The Buried Ark

by James Bradley

  I tensed, ready to fight. ‘Then who are you?’

  She stopped and held up a hand to the man in the coat. ‘My name is Dash and this is Dan. We’re part of an initiative to help fight the Change. I can explain more in a few minutes, but for now we need to run a couple more tests. Is that okay?’

  I stared at her warily. Her gaze was direct and there was no sign of nervousness or agitation. ‘What kind of tests?’

  ‘Nothing invasive. We took blood while you were unconscious. We just want to use the scanner.’

  Dan held up the scanner and smiled.

  I nodded. ‘Okay.’

  Dash waited while I sat on the bed and Dan ran the scanner over my chest and arms.

  ‘Well?’ Dash asked.

  He looked over the top of his glasses at her. ‘Still no indication of metamorphic engagement,’ he said.

  Dash smiled, and for a brief moment I was aware of a guardedness beneath the surface. ‘Excellent.’ Turning to me she indicated the door. ‘Shall we go?’

  I followed her out into the lab. A woman in a white coat was waiting outside the door, a bundle of clothes in her hand.

  ‘This is Brahmi,’ Dash said. She was young, barely thirty, with dark hair worn high on her head.

  Brahmi smiled and offered me the clothes. ‘We thought you might like to get dressed,’ she said.

  I shook my head. ‘Not until somebody tells me where I am.’

  Brahmi and Dash glanced at each other. ‘Put the clothes on and I’ll show you,’ Dash said.

  Uncertain what to do, I took the clothes. Brahmi pointed to a door.

  ‘Through there,’ she said.

  The door led to a windowless room with a bench on one wall and lockers on the other. I removed my gown then unfolded the clothes. They seemed to be some kind of uniform – green overalls and a white T-shirt, neither quite my size but both clean and comfortable – and I pulled them on thankfully, then slipped on the pair of sneakers they had provided.

  ‘Excellent,’ Dash said when I emerged.

  ‘Now,’ I said. ‘I want to know where I am.’

  Dash nodded and led me to the heavy door at the far end of the lab and punched an access code into the panel beside it. There was a soft clunk. Dash pulled the door toward us and gestured to me to step through.

  I stepped into a short passage with another heavy door at the far end. Dash closed the door behind us and the lock clunked again, then there was a click and a hum and blue light filled the space.

  ‘Decontamination,’ Dash said without looking around. After a space of seconds the light flicked off and a moment later the humming stopped. Dash stepped forward and, opening the second door, stood aside so I could pass.

  At first I was too surprised to speak. Instead of finding myself in another room or a corridor or even outside, I was standing in what seemed to be a cave: a long, low chamber lit by lights bolted to the walls. Stalactites hung from the ceiling; on the walls limestone drips had formed layered patterns of white and yellow and red. I turned on the spot. The door I had just stepped through was set into the front of a demountable structure that stood in the cave, its flat roof almost scraping the cavern’s ceiling.

  ‘Where are we?’ I asked.

  Dash smiled. ‘I’ll explain in a minute.’ Indicating I should follow, she led me across the floor of the cavern to the far end, where a round metal door like that on a safe was built into the rock. She tapped a panel and it swung open.

  On the far side a tunnel led downward, its space lit by a long line of lamps attached to the ceiling. Unlike the cavern the tunnel seemed to have been cut through solid rock, and its sides were smooth, as if created by some vast boring machine. As we descended I reached out a hand; the stone was cool to the touch but dry and the air smelled of damp and earth.

  After a couple of hundred metres the tunnel levelled out, eventually terminating in a second door identical to the one above. Looking up at a security camera Dash motioned to somebody, and a moment later the door opened, releasing a small breath of air, as if the space on the other side was hermetically sealed.

  We stepped out into another cavern. This one was larger than the first, perhaps a hundred metres long and almost ten metres high. On the right the floor rose to meet the ceiling, the curve smooth with limestone; to the left the floor sloped away, dropping toward a dry creek bed lined with stalactites and fat stalagmites. As in the first cavern, light fell from lamps bolted to the wall and ceiling, their soft glow giving the space an odd, artificial feel. But while the first cave had been empty aside from the demountable, this one had several buildings along the high side, each opening onto a raised metal platform that extended out into the middle of the cave. Like the first they looked to be prefabricated, constructed out of metal and glass. In front of us a metal staircase led up to the platform.

  A guard in a black uniform stepped forward.

  ‘She’s been cleared,’ Dash said.

  ‘Of course,’ the guard said.

  As Dash stepped back she indicated I should go first, so grasping the banister I slowly climbed up, then followed the platform to the last and largest of the buildings, where she punched in a code on a security panel and ushered me through the door.

  We were in another lab, bigger and better equipped than the one I had woken up in. The air was warmer than the air in the cavern and had a faintly plastic scent, as if it was recycled. Through a pair of doors on one side several people were working in a second lab, but Dash ignored them and directed me across the lab and into what looked like a conference room.

  ‘If you could just wait here, I’ll be right back,’ she said in her bright way and, closing the door behind her, disappeared, only to reappear a moment later with a heavy-set man in elegantly cut trousers and shirt.

  He smiled. ‘Good morning, Callie,’ he said in a deep, rolling voice. ‘I’m Dr Omelas.’

  I nodded warily. He extended a hand toward the table and chairs. ‘Please,’ he said. ‘Sit.’

  I took a seat and he and Dash settled themselves opposite me. He was fifty or so, with black hair turning grey above a square face and black-rimmed glasses. His skin, once a deep brown, was oddly faded, almost grey.

  ‘Now,’ he said, ‘I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but first we need to ask you a few things. I understand from Sergeant Miller’s report that you were found wandering in the Zone.’

  I nodded. ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Obviously Sergeant Miller has told his superiors a lot of what you told him already, but perhaps you could explain what you were doing there in your own words.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ I said. ‘Who are you? What is this place? Am I under arrest?’

  Dr Omelas smiled. ‘Of course not.’

  I hesitated. It still didn’t make sense. Why was I here?

  Dr Omelas leaned forward. ‘Please, Callie. You have no reason to be afraid. Nobody here is going to hurt you. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through out there but you’re safe now. We want to help you.’

  Over his shoulder I could see Dash watching me. Finally I nodded. If they had Ben’s report, they probably knew everything anyway.

  ‘I have – I had – a sister. She began to Change. I came north with her because I didn’t want Quarantine to take her.’

  Dr Omelas regarded me carefully. ‘But that was several weeks ago.’

  ‘After we got there I . . . I stayed in the Zone.’

  ‘Sergeant Miller tells us you had contact with one of the Changed and that he claimed he was your father, Christian Adeyemi.’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘And this organism told you he’d developed a vaccine of some sort, a way of preventing the Change taking hold of an individual’s biology.’

  I swallowed. ‘He did.’

  ‘And he told you that you were given this vaccine as a chil
d?’

  ‘He did. I mean I was.’

  Dr Omelas looked down at his screen as if to confirm something. ‘We’re also told you were taken prisoner, but the Changed who captured you became ill.’

  ‘They did.’

  ‘Do you have any idea why that might have been?’

  I looked from one of them to the other. ‘My father told me the vaccine had begun to mutate in my system, that it seemed to be reacting against Changed biology in some new way.’

  ‘And you believed him?’

  I shook my head. ‘I don’t know. All I know is they became ill and we escaped.’

  Dr Omelas did not reply, just sat watching me. Dash stared at him, clearly waiting for him to continue. Finally he nodded.

  ‘Thank you, Callie,’ he said. ‘I appreciate your candour. Now, I imagine you have some questions for us.’

  I looked at the pair of them for several seconds. When I finally spoke it was carefully. ‘What is this place? What am I doing here?’

  ‘My apologies for the subterfuge,’ said Dr Omelas. ‘You were unconscious when you were found. After Sergeant Miller was debriefed and I learned of your experience, I requested you be transferred here as a matter of priority.’

  ‘You’re in charge here?’

  He laughed a deep, mellifluous laugh. ‘I suppose I am.’

  ‘And what about Ben? What happened to him?’

  ‘You mean Sergeant Miller? He’s in safe hands.’

  ‘He’s not . . .’

  ‘Infected?’ asked Dr Omelas. ‘No. Last I heard there was no sign of any infection.’ He paused. ‘From what I hear he was very fortunate.’

  ‘And what is this place?’

  Dr Omelas smiled. ‘Somewhere that doesn’t exist, at least not officially.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  He laughed. ‘Only a select few know about this place. We call it the Ark.’

  ‘The Ark?’

  He chuckled. ‘It’s not an entirely inaccurate description. Let me show you something.’

  Standing, he gestured to the window, which looked out into the cavern, and touched his screen. At the far end a light blinked on, illuminating a massive circular door set into a steel frame.

  ‘What is it?’ I asked.

  ‘In the first months after the Change arrived, when we began to realise something of what it might mean for the planet, some of us proposed we create a failsafe, a fallback of sorts. Rather than just give up, we argued we needed to do what we could to save what was left. And so we started collecting samples of organisms, seeds, spores, insect colonies, even larger mammals. We knew we couldn’t save it all, but we could save some of it. And so we began to build a network of facilities dedicated to safeguarding those samples as a way of preserving the Earth’s plenitude.’

  ‘And that’s what this is?’

  Dr Omelas smiled. ‘It is. But it’s also much more than that. Because in the years since we first created the Ark, as it’s become more and more clear that the Change poses an existential threat to life on Earth, we’ve expanded our thinking. Rather than a static repository, we’ve created a living environment, a facility capable not just of preserving samples, but of preserving humanity itself, a place where we can continue, without the constant threat of infection.’

  I looked around myself. ‘You live down here?’

  He smiled. ‘Not just me. Hundreds of us. Hundreds of people dedicated to preserving the miracle of terrestrial life.’

  ‘But how?’

  Dr Omelas shrugged. ‘Our systems are entirely self-contained. Geo-thermal power, agricultural facilities, air filters capable of preventing the entry of Changed matter or spores. Nobody gets in or out without being scanned, and any instances of infection are denied entry. We could wait out a nuclear war here in comfort.’ He paused and smiled. ‘Well, perhaps not comfort, exactly,’ he purred in his rolling voice. ‘But definitely safety.’

  I looked at the massive door, imagining the rows of cabinets behind it, their temperature-controlled contents waiting to be born again in some other, safer time.

  ‘And what part do I have in all this?’

  He smiled. ‘That remains to be seen, Callie. If what we’ve heard about you is true, you may be able to help us in more ways than one.’

  I looked from him to Dash and back. ‘Do I have a choice?’

  Dr Omelas smiled. ‘Of course you do. You can leave now if you want. But if what you’ve said about this vaccine of your father’s is correct, you can do a lot more good if you stay here.’

  ‘And if I choose to stay? What happens to me?’

  ‘Our work is important, Callie. We can find a way for you to contribute. Would you like that?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, realising I meant it. ‘Yes, I would.’

  Dr Omelas smiled. ‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘Excellent.’

  17

  Dash stood up. ‘Now,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you’d like to come and get something to eat.’ I nodded, suddenly aware I was starving. Dr Omelas opened his hands as if to say that seemed reasonable to him.

  Dash escorted me out and down a tunnel into another low-ceilinged cavern. In its centre, lights were suspended over a series of long tables and benches, and beyond them I could see a kitchen. Perhaps two dozen people sat in small groups at the tables, some talking, others working on screens, all dressed in the same green overalls as me.

  Leading me to a serving area by the kitchen, Dash picked up a plate and handed it to me. Still not quite believing what I was seeing, I filled my plate with a selection of the food on offer. There were noodles and various kinds of what seemed to be lentil and vegetable stews in pots, and bananas and strawberries and some other fruits I didn’t recognise piled on platters. Once my plate was full Dash led me back to a table and sat down opposite me.

  ‘Please,’ she said. ‘Don’t wait.’

  I scooped a spoonful up and gulped it down, and then another and another. After so many days without food it was all I could do not to shove it in by the handful.

  ‘How is it?’

  ‘Good,’ I said through a mouthful. ‘Really good.’

  Dash nodded. ‘We don’t have the facilities to keep many animals down here, but we’ve had a lot of success finding other sources of protein. And the agriculture and kitchen staff are very skilled.’

  I looked around, taking in the other people sitting around us. After the past weeks it was strange to be seated with somebody, eating normal food, talking as if the world were not insane.

  ‘Does everybody eat here?’

  ‘The more senior staff have private quarters and some of them eat there. But most of us eat here.’

  ‘How many are here?’

  Dash smiled. ‘Several hundred.’

  ‘And how were you chosen?’

  ‘Different ways. Mostly for scientific expertise, but we have teams with specific experience in other areas as well.’

  ‘Are you a scientist?’ I asked.

  Dash smiled and for a moment I saw that same edge I had seen in the lab. ‘No. I report directly to Dr Omelas. He specifically requested I be assigned with him.’

  I was about to ask another question when I noticed a boy and a girl approach the food counter. The boy was eight, or maybe nine, the girl, who had thick curly hair, was younger, four perhaps. They looked nothing like Gracie but still my throat constricted. Dash glanced around, then back at me.

  ‘That’s Julia and Zenith,’ she said.

  I nodded, unable to speak. Finally I cleared my throat and took a sip of water.

  ‘There are families here?’

  Dash nodded. ‘A number.’

  ‘You?’

  Although she caught herself quickly, I saw the way she stiffened at my question.

  ‘No.’

  I leaned back in my chair, lo
oking around. It was incredible. Suddenly a wave of exhaustion washed over me. Dash must have noticed because she looked concerned and asked if I was feeling all right.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘I think I just need to lie down. It’s a lot to take in.’

  Dash smiled. ‘Of course.’

  She led me to a small cave with a pair of prefabs in it. One was unoccupied, but the other held four small rooms. Unlocking one Dash waited until I was inside and then told me to call if there was a problem.

  The room was dry and warm, there was clean linen on the bed and, to my amazement, a bathroom cubicle with a shower. I stood under it for as long as I could, scrubbing at my skin and trying to tease some of the knots out of my hair. When I finally stepped out I stared at my reflection in the mirror. In the weeks since I had left Tim and Vanessa’s house my body had grown leaner, harder, the soft edges of it burned away. My ribs were visible through my skin, but I could see hard lines of muscle in my shoulders and legs. After so many weeks in the sun the skin on my shoulders and face was dark, the line of my singlet a shadow in reverse, and although the scar where I had torn my leg escaping Quarantine was the worst, my entire body was covered with cuts and bruises.

  But the face that looked back at me was still mine. More than once since I had lost Gracie I had wondered whether her absence would ever grow less acute, whether the hammer blows of grief for her and Matt and my father would be too much to survive. Here, now, I realised I was, if not happy or whole, at least intact, alive. A wave of sadness washed over me as I thought of Gracie, but for the first time I did not have to fight it down.

  I dried my hair, put on a T-shirt and lay down on the bed. After the past week it was strange not to have Ben beside me. Closing my eyes I felt memories of pursuit and fear come crowding in, but I pushed them away. Somewhere in the back of my skull I could still feel the Change, its insidious presence dancing on the edge of perception, but somehow I didn’t care. Impossible as it seemed, I was safe.

  I woke with a start. The room was dim, the only light a sliver from under the bathroom door, and the sheets smelled clean and fresh. At first I didn’t know where I was; unsettled by the almost anaesthetic quality to the air, I stared around, trying to recover some sense of orientation.