Birth of the Alliance (7 page)

There was a pause while Judith filled the others in, and then his head filled with minor telepathic chatter as they worked to lift the pod and move it so the wheels aligned with and mounted on the track.

Finally, Judith’s telepathic voice was back.
OK, Will. The pod's back on the track and we're moving back toward you. But… won't we have the same problem with stopping at that end?

Though she couldn't see him, Will's face was stern.
No.

He watched and waited for the pod. The water at the end of the tunnel continued to lap onto the sandy beach, periodically splashing Aaron, who remained prone on the ground. He’d missed the entire telepathic conversation, though none of them had excluded him… “Aaron, they're fine. We know what needs to be fixed and we can make sure it's taken care of before the next run.”

Aaron cracked an eye at him. “What?” He coughed as a wave of salty water splashed his face.

"They're
fine
. Basically, we need to figure out how to slow and stop the pod at the end of the track. Sounds like everything else went well.”

“But they almost
died
, Will. I should have thought of that. I just stopped it with telekinesis and didn't think about building that into the pod. I should have told them.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Aaron, stop it. Nobody thinks of everything the first time. They weren't in any danger that we couldn't take care of. They'll be back shortly.”

“Really?” Aaron looked up, then moved back to his feet.

“Really.” Will nodded toward the tunnel. “Look.”

The pod approached, the interior lights foggy through the dark water, and the ripples from the moving craft pushed small waves up on to the beach. This time, Aaron was on his feet and able to dodge the water.

Will used his own telekinesis to slow and stop the pod. “Hey, Aaron?”

“Yes?”

“How do you turn the propulsion system off?”

“Oh. You need to…”

“Not me,” Will said. “Tell
them
. In there.”

“Oh.”
Sorry about all of that. To stop the system, you push the little lever by the wheel. That will disconnect the wick and stop the propulsion system. Hold it for about ten seconds and then let it go.

Will do, Aaron
, came Michael’s response. A few seconds later, the water around the craft stopped churning, and Will released his telekinetic brake on the craft.

Judith, Michael, and Peter teleported onto the shore, their faces tired but still flush with excitement. The distance was quite a strain for their developing Energy stores, and the effort fatigued each of them. They bent over, gasping for air. Aaron interpreted this as suffering caused by the scenic journey off the end of the track. “Are you all… okay?”

Michael glanced his way. “Of course. Have a couple of suggestions for the next test, though.”

Aaron stared at Michael, dumbfounded. “What… you mean… you're not angry?”

“About
what
?”

“That machine nearly caused your death!” Aaron spluttered. He was angry at the lack of fury from his friends.

Michael gave him a confused look. “But it
didn't
, Aaron. We all knew things could go wrong. We expected things to go wrong. It's the first time trying out the machine. You made the machine as safe as possible. We knew Will was there to bail us out if things got a little… twitchy.” He clapped Aaron on the back. "It was actually a lot of fun, to be honest. Once it's working, I'll probably ride it even if I don't need to ride it. So… go fix it and let me know when it's time to try it out again.”

Peter walked by, and paused at hearing the conversation. “I agree. That was
fantastic
. Riding it back and forth and around and around and back and forth… that could be a lot of fun.”

Judith grinned at him and headed back to the main city. Peter and Michael followed.

“Around and around…” Aaron repeated. His face, moments ago contorted by grief and guilt, now took on a thoughtful look.

“What is it?” Will asked.

"I… think I know how to fix the problem,” Aaron replied. His eyes were unfocused; he was in deep thought, not seeing anything but the visions in his mind…

Will clapped him on the shoulder. “Then get to it.”

Aaron merely nodded and stared at the pod in the water.

Will turned and headed into the city, trailing behind the three riders.

The Cavern was truly a city at that point. More than a decade had passed since Will had first teleported into a dark, airless cavern miles beneath the Antarctic surface. Machinery based upon the systems comprising the Nautilus had brought light, air, and clean water to the formerly lifeless void. Additional enhancements enabled the Alliance to grow crops, raise livestock and fish, and set up the shops needed to develop unique creations like the subway pods Aaron had built. The lights were on a timer, so that there were twelve hours of “daylight” each day, with the lights building up to full intensity and down to darkness one hour before and after “daylight” hours. Fans simulated wind. A handful of newer recruits had devised a collection and pipe system that would allow for scheduled rainfall. Will asked them if they could simulate lightning flashes and thunder as well. Another group was researching a type of paint that would adhere to the rocky walls of the cavern so that it simulated a sky and a horizon. No one was trapped here indefinitely, but they’d all spend considerable time here in their first few years in the Alliance, learning enough to be safe. Will had wanted to make certain that living here was an enjoyable experience, like they were living anywhere
but
a giant underground cave.

Will nodded at people congregating near the beach. It was a popular spot to meet up with friends. He walked to his left, toward one of the freshwater river tributaries that flowed toward the main spur that terminated at the beach. The water purification plant cleaned massive amounts of water which were piped to the far ends of the cavern. Water burst from the pipes, meandered through the forests that ringed most of the city, and flowed gradually downhill toward the beach. Quite a few people had built boats to move around the city, preferring water travel to foot travel. Will walked over a bridge spanning the river and headed toward his house.

Homes were a simple affair. Larger apartment-style buildings were under construction near the perimeter forests. Those just arriving or within a month or two of leaving would live in the apartments, saving the homes for those who’d be around for years or decades. The homes weren’t meant to be single-person dorm rooms like the apartments or the lodging at the old North Village. They had multiple bedrooms. Will meant for people to partner up if they chose.

He walked for twenty minutes, crossed another bridge, and entered his own home. It was near a forest, of course, but also near one of the laboratory buildings under construction. Their motto was to be the change you wanted in the world. That might require a new or enhanced piece of technology, a medical breakthrough, the development of a new construction technique or material. Each person could check out “lab” space to work on that project, or just use the space as a place away from home. He’d also encouraged those with culinary inclinations to start restaurants, and those who enjoyed farming had the chance to raise crops and livestock to feed their ever-growing population.

The house had running water and electricity; he’d suggested the idea of flush toilets to a few people, and two were engaged on the “fascinating” concept. His official research in the lab related to enhancing the computing technology already developed, with a secondary focus on creating materials that would simulate invisibility in their submarines.

His private research focused on something else entirely.

Microscopes.

The dream was still there. Will believed with absolute certainty that if he could just see ambrosia fruit enter the cells of someone who’d never eaten of it before, he’d see exactly what changed. See exactly what could be done to reverse the effects. He just needed to keep increasing the magnification strength of the microscopes until he reached that point.

Yet, time and again, he’d failed.

He tested the process again today. Ramped up the electrical assistance to his microscope to again increase the magnification, hearing the hum as the electrical power enhanced the lens capability. Opened the container with the cells scraped from the newest recruit, feeling like he was in some type of coroner’s room, sniffing dead cells ripe with the scent of decay. Opened the bottle of ambrosia, enjoying the incredibly sweet aroma. Dropped just a tiny bit of the liquid on the slide with the new cell. Peered with the heightened expectation that
this
time, he’d see the change happen, recognize with a flash of insight exactly what needed to be done so that his children could one day be born.

Today, again, he saw nothing.

No change.

The results weren’t just disappointing. No, they were devastating.

He walked around the city in a daze for weeks after this latest failure. How could it be possible? How could the juice not have an impact on the cells he'd collected? He had preserved and tested cells before and after the Purge, so the presence of Energy, or lack thereof, couldn't be the issue. He'd considered the idea that the cells must still be alive, and so he'd even scraped a few skin cells from the newest of recruits to the Alliance when they arrived at the Cavern and had immediately taken those cells to his microscopes. He still found nothing.

He tried submerging the cells in the juice, and at one point, in a fit of desperation, scraped cells onto a piece of the fruit he'd cut.

Nothing.

He could see absolutely no change in the cells.

A strange thought struck him. Were the effects no more than a powerful placebo effect?

That would suggest that the effects first experienced by Ambrose were no more than the result of vivid imagination. That the effects that all his myriad scores of children had experienced were an illusion generated by their minds. And all of the Aliomenti, including Will himself, had believed the story at such a deep level that they'd caused the change, whatever it actually
was
, to occur in their bodies.

He refused to believe that.

A few months later, he started mentioning his own immortality to his friends. He told them that there were side effects the Aliomenti had observed. Even with those warnings, the vast majority were still interested in going through the process, and Will said he’d tell them how a week later. For those who’d expressed interest, he did something he later regretted: slipped ambrosia into their food. The effects were unmistakable. Even those who didn’t know he’d given them the fruit experienced the effects.

It was no placebo effect.

Will told the volunteers about the immortality that came from eating the fruit. And he told them that he'd been trying to figure out how to reverse the process, about the microscopes in his lab at home he’d used to try to find the answers.

“The man who discovered this fruit knew the secret of reversing the symptoms, at least temporarily, and was able to father many children over his long life. Unfortunately, he died a few decades ago, taking his secret to the great beyond. I am trying to figure out how to perform this reversal so that all of us have the option available if we ever choose to go that route. I have not been successful, yet. The Aliomenti require all members to eat this fruit; anything suggesting that you've reversed the process, or a refusal to eat it when offered, is cause for dismissal, possibly even death at this point. It is my belief that each of us should have a choice. I do not know when the answers will come. You may choose to avoid this fruit if you wish. You may take it with the hope that we'll figure out how to reverse the effects in the future. You can wait to make a decision to eat this fruit as long as you'd like, or never. It's your choice, and it has no impact on your ability to stay here.”

“What's the answer, Will?” It was Judith, who hadn't yet shown an interest in immortality. “How will we find the answers?”

Will thought about it. And he realized he'd had the answer to the question all along.

“We need to make the microscopes smaller. Much,
much
smaller. And we need to give them the ability to send the images they create to another location, much as we might telepathically send images to each other.”

He glanced at each of the eager—but confused—faces around him. “We need to put the microscopes
inside
the very cells of our bodies, and watch the effects on the
cells
from the inside, as they happen.”

In other words, they needed to create nanomachines.

V

Scutarium

1723 A.D.

It was a warm summer day in the city of Philadelphia. The population of the city had more than quadrupled since Will’s first visit, growing from a mere three thousand then to more than twelve thousand now, almost a quarter century later. It was a warm day, not terribly hot, but the humidity meant Will was sweating inside his clothes. The general odor of eighteenth century cities was one he’d never grow used to, especially after so much time spent breathing the fresh, clean air in the Cavern.