The Bridge

by Simon Winstanley

  “Lana, get in here.”

  Mortified, Raven withdrew her hand from the console, “Was that me?”

  Abel shook his head but kept working at speed, “A relay must’ve sparked.”

  “The oxygen bubble,” she thought of the surrounding Field.

  “Bang,” Abel nodded then hit the intercom again, “Lana, Ivan, anyone, pick up the comm!”

  The cockpit speaker clicked.

  “We’re here,” came her dad’s voice, “Open up.”

  Abel leaned to one side and pushed the door button. A negative tone rang out. Despite several presses, the door remained closed.

  “Can’t open it, Ivan,” Abel managed to mute the alarms, “Give me the bad news.”

  “The explosion was starboard,” he said, “but the central compartment’s intact.”

  Abel suddenly looked over at a small flashing light, “Shit.”

  “What?” said Ivan.

  “Nothing,” Abel dismissed him, “Injuries?”

  “Superficial,” Lana now replied, “Concussions.”

  Raven could see that Abel was obviously thinking of several things at once.

  “OK,” he now looked at her, clearly unsure about something “OK. Right.”

  “Is Raven OK?” Lana’s concerned voice returned.

  “I’m alright Mama,” she began.

  “Sorry,” Abel cut in, “but we’ve gotta wrap this up. Entry in about a minute. Suggest you get yourselves strapped in back there.”

  “Is there nothing we can do?” said Ivan.

  Raven saw him glance at her briefly before replying.

  “Just do me a favour and look after everybody back there, OK?”

  “OK,” said Ivan, “Raven you sit tight.”

  “I will,” she told him, “you too.”

  “We’ll see you on the ground,” said Lana.

  “See you soon, Mama.”

  Abel clicked off the intercom and immediately she could see that he was trying not to meet her eye.

  “What?” she demanded.

  He pointed to the single flashing light.

  “The Bergstrom’s forward reactor,” he said quietly, “It must’ve got damaged in the explosion. It’ll go critical before we reach the surface.”

  The planet ahead of them filled her view.

  After everything they’d been through, they weren’t going to make it.

  “We can save everyone back there, but…” Abel’s voice trailed off.

  She stared at Marcus’ blank tablet.

  A cold determination descended on her.

  There was no way in hell that she was going to let Kohlner win.

  “What do we have to do?”

  The curve of the planet began to flatten as they continued their approach.

  “When we clear the atmosphere and drop the Field,” he said, “We have to eject the central passenger compartment.”

  She could picture the safety briefing they’d all seen before departure, but had never thought they’d actually need any of it.

  Abel pointed at the diagram of the circular central area and the partial conic tubes that were dotted around its circumference.

  “The solid state boosters will fire and stabilise them,” he said, “The Eri probes reckoned the air’s thick enough, so the parachute system should deploy when they get to closer to the ground.”

  Raven pointed to the rest of the Bergstrom, “What about us?”

  Abel hesitated, shaking his head.

  “If we explode in the air, the radiation’s gonna be in every breath that people take. For ten generations.”

  She didn’t know if Kohlner had predicted this outcome, but the Bergstrom’s arrival would make the planet toxic. It would be another reason for people to remain aboard the Eridanus.

  “So,” she pointed upward, “we have to get the Bergstrom away from the planet again.”

  “There won’t be time,” he said and pointed down.

  “Oh,” she now understood.

  The view ahead of them grew darker as the ship passed into the planet’s night side. Abel took hold of the manual controls.

  “There’ll only be a small window,” he looked at Marcus’ tablet, “but you should take it with you.”

  “With me?” she was genuinely confused.

  Flecks of light were bouncing off the Field ahead of them; their entry to the atmosphere had already begun.

  “When the central section ejects,” he glanced over his shoulder, “that doorway’ll be open to the air. There’ll be a small window of opportunity.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “It doesn’t take two of us to do this,” he gripped the controls, “I saw your backpack. You should try to use it.”

  She suddenly realised what he meant.

  “But I can’t just -”

  “Listen,” he gave her a stern look, “there’s no guarantee you’ll survive, but if you don’t try, this can only end one way. You owe it to your Mom and Dad.”

  Raven became aware that she’d been gripping her pendant tightly. She opened her hand to look at the metallic case. The hexagonal Cryotrace was no longer within it. Marcus’ voice was long gone, but the words on the pendant’s surface spoke louder now than ever before.

  “Don’t fear the falls,” she looked at the doorway.

  The cockpit began to turn and she saw that Abel was already trying to adjust the ship’s orientation within the Field.

  “Too right,” Abel smiled and rolled the ship to starboard.

  While the ship continued to change orientation, the light show beyond the window intensified and gravity itself began to return. The faster she was able to move, the heavier she was becoming. Retrieving her backpack from the cockpit’s stowage point, she turned on its fully-charged systems.

  Backing her way into the device, she wriggled her shoulder blade protrusions into position. As before, she felt her skin tingle as the fabricator components began to communicate with the nerve endings under her skin. As she clipped the securing belt into place, she felt her extended senses reaching out to find the limits of the biomechanical muscles that lay beyond her own skin.

  The lights outside the window faded and she saw the dark world below them. The pale, diffuse light from Eri’s moon was illuminating the large body of water underneath them.

  “Field shut down!” Abel shouted, “In three… two… one…”

  Raven felt her ears pop and a thunderous, rushing noise filled the cockpit; in the absence of the surrounding Field, air resistance was suddenly tearing at the ship. As Abel wrestled with the controls, the ship rolled and banked wildly. She had to grip the wall handle with all her strength just to stay upright. With a particularly punishing tilt, the ship suddenly levelled out.

  “This is it!” he yelled over the noise and looked at the doorway, “When you see it go, don’t wait!”

  “Abel,” she called out, but then realised that words were insufficient to thank him.

  “You’re welcome,” he smiled and poised his finger over a button, “Fly straight, Raven.”

  As he pushed the button, a heavy jolt transitioned into a deafening roar. The central compartment had been ejected. The door and its surrounding frame dropped and she saw the bright glow of the retro engines ignite. The open doorway suddenly became a jet-black box of rushing air that was pulling at her. In the sudden shock, she lost her grip on the handle and, with a sickening twist, she tumbled headfirst through the doorway.

  Immediately she was surrounded by cold, quiet air.

  She stammered for breath and threw out her arms. In response, her biomechanical wings opened and set her spinning. Reacting to the sudden change, she recoiled. Instantly the flight surfaces did the same and she felt herself falling faster; the blunt wind freezing her body and thoughts.

  Like a newborn’s birth cry, she filled her lungs and screamed her arrival into the world.

  As the initial shock subsided, she felt a calm voice begin to emerge from wit
hin her. Everything she needed to survive was already a part of her; the biomechanics were simply augmenting the senses she’d inherited from her strong maternal line. In that moment, it all became clear. No human before her had possessed the mental and physical means to overcome the most primitive of fears.

  Raven unfurled her wings and fear itself fell away.

  She was no longer falling.

  On this new world, she was flying.

  She could feel the furthest tips of her wings; the temperature and density of the air, her own acceleration, and the time to process the sensations without panic.

  Space, Time and Gravity, the thought arrived.

  Her sphere of awareness expanded to encompass the horizon and the world below her.

  To her left was the distant Bergstrom, trailing a line of smoke from the damaged thruster. This was no free fall, she saw; all of the ship’s main engines were fiercely alight as Abel forced it into an accelerated dive toward the ocean.

  Below, to her right, she saw the circular silhouette of the ejected central compartment. Surrounded by a dotted ring of brightly firing retrorockets, it was approaching the ground at speed.

  Like white flowers suddenly blossoming, a set of parachutes deployed, and the central compartment seemed to shoot upwards at speed. She immediately knew this wasn’t the case though; she was simply falling faster than it was. As it shot past her, she saw that the retrorockets were throttling back and the impact-absorbing landing pads were already extending. The ground must be approaching fast, she thought, but in the dim light it was difficult to judge just how far away it was.

  The landscape suddenly lit up with a bluish-white light; enough for her to see the distance to the ground. The source of the light now became clear and she turned to face it.

  Just below the surface of the ocean, the Bergstrom’s arc of smoke terminated in a magnesium-bright point of light. The massive circle of sea around it was boiling as it absorbed the energy within the nuclear detonation.

  As Abel’s sacrificial light began to diminish, she checked the approaching surface again. Shaping and curving her wings, the air folded itself around her, slowing her descent. With a strong downward beat from her shoulders, she brought herself to a brief standstill.

  Then stepped to the ground.

  Breathing her first lungful of air from the planet’s surface, she turned to face the ocean.

  “Thank you, Abel,” she spoke to the rapidly fading light.

  Only now did she remember that she’d failed to pick up Marcus’ tablet. Unless it had been blown out of the cockpit, it was presumably now vapourised.

  A fluttering noise from some way behind her caused her to turn around. The Bergstrom’s central compartment was approaching the ground, hanging from full parachutes. Several minor thruster bursts stabilised it, then the impact pads compressed as it noisily made contact with the terrain.

  With a roll of her shoulders, her wings folded away and she sprinted across the surface toward the collapsing parachutes. She saw the compartment finish lowering itself to the ground on its landing pads and, as she continued to run, several external lights clicked on. Below one of the lights, a door slid open.

  “Raven!” Lana yelled out.

  Skidding to a halt, Raven threw her arms around her mother and squeezed her tightly, “Mama!”

  Squinting at the bright interior light, she now caught sight of her father. His face was a picture of joy and relief as he dashed to join the hug, “I thought we’d lost you!”

  Without letting go of her mother, she raised a hand and showed him a small gap between her finger and thumb. Smiling, she snapped the gap closed.

  “It was this close.”

  DAWN

  In the pale glow of the dawn sunlight, Marcus breathed deeply. The night had finally passed and, for the first time since leaving the ARC, they were about to reach land.

  Rather than risk grounding the Britannia, they’d taken a small hovercraft and headed toward the shore. A few minutes ago, the coastline had been busy with activity but, as they’d got closer, the people had quickly retreated.

  The hovercraft rode over the shallow surf and powered down, grounding itself on the compacted wet sand.

  “Why’d they run off?” Marcus stepped onto the shore.

  “A big, scary sub turns up,” Megan shrugged and climbed out, “Maybe they think we’re gonna raid them. Dixon’s bloody drone probably isn’t helping matters.”

  Although the camera drone was fairly high up, Marcus thought she might have a point. Years ago, during the Britannia’s earlier trips, he’d seen small communities react defensively. Generally, it was safer for people to assume the worst of outsiders and then negotiate to a position of trust.

  “We’re unarmed,” he called out, in case anyone was nearby.

  Nathan stepped off the hovercraft and drove an anchoring rod into the sand. After tying their transport to the rod, he picked up their medical kit.

  “Maybe this will help them trust us a little,” he said.

  Megan gave a concerned nod.

  “I just wish I’d done my hair for the occasion,” she kept her face deadpan as she waved up at the camera.

  “It’s just a subtle show that we have backup,” Nathan began walking.

  “Very subtle,” Marcus followed him.

  Taking care to announce their progress to anyone who might be listening, they moved cautiously past the small campfires. As they neared the settlement’s centre, they slowed their pace; the people they’d seen on the shoreline were beginning to emerge from the shelter, led by a pale-skinned woman.

  In front of him, Nathan came to a halt and Marcus found himself sharing a nervous glance with Megan. Nathan tentatively held out the medical kit, “We’re here to help.”

  The woman appeared to assess Nathan but, after exchanging glances with a few of her people, she narrowed her eyes.

  “We don’t recognise you,” she told him.

  Marcus couldn’t place her accent but he was fairly sure it wasn’t from New Zealand.

  “The world’s a large place,” Nathan conceded, “but I hope we don’t have to remain strangers.”

  Her expression shifted to one of slight confusion, as though his response didn’t quite fit with what she’d said.

  “What ship did you arrive on?” she frowned.

  Nathan hesitated, presumably because he wasn’t used to people calling his submarine a ship. Marcus gave a slight cough and attempted to keep the fledgling conversation going.

  “The Britannia,” he took a step forward, “But, it’s not really a -”

  As the woman’s frown faltered, a slight commotion broke out and someone began pushing their way through the gathering. Emerging to stand next to the leader, a young woman stared at him. Eyes gleaming, she seemed to be studying his face for signs of recognition.

  “It’s me!” she smiled broadly.

  He desperately tried to remember who she was. Certain features were familiar but he couldn’t quite place her.

  “I’m sorry,” he began, “but…”

  Her smile flickered, but didn’t disappear.

  “Of course…” something appeared to dawn on her, “You don’t know me.”

  From her emphasis, he made an educated guess.

  “But you know me?” he frowned.

  “It’s impossible, but yes,” she said, “You’re Marcus Blake.”

  The mention of his name triggered a reaction in the group’s leader and a few of the people around her. The older woman now stepped forward and held out her hand.

  “Lana Yakovna,” she introduced herself.

  Marcus shook her hand, still unclear on who these people were. While Lana shook hands with Nathan and Megan, the younger woman continued to smile at him.

  “I am so glad that you’re here,” she beamed, looking like she might attempt to hug him at any moment.

  Feeling a little uncomfortable at the thought, he deliberately broke eye contact to look at their settlement.
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  “Good… great,” he nodded, “We’re happy to be here too.”

  Nathan finished shaking hands with several people.

  “Perhaps you can settle something,” he said, “Our guidance system is a little lost. Where exactly is ‘here’?”

  EXCLUSIVE

  The end module airlock of the ISS had certainly been compact, Toby thought. The plain walls were barely a few feet away in any direction.

  The working replica had been reproduced down to the last detail. He’d heard that school kids would come here to learn about a guy who’d sacrificed his life but, being a functioning airlock, it was also used to train adults.

  Apparently, before orbital stations could be put in place around Eri, people would need to know the relevant safety protocols. With any luck though, he wouldn’t have to fill his head with that sort of thing. The only thing he needed the airlock for was its soundproof quality.

  He put the stun-baton back in his jacket pocket and crouched at the side of the unconscious Trudy Brightman.

  Ideally he hadn’t wanted to get this personally involved, but Devon had insisted. If her recube had captured anything incriminating during their conversation at New Houston, then the potential leak needed plugging.

  He could see that she was one of the many sensible people who wore their Biomags incorporated into a belt. He could remove it and just let the Field frag her, but somehow the idea seemed undignified. In the close confines of the airtight space, he’d also be more likely to sustain injuries to himself.

  Digging through her few pockets, he found no recube or other recording devices. But that didn’t change a thing.

  He saw her eyebrow twitch; the stun effect was beginning to wear off, so he’d have to act now. He quietly placed his knife in contact with her chest, then leaned on it with all his weight. Her eyes flickered only momentarily before she became completely motionless.

  The stain on her shirt stopped spreading and her Biomag registered the passing of her life with the illumination of a small red light. Carefully pulling the dense plastic blade from her heart, he stood and faced the airlock door.

  Pushing the button he’d seen her use to enter the airlock, he waited for the door to open. Instead of a gentle hiss, he heard nothing at all. The room had become quiet. The background noise of the air-pump had stopped. He pushed the button again, but the door remained closed. The lights above him now deactivated, leaving him in the glow of an ID touch-panel.