Eva

by Simon Winstanley

  “Bloody hell,” he stared in amazement, “You’ve been turning it into a submarine dock.”

  “No,” she pointed to the inflatable seal, “we’ve been continuing to turn it into a submarine dock. Like I said, the USV designs seem to have accounted for flooding. If the tunnels had remained dry, we would have left by train.”

  •

  Although he’d dived many times during the travels of the Sea-Bass submarine, he’d never encountered a situation even remotely like this. Yet he had the unaccountable feeling that the problem surrounding him also contained the solution.

  “How the hell do we move a car?” Izzy summarised the issue.

  The car had come to rest with its underside leaning against the wall and airlock door. It they could tip it onto its roof, they could gain access to the USV.

  “Help me,” he said and swam to place himself between the rear of the car and the tunnel wall.

  They braced their backs against the wall and pushed with their legs against the car. Other than leaning slightly, the car simply settled back into the same position as before.

  “What about a lifting jack?” she said, “We could tip it over from underneath.”

  “Good idea but…” he pointed at the car’s mangled rear end, “Even if it carries a jack, we’re not getting in there.”

  Izzy looked over at the carriage wreck in the middle of the tunnel, “Maybe we’ll be luckier over there.”

  “OK,” he said, unclipping a tether from his belt, “Can you constrictor knot this to the car?”

  “Yep,” she took one end and began tying it in place, “don’t want us drifting off.”

  “I’ll head over first,” he told her, “Once I’ve secured the other end -”

  “I’ll follow,” she concluded, pulling the knot tight, “All set.”

  He pushed away from the car and swam in the direction of the carriage. Confirming his earlier analysis, the further he went away from the tunnel wall, the faster the water appeared to flow.

  Instead of heading straight for the carriage he angled himself to swim further upstream. It would take more effort but he hoped that his combined swimming vector and the water’s flow would cancel each other out; with any luck he’d end up opposite Izzy again.

  The carriage ahead of him had obviously suffered a major impact. Through the jagged tear in the metalwork, he could see that the cars inside had been crushed into half their normal space. Having seen things a little closer, it now seemed extremely unlikely that they’d find a car jack. All they really needed though was something to lever the car away from the wall.

  “Look out!” Izzy shouted.

  A flash of something bright flew through his flashlight beam, and instinctively he twisted out of its way. Carried away by the fast-flowing water, the torn item of clothing disappeared into the darkness. In the second it had taken him to recover, he realised that he too was being swept away. He felt the jagged edge of some metalwork scrape against his shoulder and he arrived, face-first, into a flapping piece of fabric. Gripping it tightly, he checked his tether was still in place.

  “I’m OK,” he said, forcing himself to take slower breaths.

  Casting his flashlight around, he could see that he’d been carried downstream to the red and grey tarpaulin they’d seen snagged on the carriage.

  “I’ve still got you!” Izzy shouted, holding onto the tether that was already safely tied to the car.

  “Thanks,” he looked down at the bundled rope clipped at his waist, “The flow’s much stronger than I -”

  A thought interrupted his own reply.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said, “stay there.”

  He hauled himself back along the tarpaulin, firmly knotting his tether into the fabric as he went. Although he couldn’t see the forces at work, he could visualise their patterns; intersecting lines of interaction that could be used to create an imbalance. Climbing a bent ladder that ran up the rear of the carriage, he trailed out his own tether behind him. Reaching the ladder’s summit, he looped the free end around the last rung.

  “Izzy!” he called, “Like we did before!”

  He saw her manoeuvre into position; it seemed that she knew what he was thinking.

  “Ready!” she braced herself against the wall.

  Double-checking the knot he’d tied to his belt, he leapt out through the water. The flow took hold of him, snapping the tether taut and pulling the knot-covered tarpaulin into shape. Like a giant sail unfurling, it billowed open into the fast-moving water.

  “Now!” he yelled.

  As Izzy pushed hard with her feet, his improvised water-sail caught the full force of the water, hauling on the rope that was still attached to the car.

  The imbalance of forces began to tip the car.

  As Izzy continued to scream with effort, he felt the tether jolt in his hand. Glancing ahead of him he saw that the sheer force of the water was ripping the tarpaulin itself away from the train. With another jolt, the rung securing his tether to the ladder gave way and he felt himself getting dragged downstream, swinging wildly outwards to the tunnel’s wall.

  The flow here was of course slower and it allowed him to regain some control. Righting himself, he disconnected the tether and tried to swim back upstream.

  At the furthest extent of his flashlight beam, it seemed that the car was no longer in the same place.

  “Izzy?” he called out.

  •

  Sarah could hear the murmur of the crowd that had gathered outside the Samphire construction site. She tipped Izzy’s bottle of water over Marcus’ head and he rubbed it into his hair. For this to work, she knew that everyone had to believe that Izzy, Marcus and Tristan had come from the outside. It was a gamble though; if they couldn’t open the airlock then Marcus’ presence here would be much harder to explain away.

  She poured the remainder over a wetsuit that lay crumpled at his feet.

  “Ready?” she asked him.

  “No,” he shrugged, stuffing his leather jacket into an empty crate, “but we gotta do this.”

  “OK, Vic,” she spoke into her radio, “Send them in.”

  The far door opened and she was relieved to see that a few of the council members were among the first to arrive. Gordon Dowerty looked hesitant to approach; the last Pittman he’d seen had pulled a gun on him.

  “Gordon,” she called to him, “He’s never going to do that again.”

  He nodded but didn’t answer, he simply joined the others in staring at Marcus who was standing next to the airlock. Soon the small space was filled to capacity. She cleared her throat and addressed them.

  “The USV was built to keep us safe in a time after Siva,” she began, “I know that we’re still a year away from Siva’s arrival, but the lunar shards have put this place through a test. As some of you know, there was a breach at the Glaucus Dock level earlier.”

  From the crowd’s mixed reaction, she could tell this was genuine news for some people.

  “We think the immediate danger is over,” she reassured them, “but we need to begin making swift preparations to reach the other survival sites. Before today, we had no confirmation that any other site had survived…”

  She gestured towards Marcus.

  “That all changed today,” she said, “During the breach, the Glaucus Dock ascent shaft -”

  “You’re that guy!” someone shouted.

  “The network guy from the stairs!” someone else called out.

  Sarah saw things start to unravel.

  “The one working for the Walker traitor!”

  She saw Marcus suddenly step forwards.

  “Monica Walker is not a bloody traitor!” he yelled, and pointed at the USV around them, “She made all this possible! She saved your ungrateful asses.”

  Marcus swiped up the wetsuit from the floor, then clambered onto a crate, so that the stunned crowd could see him.

  “This!” he flapped diving gear in the air, “Th
is is all bullshit! Stories told to you ‘cos it’s more comfortable than the truth. Sorry Sarah, but they’ve gotta know. We talked things over and I was supposed to stand here, and act like I’ve just come in. But it’s just bullshit!”

  Sarah could see the crowd were still listening; it was a departure from what they’d agreed, but he had their attention.

  “I’ve been in here for months,” he admitted, “I’ve seen things get worse for everyone. I’ve seen the executions. Every one of ‘em was my friend. What does it fucking take to wake you people up?! One day it’ll be you, or your kids. You can’t even see that you’re buried alive!”

  He pointed at the personnel airlock.

  “Right now my friends are out there, trying to clear a way out of here! Monica Walker laid the foundation of this place and her last words were warning me to get out! I should’ve listened.”

  She saw that Marcus was pointing in her direction.

  “Pittman’s own daughter was trying to find a way out,” he seemed to be softening her initial escape attempt, “That’s how bad things are. Without her help, you’d all be stuck.”

  The crowd now seemed to get more restless.

  “Why ain’t Pittman himself telling us?” a voice near the back came through.

  Sarah immediately found herself replying, “I placed him under arrest.”

  As the people fell quiet, the airlock door began to cycle open.

  CONTROL

  DAY795 : 02JAN7142

  Standing in Alfred Barnes’ dimly lit apartment, Cassidy stared at the snow globe in her hands; one of her few possessions that she was allowed to keep here.

  The kitsch little house and miniature figures standing inside a glass bubble of fake snow was a continual reminder of the Node’s artificiality. She hated the thing, but that had given her strength. One way or another she wouldn’t be seeing it again after tonight. She placed it back onto the table, then poured some whiskey from Alfred’s decanter into two glasses.

  Although the apartment was not vast, she could see why he’d chosen it; he’d sought an advantageous position that felt safe and was befitting his status. However, she’d seen enough nature videos to know that his choice to move here hadn’t truly been his own.

  The strong evolutionary chain, that he loved to reference so much, had been quietly whispering to him; the impulse to climb high was the product of the thousands of ape generations that had preceded him. His choice had been made for him. That same choice meant that he was also a slave to the chain’s more primitive drives, she just hoped that his intellectual arrogance would prevent him from seeing it.

  To steady her nerves and steel herself for the performance she would put on, she downed the shot of whiskey and refilled her glass. Like Alfred’s other possessions, he’d granted her permission to be in his apartment during his absence. It had allowed her the time to prepare the room for his return.

  The approach of footsteps on the other side of the door, prompted her to get into position. The fact that she could hear only one pair of feet meant that his bodyguard hadn’t accompanied him.

  There was no going back.

  The door opened and she could see his silhouette framed within the doorway. Behind him, the Node’s grey-lit Observatory deck illuminated the tarpaulin-covered telescope.

  She saw him reach for the light switch and then stop when he found the note that she’d stuck in place.

  “Shh!” she whispered.

  He peeled the small square of paper from the switch and closed the door. Slowly approaching her, he held out her ‘No’ note.

  “Instructions?” he smiled.

  “I told you this morning that I wanted to try something new, remember?” she swapped the note in his hand for a glass of whiskey, “Drink.”

  He seemed hesitant to comply. It wasn’t surprising though; she knew he was suspicious by nature. She also knew it didn’t matter. This was to establish his trust.

  She gave a slight shrug, downed his whiskey and turned to pick up her own full glass.

  “Hey!” he reacted, “Do you know how rare that -”

  “Drink,” she interrupted him, handing him her glass and holding him with a soft stare, “I’m worth it.”

  This time he complied, first taking a sip, then draining the contents. She took his empty glass and set it aside, then tilted her head towards the sofa a few feet away.

  “Sit down and turn on the light.”

  Not taking his eyes off her, he backed away. After sitting down, he turned on the dim table lamp. The orange light did little to illuminate the room but she knew exactly the effect it would produce for him.

  His appraising eyes wandered all over her. Despite the thigh-length silvery jacket’s heat, she did her best not to shiver.

  “Do you like what you see?” she asked, pushing her pink hair out of her eyes.

  He relaxed further back into the sofa and nodded.

  “Is that the only thing you’re wearing?” his gaze slid down over her thighs and calves. From his reaction, she could tell that he’d just seen the pink underwear that she’d carefully positioned around her ankles. He would probably realise her next words were intentionally cheap and tawdry, but she had the feeling it wouldn’t matter.

  “Mmm,” she pulled the zip on the front of the jacket a little lower, “but all this foil is making me so hot.”

  The jacket was making her hot, but not for the overtly sexual reason she’d just suggested.

  Walking slowly towards his bedroom, she beckoned for him to follow. In his eagerness, she saw him leave his control tablet behind. She knew from Roy that once the RF chip in Alfred’s Biomag was separated from the tablet by more than a few feet, it would automatically lock. Something she was counting on.

  She led him into the darkened bedroom and stood to one side so he could see her intentions.

  Proclaiming their active status, the lights above six tripod-mounted Biomags cast their red glow onto the bed at their centre.

  She drew closer to him, allowing him to smell the perfume that he liked her to wear. She’d prepared the words ahead of time so that she could perform them correctly, but even as she whispered them, the lie felt bitter on her tongue.

  “These things get between us,” she looked at the Biomag hanging around his neck, then pressed herself close to him, “I want to feel you…”

  His smile told her that he understood; with tripod Biomags surrounding them, they wouldn’t need to wear a single thing.

  On previous occasions she’d excused herself while he undressed, using the shower room to mentally prepare herself for what would come next. Tonight though, she couldn’t risk letting him out of her sight; she would have to feign interest.

  “Take off your shirt,” she instructed him and he complied.

  To speed matters along, but mostly to avoid eye contact, she stripped him of his lower garments. She had to keep telling herself that it was the very last time she would be near this man.

  “Now lie back,” she guided him into the red glow on the bed sheet and then straddled his lower legs.

  “How am I going to reach you down there?” he played with the Biomag chain around his neck.

  “Shh…” she inched forwards, her heart in her throat; the moment was fast approaching. She unzipped the neck of the jacket a little more and leaned forward, “Unzip me. Take off my Biomag.”

  He slowly reached up but then stopped.

  “You’re trembling…” he spoke in a low tone.

  Thinking quickly, she replied truthfully.

  “The anticipation…” she breathed, then leaning down towards his outstretched hands she whispered, “take it.”

  She felt his hands making contact with her jacket; one hand holding the silvery fabric, while the other began slowly pulling down the zip.

  Exactly as she’d intended, both his hands were now occupied. But she didn’t act immediately. She wanted him to suffer a split second of recognition before she took control away from him.

 
; As he continued lowering her zip, she watched his eyebrows lowering too; a mild confusion that steadily deepened. Suddenly the frown disappeared and his eyes widened. The realisation had hit him: under the jacket, she was still fully clothed. He’d been so preoccupied by his own hands that he hadn’t been watching hers. As his eyes locked onto hers, she tightened her grip on his Biomag and yanked hard with all her might.

  The thin chain went taut and snapped, sending her rolling off the lower end of the bed and into the bedroom wall. But she’d been prepared for it and scrambled to her feet instantly. She slapped at the main light switch and filled the room with light; any semblance of warm intimacy was instantly replaced with the cold light of her betrayal. With his Biomag still clutched in her hand, she turned to face her tormentor.

  Completely naked and impotent, he lay frozen in place, eyes wide in absolute terror as he drew slow shallow breaths. She saw his eyes dart to one of the nearby Biomag tripod units.

  “They’re fake!” she spat at him, “But go ahead, move just one fucking inch.”

  His eyes were now scanning her face, desperately searching for signs of a lie. She knew he’d find none. When Scott had discovered the damaged Biomag components in Sub-1 Beta, he’d also found empty casings; the six units surrounding the bed contained only the batteries that lit the red lights. In the room’s bright glare, it was now obvious that their small LCD displays were completely inert.

  She unzipped the jacket to display her shorts, fully functional Biomag, and Marshall’s faded ‘No FeAr’ T-shirt. She could see him frantically trying to piece together everything that she’d put in place.

  Marshall had first devised the concept after seeing a foil-lined bag during an illegal DRB trade. The sparkly garment that Gail had subsequently made for her was essentially a flexible Faraday cage, capable of shielding radio frequencies. Within the closed foil-like jacket, the Node’s RF tracking system would be unable to locate Cassidy. More importantly, it was impossible for Barnes to explosively target her Biomag.