Chapter 8: Lucky

The one thing that no-one really mentioned much was oxygen – that was, until it was too late.  But of course, it was just simple logic.  Plants make oxygen.  Kill the plants – oxygen levels start to drop.

Or, as it happened, oxygen levels start to plummet.

Perhaps this was news that was just too bad to share.  No way to put a positive spin on that one!  But Brent sure wished someone had told us.  Things were bad enough, but once the oceans died off (aquatic plant life, by then, giving us some 70% of our oxygen) then it was only a matter of a few months before the apocalypse finally arrived.

Brent was lucky.  Or, should we say, he cheated death for a while.  Needless to say, when the oxygen issue finally sunk in, the manufacturers of oxygen tanks and breathing equipment went into overdrive.  Well, at least for a few months, before the end of everything.

Brent just so happened to be passing a warehouse storing this stuff when a building collapsed nearby.  He ran inside and luckily the place stayed up, but Brent was buried under rubble.

Staggering around in the dark for a while, he eventually found a flashlight.  After several hours of picking around, he had to acknowledge there was no way he would be able to dig his way out of there.  Meanwhile, breathing was getting difficult.  He found the tanks of oxygen and the masks and figured out how they worked.And he was lucky enough to find some food – quite a lot of food.  Perhaps the place was stockpiling stuff in anticipation of what everyone knew was going to happen.  Brent didn’t know.  But anyway, Brent felt he was lucky.  He sat down to wait to see if he’d be rescued.

Well, there wasn’t really much chance of a rescue.  After 12 days or so, Brent decided help wasn’t coming.  But still, he had hope.  He set about exploring and gathering up all the stuff that was worth keeping so that it was close at hand.  He found a few more flashlights, plus candles and matches, but sooner or later he’d be in pitch dark.  It was only a question of which would run out first – the light or the oxygen.  And of course there comes a point when matches won’t strike and candles won’t burn – they need oxygen too.

After a few more days, Brent had done an inventory and made some calculations.  About 100 days of oxygen.  The food and the light would last longer.  So he would probably die gasping for air rather than starving or driven mad by darkness.

Nice.  Was it worth staying alive?

Well, I’m a resilient guy, Brent thought.  He’d try hanging on until the end.

A few days later there was a faint buzzing noise from somewhere outside.  But then, back to silence.

…

‘Check the scan again.’

This was the dome’s commander, issuing orders.  Dome 39, as it was called.  One of a number of experiments thrown up in the last days in order to try to create a sealed atmosphere with enough plant life inside to provide oxygen for a few humans, plus some small animals, insects, birds and the rest.  All species carefully chosen to create a balanced eco-system.

There had been precedents of course.  Bio-domes on Earth for decades back.  But they hadn’t worked out too well.  Either everything started dying off, or it was necessary to ‘cheat’ and bring in some air and water from the outside.  Or else, sealed inside, the human community would go slowly insane and start fighting amongst themselves.

The whole bio-dome thing had only really taken off once Mars colonies got going.  And at last, it looked like, technically, it had been cracked.  The only problem remaining was the humans going mad bit.

Even so, you had to wonder if Mars was not actually better off now than Earth.  No apocalypse for them.  And at least the colonists had a few years experience of living in domes.  There was contact with them still, for what it was worth.  But whether any space ships would make it between the two planets any time soon, was anyone’s guess.

‘Definitely a sign there.’  This is Clara, who’s running the scans.  A search drone is sending back a message about a heat source from the industrial zone.  Could it be something alive, after so many weeks?

‘Okay, send in a digger.  We’ll try bringing them in’, says the commander.

Only a few survivors had been found, in the aftermath of the End, as it was mostly referred to now.  In a away, just as well.  The three square kilometres of abundant forest, pools, gardens and greenhouses nestled beneath Dome 39 could only support about seven humans.  And there were five of them now, in total.

Piles of rubble, in a great circle around the dome, act as a partial defence.  Clara now sends instructions to a robot digger that needs to clamber over this heap of debris before it can even begin its trek to the industrial zone and the source of the heat signal.  It might take days, but there was no other option.  No drones left, big enough to lift the digger and fly it to its destination.  And of course, no helicopters, planes or anything else that would allow a human to go in person.

The digger has its instructions.  It trundles off.

…

Day 101.  The flashlights and candles didn’t last as long as Brent had hoped.  He’d been in darkness now for ten days, and of course, the oxygen had run out.  He’d taken to drinking, to try to ward off the struggle to breathe.  It probably made things worse.  But he’s mostly so far gone it doesn’t matter anymore.

Then, an ear-piercing sound.  It’s only a few feet away.  Drilling!

It seems to go on for eternity.  But then, at last, the noise stops.  There’s blinding light and scratching, whirring sounds to follow.  Something has broken in, like an enormous dog, with headlamps for eyes and drill-bits for teeth.  Somehow it manages to clamp a mask over Brent’s face.  He’s flooded with 100% oxygen.  He passes out.

…

‘We got him, sir!’  Clara, with the news.

‘What we got, Clara?’

‘A man.  Middle-aged.  Looks like a drunken bum.’

‘He’s made it through hell somehow.’

‘Coming back in the digger’s trailer now sir.  Five days’ journey, all being well.’

…

Daylight.  Brent had woken up in some kind of wheelbarrow, bumping along through piles of rubble – some of it smouldering.  But at least there was a sky!

Grey sky, just a dull, blank grey.  He can’t even tell where the sun might be.  And cold!

Brent thinks about trying to stand up and perhaps jump off the trailer.  But obviously there’s no place to go.  He has the mask and there’s a huge pile of tanks in front of him, all hooked up somehow, so that, presumably, the gas keeps flowing.  He can’t even see what’s pulling them along.

The journey goes on and on, but luckily there’s food and water in the trailer.  Brent eats and drinks between gasps.  Each day the same blank sky.  Each day, on the road to somewhere, across heaps of rubble.  Whatever pulls the trailer is picking its way carefully, finding places where it doesn’t need to climb too steeply, or descend too sharply.  Brent tries calling out to see if it’s a person up there somewhere, in a vehicle, pulling the trailer along.  But no reply.  Eventually he gets a glimpse as they turn a corner.  It’s the robot digger that’s pulling him.  They plough on through the night.

All this time, in the trailer, Brent’s thinking, how come no-one is around?  Okay, so the city’s a total ruin, but, no-one?  Absolutely no-one?  Maybe they’d made it somewhere.  Maybe.  But it was suspicious nonetheless.

But now, the digger with Brent in tow seems to be arriving somewhere.  One of those domes they built looms ahead.  Look’s like that’s where they’re headed.

…

‘Bringing him in now, sir.’

‘Thank you, Clara.’

The commander walks over to the multiple complex of doors that seal Dome 39 from the outside world.  He makes his way through them and stands in the last room that still holds air.

The doors on the other side have opened and slammed shut and then finally the intervening door opens and the digger and its cargo come through.

A man lies in the trailer, filthy, exhausted and dripping blood.  But alive.

‘Welcome to Dome 39’, the commander says, and shakes the man’s hand.  ‘You made it.’

…

Something about the guy that welcomes me, Brent thinks.  Something he doesn’t like.  He’s not sure if this dome is really a safe place.  But, he guesses, he’ll find out soon enough.