. Still no response. Do I have cell service? He did. Sigh...
It's been 15 minutes! Their typical response time, especially with the urgent line, was less than a minute (something he knew far too well from his various misadventures), but still, no response. What is going on? Do they think I'm crazy? To be fair, that would be more reasonable than reality, if he really wasn't dreaming. I'm pretty cold for dreaming...
The lack of a response was eating at him, everything in him urging him to do something about it, spam them, leave, do something - so, naturally, he did. Revving up the helicopter, he smiled to himself. Nothing better than a good flight up in the blue. All his training came back to him, how he shouldn't do anything without permission, but nah. They weren't listening to him, he wouldn't listen to them.
The engine whirred to life once again, as if the cold meant nothing to it. It probably doesn't, honestly. It gained height, and then more height as the blades spun around and around. Everything was working how it should be as he went to fly back over the void. I don't want to run into a mountain again, I'd better get higher this time. So he hovered in midair, gaining altitude, until he was higher than the great hills around him (not mountains, according to Google), soaring in the sky like the giant bird the helicopter was supposed to be. Fred grinned.
High enough for him, he turned the helicopter over towards the abyss and braced himself for another experience like the first, Google Maps out and ready again. Will I end up where I started?
Time seemed to slow as he reached the abyss, the edge was approaching, closer, closer - gone.
But he wasn't on land again, no. Instead, he was over the chasm, presumably. Looking around him the sky seemed normal, but looking down was just... more sky. On a whim, he turned the helicopter upside down with some deft maneuvering - oops, gravity definitely still applies.What is going on?
To be fair, it looked about the same as it had looked from the rim of the chasm, just blue sky as far as the eye could see, except this time he couldn't see land to the sides of him. He figured he might as well drop down into the chasm and see what was going on, though he'd have to keep air pressure in mind. He lowered the level, bringing the helicopter slowly down, and down, and down. The chasm walls, earth's crust, loomed above him as he got deeper and deeper, although the atmosphere seemed similar somehow, the air below him a little less purple and more... just like the sky he'd came from. It was rather eerie.
He could start to see the underside of the crust, somehow lit, as if by a refraction of the sun's light. It was almost as creepy as the sight of the crust as far as the eye could see... except where he was, no clouds blocking his view of the bedrock. He could start to see something under him when he leaned over, though helicopters weren't exactly made for looking underneath of. He checked Google Maps - Milwaukee, Wisconsin. In 500 feet, turn left. It didn't have a helicopter mode, so it still thought he was driving. Driving really really low?
Everything was working just fine, he noted, and soon he'd be able to see what was underneath him, why it was so eerily light and, contrary to how everything should work, not burning him alive. Hopefully that'd-
Suddenly, the helicopter started to plummet, cabin automatically pressurizing as the screen in front of him flashed the air pressure - 0 atm. No atmosphere whatsoever. The rotor blades whipped up and started to retract into the cabin, protecting them from the velocity that the system knew was coming. Fred simply stared at it, not having known how complicated the government-issued helicopter truly was. Glancing out the window, he could hardly tell he was descending, despite what the screen displayed. The automatic restabilization system (ARS) was working splendid, shifting weight adequately to keep the helicopter from tipping in either direction and wobbling uncomfortably, giving Fred plenty of time to wonder why in the world he was falling at all and why there was no atmosphere at such a depth, where there should be additional atmosphere, not none. What in the world- wait, I am in the world... how quaint.
The helicopter continued to descend, the depth sensors starting to malfunction from a lack of data about how far down ground would be, eventually settling on a flashing red "DSS malfunction", which was splendid for his anxiety. On the other hand, he still had a bar of data, somehow, even though his phone was getting hard to read from the lack of oxygen. Apparently, the government had planned for too much, not too little, oxygen, but Fred knew his best chance of survival was to hold his breath and not panic. I still haven't gotten a return email yet...
Another orange light started to flash, then a yellow one, but Fred couldn't read them, much less react, in his foggy state. He knew full well what hypoxia felt like, having been trained thoroughly, and it was very much coming upon him (although it was helping with anxiety), and knowing, if blearily, that he couldn't do anything, he closed his eyes and drifted pleasantly into unconsciousness.