Survival Instinct- Forces of Change

by Sandi Gamble

  In the final mural, people are running towards a figure that seems to be of some significance to them who is standing over a plant.

  “Symbol of rebirth?” Jace asked aloud.

  “Makes sense,” I thought, but I no longer trusted my presumptions about symbols and meanings.

  The people in this last mural all seemed to be happy. The simple meaning and message seemed to be that all the nations were going to live together in a world of peace. In the mural, animals are roaming free. There is, in the mural, a curious suggestion that everything was in perfect harmony.

  It depicted a new, brave and safe world. Our world?

  In the pictorial story the murals told, I interpreted a story, not unlike our own story. The final mural spoke to a hopeful and uplifting conclusion to the troubles the people endured – very much as I’d been taught in the Academy. Still, despite the hopeful conclusion to the series of murals, they left me feeling uneasy. Even when they were behind us, they were still present in my mind.

  Walking along the underground terminal, I felt tired and overwhelmed. Even when we’d made our way to the middle of the building and Jason instructed us that it was safe to remove our masks, I couldn’t shake the heaviness of my emotions.

  It was not so long before that we were at the Academy, studying history. Though it was not long ago, it seemed like a lifetime! Rather than being youthful and full of promise, I felt heavy and burdened. I could not have imagined anything more exciting than a mission like the one I found myself on and yet, now that I found myself staring history right in the eye I had the unsettling feeling that we had not been presented with the entire story! It was difficult and upsetting then when I was only studying it, looking at images and reading descriptions of what had happened. But now, staring directly at the reality of those events… it was shocking, unnerving. Confusing.

  There was no way to cope with the destruction, the pain, the agony… and all of it so unnecessary!

  “Come along,” I told myself. “Get a grip of yourself.” I knew I needed to clear my head of these thoughts. I had a task to focus on. I couldn’t allow my performance to be clouded by emotion.

  Emotion, as I’d been taught, is the enemy of accomplishment.

  And yet, here I was, caught up in emotion! I knew that my vital signs were reflecting my emotions. I could feel my pulse pounding and sweat forming under my arms and in the center of my back. Under normal circumstances, I would already have been notified by the medical centre that my stats were no longer within the normal range and that it was necessary for me to adjust my bearing. But here, with only Justin and his EMH device to monitor our well-being, there was less oversight. My vital signs went unmonitored, as did those of the rest of the group. Never before in our lives had we been so untethered to monitoring!

  In order for the EMH device to pick up on changes in our bodies, it needed to be on and operating. But, unless we showed obvious signs of illness or distress, Justin had made it clear by his actions that he had little interest in starting it up. We were not his primary focus. The corpses around us were.

  “We need to pick up the pace,” Tim said. “There is only a short amount of daylight left. We need to make it into the tunnels and at least halfway towards our destination before we can rest.”

  If we were able to reach the ARC by the morning, Leon could try to determine the frequency of the communications device that was being used within the ARC. The plan was that, with that information, he could make contact with whoever was sending out the messages, and then hopefully, Bella would be able to enter into some kind of negotiation with them.

  The operative word being ‘hopefully.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE TRUTH

  We moved quickly through the quiet and dark pathways underneath the airport. The tiles were damp, and our footsteps echoed as we hurried along.

  As we moved, Tim continually referenced his guidance screen, following its instructions as it told us when to turn and when to ignore turn offs as we worked our way through the labyrinthine pathways the below-ground station presented to us. “Here!” Tim called out when we’d finally arrived at a tunnel which, to my eyes looked no different than any of the ones we’d passed before it, though it would allow us to begin our descent toward one of the known entrances to the ARC.

  Despite finding the correct entrance, there were still miles of tunnels ahead of us and less and less time for us to cover the distance before us. But we were all young and strong, just one of the reasons that we had been chosen for this mission. Tim kept increasing the pace until, before we knew it, we were moving forward at an easy jog. Whatever equipment we carried presenting no problem at all. We were, as I’ve noted, young and strong.

  The lighting in the tunnels was dim, casting almost as much shadow as illumination. Still, that there was light at all was the amazing thing. In truth, we were astonished that there was any existing lighting. Despite the years of presumed disuse, I could not help but note that the tunnels were in good repair and extremely clean. Almost as if they’d been used on a regular basis.

  This reality – of an existence of a lighting system and the status of the tunnel – stood in stark contrast from our presumptions based on what we were able to view from above ground. There seemed to have passed a great many years since the closure of the ARCs. But here we have found ourselves in illuminated tunnels, illumination which not only suggested but indicated that there was a working power source.

  I glanced at Jace. Jace glanced at me. We were both astonished by what we were seeing and the obvious statement it was making. There should be no power source save for the ARCs themselves. But here we found ourselves miles – many miles – from our destination and yet there is clearly power being provided to these lights.

  “It makes no sense,” Tim said, clearly as troubled by this obvious – and seeming – contradiction between what we were led to expect and what we were finding.

  I don’t think anyone was troubled by what we’d come upon. Confused, perhaps. We certainly did not take it for evidence of anything being amiss. It was, I think more appropriately, something of an enigma to us, a puzzle that we would undoubtedly be able to solve as we learned more.

  We did not, at that point, consider the existence of power, of well-maintained tunnels, of any of the things we’d seen as evidence of something of concern.

  As we jogged along, I wracked my brain, trying to remember anything in my studies that would give me insight into what I was encountering. But I could come up with nothing. Everything I was seeing was contrary to what had been taught in the Academy and in my classes.

  I did not yet make any connection that would have caused me to doubt the knowledge, expertise or opinions of my instructors.

  I wondered what was going through everyone else’s mind. We were moving through something that was contrary to all we’d been taught to expect. What else had our teaching gotten wrong?

  The first indication of anything that could be considered “troubling” was when we encountered the first of many “viewing devices” established along the tunnels. As we moved forward, small red lights blinked on and off and the head of the device, swiveling on a mount, seemed to follow us as we moved along.

  “Ever feel you’re being watched?” I whispered to Jace.

  He chuckled. “Just… every single step I’m taking.”

  “Yeh, me too,” I agreed.

  The “eyes” on us and the long miles began to wear on me after we had traveled what seemed like hours. So, after we had managed to put many miles beneath our feet, I suggested that we rest for the night.

  “I’d like to get to the ARC as soon as possible,” Tim said, clearly not taking kindly to my suggestion.

  “But we don’t know how much further it is,” I protested. “It could be another mile, it could be another twenty.”

  Bella groaned at the thought of it being another twenty miles. Looking at Tim and then at me, she tossed her pack to the ground and then sat down on
it. “I thought we’d never stop.”

  Justin, for his part, might have been sympathetic to my desire to stop but he was also thinking about the need to make progress. “I think we should go a bit further before stopping,” he advised. “We may not make it to the ARC itself, but the more distance we cover now, the less we have to cover later.”

  “No!” Bella snapped. “I won’t go another step.”

  “Justin, relax,” Jace said. “We will make it in good time. It does us no good to be exhausted. We’ve walked miles and miles. Let’s just rest.”

  Justin might have been willing to argue against Bella. He might even have been willing to push back against both Bella and me. But he clearly was not interested in fighting with Jace. Instead, he rested his pack on the ground and pulled out his EMH device. “Then let’s see what everyone’s vitals are and how everyone’s doing,” he said, the tone in his voice registering his displeasure with the decision.

  Breaking into what quickly resembled a small camp away from the prying eyes of the devices that had followed our every move, we spoke with candor about some of the things we’d seen and experienced.

  “Those murals…” Bella began but simply shook her head. She didn’t seem to need to complete the thought. We were all able to complete it for her. They had filled us with a strange sense of foreboding – and a hint of optimism.

  “How do you think those lights are powered?” I asked.

  Justin, who was concentrating on his equipment and what looked like a small sample of dried skin he’d collected earlier, piped in. “There is clearly an energy source. The question is, are they powered by some solar device that we didn’t note, or is there some other source deeper underground, perhaps a nuclear source?” From what we knew the power in our Arc had been geothermal.

  “I trust Jace and I were not the only ones who noted the cameras,” I said softly.

  I could feel a small tremor run through our group. “I think it’s fair to say we all were aware of them,” Tim said.

  “What do you think they mean?”

  “I think the obvious is the truest answer, we are being watched.”

  “But by who?”

  “Ah, the million dollar question,” Tim replied. “I would imagine that the answer to that question would go a long way toward answering the questions about the ARC that we’ve come to sort out. And, the most likely answer to the question about the power source for the lights as well.”

  We all nodded in agreement. But we were chilled by the thought of who – or what – could be watching and tracking our progress.

  “It is not impossible that the lights and the tracking cameras are simply remains,” Bella suggested. “After all, if they were working then…”

  “Possible,” Tim agreed, seeming anxious not to allow for that kind of reasoning.

  “But not probable?” I asked, taking my lead from the tone of his voice.

  He shrugged. “Assuming effective solar power, these systems could theoretically continue forever.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I just don’t know that our success should be premised on ‘best case scenarios.’”

  There was a murmur of assent. We would always like to have the best possible outcome, however, accomplishing positive outcomes almost always means not presuming them.

  “Natural selection.”

  I heard the words and turned my head toward Justin, who had whispered them seemingly under his breath.

  “What do you mean?” I asked him, immediately realizing that he had given voice to a thought that had yet to take form in my own mind.

  “Positive outcomes. There are no positive or negative outcomes, just the ones that are supposed to occur. Natural selection, Ari,” he said. He looked back toward the path we’d taken to get to where we were, and then he looked ahead. “It’s plain what happened. They released an airborne pathogen and killed everyone.” He shook his head. “Of course we are looking for a carbon pollution, but carbon pollution was not the culprit, not for what we’re seeing here. Carbon pollution would not have resulted in the kind of situation we saw in the airport.”

  “What do you think happened then?”

  He drew a deep breath, as though he wanted to weigh the advisability of putting his thoughts into words. “In 2014 scientists from the University of Wisconsin-Madison created a life-threatening virus that resembled the Spanish flu.”

  “Spanish flu?” I asked, never having heard of it.

  “Yes, that was a flu variant which essentially wiped out about 50 million people in 1918.”

  I felt an ache in the pit of my stomach. “I have never learned about the Spanish flu,” I confessed. “Or, if I did, I didn’t remember it.”

  He nodded. “I know. I wasn’t taught about it either.”

  “Then how do you…?”

  “Research. One thing I did learn how to do at the Academy was to research, to dig deep. There is a great deal of control over research that is done online and can be tracked. But in the basement of the library complex, there are many, many paper volumes.”

  “So that’s why you never had a tan?” I said lightly.

  He smiled ruefully. “One of the reasons,” he conceded.

  Any lightheartedness in our conversation was unsustainable, given the subject matter of our conversation. I tried a quick smile to match his, but it had no joy or mirth. I thought back to our Academy training. “Why would they lie to us,” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Justin mumbled under his breath, “I don’t know if that’s what they did. Maybe they didn’t know. Or they were fearful of the truth. Whatever, it sure seems that they did.”

  Everyone quieted down. Everyone had clearly been listening to our conversation and had taken their own measure of what we’d been saying. This new information would take a long while to reflect upon. Meanwhile, we had an immediate task ahead of us, one that we had to accomplish, regardless of what it uncovered.

  “Let’s just eat and get some sleep,” Tim advised. “No matter what has happened, we need to be ready for whatever we encounter.”

  None of us could argue with his logic, and so we turned our attention to our meal. For myself, I chewed my food with less enthusiasm and joy than any meal I’d ever had. The meal, designed to be nutritious more than tasty, was bland and uninspiring.

  Cate looked at each of us when she’d finished her meal. “It’s a big day for us physically tomorrow, so we should probably try to get some rest,” she said. “I’ll stand watch first, just in case.” She turned to Jace, “You can take the next watch. I’ll wake you in a couple of hours.”

  “Okay,” Jace replied. Then he leaned over to where I’d laid my head on one of our packs. He smiled as reassuringly as he could manage. “Sleep tight won’t you, Ari.” He reached out and rested his hand on my shoulder.

  I smiled back at him. No matter what was going on, if Jace was with me, I felt safer. Of course, knowing that Cate would be standing watch made me feel good too. I couldn’t imagine any physical threat that she couldn’t turn away.

  “Don’t worry. We are going to be okay,” he whispered. There was an urgency in his voice as if he could hear the chattering worry in my head. Maybe he didn’t need to be that insightful. Maybe it was the look in my eyes that told him how worried I was.

  I smiled at Jace then I propped myself up on my elbow and looked over at Justin. “Justin, do we have a cure for the disease?”

  Justin, who was packing his gear into his pack before going to sleep looked over at me. “Yes, Ari. We do. We have for a while. But don’t worry, you won’t need it.”

  “No?”

  He shook his head. “You have a natural immunity,” he stated with certainty. Then his eyes scanned the group. “All of us do. We are the descendants of the previous generations of ARC dwellers. They had immunity. That was how they survived. At the same time, a vaccine was developed to strengthen that immunity. Everyone who entered the ARC was vaccinated to ensure that any known viruses didn’t enter the AR
C community.”

  That was comforting news. I had tried not to think too much about it, but there was no way to avoid the concern about exposure. Knowing that I was immune to the virus that had decimated this community was more than a little relief. “That’s good news,” I said softly.

  He nodded. “Yes, it is. Everyone was vaccinated against all the viruses that were known threats. The immunity in the ARCs was as complete as could be.”

  With that news, I let out a slow, controlled breath and tried to allow my exhaustion to lead the way to sleep. I was certain that as soon as I put my head down and closed my eyes, I would be sound asleep. My body was so exhausted. But, as it turned out, I would not enjoy anything resembling a comforting, deep sleep that night. My body was surely exhausted, but perhaps my worry was too entrenched. Or I was too exhausted. I couldn’t say. Sleep had never been a problem for me in my entire life. I could not recall a single night when I struggled to sleep except, perhaps when I was a small girl, and I had a fever. Other than that, I slept the sleep of the dead, peaceful and complete. Not this night. This night I tossed and turned, moved restlessly from side to side, never settling into anything restful. I was surprised to find I was still awake when Cate’s guard shift was over.

  “Ari,” Jace whispered into my ear, resting his hand on my shoulder. “You need to get some sleep, you really do.”

  I opened my eyes and nodded. I knew he was right. If I didn’t sleep, I would only be ill prepared for whatever we confronted the next day, and none of us could afford to be anything but sharp.

  “What time is it?”

  “Time for my watch,” he said.

  “Really?” I couldn’t believe I’d tossed and turned through one whole watch.

  “Do you want to take something to help you sleep?”