The Girl Who Found the Sun

by Matthew S. Cox

  “Okay. For now. We have serious problems with the turbines. First, they’re full of holes. We need to cover them. Second, the CO2 scrubbers aren’t going to last much longer. You know the air outside isn’t as bad as everyone says it is. When I walked in here, you didn’t act at all surprised that I hadn’t melted into a puddle. Someone’s been going out to work on the turbines. I don’t know why it has to be kept secret, and I can’t say for sure what’s going to die first between the turbines or the scrubbers—but something’s going to fail, and fail big, soon.”

  “I’ll take your findings under advisement. For now, please don’t go starting a panic. By all means, inform Benjamin of your observations about the condition of the turbines. I’d ask that you not mention seeing another person out there unless you are absolutely certain of it.”

  She half turned away, gaze downcast. He knows I’m not sure. Some fights are pointless. “Okay. We should really come up with a plan for when the ventilation system fails. The top of that escape passage isn’t too thick. If we knocked out the ceiling to make the opening as big as the shaft, it could serve as an air intake. We’d need to make big fans though… and find another opening to the surface to serve as an exhaust.”

  His grimace gave away honesty in his opinion the outside world remained poisonous to an extent. “As I said, I’ll take it under advisement. Thank you.”

  The excitement she’d experienced at the possibility of there being more humans out there crashed into a pit of dejection. She felt like a kid proud to show off something she made to her father, only to have him laugh and destroy it in front of her. Not that her actual father ever did anything so cruel. Head down, she walked out of his office, no longer certain that she had seen anything but a big flap of metal or plastic fluttering in the wind. Maybe her mind did fill in the details too much. She hated the pressure of believing the Arc contained the last of humanity, the desperation and sorrow of it. Less than 200 people left didn’t bode well for humanity lasting much longer.

  People would likely go extinct soon, even if she had twenty kids.

  9

  Plan B

  All wounds heal given enough time. Even the ones you want to hold on to. – Ellis Wilder.

  Raven’s mood improved from glum to normal by the time she reached the engineering room.

  She paused by her workstation to unburden herself of the tool satchel, scarf, and goggles. Lark stared at her with an expression as if she’d seen a ghost, not saying a word as Raven walked past her to Ben who stood in the corner with a mug, observing a control panel of glowing LEDs and gauges. At her approach, he glanced over his shoulder, blinked, then hurriedly set his coffee down so he could grasp both her shoulders.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Fine.” She tolerated him looking her over, not that he could see much more than her face and poncho. “Nothing melted. The air’s fine. Forget it. We have a big problem.”

  He stood there in silence listening to her explain the condition of the windmill turbines and the towers. Her tarp suggestion went over well… the backup plan to consider how to pull in outside air, not so much.

  “Wait.” Raven held a hand up after he got into a mode of continuously shaking his head.

  “There’s nothing to discuss here. We need to—”

  She shot him the same look she used on Tinsley whenever the girl misbehaved.

  Ben set his hands on his hips, but stopped talking.

  “It’s going to happen during our lifetime. Most likely within a few years. What reality would you rather be in, one where everything craps out and we’re standing here with our pants down or one where we’ve already got a system in place and only need to flip a switch not to die?”

  “What you’re suggesting is so out there…” He turned away, swiped his mug up in one hand, and took a giant gulp.

  She walked around to stand in front of him. “If we do nothing, when the day comes the scrubbers or the generators die, we won’t have time to work on a way to pull air in. Assuming it doesn’t happen when most people are asleep and we all die not knowing it failed, we’ll be lucky to have enough breathable air for everyone to survive long enough to make it outside.”

  Lark gasped.

  “What are you more afraid of?” Raven looked at her. “Staying down here knowing you will suffocate, or believing me that the air is better outside than we have right now?”

  “It’s dangerous out there,” said Lark in a hesitant voice.

  “It’s dangerous down here.”

  Ben cleared his throat. “There’s a small problem with your idea. If the windmills suffer a catastrophic failure, there won’t be any power to run whatever system we come up with to move air. Besides, we don’t have the resources to fabricate anything of that scale.”

  “The power issue is certainly a problem, but a bunch of fans don’t draw anywhere near the kind of juice the CO2 scrubbers need. There are nine fans involved in pushing air up to level one and no one is ever there. We reposition them, pull in some fans from the empty outer residence halls, and we’re set.”

  “What about tunneling?” He smirked. “Moving dead air around inside isn’t going to help.”

  “Easy. Open the front door.”

  Ben laughed.

  “Why are you laughing?” She folded her arms. “If the plan is already to draw in outside air, it’s not like we need to keep it sealed. Use the escape passage as an exhaust. Air comes in through level one, and we pump it out from level three.”

  “What about four to six?” Ben tapped a finger against his mug.

  “Simple enough to create an airflow to four. Five is already empty, so is most of six. It’s all manufacturing facilities we can’t even use anymore. Okay, the water processing is on level six, but that’s a relatively small subsection. We already move air to it. The only thing we really need to change is primary intake and exhaust.”

  “How long have you spent thinking about this? Sounds like you’ve worked everything out.”

  “About twenty minutes. It’s not exactly rocket science.”

  He tilted his head. “What?”

  “Oh, umm. Something a character said in a book. Means it’s not difficult. Rocket science is supposed to be really hard.”

  “What’s a rocket?” asked Lark.

  “Something with space.” Raven bit her lip. “I think.”

  Ben exhaled. “Let’s see how things go over the next couple weeks.”

  “You should really go out there yourself and look at the turbines.”

  “Umm. Yeah…” Ben chuckled and raised his mug to his lips, but paused before drinking. “Maybe if you last a week without growing a third arm, I’ll consider it.”

  “Grr.” She almost yelled at him for being superstitious, but the Saints had died out there. The people’s fear of topside did have a basis in fact. Perhaps fact from decades ago, but still fact. “Fine. What about the tarps? Am I doing that myself?”

  “You’re really willing to go right back outside?” asked Lark.

  “Yes, dammit. It’s fine.” Raven raked her hands through her hair. “Turbine fourteen has a huge hole in the top of the housing. Rain can get right into the transmission gears. It’s going to be a giant pain in the ass to tarp that thing alone, but I’ll try.”

  Lark stood. “I’ll go.”

  Both Ben and Raven stared at her in shock.

  “Seriously?” asked Ben. “Two hours ago, you almost fainted from us talking about going outside.”

  “She’s right. We can’t let rain get inside the turbines or they’ll short out. If the power dies, we’re doomed. And, here she is after going outside. Just fine. She obviously went outside because we’re getting power from number fourteen again.”

  “Go for it.” Ben waved in a ‘be my guest’ manner. “Plenty of tarps in storage.”

  Raven started for the door. “We’re only going to cover number fourteen right now. Surveying the rest and getting them protected from the weather is a big project.” She
paused, looking back. “Oh, do you have any idea who’s been greasing them? Number fourteen has relatively fresh lubrication.”

  “Uhh.” He froze, making a face like a fish out of water. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

  “I know what I saw. Lark will back me up after she sees it.” Raven lowered her voice to keep it in the room. “Noah knows who it is. Someone’s going out there to maintain them, and it’s not from our group.”

  “If that’s true,” said Lark, “why would they have you go out there to fix number fourteen instead of having this secret person do it?”

  Raven stared at the glowing control panel on the far end of the room, unable to come up with a good explanation for that.

  “They’re dead,” said Ben barely over a whisper.

  “You knew?” Raven whirled on him.

  “Nah.” He stared into his mug, swirling the contents. “I’m guessing. You’re right. If people have been going out there regularly, they would have fixed it already. The only reason I can think of for Noah to let us handle it is that the mysterious tech is dead.”

  Lark shifted her weight side to side. “What would’ve killed them if the air’s okay?”

  A fleeting image of the figure behind the glint came to mind. Could someone have been observing the windmill farm on the lookout for people? Possible, but she’d been out there for a good while after seeing someone—maybe someone—move. Anything could have happened to this theoretical secret tech that didn’t involve violence, including a fatal fall from a windmill.

  “When you reported the failure to Noah, it’s not like he could’ve told you not to worry about it without you figuring out he had someone out there.” Lark rummaged a filter mask out of her satchel and put it on, then exhaled hard. “I can’t believe I agreed to do this. Come on. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

  Ben raised his mug in toast.

  “Welcome to come with us.” Raven grinned.

  “Thanks, but, someone’s gotta stay behind to fill out the log sheets.” He winked. “It’s rough work, but I’m willing to do it.”

  10

  Under Wraps

  I wonder if the guy who invented plastic realized he’d created the engine of humanity’s destruction. – Ellis Wilder.

  Raven led the way down a hall on level four to the storage rooms. The Arc had many storage rooms, though these days, they held mostly empty space. Pallets of raw materials for various manufacturing processes once filled them. Those pallets had almost all been wrapped in tarps or other protective packaging. Her father always used to say that plastic represented the closest humanity would ever get to creating immortality. The stuff lasted forever. It used to be recycled, but that stopped decades ago, likely due to the toxic byproducts being too much for the air system to handle anymore.

  In addition to spare bolts, another thing they had no shortage of in the Arc was tarps or plastic sheets. Some people even wore clothes made out of them. Not the most comfortable garment material, and it didn’t breathe. Plastic ponchos would keep the rain off, but no one had to worry about that down in the tunnels.

  She and Lark hunted down a giant blue tarp that appeared adequate to cover a windmill body. The one they ended up choosing had metal eyelets around the edges, perfect for securing it in place using cord.

  From there, they headed upstairs and across to the security station at the end of the admin corridor. Raven went there first, assuming the door to the escape tunnel would be locked. Five security officers, including Ann and Jose, looked up at them when they entered.

  “Need to run outside again for a little while. Big holes in the turbine we have to cover before it rains.”

  The security team exchanged looks, probably trying to figure out if this excursion fell under Noah’s original permission or not. Lauren, the current administrator of the security group, picked up a desk phone and pushed a button.

  “Yes, this is Lauren. That Raven girl wants to go outside again. Something about covering the turbine.” Her eyebrows notched up in an expression of surprise. “All right. Thanks.” She set the phone down while nodding at Jose. “It’s okay. Let ’em go out.”

  “Whoa, they’re both going out?” Jose stood, gesturing at them.

  “Yeah. Covering a wind turbine with a tarp isn’t a one-person job but it’s easy,” said Raven. “It’s going to take us longer to get out there than actually do it. We’ll be back soon.”

  A gurgling noise came from Lark’s stomach.

  “Wow. Okay.” He whistled, grabbed a key, and walked with them out into the corridor.

  By the time they reached the door, Lark trembled visibly. Raven tried to act overly confident to reassure her, grinning at Jose on the way past the door. The whoosh-hiss of Lark breathing faster and faster in the filter mask echoed off the walls behind her.

  “Seriously, you don’t have to be this scared. The stuff on the walls lies. Don’t believe them. Look at me. I was outside for two hours. You know my father went back and forth many times.”

  “He died, though,” replied a muffled voice. A pause. “Sorry.”

  “If he fell off a tower and broke his neck, it’s not poison in the air that got him.”

  Lark walked a few steps before saying, “True.” A moment later, she added, “You’re not wearing a filter.”

  “I’m not. Doesn’t it seem silly to you?”

  “Not really. I don’t like breathing poison.”

  Raven hefted the bundled tarp higher onto her shoulder. “Think about it. These filter masks are as old as everything else here. They probably stopped working years ago. Even if they were new, most people believe going outside causes instant melting. Exactly what good would a filter mask do to stop that?”

  “Uhh…” Lark stopped walking. “Not much.”

  “C’mon. We’ll be fine.” She cringed a little. Most times a character in a novel said ‘we’ll be fine,’ everyone ended up dead.

  When they reached the empty elevator shaft, Raven pointed at the ladder and explained the climb. They tied the tarp into a bundle and hung it from Lark’s waist. The woman might’ve been thirteen years older, but she also had Raven by four inches and about fifty pounds, most of it muscle.

  Raven climbed first. “Oh, I gotta warn you.”

  “I knew it.”

  “No, nothing bad. It’s gonna be super bright out there. Hurts the eyes for a while. Don’t flip out, okay? It passes.”

  “Brighter than the hydroponic room?”

  “A little, yeah.”

  “Wow.” Lark whistled.

  The wheel on the hatch opened easily. Raven squinted in anticipation of daylight and shoved the metal slab up and open. Lark screamed past a clenched jaw when daylight hit them, sounding more like she’d stubbed her toe on something than had the hell scared out of her. Raven, momentarily blinded, climbed out by feel, then turned to reach back for her companion.

  “Keep climbing, I got you.”

  Lark advanced two rungs.

  Raven grasped her hand and held on as the woman climbed out onto the surface.

  They sprawled there waiting for their eyes to adjust, the tarp still dangling in the shaft on the rope tied around Lark’s waist. It seemed less bright than before. As soon as she could do so without flinching, Raven gazed up at the sky.

  Is it turning night or is the weather getting worse?

  Lark murmured something unintelligible.

  “What? It’s hard to understand you with the mask on.”

  “I said holy shit!” half-yelled Lark. “Are those plants? What are they doing out here?”

  “Growing.” Raven grinned, stood, and pulled Lark to her feet.

  Despite having a modestly darker complexion than Raven, somehow, Lark seemed paler. Her long straight hair drifted sideways in the wind. Evidently, the sensation of a breeze on her face that didn’t come from a fan so shocked the woman that she did nothing but stand there watching her hair for a while.

  “You okay?” asked Raven, pulling at the rop
e to bring the tarp up out of the shaft.

  “This is so surreal.” Lark turned in place. “Totally not what I expected would be out here.” When she faced the windmill farm, she stopped short and gasped. “Wow. They’re huge!”

  Raven grasped the hatch to close it. “Check this out. The gasket’s disintegrated. Outside air has been leaking in already for years.”

  “Ack!” Lark clutched her filter mask in both hands, pressing it tighter to her face. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. I mean, that’s an isolated hallway with no ventilation system. But look around. Plants. If being outside killed, there wouldn’t be plants.”

  Lark exhaled. “I guess.”

  “C’mon. You’re freaking out already. Let’s get this done and go back inside.”

  “Good plan.”

  They picked the tarp bundle up together and hurried across the dirt field. As soon as they went far enough to see the skeletons, Lark screamed.

  “They’re dead. They can’t hurt you,” said Raven.

  Lark dropped to her knees. “The Saints.”

  “They’re only people. Brave people who willingly died to keep the rest of us alive.”

  “They… melted,” whispered Lark.

  “Looks that way, yeah.” Raven pulled at the tarp bundle. “Come on.”

  “I don’t want to melt.”

  Raven sighed. “Do you have any idea how long ago they died?”

  “Umm.” Lark looked between the skeleton and Raven a few times before standing. “No. I’ve heard everything from eighty years to two hundred.”

  “Has to be closer to two centuries.” Raven gestured around. “Poison that can melt people in environmental suits would destroy plants. Stay calm. There’s nothing out here to worry about, except falling off the tower or getting hit in the head by a chunk of metal.”

  Lark picked up her end of the tarp and hurried along behind her. “What? Falling metal?”

  “Take a good close look at the tower when we get there.”