Sunken City

Stanley West stepped into the glass elevator tube, undoing his tie as the airlock hissed the door into place. A whoosh of filtered air fell over him and he removed his sport coat to enjoy the feeling of it falling on his neck. Another day above ground, trying to convince the Terra Firma Fanatics that living in the Sunken City developments was the way of the future. No luck today, however. The farm he visited was on top of a hill and though the family could watch the coastline being swallowed by the ocean, they refused to listen to his sales pitch. 

“This farm has been in our family for generations,” they said. “We will never leave it. Besides, who would buy this land and grow the food now that the world has changed so much?”

Stanley could tell you who— the Earth Crusade group was taking over any land that could still be farmed. They were supplying food to everyone left. After the melting point, there were less than two million humans left today. Stanley couldn’t comprehend why top dwellers wouldn’t just let Earth Crusade get on with it and come join the peaceful world underwater. 

The elevator lowered to ten fathoms and stopped. Stanley placed his sport coat over his arm, carrying his briefcase which held his breathing apparatus and safety supplies, in the same hand. His home was just a short walk down an overly bright, artificially lit, pressure safe hallway. Portholes were located every six feet, where you could just make out the ancient ruins of the sunken Egyptian city, Thonis-Heracleion, which had been repurposed for this particular Sunken City location. Around half a million Sunken City homes had been purchased around the globe and Stanley had sold one hundred of those homes personally. He was very proud of this achievement. 

Upon arriving at his pod, Stanley opened the door to find his nephew, Todd, under the sun lamp, engrossed in a documentary of the before times. Todd was obsessed with things as they were before. He was only an infant at the time of the great melting, and remembers nothing of the world as it was, his mother, father, or any of the family but his Uncle Stanley. Todd was part of the tadpole generation; capable of going on land, but had never left the water. His skin, which would have been beautifully golden and radiant in the sun, was a translucent greige, here in the pod. All the underwater kids looked that way. They spent their spare time under sun lamps, running up and down giant underwater pipes connecting their homes, oblivious to any cultural ties their families once had. The underwater people were as one now, separate only to the shoreline and those who lived beyond it’s jagged, rocky borders. 

Stanley stopped by the small and tasteful shrine he allowed himself. A picture of his childhood home, a picture of his mom, dad, sister and brother-in-law. They were all gone, swept away in the melting. How he and Todd survived, he never quite understood. 

“Uncle Stan,” Todd said as he bounded across the living space. “Jess invited me to go camping, can I go?”

Stanley’s pulse kicked up. He was afraid of this moment. Todd wanted to visit the world above the water. He’d been an infant the last time he’d seen the land and Stanley swore to himself that he’d keep Todd away from that place for as long as possible. 

“Um, no.” Stanley quickly replied. He washed his hands at the kitchen sink and started to prepare dinner, burying his head in a cupboard. Things were looking a little sparse and they’d be having rice and beans again tonight. Only three more days until the food distribution delivery and their monthly allotment of fresh foods. He turned around to find Todd’s sixteen year old face staring back at him from across the kitchen island. 

“Uncle Stan, please,” he pleaded. “Jess’ mom works for Earth Crusade as an inspector and she said Jess could bring some friends along on this trip. She’s invited me, Jim, and Quiné. All of us have never been to the top side, except for Jess. I really want to see it for myself.”

Stanley sighed, “listen kiddo, top side is nothing like what you see in those documentaries you watch. It’s a dangerous place and I would really prefer it if you stayed below.” The saliva dried in his mouth, and he struggled to hide the tremor suddenly in his hands, preventing the can opener from latching onto the canned beans. 

“You go up everyday, and you come home every night. Please, I need to see it for myself.” Todd said, his voice steady and sure, his eyes reminding Stanley so much of his sister’s eyes. 

“There are precautions you’ll need to follow,” Stanley began. 

“I’m certified, remember?” Todd asked, cutting him off. 

Stanley fought down the panic surging through him. “Let me speak to Jess’ mother and then I’ll decide “

“Yes!” Todd jumped back from the counter, executing a spin. “Great! Thanks Uncle Stan.”

Later that evening, Stanley placed the call to Hibiscus Jones, Jess’ mom. He got straight to the point. “Is this going to be safe,” he asked, watching Hibiscus' response on the communication screen. 

“Safe enough, Stanley,” she replied. “We must let them see, and I'll have all the necessary equipment. Food, shelter, breathing apparatus, emergency scuba gear, everything. You and I go above everyday, you know.” She smiled carefully. 

“Only because we have to, and because we survived. They don’t know the struggle, they are safe here, in the pod,” Stanley huffed, anxiety rising in his voice. 

“We are never truly safe,” Hibiscus replied. “Let him experience the world. You can come along too, if you’d feel better.”

“No, no, the last thing the boy needs is me hovering over his social life,” Stanley replied, while rubbing a hand over his forehead. “Alright, yes, I know you’ll do your utmost to keep the children safe.”

“I will,” she replied. 

Todd, of course, couldn’t have been more excited to learn he was permitted to join the camping expedition. He somehow managed to watch even more documentaries in the days leading up to the trip. Stanley, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep. His mind was consumed, engulfed in memories.

It had all started slowly. More snow in the winter, a drought overseas, wildfires, rain, floods here and there. There were warnings, and changes. The people made the changes. Low energy light bulbs, solar paneled homes, wind turbines in the backyard, paper straws, biofuel engines, planting trees, but the people could not combat the changes corporations and carelessness of generations caused. 

Plans for survival were made and infrastructure was put in place. Some left the planet, others removed themselves from the ecosystem, choosing a peaceful death over the scramble to survive. Stanley’s family had made plans to move below, into the sunken city. Stanley, his parents, sister and her husband, and an infant Todd, were making the move. His family had gone on a trip to the top side for supplies, leaving the baby with him. They never returned. An earthquake, combined with the largest calving of a glacier in recorded history, made the tsunami come. There wasn’t time to get back. There just wasn’t time. 

Stanley knew there was nothing he could have done. His heart didn’t believe this, in truth. He saw the bodies of those who’d been swept away, drift past the porthole of his pod. They weren’t the bodies of his family, but they were the bodies of someone’s family. His mind superimposed the faces of his loved ones and he felt sick. Todd and he had made it through those days in the safety of the pod. Allowing the boy to leave now was the worst thing Stanley could imagine. 

The day came for the trip. Todd was pumped, his knapsack packed and ready. Stanley quizzed his nephew on everything required to be certified to go above water. The boy was ready. Stanley held tightly to Todd, perhaps holding on a little too long, but, you never knew when the last time to embrace might be. Todd rushed off with his friends and Stanley was left alone. 




***


Looking for a second pair of eyes to read over your work? I offer creative writing coaching! I promise detailed feedback, encouragement, and to help you bring out the best of your work and your voice, all at reasonable prices. 

If you're interested in my services, please contact me here: assistantsweet@gmail.com. I’ll be delighted to hear from you.