by LEMPEREUR
“At last, you remember me!”
“Yes, Emma, and I can’t tell you how relieved I am,” he said with a sincere smile.
Emma took his hands and squeezed them warmly.
“I’m happy too. I haven’t seen you for years.”
“Not since you went away to study in Irignia, unless I’m mistaken.”
“Yes, that’s right!”
“How did you end up here?”
“It was your brother who talked me into it. He was already working on a project for an interstellar voyage. Of course this was before the Exodus program began. At the time we were still carefree and I found the adventure exciting.”
“You always did enjoy a challenge. You were passionate about politics and you were always sure that if you were in leadership you would know what to do to resolve the most disastrous situations. And now you’re a Councilor! How did that happen? Senec didn’t tell me anything about this. I know he’s not exactly talkative, but even so!”
“Well, it’s a little complicated. If he didn’t tell you anything about me, it’s for good reason.”
She paused for a moment and looked away. She seemed to be organizing her thoughts before launching into a detailed explanation of what could be classified information.
“At the end of my studies the Assembly proposed that I put my skills to use on the construction project of this subterranean base. I had thought I would be working in the administration of public affairs but as I told you, Senec convinced me to accept the proposition. A year ago they elected me as Councilor.”
“You’ve done very well. Senec and you were very different, anyway. I’ve always known that. Studying was never difficult for you. In any case, I’m happy for you.”
“That’s kind of you, Victor, but you know, I have some important things to tell you. Can I trust you? What I’m about to say must not leave this room.”
“Of course! I have no intention of betraying a childhood friend – even less my own brother’s friend and colleague. Don’t worry about that – I can keep a secret.”
“Actually, Senec and I don’t have absolute confidence in the Exodus project’s chances of success, for many reasons; primarily scientific, but also political and human. We think the probability of the project failing and wiping out our whole race in one fell swoop, is much too high for us not to have an alternate solution. However, the Council has always refused to go down that track. I think they’re afraid of sowing doubt in people’s minds if they did. If it were publicly known that they are unable to fully guarantee the project’s success, it would probably set off a protest movement, or even a revolt. Then there would be a risk that religious or extremist groups would gain some credibility. They could exploit the panic such an admission would generate and the irrational behavior that would inevitably follow.”
“Aren’t they partially right?”
“Yes, of course, and that would reduce the project’s chance of success even further. You saw as well as I did the workers’ reaction when we told them that the Navigators would not all be ready in time. In the face of death, God only knows what a living being is capable of doing to save stay alive.”
“But I thought they preferred to double their efforts to finish the vessels.”
“No, Victor, they were prepared to make a decision with disastrous consequences! They wanted to carry on, with their heads buried in the sand. That choice is totally irrational, governed by fear loyalty to the group. All possibilities have been assessed by our technicians and statisticians and if that solution was viable, we would have said so.”
“But, what to you and Senec plan to do, then, if your specialists have found no other viable alternative?”
“Well, that’s just it. There may be another one, and we have been working on it for over two years, in utmost secrecy of course, so as not to arouse the Council’s suspicion, but also for the reasons I have just explained. We don’t want to compromise the official project’s chance of success, either. Our project is only a complementary alternative and in any case, it cannot include the whole population. What’s more, it’s not the only alternate solution. As you know, the Council itself has unofficially begun building subterranean bases to house those excluded from the program. These bases are a good enough solution, but they have significant issues and the long term survival of the population involved is far from certain. To tell the truth, apart from the fact that we do not know whether hibernation produces harmful effects on the body in the long term, the main pitfall stems from the fact that both projects are inextricably linked. That means that if the Exodus project fails, nobody will ever come to rescue the population that stayed on Earth. And there is another much more complex problem to take into account.
“Supposing the passengers of the Navigator fleet win their bet… In other words, suppose they find a planet suitable for settlement, in an area not too far from our solar system. Suppose they manage to found a sustainable colony there and rebuild a society that is sufficiently advanced to launch a rescue mission. Suppose hibernation and the living conditions in space don’t alter their fertility to the point of jeopardizing the survival of the species. What would they find when they got back to Earth?”
“You think they wouldn’t manage to find the subterranean bases, or get to them?”
“That’s a possibility too, but beyond all the technical issues, there is one which is much less obvious and yet very real, which the Council refuses to take into consideration. It could take at least hundreds, if not thousands of years to overcome all the technical problems. Who will be in charge by then? Won’t they prefer to convince themselves that it’s too late to rescue the hypothetical survivors back on Earth? I’m not convinced otherwise. Lastly, we have to take evolution into account. The two groups would be worlds apart. One of them would have evolved independently in a new environment and a new society, while the other remained unchanged, inert, and unaware of the passage of time. They’d be worlds apart, you see? They would have lost their bearings and would find reintegration incredibly difficult.”
“Isn’t that better than death?”
“Maybe. But we see things differently.”
“So what do you plan on doing?”
“The Council thinks that Senec is linked to Project XK207. That’s why they’ve put him in solitary confinement. They think they know all the ins and outs of this alternate program, but the reality is that their informers only know the tip of the iceberg and nobody here, apart from you, knows that I’m part of it. You understand why, in revealing this to you, I’m putting a lot more than my own fate in your hands.”
“If you only knew…” murmured Charlie.
But Emma did not seem to hear. He would have liked to tell her all that he knew about the future and the role that he was playing here now, but that would not be sensible. Intelligent, attractive and likeable as she might be, Emma did not exist and Charlie was aware of that. She was only a phantom straight out of the mists of time; the phantom of a young N.H.I that Victor had once known. If she was here with him, talking to him, it was only because her presence could help them – Victor and himself – to gather and assemble essential information stored in his memory, which he could not access yet. The scene he was living out in this reality driven by convergence was, in some way, a dream. Nothing could happen here that did not stem directly from the memories, the imagination and of course, the desires of both of them. But this dream was pleasant and nothing could have persuaded him to break the spell. The desire to do so would have been enough, but he did not want to.
“Why are you giving me this information?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because I trust you.”
It doesn’t matter, thought Charlie. She may not have any particular reason. If she’s giving this information to me, it must only be because I’m looking for it. What role can I play in a story that belongs to the past, apart from observing and analyzing what I am allowed to see? He might as well reassure her about that. It would not cost him any
thing, and he wanted to.
“You’re right,” he said in a reassuring tone. “I’ll do everything I can to help you if I can be useful in any way.”
He knew perfectly well that such an assertion made no sense either but it added to the coherence of the conversation, and therefore to the dream itself. However, he was already aware of beginning to distance himself from the situation and if that did not stop soon he would jeopardize the continuity of the dream. Emma’s face was still clear, but the décor was starting to blur slightly and time seemed to stretch so that he could now pay attention to his internal thoughts without Emma noticing. During the moments when Charlie separated himself off from the conversation, she remained frozen, not speaking, and only began to talk again when he turned his attention back to her and what she was saying. He was a little like a dreamer who wakes up for a few seconds in the middle of a very pleasant dream and must concentrate not to let it escape so he can find it again when he falls back to sleep. He concentrated as hard as he could on Emma’s words. Her voice seemed to be the common thread of the dream. All the rest was merely a construct gravitating around that. Emma was the driving force, the vector that allowed him to access the multiple branches of meaningful information rooted in Victor’s memory. With relief, he felt himself coming back in touch with her. She was talking to him, and in future he would try not to let himself wander too far again.
“We must get Senec out of that cell. The latest news I heard concerning the work’s progress was not very good. They absolutely need Senec. He’s the architect of the XK207 City. Without him they will never manage to complete such a technologically complex project. He is indispensible and the Council members know it.”
“Why are you talking about a city? Isn’t it more of a subterranean base? How could a city resist the impact of an asteroid shower?”
“It’s not strictly speaking a city like Irignia or Sivitz, which both have over 50,000 inhabitants. Actually, we should be talking about an inhabitable subterranean base, but the name “city” was chosen for its psychological effect. We want to recreate a small underground town where around 10,000 people can live – not merely survive – until the effects of the cataclysm have passed.”
“You’re not planning on hibernating?”
“No, Victor! That’s exactly what differentiates our project from that of the subterranean bases developed by the council. We don’t want to hibernate. We want to continue to live and develop, whatever the risk. None of us wants to go to sleep without knowing if – or where – we will wake up again one day.”
“But how is it possible? Where would you find enough food and air to ensure the survival of all those people?”
“The city is being built in a very deep natural cavity, located in the immediate proximity of an enormous underground freshwater lake. This endless source of water will provide drinking water and oxygen, not only for the people, but also for crops and livestock.”
“But what about light and energy sources? How will you produce those?”
“That’s the tricky part. Senec is currently working on the top secret development of a nuclear fission generator, but to do so he must smuggle out plans and parts that can only be found in the space center. It’s a practically eternal source of energy because its fuel is deuterium, an element readily available in sea water and also in polar ice, so we could obtain it without leaving the city. Many pipelines are currently being drilled to supply the reactor.”
“In that case, I suppose the city must be beneath the ocean floor. But how could such an enterprise escape the Council’s notice? It must require large-scale work!”
“The natural cavity that we have chosen to use is located at the South Pole, only 300 meters below the surface of Antarctica. The ice cap covering it in that specific area is more than four kilometers thick. According to Senec’s latest predictions, based on the data he recently managed to extract from the space center’s database, the layer of ice should be sufficiently thick to absorb most of the impact of the asteroid shower.”
“You’re not worried that the shock will set off a huge earthquake that could destroy the cavity? It would seem quite a plausible scenario to me. I certainly don’t pretend to compete with my brother’s expertise, which is far beyond mine on the subject, but it seems to me that such a phenomenon has occurred several times over the course of history, causing significant modifications to the Earth’s crust each time.”
“As I just said, the ice cap, and also the ocean covering the submerged land will act as a giant buffer zone. Of course we can’t be certain of anything, but we hope we are not too far wrong. No solution is 100 per cent foolproof. Ours isn’t, any more than those developed by the Council, but we believe in its chance of success. We will survive, the time it takes to rebuild a society above ground. To begin with, we will rebuild it at the bottom of the ocean if living conditions above ground take too long to improve, but we will do it. We have to. We have to believe in it and keep on believing for hundreds or even thousands of years. How could we survive stuck underground and keep up hope for generations if we were not convinced we made the right choice?
“The question should not even be asked, Victor, and I hope now that you will join us, unless you prefer to try your chance on one of the Exodus project vessels. It’s up to you to make a decision now. I know your brother has made sure you will be guaranteed a place on board the Navigator fleet. He’s a very private man and does not share his feelings, even with me, his childhood friend and closest colleague on this project. Even so, the fact that he allowed you access to reports that compromise the Council leads me to believe that he would like to count you among the future citizens of our city. He has designed and is overseeing the entire construction of this city; a last resort city, which he has decided to call Australopolis because of its geographical location.”
Charlie did not really know how to answer her question about making the right choice, but he also supposed that Vikern had not chosen that option at the time because they had found him millions of years later, hibernating in what seemed more like one of the bases built by the Council than a mythical lost city. Did this city truly exist? Had they succeeded in completing their project? If that were the case, it should be possible to find evidence of it today. It was at that precise moment that he realized deep down inside that he had just laid hands on the secret Victor had sent him to find in the recesses of his memory. He wanted to know what had happened to his brother, and now they had good reason to suppose that Senec was not one of the Exodus candidates, any more than he had accepted the hibernation plan developed by the Council, contrary to what he had told Vikern some time earlier. He was probably dead now.
Emma’s face froze, taking on the form of a white wax mask with a fixed smile. Her pink lips made a striking contrast with the immaculate white of her skin. He recognized her perfectly, as if the mask had been poured directly onto her face. The fine layer of wax followed its contours exactly, emphasizing every detail, even the dimple that always accompanied her smile. The image was a blow to Charlie’s heart. At that moment he knew that he would probably never see her again and the realization was more painful than he could have imagined.
He tried in vain to concentrate but he could not escape the flood of emotions and suddenly began to cry as he never had before. He was drowning, completely overwhelmed by this emotional torrent. Hunched over, he grasped his head in his hands. His body trembled and shuddered with intense spasms. The pain washed over him uncontrollably in endless waves of images and sensations jostling and jumbling around in the complete chaos of his thoughts. It was the paroxysmal surge of cerebral hemispheres whose destinies were intertwined.
Emma’s question had just opened something up in Victor’s memory. It was a crack, or not exactly a crack, but rather a bridge, a meaningful pathway which had suddenly made it possible for memories, which had been buried for millions of years in the recesses of his mind, to emerge. These images and sensations were not all that emerged. They were a
ccompanied by an emotional explosion that neither Victor’s mind nor his own could cope with. The spasms got stronger and soon became convulsions. Thick, white foam oozed from Charlie’s open mouth. His unseeing eyes were wide open. One last spasm convulsed his extremely rigid body then there was nothing. He lay immobile, curled up on the floor; his open eyes staring blankly.
27 FINAL CONVERSATION
All was quiet. Intense fatigue steeped Charlie in a strange torpor. His mind seemed foggy and his vision only allowed a halo of soft, blurred light to filter through. Even so, he felt a sense of well-being, as though he had barely awoken and was ready to sink back into a long, refreshing sleep. It was as if his thoughts were in limbo, and he was simply enjoying this peaceful state without trying to grasp at any sort of reality. He needed rest; a dreamless sleep devoid of stress and apprehension. Even though he could see nothing in the flood of white light; internally he was perfectly conscious of his body and the total relaxation that dominated it. The only slightly unpleasant sensation came from his eyes. They felt scratchy, but not a single tear managed to escape from his tear glands. A tear would certainly have soothed that dry, itchy feeling. Charlie had no idea what could have happened to put him in such a state, incapable of moving or thinking. Only one thing mattered for now: sleep, to sleep as long as he needed to. Nothing else was important.
But try as he might, sleep would not come. Instead, he was still overwhelmed by this ongoing torpor. His thoughts gradually began to flow again. They floated by slowly, without him being able to catch hold of them and follow their course. They were like little dead leaves, carried along by the slow current of a stream. He observed them like objects with no particular content or meaning, and endeavored instead to carefully study their physical appearance: their color, shape, texture and also the way they moved along in the constant flow of the current. It was a hypnotic, contemplative state, completely free of any urgency or feeling of obligation. Charlie let himself be carried along, but could not find the sleep that he so willed to come. However, the silence was gradually broken and a subtle, slightly tangy odor filled the atmosphere. It was the delicate, intoxicating smell of bergamot which he easily identified. Background noises were still muffled and difficult to make out, but he seemed to recognize the clinking of metal on china. He knew it; Victor was here, having a cup of tea nearby, probably sitting on one of the kitchen chairs. He was waiting patiently for him.