Digital Venous (24 page)

They both stood there in silence marveling at the spectacle. Shane had to consciously think about breathing. Charles kept rubbing the top of his head as if to check that the situation was real. What was obvious were the eight cables attached to the top of the elevator and running off in different directions, out of sight. This space elevator was not on the equator, and so therefore required metal tether lines, thousands of kilometers long. These had been attached to the tops of equatorial pylons. All elevators worldwide, at higher or lower latitudinal lines, were also attached to these and each other. They also served as tram-style transit for space vehicles travelling from station to elevator or ship to ship. The Earth was all tied up.

Shane saw the anchor cable connected the top of the elevator continuing off in a direction perpendicular to the Earth’s surface for as far as the eye could see.

One of the guards reminded them that they had somewhere to be. “Gentlemen.”

“Yes. Okay,” said Shane, still blinking at the window. They followed the guards down the

Tunnel, realizing that it was only a shuttle and it too was “connected” to the cable network. The interior was quite dark, except for tiny yellow lights along the floor. There waiting for them was a fifth guard.

“Have a seat,” he said.

“Where are Jeffery and co.?” asked Shane.

“On the Sapphire—it’s only five minutes. You can see it—it’s the one closest to us.” The guard pointed through the front window and there they were: five identical spaceships. “They’re pretty much the same except on the inside. The Sapphire is full of plants and bio-med stuff. You guys will be on that.”

“Wow,” said Shane in awe. “They’re beautiful like giant black eggs! Which is the front?”

“Both.”

“Huh?”

“They’re completely reversible. That’s how they stop. The actual mortet funnel inside concentrates all the axion power—the whole funnel—the engine, is flipped one-eighty degrees, to stop the ship.”

“Okay. Are you on that ship?” asked Shane.

“No. I’ll be on the Jade—two thousand Napeans,” said the space guard. “Already three hundred or so on that one.”

“What do they do?” asked Shane. “Mining, engineering…”

“Are they Napeans?”

“Yes,” said the guard. “Most of them are, I think…” He added, “Some of them are quite young. They imported a pile of Sub kids from South America—Bogota, and… Santiago, it was. Couldn’t speak Contro—I remember that!” he said, chuckling.

“And they’re all on the Jade?” clarified Shane. “The one on the far end.”

“What are the other ships called?” asked Charles.

“You got The Emerald, The Dark Crystal, The Jade, The Black Pearl, and yours is the Star Sapphire.”

“Why so many ships?” asked Charles.

“Apparently, that’s as big as you can go, structurally,” he said, gesturing toward the Sapphire, “at the speeds we’ll be reaching.”

“What’s that?” asked Shane.

“The universe has a speed limit of…” The guard scratched his head trying to recall the number.

“You can’t go much faster than… in the old language: one thousand million kilometers per hour.”

“Hell, is that all?” said Shane. They were both on information overload. “What’s that going to do to flesh and bone?”

“Put it this way,” said the guard. “You won’t feel a thing!”

Charles, unconcerned with this enigmatic answer, continued the line of questioning. “Do we have any control over the ship at that speed?”

“Minimal… in the first two months we have to be a little careful as to watching where we’re going—but after that we can give it some juice, because there’s no need to change course; there’s absolutely nothing out there. The only other problem will be stopping in the right place—in about four years’ time.”

Neither Shane nor Charles had realized they had docked. “Here we are!” said the guard. “Enjoy your meeting!”

The Space Station

THE SPACE STATION was made up of about a dozen different ports and more walkways, resulting in an expansive central area. Each Port had its own designated technical support and workshop areas and there was clearly a lot going on in these places. The central room however was comparatively quiet—a few guards sat watching an array of screens, keeping an eye on those working out in the vacuum. The Earth loomed big and blue through one set of windows. Shane tried to use his mental compass to get his bearings and realized, out here, there weren’t any.

Many of the interior walls were of a transparent material. As Shane and Charles were led down a walk way, Shane slowed almost to a stop several times, fascinated to see what was going on inside. Then looking ahead he saw that the walkway led straight to a large office, where three figures sat like members of a panel, left to right across a long, rectangular table. Their guard announced them at the door:

“Captains Wing and Crompton,” then: “Servicemen Pato, Jeffery and Magellan.” The officials looked like men in their twenties and watched Shane and Charles make their way across the floor. “Hello.” said Shane. The three remained seated so Shane and Charles simply sat at the two chairs provided. A guard stood at the left of the table, one just outside the door and another inside the room on the far wall. The three said nothing. Several of them nodded and exchanged looks as if making some silent assessment.

Shane started talking first, addressing the elephant in the room. “So here the three of you are, all… very different …that is very unusual.” Shane looked at Charles as if to say “Can you believe this?” They did not look Napean.

Magellan replied, “We’re sorry about the loss of your son…”

Straight to the point, thought Shane who had forgotten to be in mourning.

Jeffery took over: “We had to act… as you know that group of rebels were planning wholesale sabotage…” Jeffery had an annoying trait of trying to make eye contact with everyone while he was speaking. Rather than making him look sincere (which was the intention), it just made him look more like a clown with head swinging from side to side and eyes widening as they came to each person. Many Napeans, especially the older ones, had developed strange facial twitches—the existence of which they seemed unaware. Jeffery had the charismatic eye- flare, especially when listening.

Pato had a peculiar quirk of tilting his head back and allowing his mouth to gape right open as he listened to someone talk. But when he talked his head jutted forward. This he now did and added “there wasn’t enough time for us to clear the underground settlements… we couldn’t risk all this.” His arm swept in a wide arc.

Shane tried to pay attention to what Pato was saying but could only think: “That’s why they never wanted anyone to see them! They’re all different.” Jeffery had an apish look about him. His dark hair was trimmed to a bowl and he was of short and stocky build. Pato was slightly taller, with brown shoulder length hair, slightly built and bore an unfortunate smirk. His hands had a life of their own; each one in motion constantly enveloping the other. Both Service officials were dressed in brightly cultured “commander” suits—a style used in the Napean guard. Magellan, just as Shane expected seemed cut from a different cloth. Tall, rather terse looking, he wore an insulative, tight fitting dark space suit.

“I know what you must be thinking…” said Magellan. “Don’t worry, we are Napeans. We were among the first to trial N.E.T. We donated our bodies to our friend and colleague, Sydney Popper. We had the treatment in its early form.”

“Daily blood transfusions!” said Pato grinning.

“To business,” said Jeffery, eyeballing individually, everyone in the room. “Firstly Wing, I wanted to clarify, when you finally found the rebels: is it true they had your son?”

“They did.” said Shane

“Rather awkward?” asked Jeffery.

“Well it was… it was at that point I was captured. That was very awkward.”

“How did they access our files?” asked Pato.

“That information, I’m afraid, has gone to the grave with Wez Carter and his associates. It seems he hacked his way into the system and with their help was able to navigate his way around the network.”

“Clearly a genius.” Said Magellan. “Not anymore.” Answered Shane. “And Crompton…”

“Yes Sir,” said Charles sitting more upright.

“We must thank you for your part in all of this. We were reliant on you to make contact with Wing. Well done.”

“Thank you Sir.” said Charles.

“As you know,” continued Magellan, “we are planning an exodus requiring 300 plus elevator trips. We’ll be relying on you to ensure everything runs smoothly. It’s the culmination of many, many years of research and work. As you know, we have had to bring forward the departure date.”

“The final phase,” said Jeffery, fixing his most significant gaze, firstly on Shane, “the final phase of pioneer first fleet must be carried out with the utmost attention to security. Any

form of disruption must be immediately dispatched. Wing, we appreciate your efficiency in this area. We also want you to oversee the selection of the Subs. We need only five hundred. You will find the selection criteria fully outlined going to your Iris: then Service, Security, Astro. To ensure the utmost safety, we’re considering a mild narco-spray to calm the Subs prior to departure…”

“We don’t want any drama,” said Pato.

Magellan asked Shane, “Do you think that will be necessary?”

Shane took a deep breath before answering. “There will be fear and panic in the sub population about what you are going to do next—naturally. I wouldn’t be spraying anything on anyone… at all…”

“That’s the type of call we need you to make,” said Magellan. “The big picture—what we do—is determined by the Guardian Council. None of us are on that council but we report to them. All sixteen countries are undergoing this process. There’s a program we’re trying to… maintain—not to mention the other dead-line.”

“You mean the issue of the sun exploding again?” The three Service men found Shane’s dry sense of humor difficult to read.

Magellan was the first to catch on. “Yes, it’s going to get very hot…”

“Very quickly!” said Pato, not to be outdone.

“… For a number of reasons, we need to get these ships away before then,” said Magellan. “It’s security we need from you,” said Jeffery, “and not just the Subs’. Those left behind

will need strong leadership…”

“Left behind?” said Shane, looking sideways at Charles. “I… we didn’t plan on being left behind?”

“Oh, good heavens no!” said Jeffery.

“I think what he meant was that those left behind will need… monitoring… until we leave,” said Pato.

Shane paused before asking. “There won’t be a second fleet, will there?” His tone was flat. “No.” said Magellan. “The fact is we’re not a hundred percent sure…”

“It’s an engineering issue,” said Pato.

“Indeed, we will equip those remaining to continue the program …”

Jeffery was cut short as Shane asked, “How do you think they might feel being left behind, on a planet that is about to be burned.”

“I think burned is excessive,” qualified Jeffery.

“Both the city and the underground are protected and more than prepared,” clarified Pato. “Okay,” said Shane. “Okay... but the Napeans will need your reassurance—in person.” Jeffery hissed loudly, a large intake of air through his teeth demonstrating his discomfort, and said: “It’s our job to govern....”

“But people want to know who’s in charge. They know it’s not me. Us,” said Shane, indicating himself and Charles.

“Seeing us, physically, isn’t going to bring that stability,” said Jeffery, his eyes flaring. Pato shook his head vigorously. Jeffery was floundering. “What we can do is release information that…”

“… Relevant information,” added Pato.

“Yes, relevant information, which will help to allay any concerns that…”

“I’ll go down and deliver the information…” interrupted Magellan.   “No, no, no,” said Jeffery. “Too risky.”

“For who? You?” said Magellan.

“Me? The Napean people have no issue with me, but we don’t look like them and this is no time to be causing confusion, alarm.”

“It’s just not the right time,” echoed Pato.

No one said anything for a moment. Shane just shook his head slowly. It was Charles who finally spoke. “How long do we have, then?”

“Four weeks,” said Jeffery

“Actually, it’s three weeks and three days,” said Pato with a smirk.

The Last Refuge

ALIA, MADI, AND Ryan entered Greenhill transdome three. Madi and Alia had been there before but Ryan noticed it was a place quite different to those of Blackwood and Belair. The dome itself was practically the same—transparent high tensile silicon, one hundred and fifty meters in diameter, with solar rails radiating from the central column, top to bottom and concentrically around the whole structure. The central column, some fifteen meters in diameter, descended underground, dispersing light, power, and fresh air into the depths.

The real people of Greenhill survived in a state of shock and fear and wondered why they had lived, when so many of their friends and relations in other underground cities had not. Though they continued just as they had before, there was now a sense of guilt associated with the business of living.

It was into this subdued world that the three arrived, carrying the burden of their own misfortunes.

Inside the transdome, around the base, was a walkway some ten meters wide. This area could be used for different purposes but was generally kept free from encumbrance. Broad tiered steps ran down from the outer promenade and on these were located the front doors of some of the large public houses and meeting places which were cut back into the rock. Moving in towards the center of the dome, the place turned green. Water catchers were small leaved plants tightly contained in an outer mesh that could be fashioned into any shape. The entire plant was encapsulated in the mesh, a network of filaments capturing moisture and re-feeding it to the plant but still allowing sunlight to reach the leaves. Although Greenhill was tapped into the Lofty Mountain spring, water could also be collected from the catchment tanks at the base of these plants. Greenhill, Summertown, and Picadilly were the only transdomes to feature the beautiful water catchers; the other settlements had chosen mechanical means of water recycling.

Transdome 3 had four streets, and Ryan noticed the streets were bigger and the level of the ceiling was higher. Greenhill had been one of the first underground cities to be excavated so the scale of it was a little larger than the rest. A few people could be seen shopping; some drank in the bars, but on the whole the place was quiet. Just about everyone stared at them as they passed. No one said hello.

They walked around to street 4 and began the descent to Sylvana’s house.

“How do they play helix ball here?” asked Ryan. “The roof is way too high. You’d never reach the ball once it floated up there.”

When they came to the right number Alia quickly rapped on the door knocker and an older woman answered. She squinted at them in the underground twilight, finding it difficult to see. Alia stepped forward and offered a handshake. The woman reeled back in horror. “Please,” she cried in distress. “We don’t want any trouble!”

“It’s fine, Mum,” came a voice from down the passage.

“Sylvana!” called Alia. They embraced and Alia introduced Madi and Ryan.

“Not from round here, I see,” said the old woman. “How have they survived? I’m fifty years old, one of the eldest in Greenhill, and I didn’t make it this far to be associated with the likes of you.”

“Mum, don’t be so rude! Alia is an old friend of mine—they’re lucky to have escaped.”

“Who’s the odd-looking child?” continued Sylvana’s mother.

“He’s not odd-looking—he’s my son, and his name is Ryan. Ryan, be polite and say hello to the old bag…”

“Madi! Don’t make it worse!” said Alia through clenched teeth. Sylvana smiled. “Don’t worry. She’s deaf anyway…”

“I’m sorry,” said Madi, regaining her manners. “Ryan, say hello to…” Madi mouthed the words slowly to Sylvana’s mother. “Does the charming lady have a name?”

Ryan said, “She’s scared that the Napean guards will come and take her away.” Sylvana looked from Alia to Madi and back again, and then asked, “Where did that come from?”

“He does that a lot.” said Madi. “A little skill he learned from his dad.”

“Right,” said Sylvana, slowly nodding. “His dad the one who’s a…?”

“Ah, yeah,” said Alia, interrupting. “We have a lot to talk about.”

They adjourned to a spacious kitchen area where Sylvana pulled out a smorgasbord of pickled and preserved snacks and dried biscuits. The two ate and drank ravenously.

Sylvana’s mother again was thinking aloud. “What’s wrong with the boy? Not hungry, boy?” Ryan looked at Madi for guidance. She shrugged. Alia helped. “Ryan has been brought up a Napean. He can, but he doesn’t need to eat or drink.”

“Hot rocks in Hades!” exclaimed the old woman. “Why have you taken him? We can’t have the likes of him here. Take him back!”

“Here you go, Ryan,” said Sylvana, offering him some food. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry right now.”

“Okay, what about our home grown orange juice? It’s really sweet.” She poured him a glass. Ryan looked at Madi. “It’s nice!” she said.

He took a sip. The old lady seemed to have forgotten all about him and seemed to be staring at Alia. “She’s very tall,” said the old lady, nodding her head in Alia’s direction. “Sylvie!”

“Yes, Mum.”

“She’s very tall, isn’t she?”

“She’s very tall, Mum, yes.” Then the old lady screamed, pointing to Madi. “She’s covered in blood, Sylvie! Look, she’s bleeding!”

“It’s just a scratch,” said Madi. “I fell over…” Madi kept eating. “Mum, calm down,” said Sylvana

Alia spoke to Sylvana: “We found a whole lot of information about the Napean Peoples’ Service. The only reason this place wasn’t destroyed with the others, I think, is because they want… slaves. And it’s close to the elevator.”

“Really? What elevator?” asked Sylvana, and simultaneously her mother exclaimed: “How dare you! Slaves. We will do no such thing!”

“I agree!” said Alia, and then to Sylvana: “Okay, look, I’m sorry we seem to be touching nerves here. We can easily find somewhere else…”

“No. You’re staying here. Don’t worry about her. She survived the gas back in the sixties—fried her brain a bit. She’ll be fine once she gets used to you.”

The old lady hadn’t finished. “Where are they all staying?”

“Here with us, Mum.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” Sylvana smiled again. “You guys have got a big room at the bottom of the hallway. Go and relax. Get cleaned up. Madi, I’m coming down to fix you up.”

“You’re a doctor?”

“I’m trained as a nurse, so pretty much.”

As Ryan and Madi rested, Alia and Sylvana had a chance to talk.

“So no one survived?” asked Sylvana, pouring Alia a large glass of clear spirit. “Water?” Alia took a gulp of the liquid, and then exhaled, wide-eyed. “What flavor water is that?”

“Vodka. It’s an old recipe. Does Madi drink?” asked Sylvana.

“I believe so.”

Sylvana took a glass into her. She was lying back resting her ribs and watching some pirated recording of a Napean documentary about the Tokyo Napeans.

“Thanks!” said Madi.

Sylvana came back in with the glass, refilled it, and said, “She inhaled that—I’ll be right back.”

As she returned, Alia continued: “So yeah, I’m not sure how they did it so fuckin’ quietly… but they pretty much got everyone—gas. Stirling, Crafers, the whole lot… and…” Alia put her head in her hands. “It was our—my—fault. Forced them to act…”

“Hang on. You’re trying to save peoples’ children and fight back against years of… oppression. You’re a hero.”

“I’m an idiot. Hardly any of the children came back and now this is it! Greenhill’s all that’s left.” Sylvana refilled both glasses.

“And,” continued Alia, “I can’t seem to cry. I wish I could cry. But I can’t seem to let go it’s all just sitting here!” she gestured, putting all her fingertips on her right hand together and tapping her forehead.

“Ohhh…” Sylvana exhaled loudly, “well I’m glad you made it—we need you more than ever…  where were you guys when it happened?”

“Napea—that’s the only reason we’re here.”

“Everyone’s so scared that we’re next,” said Sylvana. “People are too scared to even leave home. We can’t hit back? Can we?”

Alia explained some of the bigger picture and the deceptions being played on the Napeans.

“Now we have a decision to make. Either we say nothing and possibly get a ticket out of here, or we talk.”

“Tell the truth?”

“Yes.”

“What’s so bad about the truth?” asked Sylvana.

“The threat of the telling the truth is why everyone from Piccadilly to Blackwood is now dead. If we do it again they might kill the rest of us,” said Alia.

“But why is the Service so scared of it?”

“Put it this way: in a best case scenario they’re only taking 500 Real people and only 10,000 Napeans from the entire local population. There is no second voyage. There will be no second voyage. The Service is planning on leaving most people behind.”

Sylvana was silent as she thought about the implications. “How can we even tell anyone about this?” asked Sylvana. “That’s true. The Service just shut down the system…”

“And no-body down here wants any trouble.”

“There must be some people down here who still want to fight back?” asked Alia. “There were but not now. Not after everything that’s happened. People are just

exhausted.”

It was Alia’s turn to be speechless.

“What does Shane, the guard think?” asked Sylvana “He wants to talk,” said Alia.

“Y’know everything I’ve heard about the guy makes me think he’s a total A-hole—but I actually think I agree with him.”

Alia’s jaw dropped a little. She had known Sylvana for as long as anyone and had a deep respect for her. She was plain looking woman though there was a relaxed intelligence about her, which manifested itself in a beautiful, casual humor. Things were always better with Sylvana around.

Sylvana continued: “Alia you’re an amazing woman but…”

“I’m an amazing woman… but!” Alia teased her.

Sylvana laughed. “Let me finish! You’re an amazing woman but, you can’t decide on behalf of the human race what should happen next!”

“Really? Why not?” they both smiled and sat staring at each other for a second. “Shane’s right,” said Sylvana. “Release the information.”

Later that night Ryan got up out of bed. “Mum’s still asleep,” he said to the two women who were still talking.

“It’s the middle of the night –you should be too. What’s up?” Asked Alia. “I spoke to dad.”

Sylvana frowned. “Is that safe?”

“Sort of,” said Alia “How’s your dad? Where is he?”

“He says hello. He’s still with Charles. The Service gave his job back. Says he can look after us now.