Undersea (32 page)

But it was the end of the hall that had her worried, and the impending doom grew with every step. The last engine room had been sealed off, a crude lock fashioned into the welded plates that sealed up the rest of the entrance. Something gave her a deep, almost visceral, feeling of danger.

Outside the lock was a middle-aged man with receding, greasy hair. He had a nervous presence about him, and Ralla could see why. As they approached, he stepped away from the lock as if it meant him personal harm. He looked her up and down disapprovingly.

“I told him I wasn’t going to be a party to her murder,” he said, jabbing a bony finger at one of her guards. The guards said nothing, but the engineer could tell by their expressions not to press the matter. He addressed Ralla, looking at her directly for the first time. “I told the Governor this was no place for a woman. I told him you’d just get in the way and when you got yourself killed, you’d probably take out an entire shift.”

Ralla wanted to take what this weaselly man was saying as a challenge, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the improvised lock. Whatever they were trying to contain inside was bad. This guy knew it, even the guards knew it. Only the threat of the two goons and their weapons kept her from running.

“Do you understand?” the man asked. She realized she hadn’t been listening. Before she could say “no,” the guards had grabbed her arms and were moving her towards the entrance. It was then, through the small transparent panel in the lock, that she could see a tiny bit of what was beyond. Her breathing sped up, and as they pushed her bodily into the small chamber, it had become gasps of near panic.

The first door sealed behind her, but it took some time for the lock to cycle. The pressure grew, popping her ears twice. She continued to gasp, the artificial atmo becoming thicker and thicker. The air gripped every inch of her body.

The inner lock cycled, grinding open. Ice-cold water rushed in, numbing her feet, while the heat and pressure of the air made her cough violently. She recovered, and forced herself to look out at the space.

The generator and motor were actually running, defying all logic and safety. The water lapped up against the generator, suggesting impending death by electrocution. A dozen weary workers had paused from their various jobs to stare at her. Two were trying to keep a bilge pump going; the rest were toiling away at the most horrifying task Ralla had ever seen.

It seemed the entire outer and inner hull had been blown out in an explosion. A barricade of metal panels had been hurriedly welded together in an attempt to seal off the engine room from the ocean beyond. On the
Uni
, this was a temporary measure so dry suited engineers could rebuild the hull. That didn’t seem to be the case here. They had over-pressurized the room so it could be drained and still use the propulsion unit. The stunning disregard for safety was appalling enough, but it was much worse than that. The pressure was capable of so much. The ocean was still getting in, one tiny crack and pinhole at a time. The entire wall seemed in imminent verge of collapse. The water on the floor was just the most obvious part of an entire situation that bordered on total catastrophe.

It was a waking nightmare. If all or even part of the wall fell, either the violent pressure change would kill everyone in the room instantly or they’d drown. If the water level got too high, they’d be electrocuted. The room felt of death.

All her energy, her pride, her optimism from the previous days was gone. Oppai had won. Every fear from her childhood formed fully and physically into a menacing wall of welded steel and dripping water. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the other workers look at her with their defeated, lifeless faces. She clenched her fist to bang it against the door. It was time to give up. Anything to be out of this room. To be anywhere else. The fear absorbed her. Panic like she had never known. It was as if Oppai’s hands were in her chest, trying to pull her inside out.

Everything she was wanted to bang on the door and surrender. Everything engrained into her to fear for her entire life lay before her in this room. These men would die. Something would happen and they’d die, and she’d die, in the worst way imaginable.

But her hand didn’t move. Her clenched fist remained pressed against the door. For a moment she was in the transport with Thom after they had escaped the dome, what seemed like years earlier. As the water filled up, she remembered the feeling of panic as they flooded the stricken sub. She felt like she was going to drown, the suit irrelevant. Thom had held her close then. Held her against him. He must have been scared too. They barely knew each other then. She felt his body against hers now. The water around her feet, cold like it was then. They had flooded the sub to get free. They had faced death to face life. Oppai couldn’t win now. Not now. Not ever. And in that moment, he didn’t.

Ralla’s eyes snapped open, burning with determination. They were all still looking at her. In their faces she saw her fear. The same terror that came with knowing death was looming above them, all around them. She stepped out of the lock into the engine room, the water lapping up against her calves. She ignored it. The workers each wore different clothes, but they all had one thing she needed.

“Give me some boots, and let’s get started.”

VI

The familiar sights, sounds, and smells of the
Universalis
were small comfort for Thom, the crew of the
Reappropriation
,
and its surviving support fleet. There was a small gathering of family members when they arrived, but those who had gotten bad news in the days previous were absent.

Thom accepted hugs from his friends and made his way to the Garden. Eerre seemed to sense his mood, and offered him a hand on the shoulder and a hearty meal in silence. Thom hugged him when he finished, then went to his cabin. He was almost surprised to see it exactly as he had left it. It was all his, but seemed so foreign. The bed was just as unmade as he had left it, though that seemed like someone else. His clothes were in piles on the floor, dropped there when someone else packed for the
Reap.
His someone else’s towel hung from the shower door. On his someone else's bed he sat down and cried his own tears, and those for someone else.

Thom met Proctor Jills in the Council chambers that evening, as requested. They stood in silence on the balcony, overlooking the Yard. It was obvious that Thom had been crying, but Jills didn’t mention it.

“Come with me. I want to show you something,” Jills finally said.

“What?”

“Something that will make you feel better.”

They left the chambers and entered a stairwell adjacent to the elevators, the style and aesthetic trappings of the carpeted corridors replaced by the stairwell’s stark industrial design. They went up.

The stairway straightened out and arched away from them, following the curve of the hull above. Soon they were in the Spine, and Jills turned towards the bow. The raw latticework began to give way to partially finished walls, then old, but unworn, carpet. Ahead was an open space, dim compared to the harsh lighting of the hallway.

After they stepped through, Jills closed the door to the hallway and for a moment they were in darkness. It took Thom’s eyes a moment to adjust. The room was perfectly round, with a waist-high wall. Above them was a transparent dome, showing the sea around them, all the way up to the surface far above. Sunlight trickled down, giving just enough light to see.

“I’ve never been up here before.”

“I hadn’t either, until a few weeks ago,” Jills replied taking in the view himself. “This was originally designed to be the Council’s meeting chambers. Apparently they didn’t like it. Turns out some people don’t like to look out into the open like this.”

“It’s also pretty exposed.”

“That would be the other reason. Here, look out the starboard side.”

In the dim, his face close to the glass, Thom could see a dark, unnatural shape in the distance, just at the edge of what was visible. It was perfectly straight, rising up from the seafloor out of sight, up past the ship, all the way to the surface.

“When we approached we came from the other side of the
Uni
.”

“I know.”

“I guess I hadn’t thought you’d have made much progress. Is there ice growth?”

“Some. Things are proceeding a little slower up there than Dr. Gattley had hoped, but they are proceeding.”

“Has anyone been to the surface? Has anyone walked on it yet?”

“Are you volunteering?”

“I... I don’t know. Maybe.” This one dark vertical line in the distance had turned him into a schoolboy. The wonder of it, seeing the Fountain—the actual thing—with his own eyes. There was so much hope.

“They’re still taking readings. Seems like the radiation levels are pretty good this far north. We can ask Awbee later, but her last report said that in a few weeks, depending on winds, we may be able to risk someone going topside for a few hours. Maybe even a day.”

“Topside,” Thom let the word hang in the air. They stood in silence for several minutes.

Knowing it would ruin the mood, Jills brought Thom back to reality.

“I’m sorry you lost so many men,” he said quietly. Thom’s excitement slid from his face as the reality of it all returned to him.

“There was nothing I could do.”

“I agree. But you see,” Jills said, motioning out towards the Fountain.

“I ‘saw’ before I came up here. Doesn’t change anything.”

“I suppose not, in some ways.”

They stood awkwardly for a few more minutes.

“They’re telling me it will be a week or more to repair your ship,” said Jills finally. “I’d like for you to take some time and relax. Eat well. You can afford it now. I need you to be at your best when you go back out. We all do.”

Thom said nothing.

“The dockyard should have a few more subs to fill in your numbers. We have two other patrols that are going to be out at the same time. This is the most crucial time. We need to protect the Fountain at all costs. Thom,” Jills said, turning to face him. “Do I need to be any more clear? Our individual lives mean nothing in the face of the Fountain. Without it, we all die. Our species dies.”

“I know. You told me already. I get it and I’m sure for some people that would make it easier. Make it so they could file it away, compartmentalize it. But I can’t. I’ve tried. I told those men, my men, that I’d get them all back safely, and I was wrong. So don’t lecture me on the fate of our people, Proctor Jills. I seem to understand the fate of people better than you.”

Jills opened his mouth to speak, but Thom cut him off.

“I’ll be ready when my ship is. This is just harder than you seem to realize. How many of the people we’re killing would switch to our side if they knew what we were doing? If they knew we weren’t the enemy?”

“No, Thom, that’s where you’re wrong. They
are
the enemy. They’re trying to kill you. Trying to destroy this ship and the Fountain. If we could get them all to see the error in their ways, that would be great. But despite your wishful thinking, that’s not going to be accomplished with a friendly message and a few food packs. I will mourn every death we cause, but not now. Now we must be vigilant, otherwise it won’t matter that we felt guilt because we won’t be alive to feel remorse. Does that make sense, Commander?”

Thom said nothing.

“There’s one other thing. Three hours ago we received another transmission from Governor Oppai. It was the usual mad vitriol, but it also seemed to suggest that his pursuit of the Fountain is becoming an obsession. He gave us an ultimatum, instructing us to disclose its location, or he would kill Ralla Gattley.”

Thom spun to face Jills.

“She’s still alive?”

“We don’t know for sure. He at least wants us to think so. His voice sounded desperate. I responded myself. I told him that under no terms would we divulge the location of the Fountain, and if approached by any ship, we would strike it down with lethal force.”

“You killed her.”

“If she was still alive, yes, you are probably right. So it seems I’m not as removed from the death as you seem to think.”

“What was their response?”

“We’re expecting it within the hour. Mrakas has insisted he hear it when it comes in, and despite my, and all his doctors’, better judgment, he remains indefatigable.”

“If things go wrong, it’s going to kill him.”

“I think he knows that.”

It was worse than she had feared, and was only going to get worse still. On the second day laboring in the decaying engine room, two of her fellow workers had been killed. The ship had taken a sudden turn and the water in the room sloshed around, causing the generator to short. Their deaths were instantaneous. Ralla and the rest of the crew were hanging from crude, temporary scaffolding trying to weld over weak spots when it happened. They hung in the darkness and the silence for over an hour before someone on the outside tripped the breakers for the section. The smell of burnt flesh permeated the poorly ventilated space. Ralla wasn’t the only one who vomited.

Two days later, a microfissure erupted, causing panic as the water levels rose rapidly. This time, someone cut the breaker before the water reached the generator, and they worked under the lights of the welding torches for eight hours trying to get the wall sealed. By the time they finished, the water was to Ralla’s ribs.

The other hours and days, living under the constant fear of death, were spent hauling sheets of metal that weighed more than Ralla herself. The emaciated workers fared little better than she did. She was sure someone Thom’s size could have hauled one of the sheets with only minor difficulty. It took her and two workers, and usually a fourth.

She had tried, at first, to find out more about her fellow inmates, but they were laconic. It seemed like they were prisoners, like her, but were not
Uni
natives. They had all been surprised when she had told them where she was from. Soon, though, the brutality of the job removed any chance or desire to talk. Even at the end of the shift, or during the short breaks for food, they were all too exhausted to speak. They spent their days working, then returned to their respective cabins or cells and slept until their next shift. There was a “B” team that came in when her “A” team wasn’t there, but so little work was accomplished, she was sure they were even fewer in number.