The Bridge

by Simon Winstanley

  Sabine could see that it was quite within her ability to jump down the short distance, but things were different now. She turned and fastened the last few buttons of Ebony’s padded coat, then made sure she knew to hold on tight while she climbed down the ladder.

  Within a few minutes their small group had transferred from the Sea-Bass to the ARC’s exterior airlock. From Sabine’s perspective, the docking room was now a floor above them, and she could see Lucy walking around the Glaucus mechanism.

  “OK,” Lucy called down to them, “Are your tablets set for sync?”

  “Check,” Noah and Tessa replied together.

  “Fai, are you ready?” Lucy seemed to speak to the air within the docking room.

  “Yes, would you like me to initiate the process?”

  Sabine saw both Mat and Pavna give a thumbs-up signal.

  “Fai,” Lucy tapped at her own tablet, “please begin transfer.”

  “Initiating. Standby.”

  Years had passed since the A.I. program had first addressed Sabine by name, but she would never forget it. Resident inside a surveillance drone within the Sea-Bass’ docking room, Fai had thanked her for removing the scarf she’d tied around its camera.

  Given the events that had unfolded within the USV, it was understandable why her distrust of flying drones had persisted. But over the intervening years, she’d grown to see Fai as a separate, even helpful, entity. Undoubtedly, Fai’s inhuman patience had helped her to gain a fuller understanding of the English language.

  Both tablets emitted a single beep, followed by two separate voices speaking in unison.

  “Iteration one transfer complete.”

  “Iteration two transfer complete.”

  Mat laughed aloud.

  “Congratulations, Fai, it’s twins!”

  Sabine found herself smiling along with everyone else, but Fai made an interruption.

  “Your biological analogy is in error,” the voice echoed from the room above them, “Unlike myself, these iterations are not clones of the original Iceland program. They are simplified facets of my core program and will be reabsorbed after their data acquisition is complete.”

  “But they’re so cute,” Mat teased.

  “Fai,” said Lucy, “disregard Mat’s attempt at humour.”

  “Understood,” said Fai, “Extended metaphor failure.”

  “Ooh,” Mat laughed, “Harsh… So what do we call them?”

  “When you depart from here you may address each of the tablets as Fai.”

  “Won’t that be a bit confusing?” asked Noah.

  “No, the iterations will accompany two separate teams. The naming approximation is for human convenience.”

  Tessa raised an eyebrow, “I would say that’s arrog-”

  “Er,” Lucy cut in, “Sorry, but I think there’s a problem.”

  Sabine pulled Ebony closer, “What is wrong?”

  “Well I’d expect to be getting some sort of security verification,” Lucy frowned at her screen, “or at least an interrogation query from central control. But there’s nothing.”

  “You mean we can’t get in?” Pavna looked at the ARC airlock door.

  “No,” said Lucy, “just the opposite, there’s no security in place at all.”

  “Why would they turn security off?” said Noah.

  “Could the power grid be out?” said Tessa.

  Mat examined the airlock’s rudimentary access panel, “It’s not affecting the door.”

  Sabine saw a look of concern spread over Pavna’s face.

  “Maybe the outage is at central itself.”

  Mat nodded, “No point putting this off.”

  Without waiting, he pushed the panel’s button.

  Sabine felt a vibration pass through the metal under her feet. As she looked down, she could see Ebony was looking up at her. She forced a smile for daughter’s benefit and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

  With a jarring shudder, the door in front of them spiralled open, revealing only pitch black darkness beyond. It seemed that the power was out there too.

  “Damn,” Pavna turned on her flashlight.

  Everyone now began doing the same. With each additional beam, a little more of the room was revealed.

  Somehow Sabine hadn’t expected the spherical nature of the exterior to be present on the inside. There was, of course, only one wall; a surface that wrapped itself in a complete circle and merged overhead into a curved ceiling.

  The concave nature of the room somehow didn’t seem as welcoming as the flat surfaces that defined the city streets and rooftops she’d once been used to. She found her eyes sliding off anything she looked at; her aerial navigation skills would be almost no help to her here.

  As she walked across the airlock’s threshold, she immediately sensed how stale and cold the air had become; a mild mist was accompanying each exhale. Although Sabine could visualise the heat actively leaving her body, it seemed that Ebony was simply finding the experience fascinating. Sabine crouched at her side and told her to stay warm, then repositioned the woollen scarf to cover her exposed mouth.

  Ahead, someone’s flashlight illuminated two circular closed doorways.

  “OK, Lucy,” Pavna raised her voice, “We’re here.”

  From the Sea-Bass docking room above and behind them, Lucy called out.

  “OK,” her voice echoed around the space, “You know how these things work. To go forward, you’ll have to close this outer door.”

  “Understood,” Mat walked back to where they’d just entered, “But do me a favour and keep the engine running?”

  “You know I will,” she replied, “Call me when you get to central control.”

  Mat pushed the button and the door’s aperture shrank to a close. Sabine knew that the only way out now was by going forwards.

  “Right then,” Mat clapped his hands loudly then stood in front of one of the doorways, “We should get started.”

  Noah moved to join Pavna at the other door.

  “OK,” she said, “Let’s go.”

  Mat and Pavna pushed their door release buttons and both mechanisms slid open more smoothly this time.

  Sabine could see nothing beyond the two black circles that stood waiting for them. Almost instinctively, she scooped Ebony up from the floor and held her.

  As the others began shining their flashlights into the newly-opened doorways, she thought she could discern sets of stairs.

  Pavna took a deep breath, “OK.”

  “I’ll see you at central,” Mat replied, apparently not wanting to break eye contact.

  Pavna and Noah headed out through one doorway and mounted the stairs.

  “Allons-y!” Mat pointed his flashlight at the descending stairs.

  Clutching her daughter close to her chest, Sabine followed him down into the dark interior.

  CALL

  The wristwatch emitted its characteristic double tone. Marcus automatically raised it so that he’d be able to hear any announcement more clearly.

  “Calling all personnel,” Rachel Keele spoke through the small speaker, “Please report to the common area immediately.”

  He opened his eyes and looked around the confines of his cubicle.

  Unlike most of the major spaces at the ARC, it had flat walls. In some ways, the space reminded him of his old flat in London; compact, a bed no bigger than a sofa, and a computer screen to provide half the illumination.

  He swung himself upright off the bed and threw on the clothes he’d been wearing yesterday. Stopping only to bundle his laptop into his shoulder bag, he unlocked the door and stepped out into the busy access corridor.

  Backing out of his cubicle, Ian Holister bumped into him and began apologising.

  “Don’t sweat it,” Marcus tapped his wristwatch, “You going to the -”

  “Common area, yeah,” Ian moved to one side to let someone pass, “What do you reckon it is?”

  As Marcus dodged around a set of abandoned step ladders, the
corridor lights flickered.

  “With any luck,” said Marcus, “they’ve found a box of lightbulbs.”

  “Nah,” Ian shook his head and patted the mini LED torch clipped to his belt, “They’ll say everyone’s already covered.”

  “Yeah,” Marcus prodded at a similar one attached to his bag, “What are we complaining about?”

  Ian laughed and headed off in a different direction.

  “I’ll see you up there, alright?”

  “Sure,” Marcus turned and began walking up the stairs.

  Some of the people around him appeared to move with a sense of restrained urgency, as though deliberately trying not to run. Something seemed amiss.

  Pushing the appropriate shortcut button on his watch, he raised it to his ear and waited for the connection.

  “Westhouse,” came the answer.

  “It’s Marcus. Listen, everyone’s heading for the common area.”

  “I know,” he replied, “I’m on my way.”

  Marcus checked around himself and lowered his voice, “Do you know what’s going on?”

  For a moment he thought that the audio channel had been disconnected, but the reply eventually came.

  “Yes.”

  The call ended and Marcus doubled his speed.

  LIMITATIONS

  Pavna led the way to the top of the stairs, arriving at a landing area and the next Glaucus door. Having made the ascent, their journey would only take them downward. Taking a moment to rest, she became more aware of her own breath; small shots of condensation that evaporated quickly into the cold, dark air.

  Noah joined her a few seconds later, casting his flashlight around the general area.

  “Fai?” he addressed the tablet in his hands.

  “Yes, Noah.”

  “Is this why our radios won’t work?”

  “Parsing error. Please provide context for the unspecified pronoun.”

  She heard Noah give a small groan of frustration and thought she might be able to answer it faster than Fai.

  “It’s a bit like a Faraday cage,” she pointed to the sphere’s structure, “Too much interference. There was talk about getting some sort of mobile repeater network installed but… well…”

  “No power,” Noah nodded but then added, “Fai, please can you check again for any available communication networks?”

  “Working.”

  “I guess it doesn’t hurt to check,” Pavna shrugged, privately wanting the result to be different this time.

  “Confirmed. No available communication channels.”

  Pavna exhaled, “Probably too soon for them to have got to central control.”

  Noah took a bottle of water from his bag and drank, so she took the opportunity to do the same. Sometimes she envied Fai who didn’t need to stop for water or food. The thought prompted her to check something.

  “Fai,” she stowed her bottle again, “How’s your battery power?”

  “Eighty-seven percent remaining.”

  “You’ve used thirteen already?” Noah frowned.

  “Yes. This container has more inefficiencies and limitations than my originator. Owing to processor allocation issues, I must confine the operation of my user interface to a compressed memory space.”

  Pavna thought it sounded claustrophobic but didn’t say so in front of Noah.

  “OK, Fai,” she took hold of the tablet, “Let’s try to save your battery until we get down to the common area.”

  “I can discontinue background calculations to extend my viable lifespan.”

  “Yes, that would help.”

  “Understood,” the tablet’s screen faded to black.

  As she put the tablet in her bag, she could see that Noah was ill at ease. She got the impression his tightly-wrapped arms had nothing to with trying to stay warm.

  “You OK?”

  “Yep,” he nodded, “It’s just…”

  “What?”

  “Obviously I don’t know what this place looks like with the lights on,” he looked around at the empty space, “but we’ve been through two chambers and not seen anyone yet.”

  She thought back to her previous time at the ARC.

  “Given the circumstances,” she said, “it’s completely understandable. It didn’t happen very often, but there were occasions when we’d have central briefings.”

  “So you think that’s where they are now?” he exhaled a cloudy breath.

  “Think about what we know,” Pavna walked to the access panel, “Two of the spheres have lost pressure. That in itself would be enough to force a central emergency gathering.”

  He considered her for a second, then as he looked at the darkened space, his shoulders relaxed a little, “I guess the ARC’s behaving like the human body.”

  It seemed that Noah’s medical background was somehow helping him to rationalise the situation he was in. Hoping that it might calm his anxiety, she encouraged him to continue.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Under certain conditions, blood can’t reach the body’s extremities,” he said, “Maybe everyone’s just trying to keep the core of this place alive by limiting the power to essential elements.”

  Pavna pushed the button and the circular door smoothly unfolded into the surrounding ring.

  “Essential elements like the Glaucus Ring doors,” she stepped across the threshold into the next sphere, “The ARC remains protected, but it also allows people to keep flowing to the safe common area.”

  Noah nodded and smiled at the circular opening.

  “Like a strong heart valve that only allows flow in one direc-” he suddenly broke off and froze, “Oh no…”

  “What?” Pavna saw his eyes widen.

  “It’s why we haven’t seen anyone…” he backed away from the threshold, “The doors won’t let us back out again!”

  She knew that the Glaucus system wasn’t designed to operate that way, but attempting to explain this at the moment would be pointless. She’d need to show him that his fears were unfounded by cycling the door closed and open.

  “Noah they will,” she smiled, “Look.”

  Stepping to the access panel, she hit the button.

  The door spiralled shut, leaving Noah on the other side.

  EQUATOR

  Megan gathered her thoughts and waited for Rachel to finish her introduction. It was the largest gathering she’d seen during her time at the ARC. She recognised many of the faces, but there were also complete strangers here too; a direct result of the efforts to venture out and find Siva survivors.

  Rachel turned in her direction, “Meg Reynolds.”

  Uneasy murmurs rippled around the common area’s crowded space. Given the circumstances, she thought, it was understandable; in the short time it had taken to arrange this briefing, rumour and partial fact had already begun to spread. The sooner she could deliver her actual report, the better.

  “Thank you,” Megan raised her voice.

  The spherical space seemed to amplify her words and deliver them back to her. Somewhat unnervingly, it also seemed to amplify everyone’s focused attention.

  “As you know,” she said, “the York’s last trip was to the equatorial region of former Africa. I can confirm firsthand that the devastation brought by the lunar shards and Siva fragments was… severe.”

  Using the controls on the podium, she dimmed the lights throughout the room and turned on the video projector. On the large white screen at one side of the room, a world map appeared; an image that was now hopelessly out of date.

  “This is just for reference purposes.”

  Looking around at the gathering, she could see there were now young children present. It began to dawn on her that, as the children grew up, this so-called reference image would become as irrelevant as an illustration of Pangea.

  “There are no satellites, so we can’t know how things look for sure. But piecing together the journeys taken by the other subs and the York’s recent data, we think it may be closer to
this…”

  She advanced the presentation to the next page. Although a few adults gave a sharp intake of breath, she couldn’t help noticing that the children didn’t even blink.

  Pico Island was little more than a volcano-tip dot on a blue canvas. Spain, France and the UK were a sprawling archipelago loosely attached to the remainder of Europe. Much of Africa was intact, but a broad and rough line now cut through the continent from the Gulf of Aden to the western shores of Nigeria.

  She advanced to the next image showing the westernmost edge of the bisected Africa.

  “We think this is the combined result of the Agrippa lunar shard and the later Siva fragments.”

  The images that followed were photographs taken during the York’s journey. Like the photos from other trips, they showed tortured remnants of previously tall buildings, surrounded by water. The reason for this familiar perspective was fairly easy to understand: the photos were typically taken from the safety of the submarine.

  She clicked to the next image, showing a dirt path winding its way through a rainforest. She clicked forward again and the screen updated to show what looked like a dilapidated airport, surrounded by patches of swamp.

  “We did find survivors…” the time had come to address the rumours, “… hundreds of them.”

  Applause and cheers immediately erupted throughout the room; a sense of relief and joy that seemed to reverberate back to her at the podium. Finding survivors was rare, finding this number was rarer still.

  The next shots showed a small community farming the land, someone working a blacksmith’s forge, and a wind turbine seemingly constructed from car parts.

  She could see Marcus on the far side of the room, smiling along with everyone else. Unsurprisingly he was holding his laptop and panning it around, no doubt recording the briefing and the celebration.

  She raised her hand and tried to indicate that she had more to say, but it was several moments before the room became calm enough for her to resume speaking. Even then, the atmosphere remained lively. She knew it would make this next part harder.

  “We’re starting to make a difference,” she said.