Life and Death in the Abyss
by Daniel Crépault
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Table of Contents parts 1, 2, 3 |
part 2
As Jonas neared his quarters, he could see the light coming through the fogged safety glass of the kitchen porthole, which meant Margareta was still awake. He lingered outside the hatch a moment, trying to collect his thoughts, unable to get the topsiders out of his mind. Now that the adrenaline of the arrest and interrogation was wearing off, he kept seeing their haunting stares and hearing their desperate pleas for help. The horrors they’d survived were written on their faces, etched into the smallpox scars on their skin.
New vaccine-resistant strains of the smallpox virus had been emerging for decades, triggering wave after wave of pandemics that had killed millions worldwide. The constant, often losing battle against sickness and death had eroded social fabrics, leading to accelerated de-civilization in many parts of the world. That brought a variety of additional horrors into people’s lives, like famine, civil war, and economic collapse.
The fortunate few who survived these pandemics, their bodies building a natural immunity to the virus, were often left with permanent health complications like chronic inflammation, lung infections, or even blindness. Recognizing the danger early, Poseidon’s board of directors used the Corporation as a life raft, channelling all its subsea mining resources to develop Challenger Deep and two other stations to save themselves, their families and employees.
Other corporations and governments had taken a similar strategy, creating biospheres underground, underwater, or in orbit that they hoped would shield them from the virus. The topsiders, like millions of others, hadn’t had the good fortune to be employed by Poseidon when the pandemic arrived.
Jonas placed his palm on the control, and the hatchway opened with a hiss. He found Margareta standing in the kitchen, wiping the counter with a rag. He walked up behind her, circled her waist with his arms, and kissed her neck, which smelled faintly of lavender soap and engine grease.
“Hi, Margie.”
“Hi. I thought you were just going out for a drink after work. Why are you home so late?”
“It’s a long story.” Jonas watched her wipe the counter with broad sweeping motions, even though it looked spotless.
“Yeah?” She continued without looking at him, absorbed in her task.
Compulsive cleaning was one of her quirks. It told Jonas that she was stressed or worried. She must know something, he thought.
Jonas walked to the water recycler, placed a cup underneath the tap, and turned the handle. According to Poseidon Corp, their proprietary reverse osmosis and remineralization processes made the densely polluted waters of the Pacific Ocean safe to drink. But even after all these years, Jonas hadn’t gotten used to its cloudy appearance or tannic taste. He sat at the counter, sipping slowly and watching Margareta. “Did you hear about what happened in the Dining Hall?”
She continued to wipe the same spot on the counter. “About what?”
“The topsiders.”
Margareta gave a slight but perceptible sigh. “Jonas, I can’t talk to you about that stuff. I’d lose my security clearance if anyone knew I’d breathed a word of what I see or hear in the Operations Centre. And you know what would happen if I lost my security clearance.” She paused momentarily and then continued, speaking each word slowly and deliberately. “We’d both lose our jobs.”
“Come on. You can trust me,” Jonas said, smiling to reassure her.
She put down the spoon, her shoulders slumped, and Jonas saw she was on the verge of tears.
The smile disappeared from his face. “What’s wrong?” He walked around the counter and took her into his arms. Instinctively, she buried her face in his chest. Jonas could feel warm tears dampen his shirt.
After a long moment, Margareta turned her head but didn’t look up at him. “They killed them,” she whispered.
The words sent a chill through Jonas. “What do you mean?”
“The intruders are dead. Security staff killed them. And they made me help them...” The sentence died away with a croak as if she were choking on words she couldn’t utter.
“Help them what?” Jonas felt himself go rigid.
She swallowed hard and tried again to speak the words. “They made me help them hide the evidence.”
“That doesn’t make sense. How? And why you? You can’t exactly hide a body...” A sickening feeling came over him. “Oh God, Margareta, please don’t tell me they used the tubes.”
She flinched and buried her face in her hands, sobs racking her slight frame. Margareta had helped design the biosphere’s system for disposing of biological waste. She’d explained its workings to Jonas back in Vilnius, excited and breathlessly describing each complex engineering challenge her team had overcome to make it work reliably without scuttling the station. “It’s like launching a torpedo,” she’d said. “Stuff is placed into a chamber through an inner door. A technician releases the air, slowly brings water in, and equalizes the chamber to the pressure outside. Then, a technician opens the outer doors and ejects the tube’s contents into the water outside.”
That was what had been done to two human beings. The memory of Margareta’s explanation, full of maternal pride in her team’s achievements, filled him with horror. “Did they make you do it? Did they make you jettison those two?”
“Yes!” She was shaking now, arms tightly wrapped around herself.
“Why? Answer me!”
Margareta drew her knees up to her chest. Jonas waited a few moments before speaking again, allowing some calm to return. “What happened, exactly?”
“I was working the night shift in the Operations Centre. An exec came in and asked who the senior engineer on call was. I told him I was, and he told me to go with him.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. No one I recognized. He brought me down to the jettison room. There were three or four security staff just standing around. The one in charge asked me to empty the tubes. The whole thing felt wrong.”
“Did you check what was in the tubes?”
“They wouldn’t let me. I told them I needed to do my pre-evacuation check. The one closest to the access hatch blocked me and said he’d already done it. All I could see through the porthole were two big biodegradable waste bags.”
“So, how do you know it was the topsiders?”
“I told you. The whole thing was sketchy. There is no reason for an executive to take an interest in waste removal, much less get involved. And the fact that the security guys wouldn’t let me check what was in the tubes was suspicious. I’d heard about the intruders, so I put two and two together.”
“So, you trashed them? Just like that?”
“I didn’t have a choice! I didn’t want to lose my job and get us both fired!”
Several minutes passed. Jonas stared down at his feet, unsure what to say. “I’m sorry,” he said finally.
“It’s me who’s sorry.” Her eyes were swollen, and red-rimmed.
“You were in an impossible situation.” Jonas understood her fear and knew how it could make a person willing to do the unimaginable. In Vilnius, he’d once seen a group of neighbours beating a man to death for stealing food. He’d passed by as quickly as possible, hoping not to be seen for fear they’d force him to join in to prove his loyalty to the community. Every day since then, Jonas had reproached himself for his cowardice. Looking at Margareta’s face, he saw the same spectre of guilt and shame taking hold in her, too. He reached for her, pulling her into an embrace.
Their nighttime ritual took place as it had for thirty years of marriage. They went through the motions in silence tonight, each weighed down by the burdens of guilt and self-recrimination they carried. Margareta applied her face cream and set her alarm. Jonas brushed his teeth, staring at his reflection in the mirror. The fluorescent bulb overhead set every crease and wrinkle in stark relief. I’ve gotten old, he thought.
They climbed into bed, meeting in the middle and holding each other. The room was silent except for the ever-present hum of the biosphere’s life-support systems and the groaning torque of metal as the deep continued its tireless effort to crush the station. These sounds were a constant reminder that life was always in a delicate balance down here. Jonas reached for the night table and turned off the light, enveloping the room in darkness.
* * *
The next morning, Jonas was assigned to clean the desalination plant. Everyone — all but the most skilled or connected employees — did double duty, working at their vocation and contributing to the maintenance of the biosphere through various mundane quotidian tasks. That day, Jonas was one of two people assigned to clean the intake filters and scrub the stainless steel tanks that supplied what passed for drinking water. It was nasty work that covered him in a foul-smelling bacterial sludge by the end of the day. But he was used to it, and it wasn’t even the most disgusting or odious task a low-ranking employee like him could be assigned. The work in the desalination plant was routine, requiring no concentration whatsoever, and he found his mind wandering back to the topsiders, Einarsson, and his conversation with Margareta.
She said she hadn’t recognized any of the security staff, which didn’t make sense. The Challenger Deep station wasn’t a sprawling metropolis. Everyone in the station went to the commissary, used the same exercise facilities and recreation decks, and worked together daily. Even if you didn’t want to, it was impossible not to become familiar with the people you encountered so often.
He knew in his gut that Margareta had lied to him but didn’t know why. He went through the motions and waited like a coiled spring under tension for his shift to end. When it did, Jonas headed straight for the residential zone where he and Margareta lived. To save time, he cut through the hydroponic installation, passing rows of green kale and spiky purple dracaenas and dodging tables of chess players and loiterers.
When he reached the top of the steps leading up to their apartment block, Jonas’s lungs were burning, and he took huge gulps of air, trying to catch his breath. Margareta wasn’t home yet. Going into their bedroom, Jonas found her tablet and punched in her password, hoping her recent messages would offer some answers. After a few minutes of scrolling, he found one message that caught his eye. It was an email thread between Margareta and SNRVPOP, which Jonas recognized as a shorthand for Mark Sunderland, the senior vice president of operations. Glancing behind him at the entry hatch, Jonas opened the email. It read:
Margareta,Corporate policy is clear in these cases. The safety of the station must come first. These decisions are never easy, but you did the right thing. You’ll need to come by first thing tomorrow for a debrief.
Mark Sunderland
Jonas scrolled down to see more of their conversation. The previous message had been from Margareta:
Mark,There was a problem tonight: a security breach in the mid-level. Someone must have tampered with the scanners at the docking hatch. Einarsson is investigating, but it will take time. I followed the new directive and sent them into the black.
Margareta
Jonas’s heart hammered as he read and reread the email. Margareta had admitted her guilt to him the day before. But she’d said she was forced into it and that she’d had no other choice. But this email suggested something else altogether.
He heard the hatch open as Margareta arrived, and a moment later, her bag landed on the table. He went out to meet her, red-faced, his hands trembling as he held out the tablet.
Her face registered concern. “Jonas? What’s wrong?”
“What really happened with those two topsiders? You lied to me, Margareta. I read your message to Mark. You sent those two into the black. Those are your words, and it was your choice.”
Margareta winced as if she’d been struck and sat down on the couch. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Then tell me what it was like. Please. Why did you do this?”
She looked up and their eyes met. He watched her expression as something shattered inside of her. Words and tears welled and flowed freely. “I was scared,” she said, her voice breaking. “It was us or them. I did what I had to do. It was either that or risk the whole station.”
Jonas forced himself to take deep, slow breaths. He sat down and took her hand. “We can figure this out together, but you’re going to have to trust me.”
“You don’t understand.” Margareta let go of his hand and bolted off the couch, startling Jonas. “This isn’t just about a couple of intruders.” He watched her go through a series of frantic motions as she paced the tiny room, rubbing the back of her neck, then turning her wedding ring over and over. “I feel bad about what I did to those two, and I know I’ll regret what I did for the rest of my life. But I can’t let myself focus on it right now. Someone is trying to sabotage our systems, and we don’t know how or why. We’re all in danger, the whole station.”
“What are you talking about? Start from the beginning.” Jonas’s heart was racing now.
“Someone infected the biosphere’s computers with a virus.”
“How? I thought the whole point of having our own internal network down here was to protect us from cyberattacks.”
“That’s right. But whoever did this introduced the virus directly, using a quantum drive. All someone would have to do is plug it into one of our computer terminals, and the virus does the rest.”
Jonas’s palms were sweating as he remembered the small black cube on the night of his arrest and his confusion at finding it empty. “Do they know who did it?”
“Einarsson questioned the intruders, and they admitted they were paid to bring the drive down here and install it, but they say they lost it and never got the chance to use it.”
“Who hired them?”
“They didn’t know. Contact was made online, and they received the drive and their money by dead-drop. We still don’t know which computer terminal they used or where the drive is. The virus has been replicating itself throughout our intranet. It’s been found on terminals in the Medical Bay, Engineering, Life Support, and public terminals in various places. And it’s still spreading. Because of that, it will be hard to narrow down where it started.”
Jonas took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “OK, so what does the virus do?”
“The programmers haven’t worked that out yet. The only way they’ve been able to slow it down is by physically disconnecting the infected computers from the network. It could be a key-logger that is tracking keystrokes at different terminals. That would give whoever did this access to many of our internal systems.” Margareta stopped pacing, turning to look out the porthole above the water recycler.
Jonas followed her gaze. Lights outside the porthole illuminated falling “ocean snow,” specks of matter that used to be plants, fish, and other debris drifting down towards the ocean bottom to add to the silt that had been collecting there for millions of years. It was one of the few natural phenomena down here that Jonas found comforting. Watching these flecks swirl and drift through the darkness outside the porthole reminded him of being a young boy and watching snowfalls at night.
He turned back to Margareta. “I still don’t understand why anyone would go to all this trouble.”
“Our technology is valuable,” Margareta said. “A rival mining corporation like Fujimatsu Industries or the Redstone Group might want to cut us out of the market. Or maybe they want our submersible technology for themselves. They are catching up, but ours is still the best.”
Margareta chipped at the blue polish on her thumbnail, sending bright flecks falling to the deck. She turned to look at him. “But there are other possibilities that are even scarier. The virus might be intended to cripple some critical system and scuttle the biosphere.”
Jonas swallowed hard. “Why would anyone want to do that? I thought this whole thing was about industrial espionage.”
Copyright © 2025 by Daniel Crépault
