by JN Chaney
We are still investigating the situation, but the technicians are saying it wasn’t a malfunction or an accident. That’s all we have right now. I’ll update you with more information as we receive it.
End Audio File
December 29, 2346
Unknown
The tunnel was darker than the city, dimly lit by the old technology running along the corners of the ceiling. Most of the lights were out now, of course, which only made traveling through the passageways all the more dangerous. At times, there was no telling what lay ahead—two centuries of negligence had left it in a broken state. Dust covered the walls like blankets, making it difficult to breathe. The smell, sour and bitter like stale fruit, was full enough to taste.
Alex slid his palm across the dirty, metal walls, flicking the grime from his fingertips after enough of it had accumulated. He wiped his palms against his coat, placed his hand back on the wall and proceeded to do it again. Most of the flakes came off as easily as they went on, but the sweat and oil from his skin mixed with the fragments that remained, creating a layer of sludge on his skin, like a natural chalk powder. The more he wiped the walls, the more grime he gathered. Exactly what I need.
As he came around the curve of the hall, he spotted Cole waiting for him. “I’m ready,” Alex yelled, clapping his hands. “I’ve got this.”
“Careful, Alex,” said Cole, pointing to a dangling piece of steel nearby. “It’s a long way down, and this thing looks pretty flimsy.”
Careful? Alex rolled his eyes. “If you wanted to be careful, you should’ve stayed at home. The Surface ain’t no place for kids!”
“Hey, I’m no kid,” said Cole.
“What? I can’t hear you, little kid.”
“I said I’m not no kid!” yelled Cole.
Alex chuckled. “Damn right you ain’t.” He walked to the edge of the platform and examined the hole. “Okay, so I’ll leap and grab the ladder there. You follow, got it? We’ll climb up together. Easy.”
“Sure, yeah, easy.” Cole cleared his throat and gulped.
Alex took a deep breath. It wasn’t a long jump, but missing it could mean his life. He gave the order to stand back, and Cole followed it. With the area cleared, Alex walked to the back of the hall, readying himself.
He launched into a full sprint.
As he reached the edge, he leapt high and for a brief moment, flew. His chest hit the railing dead on, nearly knocking the wind out of his lungs, but he managed an arm through one of the openings, catching himself. He wrapped his body around it, doing his best to ignore the pain of the collision. He wheezed and gasped for air, trying to replenish his lungs, holding his grip with every ounce of strength his arms could wield. Don’t look down, he thought. Don’t let go.
“Are you okay?” Cole asked. It was a stupid question, but Alex let it slide. He didn’t have enough air to waste on sarcasm right now.
“Yeah,” he said and left it at that. Alex pulled himself up a few steps and waited for his body to relax. He hated how fragile his muscles were, how weak the city’s air made him. Once they were on the surface, tasks like this would be easy. Their bodies would adjust to the Variant and everything would be better—more like the chamber, only all the time. He’d never be weak again. “Are you ready?” he asked. “You’ll have to jump and grab my arm.”
“Alright,” said Cole. He reached out his hand but couldn’t connect to Alex. “I gotta jump to make it.”
Clinging to the railing, Alex snapped his fingers at Cole. “Do it,” he ordered. “Hurry!”
Cole jumped almost immediately. Their hands failed to connect, but Alex caught the boy’s shoulder. “You idiot,” Alex said, once he pulled Cole up. “You realize you almost died right there?”
Cole didn’t answer until they had climbed to the next platform. “Long way down,” he finally said, scanning the pit below. “Maybe we’re almost there.”
Moronic. They still hadn’t reached the midpoint yet, not according to the blueprints they’d downloaded. Perhaps the hole in the ground seemed large to Cole, but soon he would undoubtedly see what Alex already could—this was only the beginning.
He grunted and pressed on. He could teach Cole later when they had the extra time. For now, they had to keep moving.
Getting to the surface was the only thing that mattered now.
*******
December 30, 2346
Central
Nuber stood in Bishop’s office, along with Captain Ross and Doctor Archer. He wanted nothing more than to be somewhere else.
“There’s been a breach, sir,” Ross explained to Bishop. “Two boys. We have them on camera, heading through the sealed access hatch near the sewage facility. They appear to be in their teens. We think they’re students.”
Colonel Bishop sat at his desk and let out a long sigh. He gripped the side of his chair and squeezed. “I’m not in the mood for this. It’s two in the morning.”
“I’ve checked the boards, and it looks like it’s Alex and Cole,” said Nuber. He clasped his hand around his neck, sliding it against the morning’s new stubble. In his rush, he’d forgotten to shave.
“Great,” Bishop said. “So they’ve run off to do what, exactly? Where does that passage lead?”
“To the surface,” said Ross. “But there was a leak a few decades ago, so the tunnel was sectioned off and closed. Some Variant seeped in.”
“Can they make it through?” asked Bishop.
Ross looked uneasy. “There’s a manual release valve for the quarantined section. If they manage to open it, the next compartment door will automatically lock. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“What are the hell are they trying to do?” asked Bishop.
“Head topside, obviously,” said Nuber.
Bishop scoffed. “How do they even know how to get there?”
“It’s my fault,” said Nuber. “We went over the city’s infrastructure a few months ago. I showed the blueprints in class, but I never handed out copies. They must have stolen them.”
“Sounds like you were careless,” said the colonel.
“I tried to tell you Alex was unstable.”
Bishop looked at Ross. “What are we doing to fix this?”
“Sir, we are prepared to send a response team after them. We can take the Sling and beat them to the surface where the tunnel comes out.”
Bishop shot a glance at Archer, who stood near the back of the room. He leaned against the wall, casually staring at the pad in his hand. He appeared to be working. “You’re not saying much,” Bishop said. “Any thoughts?”
Archer tilted his head and nodded. “I always have thoughts, but right now I’m waiting to see what you do. It’s been a while since I had the pleasure of watching you work.”
Nuber had always hated Archer. The old man was arrogant and didn’t give a damn about anyone but himself. “By my count, it’s been close to fifteen years since you did anything worth a shit. You should be a little more protective of your accomplishments.”
“I can always make more,” Archer said, still looking at his pad.
Nuber clenched his jaw. “That’s some perspective you’ve got. Lost a person? No problem. I’ll just build another one.”
“Shut up, both of you,” said Bishop. “I need a solution, not an argument. Nuber, you’re their instructor. Give me something.”
Nuber turned his back to Archer and faced his commander. “Ross said it herself. Use the elevator, beat them to the surface, bring them in. I don’t see any other options.”
“What about you, Doctor?” asked Bishop. “Got any genius ideas you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”
Archer shrugged. “You could always let them run.”
“Why the hell would you do that?” asked Nuber.
“To begin with, it would show us whether or not they’re capable of surviving direct exposure. The Variant we’ve been using is thinner and easier on the
ir bodies than the gas on the surface. If they manage to last more than a few minutes, we’ll know their bodies can handle it. If they can’t, at least we don’t have to risk the rest of them.”
Bishop pressed his knuckles into his desk until they popped. “We’ll blend the two ideas. Once the boys make it to the surface, we’ll send a team up to retrieve them. Give them a few hours. Unless the doctor thinks we should wait.”
“It’s more than enough time,” said Archer.
“Then, do it,” ordered Bishop. “Now, if we’ve covered everything, you can all get back to work.”
Ross left immediately, followed by Archer. They shut the door behind them.
Bishop stared at Nuber for a moment. “I don’t need a sermon, Henry,” he finally said.
“And I’m not here to give you one.”
“Then, what the hell do you want? Two boys escaped, partially because of you, and I had to make a decision about what was better, not just for them, but for all the students.”
“I got that.”
“Then, what is it?”
Nuber took a moment before he answered. “I know it’s early. Or late. Whatever you wanna call it. But I think you need to think about this for more than a few measly seconds. Have you asked yourself what could happen if this whole enterprise actually works?”
Bishop paused. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m asking you, what if those boys get to the surface and they’re fine?”
“Then, I guess Archer’s research will have been a success,” said Bishop. “It should be a good thing.”
“Right. But what happens next? We go up and get them, pull them back into the ground against their will. Are we gonna make them stay here? What if they don’t want to come home?”
“They’re children. We’ll make them.”
“I’ve spent every day with those two for the past eight years, and I can tell you right now: they’re anything but children. They’re barely even human. They’re stronger, faster, and better. Try to bring them home, and you’ll see. If they don’t wanna go, they won’t.”
“You’ve grown more cynical,” said Bishop.
“Or cautious. Either way, a couple of kids are about to do something none of our people can: walk on the surface without a damned suit. There’s nothing slowing them down, no baggage to limit where they can go. And if you think a team of oxygen-reliant soldiers has a chance in hell against two unrestricted kids, you’re out of your damned mind. You try to tear them away from this new world of theirs, they’re gonna resist. And when that happens, with all their new strength and speed…all this in the hands of a couple of teenagers…someone’s gonna get hurt.” Nuber snapped his fingers and pointed at the ceiling. “And I’m not so sure it’ll be them.”
*******
December 30, 2346
Unknown
The elevator shaft was colder than Alex expected. It didn’t have the kind of insulation the city did. The walls were different here, not steel or padded metal, but rocks and machines that ran together from one point to the next.
Alex and Cole sat together, waiting for the door to the Variant-flooded compartment to open. Containment procedures built into the tunnels by previous generations had forced the door to close, blocking off the leak. Apparently, the ventilation system in the section had stopped working, but rather than fix the problem, they simply closed the door and left it alone. All the better for Alex. The sooner he reached the Variant, the easier the trip would become.
The anticipation of what lay ahead filled him with pure elation, the gnawing eagerness of freedom. This was his moment, right now, before he found the final path—before he followed it to the end of the line, to whatever paradise or hell it might take him.
To the surface, he hoped. A world with endless possibilities, separate from the limits of this rotting grave of a place, where humans had become reliant on walls and machines to keep them alive.
He looked forward to leaving them all behind.
The console nearby let out a loud chime, indicating the previous door had finally sealed behind them, and the next section could finally open.
The large, metal vault unlatched and a wave of dust blew against their feet. The air around them immediately filled with the scent of Variant, and Alex took a deep breath of it. “Finally,” he said, grinning. “Now we’re making progress.”
It was only a taste, but the reward would do for now. Soon, they’d stand on the surface, surrounded by a world they could shape with their own hands—build their own lives without the burdens of the weak or the useless to weigh them down. Only the strong were allowed access; only the powerful would reign.
It would be a better world for better people.
*******
December 31, 2347
Central
Nuber was completely exhausted. The past twenty-four hours were beginning to take their toll on him. How was he supposed to manage a class full of teenagers when he also had to deal with the fact that two of them had vanished?
Bishop had a quiet, empty look on his face. He had his elbows propped against the desk, hastily rubbing his hands together. Nuber had known him for twenty-five years—time enough to understand his ticks and tendencies. The hand rubbing always worried him.
“We’ve lost them,” said Bishop at last.
Nuber didn’t bother to act surprised. He’d already prepared himself for this. “How’d it happen?”
“I’m not completely certain if the two boys are dead, but the signal from their implants is definitely gone. Ross says their vitals were normal right before they went dark, which suggests they’ve moved outside the safe zone. Or maybe their hearts exploded out of their chests when they got to the surface. I don’t know.”
“So they’re missing,” said Nuber.
“If they’re too far for us to track, they’re too far for us to go after. The oxygen tanks won’t last more than twelve hours. Chances are, if they’re still alive, we’ll never find them. Not unless we get creative.”
“Creative? What do you mean?”
“Simple. I’ve already sent a team, but I want an alternative. In the very real likelihood that they don’t recover anything, your kids will need to be ready to follow.”
Nuber scoffed at the idea. “You mean after two of them ran off and disappeared, you want to send more? Who’s to say they won’t do the exact same thing and take off, too?”
“Because I’m trusting you to choose the ones who won’t. You’ve been with the present group since they first came here, and you know them best. Send me five who’ve earned whatever kind of trust you have inside that thick skull of yours. I want patriots, dammit. Get them on our side.”
“And if I can’t?” asked Henry.
“You tell them the truth about how you lost that arm. Maybe a little fear will keep them from doing something stupid.”
Nuber ignored the insult. “This wasn’t part of the timeline.”
“The original launch window was eight months from now. There’s no use in waiting. The next stage is direct exposure…pure, unfiltered, undiluted Variant. These runaways are exactly the kind of political justification we need.”
“You can’t expect a bunch of kids to play soldier.”
Bishop laughed. “They do it every day in that arena of yours, don’t they? Kids need to grow up eventually.”
Nuber glanced at his missing arm, taking a moment to process this idiotic plan. If anything went wrong, it could cost them their lives. How could Bishop justify such a thing? Nuber took in a deep breath and looked again at his superior. “Tell me again why we’re doing this, sir.”
Bishop furrowed his brow. “Hm? What do you mean by ‘why’?”
Nuber cleared his throat. “I mean…why are we risking the lives of these kids? Tell me again why it’s worth it. I need to hear it.”
Bishop took a moment, his eyes fixed on Nuber. “For the future of the human race, Henry. It’s the
same reason it’s always been. Don’t you understand that?”
Nuber’s eyes drifted to the edge of the desk. “How long will they have to stay?”
“We’ll see what happens,” said Bishop. “We aren’t throwing them to the wolves, but we need to see what they can do. These kids represent over two decades of work. We have to make sure it was worth it. Have a little faith, Henry. Haven’t we been careful so far?”
“We could’ve done better.”
“Maybe that’s true,” admitted Bishop. “But mistakes happen. We’ve got the entire human race to consider here, and we’re running out of time.” Bishop tapped a pad on his desk, then slid it toward Nuber. “A list. It’s organized by compatibility rating. Top to bottom. The first is the most likely to survive direct exposure. The last is the least likely. I’m not saying they won’t all survive. The way Archer put it, every student in your class should be able to make the transition perfectly fine.”
“Sure, as far as the atmosphere goes,” said Nuber. “What about the other hazards?”
“I’m assuming you’re referring to the animals. We haven’t seen one of those since—”
“No need to revisit,” said Nuber, glancing at his empty sleeve again.
“My point being,” continued Bishop, “it was the only time anyone’s ever seen one of those things. The only proof we have they even exist is the story you gave us.”
“And the dead contractors who didn’t come back with me.”
Bishop stared at him for a moment. “Fine,” he said. “But your incident took place near the third solar field, far from where the elevator comes out. Besides, the last signal we received from the missing kids was in the opposite direction. There’s no reason to think your team will encounter anything dangerous.”
“Look at my arm, James,” he said, agitated. “You really want to see this on one of them?”
“They’re not children. Not really. Besides, they’ll have weapons, and they won’t have to worry about tearing their oxygen suits, either. You may not like the idea, but you know it’s necessary.”
“Fine, whatever,” said Nuber. He stood, preparing to leave.
