“Wait, what?!” Lucy had apparently realised something, “I’ll try overriding the safeties!”
The walkway in front of them groaned as the seawater continued to drain through the mesh work. He could see that the water level in the tunnel was already dropping.
“Tris, I’ve closed the lower airlock from here,” came Lucy’s voice, “did it work?”
Marcus could see that it obviously hadn’t, but Tristan didn’t respond immediately. Only after a few seconds did he reply.
“Yep. Great work, Lucy. See you soon,” he clicked off his handset.
“Why the fuck d’you tell her that?!” Marcus yelled.
“Because there’s nothing she can do about it!” he starred at Marcus, “It’s down to us now.”
“It’s what?” Marcus starred back.
“When the pod reaches the top,” Tristan spoke very quickly, “the surface hatch won’t open if this door down here is still open… it’s to protect the USV against flood. We need to get that door locked, before your friends reach the top. Otherwise they can’t unload, and the pod can’t come back.”
“How can we lock it?” Izzy pointed in frustration at the water pouring through the wrecked walkway, “We can’t even reach the door!”
Marcus thought fast.
“Izzy, was there any rope in the second office back there?” he asked her, “Or cables? Anything we could lash together?”
“It was too dark too see anything, I -”
“What about inside?” Nathan raised his voice and appeared to address Tristan.
“What?” Izzy was frowning.
“Will that door lock from inside the airlock?” Nathan replied impatiently.
“There’s a manual handle, but it would mean -” Tristan began, but Nathan cut him off.
“Marcus, you know I’ve gotta protect the twelve ‘Substandards’, right?” he turned his back on Izzy and lowered his voice, “I don’t have a choice here. You know I have to protect them all.”
Marcus suddenly realised that Nathan had turned his back on Izzy so that she couldn’t read his facial expressions.
“Now wait a sec-”
“Do me a favour?” Nathan interrupted with a broad smile, “Rule Britannia.”
For a split second, Marcus couldn’t understand why Nathan was using a phrase from their very first meeting. However, the split second was all that Nathan needed.
Turning on the spot, Nathan ran down the slippery walkway and jumped for the open airlock. With a wrenching screech, the walkway underneath him collapsed into the void just as his fingers made contact with the airlock’s lowest edge.
Marcus saw him frantically struggling to maintain his grip but one hand gave way, leaving him dangling by one arm. There was a splashing, metallic crunch from somewhere below as the walkway and seawater presumably reached the USV floor. Marcus and the others could only watch in horror; with the walkway gone, Nathan was now beyond their reach.
“Nathan!” he yelled.
As Nathan’s legs continued to flail against the wet rock, he swung up his arm and this time found a better grip. Marcus found himself involuntarily tensing his hands and forearms; as if he could assist him by an act of will.
With an audible growl of effort, Nathan succeeded in pulling himself level with the airlock and then hauled himself inside. Despite the ongoing stress of the situation, Marcus exhaled in relief.
Nathan got to his feet and, leaning out of the airlock, extended one arm to grab the handle on the open door. Very slowly he began to pull the door closed.
ÖSKJUVATN LAKE
21st December 2112
Danny watched in awe as the hovering craft continued its descent towards the Icelandic terrain. Landing struts appeared to unfold from beneath the craft and as the jet-like noise dropped in pitch, it settled into position on the far side of the moat. The noise swiftly wound down, leaving only a faint echo that dissipated over Öskjuvatn Lake. A cheer went up from everyone on the island, including Danny himself.
The day before, he and several others had been exiled from the Node, leaving them stranded on the small island with only basic shelter and supplies. They had begun threading ropes around the rusted remains of the former bridge, the hope being to reinstate a crossing to the far shore. Progress had been painstakingly slow but when night had drawn in, the group’s priority had shifted to seeking warmth and shelter instead.
Those inside the Node had presumably witnessed all of this, but from their perspective the events would have taken mere seconds to unfold. The exiles’ defiant statement ‘Crescat Kate fortior’, carved into the Mark IV dedication stone, had apparently caused someone inside the Node to panic. The Observation Deck’s window had been switched opaque; an action clearly intended to obscure their undermining message.
Danny quickly checked over his shoulder and saw that the window was still opaque. By masking their view of the exiles, they’d also obscured the outside world. For them, these latest events outside the Node simply did not exist.
After several minutes, there had been no signs of life from the craft and the celebrations subsided slightly. People busied themselves packing supply crates and dismantling their tents, but it was all done with a sense of optimism. To Danny though, the timing of the unidentified craft was highly suspicious. The fact that any form of transport had arrived at this remote part of Iceland, at the exact moment they needed it, seemed beyond coincidence. It wasn’t a view shared by Tyler Briars, whose newly-fired adventurous spirit seemed undamped.
“Told you, didn’t I?” said Tyler, continuing to pack a supply crate, “Gonna be a whole new world.”
Danny didn’t reply.
Rising above the craft and heading in their direction was a hovering, black drone. Extending down from it was a shiny metal rod.
Although he had no rational evidence to suggest that the drone was a threat, a primal reaction caused him to assess the machine as though it were a large stinging insect. Instinctively, he found himself backing away; something that Tyler and a few others began to notice.
“What is that?” Tyler looked out across the short stretch of water.
“I don’t know,” Danny turned and pulled a metal tent pole from a nearby crate, “but I don’t like the look of it.”
As the drone hovered towards them, several of the others now adopted the same mentality and grabbed tent poles to arm themselves.
•
As the Discovery’s engines wound down, Anna heard Cathy voice the fact they were home; though what ‘home’ would mean was anyone’s guess.
During their time aboard the ISS, daily exercise regimes had slowed the effects of muscle degradation but the long-term exposure to zero gravity had still taken its toll. Anna knew the months ahead would be hard; not least the task of adapting to Earth’s full gravity. Although Fai had prepared for this.
Following a horse riding accident that had left Fai’s father paralysed below the waist, he had spent years developing neuromuscular stimulation systems. Fai’s early predecessors were the direct result of his efforts to develop computation that was fast enough to both read and stimulate muscle impulses. Chen Tai’s hope had been that the technology would one day help him to walk again, but despite his system assisting several injured servicemen, it had been unable to help him.
The research had not gone to waste though; during the reassembly of the Discovery, Fai built on her father’s work to create something useful for the three returning crew members.
Anna looked down at the 3D-printed, calliper-like frameworks that surrounded her legs, and the motorised joints aligned with her knees and ankles. At the moment, the technology felt heavy but Fai had assured them that once activated, the exo-limbs would adapt to cancel out any apparent weight.
A slightly comical image crossed her mind of meeting Douglas and Kate again, looking like one half of a factory robot. She could even picture their broad smiles welcoming her back. Not for the first time, she felt an overwhelming pull to be with them.
If they’d made it into the Node before the first lunar shards had struck, then there was still the possibility she could see them again. All she would have to do is stand in front of the observation window and Douglas would do the rest.
“Home, sweet home,” said Mike, unbuckling the harness, “Let’s get out there.”
“Inadvisable,” said Fai, “I am still equalising the air pressure.”
Anna saw a quizzical look cross Cathy’s face.
“I thought we were running at one atmosphere of pressure?”
“The Discovery is an untested prototype,” Fai replied, “I elevated the pressure by two percent as a safeguard against undetected leaks. If we encountered minor decompression during the descent phase, I would have sufficient time to re-engage the Field before the crew lost consciousness.”
Anna saw Cathy exchange looks with Mike.
“Yeah…” Mike replied hesitantly, “In future, we should probably talk more about the human component side of operations.”
“I welcome your input.”
“OK,” said Anna, “If we can’t get out there just yet, we need to look at communications. The Node’s Field is opaque to radio signals, and we can’t talk Trans-Field because, well, they don’t know to look out for it.”
“Fai, any incoming transmissions from the group out there?” asked Cathy.
“I have not detected any local radio transmissions. It is possible they lack the electronic means to communicate.”
Anna thought she had the beginnings of an idea. She leaned back in her seat and spoke towards Fai’s cockpit microphone.
“Fai, when the Discovery was being reassembled, I saw schematics for one of Archive’s aerial drones.”
“Yes, it was to fulfil the requirement to survey our surroundings after landing.”
“And were there sufficient resources to complete its construction?”
“Yes,” Fai replied, “I can see your intention. I am now configuring our aerial drone for two-way audio communication and camera relay.”
“Great,” said Cathy, “How long until it’s ready?”
“The unit is ready now,” Fai replied, “Shall I deploy it?”
“Yes,” said Mike, pointing to the display panels, “Can we use one of these screens for the camera feed?”
“One moment.”
One of the smaller instrument screens flickered to black.
“Drone deployed.”
The same screen grew brighter, the view now showing dim recesses and protruding metal terminals.
“OK, what am I looking at?” said Cathy, squinting at the monitor.
“The interior of the drone recharging dock. The unit must reverse out first.”
The view became brighter still as the drone hovered away from the Discovery.
“Wow,” said Mike, moving closer to the screen, “I’ve not seen us from this angle… nice work, Fai.”
The craft was aerodynamic but not sleek; the various functions it had to perform were easily identifiable. In the middle of the nearest wing, Anna could see where the jet-like hybrid engines pivoted to convert between forward motion and vertical lift. As the drone continued to rise up and away, she could also see the curved, conical housings of the redesigned heavy-lift rear boosters; but until sufficient fuel could be synthesised, a return to orbit would not be possible. The Discovery wasn’t classically beautiful, she thought, but it had a simplicity of form driven by the availability of orbital resources.
“It’s elegant and efficient, Fai,” Anna smiled in Cathy’s direction, who was suppressing a laugh.
The drone rotated and a view of the Node slid into view; a gleaming dome that dominated the small island, in front of which was the small crowd she’d seen from the air.
“Look at their camp,” Cathy pointed, “They’re still setting up.”
“They can’t have been here long,” said Mike, “Fai, can you take us closer?”
As the camera moved over the water towards the island, Anna knew she was missing something, but couldn’t pinpoint it.
“We’ve been gone for nearly a century,” Cathy was staring at the tiny display, “and who knows when they must have begun their trek across Iceland, but we both got here at the same time. The EVA message is behind all this, I swear…”
“Maybe they’ll have answers,” Mike shrugged, “OK, Fai can you slow the approach?”
The picture now levelled out and came to a hovering rest opposite the group of people nearest to the island’s edge.
“Are they…” Cathy angled her head slightly, “Are they threatening the drone with sticks?”
“They’ve got some kind of forehead markings, is that a tribal thing?” Mike squinted at the small display, “Maybe they haven’t seen a drone before.”
“After so long away,” Cathy added, “we don’t know what state the world’s in.”
“No, something’s not right,” Anna studied the screen, “Look at their gear, it’s brand new. Fai, how do I talk to them?”
“One moment,” she replied, “There is a keyboard to your left, Dr. Bergstrom, press and hold the ‘Enter’ key to talk.”
Anna pressed the button and angled her head toward the microphone.
“Hello?”
She saw the defensive postures relax very slightly, but the sticks remained raised. Two thoughts occurred in rapid succession: they may not speak English, and whatever language they did speak was now a century older.
“Can you understand me?” Anna asked.
One of their number stepped a little closer and nodded. His forehead was more deeply marked than the others; it was possible that he represented the group.
“Who are you?” the man called out above the drone’s rotor noise.
A lifetime of experience told her that this was not the question he actually wanted answering. He’d witnessed their landing and, judging by the ongoing defensive posture of the group, the drone was perceived as a threat. He needed an answer-shaped reply that would put him at ease.
“My name is Anna,” she began, “I guess this noisy flying thing looks a bit scary, sorry about that. We can’t leave our craft yet and it was the only way we could talk with you.”
“Who sent you?” he lowered the stick slightly.
She released her finger from the key and turned to Mike and Cathy, “Any idea how to sum that one up?”
“Without freaking him out?” asked Mike rhetorically.
Anna quickly considered how she might phrase things to avoid mentioning the fact that an anomaly, embedded within an Earth-sized storm on Jupiter, had been instrumental in their arrival at the Node’s coordinates. She pressed the key again.
“We… received a message, that sent us to this location,” she simplified, “How did you all find this place?”
“What?” the reply seemed almost incredulous in tone.
“I mean, were you… guided here somehow?”
His look of confusion was apparent even over the small monitor.
Anna now realised the details she’d missed. There had been no bridge to the island and no signs of a boat or raft. Although the camp was new, the people had not trekked for miles to be here.
“What do you mean ‘guided here’?” the man pointed back at the Node, “We’re from here.”
In that moment she knew her assumptions had blinded her to the available evidence. She’d expected to see strangers, so that’s what she’d seen. As she looked at the assembled group, she studied their faces afresh. Many were still unknown but there was a vague familiarity to others; perhaps she’d once seen them around the base before her departure. One face she recognised was the Node’s doctor, but the name escaped her.
The awful realisation dawned.
In theory, the Node’s Field must have been deactivated to allow the safe exit of the group; she’d missed the opportunity to reunite with Douglas and Kate by a matter of hours.
Her more logical side immediately engaged to adapt to the temporal differential at play. Mere seconds
had elapsed inside the Node. She assessed the scene in front of her then took her finger off the key.
“Fai, it looks like they have rope, can we use the drone’s flight stabiliser rod to carry one end of it to our side?”
“Yes, the thrust to weight ratio –”
“Fine,” she pressed the key again, “Hello? I can see you’ve got rope there.”
“Yeah?” the man cautiously replied.
“Can you tie one end of it to the long stick on this drone?’
“Er… yeah.”
“Great,” said Anna, “Let’s build a bridge.”
BRIDGE
For Miles, there was a logical sense to what Fai had presented to him. From the evidence he’d seen, and the actual duration of his unconsciousness, it was at least possible that she’d had sufficient time to save him.
His mind craved more input though, a trait that had been present even in his ego-morph days; without input, he couldn’t plan ahead. He knew there was another question that he’d have to lay to rest.
“Am I…” he stopped to correct himself, “Is my body dead?”
“That is a crucial distinction, Miles,” she replied, “and one which I’m glad you’ve made. At the start of this project, I evaluated several options for preserving life function. My initial projections determined that the original storage medium of your neurological pattern was in a state of irreparable decline. Although I could have conducted a partial repair, the same situation would inevitably reoccur as you continued to age. Unfortunately, a biological continuation of your life function was not possible.”
From her perspective and language, Miles could tell that she saw his death as an interruption, rather than a sombre moment of introspection. He idly ran his hand over the smooth surface of the desk.
“So, none of this is…”
“It is all real,” she replied.
There were moments during his ego-morph career when he’d used a mental reprocessing technique to review recent memories in more detail; when in that state, the details within those memories were indistinguishable from real life.
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