The Bridge

by Simon Winstanley

  When no-one spoke, she continued.

  “The whole point of our mission was to prove that life was possible on the surface. Kohlner’s literally banking on our failure. Personally, I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.”

  Marcus admired his granddaughter’s rebellious edge. Again, she reminded him so much of Sabine.

  “What have you got in mind?”

  [UPDATE]

  TransFieldMessageReceived

  MultiFileContainer[Eri_1]

  DistributeFiles[#ID#@variableClass]

  …

  ShuttleBergstromCondition[Pass]

  UpdateVariableSet[Directive2112]

  CompletionStatus[Fail]

  …

  ContinueProcess

  …

  LIGHT

  Rubbing at her face in the vague hope it might restore a little alertness, Loren Ballard sat down in front of her screen.

  “OK, Fai,” she pushed aside some of her desk clutter, “I’m here now.”

  “My apologies for disturbing your sleep cycle,” Fai replied though the nearest speaker, “But I am receiving a coherent data stream from the Eri network relay station.”

  Loren found herself sitting bolt upright.

  “Do the others know?”

  “Yes, the message is addressed to all output screens aboard the Eridanus.”

  She rubbed at her eyes again.

  “Simultaneously?”

  “Yes.”

  She walked to the back door of her house.

  “Every single screen?”

  “Yes.”

  A chilling thought crossed her mind and she stepped outside.

  As expected, the axial sun was in night mode. The interior of the Eridanus was therefore a speckled sea of light beacons.

  “Fai,” she called back over her shoulder, “Does that also include the Global Broadcast System?”

  “Yes,” Fai replied, “Full message received. Beginning playback now.”

  Every beacon extinguished itself, leaving the Eridanus in total darkness. Her heart skipped a beat.

  Light suddenly filled the night sky.

  At equally-spaced intervals around the cylinder’s interior were three massive rectangles of light, each of which were several kilometres wide.

  Quickly looking down at the ground, she saw it was brightly illuminated too; to someone on the far side of the cylinder, she would also be standing within a rectangle of light. No matter where you were, she thought, nobody would be able to miss this. The brightness subsided and displayed a moving video.

  “Yes!” she punched at the air.

  “Hello from Eri…” Raven addressed the world using every public address system, “We made it.”

  Loren couldn’t help smiling at the people she could see in the background.

  “Everyone should be seeing this at the same time,” Raven continued, “We’re sure there’ll be some people who’ll doubt this is real, so we’re sending another thirty-two recube files that are recording this same thing from different perspectives. Hopefully it will help.”

  “So smart,” Loren smiled.

  “We didn’t use our Field generator to wait until your arrival,” Raven continued, “we chose to start living our lives.”

  The video now showed a small, populated village with various huts and an irrigation system that could only have been the work of Ivan Meznic.

  “Along with this transmission,” Raven was now standing next to a turning waterwheel, “you’ll find our logs from the past three and a half years. Our progress, our setbacks. Our children.”

  Loren quickly glanced inside the house and saw that the same image was playing on her screen. This message truly was going out everywhere.

  “Some of you will want to join us, some of you won’t. But now you have the freedom to make a decision based on facts not rumour. If you do want to join us, there is something you should know…”

  Raven held up a drill-bit protruding from a dense clump of clockwork gears.

  “… Several of these devices were used in an attempt to sabotage the Bergstrom’s mission. It wasn’t Fai’s fault. As I’ve learnt at great personal expense, there were certain things that Fai didn’t know to look for. The information embedded in this message will help her identify those threats more easily, but you should be vigilant and trust in yourselves.”

  Against a backdrop of a field of crops, Raven now stood next to Lana and Ivan. Both of them looked less pale than Loren had ever seen them. The shot weaved slightly from side to side as Raven continued to speak.

  “It’s hard work here, but probably the most rewarding thing you’ll ever do with your life. Depending on your perspective, we’ll see you in a few days.”

  The camera moved away and then, a little unexpectedly, it moved up into the air. As the shot widened to take in the sunlit coast, Loren saw something in the sea; something equally as unexpected. Again she found herself grinning at the sheer spectacle.

  PERSPECTIVE

  Megan proudly watched Raven speaking confidently into the hovering camera drone. She was talking about the clockwork device in her hand, but hadn’t mentioned that it had been attached to one the main compartment’s oxygen tanks.

  Kohlner had almost succeeded in killing everyone aboard the Bergstrom. Had it not been for Abel Meyer’s sacrifice, none of them would have survived. Despite this, Kohlner’s name hadn’t been used once in the main message.

  When the content of the transmission had originally been discussed, Raven had been adamant. By not even mentioning him, the subtext would be crystal clear: he was completely irrelevant, and none of his efforts had made the slightest difference to the future of the human race.

  The resulting message to the Eridanus was one that inspired hope.

  Megan saw the drone begin to hover back slightly.

  “Depending on your perspective,” Raven was looking into the lens, “we’ll see you in a few days.”

  The drone rose into the air and turned toward the sea. Megan had to admit, over the years Dixon had shown that he had an eye for this sort of thing.

  As Lana and Ivan departed for the radio hut, Megan made her way over to Raven and pointed up at the drone.

  “You know our massive submarine’s gonna be in the shot, right?’

  “Dad’s idea,” she smiled, “He says it’ll make them curious.”

  “No shit,” Megan laughed, “Who doesn’t like a bit of mystery?”

  Ivan probably had a point, she thought. On Earth, simple curiosity had motivated people to explore land and sea. The ships that would come here would just be a different variety.

  When she considered their small town, she knew it wasn’t paradise; people generally got along well but of course there were disagreements. She found herself thinking about how any new arrivals might alter things again.

  “Raven,” she said, “There’s gonna be a real mix of people coming here. We’re probably not gonna escape the whole DNA difference thing, you realise?”

  “But everyone coming here will have something in common,” she said, “They’ll be the ones who were willing to adapt.”

  Megan recalled an old adage that Marcus used to say, and wished that he was still here with her. She understood his choice though. It was better for him to be aboard the Britannia before this afternoon’s message beacon launch. If anything needed fixing, he’d be in the right place to do something about it.

  His absence also meant that she could gather signatures and sentiments for his birthday card without him knowing.

  “Here,” Raven held out her hand, “Let me write in Grandpa’s card.”

  “Hey, watch it with the ‘G’ word, OK?” she smirked, “Makes me feel old.”

  She handed Raven the pen and the simple, folded piece of paper. Ironically, being one of the few pieces of paper on the planet, it was probably quite valuable.

  Raven looked at the hand-drawn 50 on the front, then frowned at the dot in the upper right of the zero. Seeing her puzzled ex
pression, Megan thought she should explain an old phrase.

  “People used to say that life begins at forty, or it begins at fifty,” she said, “It’s sort of a ‘New Beginning’ joke.”

  “And he’ll get that?”

  Remembering the circular symbols that had been around them during their first meeting, she smiled.

  “Absolutely.”

  Raven finished writing her contribution then anxiously looked up at the flying camera.

  “I hope this works.”

  Megan saw the drone had already begun to head in the direction of the Britannia, carrying the final piece of their message.

  “We’ll find out in three years.”

  AXIS

  This was just temporary, Devon told himself.

  Little more than a regime change.

  Once the Eridanus had rid itself of those wanting to go to the planet, a new order would rise. His alleged crimes would become irrelevant, and his unique knowledge base would ensure he’d find himself at the centre of its controlling mechanisms.

  He’d been brought here by no less than three people; as if they thought he might try to use brute force to regain his freedom. He’d just bide his time and find a more cerebral way out.

  After delivering him to the detention cell, the two men had departed, leaving him in the company of the one remaining woman. Presumably because she’d spent a significant time aboard the old ISS, Loren Ballard wasn’t suffering the same zero gravity effects that he was.

  Grabbing onto a wall handle, he expelled another acidic mouthful into his vomit bag.

  “Fai,” Loren floated in mid-air, “run the Biomag network check.”

  Small red indicators briefly lit up around the room.

  “Axial detention Biomag network is functional,” the computer’s voice spoke from the room’s only comm panel.

  Now deprived of his personal Biomag, the room itself would protect him. He knew the arrangement wasn’t for his own comfort, it was simply a protocol to prevent any prisoner from messily suicide-fragging themselves.

  “Presumably you know the mistake you’re making?” he challenged Loren.

  She pushed herself freely from one side of the room to the other and stuffed more vomit bags into a wall cabinet.

  “What mistake?”

  “Being the one to personally put me in here,” he said, “I have a long memory.”

  She manoeuvred herself to stop in front of him.

  “We drew straws,” she shrugged.

  “Unlucky.”

  “You kidding?” she laughed, “I won.”

  Devon took a moment to look at his surroundings, then emptied his face of all expression and stared at her.

  “You’ll regret it,” he warned.

  “I’ll be on the beach,” she replied.

  It took him a second to realise she wasn’t talking about the artificial land strip within the cylinder. She would also be leaving the Eridanus.

  “Even if you reach the planet,” he injected the small word of doubt, “There are still people aboard who sympathise with me.”

  “Ah,” she nodded to herself, “That’s supposed to be a threat.”

  “A promise,” he stared.

  “In that case,” she held his gaze, “I promise to watch out for them.”

  “You won’t see them coming!” he raised his voice in temper.

  She actually smiled at his response.

  “There it is,” she pushed herself away, “The animal baring its teeth at the bars of its cage.”

  Devon forced himself to remain calm.

  “I’m not in a cage,” he shook his head, “Humanitarian rules apply. I have the right to food, exercise, entertainment. All of which means I’ll be leaving this room, albeit for short periods, but when that -”

  She was shaking her head at him.

  “Do you really not recognise this place?” she smiled, “Lana told me you’d been here before.”

  His bouts of vomiting on the way up had made it hard to concentrate on his exact surroundings. He’d known he was being taken to a detention cell, but hadn’t paid attention to the specifics.

  “This is Dr. Chen’s old room,” she said, “You won’t need to set foot out of the door.”

  He now began to remember the confined space and realised she was right; Chen’s isolation had been achieved by automating every single aspect of human maintenance. The last time he’d been here was to escort the former CEO from captivity; a feat he’d achieved through the application of emotional pressure.

  “Lana Yakovna couldn’t stop me from freeing Chen through that same door,” he confidently pointed out.

  “That’s… priceless,” she smirked, “Lana let you take him out of here. It had nothing to do with your botched blackmail.”

  Devon felt his train of thought derail.

  “Wow,” she said, “Did it never strike you as odd that Chen helped her daughter so much? The CEO thing was a surprise, sure, but he was constantly helping Raven adapt to her genetics.”

  He’d always pictured Luóxuán Biotech as a well-oiled mechanism, but now he felt that collection of moving pieces jar horribly. Chen’s genetic welfare program had helped so many people that Raven had just been an invisible, tiny gear, turning within the machine.

  He saw Loren set herself spinning against the dark background of the cylinder’s axis.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, “As long as the world turns and the sun shines, you can live your days in complete comfort.”

  At the mention of comfort, he raised his hand to his ear, but of course his wristwatch had been confiscated too. All the while, Loren continued to spin in front of him. Fighting the impulse to retch at the disorientation, he just stared at her, unable to speak.

  “You’ll want for nothing,” she told him as the door began to close, “I’m sure that Fai’s going to keep a very close eye on you.”

  With a click, the door sealed shut.

  IDENTITY

  Sitting in the cockpit of the Broadstone cargo vessel, Chris Powell took a moment to consider the events of the last few hours.

  With only a short window of time to launch the various vessels through the Eridanus’ narrow aperture, the departures had been nothing less than a mass exodus. For a solid hour, the air had been thick with spacecraft as they variously rose from New Houston, waited at the axis level, and stepped through the Field-protected entryway.

  Already, he thought, ships were making their way to the planet. Some were even taking up permanent orbital positions; keeping the doorway to space open for future generations.

  The Broadstone had been the last to leave the Eridanus. In the minutes leading up to their departure, while loading a significant amount of supplies into the spacious cargo bay, Chris and the others had experienced the animated atmosphere generated by the small crowd.

  “Maybe they were sad to see us go,” Chris broke the silence, “Why else would they have been booing?”

  Loren snorted a slight laugh.

  “Cheering would not have been better,” she pointed out, “It’s their kids I feel sorry for.”

  A sigh came from her left.

  “Human beings,” said Lawrence, “being human.”

  Chris shook his head in dismay; an entire history had been summed up in one small sentence.

  A screen signalled that they’d begun their transition to a flightpath that ran parallel to the Eridanus. Soon they’d reach the point where their paths would diverge; the Eridanus continuing to make solar orbits, and the Broadstone heading toward Eri.

  “We might not like it,” Chris thought aloud, “but keeping what’s left of the human race in two places is probably a good idea. You know, eggs in baskets?”

  “Yep,” Loren pushed herself in the direction of the cargo bay, “I guess this way we’ll know where the bad eggs are.”

  Chris smiled but made no comment.

  “Parallel trajectory,” he read from the screen and checked on the upcoming manoeuvring data, “Div
ergence phase on standby.”

  Although Fai had plotted the courses for each departing vessel, they were not under her control. The navigation computer of each ship had been primed with a new coordinate system; one that was relative to Eri. In the same way that the ships had navigated their way from Earth, they would reach the surface of a different planet.

  “What the…?” Loren’s urgent voice reached him.

  He turned to see her staring through a side porthole.

  “What the actual fuck?” her eyes were wide.

  Chris quickly threw himself in the direction of the cargo bay to get to her. Turning to look though the porthole, he felt his heart almost stop.

  Covering the exterior surface of the rocky cylinder were a swarming mass of fabricators. Spider-like in nature and obviously well-adapted to the spinning surface, they crawled between metallic structures that jutted from the curved landscape.

  “Lawrence,” Chris spoke quickly, “Did you know about this?”

  “No,” he looked totally stunned at the sprawl of machinery.

  “Shit, they’re everywhere!” Loren pointed as the cylinder continued its stately rotation.

  Chris saw the closed end of the cylinder coming into view.

  When they’d left Earth, a succession of nuclear detonations behind the Eridanus had been used to slowly force the massive cylinder to move. A circular pusher plate assembly had absorbed the sequential blasts and smoothed the jolts into continuous motion.

  The plate was missing.

  In its place was a metallic framework, similarly covered with slow-moving fabricators.

  “Field activation warning,” the ship’s navigation computer played back an automated announcement.

  Chris instinctively grabbed at the ever-present tag around his neck, and saw the others do the same. As he looked up again, the Field generator activated and he felt the brief, dizzy sensation of time being compressed.

  The Eridanus appeared to suddenly accelerate, then disappeared from view.

  Now wrapped in a temporal Field, the Broadstone was continuing its trajectory towards the planet. In a matter of minutes, they would arrive in orbit around Eri.