Unlight

by Chandra Shekhar

  Soon, Jessica started to develop a feeling of ownership toward the Air dome. She found the hum of machinery and the smell of lubricant oddly soothing. Her greasy stains and callused hands no longer caused her annoyance or pain. Rather, they attested to her growing skill as a mechanic. Machines were wonderful, she felt. Once you learned how they worked, all it took was a squirt of grease or a twist of a wrench to keep them happy. They rewarded your efforts by running smoothly. You didn’t have to make conversation with them. They had no feelings to hurt, and they never hurt yours.

  At the Eco dome, Anna was equally happy. With her mother and grandmother lending a hand, she accomplished a lot in the hour and half she spent there each day. She couldn’t get enough of the trimming and digging and fertilizing and everything else that created the miracle of plant life. After the first few days, traces of soil clung to her fingernails and the musky, peaty smell of the dome that permeated her hair and skin wouldn’t go away even when she showered. She didn’t care about it, nobody else minded, and Elizabeth thought it lent her an earthy charm that complemented her fragile beauty.

  Anna’s only complaint was that the work session went by far too quickly. Since she’d never had a chance to work with so many different plants before, she had much to learn. What was the optimal ambient temperature? Citrus and other temperate-zone trees liked it cool and dry, but avocado, mango, and papaya trees preferred tropical conditions. Was there a climate setting they would all be happy with? Larry had been unable to procure bees, so some of the flowering plants would need to be hand-pollinated. Anna had never done that before and knew it wasn’t easy to do. The persimmon tree was female, according to the label. How to get it to bear fruit? She’d read of a method, but never tried it before. And there were the bioreactors. In theory, the manure from them should make great fertilizer, but in reality one had to take into account so many other factors—manure composition, plant variety, soil chemistry … The soil itself would need to be regularly supplemented with vermicompost made from kitchen waste using earthworms, which might need special care to keep going generation after generation.

  Figuring all these things out was completely up to her now. “As the only green-thumbed person here, you’re in charge,” Larry told her. It was thrilling to enjoy such a responsibility, though sometimes it weighed heavily. To reassure her, Larry pointed out that, at worst, some plants might die, and when this happened she could simply plant new ones. Until the saplings matured, the family would have to fall back on tinned stuff. “It’s a minor nuisance, that’s all,” Larry told her, “so don’t lose any sleep over your plants.”

  The folks at the Health dome had a pleasant time, if not a very productive or eventful one. Elizabeth got a chance to spend time with her daughter, something that had been hard to do after the granddaughters were born. Elizabeth and Nicole had always been on good terms but had drifted apart over the years. It came as a shock to the older woman to realize how much of a stranger her daughter had become. Nicole’s natural reserve had only deepened after her father’s death. She had opened up a bit when Philip came into her life—until his subsequent desertion shut her down even further. She worked even harder at the hospital. She spent no more time at home than necessary, leaving her mother to raise her daughters. There were never any tears or emotional outbursts; Nicole wasn’t one to wear her emotions on her sleeve. Gradually, Elizabeth had begun to believe that her daughter’s emotional wounds had healed. Her belief was only reinforced when Nicole fell in love with Larry and seemed to find a new zest for life.

  Now, however, their situation was altered. Torn from her hospital work, and in the Health dome, temporarily away from the company of Larry and the girls, Nicole couldn’t help revealing her feelings. She remained brisk and matter-of-fact; there wasn’t, and would never be, anything touchy-feely about her. Nevertheless, Elizabeth discerned a vulnerable side under her daughter’s competent, efficient persona. Evidently the grief of her father’s death and the pain of her husband’s abandonment still remained; Larry’s love had soothed but not healed those wounds. Few could resist Elizabeth’s warm, giving, understanding nature—Anna adored her, Larry respected her, and even Jessica, otherwise dour and prickly, never found fault with her. Nicole alone had resisted Elizabeth’s warmth; now, however, she too came under its benign influence. Gradually, the two women bonded like never before.

  Harmony prevailed in the Food dome as well. Jessica had always found her grandmother’s presence soothing. Now she enjoyed working with her to prepare their daily lunch. After wrestling with huge, greasy, noisy machines in the Air dome, the kitchen tasks she previously despised—chopping onions, scouring pots, hovering over a sizzling pan—relaxed her. Elizabeth too valued their time together, but for a different reason—it gave her a chance to observe her granddaughter and gauge her mental state. She often worried about Jessica and her potent mix of emotional confusion, social awkwardness, and odd sensitivities. In Elizabeth’s experience, most such people eventually outgrew those traits and led normal lives with careers and families, but a small minority grew more dysfunctional with the passage of time. Elizabeth prayed that Jessica would take the happier path. Their sessions together in the Food dome were reassuring. So far, the girl seemed to be adjusting well to her new environment and even enjoying herself a bit.

  It was only at the Geo dome that there was cause for concern. The geothermal well hadn’t been Larry’s first choice but the one he had ended up with after eliminating alternatives. In designing the Shell, Larry knew that a compact, reliable, and practical heat source was key to surviving the Shroud. He had to rule out coal, oil, and gas—they would need too much storage space, consume too much oxygen, and emit too much carbon dioxide. With the sun out of the picture, solar power was out, and since wind is driven by the sun’s heat, that option too was a non-starter. So that left him only nuclear or geothermal as energy options. Some experts he spoke to had recommended nuclear power as a time-tested, safe, and easy-to-install power source. But tailoring existing reactor designs to function within the space, water supply, and other resource limitations of the Shell proved too challenging.

  So that left Larry with only one option—geothermal power. With this decision made, he spent months poring over geological maps until he located several sites that had the qualities he was looking for—a strong source of geothermal heat surrounded by solid bedrock, located in an unpopulated area but not too far from an urban center. The site in the Strzelecki desert wouldn’t have been his first choice but for his chance encounter with Nicole and her family. And now here they were, he and the Millers, their lives dependent on the 2,500 meter–deep well under his feet.

  Things in the Geo dome had gone well so far. All the machinery ran smoothly, and the well seemed to generate enough heat and power for their needs. Larry’s concern was for the future. With nuclear energy—or with fossil fuels, for that matter—you could weigh the fuel and calculate exactly how many joules of heat you could generate. Geothermal’s location deep in the earth’s crust meant that only the roughest estimate could be made. The geologists on his team reckoned that the well would remain hot for 15 to 25 years. Although the time range compared favorably with the expected duration of the Shroud, it’s degree of uncertainty was far too high—what if the well failed in 15 years, but the Shroud persisted for 20?

  There were other questions as well. If the well started cooling off, would it happen gradually or abruptly? How much did it depend on their consumption versus other geological factors? And what impact would the Shroud have on it? How long would the pipes last, and would the heat exchanger buried far below survive the oven-like conditions there? Despite his engineers’ assurance that everything was made of the highest-grade titanium-tungsten alloy designed to withstand far higher temperatures, his concerns remained.

  Anxious as he was, it was always a relief and a delight when Anna came over to join him, pleased and excited over her horticultural explorations. As he familiarized her with the power plant, h
e shared some of his concerns with her, but in a casual way so as not to alarm her. He needn’t have worried. While she was happy to learn how the plant operated and help him with maintenance chores, long-term engineering concerns didn’t interest her—she lived in the moment. Besides, she had too much faith in Larry’s ability to worry about them. If the problem could be solved, he would solve it. If it couldn’t, there wasn’t much use worrying about it, was there?

  Although initially dismayed by her blind faith and naive optimism, Larry soon began to see their value. He could share his concerns with her without any sugarcoating. She listened attentively and even made useful suggestions from her own experience, but in the end didn’t dwell on the potential problems. (For instance, she showed Larry how to keep a metallic surface dry by sandblasting it to create a water-repellent texture similar to that of lotus petals.) Some of her cheery optimism rubbed off on him as well. Though he never stopped worrying, his mood lightened when his assistant was around. He and Anna had always got along famously; now, in this unlikely setting of hissing pipes, humming machinery, and hellish odors, they grew even closer.

  The afternoon classes were a great success as well.

  Larry covered fundamental engineering principles such as electricity, magnetism, and fluid mechanics, as well as practical matters relating to the Shell’s function. Jessica often found minor flaws in the latter, but overall even she was impressed with the thoroughness and rigor that had gone into the design of their shelter. Nicole taught human biology, pleasantly surprised at how it all came back to her. She had a good grasp of principles, and the minor details she had forgotten were easily recalled by a quick search in the medical database on the computer. Her slides were crisp and well organized, and she glided through her material. In school, Larry had never had a biology teacher who could enliven the subject the way Nicole did, and he found her lectures enthralling. Anna taught botany and did it so well that words such as xylem, phloem, and angiosperm were soon part of their everyday conversation.

  Jessica lectured on information science with originality and flair. She interleaved concepts of algorithms, networks, and databases with practical computer-programming exercises. Thanks to her efforts, the rest of them were soon much more at home with the vast amount of computing equipment scattered all over the complex. Elizabeth designed her class in psychology as a series of pair and group exercises. She kept theoretical notions to a minimum, encouraging discussion and interaction. She invented an exercise, “Tickle in a Minute,” in which each member of a pair got sixty seconds to make their partner laugh or giggle without actually touching them. It never failed to lighten the atmosphere and raise morale. Even Jessica had a funny bone, it turned out. She couldn’t resist a certain type of black humor in which the teller wryly admits their naivety or foibles. Larry’s tale of the Chinese desalinator company made her crack up with laughter.

  After class, Elizabeth and Jessica usually went downstairs—one to rest and meditate, the other to read. Nicole and Larry often went to one of their rooms to enjoy some private time together. Anna elected to stay upstairs and listen to music or read a bit. Occasionally, they would all use the two hours between class and dinner to clean the Central dome and the hex underneath. This didn’t have to happen often—being isolated from the world outside, they had very little dust or dirt to worry about.

  Dinner was a relaxed, companionable affair, with everyone pitching in to prepare the food and clean up afterwards. It offered an excellent opportunity to exchange pleasantries and reminisce about old times. The meal was usually done by 8:30 p.m., which gave the family an hour or two at Central before bed. They sat together in the living space and chatted, played games, or watched one of the thousands of films and documentaries in the database.

  By 10:00 p.m. they would be yawning, exhausted from their work, teaching, learning, and chores. With no noise or light to bother them, snuggled tight against the cool air, sleep came easily. Even Anna’s dreams were pleasant.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Meeting

  On the anniversary of their arrival, the family held a thanksgiving celebration at Central. Soft music and subtle scents filled the air. Larry produced a bottle of Dom Perignon and filled everyone’s glass.

  Nicole, looking rather self-conscious, cleared her throat. “Honey.”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m a matter-of-fact person. I don’t speak fancy words. But I’ve been wanting to tell you this—you’re wonderful. You’ve created this marvelous oasis and shared it with us. We can never thank you enough. All we can say is,” she raised her glass, “good health to you, forever my hero and my love.”

  Seeing Larry color, look down, and fidget, Anna told him: “You know, maybe one day you’ll learn to take a compliment without blushing.”

  Larry laughed and then grew serious. “Dear Jessica, Anna, Elizabeth, and Nicole,” he said. “What can I say in response to that most undeserved praise? Here’s good health to you, the Millers, the most wonderful family in the world. Without you, this place wouldn’t exist. Even if it did, it wouldn’t be worth living in.”

  Many hugs and kisses later, the family sat down in a close circle. Everyone sipped their champagne for a few moments, savoring the moment.

  Elizabeth placed her empty glass on the tray and coughed gently. “Larry, can I ask you something?”

  “Anytime and always, my dear.”

  “You’ve done wonders in building this place, but I can’t help wondering—might there be other shelters elsewhere? With other survivors?”

  This question had been at the back of everyone’s mind once the excitement and novelty of the first few days had receded. By tacit agreement, however, they had never articulated it until now. The implications were too overwhelming. What if they were the only humans—perhaps even the only land animals—left on Earth? The question became increasingly pressing as their radio system, perpetually scanning the airwaves, failed to pick up any signal.

  Elizabeth had sensed this, and in her considerate manner had spared Larry the discomfort of raising the issue. Larry’s strength of character was obvious, but Elizabeth had begun to glimpse another side of him—an extreme reluctance to do or say anything that might upset or worry them. An instance of this had been his failure to tell them about the Shell for fear of disappointing them in case it didn’t work out. But even in everyday interactions the tendency manifested itself. A few days before, she had accidentally put salt instead of sugar in his coffee, and he had drunk most of it without complaint. It was only when Nicole took a sip from his cup and spat it out did Elizabeth realize her error.

  The trait wasn’t quite a weakness, maybe just a softness, but nevertheless it meant that he couldn’t always be a strong leader. Although he was both tough and loving, he was incapable of the “tough love” that a leader sometimes has to employ in difficult situations. He was overprotective and overconsiderate; sometimes he needed a little nudge from someone less squeamish.

  Larry glanced at a thermometer that showed the temperature outside the Shell. In their first few days inside the reading had kept dropping, and then stabilized at minus 127 degrees. The Entry hex had highly insulating “spacesuits” that could be worn if the heating failed, but such apparel wouldn’t keep them alive longer than an hour or two outside. Indeed, they would be much worse off than astronauts, whose bodies lose heat only through the slow process of radiation, whereas they would cool off much faster due to the conduction by and convection of air molecules.

  “Can I speak frankly?” Larry said.

  “You have to,” replied Nicole.

  “I think we may be the only people left in Australia.”

  Silence prevailed for a few seconds as the family digested this expected yet unwelcome opinion.

  Anna sighed. “I feared that, but I was hoping, you know …”

  “What makes you so sure?” Jessica asked Larry.

  “If others were building cold shelters in this part of the world, I would’ve heard of
them.”

  “Even if they hid its purpose, like you did?”

  “Even then.”

  “But we do have nuclear shelters, don’t we? Hundreds.”

  Larry shook his head. “Those were designed for impact resistance and radiation shielding, not temperature insulation. And they wouldn’t have an energy source like our geo well. How could their residents deal with this much cold for this long?”

  “You think they’ll all be dead?”

  “I’m afraid so. Long dead.”

  “Ouch,” said Anna, and after a pause: “I was hoping at least some of our leaders and military types would’ve managed to build a real shelter.”

  “They built one in the US.” said Jessica. “In Virginia.”

  “You mean the one in Cheyenne Mountain?” Larry said.

  Jessica nodded. “Wasn’t that a nuclear bunker?”

  “Yes, it was. One of the biggest and best. They probably had a nuclear reactor or two as well. While I was looking for ideas that’s the first place I wanted to check out, but they wouldn’t let me in.”

  “So there might be survivors there?”

  “Possibly. Maybe a large number of them.”

  “How would they decide who to admit?” Nicole asked.

  “I suspect it would be the ones with clout that got in. You know, the President and other political leaders, some military brass, corporate bigwigs, and perhaps a few celebrities as well. Privileged folks.”

  “Bad recipe for long-term survival,” said Jessica.

  “Yes. I’m only guessing here, of course, but I suspect they would have been driven by short-term thinking. They would’ve been better off dumping all the bigwigs and admitting only scientists, engineers, doctors, social workers, and the like.”

  “And taking in a good number of young people as well,” Anna added. “You know, folks who can do real work and are willing to learn.”