"Ten Fathom Station" by Frances Monro

Ten Fathom Station

 by

Frances Monro

Chapter 1 - Europe Ablaze!

As the twentieth century dawned Europe seemed on the verge of a new era of peace and prosperity. Then a disastrous series of mistakes and miscalculations plunged the nations into war. Vast trench warfare fronts spread across the landscape, grinding up men and resources. Technological development was rapid, soon fleets of airships ruled the skies while enormous battle robots and land dreadnaughts prowled the shell scarred land below.

The war expanded across the globe with the entry of the American Powers into the conflict. Vast colonial armies skirmished on distant battlefields. Fleets of battleships attacked and burned, sending men and ships to the bottom in unprecedented numbers.

The long stalemate was broken as air warfare brought the battle home to the civilian population in a way that was unprecedented in history. The trenches faltered and collapsed as starving, desperate armies roamed the desolate landscape. Nations dissolved into revolution and then anarchy. Still the fighting went on. Fleets of air pirates raided cities with impunity. Warlords arose from the ruins with their own private armies.

Out of this chaos a savoir arose. Dr Harper Weezles, a scientist and inventor and a natural leader of men used what remained of his fortune and his factories to equip a small rag-tag fleet of steam and sailing ships to attempt a perilous ocean crossing to an uncertain destination. Gathering as many as he could fit in his makeshift fleet, desperately short of supplies he led them out into the open ocean, away from the conflict.

The fleet sailed through many perils and dangers, both natural and man-made, suffering inevitable losses along the way. Tales of heartbreak and heroism were common as the refugees struggled to survive. Finally we arrived here on this uninhabited tropical island, where the only place to build was under the sea. The refugee fleet was hastily scrapped and salvaged for material. Factories and underwater mines and refineries were built and the vast enterprise was begun.

Slowly a shining city was built under the peaceful waves of the sea, safe from any conflict that might arise above. Under the sea we strive to build a utopia where peace and enlightenment reign and the horrors of the past may be safely forgotten. At Ten Fathom Station the old poverty, social injustices and cruelty will be swept away by the shining hope of a new social order based on peace, justice and  rational scientific principles. A socialist utopia beneath the sea will hold forth the beacon of light to a desperate world and shine forth as the last best hope for Peace!

With sanity slowly returning to a battle-scarred world, the discovery of healing underwater springs holds the promise of eventual income from tourism, while mines and scientifically organized factories produce consumer good in unprecedented quantities. A life of wealth and ease beckons beneath the sea.

However, those who have profited from the war still prowl the landscape, eager for further conquest, and as the fame and richness of Ten Fathom Station grows, it daily becomes a more tempting prize. Who among the refugees who still arrive each day at Ten Fathom Station can be trusted, and who secretly work for the Warlords? Will Peace and Freedom prevail, or will Ten Fathom Station prove to be just one more false start in a world ravaged by the horror of war?

*

Chapter 2 - Bamika

My name is Bamika. I am Dr Weezles’ clone maid. He purchased me in the early days of the war from my creator Dr Isaac Zeitzler on a visit to London. I have been by his side since that time, helping him to run his business and organize the evacuation. When we arrived at Ten Fathom Island I acted as his assistant as he directed the construction of our mighty underwater city.

Newcomers often express curiosity as to my nature - I am a programmed and conditioned clone. I am not an individual, I was grown by my creator from a human genetic source selected for favorable and useful traits. It was my creator - Dr Isaac Zeitzler's - plan to grow identical clones in factories, by the hundreds and thousands - eventually by the millions - to provide a devoted and efficient labor force for the New Social Order and eliminate the waste of human potential in a society composed of individuals with individual needs and desires. I'm not sure if Dr Zeitzler realized that I was listening when he used to explain these ideas to his friends and visitors.

By programmed I mean that Dr Zeitzler used his terrible machine on me to burn something into my head - rules and something he called a program. It's like... having a policeman inside your head, rewarding you when you do the right thing and punishing you if you disobey. This process hurt a great deal - Dr Zeitzler explained that the subject must be conscious while being reprogrammed - drugs or other methods of alleviating the pain of the process would make it impossible to eliminate undesired "neural structures" or to "lay down new memory engrams." I'm afraid I don't really know what that means, but that's the way he explained it. I only know that it hurt and I’m deeply glad I shall never have to face that again – My Master has promised this. I have no memories of anything before my programming, I suppose that these would have been eliminated as part of the process.

By Conditioned I mean that I receive pleasure for obeying my program and pain for failing to obey it. Over time this makes me want to obey my program, because it is plainly much more pleasant for me to do so. My brain was operated upon by Dr Zeitzler to remove aggressive impulses and to make this conditioning system possible. I don't really know how it works, I only know that when I obey an order from my Master I feel happy, and when he praises me and says that I have pleased him I feel such overwhelming joy and pleasure!

For me obedience is a joy. There is no joy to compare with the joy of obeying, and I have no desire except to please my Master and obey him. I think that you would feel the same way too if you had a conditioning system like mine, which, to quote Dr Zeitzler again, "rewards obedience with direct stimulation of the pleasure centres of the brain."

The darker side of conditioning is the pain response. If I fail to think, feel and act according to my program and it's rules I will be punished with pain, unhappiness, self loathing and despair. This is intensely unpleasant and something to be avoided at all costs. Since it is natural and habitual for me to obey unthinkingly, pain response punishment is a very rate event for me. Mostly it is caused by situations where I physically cannot obey my orders, or my orders conflict and cannot logically be obeyed, or my orders conflict with my programming and cannot be obeyed. This is called a glitch, and it is a terrible experience, a thing to be feared.

So there it is: I am a clone, programmed and conditioned for service and obedience in my role as a Domestic Servant in the New Social Order. At least, that is how I always understood my place in things to be. Recently my Master confided in me that his investigations before we left England revealed some of the things Doctor Zietzler said about my origins were not true. I do not understand this, and Master refused to say any more, saying that he feared to hurt me. I don’t know what the problem could be, but I wish to please my Master above all things so I did not press him for answers. I love him and want to please him as I am programmed to do, and more than this I believe that he wants the best for me.

Master says that after considerable reflection he has decided that my creator’s plans for a New Social Order comprised of armies of obedient and happy programmed clone workers is not the way of the future after all, but in fact represents a great evil to be avoided. I find this hard to understand! Dr Zietzler was so insistent that programmed clones like me would eliminate waste of human potential that is evidenced in slums, crime, and misguided individualism in the working classes. I have taken pride in being an example of the joy programmed individual takes in performing her tasks and serving her Master. Indeed it is no exaggeration to say that I love my Master – I would do anything for him – I was made that way. So Master’s change of heart in this matter was shocking to me, but, I instantly realized, It is not my place to question his judgement. I love my master and want to please him whatever the case may be, this is not something which may be changed, and I will always want whatever he wants – to do otherwise would be unthinkable.

These revelations have caused me to ponder one fact that has always puzzled me – That I have never met another like myself. As a clone I am one of many, dozens, perhaps hundreds, yet I have never known my clone sisters. Perhaps I knew them before I was programmed and my memories of the past were burned away? I do not know. All that is surely lost now, destroyed in the apocalyptic conflagration of the War. Do I have sisters out there somewhere, in the ruins, struggling to survive and obey their Masters and Mistresses? Or am I now alone, the last surviving clone of a New Social Order that is never to be? Perhaps I shall never know.

*

(This is going to be a very long steampunk adventure story, with many characters and exciting events. Not everything has come to me yet, but the following is the final scene.)

*

The next day I went to serve my Master his morning tea. I had changed into a fresh clean uniform and laundered my old clothes. I felt happy and secure in the knowledge that everything was quickly returning to normal. Master seemed sad and distracted – how it made me love him to see him this way! – I wanted to make him happy so much, but often he does not wish me to, so I smiled at him shyly and waited patiently to hear his instructions, my heart filled with love.

“Bamika, this business with Zeitzler has made me realize how vulnerable we are here. I may not be here forever and there are things I must tell you.”

“Oh no, Master, don’t say that! Are you alright? Have you been hurt? How can I help you?”

He reached out and patted my arm, smiling slightly. “Be calm, Bamika, It’s alright.” Instantly I felt very calm, obedient to his command.

“Yes Master.”

“Please, don’t call me that Bamika. Call me Harper. Call me Harper from now on.”

“Yes Harper.” It pleased me to obey him.

“Bamika, I want to tell you about your past. I should have told you before but I was afraid. Now I see that you need to know. Zeitzler lied to you, you are not really a clone at all.”

“I’m not, Harper?”

“No, you’re not. You’re as human as I am. Zeitzler took you from an orphanage, operated on you, and reprogrammed your mind with his machine. He never cracked the secret of growing clones at all, he lied to you and to everyone else.”

“Oh, I see.”

“My investigators discovered your real name. You are Fawn Heston. Do you remember than name Fawn?”

“No Harper.” The name meant nothing to me, perhaps it was in one of those black, empty areas in my mind. I did not remember it.

“I want you to use your real name from now on. Fawn Heston. Will you do that for me Fawn?”

“Yes Harper!” I smiled at him, and I smiled back, and I felt a sunshine burst of pleasure reward. It felt so good to please him!

“And we will find some way to reverse what was done to you, this reprogramming. Perhaps I can rebuild Zeitzler’s machine.”

I blinked at him, a sudden anxiety gripping my heart. “Will it hurt, Harper?”

“Hurt? I don’t know, did the original reprogramming hurt?”

“Yes Harper, very much. Please don’t do that to me again. Please let me serve you, I will do anything.”

“Hush, hush, be calm Fawn.” Instantly calm descended on me again, obedient to his words. “I will never hurt you Fawn, I promise.”

“Thank you Harper.”

He smiled, tiredly, and I smiled in return, filled with the desire to please him and make him smile more. “It is time for your tea, Harper, can I fetch it now, please?”

“Yes, yes, Fawn, thank you.”

The maid beamed at him happily and bustled out of the room through the airtight hatch to the kitchen, humming happily to herself, clearly delighted to obey him in this as in all matters. Harper watched her go and then sighed.

The End