The Depths

by Nick Thacker

  But Jen chided herself. She hadn’t been able to decipher it. Austin had worked on this massive project for decades, and no one had been able to uncover the scale or impact of what he was trying to accomplish.

  And now we’re within twenty minutes of seeing what it will do, Jen thought.

  She shuddered as she reached the threshold to Level Eleven: Rue Marron. Brown.

  Entering the level’s cramped quarters, she saw the behemoth in front of her. The shuddering had reduced to a low roar, but she clearly saw the machine slowly rotating at the center of the level. The pipes, tubes, and computerized levers moved in arbitrary directions, and the telltale steam rising from certain areas told Jen all she needed to know.

  Their project was working perfectly.

  She raced toward it, finding it harder and harder to run in a straight line. As she approached the outer buildings, her eyes scanned the names.

  Water Conservation and Control.

  E.435 M.

  Electrical.

  Damn, she thought. Nothing. And I can’t even guess as to what’s in half of them.

  She kept running, encircling the machine’s rotating body. She followed a pipeline that stretched from the ceiling to the wall, and then ran down into—

  There.

  She saw it at the edge of the level, just before the wall. A small unmarked building that was expelling an unnatural amount of steam into the air.

  The rest of the group was behind her, moving quickly to keep up. Mark was holding his damaged arm, careful to not upset the bullet wound any more than it already had been. Between Saunders and Nelson, he ran next to Reese. The boy was wide-eyed and scared, but otherwise an easy companion to the team.

  Through the steam, she could see a huge vented opening in the wall above and behind the building, shimmering and blurry. It was like a mirage in the desert. The pipe’s length stretch across the concrete ceiling, emptying into a larger round silo behind the building, where its contents were corralled and sent upward to someplace behind the vent. Jen guessed that this vent opening was just one of many, one that aided in dispersing the heat and steam created by the machine to the different levels of the complex.

  As Jen neared the vent at the level’s outskirts, she wracked her brain for the next steps. I need to block the vent access. But there’s no way I’m reaching that grate on the wall.

  Jen knew there had to be a more elegant solution.

  “What’s the plan?” Mark asked, sidling up next to her at the wall. He gazed up to the vent, instantly understanding the dilemma.

  “We need to reach the vent,” she said, “and somehow take off that grate. It’s riveted to the wall.”

  “And even if we get the grate off, how are we going to block the exhaust?”

  Jen didn’t have an answer for that. She hadn’t seen anything that wasn’t bolted down to the floor or built into the ground. There were no trash cans lying around, or street benches, and none of the usual trash and detritus found on a generic city block. They were in a research station—an elegantly-designed space intended to serve a specific purpose.

  “Let’s assume we find something to throw in there,” Mark said, continuing his line of questioning. “We still can’t get something that big up that high.”

  Still, she didn’t respond. There has to be something I’m missing, she thought.

  Crimping the pipeline wouldn’t work, since the only external pipe she could see leading to the vents was fifty feet above their heads, bolted to the ceiling.

  Suddenly, the machine rocked wildly. Jen stumbled, caught her balance, and reached out to grab Reese. He found his feet just as another jolt shook the room.

  “It’s getting close,” Saunders said. “Jen, what’s the holdup?”

  Jen followed the pipeline with her eyes one last time. “We can’t reach the vent, and we can’t reach the pipeline on the ceiling. Those are our best options, but we can’t afford to wait around and figure out how to get up there.” The floor shook beneath her. “So we need another plan. Hog, give me a boost.”

  Nelson looked surprised, but shrugged and followed as Jen ran toward the center of the level. The machine, now visibly shaking, was pouring thick layers of steam into the already humid air. Jen approached the side, near where the pipeline encircled the giant rotating device.

  “If I can disconnect the pipe from its source, the heat and exhaust will fill the room. It’ll take longer than we want, but it’ll do the trick. The level’s not large enough for the heat to dissipate in time. We’ll need to seal the door behind us, and then get to the main level.”

  Nelson didn’t argue. He placed his hands out, interlocking his fingers. Mark stepped up next to Jen. “Jen, you sure this will work?”

  “Have a better idea?”

  Jen stepped onto Nelson’s lift, and he shot her straight up as if she was no heavier than a child. “That’s good,” she said. Jen was now at eye-level with the circle of metal piping, and she reached to test the temperature of the steel.

  “This is it,” she said under her breath. She couldn’t get her hands close, as they were immediately repelled by the intense heat of the pipeline. Then, calling down to Nelson and the others, “the pipe is most likely a ceramic shell with copper and steel insulation,” she said. “It’s burning hot, so this will definitely work. Mark, can you find something to hit this with?”

  “I have a better idea,” Nelson said. Jen felt herself falling, then was caught abruptly as he gently lowered her to the ground. “Go ahead and step back, sweetie.”

  Jen just stared at him.

  “Seriously, Jen, this isn’t going to be pretty. How attached are you to keeping this machine in working order?”

  She just rolled her eyes.

  “That’s what I thought. I’ve been saving this baby since we got off the sub,” he said as he reached for a grenade he’d stashed in his pack. “It’s gonna to be messy, but it will definitely do the trick.” He waited a moment. “I’d, uh, recommend standing back if I were you,” he said.

  He hurled the grenade toward the machine. Jen wasn’t optimistic about the plan until she saw the accuracy of his throw. The small round object bounced through an opening in the machine’s side, directly below the connection to the main ventilation pipe.

  “Come on,” Mark said, grabbing her arm and pulling her away.

  She turned just as the grenade exploded. The initial blast wasn’t large enough to cause much damage, but she heard the popping of gaskets and pressurized piping. They ran for the nearest building, trying to put at least a little distance between themselves and the overheating power plant.

  Finally, Jen heard the noise she was waiting for. A loud pop sounded throughout the level, and she turned to watch the large pipeline sever itself from the main artery of the plant. It fell away, leaving a billowing gust of steam and smoke from the grenade’s blast. The pipe wriggled free of the machine, leaving it dangling precariously from the ceiling, still connected to the long channel of pipe that stretched from one end of the level to the center.

  But it was enough.

  Jen knew the damage had been done. Now, it was only a matter of time before the entire level filled with smoke and steam, generating too much heat for the power plant to function properly. She planned to speed up the process as well. Jen stopped. There was one more thing they could try.

  “Get to the stairs!” she yelled. Saunders, Nelson, and Reese were already running. Mark waited for her to take the lead and kept pace as they ran for the open metal doors marking the entrance to the level. “Mark, close those doors when we get through. We need to keep the heat and exhaust contained in this level. On Level Four, we can get to the power station and see if there’s a way to route as much energy as possible to this level.” It was a long shot, but it was all they had.

  Mark nodded, and as Jen ran over the threshold, he and Nelson swung the heavy doors closed.

  Would it be enough?

  Jen pushed the thought out of her mind. It di
dn’t matter anyway. We’re trapped here with a giant drill, waiting for either the entire base to collapse on us, or the machine to tap into the earth’s mantle.

  Either option spelled out the same fate.

  But overheating the plant would work, she knew. It just needed to work before the drill finished its final rotation.

  When she thought about the drill once more, she realized the shaking and rotations had subsided.

  It’s almost done.

  One more rotation and the drill would be complete. It seemed to be spread over three distinct timeframes, the first alerting the rest of the base, via the loud alarm system, that the first rotation was to begin soon. The second was the rotation that had just finished.

  The third would begin within minutes.

  It was only a matter of minutes before the drill punched its way through the bedrock, splitting the two adjacent shelves made up of the trench walls, and unleashing a fury of molten lava, earthquakes, and cataclysmic events upon the unsuspecting world.

  The thought pushed her exhausted legs harder and faster.

  Keep going.

  She willed herself to continue.

  Level Eight.

  Level Seven.

  The entrances to the levels flew past as the group made their way upward to Level Four.

  Chapter 56

  SYLVIA KNEW THE CLOCK WAS ticking. After reaching Austin’s office and finding the controls for the machine, she had unlocked his console and entered the bypass code for the station. As the only other functioning scientist besides Austin remaining at the station, Sylvia had been privy to much more sensitive information than Austin would have liked.

  Now, she knew he’d have been proud. When she’d first enlisted into Nouvelle Terre, the organization had branches around the world that were struggling to survive. They were mainly philosophical meeting groups; places where like-minded individuals could gather and discuss ideas. Gone were the days of government funding, massive research grants, and private interest. Gone was the original excitement and energy that existed within the Agartha Base project team. The organization had dwindled to outliers; a fraction of what it was in Austin’s and Storm’s early days.

  But Jeremiah Austin wanted more. He’d wanted to bring back the glory days of Nouvelle Terre, and with his connections in the United States government, he did it. He assumed control of the organization, funneled its resources into his own pocket, and orchestrated the takeover of the Agartha Base facilities. Jeremiah had explained its meaning to her once before, telling her it was named for a secret inner-earth city that could only be fully understood “when the anarchy of our world is replaced by synarchy.” Austin loved the symbolism, and now that the original Agartha team was out of the picture, he was free to carry out Nouvelle Terre’s work alone, five miles below the surface of the Atlantic Ocean. He’d brought her along as an assistant, but Sylvia knew she was there to be more of a plaything.

  She pressed the last key in a string of commands, and within fifteen seconds she felt the gentle shudder of the base coming to life. She shut down the computer and looked around the plant-filled office. Jeremiah was a strong leader, unwilling to make compromises. But like all men, he had his vices. Plants were one of them. A strange hobby, she thought, but it had kept him sane in the face of unbelievable stress. Also, like all men, he had a weak spot: taking advantage of the vulnerability of others.

  This had been his primary form of abuse toward her as well. Stringing her along on a never-ending emotional roller coaster, dangling the carrot of a long-term relationship, then finally dumping her after a passionate binge. He would then start the process over again, eventually resorting to more scientific pursuits.

  She shuddered as she thought again about the night in his office. This office. She gritted her teeth and left the room.

  After leaving Level Ten, Sylvia ran for the main level, trying to intercept the remaining members of the ragtag crew that had caused her so much grief. She never would have lured them here, but she knew the situation had played directly into Austin’s own perverted sense of desire. He didn’t just need Mark Adams for his knowledge of the company’s computer systems; he needed to see his family suffer.

  It was sickening, but Sylvia also knew it was necessary.

  The ends justify the means, he had once told her.

  It was true. A “New Earth”—a Nouvelle Terre—meant freedom from government, religion, politics, race, and all of the myriad forces suppressing the human race. The ironic part was, Sylvia knew, was that all of these things were created by humans. Only by starting over—by pressing the reset button—could they survive.

  Sylvia and Jeremiah wouldn’t be among them, but it was for the best. Through their martyrdom, they would ring in the New Earth for the few who would be. They had almost finished the largest project mankind had ever seen, and they would be hailed as heroes for the next thousand millennia.

  They were saviors.

  Chapter 57

  “JEN, IT’S TOO LATE!” MARK yelled. “The final rotation has already started!” He had sprinted ahead of the group, cradling his injured arm with his other. He had reached Level Four and shouted back down the stairs, just as Jen rounded the final half of the stairs leading up from Level Five.

  She didn’t need to hear the warning. As Mark turned to face her, she saw through the metal doors into Level Four. Beyond the housing district, a section of wall at the opposite side of the wide-open round level crumbled. Water quickly replaced the wall, tumbling in a growing wave toward the opening to Level Four where they stood.

  The movement was followed by a massive change in pressure. The wave fell over them, then quickly subdued into a gentler current. But the shock of the cold seawater was soon replaced by something else. Jen felt her ears pop, and her eyes closed instinctively. She screamed, and fell forward into a crouching position. Reese’s small hand found hers, and she could hear Nelson and Saunders recovering behind her.

  “What the bloody hell—” Nelson said. He helped Jen to her feet, and only then did Jen notice the new sound.

  It was the sound of rushing water, and when she looked up again, she saw it.

  Seawater poured through a hole in the side of the dome surrounding them. It had breached the outer shell of the station and the inner layer, and the water shot unimpeded through the hole, pressed forward to fill the empty space by countless atmospheres of pressure.

  The line of water sprayed in a straight line, only changing course due to gravity as it found the center of the level. The water felled hundreds of rows of corn, and obliterated two structures standing immediately in front of the hole.

  “Jen!” Mark yelled again. “Come on! It’s falling apart out there. We’re never going to make it to the power station!”

  But Jen couldn’t move. She watched as another hole burst in the side of the research station’s reinforced hull, the diamond-shaped frame held in place by a metal alloy and feet-thick plates of glass. The structure was truly beautiful, and she hadn’t yet taken the time to realize it. About twenty feet above the ground floor, above the catwalk through which they’d ran after disembarking the submarine, the thick concrete walls gave way to the diamond-shaped glass struts and reinforced beams. For the remainder of the dome, up to the apex where the gigantic lighting fixture hung, the darkness of the ocean peered through to her.

  The deep black of five miles of water fought in vain with the lighting structure, and Jen wondered what undiscovered forms of sea life awaited her out there.

  It will only be a matter of time, she thought. She looked up at Mark, still holding Reese’s hand, and shook her head.

  “No,” she whispered.

  “What?” Mark stepped down the first stair, coming toward her. “Jen, what’s up?”

  “No,” she said again, her voice stronger this time. “No, Mark. It’s—there’s no point.”

  “Mom?” Reese looked at her, squeezing her hand.

  “Listen. I’m sorry, Mark, but…”


  “Bollocks, Jen,” Nelson said. “What do you mean?”

  “Look around you!” She shouted. “What’s the point? There’s nothing left here. No submarine, hell—even the docking stations are destroyed. And this station! What’s left is either going to be crushed under five miles of ocean, or we’ll be smashed between these two plates and left to melt in the inferno.”

  “Jen!” Mark shouted again. “That’s enough!”

  Jen noticed her son’s eyes, startled, gazing upward. “No!” she said. “Stop lying to yourselves! There’s nothing for us here.” Then she spun around to face Nelson and Saunders. “And you two! What’s the plan? What are we going to do, now that we’ve shut down—maybe shut down—that machine downstairs? It’s clearly too late!”

  “Jen, I—”

  “Stop! Stop it, all of you! I’ve been strong long enough! I’ve been holding myself up as we’ve all been murdered, abandoned, and left for dead. But that’s it. Mark, Reese, come on. Let’s just go somewhere where we can be together, and—”

  “No.”

  This time the person arguing caused everyone to pause.

  “No. Mom, you stop. You came here for me, right? You came here to get me back, and you did. You stayed alive, even though that monster tried to kill you all, and you beat him. Now we need to get home together.”

  Another pop sounded, followed by another brief change in pressure. Water began trickling down the stairs they were standing on.

  “Reese, I—”

  “No, Mom. Listen. That submarine, out in the center of the field. It’s old, but it might be able to hold up under the pressure.”

  Jen’s mind raced. The submarine? In the field?

  She couldn’t imagine what Reese was talking about, but she looked in that direction. Past the houses, past the small white building, sat the large propane tank.

  What she had thought was the propane tank.

  She knew in a moment her son was correct. It wasn’t a propane tank—it was an old submarine. A research vessel, small but reliable. It had been stripped of anything recognizable, or it had been designed that way. There was no paint job, just brushed metal casing and nuts and bolts. It was a long shot, but it was all they had.