ER16-1 Trading Death
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The Great Family Council Meeting
Transatlantic Economic Community, Jareit Island
Year 2160
Cough cough!
Ash and the stench of blood clogged her throat, choking the air from her lungs.
Is anyone still alive?! Say something if you can hear me! Anyone!
Cassie! Cassie...!
The edges of the stone had come loose under her prying fingers. Grime filled every crevice of her nails. The skin across her knuckles was torn open, blood and dust mingling into a grisly, dark red paste.
Gritting her teeth, Ophelia nudged the loose fragment of rock a little further to the side.
Please... just... answer me...
Another chunk of rubble fell aside, revealing only pale skin and blood that had not yet clotted.
No—no, no...!
Numbly, she hauled the body from under the broken stone and rested it as close as she could against a stretch of wall that had not yet crumbled.
She had no time to pause. Someone else might still be alive beneath the wreckage, waiting to be saved.
Even just one... Is anyone still here?!
Anyone! Answer me!
Still calling out, she fell to her knees again and tore at another heap of rubble with nothing but her hands.
The jagged edges of the stones scraped her palms raw, and shards of glass cut into her flesh. A searing, fiery pain lanced from her fingertips all the way up to her wrists.
Cough!
Just when it seemed she might excavate the silence itself, a tiny sound surfaced from under the wreckage.
Miss... Ophelia...!
Ophelia nearly lunged toward the sound, clawing madly at the heap of broken stone and twisted metal.
I'm here... Cassie, I'm right here!
The skin on her fingertips shredded away, leaving blood smeared across the shards of stone. Her nails cracked and peeled back, and each contact with something solid sent a blaze of white agony searing across her head.
At last, a face surfaced from beneath the dust and gore, one that had always worn a shy, ingratiating smile.
Miss Ophelia... I feel... cold...
Just hold on... Just a little longer! Help's almost here! I'm getting you somewhere safe first.
Ophelia drew the girl from the wreckage with care and settled her against her own side.
But that single motion alone was almost enough to exhaust the last of her strength.
Which... which way...?
Smoke and fire had swallowed most of the view. Ahead, the way was blocked by splintered beams and overturned chairs.
Chunks of rubble and twisted steel kept falling around them.
The young woman's eyes darted wildly, hunting through the wreckage for somewhere safe, anywhere that might shield them.
Then, in the space of a heartbeat, she noticed the breathing beside her growing shallow.
...Cassie?
Cassie, don't you dare close your eyes!
Miss Ophelia...
You should... go on without me... I think I'm... cough!
Don't be ridiculous... I still have stacks of paperwork with your name on them... We are getting out of here... together!
All around them, the roar of falling rubble swelled. Blistering smoke poured into her lungs with each inhale.
Then a piercing metallic shriek split the air.
—?
A thunderous crack split the air as the metal beam gave way. It came down toward her in a cascade of broken glass.
AARGH!!
She was thrown hard to the ground. But even as she fell, she covered the assistant beside her out of pure instinct.
When she tried to rise, bracing her weight against her arms, a violent agony tore through her shoulder and calf.
Her ears roared, and the world before her wavered and dissolved... Firelight, smoke, the harsh white glow of emergency lights all melted into a swirling, formless blur.
Before long, the dappled light began to fade, slipping through the leaves above and pooling on the ground in trembling pools of brightness.
Each time the wind stirred, those glowing patches quivered at her feet like shards of broken glass.
Sob...
It seemed to be a picnic, but she had strayed too far.
Somewhere in the distance there ought to have been voices, a blanket laid out on the grass, white cloths rippling in the wind, and the soft murmur of adults punctuated now and then by laughter.
Yet the woods around her now were a labyrinth without bounds. She could see neither entrance nor exit, and all she could do was feel her way along some possible path, praying for someone to appear.
If she could only follow the way she had come, she would soon see that picnic blanket spread upon the grass. She would see her father and her sister.
...Where are they?
She gathered her skirt and stepped cautiously over a tree root.
One tree, then another.
Each tree resembled the last. Every gap between them promised a way back.
She walked on for a long while, until wet mud caked the toes of her shoes and low brambles caught at her hem. Still, the distant voices drew no nearer.
Impatience and dread gnawed steadily through her composure. She could not tell which way to turn, nor whether she should keep walking at all. The more she fought for calm, the more insistently the tears rose to her eyes.
Where... where is... everyone?
To a child, even a modest patch of woodland could turn into a nightmare from which there was no waking.
At last, unable to walk another step, she sank down against the trunk of a tree and hid her face in her knees.
Dad... Helentine...
Just then, a soft rustle stirred among the leaves.
Footsteps crunched over dry twigs. Crack, crack.
Ophelia!
Helentine...?
At the sight of her sister, something closed around her throat.
She wanted to tell her how long she had searched, how scared she had been all by herself, but not a single word made it past her lips.
...Oh, thank goodness. You're not hurt.
Can you still walk? Follow this path straight ahead and you'll come right out to the picnic spot. Can you see it?
You're not coming with me?
There are still a few people who got turned around. I have to go find them too. You go on. Dad and the others are waiting.
I'll be back soon once I find them.
...Helentine, do you really have to go?
The girl turned her gaze to Ophelia and offered a soft, gentle smile.
Of course I do...
I made a promise, didn't I? I said I'd protect all of you!
Helentine gave a wave and turned, walking deeper into the woods.
Her steps fell upon the dead leaves, the sound crisp and brittle. Crunch, crunch. Each footfall was farther away than the one before, until the shadowed forest absorbed them entirely.
She did not hesitate. She did not look back. It was as if she always knew exactly where she was meant to be.
Ophelia rose slowly, dusted the soil from her skirt, and walked on alone in the direction her sister had shown her.
The sunlight fell warm and kind. The shadows under the trees were beautiful. The path did indeed lead back to the picnic blanket laid out on the grass. Only her sister never returned.
When she turned once more, longing for one last glimpse of that familiar figure...
Helentine... where are you?
Chares Conference Hall
Jareit Island
Transatlantic Economic Community
Applause. Loudspeakers. A podium.
Ophelia was there as the representative of the Spelmin family. Beside her was the assistant she had recently taken on, a young woman named Cassie.
What exactly is the Phylotree of Ousia?
For most of history, humankind believed that consciousness—the soul, if you prefer—was something beyond explanation. Something untouchable.
Now, under the leadership of Dominik and Arius, we have learned to translate consciousness into comprehensible data.
And if consciousness is data... then with the proper tools, humanity can copy it, edit it, or perform any operation imaginable upon what we once called the "soul."
Yes. Human consciousness can be read. It can be understood. And it can be modified. This very principle serves as the foundation for Professor Arius Erhorn's continued development of M.I.N.D. technology.
Ophelia kept her gaze fixed on the screen behind the podium while her thoughts wandered elsewhere.
Earlier that day, she had meant to give her sister a gift to celebrate her promotion, perhaps on the way home after the conference, or over dinner.
It was no grand gesture, but she had rehearsed the moment over and over in her mind, and today seemed the perfect occasion.
Once the meeting ended, she would go back, wait until her sister was alone, and then... she had already decided on every word.
Miss Ophelia? You've been staring into space this whole time. Are you tired?
The young woman startled back to the present.
I...
Ophelia opened her mouth to reply, and then memory struck. She remembered this moment.
Her eyes lifted toward the vast dome overhead.
She remembered it. She knew exactly what would come next.
Cassie! Run, now!
Applause swelled through the chamber just as a thunderous blast ripped through the dome above, annihilating the calm in a single heartbeat.
The roar of the sea rose in chorus with the collapsing structure, the whole hall twisting as though something deep inside had snapped its spine.
Fire kindled along severed circuits and raced outward. In seconds, the glittering conference hall, so magnificent only moments before, was reduced to ruin.
Fire and saltwater, blinding smoke, the dizzying betrayal of gravity, all of it struck in the same breath.
...humanity will ultimately...
...mend the fractures of consciousness...
...the soul is not beyond reach...
Cassie!
A heartbeat later, the floor bucked beneath her in a wild convulsion.
The ground rolled like a swell at sea, pitching her sideways. She had not yet steadied herself when something heavy plunged from above.
A white hot agony tore through her leg.
Aaaaagh—!
She slammed hard onto the floor.
A jagged piece of metal raked across her calf, ripping the cloth open. Blood rose quickly to the surface and spread in a dark bloom through the fabric.
Her body tensed to rise on pure reflex, but her leg would not obey.
Loose debris continued to shower down, stones cutting into her hands and leaving bright streaks of blood behind.
The world around her had dissolved into pure mayhem. Only the crash of falling debris and far-off screams remained.
Pain splintered her awareness again. When Ophelia surfaced, she could not tell how long she had lain unconscious among the wreckage.
She dragged herself back from the brink of oblivion, only to discover that the horror surrounding her had not eased.
Ophelia sagged against the wall, her body almost entirely drained of strength.
Overhead, a slab of concrete hung by a thread, swaying and ready to drop.
How...?
The useless fight had left her. Now she only wished to wait in silence for death to come.
No...
If someone could just come and save her... If only... she...
Ophelia! Look out!
That voice slashed through the haze like a blade, cleaving the fire and smoke that had swallowed her sight.
In the next breath, someone hurled themselves out of the wreckage and planted their body between her and the threat.
Crash.
The slab of concrete hurtled down, skimming past her shoulder as it smashed into the ground and threw up a storm of dust and shattered stone.
Ophelia's mind reeled. A high, piercing ring was all that remained in her ears.
...Helentine?
She pried her eyes open. There, kneeling before her, was a figure she knew well, one hand still cupped protectively beside her head.
Sorry. I'm late.
Helentine...
Cassie... Cassie's still...
Helentine tracked the line of her sister's shaking stare. There, propped against the wall, was the girl, already motionless and quiet.
I know.
She brushed the blood tenderly from Ophelia's cheek, then looked back over her shoulder at the rescue party surging toward them.
Two wounded here.
Right leg's injured. Shoulders and back likely took hits too. Be careful of the wounds when you move her.
And there's one more...
...Take her too.
At least don't leave her here alone.
Understood! I need hands over here! Now!
Two members of the rescue team rushed forward at once. One braced Ophelia, keeping her upright, while the other knelt beside Cassie to assess her condition.
Helentine, what about you...?
...
Helentine didn't answer right away.
Another stifled cry for help rang out from somewhere deeper in the wreckage, breaking the short silence.
Filtered through smoke, fire, and mangled steel, the voice was so thin it scarcely seemed to belong to the living.
Helentine straightened up and raised her head.
You're going... deeper in? Look at yourself...
Don't go... Please, Helentine. Someone else can save them. It doesn't have to be you...
Ophelia gathered the last of her strength and caught hold of Helentine's sleeve.
World Government reinforcements won't be here for a while yet, so...
I'm not going to abandon a single life.
Ophelia had pictured so many ways this evening might unfold.
But none of them had looked like this... She was meant to give her sister a gift.
Helentine, you...
Helentine rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.
I made a promise. I'm the elder daughter of the Spelmin family, and I will protect the people of the Transatlantic Economic Community.
Every last one of them.
The old, shameful memories surged back over her like a tide. Her sister had always taken everything upon herself, for as long as she could remember.
As though she were convinced she must bear the weight of pain that did not belong to her.
This time is different! We don't even know what just blew up! Did you not see those flashes across the sky...?
The noise of the catastrophe rose and slowly swallowed Ophelia's desperate words.
Helentine! There are still people trapped inside!
Understood.
Please get this... wounded lady out of here first.
...Helentine?
I'm sorry, Ophelia.
There are still people who need me... This is something I have to do.
Her breath scraped in and out of her lungs, ragged and raw. Still, she reached over and cleaned the blood from Ophelia's face. A rescue report rang out in the distance, and Helentine lifted her head.
...
Don't worry. I'll be back before you know it.
Helentine held still and met her eyes a final time. She offered no further words.
She worked Ophelia's fingers loose, one by one, with a gentleness that ached.
Then she turned on her heel and followed the rescue team, plunging together into the heart of the blaze, deeper, brighter, and far more lethal.
The fire rolled over her receding silhouette as though it meant to consume her whole.
Ophelia was hauled toward the exit, half supported by the rescuers, but her gaze never left that distant point. Smoke, grit, blood, tears, and the stark white glare of the emergency lights all swam together into a blinding smear.
She wanted to scream at Helentine. For her arrogance. For treating her own life as if it were worthless. For doing this, again and again.
Yet no sooner had the thoughts risen than a weight pressed down on her chest.
Because she understood, more clearly than anyone, that Helentine was doing the right thing.
And so her fury crumbled from within, folding into a feeling far deeper, far heavier, something she could not outrun.
Concern for her sister and the inexplicable sense of smallness that surfaced around her wove together into an emotion she had no name for.
Far above the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, a thread of silver spanned the horizon for hundreds of kilometers, cutting the ancient and boundless ocean cleanly in two.
It was a wonder produced by the Golden Age planetary transformation initiative, a colossal dam built upon the North Atlantic currents. The crown jewel of the Transatlantic Economic Community: the Atlantic Eye.
Just thirty-two minutes ago, its central body detonated, and already the wound was visible from orbit, a scar of ruin carved across the structure.
A column of water shot upward from the Atlantic Eye, veined with patterns that resembled a vast golden tree, and it pierced the heavens in a single breath.
Where the light reached, the rules of the physical world bent and broke. Metal ran like liquid. Slabs of concrete hung suspended. Gravity itself became a game of chance.
What was firm grew soft. What should have collapsed remained upright. Things meant to stay apart bled into one another.
The great metal wonder that had once pierced the sea now gaped with ruin. The ocean rushed in like a maddened animal, battering the structures that still stood around it.
The waves built and collided, trembling the neighboring shores. Shockwaves ground steel and brick at the outer edges into dust and splinters.
A rescue transport pushed through the churning air, its frame shuddering hard with every gust.
Rescue transport H-17 entering descent corridor.
Adelyde, do you read me?
In the plane circling over the Atlantic Eye, Helentine keyed the communications radio to life.
Reading you. Is the Jareit Island rescue wrapped up?
Strange particles surging out of the catastrophe site bled into the transmission, breaking the communications into broken syllables and static.
Affirmative. Port Podesta's rescue team is over Atlantic Eye airspace now. We'll join you shortly.
What's your status? How bad is it down there?
███ shape. Prepare for the worst ███. Explosion epicenter looks to be ███ Eye's lower █.
We're on the upper ███. It's a complete █████ down here. ███ hell on earth.
A string of thunderous blasts tore through the conversation.
████! Watch out! ███, don't go there!
...Copy. We're expediting landing.
Stay ███.
You too.
Atlantic Eye rescue operations are now underway. All units, prioritize support for the Helio family rescue teams!
Yes, ma'am!
In the beginning, people believed that this bizarre calamity, which rippled through the entire transatlantic region, would scar the historical record forever, a wound on the Golden Age at its height.
And so it came to be known as the Atlantic Calamity, a disaster that swept across the whole of the Sea of Atlas.
But no one at the time could foresee that this tragedy was only a prelude, a dress rehearsal for another destruction still waiting in the wings.
Less than four hours into Operation Styx Crossing, the initial rescue response to the Atlantic Calamity, and yet the wounded pouring back from the site had already overwhelmed the medical facilities across the neighboring islands.
The sound of news reports droned through the wards.
Breaking: A massive explosion has struck the Atlantic Eye.
Eyewitness reports indicate the epicenter lies within the lower structural ring.
And physical anomalies have occurred near the blast site, described as a breakdown of physical order. The cause has yet to be determined.
In response, the Transatlantic Economic Community has declared its highest-level disaster alert for surrounding territories, and World Government rescue units are now mobilizing toward the epicenter.
The incident remains active and dangerous. Communications inside the Atlantic Eye have collapsed across large sections of the structure, with multiple areas reported to have suffered structural failure. The full extent of casualties remains unknown.
Crucially, fires at the epicenter are not yet under control, and the continued collapse of internal structures has prevented the first wave of rescue personnel from delivering a full situation assessment.
Update: Rescue Team H-17 has gone silent while operating in the lower rescue airspace of the Atlantic Eye. The personnel manifest is still being confirmed.
To repeat: A massive explosion has struck the Atlantic Eye. Rescue forces are converging on the scene, but the situation inside the structure remains unclear.
...
Ophelia gazed numbly at the newsfeed running across the screen inside the ward. She appeared to be reading, but the words refused to take shape in her mind.
A moment later, the door swung open, and a doctor hurried in.
Ophelia Spelmin... You're Helentine Spelmin's sister, is that right?
Yes...
Your sister's been pulled out. But her condition... it's not looking good.
Where is she?
ER. They've already started resuscitation.
This is... the family consent form.
It's critical. Massive blood loss, multiple fractures, severe trauma to the brain.
We're stabilizing her vitals, but conventional measures can only buy us so much time.
Even if we manage to bring her back, she may never regain consciousness on her own.
Where's my father? Tavis Spelmin. You must know him. He should be at Port Podesta today...
Mr. Spelmin... he'll be here soon.
But he also feels that, in this situation... the odds are not in our favor.
We'll do everything we can.
...
She gazed at the name inscribed on the page, Helentine Spelmin, and it struck her as unfamiliar, almost foreign.
She held the paper tightly and looked at it for a long, long time. The pen did not move.
The memory of her last sight of Helentine forced its way into her mind, unbidden and unstoppable.
Her blood-smeared face, disheveled clothes, and that voice she knew better than her own.
This evening should have marked her promotion, a cause for celebration. What step had gone so terribly wrong to lead them here instead?
Every memory she had of her sister came rushing back. The late-night conversations, the grievances traded over meals, the private talks with their father. They broke apart inside her like shards of glass and drove themselves deep in the hollow of her chest.
Ms. Spelmin?
Yeah... I know...
Ophelia's hand trembled as she tried to write her name. The characters on the consent form, the document that might decide her sister's fate, came out crooked and barely legible.
She could not imagine the days that would follow without her sister in them. The thought alone made her head spin, a wave of dizziness washing over her.
Would everything be far easier if she were the one lying in that emergency room?
If there was truly a way for her sister to live, then what must she sacrifice in exchange? What would count as fair?
Her tears dropped onto the fresh signature, spreading the ink into pale, ghostly stains.
