Pelagic 91 - Three Generations prior

Danelia attended a prestigious school in the capital city of the western shelf. The future mayor of Shelfton’s Deep excelled in school, outshining her peer group and even stumping the teachers now and again. She had a knack for the ‘old continentals’—her treatise on the dark times untangled a web of half-truths and political machinations which predated the great ecological collapse by decades.

But her true academic passion lay beneath the waves. In particular, her own culture of techno-mers. Though she’d opted out of the full-gill treatment, she loved the seas as much as any techno could, and spent her precious free time outside, surfing the big waves. Unlike in eastern regions, the west coast surface was safe to swim, and she enjoyed the ups and downs, not to mention the thrill of deep dives, from the surface to the abyss. There were moments, floating in silence, when she could almost sense something out there. Not dangerous. Just…watching.

There were concerns about such primitives, so she and her friends had to stay a ways out. She never caught sight of them, though she’d heard plenty of ghost-stories. How they’d come crashing into the sea to take a young mergirl straight out of the water, never to be seen again. But most of the students realized that was little more than tall tales.

Though she saw no such monsters, she did catch sight of ancient technology she wished she could’ve gotten a closer look at. Power stations, thought to generate enough juice to drive entire ancient cities, stood rotting along the shores in many a popular surfing region.

Beyond the simple work of her treatise, Danelia was considering a more intensive study. This involved the feasibility of getting some of those power stations up and running again. It had been many decades since the last of their kind had retreated back beneath the waves. It seemed logical to consider alternative power sources. The geo and hydrothermal power they now relied on was good enough, to a point, but their civilization was on the rise, and these limited sources wouldn’t last forever.

They had a hard and fast rule against fossil energy, given how the demise of civilization had played out around their misuse. But wind and solar were safe, well documented, and available to anyone willing to fund an expedition. That plus these mysterious, ancient stations that lined the shores, these behemoths that may have been nuclear, or some sort of sophisticated hybrid—but at any rate might be of great use for any sea dwelllers willing to make a go of it.

Despite her efforts, Danelia was the only one truly interested in those antiquated technologies. There was still a great deal of fear. Society had ‘advanced’, their way was the best and only way. All else was deemed excessive and dangerous.

But Dalelia had heard different stories, of a method of merging the old with the new, ancient wisdom that seemed to come from the sea, wisdom which had saved them, then slipped back beneath the waves. In that sense, these ways were all part of a continuum, with it’s own place and purpose.

There were reasons to revisit these resources, too. They had enough to get by now, yes, but down the road they’d be looking at shortages, and finally collapse. So she persisted. She even proposed a shore excursion, so that the engineers could get a look at the old technologies. Perhaps even attempt to integrate some of it into their usual facilities.

When she got no response from the department head of her school, she took matters into her own hands. With a handful of fellow students along for the ride, Danelia petitioned for shore access, a difficult to obtain privilege few merfolk took advantage of. In fact, only the department of anthropology even accepted such requests, so that was who they went through.

The anthropology people were an interesting lot. They occasionally made near-shore excursions, so they were familiar enough with the ancient power stations in question. They’d not explored them yet, but they knew how to find them. So she’d be heading up with a few of their scholars along with her own friends. One big happy shore-leaving party, and all for the benefit of a technology most everyone refused to have any part in. Danelia was growing accustomed to being on the fringes of society, and she wasn’t yet twenty years old.

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The shore-excursion party numbered eight souls. Five in Danelia’s group, and three others courtesy of the anthropology school. Allowing those bone-collectors into the fold was the only way to compose a full complement, so Danelia had reluctantly allowed them in. They had little use for technology, but were more than willing to explore the structures. They hoped to come across some glove or article of clothing, something worthy of being stuck in a museum. Or a book, even better. There were ancient-text libraries that would kill for a fresh copy of something or other to put on display.

The trip to shore was uneventful, almost tediously so. Strict orders required them to scrub at the first sign of danger—whether it be natives, wildlife, or worst of all blackened vegetation or soil discoloration. Radiation remained the gravest concern, even after so many years.

None of their fears came to pass. The shoreline was barren and cold, and still as a tomb. Any hints of vegetation were far distant, and hardly noteworthy. A solitary tree, a stripped clump of shrubbery. No hint of vibrancy along the entire shore.

The anthropologists were busy at work, scouring the dunes for any sign of human relics. Their excitement was contagious, though Danelia felt an urge to order them back. Struggling to catch a decent breath, she tugged at her wetsuit collar. It was one thing to discuss an excursion in the abstract, but a whole other experience to abandon the safety of home. Then to find a place both familiar and alien at the same time, it was unnerving.

Once the group composed itself and made ready to explore the structure, they first made a survey of the perimeter. There were barriers around the whole of the edifice, though fractured and broken in several spots. Getting inside wouldn’t pose any problem. Danelia’s group had little to do while they looked over the place, though the anthros had a field day picking off bits of metal and material from the fencing.

Finally, they approached the entrance closest to the shore, allowing for a quick escape if needed. Danelia’s colleagues all held light sources, as did Danelia herself, and they lit them up before venturing into the gaping hole in the side of the structure. It looked as though a bomb had gone off, though there was no significant radiation signatures to indicate that was so. It was likely just a symptom of age, though they’d learn more once they got inside.

The place dripped with water damage everywhere one turned, and the dank smell was at once musty and ocean-like. It might almost have felt like a power station at home, if not for the lack of creak-heavy ocean sounds that all true cities had. In place of that, there was an almost lighter-than-air clink-clank sound of wind against the outer walls, vastly more noticeable than what they were accustomed to.

The corridors themselves were dull and utilitarian, offering little in the way of souvenirs for the anthros. As for Danelia’s group, they were there for one reason alone, to get a look at the control center. From there they would determine if further study was warranted, or if the place was so far gone it was beyond any notion of repair.

When they finally got to the large chamber that surely represented the heart of the place, Danelia’s three halted, taking in the measurements and configuration for their report. The anthros had no such compunction to hold back. This place was a virtual treasure-trove of man-made junk. Random tools, clipboards, and personal items were strewn about, occupying just about every workstation. It was so much that they couldn’t handle it all, and set about creating a triage system so they could determine what was essential, and what could be left behind.

None of that mattered to Danelia, who set eyes on exactly what she was after straight away—the main control station. From there the vital functions of this power station were monitored and adjusted, and it was there that she would find the answers to her deepest questions.

The blare of an alarm shocked the eight of them motionless. Overhead, lights flickered and fizzled, casting ghostly shadows in the cavernous space. Later, they would realize that one of the anthros must have tripped the alarm while trying to pry a wedged spanner loose from an emergency-stop mechanism. At the time, though, none of them understood what had gone wrong.

Then came a grinding, frightful screeching noise, and the place lit up with flashing reds and whites that blinded them. Panic set in. Danelia later regretted not ordering them to stay put, at least until she could get a handle on what they were dealing with—and maybe even how to make use of it. But that was hindsight. In the moment, she was just as scared as the others.

They didn’t stop running until they were out of the facility, past the fences, across the beach, and safely beneath the sea.