Hamlet - Thanks for the kind review (it's actually one of the kindest reviews I think I've received). I'm glad you like this story so far, and I hope you enjoy the rest too.
Life inside the Utopiadome over the next few years was both exciting and stressful. Each day, the same routine took place: get up, have breakfast, divide the group between monitoring the radiation levels or anything else that was happening outside and making sure the machinery around the Utopiadome was working, lunch, swap the routines around, dinner, rest, discussions, supper, then bed. It got repetitive very quickly, but nobody argued because they all knew their survival was the most important factor. The only times the routine would change would be if it was someone's birthday or Christmas, but even then there wasn't too much change to the routine. The crew members all made friends with each other, but there was always a feeling of dread that something would go disastrously wrong. They had just barely made their way through the long tunnel from the surface to the cave and into the Utopiadome when they felt the blast from the surface. The Utopiadome survived the impact, but the communication devices used to contact other Utopiadomes had been damaged, and the only way to fix them was by going outside, which was out of the question. Nevertheless, the crew were all excited about finding out what the world would look like after their stay inside the Utopiadome was complete, and they all discussed their different thoughts about what they thought would await them outside.
The inside of the Utopiadome consisted of several rooms, the main control area being the biggest and the one where the crew spent most of their time. One wall consisted of a vast number of monitors and computers which the crew would use to keep track of the date and time, radiation levels and geography of the outside world. In the centre of the room were some chairs, covered with a red material and arranged in a circle, and next to it was a blue circular table with chairs around it. Another wall consisted of shelves which were stacked with boxes containing books and reels of film of what the outside world once looked like. The Utopiadome had been designed so that nothing inside that wasn't flesh and bone would decompose or degrade as long as the door to the outside was shut. This way, the books and reels of film would survive through the long wait and would be used when mankind repopulated the Earth in order to carry the knowledge they had already acquired to the next generation of mankind.
One of the other rooms housed the sleeping quarters for the crew, and another room connected to it led to a bathroom. There was also a room filled with plants that grew under artificial sunlight and water that would sprayed through the room like a mist and then recycled; this was where the crew got their food and water from. Each Utopiadome also had a room that housed a collection of metallic pods in the shape of coffins, but these pods weren't intended for placing the dead in; they were to be used for placing the people in suspended animation for long periods of time until the radiation levels outside had settled.
Gregory Clarke was inside the pod room of the Utopiadome, kneeling down beside one of the pods and reaching inside it while trying to peer inside to see what he was doing. Beside him on the floor was a large toolbox. Although the crew took part in monitoring the outside world and the mechanics of the Utopiadome, each crew member had a specific secondary job. Gregory was the specialist technician and his eyes were focussed entirely on the machinery in front of him, rarely blinking. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head. He let his right hand fall to the floor, making the tool in his hand clink as it made contact with the surface of the floor, and he rubbed his forehead with his other hand.
Something had gone terribly wrong. After the first few years of working, the crew had been scheduled to place themselves into the pods for a hundred years; they would then emerge and monitor the outside levels again to see how much the radiation had dropped. Then they would place themselves back into suspended animation again for another hundred years and repeat this process until it was safe to leave the Utopiadome and head back to the surface. However, as they had prepared to place themselves into suspended animation for the first time, the crew noticed puddles on the floor next to the pods. Fearing an electrical hazard, Captain Grant ordered everyone to wait in the main control area while Gregory investigated what was happening. Much to his surprise, he had made a horrifying discovery…
"Any progress?"
Gregory turned at the voice – a female voice. Approaching him was Captain Grant. Through the door were the rest of the crew, anxiously watching and waiting for any news.
"Captain, I've got some bad news."
Gregory reached into the insides of the pod and took out a small piece of machinery. There was a clear liquid dripping from it.
"You see this liquid?" Gregory asked. "That's the preserving fluid that gets used in the pods to put us into suspended animation. The tanks containing it have ruptured and the fluid has leaked out. It's damaged the engines and mechanical bodies, and that's what these puddles on the floor is. Even if I manage to repair the engines, the pods would be useless without the fluid because that's what places the user into suspended animation as well as stop the pods from overheating, and we can't just reuse the fluid that's leaked because it gets contaminated and loses its properties if it's exposed to air for too long."
Captain Grant put a hand to her head as she stared at the puddles all through the room. "I can't believe it…"
"There was concern when these were being developed that this could happen. All the strongest materials used for this sort of thing were used to build the war defences and the Utopiadomes. The pods were built with all that was left, which was…well…the scraps, for the most part."
"Of course…" Captain Grant realised. "I remember now when the pods were first developed, they said there was a chance they could fail…but for it to happen on this scale…" Her voice rose a little in frustration as she stepped back towards the other crew members. "I said at that meeting that all Utopiadomes should carry spare preserving fluid in case this happened, but my request was refused. How could they be so blind?" She turned back to Gregory and approached him. "How many pods are still active and working?"
"Only one," he answered. "The rest of the pods all have the same problem except for that one." He pointed at one of the pods near the back of the room.
"I see…" Captain Grant said.
"What should we do?" asked one of the crew. "We can't call for help. We're stranded and helpless."
Captain Grant stared at the floor. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach. The Utopia Project was turning into a disaster, at least for the people in this Utopiadome. Their worst fears had been realised: they would be spending the rest of their lives trapped below the desolate Earth with no chance of seeing what would become of it. Only one pod was working.
"Are you absolutely certain there's nothing we can do to fix the other pods?" she asked the technician.
"Absolutely, Captain."
Captain Grant walked slowly away. All eyes were on her as she stepped out into the main room.
Finally she spoke. "Then there's only one thing we can do now…"
Captain Grant made her way over to the table. On the table was a collection of drinking cups, each one belonging to a particular crew member. Each cup had a lid with a white straw inserted through it. Captain Grant took out each of the straws and placed them down on the table in a small bundle.
"We draw straws," she said.
The crew began to mutter amongst themselves. Had she gone mad?
"You can't be serious, Captain!" cried a voice.
"I'm being completely serious here," she replied. She took a red pen from her pocket and drew around the tip of one of the straws.
"Here's how this will work: we all close our eyes and take a straw. Whoever has the straw with the red tip in the end gets to use the pod, and whoever it is must be put in suspended animation straight away. The pod will be set so that it won't open until someone manually switches it off rather than have it automatically open after a century. The rest of the pods, we will use as coffins; if the rest of us are going to die in here, I don't want us to turn into savages. Have I made myself clear?"
The crew exchanged some looks, and after a moment they nodded. Captain Grant picked up the straws with one hand and turned to face her crew. Unbeknownst to the crew, one plain straw remained on the table behind her.
"Everybody, close your eyes."
The crew, Captain Grant included, did as she said and closed their eyes. She held the straws out in front of her, the tips hidden in her fist so no-one could cheat and see which straw's tip was red.
"Now take a straw."
Captain Grant felt the straws move around in her hand, and the amount she was holding quickly decreased until there were none left. She opened her eyes and swiftly but quietly reached behind her to pick up the plain straw and held it out in front of her.
"Everybody, open your eyes."
The crew obeyed and looked at the straws they each held in their hands.
"Who has the straw with the red tip?" asked an unfazed Captain Grant.
There was silence at first as the crew peered into each others' hands.
Suddenly, a voice. "Him. He has it."
"Who?" asked the captain.
"Stephen."
Everyone looked to see for themselves. All the eyes were now on the man in question. He was standing completely still and was staring down at the straw in his hand.
"Looks like it's you who gets to use the pod, mate," congratulated one of the crew members as he patted the man on the shoulder. "You must be excited."
Stephen Davies continued to gaze solemnly at the straw he held in his fingers. He didn't know whether to feel elated or heartbroken.
"I…Well…" was all he could say.
"There isn't time for congratulations," Captain Grant said. She turned to Stephen. "Stephen, you have won the opportunity to see what becomes of the planet. You know what you have to do now."
"But –"
"No buts," Captain Grant ordered. She and the crew led Stephen towards the pod room. "We have to do this quickly."
"Wait!" Stephen yelled. "Can I speak with you for a moment, Captain?"
Captain Grant looked back to the others for a second. "Okay, but be quick."
She took Stephen into the pod room and spoke to the crew. "I'll not be a minute," she said. The crew nodded in response, and Captain Grant closed the door, sealing her and Stephen off from the others.
"What's wrong?" asked Captain Grant. She sounded irritated, like she was in a hurry, but there was some genuine concern in her voice.
Stephen looked at the floor. "It's just…everything's happening so quickly. The moment I picked the straw, I was taken here. I mean, I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye to anyone."
Captain Grant was silent for a moment. "To be honest, the reason I wanted to get whoever won into the pod quickly was so that they wouldn't be as emotional as they would be if it was a long farewell. I know how much it hurts to know you won't see your friends again – we all do – and I just thought whoever was selected would've wanted it over and done with like that. Do you see where I'm coming from?"
"I suppose…" Stephen trailed off.
There was a pause.
"So…" said Stephen, "what do you plan on doing for the rest of your stay in here?"
"Just the same as before," Captain Grant replied, "monitoring the outside radiation levels…and hoping…" She chuckled. "Enough about me. You're lucky; you'll live to see what the new world will look like."
"But I don't see what good I would be for the new world," Stephen responded. "Captain, can't you take my place? You'd be better in developing the new world than me."
"But I have a crew to look after here and I'm not going to desert them just for my own survival. Besides…" Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. "…I rigged the straws so that I wouldn't win."
Stephen gasped. "You sacrificed your only chance of winning?" he asked, dumbfounded. "Why?"
Captain Grant's tone darkened. "I don't deserve it. Our world has been torn apart, destroyed. You know I was an important figurehead on our side in the war. All the soldiers I've sent to their deaths, all the people I've helped slaughter…" For a second it looked like she was about to cry from the painful memories she was bringing up, but she kept her composure.
"I'm a war criminal, Stephen, as guilty as the leaders we were fighting against. You all may know me as a kind and respectable captain, but I have blood on my hands and I feel like I've let down not only you, but our entire race because I helped create its destruction. None of my crew here are guilty of such things, including you. That's why I rigged it: so whoever won would be a good person who wouldn't be capable of repeating such atrocities."
Stephen was taken aback at Captain Grant's words. "But…but what if none of the other Utopiadomes succeed? I might wake up only to find a world in ruin or a world where I'm the only living thing left. Heck, you said I could only wake up again if somebody else opened the pod. What if nobody comes for me? …I'm frightened, Captain."
Captain Grant put her hands firmly on Stephen's shoulders. "Stephen, listen to me. You will go in that pod and I promise you will wake up in a world of paradise, free from our destruction. That's an offer you'd be mad not to accept. Okay?" she asked gently.
Before Stephen could reply, Captain Grant opened the door and leaned out. "Gregory, could you help me place Stephen in suspended animation?"
"Yes, Captain."
As the technician stepped into the room, Captain Grant slowly led Stephen towards the pod.
"Gregory…could I also ask you to shut the door?"
"Of course, Captain," Gregory replied. He pressed the button on the wall and the door sealed shut.
Stephen approached the pod uncertainly. As he climbed in, he started thinking that the pod and the Utopiadome were going to be his tomb for the next however-many years. Captain Grant sensed this as Stephen lay down inside the pod and looked up at her.
"I know this goes against my orders," said Captain Grant softly, "but if you want, we can let you out of there once every month or so; you know, to keep you company and let you know of our progress."
Stephen shook his head. "No," he said, "I don't want to see you all growing older and older in front of my eyes, especially in what would only feel like a few seconds to me."
"I understand," said Captain Grant. Gregory approached the pod and knelt down to the level of the control panel on the side of the pod.
"All set, Captain?" asked Gregory.
"I think so," replied Captain Grant. She turned to Stephen. "Are you ready?"
"Yes…" Stephen bolted upright. "No! Wait…Give me a moment…" He covered his eyes with one hand and breathed deeply. After a moment, he lay back down. "Right, I'm ready."
Captain Grant put a hand on the pod lid and lowered it shut, restricting Stephen to a lying-down position. Now Stephen was concealed inside the pod, the small window on the lid being the only source of light. The window was positioned above his head, and he could see a small section of the ceiling through it. Although Stephen couldn't see Captain Grant or Gregory, he knew they were getting the pod to work.
A few seconds passed, but each second felt like an hour. Stephen couldn't hear anything other than the sound of his own breathing, which sounded louder than it usually did due to the closed space he was in. Suddenly, the sound of a machine whirring underneath him interrupted the silence. After a moment, thick steam began to billow into the pod and circulate around the inside. The steam crept closer and closer towards Stephen's head until he was breathing it in. The window began to mist up.
Stephen's eyelids suddenly felt extremely heavy, but he tried to fight against the potentially-eternal sleep that was going to take him, just for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak.
"…Good-…goodb-…"
But he couldn't complete his farewell. His energy was fast leaving him, and the mere act of speaking was too much an effort. Besides, he doubted the others would be able to hear him mumbling. A green light began to glow behind him. This was it – a few seconds now and he would be suspended in time.
What to think? What to think?
As the heavy feeling swept over him, Stephen forced as many pleasant memories to play in his mind as he could before his eyes would close. Images of people he once knew appeared before him: his parents, his grandparents, the young lady he was about to propose to before the war – all of them now dead.
There was no turning back now, and Stephen allowed himself to drift off. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was the faint light shining through the window, obscured by the heavy steam.
And then there was darkness…
Well folks, we're one chapter closer to actually getting to Mossflower. Originally this was going to be the first chapter, but after writing it I thought it started the story too abruptly, so I wrote the previous chapter and then rewrote parts of this one before I uploaded anything.