Beneath the city of Arx Nubibus, below even the Subways, was a labyrinth of machinery, pipes and other infrastructure. Most of the systems that kept the city afloat and functional had some part down here, whether it be the sewage treatment plant manned solely by mechanical drones or the electrical wiring connected to the main power source.
But among the maze was a series of open chambers. Though they had no windows and no sunlight, they looked like they could barely be lived in. A spotless industrial kitchen, complete with two refrigerators and three freezers, occupied half of one room. The other half held a lightweight metal table, with plastic chairs around it.
Beyond the kitchen was a large room filled with computers, then beyond that were two full bathrooms and several bedrooms. Though the area only had one living occupant now, it had once been home to a whole team.
A team of masters tasked with keeping the city afloat.
Only one remained. Each morning she would get up and check all the systems, ensuring that everything was in working order. If anything was off, she'd either put a drone to the task or send a message to the Arx Techs. Rarely was there anything that needed her direct attention.
The rest of her day was spent at the computer, her hands dancing across the keyboard as she developed and expanded her code. The robot would make her three meals, which she would eat when he summoned her. After that, it was back to the computer.
Her coding work was never done. No matter how meticulously she worked, there were always bugs to be dealt with. And she had to find those bugs. The bigger the code system, the more she had to test. Was it really so strange that she'd take breaks to survey the news around the city?
After all, she had the entire web at her fingertips. If she put her mind to it, she could probably get web access for areas other than Arx. She had a bot that would probably be able to gather and amplify a signal so she could receive it. Not that it was worth it.
She didn't care what the outside world was like. When Arx was launched, that world had been going down in flames. Flames created by the people of the time, and flames that quickly spun out of control. When the city took off in 2344, its inhabitants had chosen to cut themselves off entirely. There was no point in going back now.
The occurrences within the city didn't matter too much either. Government changes didn't affect her, nor did new policies or budgets. The Keeper was removed entirely from that world. She sent her robot out to get food, worked to earn money, and that was the extent of her interactions. Names didn't even matter. So many names had come and gone she'd stopped bothering to remember any.
Though one name did stick out from the crowd - Achilles.
A foolish brat who fancied himself a saviour of the masses. Unfortunately named for a Greek hero who was once infamous for his death. So famous that "Achilles' heel" had been a common allusion. The so-called invincible hero hadn't kicked the bucket yet from the sounds of it, but the Keeper figured it was only a matter of time.
And of course with the appearance of Achilles came others. Media referred to them as Jumper, Phantasma, Lightning, Paris, Light Master...
So many. And they probably thought themselves clever. Okay, Lightning was okay. Phantasma was passable. But Paris sounded like he was trying too hard to place himself as Achilles' rival. Light Master sounded like something a five-year-old would come up with. And Jumper was just lame. Descriptive, sure, but kind of lame.
The whole situation itched inside her head. She'd received a gift - or a Miracle - when she was a child. The Miracles themselves didn't faze her. What was strange was the sheer number. If everyone got some kind of special ability, some kind of gift, chaos would surely follow. Common sense would have to be rewritten.
Was the Gift Giver really such a fool?
Gods seemed to have no care for the humans below. No care for the animals or plants. No care for the planet. Perhaps she could understand a bit of it; a long life did make everything seem more meaningless. Even so...
The robot interrupted her train of thought, informing her that the laundry was done. She relayed an acknowledgement and sighed heavily. What use was there in thinking about what went on upstairs? As long as it didn't affect her or her work, it wasn't her problem anyway.
Not only was the Underwing far out of the way, it was protected by a seventeen-digit code and biometric scanner. The most vital systems for the city were located down here; no one except the Keeper could enter. Not even the top-ranking government officials or military leaders.
It wasn't intended to be so restricted. Initially a whole team had access. But as time passed, it was decided that the entire Underwing with all its delicate systems would be entrusted solely to one person. One Keeper. It was more secure that way.
Most of the systems were fully automated anyway, but the Keeper remained to make sure those automations didn't break down. At the slightest red flag, maintenance and repairs would be done. After all, Arx was, in essence, a delicate ship. After over 250 years, it was a miracle it was still afloat. Its resilience was a testament to the ingenuity and engineering of its creators, and the integrity of the Keeper.
It wasn't a completely closed system, of course. Everyone thought it was, but the Keeper would send drones out to collect things from the surface now and then, as well as disposing of a few things that had no use whatsoever.
Human remains could be used as fertilizer. Metal could be melted down and recycled. Plastic could be recycled. The technology had gotten even better since Arx had launched. But occasionally there was something that was just dead weight, and the Keeper would cast it out.
Weight was everything. Resource management was everything. These fools had forgotten that, but the Keeper remembered. It was why Arx had begun with a death penalty for severe crimes. Dead weight would not be tolerated.
If she had her way, the entire city would be populated by her and her robots. The robots were more efficient, and more reliable. They didn't need to sleep, only charge their batteries for a few hours a day. Well, her special robot needed more, but that was because of all the additional functions. That robot was her magnum opus, capable of cooking, cleaning, conversation...
Anything she could think of, she could teach that robot to do.
Of course some things were impossible. None of her robots could do all her work for her. Anything requiring creativity was a struggle, and the results would be questionable at best. But at least they were better than the roaches upstairs, scuttling around like they owned the place.
And now, with this new generation of gifted, the Keeper was nervous about how well they'd keep the city maintained. Would they destroy it in their thoughtless scraps?
That would never be forgiven. The Keeper would keep this ship sailing until the day she died.
No matter what.
