Eva

by Simon Winstanley

  Many decades ago, Tai had attempted to create a nerve interface to help him walk again. The enterprise had been frustrated by a lack of computational processing speed and the fact that his spinal injuries were too severe. More recently, using the advanced fabricator technology and a redesigned biomechanical interface, he’d had greater success. Not for himself, but for her.

  She collected the equipment from his work surface and hung it from the hook on the wall. It would take a minute for the system to initialise, so she used the time to prepare.

  Over the years she’d studied Fai’s extensive Icelandic database; the people who contributed to it, the Exiles, the drone footage of the temporal anomaly, even a video interview with her grandmother, Sabine Dubois.

  Sabine had apparently possessed a keen sense of spacial awareness; before arriving at a place called the USV, she’d often spent time running and jumping across the rooftops of towns and cities, simply for the sheer elation. It seemed that Sabine had passed on the same thrill-seeking traits to her. Here at The Falls, the lower gravity always gave her own athleticism an additional boost while navigating the rooftop spaces at speed.

  She folded up her baggy coat and carefully laid it to rest on Tai’s wheelchair.

  “Thank you,” she said and turned Fai’s old cube to face his bed.

  He’d once told her that evolution was too slow, but they may be able to estimate what its intentions were. The human lifespan wasn’t long enough for evolution to complete its work on her, but with Tai’s help she’d experienced a little of what her descendants may be capable of.

  The equipment hanging on the wall made a gentle beep.

  Opening the back of her shirt a little more, she backed towards the equipment’s interface. She wriggled the mutations on her shoulder blades to guide the rounded, fleshy protrusions into place. The biomechanics surrounded them with an enveloping coolness and she felt a tingle as the fabricator began to communicate with the nerve endings under her skin.

  She clipped the belt into place and stood to lift the lightweight equipment off the wall hook. Walking to the rear of the house, she stepped outside.

  Night had fallen and the cylinder was once more illuminated with beacon lights. She added Tai’s own beacon to the constellations and looked out.

  Soon the two-million-year journey would come to an end. A day from now, they’d begin the operation to slow the Eridanus.

  During the deceleration, the cylinder’s ring-like sea was expected to help smooth out the changes in momentum. However, the consequence of this would be some low-level flooding of the central sections.

  The days ahead would undoubtedly bring upheaval to her cylindrical world but, right now, she had this moment. She activated the equipment on her back and felt the rush of biofeedback.

  Although she knew that Ebony’s life had been tragic, her actions had ultimately resulted in greater recognition for genetic diversity. She had to wonder if Ebony had somehow been making a statement when she’d named her and left her in an aviary biome.

  Focussing her mind on the biomechanical muscles that lay beyond her skin, Raven spread her wings; a flexible framework of flight surfaces that extended from her back and reached beyond the span of her arms. What evolution could not yet provide, she remembered Tai’s words, technology could emulate.

  As she walked through the small garden, she could actually feel the fabricator instantly relaying the nuances of the air resistance that played across her wings. This place had been named The Falls because, in the very early days, people had. But now this place had greater significance for her; only with a fall could there be free flight.

  She ran forward and, as she had done before, leapt over the edge and into the low gravity night; her keen sense of spacial awareness shaping and guiding the air underneath her. Far below her, the towns and rooftops flowed effortlessly under her outstretched hands and feet.

  She flew on among the stars and could see the glass-domed tropical biomes speeding beneath her. She could see the schools that nurtured the minds of the many children. She could also see the onyx-black ring that ran around the cylinder’s circumference; its watery surface reflecting the starlit interior.

  Her wings were not powerful enough to ascend, so the sense of elation never seemed to last long enough. But, despite the brevity of her flight, her privileged perspective allowed her to glimpse something that no-one else could. Framed within the cylinder’s circular aperture, she clearly saw their destination:

  A wide, sapphire-blue planet; beautiful, pristine and new.

  The first probes sent to the planet had reported a breathable atmosphere and Earth-like landmasses. Shadows on some of the images had even suggested the presence of large geometric structures, but she knew they’d have to visit the surface in person to know for sure.

  With a sense of hope filling her extended senses, Raven angled her wings and flew on towards the bright lights of New Houston.

  CAUSEWAY

  2nd January 7142

  Cassidy saw that Atka’s extended hand was inviting her forwards. She turned to Marshall and the others and beckoned them to follow her.

  The rain continued to deposit occasional wide droplets on the sandstone causeway. Nature’s long-term task, she thought, would be to reduce the structure to sand. She walked forwards over the slightly uneven surface and joined Atka’s small group.

  “Exordi Nova,” he pointed to the causeway’s low side wall then touched his forehead.

  Cassidy looked at the wall. The vines that were covering the majority of the causeway were notably absent here. Engraved in the wall, worn by the passage of time, was the broken circle symbol and another glyph that she didn’t recognise.

  “Wow,” Marshall seemed to express her own thoughts.

  “Someone else must be here,” said Roy, looking around at the tree line.

  “What?” Gail held Neil close to her.

  “This whole place is crawling with vines,” he said, “except here. Someone’s been keeping it clear.”

  Scott crouched down and looked at the vegetation, “Doesn’t look like the vines have been cut. But obviously the sign’s supposed to be seen.”

  The faint grumble of distant thunder reached them and another few spots of rain arrived.

  “OK,” Cassidy looked skyward and then at the Discovery, “Why don’t we regroup? Wait for the rain to pass. Try to work out what the hell we’re gonna do?”

  No-one seemed to object to taking shelter, so she headed towards the Discovery.

  “Cassidy.”

  She turned to find that Atka had called to her.

  “Pleez,” he bowed and held out his hand again, wanting her to follow him.

  Perhaps the rain didn’t bother him as much, she thought, but she had no idea how she might explain the idea of waiting inside the Shuttle until the rain passed. She shook her head and hoped that he understood, then turned away again.

  “Cassidy!” his tone was more insistent now.

  He pointed at the signs and then made a physical gesture. He pointed at himself, crossed his arms over his chest and then pointed at her.

  She’d always used that same gesture with her brother, whenever she’d needed to tell him that everything was going to be alright. She’d sent that signal to Tyler through the Node’s observation window just before switching it opaque. Now, thousands of years later, her message was being returned to her: everything was going to be alright.

  “What is it, Cass?” asked Marshall.

  “I can’t explain it,” she said, “but we have to follow him.”

  Marshall looked at the darkening sky and then studied her eyes.

  “You’re sure?” he said.

  She nodded.

  After picking up a few basic supplies from the Discovery and rigging a makeshift baby sling for Roy to carry Neil, they followed Atka along the causeway.

  The further they walked, the more scarce the vines became, presumably because the surrounding salty sea would periodically wash
the causeway. In the absence of greenery, it was more apparent that the parallel tracks in the sandstone surface were heavily worn. Cassidy found it easy to imagine the tracks being used to transport some sort of adventurous looking rocket. Not that the tracks would be any use now, she thought, all the rockets they’d seen were half buried.

  They continued their long walk. The rain didn’t get any heavier, but occasionally they still heard the distant rumbles of thunder.

  “Marshall,” said Fai, “Please place another recube.”

  Like a long line of breadcrumbs, each cube was maintaining a data relay path back to the Discovery. Everyone stopped temporarily while Marshall set another one down.

  “Why build so far out?” Roy complained, adjusting Neil’s sling, “In fact, why build this whole thing out of stone? Surely there would’ve been cheaper ways of doing this?”

  “Maybe cheap wasn’t a factor,” said Scott.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Before it all collapsed, people were leaving here over hundreds of years,” said Scott, “Wood rots, metal rusts. If you’re gonna build something to last, build it out of stone.”

  “Maybe that explains the Egyptian and Mayan pyramids,” said Gail.

  “Or Stonehenge,” Cassidy thought of the photo she’d once seen in Danny’s Trilithon file.

  “We’ve only got a few of these things left,” Marshall held up a recube, “I hope we find something soon.”

  Again, they walked on.

  Night fell and the occasional drops of rain marked the sandstone. Then the causeway simply stopped. In the middle of the sea, the long pathway ended in a wide circular platform.

  In numb dismay, Cassidy found herself walking across the platform, hoping to find some sense of meaning. She stepped down into the platform’s lower inset circle and walked to the centre. Other than the same broken circle emblem engraved in the stone, there was nothing here.

  Their entire journey had come to a dead end.

  Beyond the central disk lay only the sea and the night sky. Over the distant horizon, a steep diagonal band of lunar debris was rising; its sparkling line was interrupted in one place by a denser concentration of lunar rock. Beyond that lay only the distant stars.

  As if imitating her inner thoughts, a grumble of thunder reached her and the rain drops seemed to arrive faster. She let loose a long and guttural roar, but it failed to fully drain her anger and frustration.

  “Hey,” Marshall’s quiet voice came from her side.

  “I was so sure!” she turned to him.

  “I know,” he smiled, wiping the rain from his face, “let’s go back.”

  She looked back at the others standing on the causeway. The rain there appeared to be falling more heavily than on the platform itself.

  “What did you say?” she asked him.

  A rumble of thunder now sounded somewhere closer.

  “Let’s go back,” he replied.

  She saw Atka staring at her.

  Multiple connections between the events in her life now seemed to fire all at once. Unaccountably, it also began to dawn on her why the rockets had been allowed to fall into disrepair.

  “Never back…” she realised and looked down at the circular emblem within the stone floor, “Always forwards…”

  She looked over at Atka again and used her finger to draw the shape of Danny’s scar on her own forehead.

  Leading everyone else, Atka and Najo left the causeway behind, stepping down into the platform’s lower inset disk. The collection of bare feet and footwear walking across the floor now highlighted something that she hadn’t noticed before: when compared to the adjoining causeway, the stonework of the circular platform under her feet was still in pristine condition.

  Despite there being no lightning, thunder cracked overhead and a cold wind seemed to come from all sides.

  “Look out!” Roy pointed at the circle’s edge, causing everyone to gather closer to the centre.

  Their lower platform had been gathering rainwater, but now the water had begun to flow outward, as if caught in a centrifuge. The water reaching the platform’s edge disappeared into a polished, onyx-black ring that ran around the circumference.

  A sudden wailing sound joined the buffeting of the wind and she saw Roy and Gail huddle around Neil. Cassidy just had time to exchange a panicked glance with Marshall before it happened.

  As if ejected from the surrounding black ring, a thin wall of water instantly snapped into a bubble shape over their heads; gathering in a single point of bright light above them. All sound disappeared from the world beyond.

  “Marshall, wh-”

  She was interrupted by several rapid flashes of light from above. As she looked up, she could see the view was changing.

  The bright point of light was widening out; like she was standing inside a balloon and watching the neck opening up. The rim of the neck seemed populated by fast-moving streams of shooting stars, giving her the feeling that she was travelling somewhere at great speed; despite having both feet firmly on the ground.

  Looking through the side of their surrounding bubble, she could see that the rain had stopped. In mid-air. Each drop of rain hitting the causeway was frozen in glassy crown shapes.

  The star-filled neck continued to widen, stretching its way down around their bubble and replacing the lunar debris night with a blue glow. Cassidy suddenly had the peculiar sensation that the air had a viscous thickness to it, as though the space around her was somehow being tightly squeezed. As the neck passed the bubble’s widest point, the feeling subsided.

  Beyond the bubble, the dark night sky and shattered Moon had vanished. In its place was bright sunlight.

  For a moment, the surrounding sea remained frozen, then time suddenly resumed. The bubble evaporated into a salt-scented mist and sound returned, filling her ears with the hush of rolling waves.

  Cassidy turned to look behind her, expecting to see the ageing causeway they’d walked along. But, like the lunar debris ring, it too had disappeared. She turned again to look at Marshall and the others.

  Before stepping onto the circular platform, they’d reached a limit; their only other choice would have been to turn back. Now, stretching into the distance across a wide, sapphire-blue sea, a pristine-looking continuation of the causeway lay ready to take them forwards.

  Together, they began walking towards the small structures on the horizon.

  TIMELESS

  ~

  Time did not pass for her, but she studied and often gave help.

  After Mat and Pavna’s ship had crashed, Kate had guided them to find food and shelter. It had been difficult to watch their small group travel north in search of the Discovery; she knew that only their descendants would stumble upon the land-bridged Iceland facility. Intervention wasn’t possible though; without this portion of history, Atka would not have been born.

  She’d also helped the other survivors of the same crash and guided them south. The descendants of those genetically enhanced individuals had eventually exceeded Anna’s Eversion Point Displacement theory.

  It seemed only fitting that Mat and Pavna’s descendants, and Cassidy’s group from the Node, should use Earth’s Stepping Stone together.

  With no-one to witness her actions, she prevented the vines on the causeway from growing over the carved symbols. At the appropriate time, Atka would now remember a gesture used by his distant ancestors to express a deep connection; something that would cause Cassidy to trust and follow him.

  She almost envied their onward journey.

  Looking back across time, she found Marcus Blake. Always the advocate for the oppressed, always ready to give his last: her indestructible ‘Blackbox’.

  He’d been with her right at the start; guiding her away from danger using nothing more than poorly spelt text messages. During her time in the Boundary she’d tried to return the favour by guiding him out of danger, even if he was unaware of it. He would never truly know the effect he’d had on people’s
lives. He would also never know of the genetic revolution that he and Sabine had ultimately brought about; their two lives were now separated by almost one hundred years, a distance that he couldn’t cross.

  Watching him, within one isolated moment, she could see that he was happy. She therefore chose to remember him this way.

  Leaving behind his shining strand of history, she returned to her overview of the timelines. The strangely shaped external interventions that hung in her sky were calling to her.

  Thanks to her studies, the unusual formations were now less of a mystery, but her decision was no easier to make. She could feel a faint echo pulling at her; evolution’s quiet but persistent whisper.

  It had once powered the drive to leave the deepest oceans in favour of the dry land above. It had persuaded primitive creatures to escape danger by ascending the trees. It had even persuaded mankind to escape threat by ascending to the stars.

  Ultimately though, each new ascendance always reached a limit, a final decision branch that contained only one choice: to accept the consequences of a limitation, or to make a leap towards the unknown.

  She had been faced with this decision before entering the Boundary.

  In these final moments, she must now make a different choice.

  Not if she would leave, but how she would leave.

  She took a final look at the timelines that she’d helped to form. Her legacy. There was nothing more that she wanted to achieve.

  She set her sights on one of the temporal formations that had been placed here for her; a double helix, wrapped around a circle, broken in one place by a pulsating point of light.

  Leaving behind the last evolutionary branch, she leapt.