The Bridge: A Science Fiction Survival Story

Chapter 56

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The hallway was nearly empty when she kicked through the door, an oval portion of it just a few inches shorter than her falling forward with a ringing clang as it struck the floor, skidding forward under its own momentum until it rammed against the opposite wall. Only one set of eyes watched her as she stepped outwards, the Omni-cutter still emitting its white arc, her suit still covering every inch of her body. Behind her, there was a click and the door swung open, the lock releasing as reverberations from the falling metal shook it loose. And though the window bulged out slightly more than usual, the tape, mesh, and putty combination held. Hopefully, for at least a few more hours – that was all she needed.

Across the hall, the lone figure stared as she reached a hand around to release the clasp that held her helmet in place, shaking her hair out as she set it on the floor. His eyes widened as he recognized her, then widened further as they looked past her to the hole in the window, then to the other end of the ship, and coming to rest on the Omni-cutter just as she shut it off.

"Hello, Tom," she said, standing atop the fallen door to be only a head shorter than him. "Ready to save Horatius again?"

"Of course," his lumbering voice responded, a slow smile uplifting the words. "But what is that? Stun gun?"

He pointed towards the Omni-cutter, and Airomem raised it upwards for him to get a closer look.

"Just as you are the strongest man on this side of the ship, this is now the sharpest knife. There is little, if anything, it cannot cut."

Tom reached a hand forward, his eyes sparkling, but Airomem retracted her arm, speaking, "And because it is the sharpest, it's also the most dangerous. It should only be used when absolutely necessary, and I fear now is one of those times. Do you know where Ruth is, Tom? Can you take me to her?"

"Her, yes. Horatius, no."

"Then let's start moving," said Airomem, following Tom as he began to walk towards the exit of the corridor. "I fear our time already runs short. And if we are to depart, we must make haste."

"Depart?" asked Tom, and Airomem gestured back to towards the window.

"To our new home, Tom. To the planet that you see out there, the purpose of our long journey."

"But this Tom's home," he answered, confusion crossing his face. "Here, the ship."

"Your old home, Tom. This one is falling apart, but the one that we are going to, that one is full of life and promise."

Then they broke out of the corridor and into the farmland beyond, the overhead lights significantly dimmer than just a few days before, the soil harder under her feet from lack of maintenance. At the far edge, a crowd milled, clustered around the entrance to another corridor, their voices melding together into a buzz by the time they reached her ears. And from the tip of the crowd, just beneath the doorframe, she could see the glint of knives behind a barricade of furniture.

Halfway across the fields, she heard a scream that differentiated itself from the crowd, one that emanated from a small figure that rushed across the earth towards her, her haste so great that flecks of soil flew into the air behind her.

"Airomem!" shouted Ruth, barreling into her. "I knew you'd come! I knew it! There, in that corridor, they have my mother and Horatius! We have to save them!"

Behind Ruth, the crowd began to turn around, the words stopping in their throats as their eyes traveled from her face to her suit. Awe took hold of them in a wave, young and old, big and small, literate and illiterate. Ruth let go of Airomem and moved to her right, while Tom stood at her left, their heights forming a downward slant.

And when the silence was so thick that it felt impossible to breach, Airomem bent down and gathered a handful of soil from the ground at her feet and held it high in the air, allowing a trickle of it to pass through her fingers like water.

"One thousand years ago!" she shouted as the dirt fell. "One thousand years ago, our ancestors departed upon a journey for new life! A journey that took them far from what they called home in search for another. And today, we embark on a similar journey."

She took a step forward towards the crowd and gathered another handful of soil.

"Today, we complete our voyage among the stars! We remember that this is but a step along our path, that the ship itself is not a destination but a bridge into the future of us all. To the planet you see outside the windows, a place where the lights shall never dim, where the plants shall grow, and the water plentiful. Where all shall be fed, and none greater than their neighbor. And we shall bring the dirt our ancestors left us, our only true piece of their home that we have left, and mix it with the soil we find ahead. As a remembrance of the past, the seeds that shall grow the future."

Then she let the handful of dirt fall in front of her, the clump thudding against the edge of a shovel and spreading out in all directions.

"I will not force you to follow me. I give you the option to choose, but I warn you, just as a plant with no water withers and dies, so too will this ship. Already you have seen the signs that all is not as it once was, that you no longer can do what you have always done and survive. So I charge you this: wait here for death or spring forward for life! And I, Airomem, your chief and your equal, shall lead you there!"

The clapping started in the back, closest to the barricaded entrance, Elliott's hands coming together in short powerful strokes where he stood. Dozens of others joined in, a small peppering interspersed in the masses, but with heart.

But then the jeers started from those who had been listening behind the barricade, and the crowd erupted in response, their faces red as they shouted and hands moving in a flurry of motion, the thunderous applause drowning out all other sound.

Airomem brushed the earth from her hands as she walked towards them, glimpsing the planet through a window in the corner of her eye as she did so, and whispering in a voice that stood no chance against the roar.

"To dust we shall return."