Chapter 16: Breakthrough

“I see it!” Bluejay said, his voice coming through distorted on Xipa’s helmet radio. “Damn, what a sight. It looks a hell of a lot bigger from the ground.”

She hurriedly switched to his camera feed, blowing up the window to get a higher resolution view. Rising above the reds, browns, and oranges of the autumn canopy in the distance was the city wall – a massive edifice that towered some two hundred meters into the sky. No longer pristine, weather and time had stained it, the dark streaks from decades of water spilling down its face making it look like a failing dam. It was still wholly intact – Valbaran engineering could probably withstand the elements for hundreds of rotations more – but the forest had begun to claw its way up. Vines and mosses flourished, coating it in a carpet of red, the creeping plants like veins at this distance. She could see the watchtowers that were spaced along its length at regular intervals, used primarily for weather monitoring. They were too high up to have been colonized by any plant life, but she felt her stomach twist when she saw the faded remnants of plasma burns on some of them. Shrouded in atmospheric haze were the skyscrapers that rose up from the city’s center, too far away to make out in any detail, but she could tell that they had been damaged from their uneven silhouettes.

“That’s a fucking big wall,” Fletcher whistled, no doubt watching the same feed. “How exactly were you planning to get us inside, Ensi? I don’t think we brought enough rope.”

“There are four gates that face the cardinal directions,” she explained. “My hope is that at least one of them will be ajar, or that we can find a way to open them.”

“You reckon the machinery will have survived all this time?” he asked skeptically.

“If that fails, we can enter through the spill gates,” she replied. “I don’t see a reason that they would have been closed.”

“What’s a spill gate?” Fletcher asked. The team entered a patch of tall fungi, the Earth’nay glancing up at them as he weaved between their spongy trunks.

“They’re openings that allow water from outside the walls to flow into the city,” she explained, leaning away as Gustave simply plowed through one of the mushrooms that was in his path, sending a cloud of spores floating through the air. “Our cities are living ecosystems with waterways and lakes. Most of them are built near rivers so we can access fresh water.”

“Hang on, are these gates gonna be underwater?” Fletcher asked. It was the first time she had heard a hint of fear in his voice.

“Naturally,” she replied, glancing down at him. “I’d expect some flooding after so many rotations without maintenance, too.”

“Fucking water,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I don’t do water.”

“Can you not swim?” Xipa asked, a flutter of amused yellow passing through her headdress.

“You misunderstand,” he began, waving a polymer hand at her. “My prosthetic limbs are a hell of a lot denser than my organic ones, and they make swimming impossible. The best I can do is walk along the bottom for as long as my suit’s air supply lasts and hope I don’t get stuck in the silt.”

“Gustave carries little one, carries angry one, will carry metal one,” the Krell’nay rumbled.

“I guess that would work,” Fletcher said with a shrug. “I keep forgetting that you’re amphibious.”

They walked for a while longer, Bluejay eventually dropping down through the trees to join them as they approached the foot of the wall. It still wasn’t in sight from the ground, the dense forest obscuring it from view.

“We’re close,” he said, his shining wings sliding back into their protective covers. “I saw what I think is a door maybe a klick to the South of us. We should probably head in that direction.”

It took Xipa a moment to even realize that they had reached the base of the wall. Back when the cities had been maintained, the inhabitants would have kept the forest from encroaching so close, ensuring that there was a clearing between it and the wall. Now, the roots of the trees were breaking soil right next to it. The dense vines and weeds that had colonized the barrier made it almost invisible, and Xipa had to crane her neck to see the point where it transitioned into faded white.

They followed its gentle curve Southward, Xipa taking in the odd scenery as they went. She had expected damage and disrepair, but this was like coming upon the ruins of an ancient civilization. It was almost insulting in a way – that their presence on Kerguela had been reduced to this in so little time, as though the very moon itself was trying to erase their history.

The exterior wall was mostly featureless, so there wasn’t much to see until they reached one of the entrances. The gate was much easier to spot from the air than from the ground, designed to blend seamlessly with the wall, the covering of plants and vines only adding to the effect. The doors were made up of two large panels that would slide apart, fifty meters high and almost as wide, occupying about a quarter of the wall’s overall height.

“Well, this doesn’t look very promising,” Fletcher said as he appraised the vine-covered obstacle. He let his rifle hang from its sling, then pushed his fingers into the narrow gap between the doors, straining against them. They didn’t budge an inch, so he stepped back, rolling his shoulders. “Yeah, I don’t know what I was expecting. You said there’d be like a control panel or something, Ensi?”

Xipa hopped down from Gustave’s shoulders, then walked over to the left side of the gate. After feeling around for a minute, she found what she was looking for, tearing off the clinging vines to reveal a small touch display mounted at chest height. It was recessed into the wall, hidden beneath a sliding panel that matched the material around it.

“Auxiliary controls,” she explained, brushing the grime from the screen with her glove. “It should work, even if the connection to the primary system has been severed. They used to be connected to backup generators in case the power grid failed.”

“I guess you know all the ins and outs of these places,” Fletcher said, moving up to peer over her shoulder.

“It’s part of my job,” she replied, pressing her finger against the touch display. “Hmm, no power,” she grumbled. “Not unexpected.” She reached into the recess behind the panel and felt around for a rocker switch, feeling the tactile click as she pressed it down. “That ... should have activated the backup generator,” she sighed. “It looks like the backup is down too.”

Fletcher took a few steps back, planting his hands on his hips as he appraised the towering wall.

“I don’t think Gustave is gonna be able to walk through this one,” he muttered. “Can we blast our way inside?”

“We use carbcrete in our construction,” Xipa explained. “It’s concrete infused with a self-aligning carbon fiber lattice to give it more rigidity. Only a high-powered plasma weapon will be able to melt through it. Trust me, I’ve seen it firsthand...”

“Hey, Bug boy. Can you fly us over?” Fletcher said, turning to Bluejay.

“The Ensi, maybe,” Bluejay replied as he gave Fletcher an irritated glance. “The rest of you, not a chance. The gravity here is low, but we’re not on Luna.”

“We’ll have to go through the spill gates, then,” Fletcher sighed as he threw his hands up in exasperation. “Of course, why would I expect anything else? Why did you build these walls anyway?” he asked, turning back to Xipa. “Your cities are built like fortresses, but what was there to be scared of at the time?”

“These are copies of the layouts and technologies used to build cities on Valbara,” she explained, gesturing to the vine-covered edifice. “Their original purpose was twofold – to control the climate within the walls and to protect the inhabitants from the large predators that roam Valbara’s wilderness. There are no such predators here, but the walls still have their uses.”

“I feel like climate control could be accomplished with a fan and a humidifier,” he grumbled, giving the base of the wall a kick with his boot. “Fine. Take us to the spill gates.”

“Bluejay, did you see which direction the river was from the air?” Xipa asked.

“It’s a little further south,” he replied. “Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours to reach it.”

They heard the roar of the river before they saw it, rounding the curving wall of the city to see it winding through the forest in the distance. It was sizable, maybe sixty meters wide, flowing fast enough to create whitewater on its churning surface. Erosion had stripped away the soil at the banks to leave them jagged and rocky, the trees giving it a wide berth. The river was some distance from the city walls, and rather than flowing directly into it, a carbcrete chute maybe half the breadth of the river had been constructed to redirect some of the flow. It formed a long, wide channel, a series of hydraulic gates at its mouth controlling the flow of water. Or, they would have controlled the flow of water if they hadn’t been left to decay for thirty rotations.

The mechanical systems had failed at some point, jamming the gates open, the chute full to capacity. The water flowed down a slight incline towards the base of the wall, where there was another set of gates below ground level. These, too, had been forced open by the flow over time. It looked like everything was running at maximum capacity.

Fletcher walked up to the chute, peering over the edge. The water wasn’t flowing as fast as the river at its source, still somewhat limited by the gates, but it would still be enough to drag a person under.

“Are you sure this is the only way in?” he asked, making no attempt to disguise his displeasure. “No service tunnels, no air vents? Maybe a fucking ladder?”

“Not without power,” Xipa replied. “There’s a whole network of service tunnels that run throughout the structure, but without electricity, there’s no way to get inside.”

“You didn’t think of putting a hand crank somewhere?” Fletcher asked skeptically.

“There were backups, of course, but we didn’t plan for the end of civilization.”

“How do we even know we can make it through there?” he continued, walking along the edge of the carbcrete slope. “The gates are all fucked. There could be damage on the inside.”

Gustave walked up beside him, Xipa hopping off his shoulder as he neared the edge. He slid his heavy ammo drum off his back, setting it down gently beside his massive rotary cannon, then carried on. Without hesitating, he began to walk down the incline, the weight of his long tail stopping him from falling forward. He waded into the rushing water, sinking up to his knees, then up to his waist. When he reached the middle of the chute, the water rose to his shoulders, pouring over his bony scutes. The Krell’nay seemed large and heavy enough that he could resist being swept away. He kicked his feet off the bottom, leveling out as he let the flow carry him along, his oar-like tail waving back and forth to help him steer. Aiming for one of the gates, he slowly floated through it, the aperture just large enough to let his broad shoulders pass.

“I guess he’s gonna go take a look for us,” Fletcher said, watching the tip of the reptile’s scaly tail vanish into the dark tunnel.

“What happens if he becomes stuck?” Ruza asked, Fletcher and Bluejay shrugging in tandem.

They waited for a few minutes, then a few more, Xipa starting to wonder if he really had gotten trapped down there. Fletcher was pacing beside the chute restlessly, stooping to pick up a rock as he walked along its length. He tossed it into the air and caught it a few times, then threw it into the water, watching the splash that it made.

“Anyone know how long a Krell can hold its breath?” he asked.

“He has a radio, does he not?” Ruza replied. “Why not simply ask him?”

“I’ve never heard the fucker say anything coherent,” Fletcher grumbled, tossing another rock. “He’s either laughing, or he’s talking complete nonsense about circles or something.”

“He is not responding,” Xipa replied, tapping at the touch panel on her wrist. “The wall is likely blocking the signal.”

There was another splash, but this time, it wasn’t a rock. Gustave’s head rose from the surface, the reptile wading into the shallows as the water sloughed off his dark scales. His poncho was soaked through, but it didn’t seem to hinder him at all. He had something silvery trapped between his jaws, Xipa realizing that it was a large fish. The animal was still alive, flapping its tail, Gustave throwing back his head as he swallowed it whole.

“Well?” Fletcher asked, frustrated by the creature’s plodding pace. “What did you find?”

“The way is clear,” he replied, his resonating voice making the water around him vibrate like someone had immersed a subwoofer just below its surface.

“This isn’t a fishing trip,” Fletcher chided, shrugging off his pack. “Alright, who’s going first?”

“I’m not going down there,” Bluejay protested, shaking his horned head. “I’ll fly over the wall and meet you guys on the other side. It’ll give me a chance to scope out the area.”

“Good, then you can carry our gear over,” Fletcher added. He swung his rucksack towards Bluejay, the insect stumbling as he caught it in his four arms.

“Fine,” Bluejay sighed. “Just put your stuff in a pile, and I’ll bring it over.”

They stacked their packs and weapons on the ground, Bluejay slinging a couple of XMRs over his shoulders before hoisting one of the rucksacks, flying off into the air. He couldn’t carry much weight – only one pack at a time.

Xipa heard Fletcher yell in alarm, snapping her head around to see Gustave lifting him off the ground. The reptile tucked the struggling Earth’nay under his arm, then started to walk back towards the spill gates.

“Hang on, you walking handbag!” Fletcher complained as he fumbled with the clasp on his belt. “I don’t have my helmet on yet!”

Once Fletcher’s suit was sealed, Gustave waded back into the water, dragging the Earth’nay along with him as he slipped below its surface. After a few minutes, he resurfaced again, Xipa stepping forward as she closed her visor. Gustave was a little gentler with her than he had been with Fletcher, either because of her size or because he had been toying with the Earth’nay deliberately. He lifted her off the bank, cradling her in his arm, Xipa feeling the smooth scales of his leathery belly through her suit as he pressed her up against his underside.

Despite the fact that her suit was rated for vacuum, and its oxygen supply could last for far longer than it would take to complete the trip, her panels flashed purple with apprehension as she sank into the cold water. Every instinct she had warned her that she was going to drown as her visor was plunged beneath the surface, the muffled sounds of rushing liquid filling her helmet. Gustave cut through the water like a scaly torpedo, his sheer strength surprising her once again. He pushed off the bottom, using his tail to steer as the water pulled them along. It was hard to see much in the murky water, but it went as dark as a grave as they coasted into the tunnel. It had been a long time since Xipa had felt so helpless, so reliant on someone else, like a baby being carried in its father’s arms. Valbara’nay were very buoyant due to their hollow bones, so drowning was uncommon, but that didn’t make them good swimmers.

They coasted beneath the wall, floating down the long, dark tunnel. Xipa switched on her helmet flashlight, scanning the beam across the rounded walls. The structure hadn’t fared quite as well as she had imagined. While there were no obvious cracks in the carbcrete, its surface was covered in mineral buildup that created a stony layer, making it look more like a cave than an artificial structure. Clinging to that layer were carpets of water weeds that swayed in the current, along with clusters of freshwater invertebrates, their conical shells jutting from the walls. A solitary fish swam past, its silver scales reflecting her beam, the animal darting away in alarm.

It couldn’t have taken more than a minute or two, but it felt like an age to Xipa, sunlight finally letting her know that they had emerged on the far side. The tunnel gave way to silt, Gustave kicking up clouds of it as he began to walk along what looked like a lake bottom. He disturbed another shoal of fish, the scaly creatures powering through the water. They had long, serpentine bodies, their frilly fins arranged in a trilateral pattern. Xipa remembered the taste of their grilled meat, but that was a lifetime ago.

Gustave began to walk up an incline, heading towards the surface, the silt transitioning to red grass. When Xipa’s head surfaced above the water, she was met with a sight that made her breath catch in her throat.

They had emerged on the outskirts of the city – the outermost band near the base of the wall. This area had once been parkland, dotted with footpaths, botanical gardens, and scenic lakes that were designed to be enjoyed by the inhabitants. It had been left to run wild after the invasion, now rendered unrecognizable. The once carefully-tended lakes and streams had overflowed, the broken spill gates no longer able to regulate the volume of water that was let into the walls. The peaks of the hills jutted from the water like tiny islands, unkempt weeds and shrubs sprouting from them. What sections of the winding footpaths that were still visible were being reclaimed by the tall grass, others submerged by the flooding, shoals of fish coasting across the ground that the city’s people had once walked in their leisure time.

In the distance, she could see the residential band, clusters of domed houses that were nestled among the rolling hills and patches of forest. These, too, had been flooded and overwhelmed by the unchecked growth. Beyond them were the limits of the city proper, the pristine white of the towering structures stained and streaked by time, painted red by Kerguela’s ravenous plant life. From a distance, it looked like they had been dipped in a giant paint bucket, trails of crimson left to drip down their facades. Many were listing, their foundations likely eroded by water damage, but she couldn’t make out much more from where she was standing.

Xipa climbed up the hill, finding Fletcher waiting there, his pressure suit dripping with water. He took off his helmet, then stooped to retrieve his pack from the pile that Bluejay had created, slinging it over his shoulder.