by RF Hurteau
Edwin and Sylvia entered Pods, skirting around various people in the crowded walkways. Sylvia wended her way through the long room gracefully, until they reached the back corner. A closed door marked the former supervisor’s office. She knocked once, and Ben’s voice answered, “Come in.”
Ben sat alone, bent over a workstation in the dim light, frowning at a particularly stubborn set of equations. He glanced up, and offered Sylvia one of his rare smiles. It was brief, and a little sad. “Hey, Syl. Hey, Edwin.”
Sylvia moved around the station and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, you,” she said, warmly, planting a quick kiss on the crown of his head. “Whatcha working on?”
Ben’s clothes were rumpled and it looked as though he hadn’t left the room for several days. His eyes were tired, and his hair was sticking up at odd angles in several places.
“Compatibility issues. We haven’t found a way to network the pods yet, but I feel like I’m getting closer. The problem is a lot of the designs are so different. It seemed at first like it might not even be possible.” Ben cocked his head, frowning as a thought came to him. “You know, I bet that this place is the whole reason for the three-year evaluations.”
“How’s that?” Edwin asked, curious.
“Well, there are a lot of different variations of pods. Like, we’re talking hundreds. I think they would swap out the whole crew down here during evaluations. Just to keep anyone from realizing how often they were changing things.”
Edwin pursed his lips, considering. “Makes sense, I guess. But why so many different types, anyway?”
“Well, I expect because they had no idea what they were doing,” Ben said. Edwin laughed, but Ben’s face remained solemn.
“No, seriously. I think despite all these different attempts, they hadn’t figured out quite how to achieve whatever it was that they were trying to achieve.”
“And we still don’t know what that was, huh?” Sylvia asked.
Ben looked as if she’d slapped him. “We’re all working on it, Syl. They ran this place for a hundred and twenty-five years. It’s gonna take a little time to unravel all the mysteries they left behind. All of their sensitive data and research is encrypted. It’s not like all of the supervisors wrote their passwords down on sticky notes.”
Sylvia frowned. “I wasn’t suggesting—”
Edwin sensed that the conversation was heading in the wrong direction and quickly changed the subject. “So, Ben. Tell me about our networking problems. Why do we care about networking in the first place?” Edwin had a vague recollection that this had been covered pretty thoroughly in one of their recent Council meetings, but he had to admit that he hadn’t really been paying much attention.
Ben, who appeared to have been preparing for a verbal sparring match with Sylvia, looked taken aback by the sudden question. “Oh, uh, okay. Here, look at this.” He pushed himself, chair and all, away from the panel he was working on and spun around to face a different console. Ben’s hands flew across the controls, pulling up several monitors’ worth of numbers and letters that were absolutely meaningless to Edwin, who nodded knowingly, as if it all made perfect sense.
Pointing to a couple of the numbers, Ben began to explain. “See these, here? They’re designations for the different pod designs. This column indicates whether or not we’ve had a chance to study any given model in depth. As you can see,” he said, gesturing up and down the mostly empty columns, “we’ve barely scratched the surface. There are a few that we’ve been able to use for physical rehabilitation. I’m sure Sylvia’s probably told you all about those particular models.”
Edwin nodded. “I’m still not seeing the need for networking, though. If you can make the pods do what you need them to do, what’s the difference?”
“That’s the problem, though, isn’t it?” said Ben. “We can’t make them do what we need them to do. At least, not all at once. There’s so much potential, and it’s just being wasted. If we were able to network the pods, it would be a simple matter to check the capabilities of any given type to see if they were fit for use, or needed repair. We could program and push out updates to all of the pods remotely right from this desk. We could activate or deactivate them as needed without having to do so manually.”
“But why?” asked Sylvia. “Why does it matter?”
Ben looked grave. “Remember when we were discussing theories? About maybe using them as stasis pods in times of crisis? If we can’t get the food situation under control, it might come to that.”
Edwin noticed Sylvia shudder. He didn’t blame her. He didn’t much care for the idea either.
“Anyway,” said Ben, “it’s not just about convenience. If we network them, we’ll be able to compare them. And if we can compare them, we can figure out just what the Elves intended to do with them. That’s the real goal. But it’s just not as easy as it sounds. There are a lot of variables.”
“Trust me,” Edwin said. “It doesn’t sound easy.”
“Ben, when’s the last time you ate?” Sylvia asked suddenly. “You look exhausted.”
Ben looked around the room, a quizzical expression on his face. “Last time I ate…” he said, his voice thoughtful.
“That’s it. Break time. Come on. Let’s get you home. A nap, I think.”
Sylvia shooed him from the room like a mother hen as Ben offered weak protests about losing his momentum.
“Come with us?” Sylvia asked Edwin when they reached the lobby. “It would be nice to have company over. My father would be thrilled.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose,” Edwin said, hesitating, “I really should take care of a few things here…”
“Come on. It’s no bother. Now that the comm range has been extended, you can do all that stuff on the way.”
Edwin chewed the inside of his cheek absently as he considered. “All right,” he said at last, “if you’re sure it’s okay.”
“I’m sure,” she said, smiling.
By the time they reached the Tube station, Ben had stopped complaining and had accepted his fate. He sat quietly across from Edwin, staring. Edwin studied him, wondering what was going on inside his head. He wondered if they’d been wrong to put Ben in charge of his department. He was young. Nelson was young, too, but Ben wasn’t like Nelson. His position, his responsibility, was perhaps too heavy a burden. It was taking its toll.
Sylvia made several attempts at lighthearted conversation to pass the time. Ben would offer a nod or a one-word answer until she finally gave up, turning to Edwin with a look of pleading on her face. Edwin, caught off guard, struggled to find a topic to engage Ben who was now staring down at his hands as if unsure what to do with them.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he said, “having the Tube up and running again?”
“Yeah,” said Ben.
Edwin waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. “I mean, that was a rough couple of months, huh, before we cleared all that wreckage and got the remaining trains going again.”
“Yeah,” Ben agreed morosely.
“I still can’t believe the riots caused so much damage,” Sylvia said, shaking her head. Edwin cringed, wanting to talk about anything but the riots. His guilt over the death and destruction the night the Elves left haunted him constantly. Talking about it made it all the more painful. But Sylvia continued, “I really thought all of the destruction was just at the celebrations. When I found out that two of the Tube Stations had been totally devastated, I was shocked.”
“We were all shocked,” said Edwin. “It was a stupid thing to do. Took ages to sort everything out after that. But people do stupid things when they get riled up, I guess.”
Responsibility for the aftermath of the Elves’ departure weighed heavily on Edwin. Each time he thought he was moving on, he’d see something, or someone, that would trigger the memories again. Such, he supposed, was the mantle of leadership. Still, the people had rallied to the task. They’d cleaned up the mess—at least the physical aspects of it—and
they’d organized a new government. Though it was modeled after the Elder Council, the only example they had to go by, folks seemed eager to offer their support. They looked to Edwin now. He didn’t want to be a disappointment to them.
He and Sylvia both let out deep sighs. None of them spoke for the remainder of the ride.
When they reached D5, they exited the Tube Station and walked among the deserted market booths toward Sylvia and Ben’s home. Edwin saw Sylvia glance sadly at her father’s old booth, the remnants of the red streamers hanging sadly, torn and forgotten. The night of the Anniversary, the rioting in D1 had been fairly short-lived. Nelson’s declaration that the Elves had fled had put a quick end to the bloody chaos in Sigil square. Yet it had come too late to stop the spread of the rioters throughout the other domes. Most of the marketplaces had been totally ransacked before things calmed down. A lot of people had lost their livelihood, including Sylvia’s father. Still, they were slowly picking up the pieces. A new, consolidated market had been created in D3, once inhabited by the Elves. Any vendor who had not lost their inventory in the riots or looting had gone there to start fresh. They’d used some of the newly vacated housing to set up distribution centers, and those who needed a place to sleep somewhere to call their own.
“Mama?” Sylvia called as they entered the house. “We’re home. We brought Edwin.”
“Oh, lovely,” Martha replied. “Another person to subject to a disappointing meal.”
“I can go,” said Edwin uncomfortably.
“Don’t be stupid. You’re always welcome here. Sit down,” Martha commanded.
Edwin sat obediently at the kitchen table.
“Sylvia?”
Sylvia’s father appeared from down the hall, greeting them all with a bright smile. He offered Edwin a firm handshake. “Edwin! So, nice to see you. How is life treating you these days?”
“Oh, can’t complain, James,” Edwin said, forcing a smile of his own. “And yourself?”
James clucked his tongue, looking around the small kitchen area. “A little stir crazy to be honest. Not much for an old man to do in this bright new world you’re building. Still, they’re treating us all right. We have plenty to eat and a place to sleep.”
Sylvia’s mother let out a hearty guffaw. “Plenty is a bit of an overstatement,” she said. “But there’s enough. We make do.”
Edwin felt a twinge of guilt. The food shortages were not strictly his fault, but he had hoped that by now, they’d have had a better system in place. He knew these things took time, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. “It won’t always be like this,” he said weakly.
Sylvia’s mother nodded gravely. “I’m not worried,” she said. “I know you young people will get it all sorted out in the end.”
Ben pulled an extra stool up to the table, and they chatted as they ate. Sylvia’s mother had been right, the food was nothing spectacular. It was a bland soup, more water than anything else. But it was satisfying all the same. Edwin generally ate his rations hurriedly, straight out of the box they came in, with no effort to create anything special from the sparse ingredients.
“Are you enjoying being head of the department?” Edwin asked Ben after a time. Sylvia shot him a look of exasperation. Clearly, she’d intended to steer clear of work talk.
But Ben nodded. “Mostly,” he admitted. “I mean, it’s nice being able to have some real say in what goes on down there. I just wish we were making more headway.”
“You’ll get there,” Sylvia said encouragingly.
“Yeah, but when?” Ben said, his face falling. “I just want to be helpful, you know? Do something meaningful.”
“But you have,” Sylvia insisted, and Edwin nodded in agreement. “Think of all the people you’ve helped so far. Think of all those poor people after the Therans left whose lives were saved by your quick thinking. You got those medical pods up and running so fast, it made my head spin!”
“Not fast enough for some,” Ben said unsmiling.
Edwin sighed. Between the injuries incurred during the riots, the neglected hospital patients, and the Geothermal Plant workers, there just hadn’t been enough pods operational to take care of them all. Nelson had nearly lost several fingers to frostbite, but didn’t seem to mind waiting several months for treatment, when they discovered the pods were capable of healing even this infirmity. Nelson had worn them like a badge of honor, eager to show them to anyone who wanted to hear his thrilling account of the Elves’ exodus. There were precious few doctors to go around with the Elves gone. Though they’d been put into triage based on need, many souls had been lost before the pods that could have saved them became available.
“That wasn’t your fault, Ben,” Edwin said quietly. “You shouldn’t put that all on yourself.”
“I wasn’t fast enough,” Ben murmured.
“There just weren’t enough people with the expertise to care for all those injured, Ben,” Sylvia insisted. “Most of those we were able to save would be dead now if it weren’t for you.”
There was a buzzing in Edwin’s ear, and he stood up from the table. “Nelson needs me,” he said. “If you’ll excuse me. Thank you for the meal, Mrs. Parker.” He put his bowl in the sink and nodded farewell. “See you both at the meeting this evening.”
Ben nodded dejectedly. As Edwin walked away, he swore he could feel Sylvia glaring at him for leaving her to deal with Ben’s fragile emotional state.
* * *
Nelson was pacing the office when Edwin reappeared in the doorway. Edwin couldn’t decide if his friend was excited, frustrated, or both. He didn’t have to wait long to find out. Nelson looked up as he entered, a broad grin stretching across his face, his eyes triumphant.
“You’ll never guess!” Nelson said excitedly. He grabbed Edwin by the arm, dragging him out of the office. “You’ll never guess what’s happened!”
“Are you going to tell me, or are you actually expecting me to guess?”
Nelson shook his head dismissively. “Come on, come on. I’ll show you.” Edwin followed dutifully as Nelson led him out of Core Operations and into the hall. They passed the commissary, then proceeded through the lobby toward the North Wing.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me where to meet you,” Edwin said. “I have to contact all the department heads about meeting tonight. I don’t have time to wander the halls of Sigil with you.”
“Relax,” said Nelson. “We’re almost there. I just wanted it to be a surprise.”
Edwin sighed. “If you say so,” he said.
They came to a nondescript door panel that slid open to reveal a small room full of old, dejected looking monitors. One wall was lined with newly installed equipment, which practically sparkled in comparison. A plump woman with a pleasant face had been studying some of the new machines, but she turned to offer a warm smile as they entered. “Hello again, Nelson,” she said cheerfully. “And Edwin! So, glad you could make it down. Quite exciting, isn’t it?”
“Good afternoon, Meagan,” Edwin asked genuinely curious, “What’s exciting?”
Meagan looked at Nelson in surprise. “You didn’t tell him?”
“I was getting to it,” he said defensively.
“Well, as you know,” said Meagan, “after the Elves left, we became aware of their ability to communicate via radio through the Gate. Although we suspected that there would be no further attempts to communicate now that they’re gone, we still wanted to be able to monitor, just in case. The only problem was, the equipment was under Pod Manufacturing, which made it quite inconvenient, considering all the personnel already down there working on different projects.”
Edwin was nodding. “Is this where you guys tell me something I don’t already know?” he asked.
“Meagan’s been heading up the effort to move all of that monitoring equipment up here. It seemed only fitting to restore the Observatory to its original intent—to monitor the outside for potential threats,” Nelson explained.
&
nbsp; “But the Therans aren’t going to announce their arrival if they decide to come back through,” Edwin pointed out. “That’s why we’re working on defenses. We don’t know when, if at all, to expect them.”
Nelson was nodding. “Here’s the thing though. I just came down to check on the status of the project, not expecting much. Well, I came in just as they were testing the frequency scanners. And this is where things get crazy.”
Reaching out, Nelson flicked a little silver toggle on one of the new panels, twisted a knob, and pressed a button. The sound of static filled the room, but there was something else there…voices. They were low, and grainy, but definitely voices.
“Therans?” he demanded, his stomach tightening.
“No,” said Nelson, the wide grin returning. “Humans. Humans outside of Sanctuary. I didn’t really believe it, you know? But it’s true. They’re really there. We aren’t alone.”
Edwin’s stomach remained in knots. “You’re sure?”
Nelson looked indignant. “Of course, we’re sure.”
Meagan nodded. “We haven’t been able to make out very much yet, but we’re working on it. And if we can strengthen the signal, we might be able to transmit as well! We could communicate with them! Can you imagine?”
Edwin moved to the machine, switching it off. “How many people know about this?”
Nelson looked distraught. He’d clearly been expecting Edwin to be elated and was confused by this sudden turn of events. “Just Meagan and her team,” he said.
“Listen to me very carefully, both of you,” Edwin said, moving closer and speaking quietly. “You need to make it clear to your team, immediately, that this is to be kept strictly confidential. I don’t want this becoming public knowledge. Do you understand?”
“Not really,” said Nelson, upset now.
“We don’t know anything about these people. Sanctuary has been here for over a century, and in all that time, we thought we were alone. Why didn’t anyone come to our aid?”
