"Adios," Mac called, and placed the panel back on the opening, plunging her into darkness.
The ladder creaked and groaned as she made her way down into the bilge tunnel one rung at a time. A few of the rungs hung loose, and she gasped as the rung moved beneath her weight, or sometimes, as her foot hit empty air. The light from her headlamp made a small pinpoint on the wall in front of her, and as she moved down, she could see lines of graffiti drawn centuries before, when the population of the vessel was far less, and the people had more freedom.
After what felt like an eternity, her foot hit the ground. She slowly turned, and the light spanned out over the room in front of her. Much larger than she had imagined, the room echoed as she stepped forward; the harsh metal walls boasted colourful artwork covered in a thick layer of grime.
A junction box with a big yellow X painted on it jumped out at her from the other side of the tunnel. She moved forward slowly, turning her light towards the ground.
Junk covered the floor. Empty cans, old shirts, what looked like shiny silver disks-trash from centuries past littered the length of the tunnel for as far as she could see. She carefully avoided the unrecognizable items, kicked a few of the harmless items out of the way, and made her way to the junction box by finding the floor one step at a time.
The ghost wires began in this junction box, indicated by a large white triangle painted at the beginning of any run. That is probably why Mac had made her access the bilge through the prison entrance-unless, of course, there were only two entrances, in which case she was glad he had not made her arrive in the prison. Talk about a horrible way to end the day.
She pulled out her screwdriver, loosened the junction box cover, and peered at the wires connected to the power cell: they were grimy, rusted, and clearly worn down by years of use followed by a lack of maintenance. She decided it was a good thing Mac had sent her down here. If any were live, they could cause a serious fire when a rat dragged in an old t-shirt across one to make a nest.
Next, she examined the power cell. Power cells had their own system of networked cables that led back to the engine room. Next time she got promoted (if she ever got promoted), she would be able to focus on maintaining these in addition to running wires. She pressed the ON button. It flared up in a blaze of tiny neon lights. It hadn't even been off, just sleeping.
"Huh," she whispered to herself. Then she sighed. If the power cell was on, the chances of a live wire were very high, and if the live wires started right here, at the beginning of the run, then she was likely going to have to go all the way to the end, and then come back to the beginning to shut the cell down.
"Damn."
She stared into the dark abyss that made up the rest of the tunnel. This could take days, and all she had to eat were a few granola bars. On the other hand, maybe it would be easy and only take a few hours. Then she could have the rest of the day to herself.
She turned back to the wires with renewed focus.
"White Rabbit."
White Rabbit shrieked and then coughed as she inhaled a piece of dust. "Ghost? Is that you?" she asked when she caught her breath.
"It is me," the voice said, "Imamu."
"Imamu," White Rabbit whispered, her eyes widening. "Imamu is your name? I've never been able to hear your name before!"
"I've tried to tell you many times," Imamu replied. "Why can you hear me better now?"
"I don't know," White Rabbit said. "Do you live down here?"
"Where is down here?"
"In the bilge," she answered.
"I don't think so," he replied. In front of her, a white figure blazed into view, much clearer and stronger than she had ever seen it before. "I used to live in a cabin, but now I don't know where I am. I don't know where I am. I don't know where I am."
This happened sometimes. He would get caught in some sort of loop and repeat the same words over and over.
While she waited for him to self-correct, White Rabbit pulled out her multi-meter and placed the two pins on the screw holding the first wire in place. It read 0 amperes. So did the next three. But the final one read nearly 80 amps. White Rabbit frowned. Whatever-or whoever-was using this power was drawing enough electricity to power a large kitchen appliance, like an oven.
"...don't know where I am. I don't know? White Rabbit?" Imamu suddenly and abruptly stopped his loop. "Why are you in the bilge?"
"I got in trouble for talking back to Logger," she answered, the feeling of humiliation and hatred flaring up again momentarily, "and so I have to work down here. Working the ghost lines."
"Shouldn't he be the one getting in trouble?" Imamu asked. "For harassment or something?" He had no features that White Rabbit could have described, even in his new, clearer state. Instead, he simply had a clearer, more solid outline with a sharp edge.
"I don't know," she replied. "I guess I could've been politer."
"No, don't say that!" Imamu argued. A blob that could have been an arm emerged from his figure, almost as if he was gesturing angrily. "You should never apologize for standing up for yourself."
"I don't. Maybe if I kept quiet, no one would bother me," she said.
Imamu sighed. "I've been trying to tell you this for months. It doesn't matter how quiet you are, how good a job you do, or how often you go unnoticed. Someone you don't like will notice you eventually, and your only other option is to stand up for yourself."
White Rabbit shrugged and disconnected the dead wires before beginning to walk down the tunnel. She kicked at the cans, bottles, and other trash scattered about the floor and the sound echoed all around her. "I will think about what you said."
"Promise?"
"I promise. Cross my heart."
"Okay, good."
White Rabbit walked in silence for a while, keeping the beam of her headlight fixed on the cable that ran along the wall. Beside her, Imamu glowed, but not brightly enough to shed any additional light on the tunnel. The live wire was encased in a rubber tube, which, along with all of the other cables, had a plastic pipe wrapped around it. These protected unfortunate passersby from an unpleasant shock, and protected the wires from being damaged.
She paused for a moment as the light from her headlamp illuminated a particularly colourful piece of graffiti. It depicted a woman being lowered from a great height, wreathed in halos of light. All around her, people reached up their hands to touch her feet and legs, and around them, colourful tents and boxes sat lined up against a wall made of jail bars.
As the last echo from her trash kicking faded away, she heard another sound in the distance.
"Do you hear that?" she asked Imamu.
"What?" Imamu asked.
"It sounds like?." she closed her eyes and zoned in on the sound, similarly to when she was listening to wires, "...like humming." White Rabbit opened her eyes and frowned. "Humming? It's not electricity, I know that."
"Oh, those are just the Hippos," Imamu said. "You'll like them." At that moment, he disappeared.
White Rabbit turned to look down the tunnel, suddenly more terrified than she had ever been in her life. She was alone, in the dark, in the bowels of the ship, possibly about to die. The noise got louder but all she could think of was being trampled by giant Earthan livestock with strange, shiny hides and enormous teeth. Then, torches appeared in front of her, held by people dressed in strange clothing, all humming at the same time.
From what White Rabbit could see, at least 20 people stood before her. Her fear, far from receding, filled every inch of her. Their clothes, clearly made from scraps of fabric, were woven together and almost looked pretty. Most had long hair falling around their faces and were extremely thin, and White Rabbit found it difficult to tell who was male and who was female. She could, however, tell that her own hands were shaking uncontrollably.
One woman with a line painted across her forehead stepped forward, flanked by two others holding a torch in one hand and long canes in the other.
"Who are you?" she asked
.
White Rabbit couldn't speak. Her eyes felt as if they had been pinned open and her mouth was so dry, she could have started a cactus farm inside it. She tried to push air through her vocal cords, once? twice? when she finally succeeded in making words, they came out as a hoarse, guttural stutter.
"Wh? Wh ? White R? R? Rabbit," she stuttered, gripping her bag so tightly that her hands hurt.
"Why have you come here?" the woman continued.
"T? t? to check the g? ghost lines." White Rabbit gulped. She could feel herself panting, like an excited dog, but unlike an excited dog, she was paralyzed with fear.
"Are you not afraid to be here?" The woman leaned forward, peering at White Rabbit's face. "The uppers-they never venture down here."
"I? I? I am a? a? afraid." She figured admitting it was simple enough-not that it wasn't obvious or anything.
"That's hardly a good description though," Imamu's voice chimed in. His glowing form was still invisible. "She's afraid of everything. She's a wire runner, no need to fear her."
"You know her, Oh Great One?" the woman asked.
"Yes. We are friends," Imamu said.
"In that case, you are welcome and I offer my services to complete your task." The woman turned to face her legion of people. "You may return to your tasks. I am safe, you are safe, and White Rabbit is our new friend. Say thank you to Imamu, the Great One."
"Thank you, Imamu," they all chimed.
"You're welcome," Imamu replied.
Then, one of them handed the woman a torch before following the rest down the tunnel.
"Wh? wh ? who are you?" White Rabbit asked as the woman turned to look at her. White Rabbit's hands were still shaking and she felt an overwhelming need to hide. On the other hand, one Hippo was far better than twenty.
"My name is Achieng, named for the Great One's mother. I am the leader of the Hippos."
"Wh...why are you called Hippos?"
"It comes from an ancient word-hypogeal-which was used back on Earth to mean underground. There is no underground on a spaceship, but we are below all other decks. We are the Hypogeans and Imamu calls us Hippos."
Imamu chuckled. This joke seemed to amuse him for some reason. He began to flicker back into view. Achieng smiled at the ghostly figure, and then pulled up her sleeve to show a tattoo of a hippo, striped with all the colours of the rainbow. "It is now the symbol of our people."
White Rabbit nodded, her mind whirling. Her hands still shook, but Achieng seemed nice enough, with just one Hippo and Imamu, she felt a little safer. Now she just had to quit stuttering.
"Now, Wire Runner, how can I help you?" Achieng asked.
"I? I need to get to the next j? junction box." Only two stuttered words! Progress.
"Follow me."
Achieng's torch lit up the tunnel in all directions, in a way that was much more helpful than White Rabbit's head lamp. Every inch of the walls boasted colours and lines making up massive images. White Rabbit thought they might tell a story.
"Wh? what do those mean?" she asked, pointing at one depicting a man hanging from a ladder by one hand, and a speech bubble pointing upwards with the words, "You can die down there!" carefully lettered on white.
"These tell the story of our mothers and fathers," Achieng stated, pausing to shine her light on a couple more images.
"Many centuries ago, our first mother, Josephine, escaped from the prison through the same entry that you came through. She discovered that the bilge was actually a massive space, parts of which had once been used for storage but have long been forgotten. So she made a home. Not long after, a man name Leonard escaped from prison. They made a life together and had several children. When their children grew older, three others escaped from the prison, and as far as we could tell, none of the guards could figure out how, so our many times great grandparents began to make a civilization down here, stealing food, sharing resources, and keeping our children as safe as possible."
White Rabbit gulped. Everyone down here was descended from prisoners. Images flashed in her head: a hand grabbing her arm, the request to talk, "We're people too!" echoing through the halls.
"B? but w? weren't th? they dangerous? Th? th? the prisoners?" Her stuttering got a bit worse as she imagined prisoners hiding in the shadows.
"No. Many of the prisoners in their time were simply convicted to make space for wealthier families. So they made their own space, down here. And down here, we have our own system of laws. Then, in the third generation, Imamu came and helped us further build our civilization."
"I? I? I? see."
"Now you must answer a question for me." Achieng looked over at White Rabbit with a smile. "Why are there still wire runners? You are far too young to be one. Didn't they mostly die out when our ships went wireless?"
"N? n? no, well, y? yes, b? but," White Rabbit took a deep breath to try and stop stuttering, focusing her mind on what she knew best: the wires. "B? but the virus killed other fleets and we couldn't, couldn't stop it, so we had to go analog and? and now there are wire runners again."
"What virus is that?"
"The Otieno Virus," she answered, and then smiled a little, realizing that she hadn't stuttered that time.
"What?" Imamu's voice resounded. His form flickered in and out, and then disappeared again. "Otieno Virus?"
"Yes," she said. "Why?"
"That's?" he paused for a second and then continued, "?that's when I died. Or didn't die, rather. The Otieno virus had killed every other ship but mine?"
"Yes, every fleet but our fleet-the Paka Fleet!" White Rabbit could feel herself getting excited and noted that her stutter had vanished. She felt like she was about to learn something that no one else on the ship knew. Maybe, just maybe, she would redeem herself and be able to get back to wire running on the main decks. Or somewhere away from Logger.
"No," Imamu said, "I was in the Kiboko Fleet."
"Here," Achieng said, pointing at a junction box.
White Rabbit opened it, made sure the power cell was on, and then clipped the dead wires, almost without thinking. She was too focused on what Imamu was saying.
"The Kiboko fleet? that was the last one to go," she said. "We thought they had survived, but they didn't. They were just last."
"They died? Everyone died?" he asked, his voice suddenly filled with deep sorrow.
"Yes, they did, because they lost all their systems. They were about to enter orbit, but instead, they flew into a star."
"The next junction box is this way," Achieng said softly.
White Rabbit followed in her wake. "Imamu?"
He didn't reply.
"Imamu?"
"He has gone to rest," Achieng said quietly. "What he learned today, that would quell even the fiercest fire."
"I'm sorry," White Rabbit said, feeling a little confused but also sorry. He somehow knew those people, and she had told him that they all died. Now guilt filled her mind, in addition to the sadness. "I am sorry I told him."
Neither spoke again for a long while. Achieng led her from one junction box to the next, quietly pointing out where the wires ran. White Rabbit ran through her processes mindlessly, mulling over Imamu and all that she had learned from him today.
After a while, Achieng broke the silence.
"Where did you meet Imamu?" she asked.
"In the rudder room," White Rabbit replied. Her hands had long stopped shaking, and the flickering light of the torch made the walls of the tunnels feel warmer and more welcoming.
"He is weak in that part of the ship," Achieng said.
White Rabbit frowned. She had noticed that he never once cut out when speaking to him in the tunnels, but hadn't thought to ask why.
"Why is that?" she asked.
"We don't know. He is strongest through these tunnels, but then, in the transport room, he vanishes entirely, and is weak around it. He says there is a strong interference and that he cannot shout loud enough through it. The rudder room is directly above t
he transport room."
"What is the transport room?" White Rabbit asked.
"Another long forgotten part of the ship," Achieng answered. "It is where members of the crews from other fleets would arrive to meet and discuss news, tactics, and strategies during war."
"Like, a teleportation device?" she asked.
"Precisely."
"Those were outlawed when the Otieno virus hit."
"Yes, but we still have one. It is just not in use."
"Can I see it, before I go back above deck?"
"You must," Achieng said, "because the wires lead straight to it."
***
White Rabbit tried to focus on the junction boxes, but after about three more, she gave up. Each was the same: a functioning power cell, five dead wires, and one live wire. She knew, deep in the pit of her stomach, that the teleport device was still on. Why else would her instruments be reading such a high amount of power in the wires? Unless the Hippos used the power for their laundry, which it smelled like they never did, then there was no other logical reason.
So she asked Achieng to take her there, right away.
They walked rapidly through the tunnels. Achieng pointed left and right, here and there, indicating rooms, other tunnels leading to different portions of the hull, and more massive graffiti art plastered across the tunnel walls.
The Hippos had an entire civilization down here, and from what White Rabbit could see, it was strong, beautiful, and welcoming.
After a rapid-paced walk through the bilge, Achieng paused in front of a smooth white door, somehow still clean after all its years of disuse.
"This is it," Achieng stated. "It's the teleport room."
"Do you ever go in here?" White Rabbit asked. She turned and looked all around this end of the tunnel. Not too far from the white door, she noticed a ladder stretching up the side of the wall. She looked up and could see a grate. Light leaked through. That must be the exit, she thought.
"No, it's locked," Achieng replied. "We didn't want anyone from the upper levels coming down and noticing us, so we never messed around with it."
White Rabbit frowned a little and began to examine the door. The hot wire she had been following ran right through the wall, meaning that she was in the right place. The door had a handle, but a small red light indicated that it was locked. She stared at it up and down and all around. How would she open it?
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