The seismographs scratched their warning chorus throughout the Underwater Habitat. The evacuated laboratories shuddered with each new tremor.

 

I had been submerged in the dome for so long that the outside world seemed academic. The habitat’s convenient safety was finally crumbling under the same pressures as the surface. The Big One was coming.

 

I ushered the last scientist into the elevator. He faced me and held his trembling hand in a clumsy salute. “John — err — Dr. Rose, it’s been my honor.”

 

I returned the gesture with a nod, my smile not meeting my eyes. Then I jabbed the button, sending the elevator to the surface before turning to steal one last look at my Atlantis.

 

Walking through my submerged dome, earlier days flooded back. I twisted the ring on my finger, a habit even now.

 

Miranda and I planned this space together. Together, our minds were supposed to save us all.

 

I recalled the argument as I stared down the hall. Her red-faced refusal as she swiped graphs and charts off my desk. Her, trudging back to our quarters. Me, pleading unconvincingly from the office doorway, then hurriedly re-organizing my precious data.

 

When I finally left my office, she was gone, a note left on the door.

 

Dear John,

 

She sent messages occasionally. Though I stubbornly refused to reply, they still torment me.

 

People on the surface need us! PhD or not, I can’t abandon them.

 

A siren blared, and reality came rushing back to me. I realized I had been walking towards our room. I moved with long, smooth strides to the elevator. I flipped the switch on my comm unit.

 

“Are we ready to launch?”

 

“Yes, Dr. Rose.” Three quick pops sounded on the open channel. “Things are getting a bit dangerous here.”

 

* * *

 

Hot wind blew through my hair as I steered the boat north. I grimaced as the Lion’s Gate Bridge passed beneath the wine-colored water below. I wiped sweat from my face as I noticed downtown Vancouver submerged to the east. To the south, I found only water visible in the moonlight. Only the peaks of the North Shore Mountains remained. My grip on the helm tightened as I approached Cypress Mountain, now just an island ahead.

 

You must come and see this for yourself. 

In the last three months, we have had to relocate our medical tent twice.

The water is rising so quickly.

 

The Cypress launch site smelled of rocket fuel and citronella. I paused to survey the apocalyptic scene.

 

Shanties circled the flat mountain peak. Scavenged machine parts lay scattered about like leaves in autumn. A vertical space shuttle stood tall above a graffiti-covered fence. The contrast in resources struck me.

 

Beggars loitered around the salvaged corrugated steel jetty berth. They hobbled toward me as I left my boat and marched to the awaiting shuttle beyond.

 

The people here are starving themselves.

The shuttles only evacuate the lightest refugees, like cargo.

 

“Please,” said one emaciated man. He held up his dirty hands.

 

People are getting desperate. We were wrong to admit so few to the dome.

 

“I’m an engineer,” said another, grabbing my shoulder. I broke free of his grip with ease. I turned to see what had happened. The engineer stood still with his hands by his sides, mouth wide, staring above me.

 

I turned to see a plume of steam and ash to the north. Looking back, I saw an even bigger cloud of smoke to the far south. The entire West Coast was erupting.

 

A group had formed around me. Some stood silently. Others wailed. A mother pulled her scrawny child close.

 

Behind the groaning horde, I saw the skeletal outline of a woman. My heart raced as I searched her sallow skin and matted hair. Miranda, sitting against a rock, exhausted and defeated. She was gaunt and filthy, but I would know her if she were a skeleton. Without thinking, I pushed through to her.

 

She focused on me with red, bloodshot eyes and said something that sounded like my name.

 

“Miranda? Is that you?” I croaked.

 

Her voice was a scratchy whisper. “You came.” Her eyes fixed on me. “For me? Or…” Her voice trailed off.

 

For a moment, I just stood there, unable to lie to her. She pursed her lips.

 

Why haven’t you replied?

 

Streaks of escaping ships launched from every direction, drawing white lines against the dark clouds. Whether from the morning sunlight above or ejected fire below, I could not tell. The ground shook the launch site as we made our way to the shuttle.

 

* * *

 

With Miranda over my shoulder, I sprinted the last hundred yards. The crowd swarmed behind me. They limped and dragged their weary bodies to the launch pad.

 

The deserted gate flew open when my boot struck it. I felt the dust coat my teeth and tongue. The shuttle was so close, but the mob behind us moved with desperate ferocity. I kept moving, feeling Miranda’s limp body over my shoulder. The shuttle door swung open and two soldiers stepped to either side. Their rifles pointed at the crush of people behind us. I piled into the shuttle and threw Miranda into the crash couch.

 

“Doctor Rose, we launch in five,” said the captain.

 

My heart broke for those outside as I helped secure the hatch.

 

“Four.”

 

The doors closed, silencing the sounds of heavy gunfire.

 

“Three.”

 

I tightened the last strap on Miranda. The captain spoke over the desperate outside pounding on the hatch.

 

“Two.”

 

I settled into my harness and gripped Miranda’s hand beside me.

 

I love you.

 

“One.”