Eva

by Simon Winstanley

  THE TOY CUPBOARD

  25th December 2013

  Karl accompanied Ross to the side of the vast FLC simulation room and watched as he began to unlock the large door. Lawrence followed on behind, listening as Ross explained more about the room that lay beyond.

  “I told you all this before, Larry,” said Ross, “Every time they shipped a piece up to the Moon, we made a duplicate down here.”

  “But…” Lawrence hesitated, “I thought you were just talking about the FLC?”

  “Nope,” Ross replied as the door began to open, “I told you, this was the only way we could keep track of everything that our guys were doing.”

  Karl now added his weight to the wide, heavy door.

  “The trouble is…” Karl pushed, “that you end up with lots of expensive toys… that you don’t really want to throw away.”

  “Just in case they’re useful one day,” Ross added, allowing the door to drift open under its own momentum.

  Despite his years at Houston, Karl had never quite become used to the sight. In front of him was the dense maze of multi-decade Apollo hardware: duplicates of chunky-looking lunar vehicles, multiple cone-shaped command modules, and clusters of more recent machinery designed for human-rated space flight.

  “The Toy Cupboard,” Lawrence was staring in awe at the sheer volume of space equipment, “You kept copies of everything.”

  “No,” said Karl, “Only the stuff that we left on the Moon, or anything that carried an astronaut. The Starfish takes up the staging area now, but back in the day, every one of these beauties took their turn on the lunar set.”

  A shocked expression crossed Lawrence’s face.

  “Did they fake the landings?”

  Karl had thought the same thing when he’d first seen the facility.

  “We were going to the Moon anyway,” he replied, “What would be the point of faking it?”

  “Of course, sorry,” Lawrence apologised and, with a look of slight disappointment, turned to look at the array of mission modules.

  Karl knew of the romanticism surrounding lunar conspiracies and he knew that Archive had even capitalised on it, planting their own rumours to purposefully misdirect the public. However, when it came to the actual lunar landings, only one detail had been altered.

  “We only faked the landing location. The real Sea of Tranquillity would have been far too visible from Earth.”

  Closest to the door, was a duplicate of the Apollo 54 retro-dropper module; the last vehicle to deliver an astronaut and supplies to the FLC. Its real-world counterpart had taken Eva Gray along with computing supplies back in 2010. They couldn’t have known it then, but it would be the final time that manned retro-droppers would be used.

  In the distance Karl could see that, under the watchful eye of his wife, Abel was climbing up and down the ladder of the Apollo 11 Lunar Module, his face a picture of concentration. The last step to the ground was a small one, but for his five-year-old son it must have felt like a giant leap.

  “You’ve got a genuine lunar explorer there,” Lawrence commented by his side.

  At those words, Karl felt a chill run though him. Eva Gray had once used those exact words to describe his son. Although the words themselves were commonplace enough, he would never forget the circumstances.

  To this day, his wife had no idea how it had happened. During a training exercise, Abel had managed to crawl out onto the simulated regolith and sit within one of the craters. A spacesuited Eva had met him on the lunar surface and had removed her helmet to talk with him. Abel had apparently been unfazed by the incident and had even grasped hold of Eva’s Kevlar-gloved thumb.

  Knowing now the actions that Eva had taken after leaving Earth, the innocent encounter had taken on a new significance: his own son had been touched by the hand of death.

  Not for the first time, he found himself wishing that Eva had washed out of the space program earlier; Earth would still have had a moon. Any notion of Abel becoming a ‘lunar explorer’ had been destroyed just as surely as the Moon itself.

  Karl became aware that Ross was standing next to him, swiping at a smartphone screen. The director was one of the few people who still had a smartphone, but it seemed that the status symbol now had little use as a viable phone.

  “Still nothing,” said Ross, putting the device away, “We have to get out of here.”

  Karl nodded, “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

  Their collective discussions and planning over the next few hours honed in on one inescapable fact: inevitably, the subterranean Houston facility was going to flood. However, the chaos and panic that must surely be gripping the population on the surface, ruled out the option of simply walking out of the building at street level.

  It left only one viable exit: the sliding access doors high above the duplicate FLC. However, this too came with an inbuilt problem: once clear of the roof, they would find themselves in the midst of a panicked population, an incoming tsunami, or both.

  Their initial thoughts had been to retask their duplicate RTO module and ascend through the roof, remaining airborne long enough for the worst tsunami effects to pass. However, despite being capable of lifting six people from the lunar surface, the thrust to weight ratio in Earth’s gravity made the RTO itself too heavy.

  Perhaps inspired by seeing Abel’s giant leap, they investigated a possible hybrid solution; one that could use the RTO’s more powerful thruster base, but in conjunction with one of the lighter, four-decade-old Apollo 11 modules.

  OBSERVATION

  DAY645 : 20DEC6152

  By necessity the Observatory was placed at the highest point of the Node. Owing to its elevated position within the hemisphere, the level was not subdivided into segments like other floors. The circular floor had a large, centrally placed, reflector telescope that could be tilted to view through the observation window. However, with the electro-tinting still in place, any area of study was now limited to the panes of clear glass directly above the telescope itself.

  Even with no expertise in astronomy, Cassidy could see the difference between the original image and the one that Gail was now showing her.

  The stars were in the wrong place.

  “And this is that obliquity thing you told me about?” Cassidy checked.

  “Yeah,” Gail tapped at the keyboard and the motorised base of the telescope began to realign, “Checking above us, at where Andromeda and Pegasus are now, it looks like the Earth has begun tilting off axis. Of course I can’t verify this relative to our orbital plane because of the…”

  Gail sighed and pointed at the opaqued view beyond the observatory level balcony.

  “I guess I should count myself lucky that the summit isn’t tinted too,” she grumbled.

  “The tilt’s more than you were expecting?” Cassidy asked, leaving behind the workstation and joining her at the tightly curving balcony.

  “We’ve been gone over four thousand years, but yeah, a lot more than I was expecting… and it hasn’t stabilised yet,” Gail sighed heavily and pointed to everything beneath their level, “Look at them all, Cass. The whole planet’s teetering on its axis and they’re all blind to it…”

  Their current high vantage point allowed her to see Gail’s sentiment in crystal clarity.

  The Observation Deck, over a dozen levels below, was crammed with people staring at the opaque window and the evening movie being projected onto it. People contentedly viewed, ate and drank while a mindless action movie converted wanton destruction into a mere distraction for the masses.

  Further up, on the raised walkways that crossed through the Observation Deck’s airspace, she could see that miniature tribes of jogging enthusiasts were once again bustling along in coordinated sweatpants. Cassidy couldn’t help thinking that they were running away from something that couldn’t be left behind.

  At several junctions of the exposed levels, people gathered in the comfortable seating areas around concession stands, trading Node credits and smiles.
Perhaps the thought stemmed from the conversations she’d had with Danny Smith, now seemingly a lifetime ago, but the Node’s similarity to a pre-collapse shopping mall was undeniable; everywhere there seemed to be mini-monuments to consumerism, providing retail therapy to the culturally lost.

  Possibly the most insidious of all was the fact that Nature had been contained and subverted too. Throughout the Node, large broadleaved plants stood at the base of every support beam, and sprays of potted palm trees softened the presence of hard nuts and bolts. Each splash of greenery had been put to work concealing the Node’s cold mechanics.

  “Perhaps it was the best way of keeping the peace,” Gail was saying, “Give people something familiar, but…”

  Cassidy knew that it had kept the peace. Each small change had further pacified the Node’s population; giving them something to occupy their time in the absence of a visible goal. But each small variation had only driven them further from being able to see their contained world for what it was: a recreational prison.

  The gentle whir of the telescope’s motorised base stopped, leaving only a general hubbub drifting up from the Node’s lower levels far below.

  “People aren’t even asking about the outside anymore,” Gail pushed away from the balcony and returned to the centre of the Observatory where she inserted a memory stick into a workstation, “But they should…”

  “What is it, Gail?” she lowered her voice, even though they were alone.

  “I found something else,” she replied, equally quietly, “I’ve only talked it over with Roy, but other than you and Marshall… I don’t trust anyone else.”

  “Not even Scott?”

  “I know he’s our inside man, but if he slips up and says something to Barnes by accident, then…” Gail let her unfinished fears hang in the air.

  Cassidy hated the idea of divisiveness within their group, but she knew Gail had a point.

  “OK, go on.”

  “Before Danny and the others were exiled,” she began, “I found evidence of volatiles within the lunar ring, things like ammonia, nitrogen -”

  “Water,” Cassidy continued, “Yeah, I think I remember, but didn’t you tell us all about it at the time?”

  “Yeah, I did,” Gail raised her eyebrows, “but it’s what happened over the past few thousand years that’s more interesting. Look.”

  On the screen in front of them, Gail displayed a video.

  “Where is this?” asked Cassidy, trying to find a point of reference but then spotted a shallow arc of lunar debris rising and falling over the Icelandic horizon, “Oh, OK, this is just after the Node’s first departure.”

  The rising and setting arc of rock suddenly thickened in width and density.

  “I think that’s Siva’s arrival,” Gail pre-empted her question, “The debris in lunar orbit increased. As you know, this is when I found the volatiles.”

  Chemical element labels were suddenly highlighted at hundreds of locations on the image, then the screen turned a milky white.

  “Exile Day,” said Gail, “We lost our observation window. But this window above us is just plain glass, it stayed transparent.”

  “And?”

  “Just on the circumference of that round window, right at the lowest edge,” Gail pointed at the rim of the clear glazed area, “I began detecting the same volatiles. It’s possible that we could only see them because of our altered planetary tilt, but they were definitely there. Chemical signatures that could only have originated in the original lunar ring, except they were no longer in geostationary orbit.”

  “You’re saying they moved?” Cassidy struggled to keep up.

  “I can’t say that for certain,” Gail held up her hands, “Things are happening so fast outside that I can’t confirm how they got there. But I can confirm one thing though…”

  Gail brought up a bar chart showing the amount of observable volatiles. Cassidy watched as the bar heights seemed to decrease in a series of discontinuous jolts.

  “… They’re depleting,” Gail concluded.

  “You know I’m no expert here, but those jumps can’t be natural, can they?”

  “They’re artificial,” Gail nodded, “So far I’ve only managed to capture the event once on the Observatory’s high speed visual recorders. Like I said, things are moving by so quickly out there, so I only managed to get a single frame.”

  Gail cleared the screen and displayed the one frame she’d captured. The image was grainy from excessive magnification, but the form was unmistakable. Quite clearly this was a detonation.

  Cassidy stared at the bright flash of white and orange, set against the black backdrop of space. Before she could say anything, she heard the sound of several pairs of feet climbing the narrow stairs below them.

  Cassidy quickly looked at Gail who then shook her head. Neither of them were expecting anyone. Gail hurriedly unplugged the memory stick from the telescope’s workstation and the screen went black.

  •

  Carrying his son, Roy Carter started to make his way across the elevated walkway that ran through the Observation Deck’s open space. A few levels below, he could see that the evening’s entertainment was still underway. It was a repeat of an old movie he’d already screened; a pair of mismatched cops struggling to bring a felon to justice by using fast cars and explosions. Turning his attention away from the gung-ho dialogue, he saw President Barnes at the midpoint of the walkway accompanied by his CPO bodyguards and a few members of the Node Press.

  Although true news was rare in so confined a space, there were magazine-style video features that were regularly broadcast to the Node’s public screens. Roy could see that the cameraman for this feature was holding the camera low while filming the president; presumably it made him look more imposing.

  Roy wasn’t looking forward to the attention, but prepared himself as he walked. Neil had been the first child born within the Node, and although there had been others since, the media attention surrounding his small family had never quite faded. Today was another milestone event that would be put under a spotlight for the purposes of entertainment. He knew he’d have to produce a smile. He found that by looking down at Neil, resting in his arms, the process of smiling was made easier. Maintaining the facial arrangement, he reached the media crew.

  “Here they are!” Alfred Barnes’ warm greeting caused the full glare of the camera’s light to swing in Roy’s direction, “Happy first birthday, Neil!”

  The camera rolled as President Barnes half-sung the mandatory song and Roy managed to laugh and smile along with those who were capturing the happy moment for posterity. After Roy had given another recount of the dramatic day when his son had been born, the camera tilted away to point down at the site of the Observation Deck floor several storeys below.

  In preparation for the camera’s return, Alfred positioned himself next to Roy, ensuring that he would be pictured next to the baby, rather than framed by his armed CPO bodyguards. The last few moments of the feature involved some posed handshakes, words of birthday wishes and of course photographs of the president holding the unfazed or unimpressed Neil.

  “So this will go out today?” Alfred asked the camera crew.

  “If we’re quick on the edit,” the cameraman replied, “We can cut short the movie credits and everyone will see it tonight.”

  “Excellent!” he replied, “Well, don’t let me stop you!”

  The crew moved away, waving enthusiastically to Neil and talking about auxiliary and establishing shots that would bookend the piece. A few moments later all was quiet again and Roy realised that the only ones left on the high walkway were himself, two armed officers and President Barnes - still holding his son.

  “I can’t believe how heavy he is now, Roy,” he smiled into Neil’s face, “Soon I won’t be able to hold him at all.”

  Roy felt the blood freeze in his veins.

  “My apologies, Mr. President,” Roy offered out his hands, “Let me take him from you.”

&nbs
p; “Oh nonsense!” he smiled again, “He’s no bother to hold right now. In fact, while I have hold of him it’s the perfect time for me to give him my gift. But we really shouldn’t do this without Gail.”

  “All the media attention, I think she’s quite camera shy,” Roy tried to deflect the issue of her absence. In point of fact, he knew that Gail was actually using the time to meet with Cassidy in private, “I’m sure she’s around here somewhere.”

  “Good thinking,” Barnes gestured to one of his officers who approached and held out a control tablet, “There’s a matter I need to discuss with you both. Let’s see if we can find her.”

  Roy saw that the tablet was showing a ‘locked’ screen, but after a few seconds it displayed the text ‘RF Biomag unlock: Barnes, A.’

  Alfred one-handedly tapped at the screen.

  “Ah, there she is,” he seemed satisfied, “With Miss Briars in the Observatory.”

  With the exchange of a few glances, the officer holding the tablet stepped away again and a second officer approached, holding open a colourful gift bag.

  “I’ve got to admit it, Roy,” he adjusted his grip on Neil, “When I first got here, I didn’t really understand how these things worked, but they’re absolutely fascinating…”

  Roy felt a stab of alarm as Alfred began unlooping the Biomag from around his son’s neck.

  “…apparently, if the biomatter is within twenty percent of the original weight then everything stays safely anchored. I believe it’s how you and the others saved Gail isn’t it?”

  Roy watched helplessly as Neil’s orange Biomag was dumped into the open bag.

  “Mr. President…” he began, “Please, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Neil’s fine. See?” Alfred jiggled him up and down, “As long as I hold him close, everything will be fine.”

  •

  Scott Dexter knew that the RF chip inside every Biomag could be used to track its location. To avoid raising suspicion, he’d had to wait until Alfred Barnes had given his permission to access one specific area. He’d been to most locations within the Node but now he finally had a legitimate reason to enter Sub-1 Beta.