“OK…”
“The wind on the surface churns up the water. Waves are the obvious result of this, but it acts like a blender. Air gets mixed in with the water on the surface, so immediately the water on the surface is contaminated by the air up there.”
“Mmhmm, that much I remember from school.”
“The radiation might do different things at that point. It may just stay at that depth, and in that general area. Or it may drift with ocean currents. The radiation in the air is pretty uniform, so we can’t tell if what we’re reading was mixed in the water directly above, or on the other side of the planet. Regardless, the water eventually makes its way to the north, and as the surface water cools, it drops down towards the bottom. Now the radiation has gone deep, but there is so much more water down there, the radiation gets rather diluted. So even if it starts getting moved around with other currents, it’s not strong enough to cause any threat to us. That’s why we live so deep. One of the concerns with the attack a few months ago wasn’t just that we may have been grounded, but that in our carelessness trying to escape, we entered shallower waters and picked up more radiation than we would have in 50 years traveling at depth.” As she took another bite, she waved off the question that Thom was obviously about to ask.
“Don’t worry, we’re fine. All that is the conventional wisdom. But up until 25 years ago, we had no idea if this was a set, stable system. As in, if the radiation in the atmosphere would continue to poison the ocean, and eventually we wouldn’t be able to go deep enough to avoid it. Not to mention destroying what little life is left down here.”
“So what happened 25 years ago?”
“There was a group of scientists, one in particular, who led a campaign to convince the Council to build this station. It needed to be near a trench so that they could sample the water at many different levels. We had no baseline readings, you see. So the background radiation the ship, and our drysuits, are easily able to cope with, well, we didn’t know if there was actually more 50 years earlier, or even earlier than that. By the time our forefathers built the Uni and the Pop, they were more concerned with survival than scientific tests, and then more concerned with killing each other than with science at all. So we needed a baseline, and going deep was the only way to establish one. So it came down to that one scientist, who had the theory and the confidence to fight against the conventional wisdom at the time.”
“Which was that everything was fine.”
“Right. That scientist was also conveniently married to an influential Council member,” Ralla said, taking the final bite of her sandwich. It took Thom a moment, but he leaned back in his chair and nodded.
“Oh.”
“Exactly. So my mom spearheaded the project, came up with the design for the labs and even some of the equipment, and was the natural choice to lead the team that would stay out here collecting data. I was four when my mom left, and every time it would look like she’d be coming home, there would be some new theory, some new test she would have to oversee or try out. Testing water isn’t the only thing they do here. That water you’re drinking? My mom and her team came up with a way to purify it in half the time, using half the energy as the old way. The harvests in the Garden doubled in less than two years because of that.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. For a lot of years I'd look at a glass of water and think, you took my mom away from me. But I’ve come to terms with how she is. And she and my dad don’t seem to have any resentment about how it all played out. I don’t know, sometimes I wonder if they ever…” She looked up at Thom, casually scratching his stubble with his thumbnail. “Most people look at me different when I tell them what it was like for me growing up. But not you. Why?”
Thom shrugged. “You knew your mom, and could talk with her when you wanted, for the most part. That’s better than I could do, so I guess it makes you seem a little more normal to me, not less. Not sure who you all hang out with, but among my friends, my story is a lot more common than not.
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey, if growing up didn’t suck, how would we know what good a time we’re having now? I mean, wasn’t that the best cold sandwich you’ve had in a remote isolated research station?”
Ralla smiled. “Thank you, Thom.” It was irritating how much she wanted to kiss him right then. And like that, her animosity from the night before vanished. He may be a drunk sometimes, but he really did try. “Want to take a look around? We came all this way.”
“Why, are we leaving?”
“Oh, sorry, right. Well my dad sent me here to get my mom. Her work is critically important, and we couldn’t let her be killed or be captured by the Pop. She thinks he just wants her there to take care of him now that he’s close to dying.”
The casualness with which the words left her mouth surprised even her.
“How about this: lets walk around, check this place out. See if we can not throw up standing on one of those insane clear walkways. Then you can have another run at your mom. If she still shoots you down, we can kidnap her.”
The little spark in her eye when she heard that scared him a little.
“Ralla, I was kidding.”
“I know you were.”
The building walls were all paper-thin, no more than an orangey-yellow plastic membrane stretched between black metal and composite support frames. Somehow this was strong enough to create multi-storied structures. The tallest was three floors, its roof about two stories below the ceiling of the station. As Ralla and Thom walked around, they found mostly dormitories, one other eatery (a café), and a large room labeled “Theater,” with a screen hardly bigger than the personal vidscreens found in many cabins on the Uni. No bars, no real entertainment, nothing superfluous.
“People come here for three to six months at a time, then head back,” Ralla told Thom as they were walking. “About 20 percent sign up for another stint, but the rest continue the research back on the Uni. The longest, other than my mom, have been here about nine years.”
“I think I’d go insane in a place like this.”
“Me too.”
As they reached the far end of the station, Thom eyed the pool.
“It’s so weird they just leave it open like that.”
Ralla stomped on the floor. Thom, took a step back, and looked at it as if for the first time. The deckplates they were standing on were fused together, with a defined line running in an arch shape behind them. The shape and length of the fused plates were such that if it pivoted up from the end closest to the pool, it would fit snuggly with the ceiling and walls. It reminded Thom of draw bridges he had seen in vids as a kid.
“Well, that’s rather genius.”
“They needed a way to lock off the pools in case of an emergency, but they had no real walls or ceiling to hide the door.”
“As I said: genius.” They were alone, standing side by side, looking back on the cluster of buildings at the center of the oblong dome. They soon found themselves sitting on a pile of shipping containers lining the wall. Ralla’s feet dangled, so she tapped the hard plastic with her heels. Ralla felt she should say something, but Thom beat her to it.
“I’m sorry about the other day. It was my first off in weeks and I hadn’t seen my friends in forever.”
“Thom, stop. Don’t apologize. I had no right to be mad.”
“Yeah, but...”
“Please. It’s fine.”
“Fine like it’s fine or fine like you’ll yell at me later for it.”
“Thom...”
“OK. ”
The echoes of Ralla’s random tapping thundered in the silence that had appeared between them. He really didn’t have anything to apologize for, she thought. Why did he even bring it up? The quiet got the better of her, as it often did.
“I don’t think I could work here. It’s so damp and creepy,” Ralla said, surprised at the nervousness in her voice.
“It’s because I’m afraid I’ll turn out like my father,�
� Thom answered. There was only a moment while Ralla adjusted to the new direction of the conversion.
“I’m afraid I won’t,” she replied.
The station creaked beneath them. Water lapped against the edges of the pool. Thom lifted his right arm up, and after a moment’s hesitation, she slid over and under it. She hadn’t realized she had been cold. He always smelled so good. She could hear his voice resonating in his chest before her brain focused on the words.
“I think we could make it work,” he said. Ralla stiffened, the conversation progressing much faster than she had anticipated.
“Make what work?”
“This place. If you and I had to work here,” he said, motioning towards the station with his free arm. She relaxed with a short laugh.
“Sure. A few colored lights.”
“Exactly. Some trees.”
“Maybe a dance floor?” Ralla said with a smile.
“Absolutely. Techs love a good dance. Me too. I get some of my best standing-around done at dances,” Thom said, his face deadpan. Ralla elbowed him playfully. She tilted her head to look up at his face, her hair falling to partially bock her view. His eyes were locked on hers. His head moved almost imperceptibly closer.
Then suddenly his grip relaxed, and he let his arm drop from her shoulders as he leaned back.
“Man, all this talk of not dancing has gotten me wondering what these techs do in their spare time,” Thom said, carefully looking away from her down towards the rest of the station. Ralla sat up, and pulled her hair behind her ears. “When did your mom say she’d be done? he asked, looking back at her, though not as piercingly as just moments before.
It came to her suddenly: He’s worried about Cern! That made her want Thom more than she had when she leaning against his warm chest.
“Thom,” she started, but it was too late. Thom slid himself off the crate. Everything that she wanted to say welled up into her throat and stuck there. Her mind focused on what he had said.
“She didn’t. We can start back home now if you want, or we can see if we can stay the night and start back in the morning.”
“Let’s stay. It will be like a mini vacation.”
“Ha!” Ralla snorted, not saying in the single syllable how pleased she was for the extra time.
“A pseudo-vacation?”
“How about a night away from home that doesn’t involve sleeping on the floor of a sub?”
“Perfect, just want I always wanted.”
Perfect, indeed, she thought.
IV
Thom awoke on the floor, his face just barely not smushed against the wall. It took a moment for his brain to warm up and register the fact that wasn't where his face was when he fell asleep. He rolled over and looked at the bed along the other wall, and definitely remembered crawling into it last night. Had he rolled out of it? That would be a first; he usually woke up in the same position he fell asleep in. The clock in the wall said it was 03:20. Ralla said she had wanted to talk to him later, but hadn’t returned from talking to her mom. So he had called it an early night without even a drink.
As he crawled to his feet, his brain registered the sound of the explosion at exactly the instant the floor beneath his feet failed him. This time he hit the floor hard, his head clanging against the deckplates in a way that would have been humorous under different circumstances. He dressed quickly.
In the alley outside, people were emptying out of their rooms wearing expressions that ranged from confusion to panic. He knocked on the door to the cube next to his, the one where Ralla had put her things. No answer. Opening the door, he found a nearly identical room to his own: sparse, stark, empty.
There were no alarms, but he could hear shouting in the distance. It was faint, but unmistakable.
Then weapons fire. Thom’s blood ran cold. In the tiny plaza, really just an open space where several buildings had their front doors, techs and scientists milled around trying to decide what to do. Thom took off at a fast jog towards the main lab. Bursting through the front door, he made his way to the middle but found it empty. Turning to leave, movement caught his attention. Through the glass floor he watched a submarine pass silently under the station. It was not a sub from the Uni. He left at a full sprint.
There was more weapons fire, louder this time. Either he was moving closer to it, or they were moving towards him. Or both. Wails of panic filled the silence between the bursts of weapons. He hit the Mess door at full speed, finding Ralla pleading with her mother as they crouched behind an upended table. Both looked at Thom as the door boomed into the wall. Ralla’s mom looked from one to the other, and then walked briskly towards Thom.
“Thom Vargas, I’m Awbee Fratl Gattley,” she said, like it was a greeting at a fancy dinner. “Please get my Daughter back to the Universalis.”
“Mom, NO!” Ralla begged, getting to her feet. Awbee strode past Thom and headed directly towards the lab.
“I’ll see if I can get the sub ready; you get her,” he said, motioning over his shoulder. Ralla ran out the Mess after her mom. Thom ran other way and burst out the back door of the building. His momentum plowed him directly into an armed and uniformed man who was caught so off-guard he hit the metal deckplates and was knocked out cold. Thom didn’t recognize the uniform, and didn’t care.
He picked up the rifle, which was not similar to the one he had fired in training. The sidearm, though, was a dead ringer. Slinging the rifle over his shoulder and readying the sidearm, he continued through the alleys in the general direction of the transport. His pace was slower, not figuring he’d be so lucky twice. Peeking around the edge of the last building, he saw a clear path to the transport, bobbling in the water untouched. Around the pool he could make out heaped drysuits and handprops, at least a dozen. He started back towards the lab.
As Thom forced his way through the panicked frenzy gripping the inhabitants of the station, it occurred to him how poorly people, in general, handled crisis. Around him, with no thought other than “escape,” they ran in every direction, clogging logical escape paths and ignoring others.
Fish, he realized, for all their lesser abilities, at least knew how to react. Danger! Flee! Stay together! All with a purpose. All without speech. Well now Thom had a purpose, and for it he didn't need speech either. But first, he had to get back to the lab.
Hearing voices from around a corner, he pressed himself against a wall. The door beside him was open, and he slid quietly into what must have been a small office, judging from the debris covering the floor. The struggle to get whoever was in here out must have been substantial. He crouched in the corner, gun aimed at the door. He watched as a rifle barrel nudged the door back open.
“How are we going to get all these people back to the ship?” one of the voices asked. He sounded young—not much past school, if that.
“Probably take them in shifts. Or maybe they’ll send another sub. What I want to know is why all these people are way up here. There’s nothing around here for half a hemi.” The other voice sounded to be the same age. They started speculating as to the purpose of the dome as they walked away. When he could no longer hear them, Thom sprang from his spot, peeked out from the door, and continued inexorably towards the center of the station.
In the otherwise abandoned lab Ralla was yelling at her mother. To her credit, Awbee seemed to be gathering files from her terminal and saving them to memsticks.
“There’s at least a dozen of them,” Thom said, startling Ralla. “They’re spreading out through the station. It doesn’t seem very organized. I’m not sure they expected to find the station here.”
“Can we get to the sub?” Ralla asked.
“I think so, but we need to go now while they’re still trying to round everyone up.”
“I’m not leaving my people. You two take the data and get back to the Universalis.”
Ralla stepped in front of Thom and pulled his head down so she could speak in his ear.
“Getting her off this statio
n is the only priority. Get it? Last night she showed me what she’s been working on, and it’s more important than you could imagine. We have to get her back to the Uni, no matter what.” Ralla released him, and he looked over at Awbee.
“Let me be clear, Mrs. Gattley. I’m leaving with both of you, and that is the end of the discussion. How soon until you’re done?”
“I’m as done as I can be. If they destroy this station…” said Awbee, looking around the lab.
“I don’t think they have any idea what this place is, though I suppose that could go either way. We’re going straight to the sub; you two need to stay right behind me. OK?”
The two woman nodded.
“Thom, give me the rifle. Or the pistol, either one,” Ralla said flatly. Thom looked at each weapon, then handed her the pistol.
“Sweetie,” Awbee said, resting a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “What if he needs that?”
“No, mom, what if I need it.” Shrugging off her mother’s hand, Ralla clicked off the safety and checked the charge, all in one fluid motion. She nodded to Thom to proceed.
They moved as a unit from edge of building to edge of building though the narrow “streets” of the station, making it to the Mess in no time. There was no one else around. Behind them, in the distance, they could hear voices and occasional screams. Then it was out though the Mess, retracing Thom’s steps back towards their sub. While moving along the edge of the building across from the Mess, they encountered a patrol of two uniformed men.
It took Thom just a moment too long to duck back behind the wall, and all hell broke loose. The soldiers immediately started firing and shouting for backup. They backtracked along the wall to try to go around, and came under fire from another patrol. Cut off from their sub, they crouched down against the wall, Thom shooting blindly around the nearest corner, Ralla down along the building the other way, keeping them covered.
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