“What is this?” he breathed heavily; his rage barely contained behind gritted teeth.
“This…” she put his Biomag into her pocket, “This is fear.”
She walked the few feet to the living room and collected his control tablet.
“You won’t be needing this. But I tell you what…”
She then picked up the carefully positioned decoy underwear from the floor and returned to the bedroom.
“… why don’t I swap it for this...”
She tossed the underwear onto the bed.
Still not daring to move, he quietly hissed, “You bitch!”
“As ever, Mr. President, impressive words,” she collected her snow globe from the table, “but try not to talk. You know the guidelines, stay still while others get help.”
She tucked the tablet into an inner pocket and zipped the jacket closed.
“Who knows,” she opened the door, “Stay still long enough and someone might even find you.”
Stepping out of the room, she quietly closed the door behind her and hurried across the Observatory level. Skirting around the telescope’s shrouded cylinder, she arrived at the balcony that overlooked the Node’s vast interior.
It was actually happening, she thought, it would only need her signal to set it all in motion. She desperately hoped the others were ready.
She cradled the snow globe in her hand and stared at the tiny people inside, cheerfully drowning in an airless bubble. Their every water-filled breath swirling with artificial snow.
It was time for it all to end.
Fuelled by the adrenaline coursing through her veins, she backed away from the balcony and lowered the snow globe to her side. Each heartbeat urging her onward, she sprinted forwards and hurled the snow globe over the balcony into the air beyond.
Almost in slow motion, gravity took hold of it and she watched as the transparent bubble sailed on through open space.
BUBBLE
8th October 2175
The transparent bubble sailed on through open space.
For the occupants of the Eridanus, nestled at its centre, two years had passed since the Orion drive had pushed them away from Earth. However, Lana knew the date was merely another adopted convention; something offering a faint continuity with the world they’d left behind.
On her desk stood a hand-whittled matryoshka, a first anniversary present from her husband. Although Ivan had laboured many hours to ensure that each doll was seamlessly contained within the next, she preferred to have each of the layers visible, rather than concealed. The three painted Russian Dolls were proudly displayed next to their wedding photo. Even now, she couldn’t tell if his proposal had truly been his own free will or an unexpected side effect of Fai’s hibernation bay audio guidance. In any case, she knew that people couldn’t be persuaded to do something that was inconsistent with their behaviour.
She straightened the photo frame and leaned back in her chair. In the grand scheme of things, she thought, perhaps it no longer mattered; her feelings for him were real and they were both happy.
She heard his footsteps approach from behind her and he placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Ready?” he kissed the top of her head.
“Da,” she patted his hand then levered herself out of the chair.
They made their way out of the house and walked through the small garden. Ivan’s roses were now flourishing and their vegetable patch was a chessboard of different crops, all growing towards the warm sunlight that streamed down from the permanent noon.
Turning northward, away from the closed end of the cylinder, they began their stroll to the transit point. The gravity-inducing spin of the Eridanus was quite slow so the Coriolis effects were hardly noticeable. Even without her exo-limbs, Lana found it easy to walk parallel to the central axis and suffer no dizzying inner ear effects. Attempting the same thing on the ISS hamster wheel had always been a little tricky.
“I know that Dot Pittman was to blame for a lot of stuff,” Ivan began.
Lana half laughed in recognition of the declassified data, but she felt him squeeze her hand.
“Sorry, go on,” she said as they continued walking.
“I was only young,” he continued, “But I do remember her telling me that I’d never be alone.”
“And she was right,” she squeezed his hand in return, “You’re not alone.”
“Which means you’re not either,” he smiled, “Why don’t I go with you?”
“It’s OK,” she patted at her bag, “This is something I have to do myself.”
Ivan nodded and stayed quiet until the transport stopped next to them.
“I’ve just remembered,” he said as the doors slid open, “I need to pick up some important files. Why don’t I come with you as far as Greenwich Hub?”
Ivan’s attempt at a poker face was terrible.
“Liar,” she smiled and pushed him ahead of her onto the carriage.
The transport took them northwards then cut east, following the gentle curvature of the cylinder. Like old compass directions, the terms ‘east’ and ‘west’ had been adopted as a matter of convenience; as on Earth, both directions ultimately met up.
Even before the cylinder had been terraformed, a deep trench had run around the circumference, broken in one place by a smaller circular feature. It was on this raised land, where East met West, that the Greenwich Hub had been built. The new world ran to the rhythm of a single clock so, unlike its earthly namesake, Greenwich no longer represented a centre for world time. If anything, it now represented a centre of world gravity.
The carriage doors slid open and the imposing tower presented itself; a wide-footed building that seemed to get lost in the glare of the overhead sun. Being situated at the cylinder’s halfway mark, it was also a gateway point between North and South; people appeared to move with purpose as they commuted between both sides of the equator.
Lana and Ivan disembarked from the carriage and they walked up the gently curving slope.
“You’ll collect Raven?” she asked him.
“Of course I will,” he nodded.
“Don’t forget, nursery school closes an hour early today,” she reminded him.
“Oh really?” he said sarcastically, pointing at the bunting that decorated the nearby street-beacons, “Is there something special going on today?”
“See you soon,” she kissed him goodbye and hitched up her shoulder bag again, “You should go and collect your important files.”
“My files?” he frowned, but then recognised she was referring to his earlier bluff and a smile spread over his face, “Actually, now that I think about it… I think I might’ve left them at home.”
He winked and backed away.
“We’ll be waiting for you,” he waved and walked back towards the transit point.
After presenting her Biomag to the appropriate reader, Lana’s identity was confirmed and she proceeded through to the busy main concourse. Underfoot, the polished lunar rock reflected the surrounding offices. The stairs to the upper levels seemed populated with those who were eager to be there. A purposeful, industrious enthusiasm seemed to fill the space.
Approaching an archway, she slowed her pace and then stood underneath it. After a few seconds, a green light declared that access was granted to the empty main elevator. She walked in and the doors closed, sealing out the general hubbub.
“Hello, Lana,” Fai’s voice greeted her as a seat folded out of the elevator wall.
“How are the preparations?” she sat down.
“Proceeding in accordance with the given schedule,” she replied, “Please fasten your harness.”
Around the elevator, the electromagnetic tracks began to pulse. There was a slight bump and for a few seconds the elevator simply sat on an invisible bubble of magnetic repulsion. With nothing more than a damped vibration under her seat, she felt the elevator begin to rise. Riding a ripple of magnetism, she left the surface behind.
Rising
up through the building, she swiftly shot through glazed offices and meeting spaces, the personnel within appearing not to notice the elevator’s passing. As she progressed, the floors became less populated until eventually they were only occupied by fabricators continuing their assembly work. Suddenly those levels swept out of view and, between the elevator’s vertical tracks, she could see the entire cylinder stretching into the distance; the northern-most point dominated by the black circle of space beyond the Field.
She felt her fingers tighten their grip on the seat; a primitive reaction to the fear of falling. She forced herself to let go and noticed that her hands didn’t fall to her sides in the same way. Although she was only a few hundred metres off the ground, gravity was already beginning to diminish. She knew that the only reason she was still in her seat was because of the force from the elevator beneath her.
She could hear the frequency of the electromagnetic pulses was also beginning to slow; the higher she climbed, the less energy was required to push the elevator towards the point of zero gravity. At this height, the weight of the electromagnetic tracks surrounding the elevator also needed less structural support from below. As the tracks thinned, even more of the world’s landscape became visible.
Forests, lakes and even inland seas were spread out before her. Once-grey lunar cliffs had been tamed by greenery; their lower gravity plateaus now dotted with small villages. Vibrant towns nestled between the valleys, mountains and ploughed farmlands. Throughout the world, clinging to its curved surface, were glazed tropical biomes; sparkling like bright beads of water.
“Deceleration,” Fai reported.
Lana felt a slight upward jolt. The elevator continued moving upwards, but under the effects of momentum only. The elevator would soon slow, but before gravity could reassert itself, she would arrive at the central axis and become weightless.
As she continued to slow, protective sunlight shields came into view on either side of the elevator and support stanchions masked the landscape view.
“Lana, we are about to change orientation,” said Fai, “Please prepare for axial transport.”
On cue, the elevator followed the track and curved their trajectory away from a vertical ascent into a horizontal transport along the axis of the cylinder. The sunlight disappeared immediately as they passed into its dark, hollow interior. Although the Eridanus was pressurised throughout the volume, Lana still found herself stretching her jaw to relieve the slight pressure drop that had happened during her ascent; the air was very slightly thinner at the axis.
As the elevator journey continued, she would occasionally catch brief glimpses of the axial workspaces. White-looking rooms, designed for zero-gravity research, would flash by in the darkness. She also passed through the neighbouring detention units; a short axial section that currently contained only Dr. Chen. Under a minute later she felt another deceleration and the elevator was brought to a stop.
When the doors opened, she fought the impulse to hold her breath and tried to breathe normally. She’d forgotten how quiet it was up here; no hint of noise reached her from the thin layer of humanity below.
Bracing herself against the elevator, she awkwardly pushed herself over to the open airlock of the ISS that was still docked with the Eridanus central axis. With considerable effort, she eventually managed to haul herself inside.
The thought crossed her mind that the first time she’d entered the ISS, it had been after Eva Gray had caused the destruction of the Moon. Yet now, a cylindrical portion of that same Moon was their slowly rotating home.
The artificial gravity provided by their continuous spin was absent up here, so it took her a few moments to readjust to the weightless environment. Pushing between handholds, she made her way through the ISS central axis modules.
Each segment still seemed familiar, but some had necessarily been powered down, making her navigation a controlled drift through patches of darkness. Like her own memories, she thought, some portions were now more brightly lit than others.
Ahead of her, the cupola lay in shadow; stripped of its equipment, only the circular window arrangement remained. The view beyond its glazing, however, had changed irrevocably. In comparison to the last time she was here, the landscape far below was almost unrecognisable. If she looked carefully, she could see the lights of New Houston. Although Eva’s destructive actions were beyond comprehension, those same actions had led them here.
Time and change, she thought. Still taking in the wide view, she placed her bare hand against the cupola’s cold glass one last time. Apes had once extended their hands to a star-filled sky; time and change had altered that perspective too.
With a gentle flex of her hand she pushed herself away, leaving only her fingerprints on the glass. She found herself smiling; the marks may one day become some of the furthest-travelled fingerprints in human history.
Drawing a deep breath, she emerged into the central axis and focussed on the present. Like so many of their previous endeavours, time and timing were always critical. The ISS separation sequence would be no different.
“Time to divergence?” Lana spoke to the air.
“One hour, thirteen minutes, six seconds,” Fai replied through a tinny sounding speaker panel nearby.
The modules in front of Lana were now fully occupied by Fai’s updated quantum-state computational array, so the furthest module containing Miles Benton was no longer visible. Even though Lana couldn’t understand the theory, she knew that long after the ISS separated from the Eridanus, Fai would continue the relentless task of trying to save him.
“Fai, assuming that your transcription works, will Miles have access to everything we’ve achieved here?”
“Yes, Lana,” Fai confirmed, “Like us, he will also have access to everything that my other iterations recorded before we left Earth.”
“A good legacy,” Lana nodded and reached into her bag.
The moment seemed right to her.
As per Cathy’s last will and testament, her ashes were to be added to those of her husband and placed aboard the departing ISS.
Mike had died on Earth, but Cathy had survived him. Before succumbing to old age, she’d regaled the Eridanus youngsters with their remarkable journeys. Lana always found that she could easily imagine them looking as youthful as the day they’d left for Earth. It was how she chose to remember them both now: alive, well and living together in the past.
She secured their urn to the side of the currently inactive ISS Field generator and slowly pushed herself towards the exit.
She didn’t know what the future held, but she felt a renewed desire to spend her present days, however fleeting, with those she loved. Sealing the ISS hatch closed for the last time, she headed back towards the elevator. An underlying truth seemed to reach her more easily in this isolated end of the world: all anyone really had was a tiny bubble of ‘now’.
When the Divergence Day celebrations began, she wanted her ‘now’ to be with Ivan and Raven.
DIVERGENCE
Beyond the window, Miles saw a new piece of information arrive. He’d seen representations of the ISS before, but this one was clearly different. The Alpha, Beta and Gamma modules were absent, but attached to either side of the central modules were rocket boosters. Boosters that had once lifted people away from Earth to rendezvous with the Eridanus.
In alignment with the cylinder’s central axis, the reconfigured ISS was moving away from the open end of the Eridanus.
“There’s no active Field?” Miles double checked.
“Only the time-neutral ones surrounding the entranceway. They were used to create an airlock so that -”
“Yes, yes,” Miles interrupted, “maintaining atmosphere. So you and I were aboard the ISS when it departed from the Eridanus?”
“Yes.”
“So we all shared a common time frame?”
“Briefly.”
The view changed to show the Eridanus from the perspective of the ISS.
The open end of the cylinder was visible and slowly receding. Inside the main structure of the cylinder he could see explosions of light and he instantly felt uneasy.
“Explain,” he demanded.
“Air pollution was strictly monitored, but special dispensation was given to set off a small number of Divergence Day fireworks,” Fai put him at ease, “They wanted to thank you and wish us well on our journey.”
He saw the ISS boosters flare into life and manoeuvring thrusters fire to rid them of the spin imparted by the Eridanus: Miles and Fai did not require artificial gravity. The boosters stopped and, almost instantly, the Eridanus appeared to zoom away.
“ISS Field activation?” Miles guessed.
“Yes, with our course set, I activated an M-Field and our trajectory diverged from theirs.”
The Eridanus was continuing to move away and a sudden loneliness again struck him; his last connection to humanity was aboard a shrinking dot.
“Where did they go?” he managed.
“They followed the original plan to reach Epsilon Eridani.”
“Details.”
“A main sequence star in the constellation of Eridanus, ten point four eight light years from Earth,” Fai explained, “Transit photometry indicates one planet -”
“Fai,” Miles interrupted, “If it takes light over ten years to cover that distance, then it would take the Eridanus much longer, right?”
“Correct.”
“How long will it take Lana and the others to get there.”
“Assuming a continuous use of the Eridanus M-Field, their journey time from the divergence point would be fourteen years, ten months -”
“Clarification,” Miles shook his head, “External to the M-Field, how long will that take?”
“One point nine two million years,” said Fai.
The number was too large for him to take in.
“Miles, please verify your status.”
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