by Chris Ramos
Nimbus walked calmly from his study to the main chamber. It was a spacious conference room, the walls carved smooth and painted a pearlescent white. The sunlight softly filtered through the shades, accenting the walls and enlivening the color by producing a slight shimmer.
The room was dominated by a huge slab of granite, low enough to the ground that those attending his meetings would be required to sit with their legs folded underneath the table. This made for an uncomfortable setting, but Nimbus didn’t want them comfortable. If they were content to lounge around his assembly room all day, nothing would be accomplished. The single grand chair at the end was for Nimbus only. He sat above anyone at attendance, like the sun watching the weeds beneath him.
He sat at the head of the table and tapped on the arm of his chair, revealing a hidden storage box that had opened into the crook of his arm. There was a single harmonic bud that he placed in his ear for privacy.
“Report, Praetor,” Nimbus said.
The bald head of the LifeSpan Praetor appeared in the middle of the table. The hologram was a digital representation of the Praetor and did not move but only rotated slightly, expanding from a headshot to the full body of the Praetor in his complete regal clothing. The outfit was not unlike a Collector’s usual garb, except his was immensely more elaborate. The edges of his trench coat hems were carefully decorated with images of dark, rolling clouds, and the shoulders were stitched with a golden thread, showing concentric circles running over and under his arm. His lapels were crisp and ran the length of his torso, ending at points just above his knees. At the top of each lapel, there were three concentric rings embroidered, a signal of his ranking. The collar was stiff, standing a few inches off of his collarbone.
“Thank you for a timely response, sire. There was a disturbance at the LifeSpan Division Four building that was unusually . . . eventful,” his voice droned out. “It appears an employee was screened with a refugee who dropped off the grid some years ago.”
“Please, get to the point, Praetor. I sense you are holding back some vital information. Is your sector under control?” Nimbus leaned forward.
“Yes, sire. We have reviewed the digifiles and it was a female. She fought sir. She moved and lashed out in the old ways. Someone trained her in the Bellicose method.” The Praetor’s voice was filled with confusion. His hologram was void of emotion, but Nimbus heard a slight tremble as he gave the report.
“The boy must have established contact. As we had hoped,” Nimbus deduced. “Working for us, learning our secrets, but to what end?”
“Sire? Your orders?” the Praetor’s metallic voice rang out.
“Cole Jenkins no longer works at LifeSpan, and as far as anyone knows, he never has. Purge the records, blacklist him on every database, flag every form of identification. Destroy his entire work log. Compile all video surveillance, direct messages, and bring them to me. Search his office belongings for any useful information.”
“Yes, my sire.” The Praetor’s voice faded out. He must have bowed his head in acknowledgment away from the microphone. “We shall leave no trace of his former existence. Will there be anything else?”
Nimbus schemed. “Yes, one more thing.”
“Sire?”
“Take his aunt in for questioning. Tell her Cole is the leader of a resistance and by association, she is an accomplice.”
SUBMERGED
Emma surfaced for the third time, swimming over to Cole, who was bobbing in the water. His brow was furrowed and his arms were tiring. They had been treading water for close to a half-hour now, and Cole was running out of energy. Cole was still in shock from actually being chased by Collectors. What was he thinking?
He had resorted to hugging the pier’s post out of sheer exhaustion, trying to keep his head above the salt water lapping into his eyes and mouth. The seagulls were flying above in lazy circles. A few had gathered on the pier, looking at Cole. He wished they would go away before revealing their location to the Collectors. Emma seemed completely at home in the water, diving down as nimbly as a fish, searching for a submerged doorway. She was in great shape and hardly noticed the water’s constricting effects.
She had told Cole there was a doorway grate under the pier, and they should take refuge in the small confines until later that night. As long as he didn’t have to tread water any longer, he was willing to stay in the hiding place until it was safe.
As the sun was nearing the horizon line, almost even with the water’s edge, Emma’s head broke the surface a short distance from Cole.
“I’ve found it,” she said as she was spitting the water back into the ocean. “Fortunately, the safety it provides has not been jeopardized by recreational divers. It is a challenging swim. Are you up for this?”
“I think I can manage.” Trying to impress her, Cole puffed up his chest.
“You look terrible,” she responded.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m fine.”
Emma pushed herself close to him and removed his hand from the post, pulling it to her shoulder. Cole placed his other hand on her waist, their bodies bobbing as one, their faces separated only because the push and pull of the ocean’s waves kept them apart. The seagulls were growing in number.
He looked at her, with the sun dipping into the ocean, beginning its nightly routine, and streaking the sky into deep purple and blue ripples.
Cole was taken by the beauty of Emma, her hair slicked back from her face, beads of water running down from her hairline, glistening on her skin, her eyes reflecting the purple sky.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered.
Emma was so focused on the task, and more seagulls were gathering now, with two people now in the water. She didn’t hear him. “Well then, here we go. Take a deep breath, and do not let go of my hand.”
She didn’t have to worry about that. Cole filled his lungs with air, closed his mouth, and Emma pulled them both below the waves.
Cole and Emma swam deep down, periodically feeling ahead in the murk, checking that the pier post was still next to them. Emma was careful not to lose their bearings. The Father had told her of this hiding place in case any one of her group needed a spot to hide and be out of the reach of Collectors. He had known this would happen. He had told her on many occasions she was too brash, moving too quickly. The Father had told her she was becoming too attached to Cole, but she knew that couldn’t be avoided. The die had been cast.
Emma had to make contact with the Movement. First, she had to take refuge, lie low for a while, and explain the circumstances to Cole. He deserved that much.
They swam deeper. She couldn’t see Cole’s face, but he gripped her harder once the light filtering through the surface dimmed. Now they were in darkness, with only the pier post to guide them. She could feel his tension building, through his grip and erratic swimming. The seaweed and moss was thick along the wooden shaft, entangling their arms and legs, but they dared not drift too far from their only guide. It was old that much was easy to distinguish. Most everything made out of wood was replaced with LifeSpan’s plasteel. Emma wondered why this was an exception. Probably because the pier was seldom used. Not many people owned private boats, and anyone needing to travel by sea were directed to the larger, main ports farther south. Long ago, mass transit became the preferred oceanic travel method.
This pier was probably used by local fisherman ages ago, with their vessels eventually replaced by the fishing-farm buildings scattered across the countryside. Private fishermen, spending every morning afloat in the sea netting oceanic life, were also stamped out by LifeSpan. There was no need to spend days at sea when the fish were grown in a birthing warehouse.
Cole could barely stand it any longer; his lungs felt like they would burst, but he didn’t want to let Emma down. He grabbed her hand harder, if that were even possible, and tried to ignore the pressure mounting in his head and chest. Suddenly, Emma pulled him close to the post, and then rolled into his chest, her back facing him. She wr
apped his arms around her neck and swam with him piggy-backed into an oblong chamber. Cole could not see how large the opening was or where it was located, but he felt a sudden pressure change. It was the undeniable effect of entering a cramped space. He didn’t need light to tell him they were in a tube. A very narrow tube, with barely enough room to swim.
Finally, their heads burst out of the water, and he felt air rush into his lungs. Their hands separated. Cole gasped, spitting water. He relished the deep breaths he was able to take. His lungs were on fire. He’d never had to hold his breath for so long. He looked around for Emma in the darkness. She must be similarly starved for air. Cole thought he could nurture her somehow.
“Stay here. There is a ledge farther up. I’ll be right back.” Emma’s voice echoed loudly, emphasizing the size of this room, or wherever they were. Cole had the feeling it was a metal enclosure, because of how it reverberated with her voice. It resounded with a metallic undertone.
Cole slowly swam forward, reaching his hands out, trying to find whatever ledge Emma was talking about. He moved sluggishly, head bobbing from exhaustion, his arms barely managing the flopping that propelled him forward. He stopped attempting to swim, worried he was going in the wrong direction, anyway, and expending unnecessary energy, when the room filled with light.
He immediately covered his face, shielding his eyes that burned from the murky saltwater, and let his pupils focus.
When he was able to see through squinted vision, Emma was standing above him, the ledge mercifully only a few feet away. She reached down and extended her hand, grabbing his, and pulled him up. She didn’t seem tired at all. Cole wanted to collapse onto the platform, but forced himself to stand up next to Emma. He still leaned over, his elbows on his knees, but was standing on his feet. His nanos were feeding oxygen back into his body.
“What is this place?” He glanced around the room, now clearly showing a metal frame, connecting in a crisscross pattern of silver and gray, with metal rafters running high above. Cascading in rigid symmetry, like the belly of some large whale, ribbed reinforcements ran the length of the walls. Cole couldn’t tell how deep the enclosure was, but had a feeling it was massive.
“It was an old military submarine. It must have sunk off of the harbor, embedding itself in the muddy walls and forgotten.”
“A submarine? When was the last time a submarine was even in commission?”
“More recently than you know,” Emma said mysteriously.
“So where is the crew? Perished with the ship? Still here somewhere?”
“Relax, Cole, from what my people can tell, they must have evacuated. Large sections of the ship’s electronics are gone, and there were no supplies except what we have furnished over the last few visits.”
Cole walked over and sat down in a chair, a chair that would never have been on a boat of this age, for it was too new.
He studied the room. It was fairly expansive, with doorways and nooks leading off into the shadows. There were furnishings, as Emma had said, with a cooler chest, canned foods, even a bed in the corner, with lighting daisy-chained throughout. This was a hideout in every sense of the word, and that thought brought Cole’s attention back to his current situation.
“Alright, now you explain what just happened. Speaking of your people, I know they aren’t deep-sea divers furnishing underwater hotels. What is really going on here? And how did you know about my mother’s journal, and who is Jennifer? Who is Emma? And when you are done answering those—”
“Cole, stop. We’ll be down here for most of the night. We should change out of our wet clothes. Your nanos may be able to ward off hypothermia, but I can’t.”
“What do you mean by that?” Cole couldn’t help asking, after her odd comment.
Emma didn’t take the bait. Instead she got up and walked over to an armoire. It was stocked with clothing, all neatly folded and organized, men’s and women’s clothing. Whoever stocked this place, they were thinking ahead.
She threw a change of clothes in Cole’s direction and stepped behind a screen to swap her wet clothes with dry. He did the same.
After changing, he looked down at his new attire. Plain linen pants, loose and airy, with a button-up pale blue shirt, short sleeved and a little too big for him. Surprisingly, the room was warm and he didn’t need extra layers of clothing. Emma said the submarine was sunken into the mud walls; that would explain the warmth. But he found it hard to believe everyone that had come here would swim down from the pier. There had to be another way in and out.
“My real name is Jennifer Jacobs. I expired eight years, 128 days and six hours ago, give or take a day.” Cole turned to her voice. She had walked out from the screen and was wearing a light cotton dress, hugging her body in the few spots where the ocean water wasn’t completely dry. Cole was mesmerized. He didn’t realize how shapely she was. Her usual outfits were layers of shirts, pants with extra pockets, and jackets. She always wore a hooded jacket.
Emma walked towards him, talking as she advanced. Cole kept quiet and just took in her body.
“I am part of the Movement against LifeSpan, as I told you when the Collectors were coming for us. They were coming for me. I am one of the hunted. We have lived outside of the system, choosing to band together and combine our intelligence for an eventual trial against LifeSpan. They will answer for their crimes, and humanity will be the judge, not them.”
“So you are a group of terrorists? What has LifeSpan ever done to you?”
“They have oppressed us, Cole. The entire world. They oppress people, they oppress weather, they oppress finances, nature, where you live, what you learn, who you marry, when you have children.” Emma looked into his eyes. “They even oppress our ability to die.”
Emma was standing in front of him now, a wild look in her eyes, as she was preaching her litany. He could see the passion; her disdain of LifeSpan exuded from her very pores. They had been walking towards each other as their conversation wore on. Once again, Cole found himself inches from her, but this time he didn’t back away.
“They organized the entire world, Emma. They were there when nobody else would take the job. We owe our very existence as a civilization to LifeSpan. There are no more wars, there is no fighting.”
“My people fight. We fight them on every front,” Emma shot back.
“LifeSpan stopped us from killing ourselves,” Cole said.
“They tell us when to die. How is that any different?”
“If you are gathering intelligence and waging a secret war against LifeSpan, what do I have to do with it? I don’t want to fight LifeSpan. I work there, remember?”
“Well, I would guess you’ve just been fired.” Emma smiled.
“I don’t know Emma, I didn’t want to be dragged into all of this. Why didn’t you just run away, leave me there for the Collectors? I didn’t do anything wrong.” Cole reached out and grabbed her shoulders in frustration.
“They were using you Cole, promoting you. I was assigned to you. I was using you for my reconnaissance. But something else happened. My judgment was clouded.” Emma knew this wouldn’t sit well.
“I was an assignment?” Cole backed away from her.
“You turned into much more than that, Cole, you turned into my friend. Something that was out of my control. I was sloppy. I let myself get too deep. I should have let you go, let LifeSpan control you. They control everything else, what’s one more?”
“They can’t control our feelings,” he said, trying to see the silver lining here.
“I can’t control my feelings,” Emma whispered.
And suddenly they were embracing each other, kissing deeply. Cole ran his hands through her hair, pulling her close, afraid to lose her.
They continued kissing, ignoring the threat that loomed over their relationship. Inside this sub, buried in the earthen mud and hidden below the saltwater, they were happy. Once they reached the surface, there would be no rest; they were both outlaws.
Co
le pushed her away from him, gently holding her at bay, his breathing heavy.
“I’ve always loved you, I just never thought you were interested in me, y’know, in that way,” Cole admitted.
“Cole, it was complicated. It still is complicated. I was working on an assignment. I was living two lives.” Her words were spoken softly, with the metal surroundings adding a tin echo behind him.
“We can return to the surface, turn ourselves in, tell them it was an accident. There were witnesses. They would know it was in self defense.”
“There wasn’t an outward threat, I reacted too soon. The witnesses would call me a madwoman. Cole, if we did turn ourselves in, what would you expect? They slap us on the wrists and let us go? We lead a normal life? That option is not available to us.” Emma let go of him, shaking her head. “There is a reason I don’t get involved with assignments. I told you I was one of the hunted. There’s an explanation why I failed identification, why I can’t buy anything, why I can’t enter LifeSpan buildings.”
She sat down on the edge of the bed, thinking about her next announcement. Cole sat down with her, taking her hands. The water was rippling against the metal railing, pulling back into the floor opening, and creating an erratic gurgling. The lighting was sparse, only illuminating half of their features. Emma lowered her head, unable to look Cole in the eyes. A shadow fell across her face.
She looked down as she spoke.
“Cole, I do not have any nanos in my body. When I died, they were taken out of me.”
GUEST
The scrubbing bot was finishing its last round of the kitchen as Aunt Hester turned the corner, stepping in from the backyard. She shook off her shoes at the threshold, knowing the sweeper bot would be there soon. She had placed her glass down on the table and wanted to pour another helping of wine when the porch monitor chimed.
Finally, Cole was back from his day. If only he spent as much time at home as he did with that girl, we would get to know each other better. He’s just like my sister, Hester thought as she poured the wine, the aroma wafting up to fill her nostrils.
