Eva

by Simon Winstanley

  “The access roof?” Karl frowned but then his expression became one of realisation, “It’s not watertight…”

  Ross was nodding, “The sliding roof was great for getting the FLC duplicate pieces down here, but even with the roof sealed it won’t withstand a tidal wave.”

  “Mommy?” came a quiet voice from behind them.

  Lawrence turned to see that a sleepy-looking Abel had found his way back into the Starfish staging area. Janine was on her feet immediately; a broad, reassuring smile pinned to her face as she walked over to be with him.

  “Hey there!” she said brightly, scooping him up into a hug and carrying him away, “I was just coming to fetch you. Let’s see if there’s something to play with in the toy cupboard, should we? I’m sure that I saw…”

  Janine’s voice became lost behind a closing door at the side of the cavernous room. Surrounded by the simulation of the lunar surface, and the gargantuan FLC duplicate only a few feet away, Lawrence found himself stuck on one incongruous thought.

  “You have a toy cupboard?” he asked Karl, “Down here?”

  “Yep,” Karl got to his feet, “Actually, that sounds like a good place to start.”

  Ross stood, unclipped a set of keys from his belt and walked quickly towards the door that Janine and Abel had used. Following them, Lawrence saw that the door itself was set within a much larger one.

  “Larry,” said Karl, “I’m guessing you don’t have kids yourself?”

  “Er…” Lawrence shook his head.

  “The Toy Cupboard,” he appeared to emphasise the words, “is where you put the toys when you’ve finished playing with them.”

  Lawrence watched as Ross inserted one of his keys into the larger door.

  0K

  13th April 2014

  Pavna hit the ascent button and, accompanied by a loud pneumatic hiss, she felt Pod Two spring upwards under her. The electric motors then took over and the pod sped upwards along the teeth within the shaft wall.

  She hadn’t wanted to leave Tristan behind in what looked like an unfolding chaos, but he’d made it an order. She knew he only did this when he was sure a situation could be controlled. If she could get the USV evacuees out of Pod Two quickly enough, then it could easily be sent down again. She had first-hand experience that the descent phase was ridiculously fast.

  As the pod sped past the halfway mark, she stood to address everyone and could see a lot of anxious faces. She knew nothing about them, but from the way they were looking at her, she could tell that they’d lived in fear and uncertainty.

  Although she herself felt completely bewildered by the entire day’s events, she knew she’d have to appear to be in control. When presented with chaos, people preferred to follow order.

  “OK!” she called out.

  Without exception, everyone was now paying attention.

  “When we get to the top,” she adopted an authoritative tone, “we’ll need to get out quickly. When you see the iris door close under this mesh floor, stand up straight away! When the side door opens, get out as fast as you can. You’ll be aboard a submarine loading bay, head for the far wall but stay on that deck.”

  For a moment the only sounds were the pod’s ratcheting climb and the accompanying wind that was howling through the wire mesh floor. Then the pod began to decelerate suddenly.

  As if the Sea-Bass’ airlock was arriving at speed from above them, its polished walls flew down into place and dropped below the pod’s floor level. Through the mesh floor of the pod she could see the USV shaft’s integrated airlock beginning to close. The metallic plates were in the process of closing when they suddenly jarred to a halt, half open. Before she had chance to assess the issue, the interlocking spiral plates of the Sea-Bass’ own airlock quickly spiralled closed over the top.

  “Let’s go!” she shouted and placed her finger on the door release button; she wouldn’t want to waste a moment when the light on the panel turned green. The evacuees were on their feet within a few seconds and were facing the exit door in anticipation, but when the door didn’t open immediately, she could sense their restlessness.

  She felt her ears adjusting to a change in pressure and once more she found herself stretching her jaw to relieve the effects. The light turned green and she reacted instantly to push the button. The airlock’s side access door hissed open and the evacuees began to stream out; their hurried feet sending a cacophony of metallic clatter around the lower submarine deck.

  “Keep moving forward,” she called out as they left, “Head for the far wall.”

  “Pav, come in,” Lucy’s voice sounded from the comm panel outside the airlock.

  Pavna made her way outside and spoke into the panel, “I’m here.”

  “The temperature reading just hit negative two fifty-four.”

  For some reason, Lucy’s voice seemed to lack her recent urgency.

  “Lucy, Pod Two is clear,” she watched as the last of the evacuees climbed out onto the deck, “Get Mat to reset the Pod, I’m going back down.”

  Lucy didn’t respond.

  “Lucy, did you hear me?”

  “Pavna,” Mat’s voice replied.

  “Mat, send me back down,” she climbed into Pod Two and pushed the door control button.

  The door didn’t respond.

  “Pavna,” Mat’s voice sounded as downbeat as Lucy’s, “It’s insane, but Tristan’s been right about every temperature drop so far.”

  She jabbed at the button again, “And?”

  “In theory there can’t be another drop,” he replied, “we’d go through the zero Kelvin boundary, but…”

  “But what?”

  “When you guys got aboard just now, the anomaly’s magnetic field, it… well, it went nuts. There’s so much interference, we can’t even get through to Tris! But if he’s right about the temperature pattern, then we’re heading for something big. Maybe as big as the event that brought us here in the first place. Me and Lucy reckon it would be a mistake if the Sea-Bass is still docked when -”

  “You and Lucy?” she snapped, “Suddenly you’re both experts in all this?”

  “We’ve not just been twiddling our thumbs,” Mat’s tone changed, “If the last drop interval is anything to go by, the pod can’t make it down and back in time.”

  “Mat, we can’t just leave him down there!”

  “Think about it, Pav,” he spoke quickly, “Tris wouldn’t want to risk the sub, or anyone you’ve both just saved!”

  Despite her repeated button presses, the pod door remained open.

  “We know where he is,” Mat continued, “if this anomaly drags us off to somewhere else, then we know exactly where to find him. If we stay docked, we might breach and then he’s stranded for sure.”

  “OK,” she spoke her thoughts aloud, “If you left me down there, how many days would it take the Sea-Bass to get back from the -”

  “Tristan’s my best mate and I love him to bits,” he interrupted forcefully, “but you’re not going down there again!”

  “Why not?!” she shouted and punched the button.

  “Because I bloody love you even more!” he yelled, “There, I bloody said it! Hate me all you want, but I don’t wanna lose you, Pav!”

  She felt a heavy mechanical shudder from under the Sea-Bass as the external docking clamps unlocked, followed by a slight upward compression on the base of her feet.

  The Sea-Bass had started to rise.

  She stepped out of the pod and onto the metal decking. From the evacuees’ expressions, she could tell they’d heard the whole exchange. She found herself only now considering the fact that Tristan was not the only one they’d left behind.

  “We’re coming back,” she walked past them and began rapidly climbing the ladder to the upper deck, “I suggest you hold onto something. This next part might get a little rough.”

  She wasn’t entirely sure if her words were to alert the evacuees or prepare herself for the awkward conversation she was yet to have wit
h Mat. She knew she wasn’t very good at picking up on subtle signs of affection, but it had taken an ice anomaly over a submerged Dover to eventually bring Mat’s feelings to her attention.

  When she reached the control room she saw that Mat and Lucy were holding onto the handrail in front of the bubble window; both of them staring out at the ice sphere that dominated the view.

  “Why’s nothing happening?” Lucy peered out at the sphere.

  Pavna made her way forward.

  It appeared that Mat had piloted the sub to become level with the plane of the ring. She could see that the status of the mano-jets was set to auto, but the power readings were zero. Again it seemed that the anomaly was holding them in position.

  She walked past the central display surface and saw that it was alive with spiralling loops of growing magnetic flux, centred around the Sea-Bass. The arrow symbol at the top of the screen was a fluctuating blur; it seemed that every conceivable compass direction was simultaneously ‘North’. The anomaly was obviously extremely active but the outside view remained unchanged.

  She slowly walked to Mat’s side and opened her mouth to speak, but the words somehow failed to form. He turned away from the window but wouldn’t raise his head to meet her eyes. When she didn’t say anything, he turned away again to look out at the anomaly. He placed a single hand on the rail to steady himself and drew a slow breath.

  There were no words to sum up their collective experience. No easy ways to explain their actions in the middle of a situation that was both beyond their control and beyond their understanding.

  Perhaps words weren’t needed, she thought.

  He’d only placed one hand on the rail, the other hand was still at his side, next to her. Quietly, she slipped her hand into his. As she gently gripped his hand, the words now came easily.

  “Whatever happens next,” she said, “don’t let go.”

  Immediately the surface of the sphere changed and she felt Mat return her grip.

  Although the overall impression was that the sphere of ice was expanding beyond the window’s frame, the surface never got any closer. The curvature of the sphere was simply flattening out, becoming more like a wall of ice that extended infinitely in all directions.

  If the Sea-Bass truly was experiencing temperatures below the 0K boundary, then the sensors were once again unable to interpret the incoming data; as before, alarms around the control room were ringing out. Unlike last time though, Pavna kept her eyes firmly fixed on the impossible spectacle.

  STRING THEORY

  ~

  Kate closed the curtains of the Samphire Cottage living room.

  “Those are the other interventions I know of,” she said, “and they’re spread throughout human history.”

  She could see that her mother was considering something but didn’t quite know how to phrase it.

  “Sorry, Katie, I’m still new to this,” she crossed the room and sat down again at the living room table.

  “What is it?” Douglas joined her.

  “If we’re the only ones within this… Boundary,” she began.

  “Go on,” said Kate.

  “Couldn’t those interventions be things that we have yet to make at some point in our future?” she frowned, “You know? I now walk out of that door and cause a hotspot in the Antarctic, sort of an arrangement?”

  Kate had to smile at the way her mother was thinking, even if it wasn’t quite right. Her eyes settled on the piece of string that was still on the table.

  “Try looking at it this way,” she sat down next to her, “Imagine walking along a piece of string, and for every step you make, you leave behind a knot. There are no knots in front of you because you haven’t walked there yet. From this perspective your future footsteps are still unknown.”

  “OK.”

  “Now imagine that you finish walking and you view that same knot-filled string from above. From this new perspective, all the knots would be visible simultaneously. The knots are no longer being created, so what you’re actually seeing is a summary of all the steps that were ever taken.”

  “OK,” Monica understood, “For us, past, present and future events coexist as some sort of… worldwide… snapshot.”

  “Exactly!” Kate seemed surprised that she’d grasped the concept so quickly, “The view out there, represents everything that will ever happen. But if we make another change…”

  Kate bent the knotted string into a slightly different shape.

  “…then of course the continuum will shift and rearrange. But then, that pattern would represent a summary of how everything ended up. The point is that evidence of intervention is already present, now, regardless of what we may or may not do later.”

  “So what does that mean for us?” asked Monica.

  Kate sat back in the chair and looked at them both.

  “It means that something has been, or still is, altering the snapshot.”

  “What do you mean, ‘still is’?” Douglas immediately replied.

  Kate sighed. The main reason for not telling them about any of this had been to spare them the burden of distracting knowledge. The task ahead of them was already difficult enough.

  “I have to accept the possibility,” Kate began, “that we ourselves are still subject to some form of external intervention. Even here within the Boundary.”

  “Intervention?” said Monica, “From where?”

  Kate found herself looking upwards, even though she suspected the hierarchy in play was not arranged in such an easily definable orientation.

  “When I make a change,” she leaned forwards, “those in linear time have no concept that time is being re-written around them. They see each moment as a seamless continuation. I have to consider that, in a similar way, we may not be able to detect if our actions are being re-directed by something, er, outside the Boundary.”

  Her parents offered no argument or questions; both appeared to be lost in their own thoughts. Outside the cottage, those thoughts would be visible to her, but in here they had a semblance of privacy. It was Monica who broke the silence.

  “Have you ever been prevented from making an alteration?”

  “No,” she replied.

  “Never?” Monica pressed.

  “How would she know?” Douglas interrupted, “If events seamlessly heal around you, then how could you tell?”

  “OK, fair point,” Monica agreed, “But have you ever experienced extraordinary difficulty in trying to achieve a goal?”

  “Of course,” Kate admitted, “When I was first trying to bring Dad here.”

  “Didn’t stop you though!” Monica actually laughed.

  “What are you getting at, Mon?” said Douglas.

  “I mean that hard stuff is still hard, impossible stuff is still impossible,” she shrugged, “Exactly like life used to be! External intervention or not, it doesn’t matter. We just keep working and things will turn out for the best.”

  “And how can you possibly know that?” Kate couldn’t help responding.

  “Katie, the changes you’ve made always had the end goal of giving humanity a fighting chance,” she replied, “Either that goal hasn’t been blocked, or your actions have been corrected to achieve the same thing. If you weren’t supposed to be messing around up here, then I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t even be here.”

  There was something in her mother’s words that resonated with her; the notion of being permitted to be here was not a thought she’d even considered before. But it made sense.

  Kate thought back to her last physical moments, standing alongside the exiles outside the Node. Upon giving up her corporeal existence she’d seen the underlying complexity of the Boundary. She’d even sensed her transition into its non-linear time-frame. The genuinely new thought that now presented itself was not one she’d been prepared for.

  The cottage around them shuddered.

  “Sorry,” she apologised to her suddenly worried-looking parents, “That was careless.”

 
“What is it Katie?” her father asked.

  She explained that although her formerly human mind had understood the Boundary’s true nature, she’d had no evidence to suggest that a human mind would be able to exist within it, let alone control it. Despite this, she had chosen to leave behind her physical form and leap for the unknown.

  “You decided to take a step into the unknown,” Monica was actually smiling, “and what do we know about decisions? They come from being presented with a choice.”

  Her mother seemed to be moving towards the same thoughts as her.

  “What do you mean?” Kate folded her arms.

  “I mean you were presented with a choice. You didn’t discover the Boundary. You were invited in.”

  “Seriously?” Douglas objected; the idea of decision-tree outcomes emerging from an unknown source was obviously uncomfortable for him.

  “Think about it, Kate” Monica shuffled forward in her chair, “Yes, you could cleverly theorise and understand the complexity of this place, but why should that give you automatic access to it? Why should you be able to learn how to control it? Why would the, er… interface, with this level of reality be so…”

  “Convenient?” Douglas completed.

  Kate knew there had been nothing convenient about her own learning process; she had spent the equivalent of several hundred lifetimes studying its nuances. But even as her objections formed, she had to concede that her mother had a point. Kate had first arrived into this space being able to see events, even if they were out of chronological order; why should the human sense of sight have had any relevance here?

  “If you were invited in,” Monica continued, “Then, best case, you’re being assisted in achieving your goal.”

  “And worst case?” Douglas prompted.

  “The interventions you’ve found are still an unknown,” she replied, “and your actions are being seamlessly altered to prevent you from doing something.”

  Kate and her father both exhaled at the same time, something that seemed to amuse her mother.

  “Either way,” Monica laughed, “there’s not a damn thing we can do about it. Probably best that we just get on with it!”