The Bridge

by Simon Winstanley

  Toby made his way east, following the curvature of the landscape. Ahead he could see the reflective glazed biome and the small forest some way to the right. If the stories he’d heard were true, then some of those trees were already over sixty years old.

  He could have stayed back on Earth, but he knew things were only going to get worse. He’d always possessed a good work ethic; to succeed, he knew that you needed to go where the work was. The problem was that each passing month had seemed to bring less and less opportunity. When the chance to get off Earth’s dying ball of rock had come along, he’d grabbed it with both hands.

  Luck of the draw had ruled out the Vega or Andromeda vessels so, having beaten the only people in his way, he’d found himself aboard the Eridanus.

  This was still a young world; everywhere he looked, there were fresh opportunities for those who were willing to take advantage. Where hard currency didn’t exist, other forms of trade always surfaced. His Earth experience of working within the arenas of gambling and vice, had put him in great stead. Eventually, tighter Eridanus regulations would make his work impossible. The trick was to profit from it as fast as possible, then cash in before it all collapsed.

  Although he didn’t carry one of Luóxuán’s double-helix branded business cards, a significant portion of his work came through their back-channels: the work that nobody wanted to do, but needed handling all the same.

  Generally, those with a dependency on Luóxuán Biotech pharmaceuticals were the most straightforward to handle. But in his line of work there were always exceptions.

  He rubbed at his sore neck.

  It had taken him a while to find her again because he hadn’t wanted to use any method that Fai might be able to detect. This had meant sweeping manually for a Biomag ID trace. He’d lost her briefly when she’d neared the biome but, as she’d moved further south, he’d got a lock.

  He put the tracer back in his pocket and moved in the direction of the forest. As he made his way between the tree trunks, he retrieved his short stun-baton. Guns were banned within the Eridanus; no sane person wanted to jeopardise the technological systems that were keeping them alive, but the combination of stun-baton and knife were just as effective.

  Last time he’d met Ebony, his mistake had been to react with the knife first. He’d managed to deliver a satisfyingly bloody slash to her leg, but he hadn’t been prepared for the throat punch that had floored him.

  He tucked his Biomag inside his jacket where it couldn’t be easily pulled. If things got violent again, he didn’t want to risk getting Field-fragged. Gripping the fully-charged baton in one hand and his knife in the other, he emerged from the tree line.

  She was standing in the clearing, her left leg bleeding profusely. She was talking into the bulky sling around her neck, rocking it from side to side. In a way, he wished he didn’t have to deal with the kid, but a clear conscience wasn’t part of the job.

  Hearing his approach, she looked up and froze. Like a wounded animal caught in car headlights, he thought.

  “Like I was saying before,” he brandished the baton, “I don’t know, or care, why you need ’em. But you can’t just take inhibitors without paying what’s due.”

  She appeared to wince at the pain in her leg.

  “Fuck Helix,” she spoke through gritted teeth, “They’re the ones who’re gonna get what’s due.”

  “No,” he said, “they’re not. It’s just supply and demand. You filthy gene-freaks need ’em.”

  “Things are gonna change,” she narrowed her eyes.

  “Not in your lifetime,” he adjusted his grip on the knife and glanced at the bundle in her arms.

  She stood up straight and placed a protective arm over the baby sling.

  “Touch her and you die,” she whispered.

  Almost in pity, he shook his head.

  “You’re not in control here,” he flipped the safety cap off the stun-baton and gripped the knife tightly, “You’ll both die when I say so.”

  She looked up at the surrounding trees. In the dim light from above, he could see she was smiling through tears.

  “No,” she protected the sling, “We die free.”

  As he levelled the baton at her, she raised her Biomag with her free hand. He suddenly realised that it wasn’t attached to a chain.

  She threw the Biomag away from her and, with a screaming roar, she ran at him.

  He started to back away, knowing what would come next. Before she’d gone three strides, the Field’s ever-present temporal forces tore her apart. As her body disintegrated before him, he was hit by a wall of visceral, bloody biomatter that knocked him to the ground.

  Between bouts of vomiting he scraped at his face, desperate to clear the blood that kept trickling into his eyes. Still retching and wiping at his mouth, he sat up and risked looking round at the clearing. The area was a bloodbath; neither she nor her kid could have survived.

  He swore under his breath at his bloodstained clothes, but then he saw the positive side. He wouldn’t need to risk gathering photographic evidence of job completion; the Biomag incident would soon become very public news. Given the secluded location, the scene would just look like a tragic suicide.

  Turning his jacket inside out, he kept to the shadows and left the area as fast as he could.

  •

  Without the daylight glare to obscure the view, Lana could see the distant ISS attached to the central axis of the Eridanus. It was possible to make out its characteristic end ring, but work had already begun to disassemble the three outer modules. Little by little, the life she’d known was being transformed.

  She had once witnessed the destruction of Earth’s moon and had assumed that death would follow. Now she stood inside the remnants of that same moon; a hollow, spinning cylinder containing a thriving ecosystem and a population bound for Epsilon Eridani.

  Looking beyond the central axis, through the cylinder’s circular opening, she could see the black disk of space.

  The Chronomagnetic Field technology that had once surrounded the ISS had been adapted to envelop the whole of the Eridanus. In just over seventeen years, they would hopefully arrive at a new solar system. By that time, outside the Field, two million years would have passed.

  Lana knew that if the new sun possessed no habitable planets, their long journey would be forced to continue. As one of her more recent acquaintances had remarked ‘Always forwards, never back’.

  She heard a soft tone in her earpiece.

  “Go ahead, Fai,” she turned away from the central axis.

  “Lana, a primary condition has been met that enables me to deliver a message to you. However, it does not come from one of your permitted contacts.”

  In Lana’s command position she regularly received unwanted messages, so Fai usually filtered the worst of them. Something must be different about this particular message, she thought.

  “OK, who is it from?”

  “Ebony Dubois, daughter of Sabine Dubois, one of the Iceland anomaly settlers.”

  Lana knew the name and the archived recordings very well.

  “Blyad!” she swore, “Why did you not tell me she was aboard?”

  “It is my understanding that, prior to today, she used an alternate surname.”

  “OK,” she frowned, “play the message.”

  “Unable to comply.”

  “Explain.”

  “A secondary condition of the message is that it must be received within the southern aviary biome.”

  She knew the location was only a few minutes’ walk away so, her interest piqued, she turned and headed south.

  On the short journey, she wondered why Ebony hadn’t made contact before now. Perhaps using a different surname had granted her anonymity. She may not have wanted the sort of attention that came from being the daughter of a society-founding figure. Lana guessed she’d find out soon enough.

  She turned off the main street and walked up the path to the aviary. This late in the evening, its angled
glazing seemed to sparkle with stars; reflections of the light beacons on the other side of their small world.

  “OK, Fai, I’m here,” she approached the doors and heard the lock click open.

  She knew it wasn’t normal procedure to lock the biome. There must be more to the situation than Fai had told her.

  As she walked into the main space, surrounded by bird enclosures, the doors locked again behind her. Fai’s voice came from her earpiece.

  “Beginning playback.”

  Lana walked beyond an information panel and allowed her eyes to adjust to the reddish glow that surrounded her.

  “Lana,” Ebony’s hurried voice came from a speaker within the panel, “I don’t have much time, so please listen! I don’t know if you ever met my mother, but I’m hoping you’ve at least heard of her… her name was Sabine Dubois…”

  Lana found herself nodding as Ebony’s rapid voice continued.

  “… When we were at the equator, we met Mike Sanders. He told us about the FLC poker games and… and your Ice Queen nickname, but he also told us that he’d trust you with his life…”

  Lana closed her eyes at the mention of her old friend.

  “Lana,” Ebony’s voice sounded urgent, “I need to trust you… with the life of my daughter. Please keep her safe, don’t tell people where she came from… I… I just don’t want her to suffer like me.”

  Lana could now hear shushing noises, it seemed that Ebony had been pacifying her baby during the recording.

  “Her name is Raven,” Ebony’s voice trembled, “I’ve left her here in the aviary.”

  The reason for Fai’s message playback location suddenly became clear. Lana quickly started searching for the baby.

  “I’ve left a stash of gene inhibitors,” Ebony continued, “please keep giving them to her… maybe you can find a way to get her some more…”

  Lana pressed at her earpiece.

  “Fai,” she spoke rapidly, “Locate Ebony Dubois, now!”

  “Unable to comply. The delivery of this message was contingent upon a primary condition being met.”

  “What condition?” she continued searching the space.

  “Her death.”

  Lana froze.

  “Resuming playback.”

  Ebony’s trembling voice echoed out.

  “Just… let her be free…”

  The aviary fell silent.

  In the red glow of a fixed Biomag, Lana now saw a small blanket-wrapped bundle.

  She had no recollection of her actions, but it seemed that she’d acted automatically. She found herself holding the baby close to her own Biomag.

  The quiet moment caught her off guard.

  Lana was unable to have children of her own; a choice she’d been forced to take years ago, before Archive had sent her to the Floyd Lunar Complex.

  Before her now, vulnerable and motherless, was an innocent life; an infant who’d been brought into this world and delivered to Lana’s arms.

  Almost as though lines of magnetism were stretching between her and the child, she felt an overwhelming and powerful instinct to protect her.

  She drew the child in closer and heard something metallic shift within the blanket. Moving with care, she reached between the folds and saw a silver chain. She pulled it free and saw that it held a large pendant. Turning it over in her hand, she saw there was an engraving on the back:

  ‘Don’t Fear The Falls’.

  [FAI.SYS]

  NewDataAvailable

  MoveID#1891[Smith.E:Dubois.E]

  RescanSys

  …

  AscendantFound[SabineDubois]

  DataPointRef[BlackboxArchive]

  UpdateRelationalDataset

  …

  BiomagID#1891[Fail]

  LifeFunctionID#1891[Fail]

  SendMessage[Yakovna.L]

  DeleteID#1891

  …

  AssignBiomagID#2048[Meznic.R]

  AssignAdminSet[Yakovna.L,Meznic.I]

  UpdateRelationalDataset

  …

  AgeConditionID#2048[Pass]

  SetIndependent[Meznic.R]

  …

  SEVENTEEN

  Ivan Meznic turned back to face the video camera.

  “Seventeen years ago, the Eridanus was equipped to begin its journey,” he explained, “but it wasn’t designed to slow itself down.”

  On the monitor to his left, he saw the interviewer adopt a slightly quizzical expression.

  “Hmm, perhaps you can explain what that means for our viewers.”

  He really didn’t care for the artificiality of it all; the need to turn the Eridanus’ arrival sequence into trivial media. But the more normal everything sounded, the more easily people would be able to accept the facts.

  “Absolutely,” he smiled, “If it’s helpful, Trudy, I can also talk through your special set of graphics.”

  “That would be wonderful,” she smiled.

  The interviewer’s feed was replaced by an animated graphic. At least he was no longer in vision, he thought, and took a moment to scratch his beard.

  The screen showed the Eridanus cylinder in forced perspective, making the vessel look twice as long as it actually was. In the background, a tiny Earth swung out of view as the graphic switched perspective to inspect the closed end of the cylinder. On cue, a bright lens-flared explosion sparkled across the brassy-looking metallic pusher plate that covered the circular end.

  “OK,” he ignored the modelling inaccuracies and began narrating the scene, “When we left Earth, our propulsion was nuclear. The detonations behind us propelled us forward but, once we were underway, we achieved a constant speed.”

  He knew the term should have been ‘velocity’ but he’d been asked to keep things simple. Within the animation, a semi-opaque sphere wiped on, enveloping the Eridanus.

  “At that point we engaged the Chronomagnetic Field generator that runs through the centre of our cylinder.”

  “Which is inside the beam of sunshine above people’s heads, right?” Trudy cheerfully spoke over the images.

  The simplification made him cringe, “That’s right, Trudy.”

  “Now, Ivan, the viewers are seeing points of light zooming along the outside of the Eridanus. Are we travelling faster than light?”

  He couldn’t be sure if she genuinely didn’t know the answer, or if this was a cue for him to explain why the special effects guy had thrown his entire arsenal of filters at the screen.

  “Ha,” he half laughed, “It’s a common misconception. In relative terms, we’re travelling quite slowly. The Chronomagnetic Field is slowing down time within the Eridanus. Outside, the universe is still doing its own thing. For us, it just seems that the universe has been put on fast forward.”

  “Ha ha,” she cut in as the light streaks diminished, “So talk us through what’s happening now.”

  The perspective within the animation shifted to become a plan view of their cylinder, now a simple rectangle. Another zoom-out placed it within a solar system diagram; a bright red dot surrounded by a few concentric circles. Ivan knew the comparative scales were completely ridiculous, but it would help to explain the concept.

  “So, our target planet is Eri,” the graphic highlighted a dot on one of the concentric circles, “but we need to assess it first and make sure that it will support life.”

  “So I know many viewers right now will be asking the question why we don’t just go straight to Eri?”

  “Well, Trudy,” he said, “the simple answer is that if we slow ourselves down by going into orbit around the planet, we won’t be able to get that speed back again if we need to travel on.”

  “You mean in the extremely unlikely event that Eri isn’t what we’re hoping for?”

  He understood why she’d immediately acted to downplay any negative possibilities.

  “Indeed,” he said, “it’s more just to confirm what we already know.”

  Three lines drew themselves ahead of the rectangle on the diagram.
One traced a broad arc around the red dot, while two more raced ahead and began looping around the planet dot.

  “The Eridanus,” Ivan narrated, “will continue at its current speed, going on a long loop around the sun.”

  “And the other two lines?”

  “We’re sending two probes to gain more in-depth planetary data,” he looked at the diagram that was now focused on the planet, “They’ll gather information over the course of seven years and relay it back to us here.”

  “Seven years,” Trudy’s voice sounded unsurprised, “Why so long?”

  “It’s about one solar orbit,” he said, “I mean that’s how long it takes Eri to go around Epsilon Eridani -”

  “That’s our new sun, right?” Trudy diligently checked for her viewers.

  “Yes,” he managed to suppress a sigh, “During those seven years we want to study seasonal variations. Fortunately, we won’t have to wait that long.”

  “Because of the magic Field surrounding us?”

  He almost swore.

  “The Chronomagnetic Field will be readjusted,” he watched the animation accelerate, “The seven years will pass for us in seven days.”

  The graphic now displayed a three-dimensional ball textured with hazy, long-distance photography of the planet. Two rockets were orbiting the sphere, while pseudo-scientific checkboxes were being ticked off.

  In reality he knew that the rockets would actually be a pair of fabricators. Tasked with analysing the surface, they would construct a basic satellite network around the planet and take detailed measurements. Given the simplification of the graphic though, he knew it was probably a discussion for another time.

  “Now,” Trudy’s voice continued, “the probes that we’ll be launching in a few minutes’ time, are still in zero-gee up at the hole end, right?”

  “Yes, in the same place that the ISS used to be.”

  “So,” she gave a slight laugh, “for those of us who were too young to remember the ISS Departure Day celebrations, how does anything leave the Eridanus without our air going with it?”

  Ivan recalled Departure Day very clearly. The reconfigured ISS, carrying the critically injured Miles Benton and a Fai duplicate, had left through the cylinder’s aperture. When he considered the population of the Eridanus, many of them would only have been children at the time. An operational recap was probably worthwhile.