ARIA

by Geoff Nelder

  Jat burst into a shout: “Hey, there’s a sign saying we can’t go up here, and there’s a broken barrier.”

  He grinned, guessing he would score Brownie points from the youngster for breaking laws. “You going to help me put the barrier back to deter others?”

  “It didn’t deter you.”

  With some rope from the pickup, they re-erected the barrier, but unless it snowed or rained, any passer-by would see they’d driven up the lane. Any attempt to disguise their tracks would fail and it would be dark by the time they reached the cabin, assuming he could find it again. He’d already lost much of the morning even though he had tried to recall it whenever he had a spare moment.

  “Aren’t you afraid of bears up here?” Jat asked.

  “Nah, they’re all hibernating.”

  “Excuse me. You are talking to an Inuit. Okay, I haven’t actually lived as an Inuit, but even I know not all bears hibernate, and those that don’t are awake and looking for food.”

  “I am so glad to be sharing my lodge with someone of more intelligence than the mice I’ve shared it with so far.”

  “You can’t scare me, Manuel, I’ve slept with rats.” From both, that statement merited only silence.

  Saturday 2 May 2015:

  Anafon.

  A SHAFT OF SUNLIGHT ESCAPED THROUGH A BREAK IN THE CLOUDS. It hit Bronwyn full in the face as she drew the blinds in the kitchen. It made a welcome glow to her developing morose outlook.

  Megan banged around, making a scrambled egg breakfast.

  Bronwyn could feel the tension running high at Anafon. After years of working there, the evenings were too exciting for her: pillow fights, spilt drinks and food, loud music and raucous behaviour—and that was just the adults. But now, couples would huddle in corners and not for romance. Introspective worrying became the main spare-time activity. Since her niece appeared a week ago, the exuberance of youth added to the small community. Maybe a more wayward dimension than Ryder would have preferred, but teenage angst brought to Bronwyn a sense of normality.

  “You know why you can’t go to Anne’s party,” Bronwyn said.

  “It’s not fair.”

  “Of course it isn’t. Megan, life’s taken on a new twist for all of us.”

  “Here, here,” Teresa said. She’d strolled in and sniffed at Megan’s scrambled eggs. Megan snatched them out of reach.

  “What if I go over the hill and avoid the road completely? I know a gap in the fence.”

  “Bloody hell, Megan, why haven’t you said before? Brian, come here.”

  “It’s only a small one, where one of the horses scratched itself near Two Rocks.”

  Brian remained cool. “We have to expect some breaches, and we haven’t blocked off the mountain. We’d have to go shopping for more fencing.”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” Megan said, her mischievous eyes sparkling. “There’s plenty of fencing out there. Brand new electric and green plastic ones the other side of Roman Road.”

  Gustav came in, stretching his sleep away. “You mean steal it?”

  “Excellent idea,” Teresa said. “Well done, Megan.” Teresa knew how to please teens.

  “But that’s stealing from our friends,” Brian said with a long face.

  Derek stole a forkful of eggs. “We’d be more secure, and we’re less likely to encounter people out on the hills than at a farmers’ store.”

  Bronwyn knew it would help Megan get over not going to her friend’s party, which had been cancelled or forgotten. “Megan, you go and burgle with Brian and Gustav and we’ll have a party of our own tonight.”

  “Wicked.” Megan leapt, clapping her hands, making Bronwyn laugh and yet feel old.

  IN THE COMPUTER LAB, Ryder mined the web, looking for new information about ARIA. Missing people were listed on abandoned websites, but because the Internet servers still chugged away, they could be viewed by anyone with a connection. The most up-to-date medical sites beamed in from Asia and Europe, not North America. He worried about Karen, Manuel, and other friends in the States and hoped they too escaped to rural retreats and that ARIA would soon fizzle out.

  An incoming message alert blinked. Three messages and none for him. He had no idea his line-manager Derek knew such high-powered officials. Not that Ryder opened Derek’s e-mails, and anyone could make up avatars on the web, including the names of senior government officials. Ryder fought the temptation to peek at Derek’s post. His neck heated up because of a nagging fear that their whereabouts had been compromised. He pushed the office chair back from the screen and paced the floor, went for a coffee, and returned no better. He glanced at the clock, estimating when Derek should return after working on more security cameras.

  He risked Derek’s wrath and opened up his e-mail. Suspicious because it came from the government. Ryder worried about official and contaminated fingers working their way towards Anafon. Ian Riddick he knew as a minister. Strong minded and prepared to stamp his feet over his opponents to get his own way. It worried Ryder that Riddick should be writing to Derek.

  To: derekoconnor@mediagold.com

  From: i.riddick@homeoffice.gov.uk

  Subject: Alternative venue

  Derek,

  Imperative to get my family to you, even if you are Mull or similar.

  Maybe me and a couple of colleagues.

  Can bring money and provisions, etc.

  Please reply within an hour as alternative decisions would be needed.

  Regards

  Ian

  So, the Government didn’t know about Anafon. At least that gave Ryder a sliver of satisfaction.

  “We should be all right now,” Derek called, as he came in. “Anyone else for a glass of juice?”

  Ryder panicked. He could fiddle with the system so Derek couldn’t tell his e-mail had already been opened, but not in seconds. He closed the program down and looked at the webcams Derek had set up just as he walked up to the desk.

  “There, we have ten cams set up overlooking gates, passes, the building, and Solomon’s mine. I even thought of putting a mobile unit onto one of the horses as a random eye but they wouldn’t let me get close.”

  “Just as well. How do you know they don’t have ARIA?”

  “It didn’t occur to me. But you are right. SARS and AIDS transfer between mammals.”

  “Yeah, well, nothing’s certain. Teresa tells me that although humans can catch up to two hundred infections and viruses from animals, it isn’t known how many we give them. Shouldn’t be surprising, considering how much DNA we have in common.”

  The computer sang with another e-mail alert.

  Derek sat at the keyboard. He clicked for a while.

  “I see you’ve been busy, Ryder.”

  “Yes, sorry, Derek.”

  “You expected me to jump up and down, didn’t you? That’s because a month ago I would have. Let’s see. Yes, I’ve known Ian from Cambridge. He’s been useful to our network, and I’ve been to his dinner parties. I’d like to help, but we agreed we couldn’t accommodate more, didn’t we?”

  “This Ian is a government minister, isn’t he?”

  “So?”

  “He’s been in meetings with other ministers.”

  “He’s almost certainly infected.”

  “As are his family,” said Ryder, wondering if anyone in authority was left unscathed.

  “Just suppose, Ryder, that he isn’t infected. Now, don’t look at me like that. Teresa and Laurette said there are always people who are immune to particular viruses. It would be a waste and a tragedy to not help them.”

  Ryder shook his head. “We can’t bring them here, Derek.”

  “But if we don’t do something for them, some genius out there is going to figure out the likely hideaways. You used logic and Teresa’s employment to find this place. Others could do the same.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I know of two nuclear bunkers near London that have been maintained. They have their own provisions,
energy, and water; like Anafon, but underground.”

  “Excellent, tell your mate, Ian, to wrestle the keys off someone.”

  “I will, but you know what it’s like dealing with arrogant bastards. You have to make a suggestion so they think it was their idea. By the way, Megan and the other two were on their way back in too.”

  “If they organise a safe refuge, Derek, make sure they have web links with us. Other countries will have the same, won’t they?”

  “I’ll mention it to Ian.”

  “Don’t forget our house rule not to use the phone or mobiles. The Internet can’t back-track to here with our scrambled IP addresses.”

  Ryder left Derek to reply to his e-mails while he collected some drinks for the fence thieves. He was worrying about them being seen. He found Teresa in the refectory and told her about Derek’s e-mails.

  “I’ll talk to him. There are sperm and cell banks that need to be made secure. I know, people will have forgotten about them and leave them alone, but that’s not enough. They need to be monitored. If their power supply fails then zap, we have no unadulterated humans for the future.”

  “Barring us, you mean?”

  “Hey, don’t get that look in your eye, buddy. I don’t intend to be a mass baby producer. In any case, if I wanted to look for a virulent and strong gene stock, it might not be you,” she said, looking with admiration at Gustav as he beamed at her from the doorway.

  BOTH IN EAGER ANTICIPATION AND FEAR OF FAILURE, Ryder attempted to use a secure weblink to the International Space Station. The crew might have abandoned the station or were infected with ARIA when they found the case even though they hadn’t opened it.

  All the space missions had public websites where anyone could browse through photos and interviews, and peer at live webcams. However, you could post a message and not have anyone read it for weeks. The protocols Ryder possessed, allowed him into a members-only area of the website. On seeing Ryder’s ID, they might reject his intrusion. He tweaked the virtual gate on the website.

  A green light signalled his entry.

  “Hello, ISS crew. I’m just knocking on your door to see who’s in.”

  The data back showed that Ryder’s protocol entry ID had been checked, so they know who had just logged in.

  “Let me activate the webcam, Ryder Nape? There, now do you know who I am?”

  “I confirm I am Ryder and you are either Vlad Pochenko or Dan has had a face job and learnt to speak with a Russian accent.” They both laughed, relieved to share their humour.

  “How are you all up there?”

  “In some dismay watching you all down there. But you’re okay?”

  “You know about ARIA?”

  “Of course,” Vlad said in his rich Kiev accent. “We are able to monitor TV and the Internet.”

  “Obviously, none of you were infected by the case.”

  “We didn’t lay a finger on it, let alone open it, Ryder. But we might as well have, don’t you think?”

  “So you have a vision of doom, Vlad?”

  “Don’t you? Just how long before someone breathes on you?”

  Ryder tapped the side of his nose. “A small group of us are in an isolated centre.”

  “Not as isolated as us, I bet. I suppose you have provisions, but do you have medical facilities and protection?”

  “Why, are you thinking of joining us?” Ryder hadn’t considered that option. Anafon would have plenty of room.

  “We decided to sit it out for a while, but there is a limit.”

  “True, I presume you’re not getting any fresh provisions. How long can you last up there before coming down?”

  “We’re on rations, but with recycling and holding our breath, we could last a few more months before finding a new home.”

  “Not that you wouldn’t be welcome, but I’d have to put it to everyone here. So far, we’ve not told anyone at all—you understand why. I’m sending you a data file with our website details to pass on to anyone else you think might benefit from sharing ideas.”

  “I’d have to confer with Dan and the crew. There should be a number of groups like yours. I worried that the number was zero.”

  Ryder laughed at the Ukrainian’s joke but would have kept smiling anyway. He warmed to have given them hope. “I don’t suppose you’re getting anything from Mission Control?”

  “We expect to from the backups in Hawaii and Australia. We’re trying tomorrow. I have to go now, Ryder. Keep in touch.”

  “Have a sip of recycled water on me, Vlad.”

  “Bastard.” They both laughed as they switched off.

  TERESA RAN INTO THE CENTRE, EYEBROWS RAISED. “Ryder, come outside. Brian and Bronwyn are leaving.”

  Ryder rushed out to find the couple had loaded up food and belongings in their estate car. Brian glared at Ryder.

  “You can’t stop us, Ryder.”

  “Come in and talk about this.” Ryder looked in their vehicle windows for Megan.

  “No way,” Brian called out. “You’ve always had the better of us, giving all the orders. We’ve had enough.”

  Gustav came round on Ryder’s right and stopped to take in the situation. Ryder nudged his foot at a rock and looked at Gustav with a slight head turn. He knew Brian wouldn’t have seen his feet.

  Ryder tried again. “I know it’s tough here, Brian. We’re all going stir crazy. Bronwyn, you wouldn’t leave Megan, would you?” Ryder hoped to use Bronwyn’s maternal instincts even though she had no children of her own.

  “She’s out there somewh–”

  “Shut up, Bron,” Brian said.

  “She’s inside the centre,” said Ryder, bluffing. “Come in, have a cuppa and talk.”

  “No,” Brian said. “We knew you’d try and talk us out of it. We won’t tell anyone about this place. You’ll get no visitors coming back. We’d rather take our chances. Maybe ARIA’s died off anyway.”

  Ryder noticed Gustav on his belly. He’d placed rocks against both rear tyres and was edging away again. Brian’s car was not going anywhere.

  “I can’t let you leave, Brian. What we have is too precious. We might be the only uninfected community left on the planet. We have a duty to liaise with the ISS crew to see what we can do for mankind.”

  Brian laughed. “You’re mad. It’s too late to save mankind. We’re going to take our own chances.”

  Ryder noticed Gustav going back into the centre. He hoped he wasn’t going to escalate matters.

  “A few more weeks, Brian. Or, I’ll tell you what, you and a couple of us will take our binoculars up on the hill and carefully move towards Llanfairfechan to see what’s going on. Only without putting ourselves at risk. How about that, Bronwyn? Take things in small steps, safely?”

  Bronwyn nodded then looked at her husband who was furious.

  “I knew you’d be doing this,” Brian said, and started the engine. Gustav came out of the centre carrying two rifles, he gave one to Ryder, who levelled it at Brian, while walking round to the front of the car.

  “I’ll run you down, you sheep dip.”

  Bronwyn cried as Brian released the brake. With the rear wheels not being able to move, the engine stalled.

  Brian’s face purpled as he beat the steering wheel with his hands. He reached behind him and drew out a revolver.

  “It’s useless, Brian,” shouted Ryder. “We can’t let you go. We could shoot out your tyres. Give it up, man.”

  Shaking with rage, Brian aimed his revolver at Teresa. “Let us go, or she’ll be the first.”

  Ryder faced a dilemma. He wanted Teresa to hit the floor so Brian couldn’t see her, but she looked transfixed. He couldn’t let them go, because they were sure to run into people. The locals knew they worked in the centre and might decide to pay a scavenging visit. All three guns wavered.

  Bronwyn stopped crying just long enough to grab at Brian, who struggled with her. Ryder lowered his weapon and looked at Gustav, who had put his down and pointed at the door on Bronwyn
’s side. Ryder went for Brian’s door but just as he reached it, Brian’s revolver went off. Bronwyn screamed.

  Ryder opened Brian’s door. A growing red patch showed through Bronwyn’s blue jeans above her right knee. Gustav beat him to shouting to Teresa to help him get Bronwyn out and into the first-aid room.

  Ryder found the revolver under the clutch pedal and threw it out into the heather.

  “Come on, Brian. We’ve all been under a strain. Let’s get inside and see to Bronwyn.” Brian didn’t move. Ryder assumed he was too shocked but then thought maybe the bullet went through him too. No. He was withdrawn. Ryder stayed with him since almost everyone inside had medical training except himself. After Derek brought out two welcomed mugs of tea, laced with whiskey, and delivered the good news that Bronwyn’s wound was minor, Brian agreed to climb out. A fraught episode that Ryder knew made his own resolution all the stronger.

  Sunday 3 May 2015:

  Evening in Manuel’s cabin, Banff National Park, Canada.

  AFTER A SUPPER OF SAUCEPAN-WARMED TINNED MEAT and veg, made possible after Manuel re-discovered the bottle-gas store, they luxuriated with a coffee in front of a log fire.

  Jat released a squeal of delight at discovering Manuel’s working Internet, but he had to caution against a young surfer’s addiction.

  “We only get enough juice in the daytime from the solar cells on the roof.”

  Her bottom lip stuck out. “How are we going to remember that tomorrow?”

  “Write yourself a note. Here, have a notepad, keep a diary so you won’t have to ask me my name in the morning. I have a NoteCom but I’m not sharing it.”

  “Fair enough, Manuel. Tell me, do you remember arriving here?”

  “No. And tomorrow I’ll remember even less. However, I think fragments of today might be recalled if we stick together. I read that memories get reinforced if constantly triggered.”