Ecrite au cours de l’été 2005, cette histoire fait partie intégrante de l’univers d’Eien, bien que cela ne semble pas évident au premier abord.

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Et in Arcadia Nos

 

Once the communications were restrained, Chief Engineer Va’Laeran knew that it was only a matter of hours before the personnel would get at him.

“This is going nowhere! What do you want?”

Enhanced by the nano-transmitters whirlwinding around him from his personal unit, his voice boomed in the vast conference room of the Core Research Center, covering for a second the shouts of the workers. Coming from all nations of Ewell, from the white-haired Rim to the stern Kellenim with their icy gazes, they were all gathered on that day for the same reason, and he couldn’t ignore their claims anymore.

“We want to go home, that’s what we want!” said a woman’s voice, and room was suddenly made in the crowd around Ni’Ama, who for seven years had been coordinating the five production teams.

“We’ve seen the holo-news this morning. The Ministry won’t answer Varsa’s ultimatum, and this means war on our territory. We need to go back to our families, before it’s too late!

— I can’t let you go without the Ministry’s approval, and you know this too. We’re all bound by the same contract here.” Va’Laeran did his best to keep his voice calm and controlled; if he was to let room to panic, everything would be lost.

An angry murmur rose in the crowd, and the Chief Engineer understood that it had taken them much courage to envision what no member of the working class had attempted during so many decades. Since the lead scientists of the Center had agreed to provide their government’s troops with nano-units for the medical section, the floating artifical island stationed fourty miles from Kashia’s Point could at any moment become a military target as well, whether Varsa or another of the Mornen countries would strike first. More than anger, it was fear that was driving them all on that day.

“They won’t give it!” Ni’Ama said; her deep frown betrayed her own attempts at keeping any strong emotion under control. “All incoming flights will soon be canceled, and from this flyland too! You don’t understand—

— No, you don’t! I don’t have this power, Ni’Ama! I can give you access to the secured holo-net to contact your families, but I can’t do more. We don’t want the troops coming down here to take control, do we?”

He was right, and they all knew it. Letting them use the network was the only compromise he could work on at the moment. Any strike—a strike! This hadn’t happened in more than four centuries—or open rebellion would attract unwanted attention on them, and he needed to delay this as much as possible.

“Fine. For the moment, we do that. But it’s not over yet, Chief Va’Laeran”, Ni’Ama said with clenched fists. “If you can’t take a decision soon, someone else will take it for you.”

With the last words of this threat echoing under the cristalline dome, the crowd dispersed, those who had family in Ewell hurrying back to their quarters to make their calls. The regular communication channels had been severely restricted the day before to free the holo-net for news broadcasts; an access to the secured Gold Channel was probably more than most of them had expected when they had gathered early morning and demanded to speak to the chief personnel of the Research Center.

Standing silent on the platform from which he had spoken, watching the workers and low-rank scientists depart, Va’Laeran Esharin felt the first taste of defeat in his mouth, as the world was starting to collapse around him.

Soon, the soldiers would come no matter what, if only with the excuse of protecting them, and once the military would have a say in his research, they would make a murderer out of him.

***

They should have listened to MARA, when she had warned them of the hard times to come, of the military coup in Varsa, of the declining Senate of the Llenane Confederation, too big and loose to keep a whole continent under its guidance any longer. They should have paid more attention to the alarming signs of the previous years, to the escalation of political incidents, when governments had begun to worry and slowly admit to themselves that the situation was getting out of hand, on the diplomatic level as well as on the economic one. Indeed, they should have listened to their central AI, when she had told the Council of Nations that they had to step in as moderators between Mornen and Llenan, before it was too late.

The negotiations had lamentably backfired, the two other continents taking offense at Ewell’s repeated ingerence in their foreign affairs, and in the end, war had taken its claim on them all.

In his office of the highest tower of the Core Research Center, Va’Laeran replayed for the tenth time the latest holo-display he had received on the secured Ministry channel. Obeying the new orders would only send them spiralling even more quickly on the road to destruction. A nano-virus! Using the units to assist the medics wasn’t enough anymore. He had consecrated his life and work to this research in the hopes of helping medicine progress, of bettering life conditions for the Ewelli and for the rest of the world, once it could be adapted to the human race, and now they wanted him to turn his precious nano-bots into a weapon of mass destruction against Mornen and Llenan!

“Laeran, we need to talk.”

No sooner had the automated door finished sliding that Shi’Annan, his first assistant, stepped in, a decided and stern look on her pale Kellenin face. She hadn’t changed much, in the past fifteen years, the nanobots maintaining her body in a state of permanent youth—the same clear gaze, the same short, dark hair framing her pointy ears, the same strong attitude. Since the beginning of the hostilities, however, her expression had been of constant worry, and the crease on her brow didn’t seem to ever disappear in these days of trouble.

“The workers will go on strike or run away”, she said without even leaving him the time to protest. “You need to negotiate with them again, or—

— What use would it be? The main land has closed its frontiers. Even if I’m to let them go, they can’t go back home anymore now.”

This clearly wasn’t the answer Shi’Annan expected from him, he could tell from her frustrated look.

“Varsa’s going to use its tectonic weapon, for Shien’s sake!” Annan slammed her hands against his desk, shaking in anger. “We won’t survive it! Even if they strike Ewell only, we’ll be wiped off by the shock wave too!

— There’s no place we can go to. If our knowledge dies with us, it’s probably for the best.

— Go and tell them that! There’s no point going on. All they expect from us are weapons, weapons, always weapons! We might as well blow up the Center ourselves, don’t you think?”

Annan was right. The ideals he had pursued, decades ago, the high hopes placed in nano-technology, the Ewelli government, reputed to be so wise yet now stooping to the level of the Varsa military dictatorship or the Confederation’s willingness to aim all their intercontinental missiles at Mornen’s leading country… It was all crumbling before his very eyes, yet he couldn’t just abandon the Core. His life was on this flyland, after all.

She took a deep breath; then only did he realize that she, too, was terrified.

“We have to do something. Ra’Ell and Ar’Allan have suggested we take the Core with us. You needed to know this.

— Do what? How do they intend on—

— They say they can infiltrate MARA’s main program through her copy on the local system. If we reconfigure the new nanites field and redirect the flying units, it’s doable. We can produce enough energy to move the flyland and keep it floating at twenty thousands feet. For two years, at the least.”

He understood the hidden meaning of her proposal, the risks they would have to take, the possibilities it could open, and he suddenly understood her fears, too. They could become the primary target, an artificial construct caught flying away without any escort from the military; would it be for the best, if they were to be destroyed in the process? They could also survive a little longer, if managing to go far enough from the effect area of the anti-matter weapons. So many ifs, so few answers, so little time.

“They never told me about this.

— You had enough on our hands with the officials, and… We wanted to make sure we could do it.

— Annan… It’s already too late. The troops will be here this afternoon.

— They will?”

All of a sudden, sheer terror was in her gaze, in the slight jerk of her hands, allowing him to know that she had in fact already made up her mind about this idea, and was placing all her hopes in his decision.

“You can’t. You can’t let them come. Please, Laeran, we’re more than four thousands here!

— Yes, four thousand scientists and technicians, without any weapons. Unless… unless we lie.

— Care to explain?

— They want weapons, we’ll give them weapons. Now, if we fail, we die. Are you ready for that?”

A faint smile played on the assistant’s lips for a second.

“If it means that I’ve at least tried, yes.”

It was nothing less than a rebellion against the Ministry, a folly, an inconsiderate, desperate act—and probably the last one they would ever attempt.

Perhaps he wouldn’t have to become a murderer, after all.

***

“Welcome to your new quarters, Lieutenant Ve’Lan. You and your men are now consigned here.”

The sliding transparent door slammed shut between the two Rim, locking itself in the same split second. The tall officer turned in a quick movement, for Va’Laeran to meet him with a confident smile.

“What the—” Ve’Lan said in a cold voice. “Open the door. This is an order!

— Sorry, Lieutenant. Before you ask, if you decide to attempt anything, I’ll have to release this. You know, of course, that your bodies aren’t protected against this new nano-virus.”

He flashed the small sealed vial marked with the red etiquette, in a move that he hoped looked threatening enough, and saw surprise and anger in the officer’s grey eyes. Of course, the man had seen the laboratories, as well as the carefully aligned and shielded containers for the engineered virus he was supposed to bring back to Ewell, once its development would be finished.

“This is an act of treason. The Ministry will be informed!

— We should reach Shigari Archipelago in about six hours”, Va’Laeran said, a faint feeling of satisfaction rising in him. “If I were you, I’d make sure to take a seat. It’s the first time we’re moving this flyland by ourselves. There could be… accidents.

— You’re completely mad! It’s not meant to be operated by—

— Nano-tech can be put to many uses, you know. Not only to harm and destroy.”

His voice sharp and harsh, Va’Laeran turned on his heels, leaving the officer behind him pound the glass with his fist and order him to stop over and over again. He had never played such a game before, and kept on hoping that their little bluff would hold long enough. Ve’Lan wasn’t a man who could be so easily manipulated. His subordinates, on the other hand… He had noticed the despair in their eyes, the wish to see this war end, the fear of complete destruction, now that they knew that Varsa was ready to use its newly developed tectonic wave any time. Ewell was probably condemned. If there ever was an end to this, he’d face the trial court with his chin held high; in the meantime, saving his people was a priority.

“All ready to go here. What about our snoopers?” echoed Ar’Allan’s voice in the receptor unit of his sub-vocal communicator at the very moment he entered the observation room of the building.

“Where they’re meant to be. Let’s go, then, and hope that you were right.

— Roger that. Hang on to whatever you can, boss.”

A deep, muffled sound echoed in the bowels of the huge flyland getting in motion; even though the acceleration would probably never be enough to be felt—they were already fortunate enough to simply make it move—he knew that the huge mass of cristal, metal and hardened glass was now gaining speed, its long stabilizing tail still to brush the surface of the sea until they would be high enough in the sky.

“Looks like it’s holding good so far.” Ar’Allan, again. “We probably have five or six hours ahead, before they realize we’re gone.

— Just enough to reach Shigari. Is this far enough?

— Depends on the area effect. The Ministry’s taking a hell of a bet here. Do you think they’ll really do… like they said?

— It’s Varsa we’re talking about, Allan.”

Va’Laeran fell silent, taking a few steps toward the large bay-window. There was only darkness around them, darkness, water and faraway stars, and the odd, regular noises of the now moving flyland. He didn’t feel at ease, knowing that the early morning would perhaps see the destruction of his homeland, if Varsa was to carry their ultimatum. Frightened, isolated, doing his best not to show his colleagues how little trust he had in this project: the engineer kept on wishing that this was all a nightmare, and that morning would find them all safe and sound, far from the matters of war that had plagued their last months. Ten levels under his feet, in the narrow room where he had locked the soldiers, Ve’Lan was probably still trying to figure out how to get out of such a situation. He refused to think to what would happen if the Lieutenant were to find one; there had never been any virus ready to be released in the isolation room.

Around six o’clock, the rosy dawn coloured the horizon in crimson and purple, casting on Va’Laeran’s face a hundred shades of conflicting feelings.

Around six o’clock, the few remaining communications channels with the mainland suddenly went static.

***

First came the terror, the terror at seeing how Ewell got wiped off the surface of the planet in a matter of hours, after the first and last use of the tectonic prototype. No more shiny cristal cities, no more communications, no more Rim nor Kellenim, no more floating islands in the sky of the main land, architectural and technical wizardry meant to create additional space in a once overpopulated country. Varsa’s government itself started to panic, when every satellite liaison broadcast showed the world what was now left of a whole continent, reduced to thousands and thousands of small patches of earth soon to be engulfed by the blue immensity.

Second came the Flood, the turmoil created in the middle of the ocean causing the waters to subside first, then rise in a chaos. When they finally retreated again, finding a new, fragile balance, the face of the world was never to be the same again.

In the end, caught in the chain of events that had boiled for decades only to culminate without any point of turning-back, the lead countries and their allies annihilated themselves in a last display of raw, brutal strength.

For weeks now, the vast city had been drifting above the surface of their world, deprived from its roots, forever enclosed within a screen of self-replicating nanites programmed to maintain the protection field around the research city. Its inhabitants didn’t know yet how they would survive for more than a few years, once all supplies, biological as well as artificial, would have run out. Shi’Annan was already directing a whole team onto improving their hydroponic farms. Ni’Ama upped production at full capacity, their survival now depending on how long they’d be able to keep the city flying; they couldn’t go back to what was left of the continents and their poisoned soils. Ve’Lan himself came to announce that he would take an active part in the operations, preparing and leading a team on the surface, after further testing had confirmed that the lab protection suits would be enough to shield their bodies from the fallout. He would still act with grudge most of the time, yet he knew that none of them had much choice. There was no point in fighting for a country or a government that didn’t exist anymore.

When he met up with the Chief Engineer, the officer’s voice didn’t betray any feelings.

“We didn’t find anyone, only corpses. Dead for about three weeks.

— The radiations?

— Looks like it.” Ve’Lan tossed the recording instruments at him, letting him see by himself the results of his investigation. After so many nuclear strikes on both continents, it would take decades or even centuries before survivors could grow a proper civilization again.

Were there any survivors? Was there even any civilization worth restoring?

“We need to find other sources of energy”, Va’Laeran said after a long moment of silence, gazing at the artificial sky displayed by the protection dome, the sky that would forever remain blue above their heads.

“Try the mines in Estria or Arrinin, if they still exist. It’s not like we’d lack iron, at least. You can rely on your nano-tech as much as you want, if the ‘bots run out of matter to work with, we’re all dead, right?

— Right. Maybe we’ll find other survivors, too.”

Ve’Lan shrugged, and the expression in his eyes didn’t change. Was he experiencing the same terrible feeling of loneliness, or simply carrying on his job as he had likely always done? Laeran would probably never know. Only one thing was sure now: they were the last ones of their breed, and if the humans had perished too, they would just be that, without any more distinction.

Once upon a time, they had discovered the secret of nano-technology, and dreamt of using it for the sake of humanity. Once upon a time, the world had gone mad, and ended its own role in the everlasting cycle of nature. Surviving this was the most daunting task they had ever faced. Surviving it alone was so overwhelming that the engineer simply refused to think of it.

Far, far away under his feet, under the artificial ground filled with humming machinery, under the protective field and the metallic tail, under the rustle of life in the laboratories and housing areas, the desolated wasteland only spoke of the world that once had been, and never of the world that could be again.