survivors whom the Authority had contacted on other
alternates, such as Tony Nuyakpuk. The Authority staff, by contrast, tended to keep clear of the place. I had a feeling, based on what I’d heard and seen, that they were under orders not to
fraternize with us. Maybe their bosses were afraid they’d let something slip about the Authority after a couple of drinks.
On that particular day, however, the bar had been deserted, apart from one man who turned out to be Tony Nuyakpuk’s cousin. Jim Nuyakpuk’s job, it seemed, was to cook and clean as
well as tend the bar – although it was clear from his conversation with the other two that he sometimes went on missions himself.
‘We give the Authority ten years’ service,’ Yuichi explained as we sat down, his hands cradling an Irish coffee made for him by the Inuit barman. ‘Then they let us go
retire to some nice, safe alternate – some place just like where we all came from, but whole and unharmed. That’s the other reason we’re as happy to do whatever they ask us as we
are.’
‘
Exactly
like where we came from?’ I asked.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Nadia had said. ‘No,
nearly
the same, but not identical.’ She cocked her head at me. ‘You were married, right?
Don’t get your hopes up about finding her, if that’s what you were thinking. Even if there was some version of your wife out there, chances are she’s not the same person you knew.
She might be married to someone else – if not to some other version of you – or have never met you. Or maybe that version of her got killed in a car crash, or her life worked out
completely differently so she’s a stranger.’ She shook her head. ‘When we retire, we don’t literally go home – that’s impossible. But some place that’s
hospitable, and close enough to being like home to fit, where you don’t live in fear or have to risk your life on a daily basis.’ She shrugged. ‘That’s where you get to
go.’
‘And how long have you got left before you retire?’ I asked her.
‘Four years,’ she said, without hesitation.
I looked at Yuichi. ‘Five,’ he replied.
‘And how many Pathfinders have retired so far?’
They glanced at each other. ‘Well, none, actually,’ said Yuichi. ‘None of us has been working for the Authority long enough to actually retire.’
I looked ahead. It was, indeed, getting brighter. ‘What’s causing it?’ I asked, with no little alarm.
By now we had covered most of the distance across the first vault. The ceiling rose up for perhaps fifteen metres, while all around us stood the empty ruins of buildings constructed within the
vault. I had seen maps of the complex’s many levels, and the sheer audacity of the project was breathtaking. They had had room enough down here for a hundred thousand people, nearly all of
whom had worked in some capacity towards the construction of the Retreat. There were farms, breeding pens for animals, schools and houses and acres of laboratories. Here, refugee scientists had set
up shop so they could help the Icelanders improve and expand their shelter deep beneath the frozen ground. Some of them had been working on creating genetically engineered microscopic flora to
manufacture the oxygen they needed to breathe in bulk, down here in the lightless depths.
Nadia tapped with one gloved hand at a dashboard screen and it sprang to life, displaying the view to the rear of our EV. It showed a torrent of white fire gushing through a rent in the wall
that hadn’t been there just seconds before.
‘Oh shit,’ she said under her breath. ‘Is that lava?’
I stared at the image, my lips numb even as the glow intensified. It was bright enough now that I could make out street signs as we passed them.
‘How do we get back out?’ I asked, staring in horror at the molten rock flooding across our escape route.
‘We don’t,’ said Nadia, tight lipped and as white as a sheet. ‘Not that way, at
alternates, such as Tony Nuyakpuk. The Authority staff, by contrast, tended to keep clear of the place. I had a feeling, based on what I’d heard and seen, that they were under orders not to
fraternize with us. Maybe their bosses were afraid they’d let something slip about the Authority after a couple of drinks.
On that particular day, however, the bar had been deserted, apart from one man who turned out to be Tony Nuyakpuk’s cousin. Jim Nuyakpuk’s job, it seemed, was to cook and clean as
well as tend the bar – although it was clear from his conversation with the other two that he sometimes went on missions himself.
‘We give the Authority ten years’ service,’ Yuichi explained as we sat down, his hands cradling an Irish coffee made for him by the Inuit barman. ‘Then they let us go
retire to some nice, safe alternate – some place just like where we all came from, but whole and unharmed. That’s the other reason we’re as happy to do whatever they ask us as we
are.’
‘
Exactly
like where we came from?’ I asked.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Nadia had said. ‘No,
nearly
the same, but not identical.’ She cocked her head at me. ‘You were married, right?
Don’t get your hopes up about finding her, if that’s what you were thinking. Even if there was some version of your wife out there, chances are she’s not the same person you knew.
She might be married to someone else – if not to some other version of you – or have never met you. Or maybe that version of her got killed in a car crash, or her life worked out
completely differently so she’s a stranger.’ She shook her head. ‘When we retire, we don’t literally go home – that’s impossible. But some place that’s
hospitable, and close enough to being like home to fit, where you don’t live in fear or have to risk your life on a daily basis.’ She shrugged. ‘That’s where you get to
go.’
‘And how long have you got left before you retire?’ I asked her.
‘Four years,’ she said, without hesitation.
I looked at Yuichi. ‘Five,’ he replied.
‘And how many Pathfinders have retired so far?’
They glanced at each other. ‘Well, none, actually,’ said Yuichi. ‘None of us has been working for the Authority long enough to actually retire.’
I looked ahead. It was, indeed, getting brighter. ‘What’s causing it?’ I asked, with no little alarm.
By now we had covered most of the distance across the first vault. The ceiling rose up for perhaps fifteen metres, while all around us stood the empty ruins of buildings constructed within the
vault. I had seen maps of the complex’s many levels, and the sheer audacity of the project was breathtaking. They had had room enough down here for a hundred thousand people, nearly all of
whom had worked in some capacity towards the construction of the Retreat. There were farms, breeding pens for animals, schools and houses and acres of laboratories. Here, refugee scientists had set
up shop so they could help the Icelanders improve and expand their shelter deep beneath the frozen ground. Some of them had been working on creating genetically engineered microscopic flora to
manufacture the oxygen they needed to breathe in bulk, down here in the lightless depths.
Nadia tapped with one gloved hand at a dashboard screen and it sprang to life, displaying the view to the rear of our EV. It showed a torrent of white fire gushing through a rent in the wall
that hadn’t been there just seconds before.
‘Oh shit,’ she said under her breath. ‘Is that lava?’
I stared at the image, my lips numb even as the glow intensified. It was bright enough now that I could make out street signs as we passed them.
‘How do we get back out?’ I asked, staring in horror at the molten rock flooding across our escape route.
‘We don’t,’ said Nadia, tight lipped and as white as a sheet. ‘Not that way, at
Similar Books
