Tobias Buckell - Arctic Rising

“You’re a pilot, you will figure it out quickly enough.” She opened another drawer and handed Anika a phone. “But if you do have problems, call me. It’s the only number listed in the phone. It should work, I think, as long as you’re inside our headquarters. I’ll talk you through it. Now go,” she hissed.

Roo spun the ship’s wheel, and with a puff of pressurized air, the wood-paneled door rolled aside.

They walked through the small corridor, barely wider than their shoulders. At the end was a small moon pool. The blue water slapped against metal grating, and the ceiling overhead reflected blue rippled waves back at them.

The tower of a midget submarine broke the water, close enough to the grating that they could step into it and climb down the ladder. The front of the submarine was a large convex viewing bubble. The main body of it was a long cylindrical tube of metal, painted bright yellow. A cage of struts surrounded the cylinder, with equipment bolted onto it. Anika recognized none of it, though she assumed some of it was their air, some of it ballast.

“How simple does it look?” Roo asked as Anika settled into the cockpit and looked around at the unfamiliar panels and controls.

“Give me a minute,” Anika said. She grabbed a plastic handbook dangling from one of the joysticks on either arm of the chair.

Attitude, thrusters. She looked down. The pedals by her feet controlled the up and down vectoring of thrusters, oddly enough. Things were not laid out like a plane, but she could figure it out, as long as she kept thinking about what she was doing.

Paige had left a handbook with labeled steps. Power on, air scrubbers, pressurizing, and ballast.

Anika looked back. There was barely room in the bench seat behind her for Vy and Roo to squeeze together. This was really a personal submarine.

“Hatch closed?” Anika asked.

“Yep. I also untied us,” Vy said.

“Right.” Anika followed the steps on Paige’s handbook. Lights flickered on, including bright spotlights on the cage outside. They lit up the metal dock in front of them. Fans hummed inside, and relays clicked as different control mechanisms came online.

The next step startled her, as the sub blew a mist of air and leftover water out of its tanks, then a faint thrumming started as they filled.

They slowly sank away from the moon pool, falling into the dark blue of the deeper ocean. Anika set the small handbook aside after one last quick flip through, then grabbed the two joysticks and eased them forward.

Somewhere behind her, on the cage, propellors kicked into motion and thrust them forward.

When Anika glanced back up, she couldn’t see where they’d come from, just miles and miles of ice and upside-down mountains, the peaks descending down toward them.

They surfaced several miles from Thule’s docks, and Anika cut the power. They bobbed in place, half submerged, waves slapping at the top half of the craft and crashing over the structure.

Anika turned around and looked at Vy and Roo. “What are we going to do now?”

“Find that ship of hers and get the hell away,” Vy said, holding up the microchipped plastic case Paige had given them. “We have the keys to her ship.”

“No, about that, ” Anika said, pointing upward. From her half-submerged position in the cockpit’s bubble of glass, she could see the roiling silver sky.

“Leave it,” Vy said.

Roo leaned forward. “So far Ivan only threatened the blockade. He’s just asking to be allowed to deploy the device and … turn back years of disaster.”

“The people on that carrier died,” Anika said. “They had families and friends.”

“And how many millions are going to die as things get worse out there because we’re fumbling around with the world?” Roo said. “Worse weather. More heat. Higher oceans, more flooding out in South Asia. That’s millions of lives, Anika. Weigh those lives against those of a handful of soldiers, people doing their jobs who know it’s risky.”

“Like me?” Anika asked. “Or Tom? Casualties? Collateral damage?”

“ Gabriel ’s people shot you two down,” Vy said. “Not the company.”

“Does it matter?” Anika asked. “Ivan’s refusal to create the shield in a way that involved everyone got them crazy about this plan to nuke it. Secrecy, power, how is he any different than any other? That mess was what got me and Tom shot down as well. And it is not the way to go about it. He’s going to get many more people killed. And what if it escalates? One carrier has already been destroyed: what if the entire blockade attacks, and air forces are drawn in? Thule dies. What if the nations decide that it is okay if everyone knows they attacked with a nuclear weapon and Thule is destroyed by Russia, the U.S., and China for its super weapon? This has the potential to get much, much uglier. What’s your feeling then, Roo? Still worth it?”

“Versus the tens of millions that pay the price of losing their coastlines, dying in floods, dying from crop failures? What am I supposed to say to that?” Roo snapped. “Predict how many might die in this exchange compared to how many we know will continue dying? You’re thinking you’ll be able to get back through Gaia Security, and what? Fire that missile on your own? No. You can’t. You can’t finish what Gabriel started. And Gaia has the rest of the team that was going to launch the missile locked away. There is nothing you can do, Anika. Let it go.”

“God damn it, Roo.” Anika turned back to the controls.

Vy reached forward and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Anika. I see your points. Seeing Thule torn apart like this is horrific. Everyone’s lives get turned upside down if the Arctic goes back. But I think Roo is right.”

Anika didn’t say anything, or even acknowledge Vy. After a moment Vy let go of Anika’s shoulder and folded her arms. She seemed to get lost in thought as Anika stared ahead and piloted the sub toward the harbor.

Anika threaded them around the giant wind turbines that powered the harbor, and got them close enough to a dock. They’d called ahead and warned the harbormaster, worried that there were mines or something protecting the harbor.

Vy jumped to the dock, slid on some ice, and then caught herself. She tied the sub off as Roo got out and helped her.

Anika clambered out and took a deep breath of cold, fresh air.

“It doesn’t just go away, Roo,” Vy said softly as they both crouched over a large cleat. It sounded like she didn’t want to say that, as she stuttered. She hadn’t stopped mulling over their argument in the sub about what to do next, apparently.

“What you mean?”

Anika glanced across the water at them.

Vy twisted to face Roo. “I’ve been thinking: technology doesn’t just go away. It never has. You can slow its growth, you can try and stop it. But once it’s made, it escapes. Some places have slid, some countries have locked it down, like Japan and guns, or North Korea. But worldwide, once it’s out, it’s out, right? Technology just doesn’t go away.”

Anika hopped onto the dock. She saw exactly where Vy was going with this. They had to make Roo see it, too, before he walked off down the dock. “Vy’s right,” Anika said. “Roo, someone else will make more of these spheres. Someone with a desktop fabrication printer. Maybe millions of people. Or someone with a small factory in their garage. There are enough spheres floating around; someone will pick them up. Or leak the instructions online. Or just imitate the result. This can’t die.”

Vy smiled. “The question is control.”

“I’m not saying the shield isn’t necessary, Roo. The shield is, something is. The question is, who controls the shield? Do we make a choice, or do we have it forced on us by one single person. One of the reasons geo-engineering sucks for solving these issues is that whoever controls the project has this … huge fucking end-of-the-world James Bond villain-device thing. It’s as much a military problem. Who voted on this? Who got to decide? Yeah, there are too many people—what’s better, killing off a bunch of them or building better farm techniques and density? Who gets to decide? I fucking prefer democracy to one person with a vision. Because sometimes you’re safe in that person’s vision, and sometimes you’re an acceptable casualty. Get it? Who do you want in charge of that thing: an aging old rich dude who’s convinced the ends justify the means? Or some other solution, maybe even something like one of the government systems here in Thule?”