Secrets ran deep on the Hive, and the officers who kept those secrets did so with a sense of honor and duty. And yet, the burden ate at Jordan’s mind as he sat alone in his quarters, watching a classified video from the restricted archives.
He could picture Captain Ash vividly, her eyes glued to the screen, mesmerized by videos just like this one even as her own body was wasting away.
Jordan slipped on his headset and hit play. The deep, resonant voice of the narrator filled his earpiece.
“Industrial Tech Corporation, leading humanity into a bright future,” the voiceover said as an image of a bustling city appeared on-screen.
Scrapers with glass walls filled the skyline. Vehicles of all shapes and colors buzzed around the streets, and the sidewalks thronged with thousands of people dressed in the fashions of 260 years ago. Most of these people seemed to be speaking not to one another, but to small handheld devices. Jordan had seen one of these “smart phones” years ago. Captain Ash had kept it in her desk, but Jordan had given it, along with various other relics the captains before him had kept in the office, to Samson, to cannibalize for parts.
“The future has never been more exciting,” the narrator continued. “Advances in medicine and technology have allowed humans to live longer and better lives than ever before.”
The video feed was now of the countryside. A clear stream meandered through a thick forest. The collage of colors filled the screen. It seemed unreal that the world had ever been so vibrant and beautiful. A man and a woman strolled with their daughter on a stone path around a lake. Leaves drifted to the ground around them.
“Industrial Tech Corporation believes in a better future for all,” the narrator said. “We also believe in safeguarding your future in this time of unprecedented growth. That’s why we are taking steps to protect what we value most.”
The next section of the video was shot inside a huge warehouse. The Hive and several of her sister ships filled the space, resting on platforms that stood five stories high. Ladders and scaffolding surrounded the airships, and hundreds of workers in gray uniforms worked on the black, beetle-shaped exteriors.
“We are investing in new technology to protect against ever-evolving threats. These airships, when complete, will be the most advanced in the world, with electromagnetic pulse-resistant technology and the ability to sustain flight far longer than conventional aircraft.”
Jordan almost smiled at that. He wondered if the engineers ever planned on a flight that would last over two and a half centuries.
The screen switched to a time-lapse video of a construction site. An extensive area was being excavated. Next came the concrete, but instead of going up, the workers were building their structure belowground.
“Cities like this one could someday house the human race in the event of an unprecedented natural disaster or global war.”
The footage switched to images of vaults filled with seeds, and vast underground farms that put the one aboard the Hive to shame. Warehouses contained stockpiles of every supply imaginable, from computer parts to preserved rations. Next came the cryogenic chambers housing thousands of different species, including humans.
Few knew about the cryogenic silos or what ITC had been doing there. Jordan had kept it a secret ever since Captain Ash learned the truth about genetic engineering and shared it with him. Now that Ash was dead and the Hive was the only ship in the sky, he might well be the only person alive who knew the truth.
That would soon change. For his plan to succeed, he needed Rodger and the other divers to discover the truth for themselves.
The feed changed to a strange room that seemed to be underwater. Fish of all sizes swam past large windows. The narrator called it an “aquarium.” What ITC had done was remarkable, but in the end, it hadn’t been enough to save humanity. Humans had been driven from the surface into the great airships until, one by one, those fell from the sky.
“We have gone to great lengths to ensure the future of the human race,” the narrator said. “That future is bright, and we hope you will join us there.”
Jordan shut off the feed. The video ended on a happy note that now felt like a cruel joke. The future he lived in was anything but bright.
Only a few people on the Hive knew the rest of the story. The archives were vast, but bits and pieces of the big picture had been lost to time. Some of the files were corrupted; others had been erased. Though the details were vague, it seemed that mutually assured destruction had worked as designed, and brought the world to an end. During the Third World War, the very ships built to protect the United States had ended up destroying the planet with powerful bombs that turned the surface into wastelands.
Jordan still wasn’t sure who had caused the last war of humanity, but he knew that no corner of the earth had been spared from the perpetual darkness and the electrical storms that the bombs had created. North America. Europe. The Middle East. Asia. It was all gone.
With a snort, he turned away from his computer. This was exactly why he didn’t share the radio transmissions from the surface with the general population. Those messages could cause a riot.
No, he had to keep his people focused on their daily survival. There were only 442 people left on the ship. Scientists said it took at least 150 healthy humans to carry on the species. There were more bodies than that aboard the Hive, but they weren’t healthy by any stretch. Most had cancer at one stage or another. The radiation poisoning was slowly killing everyone.
He put his head in his hands. How much longer could he stave off the inevitable?
Jordan raised his head and scooted his chair closer to the monitor. Captain Ash had marked the Hilltop Bastion as one of the most promising places that could hold survivors. She had taken a deep interest in places like it in the final year of her life. In the end, it had also driven her mad and forced Jordan into some very difficult decisions for the safety of those aboard the Hive. He keyed in his credentials and unlocked her final logs, which painted a grim picture of the woman Captain Ash had become during the last years of her life.
The lower decks smelled worse than Michael remembered from his last visit. The shit cans weren’t being composted but once a week, and showers were running only a fraction of the time because of the energy curtailment. That meant overfill and the threat of disease, not to mention the rancid smells.
Curious eyes followed Michael and Layla down the corridor, which was lined with pathetic dirt-filled troughs where the lower-deckers tried to grow a few extra carrots or spinach plants. The leaves were pale and shriveled, like the people who lived down here. It made Michael sad and angry to see the way they were treated.
“Hell Divers,” hissed an old woman as they passed. Norma, an elderly gardener with a crooked spine, staggered after them, holding up hands caked with dirt. “Tell that captain we need the grow lights back on!”
Layla approached her, smiling gently. “We’re doing our best. I’ll pass your request on to Captain Jordan personally.”
Her calm voice seemed to soothe the old woman, who shuffled away toward one of the troughs and went back to propping up a tomato plant. How many thousands of times in her life had she performed that task? Michael wondered. Perhaps that was the reason she was bent like one of the struggling, stunted plants.
“Good job,” he said to Layla.
“We can’t stay down here much longer. People are going to start asking us questions.”
“We’re almost there,” Michael said. They hurried through the dark hallway into one of the least-visited rooms on the ship.