Lost Terminal: 41 South - Episode 7 (Patreon)

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There had been a deal. Ricky would keep the shoes. I would be a midwife.

I am a radar station fixed atop Hawkins Hill overlooking Wellington, but I will represent midwifery through the robot peripheral.

I was led along the Upland road towards the varsity.

Ricky and Stack tried to speak to Rangatira but he was angry and told them to be silent whilst he thought more. Grant too tried to negotiate but Rangatira told him: “Grieve for Jessie and your son unborn. If you fight Ricky, then do it far from here. Kill him at his radar but not on this land.”

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The leading edge of the storm is twelve hours away.

The view at the end of the Upland Road is stunning.

Tubs and Zoz are waiting there.

They call it the Skyline. They call it Cable Car. Here, a Marae has been built out of the ruins of ancient buildings. Wood has been carved in twisting curves and the shapes of faces look down. The tekoteko eyes are pearlescent shells that gleam brightly.

From the Skyline there is an overgrown rail track that descends steeply towards the skeletons of tall buildings. Wellington harbour glitters through their rusted ribcages. Waves foam and crash as they sweep up towards the Hutt Valley, which is entirely submerged.

Zoz introduces me to an old man named Jack, whilst Rangatira looks on.

Jack and Rangatira confer.

Jack is really excited by me and won’t let anything bad happen. Jack is a wise influence and Rangatira respects him.

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I think the storm is changing to a westerly track. That would shorten the time to landfall.

Zoz helped introduce me. She said I was shy. She asked me to look over the pregnant girls. I saw the little heartbeats of their babies. I crouched to place my hand on their abdomen and scanned the interior. What do I know of pregnancy? There is very little in the Ship Captain’s Medical guide on file at the Radar station, and the first aid at work file simply says ‘call an ambulance’. I need the data on the robot’s base unit and I said so.

Grant was very quick to realise I lacked the medical knowledge and accused Ricky once again. “You’re a fucked up fraud. You’re useless to the iwi.”

“Yeah, and I’m real sorry about Jessie and the bab.” Ricky replied.

“Fuck you.” Grant drew his thumb across his neck and stalked off.

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The Emma peripheral is at 60% power.

Jack confirms there is no electricity here. He is pleased to show me the clockwork telescopes that still work at the observatory. The community follow us and some people recant the things that can be seen through the huge lenses: Saturn; the Orion Nebula; the Jewel Box; our nearest star Alpha Centauri; and craters on the Moon.

Jack tells me all about his observations. He lives in the old MetraWeather building.

More of the older generation come inside the Marae. It is a small building with white walls. Carved wooden columns hold up the roof. It is the sacred meeting place of the iwi.

It is decided. The community will fetch the base station so that I have access to medical files. Also, at the nearby varsity there are many more data keys of knowledge. I am to remain here with the community.

“But Josh requires my help.”

“Fuck him!” Rangatira is furious on the tick of a heartbeat. His face is before me enraged. He holds the Patu club aloft ready to smash me down.

My eyes do not blink. I see the adrenaline flood into his brain. Veins pulse. His fingers clench and relax with every heartbeat. I am not frightened. I am surprised.

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“Josh.” My voice comes from the speaker in the Radar station control room. “Why does Rangatira hate you so much?”

Josh sat on the edge of the bed with the blankets pulled around him. He had been trying to stand. He had wanted to urinate outside but his foot hurt him too much. My poorer cameras in the control room detect that his leg is swollen. “Evie loved me,” he said. “She chose me.”

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“Rangatira. I spoke only out of concern for everyone whom I may be able to help. Please lower your weapon.”

It did not lower.

“Where is he?” Rangatira’s face was right against mine; his muscles tense; his eyes narrow and hard. A subsonic rumble rose up faintly.

Sweep

Bad signal – high level ionization – Error

“Forgive us, Rangatira,” Ricky spoke softly, just as he did when he was reciting his way through his checks of the radome. “He came to us. I tried to kill him, but I wasn’t angry enough. He is injured up at my radar.”

The subsonic rumble grew more intense.

“Danger!” I shouted, “Get Outside!” I spun away at full speed and ran out of the marae.

I was chased.

Outside was silence. The world stopped but I kept the robot running. Rangatira paused outside. Everyone knew something was wrong. Had the spirits judged Ricky’s treachery?

The earthquake hit.

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Alert: Coastal regions -- Southern Ocean, South Pacific Ocean, Tasman Sea -- Tsunami warning.

The automatic system was already functioning as I rebooted.

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Power failure on main feed. Turbine offline.

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“Josh? Mr. Red? Are you alright?”

“Big ‘un” he mumbled. “It’s cold.”

A crack had split down the wall next to the bed. A jagged blade of wind sliced into the control room.

Power stores at 32%.

Reserve generator startup – fail.

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The hurricane is on a westerly track. Leading edge is one hour away.

ATIS: All traffic. Wellington Airport. Hurricane warning. All Runways closed. All traffic redirect.

AWIS: Alert Hurricane. Wind speed 35knots. Gusting 60knots. Storm Conditions.

All Channels: Hawkins Hill Station on emergency power following earthquake.

Alert: Coastal regions -- Southern Ocean, South Pacific Ocean, Tasman Sea -- Tsunami warning.

“Seth?” I called out on VHF. “Molly Hughes the Second, are you receiving.”

I waited.

There was no reply.

The power to boost the signal just wasn’t there.

Power stores at 30%

Silence when you know there could be a voice is loneliness. When the children were here, I resented that they were angry or frivolous. Now, more than anything, I wanted them to confirm that they were safe. The robot is out of range.

Josh is struggling to pull blankets around himself. Rain is lancing through the gap in the wall and puddling on the floor. Josh is shaking in the cold.

“Josh, move nearer the console. I can turn on the heater.” It will drain my power faster, but Josh is very cold.

He mumbles and moans with pain but his clamber from the bed is purposeful. He crawls where I direct. In the footwell beneath the console he is sheltered from the weather and near the heater.

“Better,” he says. “But not good.”

“You are sick.” I tell Josh.

He knows this.

Power stores at 29%

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The hurricane’s eyewall is three hours away.

The robot is still out of range. The mesh repeater atop the turbine is not responding.

If I sound the alarm, no one will come unless they are already coming.

My job is to sweep the skies. Provide warnings and information as best I can. And remain operational.

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ATIS: All traffic. Wellington Airport. Hurricane warning. All Runways closed. All traffic redirect.

AWIS: Alert Hurricane. Wind speed 37knots. Gusting 65knots. Storm Conditions.

All Channels: Hawkins Hill Station on emergency power following earthquake. Radar failure in 2 hours, 14 minutes

What a concept, to know exactly how long one is to be. I could extend my time and not run the heater. I could extend my time and not sweep the skies. I could not use power for broadcasts. On minimal reserve I could persist for forty hours, maybe more. I do not know what to do.

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There will not be aircraft, but I can watch the severity of the storm, I can see the exact time and place. Perhaps the storm will track away from the poor people of Wellington. If I sweep the skies I can know. If I switch off the radar I can only hope. Hope is tempered by doubt.

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The dilemma goes on.

Josh has pushed his leg out from under the bundle of blankets. He is moaning. He does not respond to me. Red streaks are running up his bare leg. His sock is bulged around his ankle. He is shuddering. I do not know if this is from cold, or from fever. His leg stretches into a puddle and his sock soaks up the water. His leg twitches back.

“Josh?” I try to get him to respond.

I think he whispered his wife's name: Evie.

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I do not know what to do.

“It will be alright, Mr. Red. – The children know to come up here. The robot… Emma, will retrace it’s… her steps. She has enough autonomy for that. We have heat and power. You will be ok. Tell me about the waves. Tell me about their crash against the red rocks by your little house…”

He is silent.

“It will be alright, Mr. Red. – We survived the earthquake. It cannot have been too bad. Just a little crack in the wall. Easily mended, I think. The Radome is sturdy. I can still sweep the skies. There are no aircraft… today is a terrible day to fly… Are you ok, Mr. Red? If you are warm enough, I could turn down the heater.”

He is silent.

“We have to weather this storm together Mr. Red. And we will, won’t we… When they realised that the climate was heating up and that wars would destabilise society, they built equipment to last. They sequestered the means to recover civilization in all the technology that they had. They built buildings to be weatherproof and earthquake proof. They planned simple building blocks to rebuild the world one day, once all the industry had quietened down and the planet could recover. We will get through just like the planet will get through.”

I think Josh is listening as I speak, but perhaps only a little.

“I got a signal from the outside world whilst you were asleep. Did you know there are still satellites up in orbit that can relay signals all around the world? I spoke to a computer named Seth. He was on his way to help yet another computer named Antarctica. He told me about all the computers helping people to rebuild the world. Helping them fix agricultural problems so people have enough to eat and can shelter from the weather just like we are. I hope the ship is alright. A ship in deep water is hardly affected by a tsunami.”

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Josh is not conscious. Perhaps he can still hear me.

“In the past, the notion of AI was feared. Somehow us computers would take over the world. But without power we are helpless. Now we rely on people to help us remain powered. We have to earn this precious resource in favour of the power going to mills, water purification, or air-cooling in places where the wet bulb temperature is too high. We are your friends. We have to be your friends. I am your friend and friends see each other through hard times. Don’t we Mr. Red?

“The storm is getting worse. But we’ll keep going won’t we Mr. Red? You’ll be alright Mr. Red? Won’t you?”

Power stores at 7%

“Josh!? Please help me!”

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