Tunnel City

I sat with my back to the girl in labour. Of course, at my age anyone younger than twenty harvests was a girl. I could hear her screams, and her pants. I could hear the mid-wife re-assuring her, and telling her when to push. I could hear the girl cursing and swearing, threatening to bring down the wrath of the Light onto the absent father of the child she was bringing into existence. The pain of labour always brought out the best nature, and language, in a woman.

Here in Tunnel City, the greatest respect you could show to any person was to turn your back on them and give them some privacy. Apart from the mid-wife, the girl in labour had an entire platform to herself. Anyone that had an urgent need to pass through the platform did so with their eyes averted. I could see in the eyes of anyone that met my gaze the hope we all felt for this mother.

I knew her by sight, but we’d never spoken. She lived on the second level, and I lived on the seventh. There was little socialising between the levels. The only time there was a social gathering between the levels was during the services at the Church of Binda. The Religious Centre was on the fifth level, right at the centre of Tunnel City.

Eventually, the mother let out a primal scream. A baby cried through its first breath.

“I have it!” the mid-wife declared. “It’s a boy!”

The mother’s panting turned into a scream of pain, although this time it was a scream of emotional pain. The mid-wife placed the baby into my arms as the new mother sobbed.

“Ruello, recycle it,” she said simply.

The mother must already have a son.

* * *

Birth Attendant was my second job, and it was purely an ad-hoc on-call position. As I worked my way Down to the sixth level, where the Recycling Machine was located, the Light grew dimmer and the temperature grew colder. For at least the hundredth time since I’d been woken halfway through my sleep cycle to attend the birth, I wished I’d lived my life on the second level where the new mother lived, just below the King’s palace on the first level. I shook my head, hoping to dislodge that thought: that way lay despair and misery. I lived on the seventh level, and would never move any higher.

When I’d climbed down to the sixth level, I approached the chute that fed the Recycling Machine. It was told, in reverent tones at story gatherings, that many generations ago there’d been multiple Recycling Machines. Their chutes had been much larger and fluted, with wide lips and shiny surfaces. Now, all that remained was a single machine with a stubby square outcropping that bore the scars where its former magnificent fluted lip and chute had been ripped away. Resources were scarce, and extraneous machines with large fluted chutes were purely an extravagance.

I glanced around surreptitiously to make sure I wasn’t being observed. Nobody was taking any notice of me, as I’d expected. They would deliberately go out of their way to avoid acknowledging me during this reclamation birth dump; word of a reclamation birth spread quickly. I whispered a few words for the sleeping child in my arms. “I’m not supposed to acknowledge you as a real being; however, you drew breath. You’re warm in my arms. I wish things were different. I wish you weren’t just a waste of resources that need to be reclaimed. I wish you could live. May the Light embrace you, and may Binda support you.” I fed the baby to the Recycling Machine.

* * *

I climbed down the chain to the seventh level, feeling a little flat and empty as I always did after a reclamation birth dump, and decided to visit Glinala briefly before going to work at my main job: Cone Collector. Our sleeping sack was on the other side of Tunnel City from where I stood, so I made my way across over the walkways and platforms. Tunnel City wasn’t very wide, so it wasn’t a long journey. Tunnel City consisted of nine levels of humanity, strung across a tunnel with a diameter of 500 metres. The tunnel was at least ten kilometres long, and we humans were clinging to the sides at the mid-point.

Glinala had just woken up and was eating her morning Sustenance, the food produced by the Recycling Machine. It was boring and tedious, but it kept us healthy. Glinala had a tan from working as a Farm Supervisor on the first level. Sometimes she brought home fresh produce. The higher up the levels of Tunnel City you lived, the less Sustenance you had to supplement your diet with.

“Ruello!” she exclaimed happily when she saw me coming. “Would you like some water?”

She reached inside her layers of clothing and withdrew a water container. Below the fifth level, you had to keep your water close to your body or it would become ice. Above the fifth level, it stayed liquid. The lower you went in the levels, the faster water froze. I shook my head at her offer.

“Are you feeling OK?” she asked me.

“Yes,” I answered. “I just had another reclamation birth dump.”

“Oh, Binda protect the poor soul,” she said automatically, moving her hands to form the shape of a globe. Then she was silent for a few minutes. “I have to go to work now. Time to vacate the sack for the next shift.”

Apart from the royal family, all the residents of Tunnel City slept in sleeping sacks that were hung from the walkways and platforms that threaded the levels. Two lots of residents shared each sack, and now we had to vacate our sack for our work cycle to allow another family to begin their sleep cycle.

Very little Light filtered this far down into Tunnel City. Sleeping sacks and public platforms were strategically placed to catch the available Light which, as a result, made the eighth and ninth levels even darker than the seventh. I stood in a spot of Light that somehow dappled through all the levels above us.

“I can’t stay,” I told Glinala. “I just wanted to see you since I was passing through. I have to go to work now too.”

Glinala and I had been together for thirty harvests, and we were happy. We’d had our allotment of children: one boy and one girl. They’d grown up and were living in their own sleeping sacks with their mates. Our girl had even produced her first child. She had mated well, and was now living on the fifth level. Glinala made time each day to visit them on her way to or from work.

We’d also had one reclamation birth; another boy after our son was born, but before the birth of our daughter. We’d stopped having sexual intercourse after reaching our allotment of children: we were both unable to deal emotionally with unwanted reclamation births. Reclamation births were essential; mandated by Royal Decree and supported by Church Doctrine. That didn’t make them easier to accept.

Glinala and I exchanged pleasantries, then went our separate ways for our work cycle.

* * *

When I was young, I’d started my working life as a Top Scraper. Above the first level of Tunnel City, the level with the farmlands and the King’s Palace, there was a net of wide mesh strung out that covered the entire diameter of the tunnel. This net caught any larger objects that came down the tunnel, preventing them from doing any damage to the levels below. The objects were always either lumps of rock, or lumps of ice. The Top Scrapers collected these objects and fed them to the Recycling Machine. Working so high Up gave you a certain status, no matter which level you lived on.

I enjoyed working in the Light. Crawling across the net like a spider on its web, I could look Down at the farmlands that flourished in the Light, and I could see the Palace, the only structure in the whole of Tunnel City. I was constantly amazed at the waste; it had a roof over the sleeping quarters! Such an extravagant waste of resources. I could also see glimpses of the second level through the gaps between the farmlands; gaps specifically designed to allow Light to filter down into the lower levels.

Looking Up from the net, all I could see was the tunnel extending up for several kilometres, ending in a circle of white that was the source of the ever-present Light; the Light that grew the crops on the first level farmlands and warmed the upper levels. Occasionally an ambitious youngster would start a movement to explore the tunnel, but their dreams would be dashed when they realised the extent of our resource shortage. Tunnel City could not spare the resources required to explore the tunnel; neither Up nor Down.

As I grew older and less nimble, I was demoted from Top Scraper, to Bottom Scraper, and now to Cone Collector. I was happy in all of these positions, as they allowed me to leave my level. Most workers in Tunnel City had work in maintenance; maintaining the level they live on. As a result, they never left their level.

My position as Birth Attendant also meant I could be called to any level of Tunnel City at any time. I had even attended a Royal birth once in the King’s Palace! Happily, that wasn’t a reclamation birth; not even the Royal Family could side step the Royal Decrees they lay down.

It was working as a Top Scraper that had allowed me to meet Glinala. Back then, she was a junior Farm Hand. I had seen and admired her on several occasions, but one work cycle as I was climbing Up to the top net I’d had the chance to talk to her. She had her arms full of fresh produce that was on it’s way to the Royal kitchen and slipped on a walkway. I helped her pick up the produce, chatting as we did so. A few sleep cycles later she’d moved into a sleeping sack with me on the seventh level. Her parents disowned her: moving down two levels from the fifth was a scandal, but we were happy.

* * *

Working my way Down, I saw a pile of refuse on the ninth level that was destined for the Recycling Machine. The Machine broke down everything into its base elements, both mineral and organic. It then produced the items necessary for Tunnel City: materials for maintenance, clean water, and Sustenance for food. Any unused organic matter was used as fertiliser on the farmlands. The Recycling Machine was rumoured to be as old as Tunnel City; maybe even older.

The ninth level was the lowest level of Tunnel City. No Light filtered through down here, and it was dark and cold. People slept in large groups in the sleeping sacks to preserve their warmth. Fluids froze within seconds of exposure to the cold. It’s a cold and lawless level; even the Monitors don’t like to come here. The ninth level is often the source of talk for insurrection and change. I know what they would like to achieve, but I don’t know how they could successfully achieve it.

The Monitors observed the residents of Tunnel City. They ensure births were legal; each female can only give birth to one male child and one female child to ensure the population remains stagnant. They monitored work teams. They enforced respect for other people and the laws of Tunnel City. They failed miserably at enforcing respect for other people from the residents of the ninth level.

I yelled at some children who were pinholing. It was a game they played that was wasteful of time and resources. They just laughed at me and kept trying for a successful pinhole. I waved dismissively at them and climbed down the ladder between the ninth level and the bottom net.

Under the ninth level was the bottom net. This was the fine mesh net where the Bottom Scrapers worked. It was designed to catch anything that fell from the levels above. It even caught escaped and spilled fluids, because they froze during the fall into the net. Because the mesh was finer than the top net above the first level, it didn’t require as much agility to work there, however my years of working on the bottom net were gone. I made my way even further Down; to the Cone.

The Cone was the lowest point of Tunnel City. It was a solid sheet of flexible material, attached to the sides of the tunnel in as many places as possible to ensure maximum coverage of the diameter. It sloped downwards from the sides into a low point in the centre. Anything that made it through the bottom net ended up on the Cone and rolled or slid into the centre. My job was to collect these things and recycle them.

Often arguments were raised in the Royal Court for the dismantling of either the Cone or the bottom net. It seemed a redundant system that was a waste of resources. Did we really need to bottom net? Yes. It protected the Cone from large or sharp falling objects that might damage it. Did we really need the Cone, or was it a use of more resources than it saved? Yes we need it. We can’t afford to let any resources escape Down the tunnel.

Once I was standing on the Cone I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. There was no direct Light here at all, and very little ambient Light made its way down here. Once I could see, I carefully made my way up to the lip of the Cone closest to me. It was hard walking on the surface of the Cone: it was soft and spongy underfoot, despite the temperature that could freeze a tear on your cheek within seconds of it leaving your eye.

At the lip of the Cone, I could touch the tunnel wall. It was cold, and felt just like the materials used to build our walkways and ladders. Between the lip of the Cone and the tunnel wall was a small gap, one of hundreds of identical gaps caused by the Cone pulling away from the tunnel wall in between the points where it was fixed to the wall.

It was one of my duties as the Cone Collector to regularly monitor the Down tunnel exit for changes. I gingerly got down onto my hands and knees and looked over the lip of the Cone, straight Down. It was similar to looking Up from the top net, however instead of a bright source of Light at the end of the tunnel, there was merely a slightly discoloured disc: the Deprivation Disc. The disc was the same size as the disc of bright Light that was Up, but this disc was dark. It was only visible because it was slightly less dark than the tunnel wall that led Down to it.

Happy that no changes were visible, I worked my way down to the bottom of the Cone. I cursed loudly at the wastefulness of the children on the ninth level, as I immediately spotted three yellow icicles. That indicated three successful games of pinholing: a game the children played that involved urinating off the walkways on the ninth level. The urine froze and was collected by the bottom net, but if the child had gotten the angle just right the long yellow icicle would slip right through one of the fine holes in the bottom net and end up in the bottom of the Cone.

Something was wrong, however. One of the yellow icicles was sticking straight up, not lying flat like the others. It had somehow imbedded itself in the Cone. I pulled it free, then knelt down to inspect for damage. There was a small hole. As I watched, the hole became a small tear, then the Cone started to rip. The two yellow icicles lying on the Cone fell into the gap, and as the gap widened and the surface of the Cone beneath me became loose I started to panic.

Screaming incoherently for help, I gripped both sides of the rip and tried to hold them together, praying to the Light that I could prevent the rip from growing until help arrived. The tear started to rip at the other end, causing the taut surface of the Cone to become even looser and more unstable.

My old arthritic hands weren’t up to the task of gripping the torn Cone material, unfortunately. Despite my desperate attempts to hold it together, the material slipped from my grasp, and the tear ripped open, quite audibly. Suddenly, the Cone material underneath me didn’t support me anymore, and I tumbled through the gap.

* * *

At first I was in a blind panic. I flailed my arms and legs wildly as I fell through the darkness. After a few seconds I became more aware and rational. I was facing down, watching the dark disc at the bottom of the tunnel grow larger and larger as I fell towards it.

I’ve never wondered what was outside the tunnel. I left that up to the great thinkers on the second level. There were many theories; however, the most popular theory was the one put forward by the Church. Up was Binda, the source of the Light: a planet of infinite resources that could support us indefinitely. Down was Deprivation: a zone of complete darkness where you floated forever, totally deprived of any stimulation or resources.

My immediate concern as I fell through the darkness was for Tunnel City. It couldn’t afford to lose the resources in my body; nor the resources in the yellow icicles for that matter!

Realising there was nothing I could do about that, I watched the approaching disc: the Deprivation Disc. There appeared to be a diffuse light in the disc, which became more apparent the closer I got to it. The diffuse light disproved at least one part of the Church’s theory: it wasn’t a zone of complete darkness. Soon I would become the first resident of Tunnel City to know the truth of what lay outside the Down exit of the tunnel. I could only hope to report it back one day.

The light grew brighter and the disc grew bigger, until I rocketed out of the end of the tunnel. What I saw below me overwhelmed my senses.

“Oh, Binda!” I tried to say. The words were unable to escape my throat because of the rushing wind. I still made the traditional gesture of the globe with my hands as I continued falling.

There were vast amounts of resources below me! There was Light, and I could see water and earth. There appeared to be large expanses of vegetation. I had no point of reference to comprehend how far the resources extended, but I knew I was falling towards Binda.

As I fell, the air grew thicker and it became hard to breathe. I looked around me and was surprised to see the landscape disappear, curving off into a horizon in all directions. I gazed in wonder at the vista below me, my hands constantly shaping the Binda globe. I was fast becoming light headed, and my vision became grey.

The last thing I noticed before I passed out was that I was plummeting towards a city full of people. I may have taken a more unorthodox path to get to Binda, but I was there. When the Church states that we all end up in Binda, I’m sure they don’t mean literally!

I would miss Glinala, but I was at peace. My life had been long, happy, and productive. I could go to Binda, content with the knowledge that I’d earned the right to be there. I closed my eyes and fell.

Copyright © Brett Kiellerop February 2010. All Rights Reserved.