by Eliza Green
The area around the university was quieter than Waverley. The area bore no evidence that a residential neighbourhood existed close by. All the surrounding buildings appeared to be abandoned. Albert knew the nearest docking station was Waverley. Logan International Airport wasn’t deemed big enough. Neighbourhoods set closest to docking stations were probably more profitable.
Sofia pointed east along Cambridge Street. ‘I entered there, through that part of campus.’ Albert examined the group of red-brick buildings with no clear entry point.
But when they approached the intersection at Garden Street and Massachusetts Avenue, he saw it: the original fencing around the campus, badly rusted and missing bars.
One bar looked pliable enough for Isobel to create a gap.
‘I’ve been here three times to look for the facilities,’ said Jenny, wriggling through, ‘but the old World Government schematics sent me somewhere else. And this broken entrance wasn’t here before. I wonder if the hologram once stretched far enough to cover the entire campus?’
In the grounds, they passed Harvard and Hollis Hall, and cut across open land, heading for Widener Library. According to Jenny’s map, the trio of Grays, Weld and Boylston should have been just across from the open space. But Albert saw only more standard red-brick buildings that weren’t on their map.
They walked on. A tall perimeter fence loomed over them, surrounding the library and halls. Albert was about to rattle the fence when Jenny grabbed his arm.
‘Don’t touch it! It’s electrified.’
Albert withdrew his hand, then held it close to the fence, feeling the bite of electricity.
Jenny picked up a stone and threw it at the fence. The metal sparked. She picked up the same stone, walked ten feet along and threw it again. It hummed first and then sparked. ‘It’s inconsistent,’ she said to the man who had sat up front with the driver. ‘The electricity, it’s not the same in all places. There may be a weak point.’
‘You’re suggesting we go over the top?’ Albert stared at the solid wire fence. He could see no breaks in the uniformity or stability of the structure. ‘We’ll be killed.’ Hans and his Buzz Gun injury came to mind.
‘Not yet,’ said Jenny. ‘Let’s see if there’s a switch or control somewhere.’
They walked around the perimeter surrounding the three halls and the larger library building. When Albert turned a corner, he saw the same side of the building they had just passed. If he turned in a new direction, the buildings to their rear also changed position. It appeared as if the hologram also tracked their movements.
‘I’ve no idea which way we’re pointing,’ said Albert. The buildings were too high and the sky too dark. Everything in the skyline looked the same.
‘How many times have we seen this side of the building?’ said Isobel.
Jenny looked around. ‘We need to find a pattern.’
Through the fence, Albert saw a green space with Widener Library on the far side. The buildings all looked in perfect condition. ‘I can’t see where any partial collapse may have happened.’
Isobel moved closer to the fence. ‘Are you sure this entire image of the buildings isn’t a holographic projection?’
Albert’s heart sank. ‘Maybe the tunnels aren’t really here and the workers are all dead and we’re wasting our time.’
Sofia pointed at a shiny object speeding towards them from the other side of the campus. ‘No. They are not dead. I knew they would come.’
Albert stiffened as a roving camera came to an almost-stop in front of their group. It had been eight years since he’d seen one working. Before he had moved to Waverley neighbourhood, before the walls had been built around it, the apartment block he’d shared with his son and grandson had been crawling with them.
The camera’s low whirring was barely audible over the hum of the fence.
Albert faced the camera, put his hands up. ‘Please. We mean no harm. We just want to talk.’
The camera hovered for a moment, then ran the length of the fence. It returned to hover in front again.
‘Please,’ said Jenny. ‘We need your help. There’s a code, a computer code running on the DPads still operational. Someone is sending a message. Is it you? If not, is there someone with you who could decipher it?’ Jenny gestured to Albert. ‘This man’s neighbourhood is in trouble. The life support is failing. We believe it may have something to do with the encrypted message.’
Albert held his breath as they waited. Someone was listening, he could sense it. He had no idea who, or if they would respond.
The camera remained silent, hovering.
‘I don’t know if you’re aware of life out here,’ said Albert. ‘But things are not good.’ His voice shook. What if they refused to listen? ‘On a good day, we struggle to fix our generators, efforts that the criminals try to sabotage daily. On a bad day, we suffer a cash-loss and the criminals turn off our machines. Nobody knows how to fix anything, so everything falls into a state of disrepair.’
He huffed and stared at what he now believed to be nothing more than a holographic projection through the fence.
‘What do you expect us to do?’ said a male voice, tinny and strange.
They all looked up at the camera.
‘Help us to decode the message,’ said Jenny. ‘The criminals don’t use the DPads. They don’t trust technology.’
‘We know that. What can you offer us in return? Is there a medic among you?’
‘No.’
‘A mechanic, then?’ The camera continued to hover, its shimmering eye focused on Isobel.
Jenny stepped closer. ‘She is here to help if you need it. We heard you had suffered a partial collapse in one of your tunnels.’
They waited again. Albert couldn’t bear the silence.
‘You have been misinformed,’ said the voice. ‘We have not suffered any collapse. We do not need your assistance. If you don’t leave, we will remove you by force.’
The camera turned and hovered back to where it had come from.
Albert sat on the ground, feeling drained. It was hopeless. ‘Well, that’s it. It’s over.’
Jenny stood over him, her hands on her hips. ‘I’m sorry. There was never any guarantee this would even work.’
Isobel walked along the electrified perimeter. ‘We didn’t come this far to get turned around.’ She held her hand out inches from the fence then pulled it back.
Albert scrambled to his feet and reached out for her. ‘Isobel, get away. It’s too dangerous.’
Jenny grabbed hold of him. Her strength surprised Albert. They were close to the same age.
Isobel looked upwards. ‘How high do you think this fence is? Ten, twelve feet?’
Jenny nodded. ‘About that.’
‘Please don’t try, Isobel,’ said Albert. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
Isobel smiled at him. ‘A little electricity never hurt me. A lot, well, that’s a different matter.’ She reached out her hand. ‘Time to see how much runs through this fence.’
Albert gasped, his hand outstretched for her. ‘Stop, Isobel.’
Her fingers touched the fence. The wire sparked and shuddered and the sting of electricity in the air forced everyone backwards.
Jenny restrained Albert who watched, horrified, as Isobel grabbed the fence. She turned her head with great difficulty, smiled at them, then removed each hand. The exertion on her body was clear; she stood less tall than before.
‘Are you okay?’ Jenny let go of Albert and caught Isobel as she stumbled backwards. She held her upright.
Isobel pulled a small device out of her pocket. ‘A static eliminator from my home on Exilon 5. It absorbs electricity. I wanted to see how much it would handle.’
‘How did it feel?’ said Jenny.
‘Like it was energising me, but everything worked in slow motion. I could still function, think and move. I could probably climb the fence.’
Albert couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘I didn’t bring you here
so you could risk your life for us.’
Isobel turned her yellow-flecked eyes on him. A startled Albert stood his ground.
‘And what kind of life do I have, Albert? Now that I’m here, I might as well be of use. I see now that you need me.’
A low whirring sound. The roving camera, possibly the same one as before, approached and hovered overhead.
‘We detected a change in the fence’s energy levels. What are you doing to it?’
Albert thought he heard a slight panic in the operator’s voice. He coaxed Isobel forward. He felt her body shudder, probably due to the extra electricity. ‘We want to trade. Your experience for hers.’
The camera hovered close to Isobel’s face. ‘We have no need for a devolved human. Why was she attempting to destabilise our perimeter?’
‘To see if I could climb the fence,’ said Isobel.
The camera hovered to a nearby wall with darker-looking brickwork. It fired a laser shot against the facade. The blast left a large hole.
It turned back. ‘That’s what will happen when anyone makes it over the fence. There are more of these cameras inside.’
‘Fine. We’ll go,’ said Jenny. ‘Come on.’
Albert resisted, but Jenny shot him a look. They turned and walked away from the fence as the camera drifted away.
Jenny stopped and turned to Isobel. ‘Think you can scale that fence before the camera makes it back?’
Isobel nodded and ran to the fence, her movement a blurry haze. She closed her eyes as the electricity danced from the wire to her hands. Her body absorbed some while sparking flashes of static from the eliminator in her pocket stole the rest. She grabbed the wire mesh and climbed. The electricity sapped away her earlier speed.
Albert checked behind him for signs of others. But there was nobody. He wondered if the laser guns kept people away from the campus. He wished he had one of the hovering cameras to patrol the tavern.
Before he could finish his thought, Isobel was over the fence and invisible behind the holographic projection.
Jenny ran forward. ‘Find a way to disable the fence!’
Albert heard Isobel moving about. ‘There’s no control panel that I can see. Any suggestions?’
‘You’re going to have to short it,’ said Jenny.
‘Hold on...’
He heard the noise of something being ripped from the ground. ‘I’ve found a bunch of buried electrical cables. I will strip back the wires and touch them to the fence. It should short-circuit.’
‘Hurry.’
A spray of sparks cascaded over the top of the fence.
The hologram shimmered and blipped. One second, the preserved buildings were there; the next, another image was overlaid on the first. The hologram danced between the two. The roofless buildings and giant sinkholes won out, showing them the partial collapse was worse than previously thought. Half of Widener Library had vanished, swallowed up by the large hole directly beneath it.
Another roving camera emerged on the other side of the fence and raced towards Isobel. ‘Tell me what you did to the fence. Or I’ll use the laser on you.’
‘Do you know what I am?’ said Isobel. ‘I can help you to repair your tunnels.’
‘We have no need for a structural engineer.’
‘What about this?’ She gestured to the severely damaged area around her.
‘Tell me! How did you disable it? The last thing we need is for the criminals to find it in this state.’
‘We shorted it,’ said Jenny. ‘Just flip the breaker and it will come back on.’
The operator mumbled something.
‘But before you do, we want to make a proposition,’ said Jenny. ‘Let us help you.’
The camera hovered by Isobel’s face, its movements erratic. Albert pictured an equally nervous man operating the camera.
Isobel moved in close to the lens. ‘Listen to me very carefully,’ she said. The camera switched to a smoother hover. ‘If you’ve had one collapse, you’re at risk of more.’ She pointed to the sinkhole. ‘The collapse here has most likely weakened the walls. The structure is unstable. These people need a technology expert, so let’s trade.’
The camera circled her once, twice and stopped. ‘Fine, we will speak to you. But not alone. The old man will come with you.’
Albert hesitated, then Jenny stepped forward. ‘I’ll go.’
‘Not you. The old man, or nothing.’
The voice sounded on edge. Did they recognise Jenny?
‘We’ll wait for you both here,’ Jenny said to Albert.
He nodded and climbed the fence. Isobel met him half way and guided him gently down the other side. He tossed his satchel over to Jenny.
‘Extra canisters. I don’t know how long I’ll be.’
Jenny reached into the bag and threw one back. ‘A spare, just in case.’
The fence buzzed with energy. From the other side, Albert could still see the driver, Jenny and Sofia, but when their gazes became unfocused, he assumed the hologram had been reinstated.
A loud hum signalled the fence’s reactivation. Albert and Isobel followed the camera, stepping over piles of bricks and avoiding the edges of sinkholes.
The roving camera led them to the back of Weld Hall. ‘The entrance is inside this building,’ the operator said. ‘You won’t need your mask when you’re inside.’
The camera disappeared through a small hole in a wooden door. Isobel pushed the door open and they stepped inside.
Albert removed his mask and tested the air. He felt no strain on his lungs. He put his mask away and closed the valve on his canister to preserve oxygen. The camera waited for them inside.
‘How about you?’ said Albert to Isobel. ‘Is the air okay?’
Isobel nodded. ‘I’ve been human, then Indigene, then human again. The blood vessels in my lungs absorb more or less oxygen, as required.’
‘Follow quickly,’ said the operator. The camera disappeared through a small hatch in a door set into the floor at a forty-five-degree angle. Isobel pulled the handle up and Albert followed her down a set of steep stone steps into an unremarkable corridor. He closed the door behind him.
A large metal door with a long vertical handle loomed at the bottom of the stairs. The camera flew back up top through the hatch, as someone unlocked the metal door from the inside.
It opened and a well-dressed man stood in the doorway. He had soft blond hair and a dimpled chin. He pointed a Buzz Gun at them.
‘Hello. My name is Olsen. Welcome to the Fortress.’
25
Albert stared at the man stood before him. He didn’t know what a person who had lived underground for years should look like, but it wasn’t this. Olsen wore a grey cable-knit sweater, navy-blue slacks and loafer shoes, no socks. His hair was a yellowish-blond colour, short, carefully combed and parted to the side. He was in his seventies, at least. Albert looked like a vagabond in comparison, dressed in a white shirt, baggy cloth trousers held up by braces, worn black shoes and a raincoat with holes. How had Olsen stayed so presentable, having been isolated from civilisation for so long? What about access to basics like food and water?
Olsen ushered them inside and secured the door.
He smiled at Albert. ‘I can tell from the look on your face I’m not what you expected.’ His accent sounded Danish.
‘Not really.’ Albert narrowed his eyes. Olsen’s accent differed to that of the camera operator.
‘Ah, you expect me to behave like an animal, then?’ Olsen mimicked an ape and scratched under his arms. He straightened up and looked at Isobel. ‘So you’re the structural engineer?’
She nodded. ‘And you are?’
‘One of many.’ He holstered the Buzz Gun. ‘No need for this down here. You’re trapped and outnumbered.’ Olsen jerked his head and they followed him down a tunnel leading away from the door.
As they walked, Olsen turned to Isobel. ‘How did you fool the criminal gangs?’
‘They think I’m an emp
ath.’
Olsen laughed. ‘Probably the most useless Indigenes known to the human race. Well, on Earth, anyway. We don’t need psychologists. We need skilled labourers.’
They walked along the smooth tunnel that had probably been bored out by a precise drilling tool. Olsen gestured them to a room on the left. Inside, Albert saw three black leather sofas and a glass table with several DPads scattered on it. The DPads looked in reasonable condition.
‘Welcome to our home. This is where we like to kick back, relax. It can get tense when you’re living with the same people all the time.’
‘Try living in one of the neighbourhoods,’ said Albert. ‘You don’t know what “tense” is. I have close to thirty refugees living on my floor because of the life-support issue.’
Olsen’s smile carried a hint of tension. He walked through the relaxation room and into what appeared to be the kitchen with a large wooden table and eight chairs. Three replicator machines, black and boxy, sat on a counter on the right. Another door made of brushed metal with a vertical handle sat between two tall, glass-doored cupboards, with cups and plates in one and glasses in the other. A strong light leaked under the door.
Albert was about to ask what was in the room when he became aware of eyes on him. A man with unruly black hair and a woman with brown shoulder-length hair sat at the table watching him.
‘Robinson, Hayes, this is...’ Olsen hesitated. ‘Sorry, I don’t know your names.’
Albert made the introductions and Olsen nodded to his colleagues.
‘Robinson is our resident medic and Hayes is our IT expert.’
‘What’s in there?’ Albert said, nodding towards the door with the bright light.
Olsen smiled. ‘We call it our sunshine room.’
Sunshine? Albert stared at the door and a stab of jealousy hit him. How many years had it been since he’d felt the sun on his skin?
‘How many of you live down here?’ said Isobel.
‘Twenty or so,’ said Robinson. He eyed Isobel. ‘Have you any medical training? I’ve been dying to swap medical techniques with an Indigene.’
‘I’m sorry, no.’
