Evolution

The stairwell’s concrete, where it was exposed, was stained brown where metal fittings had rusted away. And when Snowy put his weight too close to the edge of a step, the concrete just crumbled. The stairs themselves were barely visible under a tangle of moss, leaves, debris of all kinds. Snowy wasted a little energy trying to clear this stuff off, but found that much of it was actually growing here, out of a layer of mulch over the concrete.

Ignoring the mess, he stepped up and just pushed his way out of the well.

At last he found himself standing on leaf-covered ground. He was panting hard. Evidently the cold sleep had taken more out of him than he had expected. The others followed him, one by one, brushing dead leaves and moss and mulch off their clothes.

The forest was built of tall trees, with low branches, heavy, spreading leaves. Oak, perhaps. Wind rustled, bringing warm air to Snowy’s face. It felt like late spring or early summer. The air smelled fresh, of nothing but forest, green and mulchy.

The Pit was set in the ground, half-concealed by a great concrete lid. But the lid was tilted askew and cracked, and plants were growing out of its surface.

Ahmed had a small black backpack. This contained a clockwork radio transceiver — which, like the pistols, had been stored in oil. Now he turned this on, wound it up, extended its aerial and began to walk around the little clearing.

Both Moon and Bonner looked very young and scared, lost in the green shade.

Sidewise stood by Snowy. Moodily he kicked the concrete carapace. "It’s amazing the power supply kept going as long as it did."

Snowy said, "It’s like we just clambered out of Chernobyl."

"I don’t think Chernobyl is a problem anymore."

"What?"

"Snow, just how long do you think we’ve been stuck down that hole?"

Snowy braced himself. "More than fifty years?"

Sidewise grunted. "Look around you, pal. Those trees are oak. And look at this." He led Snowy to a fallen tree. The trunk had snapped off maybe a meter above the ground. Much of the fallen trunk was coated with greenery, and fat, platelike fungi adhered to the upright stub of trunk, like disks stuck into the wood. "Snow," said Sidewise, "you are surrounded by a mature forest. These are old trees. This one got so old it died without being felled. Come on, Snow. You remember those eco classes in training. What happens if you let a forest clearing recover?"

The grasses and herbs would be first to colonize the empty space. Within a year or so there would be Scots pine seedlings, birches, other deciduous trees sprouting from seeds left in the ground, or from stumps. Once there was some protection from the frost, Norway spruce and chestnut might take hold. Then, as conditions changed, different species would compete for light and space. After maybe fifty years, as the recovering forest darkened, the grasses on the floor would make way for shade-tolerant vegetation like bilberry and mosses. And after that, the oaks would return.

Snowy hadn’t paid a great deal of attention to this kind of stuff, at school, during his training, or later. Eco was always too depressing, nothing but lists of dead creatures. But — how long?

Sidewise poked at the grounded trunk. "Look at these bryophytes — the mosses and liverworts — and the lichens, fungi, insects burrowing away. You know, in our day a sight like this dead trunk was as rare as a wolf."

"In our day?"

Ahmed had given up his stroll around the clearing. "Nothing," he said. "Not a peep on any frequency. Not even GPS."

"Maybe the radio’s out," Moon said.

Ahmed pressed a green button on the set. "The self-test is okay."

"Then," said Bonner, "what do we do?"

Ahmed straightened up. "We keep ourselves alive. We get out of this damn forest. And we find somebody to report to."

Snowy nodded. "Which way?"

"The maps," said Bonner immediately.

Their training asserted itself, and they hurried back to the Pit.

The Pit had been equipped with external stores of paper maps, in case of the eventuality that a troop found itself revived like this without external direction or orientation. The maps were supposed to be contained in weatherproof boxes on the exterior of the Pit. The maps would also come with spins — specific instructions. Snowy knew they would all be reassured to find something to tell them what to do, maybe a clue as to what was going on.

But, try as they might, they couldn’t even find a trace of the map boxes. There was nothing but a surface of corroded, crumbling concrete, heavily colonized by mosses and grass.

Sidewise helped with the search, but Snowy could tell that his heart wasn’t in it. He had known the maps wouldn’t be here. Snowy began to feel vaguely scared of Sidewise, because he was so far ahead of the game; he really didn’t want to know what Sidewise had already figured out.