A/N
So I saw the trailer for The Way of Water. I give it a 7/10. Had too much water in it.
Still, drabbled this up, so there's that, I guess. 0_0
Tears in the Sea
Beneath the surface, she was at peace.
One minute.
Down, in the depths of the Epimetheus Sea. Pandora's largest ocean. Arguably the equivalent of Earth's Pacific, the fact that this sea still held life notwithstanding.
There was scuba gear onboard the Challenger, and she had used it more times than she could count, in more expeditions than she could report on. But here, now, her breath was her own. Her eyes were clear. The light of Alpha Centauri A danced in the water, piercing the tropical depths.
Most of the time, this close to one of the sea's countless atolls, she could see fish. Not in a literal sense, but certainly in a practical sense. Creatures that had evolved in Pandora's oceans billions of years ago. Whose ancestors had crawled onto the land. Not fish in a taxonomic sense, their DNA completely different, but still occupants of the same niche. Alive and well, in seas that weren't dead.
But today, nothing. Except…
Two minutes.
She saw it. The Great Grey. Called a "tulkun" by the na'vi. The largest aquatic animal that existed in Pandora's oceans. Bigger half as much again as Earth's Great Blues, before they had all suffocated in Earth's acidic oceans. Their size and mass only possible through the water supporting their weight, and the moon's low gravity.
Pandora had a way of making you feel small. Here, in size, if not in power, humans were naught but children. And in many ways, as ignorant as them.
She swum down towards the creature. It was unclear exactly what the Greys fed on (the most popular theory was that they fed on some Pandoran equivalent of krill), but whatever it was, it wasn't meat. In theory, she was safe. She could, in theory, swim to the Grey, and never be in any danger.
There was a lot of things she could do in theory. That didn't make them achievable.
She swam ever downwards, her head pounding, her lungs bursting. Reaching for the Grey. Willing it to come toward her.
Instead, it just kept drifting through the water. Uncaring of her presence. Or, she reflected, perhaps fearful. As if it already knew the species that was approaching it, and the danger the alien invaders of Pandora represented.
But she swam, she reached, and-
Three minutes.
Something buzzed in her ear. She was being called up to the Challenger. And even if she wasn't, she knew she couldn't remain in the water for long. The world record for breath holding was thirty minutes, sixteen seconds. She, however, could barely manage three.
In the sea, she could dream. But in the end, you always had to wake up.
With one last, lamenting look at the magnificent creature below her, she began to swim to the surface. Pushing with her legs, letting buoyancy do as much work as her body. Even with the weight of two worlds on her shoulders, she could still float.
Upwards. Ever upwards. Towards the sun, ever brighter. Towards the surface, ever clearer. To the sky, ever bluer. Even closer to the great dark beyond, where dreams died.
You didn't dream in cryo. Even if you surrounded by water.
Four minutes.
Her ears were pounding. Her lungs were bursting. But the sea's tip, at last, was breached. And with a splash, she returned to the surface, gasping for breath.
Oxygen filled her lungs, as did everything from hydrogen sulphide to xenon. In the short term, the former was more valuable. Technically speaking, Pandora's atmosphere was suitable for humans for the most part (primarily oxygen-nitrogen), but the prevalence of H2S, CO2, and Xe, meant that the air was still lethal. Go into the air without an exopack, you were unconscious in one twenty seconds, and dead in four minutes.
But in those brief seconds, she was at peace. She could breathe. Breathe air clearer and cleaner than any base or starship, let alone Earth. It was only as the seconds passed, as she reached for her exopack, that she began to sense something was wrong.
Where is it?
She'd left it on the surface, tethered to the Challenger. Squinting through her stinging eyes, she could see the ship's hull beside her, but no sign of the pack. It had gone from the water.
Where is it?!
She began to cough, as the toxic air filled her lungs. Her head was pounding, and not from being underwater too long. Desperately, holding her breath once more, she looked up at the deck. It was only three metres above the water, and she could easily climb up using the ladder, but-
"Trouble, doctor?"
…shit.
She could see the woman in the uniform above her.
"Think you lost this."
The woman who was holding her exopack.
"Should really be more careful, you know."
Struggling to breathe, she managed a nod.
I'm going to kill you one day.
"Here, let me help you."
The woman in uniform tossed it down. And trying to hide her desperation, she quickly began to fit it to her face.
Come on, come on.
Some of the moon's atmosphere was still getting in.
Come on…come on…
She tightened the screws, and the mask fit to her mouth with a hiss.
Finally.
She began to breathe. In, out. In, out. Oxygen filled her lungs, carbon dioxide was exhaled, and the mask did its work. Acting as the great filter.
"When you're done dipping, come upstairs," the woman said. "Staff's waiting for you."
Your staff? She wondered, as she watched the woman turn away. Or mine?
She didn't know. But knew that she would have to hurry up and find out.
After all, people like her didn't keep General Frances Ardmore waiting.
Walking onto the bridge of the Challenger, Karina Mogue of the RDA's CetOps branch, was dismayed to see that there were more SecOps staff than her fellow marine biologists and ship crew combined. Most of them, it seemed, had the sense to get out of dodge.
"Hey, Karina. Nice swim?"
But not Dr. Garvin, bless him. He handed her a mug (one marked MAD SCIENTIST! for some reason) filled with a sludgy brown liquid she supposed was coffee.
"Fine." She ran a hand through her damp hair, while accepting the mug with her other. "Nice and cool."
"Oh. Not hot?"
Karina took a sip, choosing to ignore that comment. Also that the coffee tasted terrible. Ian Garvin was a brilliant marine biologist, but his culinary skills were lacking.
"Or was it too cold? Is the coffee too cold? You're not cold, are you?"
Also his social ones.
"It's fine," she lied, as she took a sip. "Really."
Given the way he grinned like a puppy, it seemed he actually believed it.
"Um, not interrupting am I?"
Still, as bad as the coffee was, and as inept as Ian could be, she'd have preferred both to dealing with General Ardmore. Currently standing in the centre of the bridge at a tac-map, opposite Captain Mike Scoresby. Looking none too happy that a jarhead had taken control of his ship, but otherwise remaining silent.
"You are, actually," Karina said. She gave the half-full mug to Ian and took a step forward, standing opposite Ardmore at the table. "This is a deep sea research vessel. What the hell are you and your grunts doing here?"
The grunts in question, one standing at every door, made no motion. Ardmore, however?
"Grunts?" She asked. "Bit harsh, isn't it?"
Karina, knowing there were plenty of worse words that she could call Ardmore's goons, nonetheless remained silent.
"Anyway, don't worry, you'll get to play mermaid soon enough," Ardmore said. "I've just commandeering the Challenger for the next eighteen hours."
"You're what?!" Asked Karina and Ian together.
"Commandeering. Taking command. Assuming direct control." Ardmore clicked her fingers in front of Karina's eyes. "Savvy?"
She did, in fact, know what all of those words meant. Malaysian, Karina had grown up in Kuching in as much poverty as almost everyone else on Earth, but she spoke English as well as her native Kedah Malay. Better, in a sense. English was still one of Malaysia's primary languages, and on Pandora, she had plenty of practice.
She'd hoped to practice Na'vi as well, but then, not many people taught that these days…
"You're onboard with this, Captain?" Karina asked Scoresby.
The bear of a man shrugged. "What's done is done."
"And what has been done?" She asked. What did you do to stop this from happening?
Scoresby made no answer. Karina, however, got hers.
"On the subject of what's been done, not much," said Ardmore, butting in. "But on the subject of what will be done, the Challenger's going to serve as my command post for the duration of the operation," Ardmore said. She looked at Scoresby. "Your crew will obey my commands. Your science team will remain below deck until the situation has been resolved."
Karina saw Scoresby's fist clench. But nevertheless, he nodded, keeping his eyes to the ground.
"And what situation is that?" Ian whispered.
Ardmore glared at him. "That's on a need-to-know basis."
Ian recoiled, but Karina stepped forward. "This is my ship," she said.
"Really? I thought it was Captain Scoresby's." Ardmore looked at the captain. "Isn't that right?"
Scoresby looked like he wanted to get out of dodge. But, growing a spine, he looked at the marine biologist.
"Karina, just…do what she says."
She snorted. "Like hell."
"Karina, please."
"Don't please me Scorb, I am not pleased," she snapped, turning her attention back to Ardmore. "But yes, this is my ship. Scoresby may be the captain, but it's my research vessel, My research team."
"And?" Ardmore asked.
"And I think that puts me on the list of people who need to know."
Ardmore looked her up and down. Karina likewise. If it came to a fight, Ardmore would win, there was no doubt. The two women were of identical height and weight, but Ardmore had muscle and training on her side. And even if she didn't, the goons she had around her would finish the job.
The guns they were carrying weren't for show, after all.
"Fine," Ardmore said. She adjusted the tac-map, giving Karina time to wonder how long it had taken SecOps to alter the boat's system to a military purpose from a scientific one. Probably not long, granted – the same topographic system remained the same, all she had to do was install a military algorithm.
Since the RDA's operations on Pandora were at constant threat condition yellow, nominally civilian hardware had a way of being appropriated when deemed necessary.
"Here," Ardmore said, showing a hologram of one of the countless islands found in the Epimetheus. "Our target. Blue mermaids have been giving our patrols hell, so we're launching an operation to disperse them."
What little colour there was left in Karina's face. And Ardmore must have seen it because she said, "hey, don't worry doc. These boys around me? They're all ex-marines. They're all trained in ship-to-shore assault. We'll clear out the natives with minimal casualties."
Karina felt like throwing up.
"Casualties for who?" Someone asked.
Yet it was Ian who spoke. Ian, who put a glass half-empty aside. Ian, who took a step forward, adjusting his glasses.
God's sake, please don't do anything stupid.
"I asked, casualties for who?" Ian repeated. "You-"
"Stop," Ardmore said. "Just. Stop. I've heard it all before."
"Have you listened?"
"No, egghead, I don't listen to people who don't have to put their lives on the line each day so our operations can continue. Maybe there was a time when we could sit around the bonfire with peace-pipes, but those days are long done. We're here to do a job. Long as we do our jobs, you people get to do your jobs."
Karina rolled her eyes. The budget the RDA afforded its science branch was pocket change compared to SecOps, not to mention its mining operations. Truth of the matter was, it was nothing but greenwashing. A way of telling the masses "see? We care about this moon's environment, how dare you accuse us of being a bunch of greedy assholes! Besides, we're the ones keeping the lights on, so what right have you to complain?"
And, she reflected, they were right. There wasn't much need for a marine biologist on Earth since there was practically nothing left in its seas.
Nothing alive at least.
"Assault begins tomorrow at oh-seven-hundred," Ardmore said, turning her attention back to the tac-map. "All non-essential crew are confined to C deck until then. Captain Scoresby will report to the bridge at oh-six-hundred, but otherwise, non-essentials are going to be kept out of the way." She looked at the assembled crew. "Any questions?"
No-one said anything. Not even Karina.
"Didn't think so."
They were playing cards, but no-one was trying to win. Every member of the science team knew they'd already lost.
"This is bullshit," Ian said, as he flipped a card. "Ardmore can't just take this vessel."
"Actually, she can," said Xi, as he matched Ian's card with his. "Ardmore is the de facto leader of all operations on Pandora, she has the right to appropriate any personnel or material as she sees fit."
The scientists glared at him.
"What? I read it in the Centauri Charter."
"And you did that instead of looking for a way around it?" Girik asked.
"I-"
"It doesn't matter," Karina said, as she leant against one of the rec room's walls, sipping some water. "Even if the charter didn't guarantee it, Ardmore could go full junta at the drop of her hat if she wanted to." She looked her team up and down. "You know how the game works."
No-one said anything. No-one but Ian, at least, who declared that he'd folded.
Pussy.
She watched her fellow biologist take off his glasses and rub his eyes. Retinal technology should have made them obsolete, but you needed the money for that, and wherever you were on Earth, marine biology wasn't a high paying job.
After all, there wasn't much left to study.
"Shouldn't be happening like this," Girik said, as he began shuffling the cards. "We know what happened last time."
Xi, somewhat defensively, said, "and? Why are you here?"
"I'm here, because if I don't shoot my arse to Alpha Centauri, my family gets to starve."
"Oh wow," Girik sneered. "That puts them in the company of…I don't know, everyone?"
"Fuck you."
"No, you can go-"
"Enough," Karina said. "What's done is done." She took a breath. "And it happened before any of us got here."
The team exchanged guilty looks. Her words were true. What happened, happened, and it had happened long before their ISV even made it into the system. In a practical sense, none of them could have been held responsible.
In another? They'd still signed up for this expedition. They'd accepted the outrageous pay. They'd left behind a dead world to explore a still-living one, in the vain hope that they could catalogue Pandora's native aquatic species before the same thing happened here as it had on Earth.
"Think I'll turn in," Girik said, as he got to his feet. "I've had enough of this game."
Xi made the same excuse. As did James, as did Cameron, as did every other scientist bar Ian, who just sat there. Still rubbing his eyes.
Refusing to see.
Silence lingered in the room as the last biologist closed the door. Silence that lasted until Ian put on his glasses and looked at her, looking less like a puppy and more like a wolf.
"You've got a way with people."
She grunted, and made her way to the rec room's sink. Green tea awaited. Proper tea, grown in Pandoran soil.
"You really think it's all for nothing?" He asked.
"What? Us being here?" She scoffed as she put the kettle on. "Well, Ardmore's already got her junta. We can't do anything about that."
"And what can we do about what happened before us?"
The kettle began to boil, making a high-pitched wining sound.
"Are we even going to talk about it?"
Karina, wishing it would whine even louder, put a teabag in the pot.
"Karina, come on. You can't look away. You-"
"You know what?!" She shouted. "Maybe I can!"
The kettle dinged. Ian recoiled. And Karina Mogue, through great effort, managed not to cry.
"I'll make you a cup," she said eventually.
Her hands kept busy, even as her mind didn't.
Ten years ago, the RDA had been driven off Pandora. How and why were answers that she'd never gotten. Someone obviously knew the truth, but when ansible connections hit the fan, what had followed was Hell.
Rationing. Rationing of power, rationing of food, rationing of everything. It wasn't as if Earth's unobtanium supplies had dried up overnight, but everyone with a basic understanding of economics knew what it meant. Economic freefall. Having been working in Indonesia at the time, trying her best to bring back the archipelago's old mangroves, Karina had been spared the worst of it, even if her family in Kuala Lumpur hadn't.
They'd asked her to come home. Instead, she'd taken a trip out-system.
"Here," Karina said, handing the tea to Ian. "Drink it."
"Yes, mum."
She rolled her eyes. She was only four years older than he was.
"Isn't too bad," he murmured, taking a sip. "Prefer Twinings myself."
"Bite me."
He put his glasses back on. Watched her take her own sip. The taste was off (something to do with the soil it was grown in, she supposed), but it was warm, and that was what mattered. She still hadn't recovered from her earlier dip.
Then again, she supposed, Ardmore's reception was far colder than even the deepest parts of the ocean.
"I'm serious though," Ian said. "We have to talk about it."
And there it was. The chill was back.
"You think the people back home would condone this operation if they knew what was happening?"
She scoffed. "Are you that stupid, or that naive?"
"What?"
She took a sip, sighing. "People want food on the table. They want the lights on. They may feel bad, they may do a fundraiser, they can form all the societies they want, it doesn't change anything."
"It doesn't?"
"When you get back home, Ian, look at it. Look for anything still green. Look for anything that was saved, because spoilers, nothing was."
Ian looked at her. Really, looked at her. His blue eyes locked with her brown ones, his glasses the mirror between them. Looked, until he could look no more, and returned his attention to the tea.
"Doesn't change what happened here," he whispered.
That, Karina supposed, she could agree with.
What happened here three years ago was something that was still, to quote, "highly classified." All she knew was that once word reached Earth of the RDA being driven off Pandora, two ISVs had been pressed into service immediately – second generation, able to go at 80% lightspeed. Any ISVs either en route to Sol or Alpha Centauri couldn't change course, but the two that were deployed, Endeavour and Enterprise, were launched in 2156.
She'd been on Enterprise. She, a small group of scientists to placate any guilty consciences, and a mining crew. Endeavour had two years before them, and by the time she woke from cryo, she found Hell's Gate up and running (and expanded), two unobtanium mines in operation, and no sign of the na'vi. At least, not in the area in question.
She asked what had happened. And quickly learned not to. All that remained was to keep her head down, study the seas while others of her kin studied the land, and hoped, prayed even, that Pandora wouldn't become what Earth had.
Prayers she doubted would be answered.
"You know what Ardmore's going to do tomorrow," said Ian.
Karina remained silent.
"What's going to happen."
She sighed. "What do you want me to do about it?"
"Something? Anything?"
"And then what?" She asked. "Suppose we take the ship. Suppose we get the task force to stand down. What then, Ian? What protects our glorious revolt of the scientists?"
He scowled. "If people had listened to scientists, we wouldn't be in this mess."
A retort died on her lips. It was debatable, really, if listening to scientists would have changed anything in the 21st century, or even before. Population went up. Consumption went up a lot faster. Forests were cleared, deserts expanded, the oceans became anoxic, Earth's worst extinction since the Great Dying of 250 million years ago became set in stone.
Human civilization survived, somehow. Everything around it didn't. It was all very well to say that scientists should have been listened to, but how far back did you even go? The first piece of coal burnt? The first wheat harvested? The first mammoth slain? That moment when an unremarkable group of primates crawled down from the trees into a drying landscape and began using fire? When?
She didn't know. All she knew was that Earth was dead. And that humanity could harvest every last piece of unobtanium from Pandora, and it still wouldn't save their home.
Ian got up. With nary a word, he headed for the door. Muttering something about turning in.
Karina didn't blame him. But she doubted it would do any good.
You didn't dream in cryo. But you could on Pandora.
Or, more commonly, have nightmares.
She'd gone to sleep at 2200 local time. She woke up eight hours later.
Being the head of the Challenger's science team, she was entitled to her own quarters, and the living space that entailed. Right now, most of that space was taken up by laptops, datapads, magazines, and half-eaten instant meals. Pandora could grow better food than Earth, but algae-packs were still the cheapest foodstuffs available, and the most efficient.
Despite being valued in the trillions, the RDA didn't tend to go beyond the bare necessities. It didn't care if its employees had their worries and strife. And as for Mother Nature's recipes?
She rubbed her eyes, and gave a sad smile. Mother Nature had been murdered long ago, and the only bears left on Earth were those in captivity. You were more likely to find a starving boy in the former jungles of India than you were a bear of any kind.
She checked her watch – 0616. Sixteen minutes ago, Scoresby would have arrived on the bridge, ready to do whatever the general commanded. 44…wait, 43, minutes from now, General Ardmore would carry out her 'dispersal' operation. Hours after that, days at the most, the Challenger would continue on its merry way as if nothing had happened.
She'd heard stories about what had happened last time. Of the supposed role the science team had played in driving the RDA off-world. She didn't know how much truth there was to that, but if there was any truth at all, it was more than she was doing now. Just lying here.
On the other hand, given what the Avatar Program had become, what its scientists were doing right now…perhaps being neutral was on the better side of morality.
She groaned, and reached under the bed, pulling out a half-finished bottle of beer. It wasn't the first liquid breakfast she'd consumed, and she knew it wouldn't be the last. The first time on this world was the day after she'd arrived. When she'd checked in, and been casually informed that her family was dead. Latest influenza strain had hit Southeast Asia hard, and all of her extended family, forced to live in the one apartment in Kuala Lumpur, were dead. The message had been sent not long after she'd left Earth, travelling at the speed of light, so that by the time the Enterprise had arrived, it had lain in the Hell's Gate database, activating as soon as she'd checked in.
She'd cried. She'd gone to sleep. Then she'd turned up to work drunk, and somehow, not been fired.
She checked her watch – 0634. Time went by when you weren't having fun. All the more so as she heard a whirring sound from beyond the hull.
Don't do it. Don't go there.
She sat up and pressed her ear against the wall.
Shit, you are going there, aren't you?
Whirring, humming, whatever used she used to describe it, it didn't matter. All it confirmed was the presence of Gators in the water, and gunships above it. In 25 minutes, hell would be unleashed, just like Ardmore had done more times than she cared to count.
Use of force, to instil the fear of further force. She might not have been a soldier, but even she understood how the world…all worlds…worked.
So she sat there. Drinking. Wishing she could fall back asleep. That she could wake up and find herself in another ocean entirely. Even the Pacific. Even with many of its islands submerged by the rising seas, and its remaining ones devastated by ever-strengthening hurricanes, it might have been preferable. But then?
0640.
The Pacific couldn't be saved. The Epimetheus could
Its people could. And while she doubted she was the person to do it?
She quickly got dressed and headed out of the room.
She doubted she could make a difference, but she could at least try.
It took her five minutes to reach the bridge. The Challenger crew gave her a few glances, but made no move to stop or aid her. One thing that many workers on Pandora knew was to keep your head down, and turn a blind eye to all the shit going around you. It might do a number on your soul, but if you survived your first five years, and therefore got the option to go home, you could retire into something that at least passed for comfort.
It was only at the entrance to the bridge that she encountered any difficulty. A bored looking grunt was leaning against the wall, barely awake, before he snapped to attention at the sound of her footsteps. Only to give her a look when he realized that she wasn't part of SecOps.
"Open the door," she said.
He looked her up and down.
"You got wax in your ears?"
"No. Got my orders though."
"Right. And my orders are to report to the bridge."
He gave her a look.
"Listen, you can either let me through now, and we forget this ever happened, or you give them a call, and they tell you what I'm telling you, and you get chewed out for wasting everyone's time."
He didn't look convinced. But there was enough doubt in his eyes to get him to stand aside.
"Thank you." She pressed her thumb against the door-scanner, exhaling quietly as it slid open. Even if Ardmore had commandeered the Challenger, this was still her boat.
Or, she thought, as she stepped onto the bridge, perhaps not.
A rock that had taken up residence in her chest plummeted, taking her spirits with it. SecOps crew dominated the bridge. Pouring over holograms, talking over radios, talking in all kinds of lingo that involved callsigns and numbers. In the centre stood General Ardmore, talking with a colonel as they both studied the tac-map in the centre. And in a corner, trying to look inconspicuous?
"Karina?"
Scoresby.
"What are you doing here?" He hissed, as he walked over.
"I dunno. What are you doing?"
"What?"
"I asked what you are doing," she whispered. "About this."
Scoresby remained silent. The shame in his eyes spoke for him, but it couldn't speak for the dead. Past, present, or most importantly, future.
"This is wrong," she whispered. "You know that, right?"
"Course I fucking know that. But I can't do anything."
"You're the captain of this ship, course you can bloody well-"
"I'm sorry, am I interrupting?"
The rock continued to sink. Even as Karina raised her eyes, and met Ardmore's gaze. The general, grinning, slammed a clipboard shut with a loud 'whack' that echoed across the bridge.
"No, please, take your time," Ardmore continued. "I'm sure you're concocting some cock-and-bull story as to why Private Hudson let you in."
Karina shrugged. "He's sleepy."
"Right." She looked at one of her men. "Corporal Hicks, please escort Ms. Mogue off the bridge."
The corporal walked over. He grabbed her arm.
"Don't touch me!"
And promptly let go.
"You have to stop this," Karina said, as she walked to Ardmore.
The general ignored her, and instead ordered the colonel to liaise with something called the A Team.
"It's not too late."
Still, Ardmore ignored her. The corporal who'd accosted her earlier just stood there, apparently unsure as to whether his orders still stood.
"Are you even listening?!"
"You know, I'm curious," Ardmore said. "Did you have a plan beyond getting on the bridge and pleading that I just cancel an op that's been in the planning stages for the last three days?"
Karina said nothing.
"Well?"
"I…" She bit her lip. She looked a Scoresby, who just stood there. At the corporal, who moved back. At the colonel, talking into his ear-radio. Now that she was here…
"Take a look," Ardmore said, as she gestured to the tac-map. A lot of planning's gone into this, so I assume you have something worth my time."
Karina looked at the map, and her heart skipped a beat.
It showed a hologram of an island. From all sides were Picadors on sea, and gunships in the air. Predominantly Scorpions, from the looks of things – it looked like SecOps was far more intent on raining fire on the island than taking it.
And on the island itself? More holograms. Ghosts, of the na'vi who were there. Lining up on the sand, and in the trees, in formation.
They'd fight. They'd die. Unless…
"You're killing them," Karina whispered.
"Not killing. Dispersing."
"It's the same difference!"
Ardmore sighed. "You know, if I wanted them dead, you do realize that I could send a single missile onto that island and wipe them all out, right?"
Karina opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
"Or a mass driver?"
"Like the Endeavour did?" Scoresby whispered, taking a step forward.
Something flickered in Ardmore's eyes.
"A single round fired from orbit, onto the site known as the Tree of Souls?"
Ardmore scowled. "You have a big imagination, captain. I suggest you use it on more productive pursuits."
"Like this?!"
"Yes, like this." Ardmore checked her watch. "Oh, look at the time. We have a show to put on." She looked at the colonel. "Colonel Ryder, is A Team a go?"
"Affirmative." He didn't look, or sound happy, but like everyone else here, he had a job to do, and was resigned to it. "They'll land after the initial wave."
"Good." Ardmore picked up a radio. "All teams, this is Mother Bear. You are cleared hot. Engage."
Scoresby took a step towards Ardmore. Without looking, she said, "Corporal Hicks, if the captain moves, shoot him."
Whatever fire Scoresby had gained, it went out. Karina's eyes darted around. Everyone was focused on their screens, bar the corporal, whose hand was on his holster.
The Tree of Souls…
She'd heard the rumours as everyone had. The Endeavour had arrived, and destroyed a na'vi sacred site from orbit. Used a weapon that was forbidden by all manner of treaties designed to regulate warfare within the Sol system. A projectile fired at one tenth of the speed of light had smashed into the moon's surface, and in a moment, torn out the heart of an entire species.
And, according to some, something more. Animals behaving differently, trees dying, a kind of…soul-sickness in the na'vi themselves. This wasn't the destruction of a sacred site, this was something that could be measured in the planet's biosphere. On land.
And in the sea.
The dust had cleared. Endeavour had disgorged its cargo, and when it had arrived, Enterprise had done the same. Years on, SecOps was still dispersing any na'vi who dared to fight back.
Like now. She watched in horror as holographic vehicles unleashed holographic projectiles on holographic targets. In a macabre approximation of what was happening elsewhere, the holograms on the island began to wink out.
"Stop it," she whispered.
Ardmore made no sign she'd even heard her. Instead, her attention was focused entirely on the battlefield. At all the little lights…disappearing one by one…
"General, that's enough."
Ardmore talked into her radio. "Avatar Team, commence landing. Standard procedure."
Karina's eyes widened. "Avatar Team?"
Ardmore looked at her, a look of genuine confusion on her face. "Who else did you think the A Team was?"
Truth was, she hadn't at all. She exchanged a look with Scoresby. Under threat of execution, he held his tongue, but they both knew the truth of things.
Once, the Avatar Program had been a bridge between two worlds. For humans to walk in na'vi skin, in an attempt to establish peaceful relations. It had failed, only to return with a vengeance.
Soldiers in Avatar bodies. The best of the best. Able to go toe-to-toe with any na'vi they encountered. Where, if they died, they could find a new body waiting for them, learn from the experience, and become more efficient killers. Or in some areas, infiltrate native tribes.
It was perverse. It was obscene. It was billions of dollars spent per body. And yet, the RDA had done it.
Supersoldiers had been deemed worth than diplomats.
"All units, stand down," said Ardmore. "A Team, secure the site."
There was a crackle on the other end of the radio.
"No, I don't' care about wounded, the Geneva Conventions don't extend beyond Sol. Leave them, let the natives pick them up if they want. We've sent a message."
The radio crackled.
"Good. Mama Bear, out."
Ardmore looked at Karina. "Now that-"
The marine biologist punched her.
Shouts and exclamations rang out all across the bridge as Karina's fist made contact with Ardmore's jaw. As she dived against the general. As she began to bring her fists down again, and again, and-
Ardmore kicked her with both her boots. Hard. Karina fell off, winded. Struggled to breathe, even as she tried to get up and-
Click.
…found a pistol pointed directly at her temple. Held by the woman above her. Her nostrils flaring, her eyes wide, her finger on the trigger.
Part of Karina wanted to beg for mercy. The other wanted to dare the general to do it.
She didn't know how long she lay there. How long it was until Ardmore got to her feet. Until the general holstered her pistol and extended a hand to the scientist below.
Karina didn't know what game the general was playing at. From the looks of things, no-one else did. But gingerly, she took the general's hand. Slowly got to her feet.
And yelled as Ardmore grabbed her by the neck, slamming her forehead against the tac-map.
"If you ever do something like that again," the general hissed into Karina's ear, "I will personally gut you and send what's left back to Sol."
Karina tried to whisper something.
"What?"
"Like you…did…them?"
"What?!"
"Like you did to them?!" Karina adjusted her head as best she was able to. Her eyes were focused on the beach. Holographic flames danced over holographic sand, burning holographic trees.
Even as Ardmore yanked her to her feet, and gave her a shove towards Scoresby, Karina's eyes were on the flickers of the dead.
"You know how the game works," Ardmore said, addressing not so much Karina, but the men and women around her. "I will not write another death-com if I can avoid it. What we did today will save lives in the long run."
"Bullshit," Karina heard Scoresby whisper. A sentiment that she agreed with. Rather, the question was whether Ardmore was parroting the company line, or actually believed it.
Or was she trying to convince herself?
The general picked up the radio. "All teams, disengage. I have some cranky scientists who want their pleasure yacht back."
Some of the goons snickered. Some didn't. Karina simply spat at the general.
"Charming," Ardmore murmured.
"You're a murderer," Karina whispered.
Something flickered in Ardmore's eyes. Anger? Regret? A combination? Karina couldn't say. She knew that the na'vi had a phrase – phrase. Of not just seeing the one before them, but seeing into them. She wondered what they'd see in Ardmore.
A blank slate.
"You know why we're here," the general whispered, her voice cracking however slightly. "Unobtanium. We get it, Earth keeps going."
Karina looked at the tac-map. Whispered, "and what say did they get?"
"When we save Earth, we can have the luxury of debating how we did so." The general adjusted her cap. "Corporal Hicks, escort Doctor Mogue back to her quarters and post a guard. Once we're gone, she can go back to skinny dipping, but until now, I want her out of my sight."
"Yes ma'am." The corporal walked over, smirking. "Easy way, or hard way?"
"Go to hell."
"Hard way, then."
For a second, Karina saw a taser in the corporal's hand.
A second after that, she saw nothing.
Ardmore had been true to their word. Eighteen hours since commandeering the Challenger, and SecOps had vacated it, and the area, entirely. In a sense, there was no sign that they'd ever been there.
The cloud of smoke coming from a nearby island told another story.
Garvin had begged Scoresby to take the vessel in. To offer what aid they could. Scoresby, however, had refused, insisting it was too dangerous. And while Karina silently agreed, she knew the real truth as to why he refused to act. The same reason why she refused to take Garvin's side.
Shame. Guilt. Grief.
You didn't massacre a family, and offer the survivor a band aid. And while they may not have been the ones who'd done the shooting, they were still complicit, she reflected. Same company. Same operation. Same species. Any na'vi left on that island wouldn't be able to tell, or even care about the difference.
She couldn't blame them.
When we save Earth, we can have the luxury of debating how we did so.
Even now, Ardmore's words rang in her ears. She hadn't pointed out the lie behind them. Not the lie that Earth needed unobtanium (humanity did, and even that was debatable). Rather, the older, deeper lie. The lie that no-one, on this world or any other, dared face.
Earth was beyond saving. And not all the rocks in all the universe could avoid what was coming.
In the long run, Earth would recover. It was humanity who would perish in the end. Mankind's homeworld was dead, humanity was dying, and in Man's dying throes, gasping for breath, he was dragging down a second world and its people with it.
In the end though, humanity would still suffocate.
Under the glow of two suns, she stood on the edge of the deck. A chilly breeze cut through her hair. Her skin. In silence, she took off her exopack, tied it up, and tossed it in.
She stood there, for a good ten seconds. Felt the poison filling her lungs. Fighting against the poison that was already there. As if the world itself was fighting against her presence. Which, she supposed, it was.
Squinting, she glanced at the ship's anchor. Considered what she had more than once…before finally jumping into the water.
Alone. Beneath the surface. Embracing water's chill. Doing at last what she had forbade herself from doing above.
She wept. In grief. In futility. In shame.
All irrelevant, she told herself.
For what was her sorrow, but tears in the sea?