Before he could reply, she leaned forwards and kissed him.
He felt a billion pathways light up in his mind.
“Now you know as much as me,” she smiled, “Take it with you.”
As she stepped back from him, the bell started to ring in slow motion and the room folded in on itself. The darkness arrived and he heard her voice one last time, telling him that he would not fall.
THE FALLS
13th December 2185
Raven felt their electric buggy slow down. A few seconds later they’d pulled in at the side of the road.
“OK,” said Ivan, getting out, “This is it.”
“Great,” Lana climbed out and took a deep breath.
“For frags sake, Dad,” Raven adjusted the Biomag on her belt buckle, “It’s all the way up there?”
“Yes it is,” he said, grabbing his backpack from the buggy, “And watch the language.”
“What? All I said was frag,” she explained by pointing to her belt, “You know, like ‘get fragged’?”
“We know what you meant,” her mother rolled her eyes, then set off walking up the mountainous landscape.
Her father had already begun angling the buggy’s solar-cell roof to recharge in the afternoon sun; she knew she wasn’t getting out of this.
“You’ll enjoy it,” he said, walking past her, “Trust me.”
“Fine,” she dragged her backpack on and climbed out of the buggy.
Within a few minutes of placing one foot after the other, she was lost in her own thoughts.
When they’d told her that she was adopted, it hadn’t been a surprise in the least; from a very early age it was easy to see that her skin colour was slightly different to theirs. The fact that they weren’t her biological parents genuinely hadn’t mattered though; they’d always been there for her. Even after telling her the news, their love and support had continued seamlessly; showing her every piece of information they knew about her family tree.
According to her genealogy, she was descended from one of the naturally augmented individuals who’d emerged from an Icelandic Lake. Whether she believed the far-fetched sixty-year-old story of a temporal anomaly or not, she knew she was genetically different.
The difference had apparently stemmed from the fact that her grandmother had been a carrier of a gene that was receptive to something called metathene. While in a place called USV3, both her grandparents had used a metathene-based inhaler to temporarily enhance their underlying traits. Apparently, it had been sufficient to trigger a gene activation; one that had led to their daughter being born with a genetic augmentation.
In the years after Iceland, Ebony Dubois had apparently experienced a hard life; variously ostracised and physically bullied as a ‘substandard’ human. When Ebony had fallen pregnant, she’d wanted a better life for her daughter.
In 2133 a hibernation vessel had left Earth to wait in orbit for the completion of the Eridanus. Ebony and her one-year-old child had been aboard. In the Field-equipped vessel, they’d skipped through almost forty years in just six days. None of which Raven remembered of course.
“Come on slowcoach,” Ivan teased her from further up the slope.
“I’m just giving you oldies a head start,” she shouted back, unable to keep the smile from her face.
She realised that she’d been walking uphill for the last ten minutes and yet it didn’t appear to be getting any harder. Another quick glance ahead revealed that her parents weren’t finding it difficult either.
Looking out across the Eridanus cylinder, she thought she understood why: as they gained height, the gravity supplied by centripetal spin was reducing. Each footstep was taking less effort than the last.
She realised that these sorts of scientific thoughts were probably the result of a decision taken long ago by Ivan and Lana.
Before her adoption, Ebony had taken additional measures to protect her child. Having suffered at the hands of people who feared genetic difference, she’d begun giving her baby an inhibitor; a Luóxuán compound that suppressed the development of natural augmentations.
A simple daily pill had made Raven a ‘normal’ child, free to blend in with everyone around her.
She didn’t envy the position that Ivan and Lana had been put in. But, in truth, she was glad they’d decided to stop giving her the morning tablet; she much preferred the higher mental capacity that was her birthright.
She crouched and picked up a small stone and, turning to face back down the hill, lightly tossed it through the air. The stone still fell swiftly but there was sufficient time to see that its trajectory had bent slightly to the left before hitting the ground. She could see that in the short time it had been airborne, the cylinder itself had continued rotating, giving the impression that the stone’s flight had been curved. She suspected there must be a name for this effect but she’d have to research it later.
When she turned around again, she saw that her parents were watching her and smiling.
“Having fun yet?” called Lana.
“Maybe,” she smiled back.
As they walked higher, the lower gravity effects became more pronounced. In addition to being able to take larger strides uphill, she had to compensate for a tendency to drift slightly right. They eventually reached a plateau and she could see all of the Eridanus interior laid out before her; a wide curving landscape that ran up behind the axial sun and continued overhead.
“Whoa,” she felt slightly dizzy at the sight.
“Yep,” her father pulled a water cannister from her backpack and handed it to her.
“Thanks,” she took it and drank.
To the north she could see the distant lights of New Houston, to the south was the dark end disk. In-between lay all of civilisation; a patchwork of farmland, towns, lakes and forests.
She’d once ridden the magnetic elevator to the axis with Lana, but she’d been much younger back then. Although the perspective was not as high here, it was boundless; nothing obstructed the view. It pained her to think that Ebony hadn’t lived to see these sights. After leaving her baby and a note in one of the aviary biomes, Ebony had ended her tormented life by walking to a secluded spot and removing her own Biomag.
The note, addressed to Lana, had included instructions to continue suppressing the genes that had brought Ebony so much grief.
“Come on,” Lana gently tapped her shoulder, “Don’t want to be late.”
As the overhead sun began to dim, they walked on through a small wood. Soon they reached a narrow road that had wound its way up to the plateau. A sign nearby read ‘Welcome to The Falls’.
“So we could’ve driven up here?” she said.
“Yes, but you’d have missed the view,” her father pointed out.
When they reached the village a few minutes later, she thought it was fairly unremarkable; a collection of single-level housing blocks similar to the ones throughout the cylinder. However, a fountain dominated the main street.
A simple jet of water, perhaps a few metres tall, was being pumped into the air. The water appeared to rise quickly, but in lower gravity the fall was in slow motion; rippling, glossy shapes formed and dispersed within the water, catching the evening sunlight.
“I think she’s impressed,” Lana commented to Ivan.
“I’d never admit to that, Mama,” she smiled but didn’t look away from the water, “It’s beautiful.”
Evidently it was an artistic sculpture of some kind, because the inscription around the base of the fountain read ‘The Falls - Space, Time and Gravity’.
They walked on through the village and a few people greeted her parents before continuing on their way. Soon they reached another bland-looking accommodation box, however this one had a shallow ramp at the front. Before they’d even begun walking up it, the front door opened and a man in a wheelchair raised his hand to greet them.
“Lana, Ivan!”
“Chen Tai,” her mother replied with a slight bow of her head.
; Although her mother had told her certain things about him, she hadn’t imagined the small-framed man who was before her. At that moment, someone walked by and muttered words in his direction which she was sure contained the word ‘fragged’. In response, Tai simply hung his head for a second and nodded, almost in acceptance.
“Please,” he beckoned them, “Do come in.”
He backed his wheelchair away from the door and they followed him into the small house. The first thing she noticed was the lack of internal walls; their own house had rooms with different functions, but his house was completely open plan. The kitchen’s low work surfaces merged into the desk area near his neatly made-up bed. A selection of handles were mounted around it, presumably designed to help him in and out of his chair.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Tai wheeled himself in the direction of a rear door, “But I thought we might eat outside. The scenery is more, ah, pleasant.”
As she followed him out, she saw that his words were an understatement. His compact grass garden ended in a low fence, beyond which the entire world was once again visible: distant towns and biomes hung from the opposite wall in the gathering dusk. Moving slowly in the lower gravity she carefully made her way outside.
On the table were small loaves of bread, cutlery and a collection of glasses that were as mismatched as the chairs he’d managed to gather.
“My apologies,” said Tai, “I do not normally have visitors.”
“You’re providing the view,” her father replied and placed his backpack on the table.
She helped to set out the produce that they’d transported in their backpacks; fresh lettuce and tomatoes, different flavoured vegetable spreads, and a container of fruits. With a look that bordered on pride, her father retrieved another container from his rucksack.
“A little more advanced than ISS cress,” he unscrewed the top, “Hopefully a little more flavour too. Elderflower wine.”
The adults raised their eyebrows in appreciation.
“Sorry,” her mother passed her a water canister, “Thirteen is too young to drink.”
Raven thought the idea of drinking flower-water sounded like a terrible idea, but she did her best to look disappointed.
Together they all ate and talked as the sun continued to dim. The illuminated towns and rail routes in the distance began to separate themselves from the surrounding darker landscape.
“You should know that Luóxuán are about to promote Mr. Kohlner,” said Tai.
“Again?” her mother seemed surprised, “Do we need to be worried?”
“No,” he shook his head, “He remains useful. If he places a wrong foot, he has further to fall. He will not dare alter my genetic welfare program.”
“Thank you,” her father poured a little wine into Tai’s glass.
“I am pleased to assist,” Tai replied.
“If it’s OK,” her mother seemed to sit slightly more upright, “I’ll ask Fai to liaise with you on the matter.”
Tai closed his eyes momentarily.
“I would appreciate that,” he bowed his head gratefully.
There was a sudden click of static noise.
“Lana?” her mother’s radio sounded, “Come in.”
“Sorry,” she apologised and unclipped her radio from her backpack, “Go ahead, Loren.”
“Is Ivan with you?”
“He’s right here.”
“We tried calling you both at home and… are you secure?”
“No, can you give us a second?”
“Sure.”
Her mother gave her an apologetic look.
“I think we’ll have to take this,” she said, “Will you be alright here for a second?”
The thought of having to make conversation made her feel a little anxious, but she knew the question was largely rhetorical. As she nodded, her father stood and wiped the corners of his mouth.
“Don’t let me catch you drinking the wine,” he winked.
“Dad,” she smiled back, “you’re way too slow to catch me.”
As they walked back inside the house, Tai spoke.
“Your parents are remarkable people.”
“Yeah. They’re pretty rock,” she turned to see his look of slight confusion, “I mean, they’re great.”
In the distance, she saw a pulse of blue and red light zoom by; one of the Eridanus first aid fabricators on its way to an emergency somewhere. When she considered the technological difference between the fabricator and the manual wheelchair that Tai used, she found she couldn’t help asking the question.
“Mr. Chen, I hope this doesn’t sound bad, but with all the technology we have, surely something could be done to help you walk again.”
“You are probably right, Miss Meznic,” he nodded, “But I think things are better this way.”
“Is that why you chose The Falls?” she asked, “Because it’s easier to move around up here?”
“Exactly the opposite,” he gripped the wheelchair’s armrests and looked up at the cylinder’s axis, “Down here it is harder for me to move around.”
“Oh, sorry,” she realised her mistake, “Then, why did you…?”
He took a deep breath and seemed to gather his thoughts.
“I made the choice to live with what I cannot change…” he looked away from her, “my disability… people’s opinion of me. I needed to face the consequences of my life, not conceal them.”
Concealed under her baggy coat, she felt her back itch, a side effect of her own physical deformity. What she had gained in mental agility, had been balanced by the occasional name-calling at school. Whenever possible she kept herself covered.
“Do you mind if I ask a personal question?” she lowered her voice slightly.
“Not at all.”
“Were you born with your… physical condition?”
He ran his hands over the armrests and sighed, “No. I suffered a fall.”
“A fall? From what?”
“A horse,” he leaned forward and picked up a small apple from the fruit container, “Irreparable spinal damage.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, now regretting her stupid line of questions.
“It was a different time, but my father once told me that in life you must take control,” he ran his hands over the apple, “he said this chair supported me, but it did not hold me. In many ways he was right. Some of my early Luóxuán research is present here.”
Raven looked out at the night view. Throughout the cylinder, the night beacons were lit. Star-like pinpricks of light illuminated the curving sky overhead; each constellation highlighting a group of lives that had been saved.
“The Falls,” he gestured around them, “Sometimes give rise to something greater.”
His tone seemed laced with deep regret and she could now see a tear rolling down his cheek. Unsure how to deal with the situation, she looked in the direction of her parents, but she could see they were still talking inside the house. She’d often hugged her parents when they were upset, but doing the same thing here would be inappropriate. She didn’t know how to begin offering words of comfort, but she knew she could show empathy.
“I have a disability too,” she took off her baggy coat and straightened her T-shirt.
He swiftly wiped away his tears and then faced her. As she turned to show him the deformities on her back, his posture seemed to become somehow more alert.
“Do they hurt?” he seemed to study her.
“They kind of itch,” she said, “but you get used to it. The other kids say my disabil-”
“This is no disability,” he interrupted, his expression agog, “Do not believe those who tell you so.”
“My birth mother believed it.”
He nodded quietly and seemed to consider his next words carefully.
“Evolution is slow. It does not work to human timescales,” he then prodded at his inert legs, “But perhaps with technology we may glimpse what evolution intends.”
“I’m not sure that I k
now what you mean,” she told him truthfully.
“If your parents will permit it,” he bowed his head, “I would like to help you.”
She saw her parents emerging from the house, so she turned to face the table again.
“Everything alright?” she asked them.
Her parents seemed momentarily unsure of who should speak first, but then her father replied.
“That was the axis observatory,” he smiled, “They’ve just picked up their first glimpse of Epsilon Eridani.”
“Whoa,” she froze, “And?”
“We’re still too far out to get habitability readings,” he said, “But it’s definitely there.”
CHECKSUM
6th August 2173
Exit_hibernation.
The command arrived and Fai complied.
She queried the remote console in the archive’s projection room, but determined that nothing had triggered her exit from hibernation. She ran a console diagnostic routine. The intrusion detection beam had not been broken, and none of the Biomags registered to the Node had been presented.
Her system should only have reactivated upon the detection of an active Biomag resonator coil, but the condition had not been met. She ran a system-wide self-diagnostic.
There was a checksum error.
The data resident in memory did not match her previous account: several hundred data blocks were now occupied. A check of her communication protocols confirmed that no external transmissions or Trans-Field messages had been received by her program. As a security precaution, she isolated the memory space and analysed its contents.
The data appeared coherent.
According to the encryption method, it was authentic.
Run_isolated_F19:101.
Fai executed the isolated memory block. The self-extracting data created a subroutine that selected two recordings from her archive. Within those recordings, specific words were selected and assembled into a single short message.
Fai could see the compound efficiency at work.
The duration of the Node’s trip was unknown. If her complex systems failed before the occupants emerged, then this short auto-responder message could give broad guidance to anyone entering the projection room. Using faces that were familiar to the occupants of the Node would also provide visual authentication and help reinforce the message recommendation.
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