"Another [[solar flare]]," Meera says. "Strong enough to affect as far south as the Phillipine-Pacific [[plate boundary]]." You groan. "Where every damn cable in the Pacific intersects." Meera nods. "You have ten minutes to [[pack]]." You haven't fully unpacked from the last trip, so there isn't much to add to your bag. Your [[compass]], thermopressure suit, [[microbial oxygen mask]], and underclothes are already inside. The repair tools are already in the sub, and you'll hunt on the way. There's room for one more item: (cycling-link: bind $charm, "A piece of jade, from your grandmother.", "A knife, from your mother.", "The last letter, from her.") Meera leans against the doorframe. "Ready to [[go]]?" Sunspit. Stellar vomit. Coronal mass ejection: an eye prolapsing out of its pupil. "The sun was fixin' to kill us," grandmother said. "We had to go deeper." Meera glances at you. [[Refocus.->Start]]Grinding, gasping. Hard edges. Molten wounds. Meera glances at you. [[Refocus.->Start]]It'll be too dark for phytoplankton-based breathing masks, which are popular in epipelagic settlements. You never liked the sweet taste those leave in your mouth anyway. The slick inner layer bubbles faintly. [[Put it back. ->pack]] More useful for detecting geomagnetic anomalies than actual navigation, now. Earth's magnetic field has been warped, stretched, chewed up, a churning sea layered over the one you live in. You flip it over and run your thumb over the small heart scratched into the metal. [[Put it back.->pack]]You walk into the [[the sub]] and begin preparing to depart, but Meera hangs back in the loading port. You turn around. "You're not coming?" Meera shifts. "The readings are strange. More cable outages popping up, but out of sync with the disturbance peaks. I'll keep an eye on them here." You've only done two solo maintenance missions, both local to the Singapore hub; nothing multi-day like this. You frown. "Check in at the hubstations that are still online. You're [[ready]]."Meera retrofitted the transport sub [[decades ago]], before you became her apprentice. It had been some kind of old military sub, sitting at the bottom of the Taiwan Strait amidst a jumble of rotting fishing vessels, rusting wind turbines, and the remains of one airplane: all useful material. [[Look back at Meera. ->go]] [[Deeper]].She hasn't told you how exactly she found it, but it must have been during her scrap-hunting days; she and her sisters were the sharpest hunters along the South China Sea-floor. "Why did you stop?" you'd asked once. "The scrap will run out eventually," she replied. "No one's producing things at that scale anymore. Better to start doing some kind of maintenance." She winked. "But this way, I still get to explore." [[Look back at Meera. ->go]] <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> Algae farmers terrace the continental slope. [[Deeper.]] <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> The marine snow looks like [[stars]]. [[Deeper ]].The local cable snakes along the ocean floor, nestled comfortably in layers of sediment. You hover the sub a few meters above and follow it northward. Navigation systems are down, but the network of cables form a map that has never failed you. [[Forward]]Most people have only seen the stars in old documentaries, fuzzy and shivering with static, harder and harder to stream from the Central Media Archive as cables break faster than you can repair them. "The surface settlements see them every day," she fumed when you were seventeen. "[[Let's go]]." When you broke the surface, everything burned: your legs from exertion, your skin from acidic water, your lungs from the shock of harsh air. Your hand in hers. In seven minutes, the surface patrol will find you and you will swim for your life. But for now glittering color streaks across the sky. Reflected off of the moon, lethal solar radiation becomes just gentle enough. Her face in non-artificial light for the first time is devastatingly soft. You don't remember much about the [[stars. ->Deeper.]]You reach the first hubstation, dock at a short-term port and connect to the network. [[Check in with Meera.]]"The breakage starts 10 kilometers north," Meera says. "But the network readings are bizarre. Signals popping up where there aren't any cables at all. Something or someone causing interference..." "An earthquake?" Meera grunts. "Keep me updated, turn back if you need to. Stay safe. I trust your judgment." [[Look out the window.]] [[Onward.]]Something looms in the distance. <br> <br> &emsp; &emsp; &emsp; &emsp; [[Closer]] Around the hubstation, a buzz of activity: Crowds pour in and out of mass transit vessels; people haggle fiercely in the scrap markets. In the distance, a pod of whales. [[Onward.]]Frayed ends swaying in the current, sparking in the dark. <br> <br> &emsp; &emsp; &emsp; &emsp; &emsp; &emsp; &emsp; &emsp; &emsp; &emsp; &emsp; &emsp; [[Closer ]]The mass of cables pulses like a dying animal. Sliced into the sides, gashes ooze and bubble. A [[submarine]] is latched to the biggest wound, its teeth sunk into mineral flesh. A makeshift, spliced-together cable winds off to the left. This is not on your map. With your thermopressure suit and oxygen mask, you slip into the water. The water holds you like a mother. The submarine's door has been left unlocked. Inside, you find evidence of collective life: fifteen bunks, playing cards, bottles of seaweed-sugar rum. Strange, sharp tools glint in the dim light, and [[unfamiliar devices]] hum quietly. Fragments of wire and metal drip seawater onto the floor. There is a [[door]] at the back of the room. The control systems, a chair, and a pile of blankets underneath: the captain's quarters. Sticking out from beneath the pillow, you see [[your own handwriting]] on a piece of waterproofed parchment. You'd recognize the material alone anywhere. She had been getting harder and harder to reach; worried about the letter getting damaged, you sealed the paper in fish oil yourself. Most of the words have been burned away, except for two: (bg:white)[____________________________________] (bg:white)[__________________]find (bg:white)[_______________] (bg:white)[_____________]me(bg:white)[_______________] (bg:white)[________________________]?(bg:white)[_____] (bg:white)[____________________________________] [[Tuck it in your pocket.]] [[Put it back.]]Feeling the letter pressed against your thigh, you sit down at the control station. Despite the damage to the cables outside, this sub is somehow, miraculously, connected to the network; you connect your portable communication device, and messages flood in from Meera. //PIRATES. REROUTING THE NETWORK. SURFACE PATROLS AFTER THEM. NOT SAFE. HEAD BACK ASAP - MAY BE YOUR LAST CHANCE. // Outside the window, the makeshift cable weaves into the darkness. You run your thumb over the [[charm]] you brought with you, and make a [[decision]].Feeling your own words staring at you from beneath her pillow, you sit down at the control station. Despite the damage to the cables outside, this sub is somehow, miraculously, connected to the network; you connect your portable communication device, and messages flood in from Meera. //PIRATES. REROUTING THE NETWORK. SURFACE PATROLS COMING. NOT SAFE. HEAD BACK ASAP - MAY BE YOUR LAST CHANCE. // Outside the window, the makeshift cable weaves into the darkness. You run your thumb over the [[charm]] you brought with you, and make a [[decision]].Video feeds flash in and out: (cycling-link: "A shopping mall in the surface bubble.", "Security schedules and maps.", "A view of the stars.") [[Look away. ->submarine]]$charm [[Take a breath. ->decision]][[Report to Meera and return to home station.]] [[Follow the makeshift cable.]]You exit the pirates' submarine and hurry back to your own. Your fingers twitch as you direct your sub to follow the main cable southward, back to the hubstation and then home after that. You think about the lives you've run away from. You think about the life you're trying to build now: maintaining a network, connecting people. Slowly learning how to connect with people again, too. Learning from Meera and her sisters about how to build something that lasts. You think about her, waiting for you in the darkness, or not. [[End]]You exit the pirates' submarine and hurry back to your own, programming it to move ten kilometers south on autopilot; the surface patrols will seize whatever is left here. You swim along the makeshift cable, pressing yourself against it to avoid radar. You feel your pulse in your ears. Blinking lights of descending patrol vessels fill the water above, and you think of the stars. Perhaps you never really stopped following her, no matter how hard you tried. This time, instead of swimming up to the sky, you move towards an unknown direction. [[End]] [[Restart->Start]]