The murmur coming from the crowd suddenly dropped in volume as a large-framed man emerged from behind the detention facility. She saw him tap at a tablet in his hands and at once there came the sound of rotor blades starting up. The sound rapidly rose in pitch and Sabine saw two Peace Keeper drones, each perhaps a metre wide, rise from the roof of the detention facility.
Extending from a blocky central core bristling with aerials and other appendages, were four black limbs. Each limb terminated in a blur of black propeller rotors; twitching in slightly different directions to manoeuvre the drones swiftly to towards the village square.
She’d seen the drone diagrams on Marcus’ laptop but to see and hear them in reality sent a primal chill down her spine. Instinctively she found herself crouching lower, but then she realised she’d stopped turning the miniature dish. As she resumed guiding it into position, the public-address system for the USV gave a low howl and a synthetic voice announced:
“Geraldine Mercer. The charges are as follows.”
Sabine had never met her, but understood from Marcus that Geraldine was Monica’s closest ally within the Warren. She wanted desperately to force the dish into place immediately but knew that she must make the adjustment slowly. She continued to slowly turn the dish and the yellow light began to blink.
“Wilful damage to the USV sealed habitat.”
The drones now hovered to take up positions on either side of the water feature. She stared at the flashing yellow light, willing it to turn green.
“Disabling of a Peace Keeper.”
At this point, each of the drones quickly lowered a rod from their undercarriages and angled them towards Geraldine. The primal thought entered Sabine’s mind that it resembled an insect’s sting.
“Assisting a known enemy with intent to inspire sedition.”
Finally, the LED became flashing green and Sabine stopped the slow turning. The device was now correctly oriented, it just needed time to synchronise.
Sabine heard the rotor noise rise in pitch again and the drones moved closer to Geraldine, the downdraught from their rotors sending waves rippling over the water at her ankles. Geraldine struggled feebly against the restraints that were holding her to the polished metal structure, her eyes implored those around her for help, but none within the crowd moved.
“In accordance with habitat law, these acts are punishable by death. Does the accused have any response?”
Sabine could see that Geraldine’s mouth had been taped shut.
“Verte, verte!” Sabine muttered to herself, willing the light to go a solid green.
Above the incessant droning noise, Sabine could just hear Geraldine’s continued guttural attempts to scream past the tape. The device light changed to a solid green.
“Execute sentence.”
The drones made a minute adjustment to their relative positions and then discharged their electrical current through the route of least resistance.
The lightning-blue tendrils snapped outward and connected with the conductive water and polished metal. Geraldine, already soaking wet from her prolonged binding to the water feature, was caught in the middle. Her arms tensed and her spine suddenly arched back with such force that she cracked her head open against the metal. Red torrents ran through the water, but the current continued to flow, leaping and buzzing through metal and flesh with undiminished vigour.
Sabine turned away from the horrific sight, leaving only the phasing rotor noise and thick sizzling sound to assault her ears. Her eyes fell on the large-framed man with the control tablet. By contrast his eyes seemed fixated on the whole experience. Only when the Peace Keepers shut down a few seconds later did he emerge from his almost trance-like state. He simply checked the tablet and walked away again in the direction of the detention facility entrance.
The smell of chlorine and ozone drifted up to her, as did the hushed sounds of children crying into their parents’ chests. She turned to face the village square and saw the aftermath. In the abstract dusk-like glow was Geraldine Mercer’s lifeless form; the weight of her body hanging from taught arms stretched across the metal surface. The water continued its decorative cascade, arriving in the collecting basin as diluted red swirls around her feet.
The stark sight returned Sabine to her senses.
People were turning away from the village square; she was now very exposed on the roof top. Forcing herself to contain her burning anger, she snatched up Marcus’ device and retreated from the building’s edge. If she didn’t want to suffer the same fate, she would need to avoid being seen on her way back; but with so many people nearby she would just have to wait.
The only reason they could move around at all was because Marcus had discovered from the USV network that the surveillance system was not yet complete. For the time being they could avoid detection by keeping clear of people and the drones’ direct line of sight.
One lighting element at a time, she watched as the artificial sun’s ring of lights began to fade and eventually dusk descended into night. At the centre of the artificial sun was a circle of glass, beyond which was only shadow. Sabine knew that it was only a matter of time before the ‘Eye’ was complete and there would be no more hiding places. Soon cameras would stare down at them, watching everything in their small world.
Sabine turned away from the darkened sun and focussed on the present. She folded in the miniature tripod legs of the device and was about to put it back into her backpack, when she noticed something. In addition to the solid green light next to the label ‘sync’, a second blue LED was pulsing next to the label ‘T-R’.
THE FIRST GUARDIAN
23rd November 7141
Long ago the forefathers had repaired the bridge, allowing the Elders to reach the wooded island beyond. But few of the present Elders ventured that far in; most preferred to live in the gloom away from the persistent glare of The Guardians within the Orb. From where Atka stood, he could see the Orb’s cold, ethereal dome above the small trees.
Steadying himself for his very first crossing, he placed a foot on the bridge and was greeted with a chill that ran down his spine. Were it not for the burning torch in his hand, he feared the chill may have spread throughout his whole body. Few now made the choice to cross the bridge, but for his family it was a rite that he knew he must honour.
He lifted his other foot from the ground and set it on the bridge. His thoughts turned to his mother, who could not witness his journey; her path had ended, leaving him to make the journey alone. He looked up to the scintillating rings that surrounded his world and the night sky beyond. Perhaps she and her ancestors were watching him from the stars.
The Sky-Spirits circled above the Orb, passing through each other and exchanging hues and intensities. If they could see him, then he must not show fear.
Atka began to walk across the long, wood and vine bridge. In the spaces between the wooden branches below his feet, he could see the chasm below and the still waters that ran deep and dark. The bridge now swayed; a gentle rocking that seemed to quieten the village with every footfall.
As he reached the end of the bridge, he could no longer hear the distant village; only the soft sound of the torch flames kept him company. He stepped from the bridge onto the island and saw ahead of him the fractured and ancient stone, bearing the marking ‘ARK IV’.
The rite demanded that he spend the night on the island in the full view of the Orb. To prepare himself for the long vigil ahead he crossed to the ancient stone. He had been told of its appearance but had never seen the inscriptions himself.
The symbols adorning the stone were many and varied; some were etched more sharply, while others were less distinct. Some of the carvings were similar to the circular necklace piece worn by the village’s senior Elder, but others were collections of straight lines.
In front of him now were a group of lines that he recognised. His mother had once shown him those lines by scratching them into the village dirt with a stick - lines that depicted his name
in the old tongue. She had told him that his name meant ‘Guardian Spirit’ - something he hoped the Sky-Spirits would approve of during his first night.
Turning away from the stone, he gathered dry wood from the ground and set it within the ceremonial hearth in front of the Orb. When he had gathered enough, he used his torch to light the fire; a beacon that would alert the Guardians to his attendance.
Atka stood by the fire and extended his hands to its golden warmth. There had been other times when he’d considered undertaking the tradition, but as the stars had unveiled their brightness tonight he’d felt a strong compulsion that this was the right time; as though the Guardians were somehow expecting him.
A light breeze passed over him and he looked up towards the Orb. The sight that greeted him was almost beyond his comprehension.
At the centre of the Orb’s bright surface, a small space had formed, like a hole in white ice. The hole was held open by straight edges and at its centre was a silhouetted figure. A Guardian, standing motionless and surveying the world.
In fear, Atka fell to his knees and bowed in reverence, averting his eyes. Although few still chose to undertake the rite, many had claimed they had seen a Guardian. He recalled their chilling stories of the Guardians’ appearance and their terrifying size, but he had seen something different. Either the tales of others were falsehoods or the Guardian was choosing to appear to him in human form.
He heard his ancestors speak within him, telling him not to be afraid. Slowly he raised his head to see the small opening in the Orb’s surface once more. He knelt transfixed by the sight.
The Guardian within had turned and was very slowly moving away from him towards the Orb’s centre. Perhaps the inside of the Orb was filled with water, he thought, because although the Guardian’s posture was that of someone running, the movement was slow and flowing.
The hole suddenly healed itself and the Guardian vanished. Hardly daring to blink, he stood and stared at the smooth, bright surface of the Orb.
He had seen his first Guardian.
The fire at his side seemed warmer and overhead the Sky-Spirits seemed brighter. He made up his mind in an instant. He would return here every night in the hope of seeing the Guardian again. But he knew he must be patient.
The Guardians within the Orb had been here for generations.
THE MARK IV
DAY01 : 31JUL2017
At the centre of the former Öskjuvatn Lake, sat the Node. Surrounded by sea, shallow waves lapped against the Node’s impenetrable and transparent Field.
Inside the Node, those same waves appeared to vibrate at high frequency atop a three-foot high cross-section of sea water; a perfectly circular, invisible wall surrounding the dry land just beyond the Observation Deck’s massive window.
Roy Carter retrieved a set of digital recording binoculars from the nearby recharging bank and focussed them on a dry area where the Field intersected the ground. He half expected to see damp ground, but of course there was no hint of moisture.
He found he could fairly easily accept that the Field was physically passing through and separating the air, but when he thought of the unseen hemisphere underneath the Node, he still had a difficulty believing that the Field passed through solid matter with equal ease.
The very rock the Node was built on was ageing at a different rate to the rock outside the observation window. The Observation Deck’s digital clock, centred at ground level next to the window, did its best to convey two simultaneous time-frames. Currently it read:
‘0001_02.14.AM : 31JUL2017’
The first part was a reference to the day and internal time, the second part was the date outside the Field. As there were no seasonal variations inside the Node it had been decided to display only the passage of days. For each minute that passed inside, twenty hours passed outside. Because the twenty hours was not a whole day, the resulting effect on the clock was that the external date would not always change in sync with the minute digit; something which only seemed to highlight the oddity of the situation. Here it was possible to have short conversations that apparently lasted days.
“Catch anything, Roy?” came Trevor Pike’s voice.
Roy dropped the binoculars back into the recharging bank and turned to face him.
“Nah, no fish out there,” he smiled, “Can’t sleep either?”
Trevor simply shook his head, “With all this going on out the window?”
For the Node’s occupants it was technically the middle of the night, but without the circadian cues to reinforce day-night cycles, many were having difficulty in sleeping.
“Too bad we can’t control the external lighting, like we did on the Mark 3,” Roy replied in good humour, but then wished he’d thought more carefully before speaking, “Sorry, Mr. Pike, I -”
“It’s alright,” Trevor replied, patting him on the back, “My Steven was just in the wrong place. You did everything you could.”
Roy lapsed into silence and stared out of the window again.
In the September before their unplanned departure, a dedication stone bearing the words ‘THE NODE, MARK IV’ had been placed in full view of the observatory window. During the initial tsunami that had overwhelmed the site, vehicles, ships and even light aircraft had been tossed at the Field. The Field had not wavered, but the stone had suffered multiple impacts and had been severely damaged. Steven Pike’s name had been engraved on the same stone, below an inscription which read:
‘They gave their lives for the good of Mankind’.
Roy had shared several shifts with Steven, watching over the Node’s immediate predecessor, the Mark 3. He remembered how they’d relieved the boredom by tallying whenever Douglas Walker or Anna Bergstrom had appeared at a window. Roy knew that he’d forever question himself; if they hadn’t been playing that trivial game, or if he’d spotted the smoke earlier, would Trevor’s son have lived? The fact was that the hangar fire had only begun after the deactivation of the Mark 3’s Field; something that could only be triggered from within the Mark 3 itself. Even if Roy had spotted the smoke earlier, the likelihood was that things would have turned out the same way. But he would never know for sure.
“Roy,” Trevor seemed to be offering comfort, “if you and Beck hadn’t got Doug Walker out of the hangar, then there would be no Field inversion. We wouldn’t be standing here right now. Think of all the lives you saved. My Steven would’ve been proud of that.”
Roy felt like rebuking the passive consolation, but stopped himself. Trevor had lost his only son and needed to believe that Steven’s death had a meaning; Roy was not about to take that away from him.
“Yes, he would,” Roy replied and gave Trevor a dignified nod.
A low volume but high-pitched whining tone sounded from a few feet away and they turned to face the noise. Several people were checking their Biomags, but only one of them was frozen to the spot.
The woman remained motionless but was clearly in the grip of panic. When the others nearby were sure that their Biomags were functioning, they began taking small steps away from her; everyone aboard was well-versed in the consequences of Biomag or isotope failure, no-one wanted to be nearby when she unanchored from the Field.
Still motionless and with tearful eyes, she implored those around her to help, “Please!”
“OK, stand still!” Trevor hurried over to her, then slowed his approach, “It’s Gail, right?”
The woman nodded, “Please…”
Trevor did his best to keep the situation calm and controlled.
“OK, Gail, remember how the tag ‘n’ tope works. The Biomag and isotope are holding you in a stable Field pocket, as long as you don’t move out of it, I can help,” Trevor attempted to keep her calm. Without losing eye contact with Gail, he motioned towards the side wall of the Observation Deck, “Roy, get me the emergency tag.”
Roy ran to a wall mounted, glass fronted box that stated:
‘Emergency Biomag - Break Glass’.
Even as he appro
ached it, Roy could clearly see that the emergency Biomag had not been put in place. In the rush to prepare the Node for their swift departure, it was yet another item that had not been deemed a priority.
Roy swore under his breath and ran back to Trevor, “No go.”
Trevor noticeably winced at the news, but still didn’t break eye contact with Gail, “Don’t move, we can still fix this!”
The tone from Gail’s Biomag dropped in pitch and her eyes widened in terror; her mouth was still pleading but no sound emerged. The others nearby continued to shuffle further away.
“Wait, wait!” Roy shouted to Trevor “Constructive interference?”
Roy’s suggestion sparked an immediate response in Trevor.
“Yes! I should’ve…” he began, but then raised his voice, “OK, everyone listen up!”
The low-level mumblings nearby ceased.
“I need you two,” Trevor pointed to the people to his right, then addressed those immediately to his left, “and you three, to very slowly walk closer to Gail and me.”
Gail’s Biomag dropped in pitch again.
“Now!” he shouted, seeing that they’d hardly moved.
As they approached, he directed them into formation around Gail. By the time they were in position, a loose hexagon of people surrounded her, including Trevor himself.
“OK, on three, we all take one step inward toward Gail, understand?” Trevor quickly looked at each of them, “Roy, get me the power pack from a DRB.”
Roy dashed back to the recharging bank and began unclipping the battery compartment of one of the digital recording binoculars.
“One, Two. Three!”
As one, they stepped into a close formation around Gail.
The Biomag’s tone dropped again as the power continued to dwindle, prompting everyone to recoil slightly.
“Everyone, just stay calm and stay close!” Trevor called out, “We’re here in case the power fails. Gail’s caught in the overlap of all our Biomags. As long as we stick together, she’s safe. Roy, where’s that power pack?”
Boundary (Field Book 3) Page 9