The Door to the Planet Surface
By J.F. Slade
“You should be getting home,” said Gary. “Tomorrow’s a big day.”
Janet looked up from her desk in her darkened office, surrounded by ancient technology flickering in its minimal capacity. Her younger partner was well intentioned, though sometimes naïve. If going home were an option, Janet would already be there. Al hated when she worked late. He claimed there was nothing to do now that the kids were grown.
“I’m going to run another systems check first. I don’t want any hiccups tomorrow.”
“Why? We know they work. Everything came back perfect this morning.”
“Because it’s my job, Gary, and I’m not about to be the person who didn’t double check her work and ruined everything.”
Gary was an adequate engineer, but he never fully embraced the importance of his position in the community. The colony entrusted them with their very survival. It was an honorable and distinguished role, and Janet struggled to understand how Gary managed to nab it.
Deep underground, their colony was the last outpost of the human species. A fully sustainable operation, they had survived for 5000 years below the surface of the earth. There they waited until the planet recovered from the nuclear winter and life once again thrived. Tomorrow was the day it all came to fruition. Tomorrow, they would open the door.
Janet swiped through the illuminated screen to run a diagnostic. Stories were long told about the flashier skills the computer once displayed, but its function had grown increasingly limited over the years. Still, she could run simple processes and cover a lot of ground she would otherwise have to do manually.
“You’re seriously going to just hang out here while that thing runs?”
“You can go home, Gary,” said Janet. “No one is forcing you to stay here. If we open that door and one thing isn’t aligned, we could compromise the integrity of the entire system.”
He sighed and sat down in his chair, stretching out his arms in mild frustration.
“We’ve been prepping for this for years, but if it gives you peace of mind, I will stay and help. We’ll go through each piece bit by bit. Again.”
Janet mumbled a “thank you” and before returning to the screen. It’s not that she minded the assistance from Gary, but his reluctance was off-putting. Building a new settlement in an uncontrolled world was going to be a challenge none of them were prepared for. They would still need the underground as a base of operations.
The monitor fizzled in and out of function. Pieces of the colony map were darkened and fuzzy, demanding the experience of a discerning eye. No one could read the maps like Janet. No one could spot what she managed to.
“There’s something wrong,” she said eventually, after refreshing the protocol multiple times.
“No, there isn’t.” Gary didn’t bother to look up from his desk. His boredom seeped into his voice with an irritating sting.
A black spot blocked her image of the door. It was one interference among many, but a new one. This was an anomaly. “I’m going to check it out. Stay on your radio.”
She grabbed her intercom and a flashlight, not waiting for an affirmation. Whatever the problem was, she would fix it faster without the distraction of Gary. She made it far down the corridor before she heard the buzz of her intercom.
“I’ve isolated the location on the monitor and synced it with your marker. I can help guide you there.”
Janet smiled before muttering a small “thanks.” She had memorized long ago the twisting pipes and tubes of the air filtration system, and his guidance was far from necessary.
The whole system ran on pressure: the pressure of the air intake and the pressure of the air output. The circulation not only kept them breathing, but also powered the colony's machinery and technology. It depended on living breathing people maintaining that flow of air. The circulation system itself was powered by geothermal energy, and the two combined created a perfect and compact renewable energy source. If something was wrong with the circulation, not only would the system shut down, but the door wouldn't open either. They would be stuck underground with limited power.
She once tried to explain to Al the delicate nature of the system, and he stared at her in complete confusion. She had learned the system from her father. She was raised fixing and tinkering with various vents and pipes, and she was more devoted to it than Gary could ever understand. Al used to joke that the pipes were her real children, a sentiment that probably had more truth than it should have.
Janet reached the hatch to the vents and entered her access code. She then put all of her strength into turning the rigid wheel. It screeched as it unlatched, lighting up the once-darkened tunnel.
“Gary, any change on that blip?”
“I’m afraid not.” His hollow voice echoed down the tunnel. “It’s still blacked out.”
She wondered if Al had made her dinner yet, hoping this would be quick.
Her knees ached as she crawled down the tube. She missed her youth when her body didn’t taunt her with arbitrary aches and pains. The cold metal surface of the tunnels was not designed for a woman of her age. She almost wanted there to be something wrong so she could justify her journey.
“You’re getting close,” said Gary after many twists and turns. She suspected he just wanted to remind her that he was involved and being a good partner. They both knew he wasn’t doing anything worthwhile.
One more turn and she was there, pulling the last hatch shut behind her. She could hear Gary breathing into the intercom, oblivious of his microphone switch, but her annoyance was quickly forgotten as she stared at a contraption that had no business being here: a protruding metal box in a vent that should have been empty.
“There’s something here.” Her voice stuttered from her nerves.
“What do you mean? Is one of the pipes cracked?”
She knelt beside the box and ran her hand along the haphazard craftsmanship. It was built into the vent, twisting around the pipes of the tunnel wall. This was no colony-sponsored contraption. This device was something else. There weren't any lights or a display screen, but whatever motor inside it purred at her presence.
“I think it’s a bomb,” she said.
Gary was silent a moment before speaking: “Janet, you’ve got to get out of there. I’m calling security.”
“You can’t,” she answered almost instinctively.
“What do you mean?” His voice transitioned from scared to anger or disbelief.
“Gary, only two groups have access to this hatch: us and the police, and we don’t have the tools to make this unless you have something to confess.”
“This is insane,” he muttered.
She knew Gary had nothing to do with it. He would never build anything so crude, and the device was clearly constructed out of materials that only the police chief could access. Explosives for mining purposes had been banned long ago for safety reasons.
“What are you going to do?”
"Try to disarm it," she answered.
“And if it goes off?” He was shocked, clearly not agreeing with her.
“Better now than when the entire colony is standing below, waiting for the door to open.”
"How could someone do this?" He was so sincere and naive. Political unrest about the return to the surface had been growing for years. Many believed that humanity had lost their right to live on the surface when they put the Earth into a nuclear winter. They thought it the colony's responsibility to stay underground. This was an act of desperate measure: a last-ditch effort to stop the door from opening, even if it meant endangering the entire colony. They would sacrifice themselves to save the planet.
Janet carefully examined the device. As far as she could tell, it was rigged to blow against one of the air output valves near the door. It would overload the circuits, rendering the door useless and damage the airflow for the entire colony. Nothing would be cleaning the air. They would be stuck down here, scrambling to breathe.
Janet lifted the cover of the device. She knew enough to know that she was screwed.
“Gary, did you ever watch any old movies where when they were diffusing a bomb, they would cut the green wire?”
“Yeah,” he answered with a shaky voice.
“There aren’t any wires,” she said. “I haven’t the foggiest idea on how to stop this.”
She clicked back on the cover and sat there in defeat, as the bomb temporarily hummed louder. Janet froze.
“It appears to be very sensitive to motion.”
“That would make sense,” said Gary. “That vent doesn’t normally have a lot of circulation going through it, but tomorrow…”
"Tomorrow the room below will be packed full as people wait for the door to open. That's a lot of air."
Janet closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall of the tunnel. Trying to picture something: some sort of solution.
“I guess this means moving it is out of the question,” said Gary.
“We wouldn’t be able to anyway. It’s connected to the output valve. I wouldn’t be able to move it without damaging the pipe.”
“Janet, I don’t care if it was the police chief who did this. We’ve got to call for help.”
She didn’t say anything. Instead, she pulled herself back up to a crawl and moved towards the hatch. Then the machine got louder. She froze, waiting for it to slow back down, but it didn’t.
“Gary, I don’t think I can leave. I think I’ve activated it.”
“I’m calling for help,” he said in a hurried tone.
Janet stared at the contraption in front of her. How quickly had everything changed. “Gary, if anyone comes in here, that thing blows. If I move, it blows. It's rigged to the output valve, so it will take out all of our power, right?”
“Yes, but Janet…”
“What if we reverse the airflow? Could we shift the direction of the blast?”
“Janet, that will set that thing off immediately.”
But she didn’t have to explain: he was with her. He muttered, “Hold on,” and immediately started working.
“Okay, on your mark,” he said. “Janet, please run.”
Janet thought about Al and her kids. She thought about the colony and Gary. Mostly though she thought about the sky. She would have liked to have seen the sky.
“Go.”
The murmur of the air in the background stopped, and then it started pumping again. Janet immediately crawled as fast as she could for the hatch, but she wasn’t fast enough.
Janet looked up from her desk in her darkened office, surrounded by ancient technology flickering in its minimal capacity. Her younger partner was well intentioned, though sometimes naïve. If going home were an option, Janet would already be there. Al hated when she worked late. He claimed there was nothing to do now that the kids were grown.
“I’m going to run another systems check first. I don’t want any hiccups tomorrow.”
“Why? We know they work. Everything came back perfect this morning.”
“Because it’s my job, Gary, and I’m not about to be the person who didn’t double check her work and ruined everything.”
Gary was an adequate engineer, but he never fully embraced the importance of his position in the community. The colony entrusted them with their very survival. It was an honorable and distinguished role, and Janet struggled to understand how Gary managed to nab it.
Deep underground, their colony was the last outpost of the human species. A fully sustainable operation, they had survived for 5000 years below the surface of the earth. There they waited until the planet recovered from the nuclear winter and life once again thrived. Tomorrow was the day it all came to fruition. Tomorrow, they would open the door.
Janet swiped through the illuminated screen to run a diagnostic. Stories were long told about the flashier skills the computer once displayed, but its function had grown increasingly limited over the years. Still, she could run simple processes and cover a lot of ground she would otherwise have to do manually.
“You’re seriously going to just hang out here while that thing runs?”
“You can go home, Gary,” said Janet. “No one is forcing you to stay here. If we open that door and one thing isn’t aligned, we could compromise the integrity of the entire system.”
He sighed and sat down in his chair, stretching out his arms in mild frustration.
“We’ve been prepping for this for years, but if it gives you peace of mind, I will stay and help. We’ll go through each piece bit by bit. Again.”
Janet mumbled a “thank you” and before returning to the screen. It’s not that she minded the assistance from Gary, but his reluctance was off-putting. Building a new settlement in an uncontrolled world was going to be a challenge none of them were prepared for. They would still need the underground as a base of operations.
The monitor fizzled in and out of function. Pieces of the colony map were darkened and fuzzy, demanding the experience of a discerning eye. No one could read the maps like Janet. No one could spot what she managed to.
“There’s something wrong,” she said eventually, after refreshing the protocol multiple times.
“No, there isn’t.” Gary didn’t bother to look up from his desk. His boredom seeped into his voice with an irritating sting.
A black spot blocked her image of the door. It was one interference among many, but a new one. This was an anomaly. “I’m going to check it out. Stay on your radio.”
She grabbed her intercom and a flashlight, not waiting for an affirmation. Whatever the problem was, she would fix it faster without the distraction of Gary. She made it far down the corridor before she heard the buzz of her intercom.
“I’ve isolated the location on the monitor and synced it with your marker. I can help guide you there.”
Janet smiled before muttering a small “thanks.” She had memorized long ago the twisting pipes and tubes of the air filtration system, and his guidance was far from necessary.
The whole system ran on pressure: the pressure of the air intake and the pressure of the air output. The circulation not only kept them breathing, but also powered the colony's machinery and technology. It depended on living breathing people maintaining that flow of air. The circulation system itself was powered by geothermal energy, and the two combined created a perfect and compact renewable energy source. If something was wrong with the circulation, not only would the system shut down, but the door wouldn't open either. They would be stuck underground with limited power.
She once tried to explain to Al the delicate nature of the system, and he stared at her in complete confusion. She had learned the system from her father. She was raised fixing and tinkering with various vents and pipes, and she was more devoted to it than Gary could ever understand. Al used to joke that the pipes were her real children, a sentiment that probably had more truth than it should have.
Janet reached the hatch to the vents and entered her access code. She then put all of her strength into turning the rigid wheel. It screeched as it unlatched, lighting up the once-darkened tunnel.
“Gary, any change on that blip?”
“I’m afraid not.” His hollow voice echoed down the tunnel. “It’s still blacked out.”
She wondered if Al had made her dinner yet, hoping this would be quick.
Her knees ached as she crawled down the tube. She missed her youth when her body didn’t taunt her with arbitrary aches and pains. The cold metal surface of the tunnels was not designed for a woman of her age. She almost wanted there to be something wrong so she could justify her journey.
“You’re getting close,” said Gary after many twists and turns. She suspected he just wanted to remind her that he was involved and being a good partner. They both knew he wasn’t doing anything worthwhile.
One more turn and she was there, pulling the last hatch shut behind her. She could hear Gary breathing into the intercom, oblivious of his microphone switch, but her annoyance was quickly forgotten as she stared at a contraption that had no business being here: a protruding metal box in a vent that should have been empty.
“There’s something here.” Her voice stuttered from her nerves.
“What do you mean? Is one of the pipes cracked?”
She knelt beside the box and ran her hand along the haphazard craftsmanship. It was built into the vent, twisting around the pipes of the tunnel wall. This was no colony-sponsored contraption. This device was something else. There weren't any lights or a display screen, but whatever motor inside it purred at her presence.
“I think it’s a bomb,” she said.
Gary was silent a moment before speaking: “Janet, you’ve got to get out of there. I’m calling security.”
“You can’t,” she answered almost instinctively.
“What do you mean?” His voice transitioned from scared to anger or disbelief.
“Gary, only two groups have access to this hatch: us and the police, and we don’t have the tools to make this unless you have something to confess.”
“This is insane,” he muttered.
She knew Gary had nothing to do with it. He would never build anything so crude, and the device was clearly constructed out of materials that only the police chief could access. Explosives for mining purposes had been banned long ago for safety reasons.
“What are you going to do?”
"Try to disarm it," she answered.
“And if it goes off?” He was shocked, clearly not agreeing with her.
“Better now than when the entire colony is standing below, waiting for the door to open.”
"How could someone do this?" He was so sincere and naive. Political unrest about the return to the surface had been growing for years. Many believed that humanity had lost their right to live on the surface when they put the Earth into a nuclear winter. They thought it the colony's responsibility to stay underground. This was an act of desperate measure: a last-ditch effort to stop the door from opening, even if it meant endangering the entire colony. They would sacrifice themselves to save the planet.
Janet carefully examined the device. As far as she could tell, it was rigged to blow against one of the air output valves near the door. It would overload the circuits, rendering the door useless and damage the airflow for the entire colony. Nothing would be cleaning the air. They would be stuck down here, scrambling to breathe.
Janet lifted the cover of the device. She knew enough to know that she was screwed.
“Gary, did you ever watch any old movies where when they were diffusing a bomb, they would cut the green wire?”
“Yeah,” he answered with a shaky voice.
“There aren’t any wires,” she said. “I haven’t the foggiest idea on how to stop this.”
She clicked back on the cover and sat there in defeat, as the bomb temporarily hummed louder. Janet froze.
“It appears to be very sensitive to motion.”
“That would make sense,” said Gary. “That vent doesn’t normally have a lot of circulation going through it, but tomorrow…”
"Tomorrow the room below will be packed full as people wait for the door to open. That's a lot of air."
Janet closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall of the tunnel. Trying to picture something: some sort of solution.
“I guess this means moving it is out of the question,” said Gary.
“We wouldn’t be able to anyway. It’s connected to the output valve. I wouldn’t be able to move it without damaging the pipe.”
“Janet, I don’t care if it was the police chief who did this. We’ve got to call for help.”
She didn’t say anything. Instead, she pulled herself back up to a crawl and moved towards the hatch. Then the machine got louder. She froze, waiting for it to slow back down, but it didn’t.
“Gary, I don’t think I can leave. I think I’ve activated it.”
“I’m calling for help,” he said in a hurried tone.
Janet stared at the contraption in front of her. How quickly had everything changed. “Gary, if anyone comes in here, that thing blows. If I move, it blows. It's rigged to the output valve, so it will take out all of our power, right?”
“Yes, but Janet…”
“What if we reverse the airflow? Could we shift the direction of the blast?”
“Janet, that will set that thing off immediately.”
But she didn’t have to explain: he was with her. He muttered, “Hold on,” and immediately started working.
“Okay, on your mark,” he said. “Janet, please run.”
Janet thought about Al and her kids. She thought about the colony and Gary. Mostly though she thought about the sky. She would have liked to have seen the sky.
“Go.”
The murmur of the air in the background stopped, and then it started pumping again. Janet immediately crawled as fast as she could for the hatch, but she wasn’t fast enough.
Gary heard the blast from their office, as the lights and console immediately switched off.
“Janet…”
But there was no answer. There would be no answer.
He stood there frozen for several minutes before he found the will to move. He grabbed a flashlight from his desk drawer and went outside, towards the blast and towards the door. People were gathering around it and staring in awe.
The air pressure from the valve had blown open the door. They were looking at the sky.
“Janet…”
But there was no answer. There would be no answer.
He stood there frozen for several minutes before he found the will to move. He grabbed a flashlight from his desk drawer and went outside, towards the blast and towards the door. People were gathering around it and staring in awe.
The air pressure from the valve had blown open the door. They were looking at the sky.