Chapter 3: Thalassophobia

A sudden rush of water lifted him off his feet, David flailing reflexively, the Broker having to lean away to avoid being clocked by one of his cases.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, her hue darkening again. “Be still and let the current carry you.”

She splayed out her tentacles to stabilize herself in the water as the flow began to carry her away. David only had four limbs, and he settled on an awkward reclining posture that at least prevented him from being turned end over end. He expected to shoot down the tube like a bullet, but the current was relatively gentle, pushing them along at a little more than walking speed. The curving tunnel carried them down, the rate and pressure such that there was little chance of him being dashed against the glass. The Broker turned in place, looking back at him with an expression that he could only interpret as disapproval as he floundered.

His limbic system blared more protests as he coasted deeper, the dappled light that reflected on the ocean’s surface diminishing as twilight enveloped the pipe. The instinctual fear of dark, open water was hard to suppress, but he kept reminding himself that he was protected behind the glass. Like falling off a cliff in slow motion, the sheer rock face scrolled past behind him, the corals and sponges thinning out as less light was able to reach them. They must be in the mesopelagic zone now – some four or five hundred meters below the surface.

As the pipe began to level out somewhat, the slope becoming less pronounced, he concluded that they weren’t heading to the ocean floor proper just yet. It was more likely that they were still on the raised shelf surrounding the island chain – the foothills, if one was to imagine that the islands were the peaks of an underwater mountain range.

While the visibility was only getting worse the deeper they went, he found that he could make out more features now. The tube had support rings that were spaced out at intervals, and they emitted a soft glow, providing enough light to illuminate their immediate surroundings. Across the barren, rocky terrain, David could make out more such tubes some distance away. They emitted a similar glow, snaking their way up and down the slope like an underwater highway system. There were other opaque tubes and insulated cables that were likely carrying power and other resources to and from the island, the Broker civilization spanning from the shore to the seabed.

As they coasted along, he spotted some kind of bulky ROV hovering over an adjacent pipe, a set of extensible manipulator arms reaching out to repair the structure. It looked something like one of the crabs he had seen in the reefs above, its white hull rounded and streamlined, and there was a cluster of cameras on its front face. It was clinging to the pipe with a set of six mechanical legs, bright blue flashes lighting it up as it operated a welding tool. It must be another drone. He watched as it lifted off, its spindly arms and legs folding neatly into compartments beneath its belly, coasting away with no visible form of propulsion.

More lights appeared in the distance, their glow cutting through the gloom, and David was treated to yet another breathtaking vista.

Ahead of them was an underwater city – not merely a collection of small structures and domes, but towering buildings that rose a hundred stories from the sediment. They were cylindrical in shape with flat tops reminiscent of giant vases, and they were covered in innumerable windows. In a way, they somewhat resembled some of the tubular corals that he had seen in shallower water, as they appeared to have a hollow aperture at their apex like a chimney. Though, there was nothing about their texture or color that suggested the resemblance was intentional. They were made from the same white, porous material as everything else, and they were too deep to serve as habitats for corals.

There must have been a dozen of them, and that was just what he could make out, the light that bled from the windows of each one illuminating its immediate neighbors. They were linked by tubes that formed walkways between them, tying them all together into a single dense, contiguous network. It wasn’t too unlike the kilometer-tall skyscrapers of Earth’s cities, where it was more convenient to link buildings above street level using bridges and maglev systems rather than taking a trip to street level and back.

David had seen sunken cities off the coast of the United States, where rising sea levels had swallowed entire neighborhoods, the husks of buildings now playing host to sea life. There were underwater museums there now, where tourists could walk along the sea floor and view the ruins, and the sight dredged up old memories of past visits. The sheer scale of everything was a little intimidating when coupled with the limited visibility of the dark water, making the cityscape look like a pod of sleeping sperm whales. There was more infrastructure occupying the sea floor between them – a carpet of machinery and cables dense enough that it resembled the tangled roots of a forest floor.

The Broker didn’t even react – this was as normal to her as seeing the Toronto skyline was to him, and she seemed to show no interest in how he was reacting. If she was supposed to be his guide, then she was doing a poor job of it.

Following the contours of the sea bed, the pipe carried them down towards the city, one of the towers looming larger and larger as they neared. While it wasn’t as tall and lacked the enormous footprint of some human structures, it still looked big enough to have housed tens of thousands of people, if indeed it was intended to be some kind of apartment block. David craned his neck as they approached, seeing the building’s facade rise up above him, then the pair coasted inside.

The flow of water slowed as they emerged into a kind of terminal, the tube branching off in several places to allow the passengers to exit, while the main pipe continued deeper into the structure. Apparently, getting off at the correct stop was done manually, the Broker swimming through the water with a push from her tentacles. She had neglected to inform David of that fact, and he coasted past, completely oblivious. The alien noticed in time, and he felt one of her four arms reach out to grab him, the rubbery appendage coiling around his wrist. For something that looked so flexible and gelatinous, it was surprisingly strong, firm muscle flowing beneath the colorful skin like a liquid. He could feel the suckers latching onto his suit, the Broker pulling him back out through the correct tube, the water flowing slowly enough that it wasn’t much of a struggle.

He was deposited on the floor outside, glancing around the terminal. Just like every other structure he’d been inside, the walls were matte white, and all of the edges were rounded. He’d only been on the planet for about an hour, and he was already starved of visual stimulation. A potted plant, a piece of wall art – anything to break up the monotonous white. He noted that there was a gentle current, not nearly as strong as the one that had carried them down here, but enough to ruffle the Broker’s blankets. It was noticeably warmer here than it had been in the pipe, too. Maybe it was some kind of filtration and heating system – like the Broker equivalent of A/C. They would have to cycle in clean oxygenated water in a closed environment like this one.

“Where are we?” David asked, walking in slow motion. The room was about as large as a subway station, but it was deserted. There wasn’t another soul in sight. Lining the far wall were several doors that must lead deeper into the building, each one marked with Broker text.

“Administration,” the Broker replied. “You have an appointment.”

“I do? Good to know!”

The alien’s chromatophores darkened again, providing further evidence that it was a sign of displeasure, her stripes standing out prominently against her skin.

“You know, I was kind of expecting more fanfare,” he added as he followed behind her. “Maybe not a red carpet, but a little media attention, maybe an entourage waiting to welcome me to the city. Shouldn’t this be a bigger deal? After all, am I not the first human to ever set foot on a Broker planet?”

“You will soon be meeting with the administrator and the head staff,” she replied, lifting a hand to interact with one of the door panels.

“Are they ... important?” David inquired. “They sound important.”

The door slid open, and they proceeded through another corridor. This one finally had a little visual interest rather than just sterile white metal. The entire length of the left wall was taken up by a long fish tank filled with colorful corals, a UV light bathing the artificial reef to give it a violet hue. There were schools of fish swimming along, their bodies making an odd, undulating pattern as they used their frills to propel themselves through the water. It struck him as odd that they would need aquariums underwater, but he surmised that the conditions within the tank were very different from those in the building. Not only that, but polyps, spores, and escaped fish could make a hell of a mess in an inhabited area. They’d have tube worms growing in the ventilation system within a week.

The right wall was covered in more Broker text, square symbols of various colors and sizes adorning what looked like a map of the building, or maybe of the tube system. It bore a close resemblance to a subway map – something familiar enough to be recognizable.

They emerged into some kind of reception area – a crescent-shaped room that hugged another large fish tank, something akin to moon jellies floating serenely up and down its tubular length. There was a desk in front of it that extended from the floor, and sitting behind the glowing displays was something that gave David pause. It was some kind of robot with a long, rounded head that seemed to be a facsimile of a Broker’s mantle, a pair of large, dark eyes peering back at the pair. Its chassis was completely smooth, with no other facial features, made from the white material that he had come to expect. Like the exoskeleton that his guide had ridden in, it had four hose-like arms made from segments of chrome metal, each one tipped with a leaf-shaped hand.

His companion made her way over to the desk and had a short exchange with it in her clicking, whistling language, only one side of which was translated for his benefit. It was a secretary of some kind, clearly automated, the machine checking its displays briefly before directing her to a side door.

David marveled at the fluidity of its movements. If it was operating on some kind of program or neural net, then it was an advanced one. It couldn’t be AI, surely. Humanity had not yet succeeded in creating a sentient machine, and he doubted very much whether the Brokers had either. As far as he knew, their drones were simply running on algorithms – albeit complex ones. What could a people who had achieved so much need of him? He might be an expert in his field, but he must be one or two centuries behind the Brokers, at least.

His guide did as the mechanical secretary directed, David hurrying a little to catch up as she led him through yet another corridor.

“What was that?” he demanded. “That was another drone, right? Like the trucks and the repair bot we saw on the way in?”

“It is an interface device intended to relay messages and orient visitors,” she explained, keeping her eyes ahead. “Yes, it is automated.”

“A robot secretary,” he marveled. “So, it’s like a virtual assistant, but more advanced? Tell me – why give it a physical body? Why not a simple kiosk with a map? Why not just have a computer with a speech synthesizer? You seem to be in no shortage of those.”

“The interactions are more pleasant,” she replied.

“If that’s the goal, then why not just hire a real person?”

“You would find that preferable?” she scoffed, sparing him a sideways glance as he bobbed along beside her. “I had read that humans were... sociable ... but I find that hard to believe.”

Not sure how to interpret her comment, he continued on. Perhaps the task was seen as a menial one to the Brokers, and they automated all such positions. In a society so advanced, perhaps there was no longer any need for such jobs, and it would be like asking why there were no lamplighters or elevator operators.

Through another door, they emerged into a much more impressive space. Before him was a circular room that was maybe three or four stories tall, dominated by a truly enormous aquarium that rose up through its center. It must have contained millions of liters, and it was playing host to a whole ecosystem. A pillar of jagged rock ran up its center, which was home to vibrant corals and sponges, innumerable shoals of tropical fish slowly circling it as they swam up and down its length.

There were larger fish, too, something about the size of a tiger shark slowly drifting past the glass on the near side. Like the smaller fish, it had no fins, but a frill-like membrane ran down the length of its tapering body. It reminded him of a cuttlefish or something like the extinct Anomalocaris in the way that it moved, a ripple spreading along the structure. Its mouthparts were far more familiar, the creature sporting a set of powerful jaws with an exposed beak that looked sharp enough to shear through sheet metal. It was patterned with faded stripes, suggesting that it hunted fairly close to the surface.

In his awe, it took David a few moments to take in the rest of the room. There were more small fish tanks arranged around the circular space at intervals – the Brokers seemed to be using them in the same way that a human building might use potted plants – and there were odd chairs that were little more than netting suspended within a frame. They looked like small hammocks. He could see more lettering on the walls, as well as the prevalence of a strange symbol that resembled an elongated brain, its creases stylized to resemble circuits.

Movement caught his eye, and he saw several other Brokers from across the room. They were sitting in some of the strange seats, their long tentacles coiled up beneath themselves, the strangers rising as his companion announced herself with a whistle.

There were three of them, and each one was a little different from the others. No two had exactly the same coloration, one sporting a resting skin tone that was more of a rusty red, while another was closer to a coral orange. They had physiological differences, too. One of them had a frill around its head, just like his guide, while another had an arrow-shaped membrane atop its mantle like the fins of a squid. The third had what almost looked like floppy ears, two large, fan-shaped structures rising from atop its head. Each one sported a bright orange eye spot. All three were otherwise similar, with the same number of limbs and the same trailing blankets, their skin lighting up in mesmerizing patterns as they approached. Their hues grew noticeably lighter, bordering on beige, more blues dominating their stripes and mottling.

The one with a squid fin reached up to activate a translation device that was strapped around its neck, David hearing a male voice fill his helmet. If they had any sexual dimorphism, it wasn’t obvious at a glance.

“Doctor O’Shea,” he began warmly, scuttling to a stop a few paces away. David noted that the other two were keeping their distance – from him as well as from each other – remaining at arm’s length. “What a momentous occasion this is. Welcome to our city, and thank you for responding to our request for assistance. Your reputation precedes you, and I must say that we are all very excited to have you here.”

David could still hear their odd clicking, whistling language in the background, but it was easy to focus on the more immediate translation that was piping through his earpieces.

“Thank you!” David replied, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. It seemed that his guide was just unusually surly, and the rest of the city’s inhabitants were perfectly cordial. “On behalf of the UN and its scientific community, I’d like to thank your people for affording us such a rare and valuable opportunity to share knowledge and further our relations. I’m still processing everything that I saw on my way down, but I have to say – I’m beyond impressed. For an academic such as myself, this place is like a smorgasbord of scientific and technological knowledge. It’s hard to know where to start.”

They exchanged glances, perhaps confused by the term smorgasbord, but decided to press on.

“Yes, I am sure that this is all very overwhelming,” the male with the squid fin continued. “I am sure you are also wondering why we extended the invitation in the first place. We asked for your government’s discretion in the matter to avoid having any sensitive information escape secure channels. It is a matter of some ... delicacy.”

“I have some idea,” he replied, glancing at the brain graphic on the wall. “I am a multi-disciplinarian, naturally, but my chief area of expertise is the study of neural networks and synthetic intelligence. I’ve primarily worked with machine learning technologies associated with surgical robots, power management systems, auto-pilot programs – that kind of thing. My research into theoretical neural models is at the cutting edge of the field. However, based on what I saw during my journey, I fail to imagine what precisely you need my help with. If the ship that I rode in on was automated, then you’re already decades ahead of UN researchers.”

“We are having a problem at one of our research and development facilities,” the Broker replied, remaining evasive. “The team there was developing new control software for combat drones, and there has been ... an unexpected development. Our researchers were unable to deal with the situation to the Board’s satisfaction,” he added, glancing pointedly at the guide. She was standing off to one side, conspicuously distant from the rest of the group, her coloration darkening again as she averted her eyes. “The Board feels that an outside perspective might be beneficial.”

“You need me to think outside the box,” David replied with an understanding nod. “Different techniques, a different background, different cultural concepts. It’s a smart decision, if I may say so. An alien might think of solutions that wouldn’t even occur to you.”

“You will of course receive a full briefing on the situation in short order,” the male replied. “However, you must be tired after such a long journey, and the issue is not so pressing that it cannot wait a rest cycle. We have arranged special accommodations for you in the city that we hope will meet your requirements, and we have assigned the leader of the project in question to be your guide during your stay with us. She will attend to your needs and help familiarize you with our society and her project to help prepare you for the task ahead.”

“I appreciate the hospitality,” David added. “It’s hard to accurately convey what an adventure this is for me. You seem to have me at a disadvantage, though. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

“I am afraid that our names are quite unintelligible to a human,” he replied, his synthesized voice conveying an amused chuckle that was reflected in his pastel coloration. “Being adapted for an aquatic lifestyle, we simply lack the vocal apparatus required to produce speech as you would understand it – something to do with the properties of sound as it travels through water. While the translation devices that we use are advanced, a name is not something that can be interpreted so readily. If it does not violate some human custom that I am not aware of, you may refer to me by my title of Administrator. The research facility in question belongs to me, and I oversee all of its operations.”

“That would be fine, Administrator,” David replied.

“These are my colleagues – the operator of my drone fleet and the head of the R&D division. They will also be at your disposal should you require anything.”

His choice of possessive pronouns was interesting. Was it a quirk of the translation, or did he mean that the facility and the drone fleet literally belonged to him? There wasn’t enough context to make an educated guess yet. It seemed that there was some kind of board above him, so perhaps he answered to someone higher up the food chain.

“If there are no further questions, you will be shown to your accommodations,” the Administrator continued. “I trust that you will find them comfortable. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask your handler. She can forward any messages or inquiries to my staff and me on your behalf. I am afraid that I must cut our meeting short, as my schedule is quite packed.”

“Well, I couldn’t have hoped for a warmer reception,” David replied. “I’m very much looking forward to working alongside your people.”

With that, the Administrator and his two colleagues excused themselves, leaving through a door on the far side of the aquarium.

“Well, that was more like it,” David said as he turned to face his guide. “You’re the head of the research program that’s causing all the trouble, then?”

Suddenly, her sour attitude was starting to make a little more sense. This whole situation was at least partially her fault, and whatever she had screwed up, nobody had been able to fix it yet. Now, they had resorted to calling in an alien to help – a choice that could not have been made lightly when their xenophobic history was taken into account. As friendly as the Administrator had been, it didn’t take a genius to guess that calling in David had been their last resort. This woman had drawn the ire of her superiors, and babysitting him was her punishment.

“The program is my responsibility,” she replied, her coloration still dark. It looked like she was standing in the shadow of her own personal storm cloud. “The problem has confounded our team so far, and the Board decided that outside help was required.”

“But you disagree,” he added, remembering what Dr. Webber had said during her recorded message. They think they’re smarter than you. They are mistaken.

“I believe that, given enough time and resources, my team and I would have been able to resolve the issue,” she replied tersely. “Bringing in an alien represents an unacceptable security risk.”

David felt a flash of apprehension, the data drive that was concealed within his suit suddenly weighing him down like a lead ingot. Her suspicions were well-placed, even if it wasn’t his choice to become a spy for UNNI. Just what were they working on that was so sensitive?

“I understand that you’re not thrilled about some outsider muscling in on your pet project,” he began, picking up his cases. “I’ve had that happen before, and it’s never fun. But I’m here to help you, and the more you cooperate, the easier both of our jobs are going to be.”

She looked like she wanted to argue, but as stubborn as she might be, she understood that they had to make the best of the situation. The only path forward now was to help him help her.

“I shall take you to your accommodations,” she said, her translator doing a remarkable job of conveying the resignation in her voice.

The two went back the way they had come, David taking the opportunity to get another look at the secretary robot. He leaned over its desk, seeing that it was rooted to the floor of the building. It made a comment, its speech indistinguishable from that of the Brokers, but he didn’t know what it was saying.

When they arrived back at the tube station, they boarded another pipe, which sent them coasting out of the building and into the open water between the structures. David’s head was on a swivel, the sights never ceasing to amaze him. The skyscrapers towered above him, and below, the network of pipes and cables that linked the city’s infrastructure trailed across the sediment. There was something pleasing about the way that they had been arranged, like the neatly-managed cables in a server rack, more of those submersible drones crawling over them like ants tending to their nest. It didn’t matter what those cables were made of – it must take a lot of maintenance to keep everything running smoothly in corrosive saltwater.

As they drifted along their tube, following its gentle curve, David noticed something strange. They were absolutely surrounded by a complex network of transport tubes that made the place look like a giant water park, yet there seemed to be few other passengers. Every so often, he’d spot the shadow of another Broker moving through a distant pipe, lit by the glowing rings that were spaced along its length at regular intervals. If this was intended to be a highway for a whole city, then where were all the citizens?

“Where is everyone?” David asked as he floated a couple of meters behind his guide. “Are they sleeping? Is this a rest cycle like the Administrator mentioned?”

It stood to reason that on a planet with no day and night cycle, they would have to set designated periods of time for sleeping.

“You will find that our culture differs much from yours,” she replied. “We are coming upon a junction,” she added. David could see it nearing – a place where the pipe split into two different routes. There was glowing holographic lettering floating above it, somewhat like a street sign. “You will need to swim left.”

“Thanks for warning me this time,” he said. The flow wasn’t so strong that he had to fight it, David pushing off the glass with one foot to send him floating down the correct opening.

“The transportation system is so mundane, it slipped my mind that you might not understand how it works,” she explained.

“Yeah, I can see that,” he conceded. “Saw a Borealan try to use an escalator in a spaceport once – that was an interesting experience.”

“I have seen footage of your cities,” she continued. “Millions of humans are densely packed into small areas, living tens of thousands to a building, rubbing shoulders as they walk the streets. Your population centers are overcrowded and inefficient.”

“Not all of them,” he protested as they rounded another bend. “Sure, Earth has a pretty large population, and most major cities have buildings that can house a whole town’s worth of tenants, but that’s not always true on our colonies.”

“I have seen Mars also,” the Broker replied. “Millions crammed beneath glass domes where a square meter is more precious than osmium, breathing the same recycled air and drinking the same processed wastewater. Living one’s life inside a tiny cube in such close proximity that one’s neighbors can be heard through the very walls is anathema to my kind.”

“There are nicer places to live,” David added. “Franklin or Jarilo, for example. You can build a homestead there and have enough land that you’d have to walk for a day to see another soul.”

“Either way, we cannot abide such things,” she said, her skin seeming to grow prickly at the mere suggestion. “We have different requirements.”

“You like your space – I can respect that. So, how many people actually live in this city?”

“Fewer than you would probably imagine, but our society is heavily automated, meaning that there are fewer reasons to leave one’s property.”

“You don’t have to leave to get groceries or commute to work?” David asked skeptically. “This is a highly technological society, and even with all the drones I’ve seen, you’d need an army of technicians and programmers to keep them operating. Even if all of your factories and resource extraction operations are automated, there has to be someone to oversee them and keep everything running smoothly, right?”

“We do not reward idleness, if that is what you imply,” she replied as they passed beneath a repair bot that was gliding through the water above their tube.

“You’re not post-scarcity, then,” he added. It was a relief, in a way. If the Brokers had truly advanced to that level of development, then they would be so far ahead of humanity that there might be no cultural touchstones left.

“Few are content to have merely their basic needs met,” she replied.

“You didn’t really answer my question,” he added. “Give me a ballpark figure of how many people live here. That’s not a secret, is it?”

“Ballpark?” she asked, waiting for her translator to elaborate. “A stadium in which competitive sports are played?”

“Just give me an estimate,” he explained. Perhaps the device was loaded with a whole human dictionary that would help provide context for words that had no direct interpretation.

“Perhaps two thousand per building,” she replied.

“Two thousand?” David repeated in disbelief. “These are large enough to house five times that! Are you telling me that this entire city has less than fifty thousand inhabitants? I haven’t seen more than two dozen buildings, though the visibility is admittedly poor.”

“As I said, your crowded dwellings would be unacceptable to us. Ah, we have arrived.”

Ahead of them, another identical tower rose up from the sea floor, the light from its rows of round windows spilling out into the dingy ocean. It was high enough to fade out of view from this perspective, giving him another little twinge of thalassophobia.