WEBVTT - The Hadal

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<v Speaker 1>M follows the production of my R Radio. This episode

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<v Speaker 1>contains depictions of drug use and mild violence. The second

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<v Speaker 1>oil age, Jack's was dead. I stripped her of her

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<v Speaker 1>skin suit. The blood from her shattered nose dribbled through

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<v Speaker 1>the lines in her face. It pulled in the sutured

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<v Speaker 1>wound down her cheek. Bruising and fingertip contusions on her

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<v Speaker 1>throat told the story of her death. As I pulled

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<v Speaker 1>one of her arms out of this suit, I glimpsed

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<v Speaker 1>to name and date tattooed on her shoulder. I tried

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<v Speaker 1>to block it out, to banish it to the uncertainty

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<v Speaker 1>of peripheral vision, but the math was too easy, ramifications

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<v Speaker 1>too tragic, even with someone like her. My hands trembled

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<v Speaker 1>as I pulled the last leg free. I longed for

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<v Speaker 1>a shot of basilisk to wash it all away. The

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<v Speaker 1>fit wasn't perfect, but the suit would work. I grabbed

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<v Speaker 1>her communit and left the spent squid gun where it lay.

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<v Speaker 1>One of the twin plexiglass pods had already been emptied

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<v Speaker 1>by Hoffman, I imagined. I checked the other pod and

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<v Speaker 1>expected to find a Utex pressure suit inside, or something

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<v Speaker 1>like Thetis's get up. But this was even more alien,

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<v Speaker 1>more alive. It looked like a cross between a suit

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<v Speaker 1>of SA m R I armor and a mollusk open

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<v Speaker 1>wide to receive a humanoid form. The material looked neither

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<v Speaker 1>solid nor liquid, The outer surface dark and covered with

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<v Speaker 1>shell like bumps and walls. The pink, spongy interior left

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<v Speaker 1>little doubt of its organic nature. I knew what it was.

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<v Speaker 1>Marsh had mentioned Fukeland's disappearance in a portion of the proteus.

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<v Speaker 1>This was the Triton biotechnic repurposed as a pressure suit.

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<v Speaker 1>It made sense. No human technology would enable a seafloor

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<v Speaker 1>walk this deep down, not for landsfolk anyway. Numerous fears

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<v Speaker 1>tumbled through my mind. How was it activated? Would it

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<v Speaker 1>fit me? Was it safe? But I didn't have time.

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<v Speaker 1>It was this or nothing, the embrace of a living

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<v Speaker 1>pressure suit, or certain death in the tunnels beneath that us.

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<v Speaker 1>I slid open the plexiglass and watched tiny tube feet

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<v Speaker 1>and polyps rise up from the inner meat of the suit,

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<v Speaker 1>as if reaching for my body. I took a deep breath,

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<v Speaker 1>turned and backed into its embrace. The appendages crawled over me,

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<v Speaker 1>pulling the suit into position. The proteus grew around my body,

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<v Speaker 1>enclosing me like an iron maiden of amorphous flesh. I

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<v Speaker 1>realized the Tritons must have used something similar to bring

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<v Speaker 1>me down. It felt familiar. It hurt, but for only

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<v Speaker 1>a moment, the suit seemed to shift and adjust to

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<v Speaker 1>my size and shape, even my injuries. It hardened around me.

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<v Speaker 1>I felt soft pressure against my nose and mouth. Then

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<v Speaker 1>I was breathing again. Everything went dark for a moment,

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<v Speaker 1>then swelled back into existence. I don't know if I

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<v Speaker 1>stared through transparent tissue or if the proteus connected with

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<v Speaker 1>my mind somehow, but I looked down at my hands,

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<v Speaker 1>now seamless gauntlets of crustacean armor. I stepped out of

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<v Speaker 1>the pod. I grabbed the wheel of the airlock and

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<v Speaker 1>gave it a turn, then another. I glanced one last

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<v Speaker 1>time down the tunnel for sign of Thetis or Triton pursuers,

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<v Speaker 1>but there was only Jacks's crumpled corpse, her daughter's name

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<v Speaker 1>gleaming back at me in the harsh light. I threw

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<v Speaker 1>open the hatch and jumped down the well of depressurized water.

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<v Speaker 1>The hatch closed after me, and the chamber flooded. It

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<v Speaker 1>pressurized in less than a minute. The suit didn't so

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<v Speaker 1>much as groan but SALTI. We can't live in a

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<v Speaker 1>san cat though. We're not even gonna do when attack

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<v Speaker 1>comes in. It's o Kape Valley. I built another than

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<v Speaker 1>cattle ands at the proof Forlorman about Sauti, it's not

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<v Speaker 1>how living on her surface works. The seawater keeps wating

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<v Speaker 1>because of climate cheek nursery. That's a fearmongering by anti

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<v Speaker 1>energy obstruction is who you? You don't want to live

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<v Speaker 1>in the castle. I ne cheve in it where it's dry,

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<v Speaker 1>but her pass for you. You have salt water, dude,

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<v Speaker 1>and we can still be playing them make My name

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<v Speaker 1>is Tabitha Vail, and I'm leaving this recording on a

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<v Speaker 1>dead man switch for release at the eating of the Mess.

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<v Speaker 1>I want there to be evidence of where I went

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<v Speaker 1>and why I did it. I've arranged passage to Atlas station,

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<v Speaker 1>the DX Degrade station. There's a high probability I'll wind

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<v Speaker 1>up in custody, and I'm uncertain what steps they might

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<v Speaker 1>take to silence the press. But there's a story there

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<v Speaker 1>that needs to be told. They're listening to this, they're

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<v Speaker 1>aware of my journalistic focus what it means to be recombined,

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<v Speaker 1>or to be landsfolk, or on whichever side of all

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<v Speaker 1>of the other lines in the sand we used to

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<v Speaker 1>turn human against human, on what continues to divide us

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<v Speaker 1>in a time when connection might just be enough to

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<v Speaker 1>save us, and on the rare corners of society we

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<v Speaker 1>actually foster connection. Atlas, It's one of those places. I've

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<v Speaker 1>obtained passage aboard a cargo sub and I have limited

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<v Speaker 1>arrangements on Alice. I'm depowering my community for the journey.

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<v Speaker 1>Hopefully this message will prove unnecessary. Thank you for believing

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<v Speaker 1>in me and in a better world. I emerged in

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<v Speaker 1>new absolute darkness, the very darkness. I realized that covers

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<v Speaker 1>most of the Earth. Eternal midnight is the true norm

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<v Speaker 1>on our planet, interrupted by occasional sunlit shallows and the

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<v Speaker 1>rise of continents. The surface is but a fraction. I

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<v Speaker 1>took a step into the unknown and felt rock and

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<v Speaker 1>mud slide beneath my feet. Panic shattered through me, and

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<v Speaker 1>then a lamp bloomed to life somewhere above my head,

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<v Speaker 1>casting a meager sphere of bio illumination in the thick,

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<v Speaker 1>gloomy waters. The glow was enough to reveal the airlock

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<v Speaker 1>hatch set in the jagged outcropping above my head, as

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<v Speaker 1>well as the small cliff upon which I stood. Utter

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<v Speaker 1>emptiness yawned beyond the trench, plummeting hatal depths. I backed

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<v Speaker 1>away from the brink, my limbs moving as if in jelly.

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<v Speaker 1>I turned toward the adjacent cliff side and noticed first

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<v Speaker 1>one reflector topped steak, then another marking the path of ascension,

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<v Speaker 1>a narrow, snaking trail up the side of the great trench.

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<v Speaker 1>I turned and followed. Visibility was limited. The bioluminescence revealed

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<v Speaker 1>no more than three stakes at a time. I had

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<v Speaker 1>no way of telling how far ahead Hoffmann had gotten,

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<v Speaker 1>or how far up I had to climb to reach

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<v Speaker 1>the plateau. So I plodded along the suit, seeming to

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<v Speaker 1>augment my steps just enough to prevent outright exhaustion. At

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<v Speaker 1>times I caught movement out beyond the orb light and

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<v Speaker 1>panicked till I realized that pursuers would not be so shy.

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<v Speaker 1>If they knew where I was, then they'd simply take me.

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<v Speaker 1>More likely, it was some animal of the deep, intrigued

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<v Speaker 1>by the light. I don't know how long I climbed.

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<v Speaker 1>Occasionally my feet slipped on the rocks and mud, but

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<v Speaker 1>each time I avoided the spill. Finally I saw the

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<v Speaker 1>faint aura of the cliffs above me. It couldn't be

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<v Speaker 1>more than a ten minute climb. I paused and stared

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<v Speaker 1>off once more into the vastness of the trench, one

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<v Speaker 1>of the many deep sea gouges that the Tritons called home.

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<v Speaker 1>The darkness seemed to move, and at first I suspected hallucination.

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<v Speaker 1>I had never gone this long without the drug. But

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<v Speaker 1>then I glimpsed the faint tinkle of bioluminescence. A writhing

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<v Speaker 1>wall of viscous aglutinations moved within my light, a tapestry

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<v Speaker 1>of coiling tentacles that continually formed and dissolved as it

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<v Speaker 1>moved through the void. It was the Proteus, or at

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<v Speaker 1>least some massive portion of it, en route to or

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<v Speaker 1>returning from its toil. I couldn't guess that it's eyes.

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<v Speaker 1>I quickly turned to redouble my efforts lest it somehow

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<v Speaker 1>alert its masters to my whereabouts. I climbed until the

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<v Speaker 1>plateau opened up before me. There squatted the vibrant blur

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<v Speaker 1>of Atlas Station and its surrounding spill of infrastructure. The

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<v Speaker 1>squalid desolation of Ludex I marked the gleam of departing subs,

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<v Speaker 1>mostly larger crew transports evacuation protocol. The reflector stakes marked

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<v Speaker 1>a path to the nearest airlock. So I slogged on

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<v Speaker 1>through the mud and gravel toward the abattoir that awaited

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<v Speaker 1>me in those haunted halls. Yeah. The second oil Age

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<v Speaker 1>was produced by Robert Lamb, Alex Williams, Lauren vogel Bond,

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<v Speaker 1>and Josh Than. This episode featured Angel Masters as sinov Pond,

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<v Speaker 1>Lauren vogel Bond as Tabitha Vale, and Jonathan Strickland as

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<v Speaker 1>Salty Squid, supporting voice work by Gina Rikiki intro outro,

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<v Speaker 1>and supporting music created by the Weirding Module. Learn more

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<v Speaker 1>at Module dot band camp dot com. For more podcasts

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<v Speaker 1>from I heart Radio, visit the i heart Radio app,

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<v Speaker 1>Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows.