The Bridge: A Science Fiction Survival Story

Chapter 4: Of Ships and Sheep

"S-H-I-P." Said the teacher through the wall, as I walked through the potatoes I had planted, administering carefully measured water to each, "What's that spell?"

"Sheep." Said Segni, his voice exasperated.

Ship, you little shit. I thought, nearly spilling my watering apparatus in frustration, ship!

It had been two years since I'd discovered my listening spot, and in those two years Segni had slowly and painfully progressed through the alphabet to the separation of vowels and consonants to spelling. I gritted my teeth each time his teacher sighed, each time Segni came into lessons and had not practiced the night before, each time he asked for a break after five minutes.

"Close," Came the teacher's voice, "We learned about sheep last week in the readings. Try again."

"I don't feel like it," Said Segni, and I heard a thump as he put his foot on the desk, "Close enough."

"No, it's not close enough," Said the teacher, "I'm going to need you to try again."

"Look, I don't have to do anything that I don't want to. I'm the chief's son, and he's the one that gives you your rations. He's not even sure why you're making me learn reading, said he thinks it's a waste. So I'd be careful or maybe I'll tell him you're not doing your job, and you'll go to the fields."

There was silence inside the classroom for a moment, then the instructor spoke, his voice bitter.

"As you wish," He said, "If you shall refuse to read, I shall read to you. Today, we study the history of the ship prior to the Hand of God. Prior to when the ship was split, and our brothers and sisters were separated from us, perhaps forever. Segni, are you listening? Quit drawing."

"Go on, I'm listening," Said Segni with a yawn, as the teacher continued. I suppose I should be thankful for Segni's general attitude, for without it I never would have heard the stories. Instead, Segni would have read them to himself, and I would be no better off.

"As I was saying," Continued his teacher, "The ship was once one, one people. From their census, we know that food and water used to be in higher abundance, that they used to be able to sustain a population far greater than our own. Listen to this Segni, this is the reason why our numbers cannot exceed one thousand now, because we do not have the resources. When the asteroid hit, it took with it much of our capabilities, much of our ways to provide."

"Yeah, the asteroid hit, and killed a ton of people. That happened forever ago."

"It wasn't the asteroid that killed those people, Segni. From records, we can see that only two hundred people died in the actual collision. The rest died after. From starvation, from famine, from thirst. Segni, as chief one day you will have to understand this, that we must be prepared for famine again."

"If the asteroid hits again, we'll probably all die, so it doesn't even matter."

"There's plenty more that just an asteroid that can go wrong, Segni."

"Whatever," he said, "We'll make it through. We always do."

"Because we are prepared. Three hundred years ago, our ship panicked the water stopped flowing. Our numbers were at three thousand then, and when the flow stopped, they plummeted. It is said that a great historian, Archim, was able to discover how to start the flow again. But even he could not bring it up to normal levels, and so we persist today weaker than ever. One hundred years ago, the half our corps died, for an explanation that we cannot identify. Half, and we are barely able to sustain as is. Without food stores, we likely would have followed. This will happen again, Segni, and unless you are prepared we will not, as you put it, make it through."

Segni huffed, and I continued gardening, heart pumping as I listened. I had heard of the Great Thirst, but that was supposed to be false, something my father said to me when I felt like complaining.

"Segni, you must listen to me," Said the teacher, "Our lives will be in your hands. History repeats itself, and there are precious few who we can dedicate to leading the ship, precious few that know the purpose of our existence. You will be one of them and you must use that knowledge wisely, in the case of another disaster. In case the Hand of God strikes again."

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