Arctic Rising

38

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?”

Roo held up a palm. “You crazy,” he said.

But Anika pressed him. “We can save lives, Roo. And you know it. You have the contacts. Who else besides us can make this happen, right now?”

“We need the nuclear missile. And we’d need the military to turn Gabriel back over to us. Even harder: we need to convince Gabriel to help us. And I’m thinking, after what the three of us did back there, he won’t be interested in that, yeah?”

“He’ll help,” Anika said forcefully. He needed to set that missile off, even if meant working with the three of them.

“We’ll need to convince people to risk an attack on the missile, when Ivan all but owns the sky,” Roo continued.

“And when we attack,” Vy added, “Ivan will try to evaporate us.”

Anika hadn’t thought about that. She swallowed and looked forward. “I’ll go alone,” she said. “Give me Gabriel, other military volunteers. I can’t ask you two to do this, just to help me get ready.”

“Oh bullshit!” Vy said. “I don’t like this idea. I think we’re going to get ourselves killed. But damnit, Anika, I’m coming with you. There’s no way you’re doing this by yourself. Roo?”

Roo let out a deep breath that hung in the air between them all. “You asking a lot, Vy. Joining you two on a suicide mission…”

The silver cloud overhead flashed, light rippling through it, bouncing around, getting redirected, and a beam stabbed out of the sky into the distant ocean.

Anika flinched, and she saw Roo do the same.

“There are people dying, Roo. Right now. Out there over the curve of the horizon.”

The beam of light abruptly sputtered, split into several different beams that wandered aimlessly around, then fizzled.

“Paige is trying to blunt him,” she said. “But it’s only going to get worse.”

Roo was shielding his eyes with a hand and looking up at the silver sky.

“Fuck,” he said. “Fuck y’all. Fuck duty.” His shoulders slumped and Vy started chuckling.

“Who ever thought we’d be working together helping those guys,” Vy said, pointing out toward the blockade.

“You a Southern girl. Always had that flag-waving thing in you,” Roo said as he pulled a phone out of his jacket and pointed at Anika. “We see what we can assemble. We reach out to whoever running the blockade, coordinate with them. We do this correct and official, right?”

“Correct and official,” Anika agreed, as the lightning danced around the artificial clouds overhead.