Topside, part One
A Climate Fiction short story for Earth Day 2025
“The Future of Nature” is an Earth Day community writing project for fiction writers to explore the human-nature relationship in a short story or poem. It was organized by @Claudia Befu and @Julie Gabrielli, and supported with brilliant advice from scientists @JDTonkin and @betweentwoseas. The story you’re about to read is from this project. You can find all the stories as a special @TopInFiction Disruption edition, with thanks to publisher @EricaDrayton.
This is the first part of a multi-part speculative fiction story about a future world wherein survivors of decades of war, famine, a cultural shift away from child-bearing, and a series of inexplicable viruses retreat to underground communities called Principal Occupation District Zones (PODZ). PODZ were designed to remove human interference with the earth, giving the land and waters an opportunity to heal. PODZ were self-sufficient. No plants or animals lived there as part of a belief that using plants or animals for any purpose constituted theft and would interfere with the planet’s healing.
The story begins roughly 75 years after the PODZ were sealed from the outside world: Topside.
Gaylyn swallowed the last of her nutrition drink with a gulp and turned to her parents. "Can I go…"
"MAY, I go…" interrupted her mother.
Gaylyn rolled her eyes. Grammar in school was not her best subject, and it annoyed her no end that her mother insisted on correcting every error in regular conversations.
"May I go to the Center now? Tabitha and I promised Phoebe that we would help her with her physics homework today. And Phoebe is going to edit my lab report."
"Go. But be home for supper by six, please. We will have our family gratitude circle at 6:15 sharp, and I don't want to hear you slurp the way you did yesterday," her mother replied. Meals in the PODZ were quick affairs: a nutrition drink, carefully calibrated to meet each individual's needs based on annual physicals. Many families skipped the formality of consuming meals together, but Gaylyn's parents insisted on some of the old tradition of topside Earth from a century ago.
Gaylyn leaped out of her chair, kissed both parents on the cheek, and put her tablet in her favorite bag, one that she had crocheted herself from the recycled clothing center at the end of the PODZ. The PODZ (Principal Occupation District Zones) were a series of underground communities built in the late 2050s as a last attempt to remove humans from the natural world so that it might heal from the abuses of overpopulation, deforestation, resource depletion, and pollution. Conservation efforts failed miserably, so when a series of weather disasters, wars, and a mysterious virus in the 2060s decimated the human population, directly and indirectly, the PODZ were activated and those who were approved moved in.
Approval was a long and expensive process. The first hurdle was philosophical; no equivocation about the need to let the Earth heal without human interference was permitted. The second hurdle was educational and intellectual. Only the best scholars, leaders, and those with great mental potential were invited. These few could invite some from the worker class so that menial tasks would not interfere with important work. The final hurdle was physical. Only people without physical disabilities were allowed. A strict DNA test excluded anyone who may have a predilection for any genetic shortcomings. Those who passed all the criteria were then subjected to a battery of tests and vaccinations to ensure that everyone in the PODZ was mentally and physically fit to live underground for an unspecified length of time.
Gaylyn was of the second generation born in the PODZ. She and her friends knew of Topside only through books, school and the Center. Situated at the hub of the PODZ, the Center featured the only natural light available, filtered through a dome of clear silicon carbide infused with lab-created diamonds. Ostensibly the purpose was to monitor the progress of topside healing, but time and exterior moisture rendered visibility to nearly nothing except the light that penetrated. Gaylyn loved the Center. It was warm and bright during the days, and the nights had a mysterious depth that changed every hour.
"Gaylyn!" called a voice. "It's about time! I am so behind in physics and I am so stuck!" It was Phoebe, brilliant with words, but not so much with science. She and Tabitha sat at a table near the edge of the Center, with tablets open beside empty nutrition drink cups.
"Sorrrrry," Gaylyn drawled, in a terrible recreation of a traditional Southern accent. "My momma made me breakfast at home."
Phoebe and Tabitha looked at each other and then at their cups.
"Yeah, it is kind of gross with these dirty cups here," noted Tabitha. "I'll recycle these and you two can get started." Tabitha cleared the table, dropping the empty cups into the bin that whisked them away to be recycled for the next month's nutrition. "I do think, " she said as she returned, "that the drink is better than the capsule they used to have. Can you imagine trying to live on three pills a day? And they must have been massive."
Gaylyn shook her head. "I think my grandparents fought for the drinks, too. Something about holding to traditional meals. It's not like we sit around and talk at the table, though."
"Oh my gosh! Did you see that old episode of the show with the family sitting around having a meal of turkey and vegetables and pie for some kind of tradition? They just sat there chewing and talking. It was kind of gross, but they laughed a lot, so there must have been something meaningful in it."
Phoebe loved the old movies that someone thought to add to the PODZ systems back in the day. She was an old soul at heart. All three girls fantasized about those meals they saw in the old shows. The families looked like they enjoyed eating rather than downing food as a source of nutrition. Meals seemed to have meaning beyond the table. Even the simple meals had a purpose, drawing the family together to discuss their lives and ponder their futures. Gaylyn didn't mind that her parents insisted on family time, even if the meal was a drink consumed in a matter of seconds. But she knew her friends wanted what she had, so she rarely shared about their gratitude circle and three chairs around the table.
There had been four chairs once. Gaylyn had an older brother, but his back was broken in an accident when Gaylyn was a baby. She had only seen him in the medical facility where every non-fully-functional lived until they turned 25. Gideon would be 25 next month. Gaylyn didn't want to think about it.
"Helloooooo?" Phoebe waved her hand in front of Gaylyn's face.
"Sorry." Gaylyn said, banishing the image of her brother from her mind. She had studying to do.
Hours later, the girls repacked their tablets. Gaylyn's lab notes were perfectly edited, and Phoebe had rudimentary understanding of her physics homework. Tabitha was easily the smartest of the group, having completed all of her essential core credits by the time she was 13. At 16, she was enrolled in advanced geophysics, hoping that by the time she completed her studies she would be able to lead a group of scientists out of the PODZ to study how the earth had healed in the absence of humans. Most of her teachers believed the waterways would have cleared of pollution by now, even the plastics that had dominated in the 100 years before the PODZ were activated. Tabitha wasn't so sure, but at 16, she hardly had the credentials to argue one way or the other.
Gaylyn reached for her charging cable behind the table and noticed something new. It looked like a bean pod she had seen pictures of in biology class. She knew it couldn't be. Real plants and animals were not part of the PODZ ecosphere. Still, she couldn't help trying to pick it up. It was hairy and sticky, less than two inches long. "Look at this," she said to her friends, holding it out to them. "What do you think it is?"
Tabitha examined it. "No idea. It looks like some kind of organic thing, but it can't be. If anything had gotten through the dome, the filters would have cleared it before it could contaminate the PODZ. "
"Maybe it's something from the fabric recycler?" wondered Phoebe. "It kind of has that look of something partially rendered down to base yarn--like your bag, Gaylyn." Gaylyn looked skeptical, but, having no other explanation, nodded and tossed it into her bag. She'd figure it out later, just to satisfy her curiosity. Maybe she'd share it with Gideon; he had a sense of mysterious things. At the moment, she had to hustle home to be in time for the evening nutrition and gratitude circle. The friends departed, each going down a different spoke of the wheel from the Center to where each lived.
Gaylyn unpacked her bag in her room, making things tidy before the meal. Her mother hated for her to be late, but she also hated messes. Pulling out the thing she had found, Gaylyn looked at it more closely. It was greenish brown, flat, and oblong, with a seam along the edges, like fabric sewn together. She felt small bumps on the inside and she held it up to the light. It was translucent except for where the bumps were. Those felt solid when she pressed them. She heard her mother in the eating area, so she put the thing in the only handy container she had, a replica of a nautilus fossil that she won as a prize in a year 9 science fair. She didn't want to lose it, so she figured the grooves in the nautilus would be a good way to hold it while she tried to figure out what it was and where it came from.
Gaylyn's mother was distracted this evening, and her father's mouth formed a solid line. Neither seemed interested in a gratitude circle, which made Gaylyn squirm. "Is something going on?" she queried, and her mother's eyes filled with tears.
Her father's voice, gruff with emotion, acknowledged the tension in the room. "We saw Gideon today. The caretakers called a meeting with us to explain what happens next month when he turns 25." Gaylyn gasped. She knew the rules, but had pushed the inevitable so deep into her mind that the realization of Gideon's birthday refused to take hold. "As you know," her father continued, "Gideon's physical progress stopped after he regained use of his arms. The crushed vertebrae rendered his legs useless, but we had hoped he would gain enough function in his hands that he could work in the materials center. Unfortunately, it looks like his fine motor nerves will not regenerate sufficiently to contribute to the PODZ."
Gaylyn sat up straight, "What exactly does that mean, Papa? What happens after his birthday?"
Her father sighed as her mother brushed away tears. "He will be sent topside to fertilize the land. The only time any human interacts with the earth is in death. From dust to dust, as they used to say."
"You mean, they're going to KILL him?"
Gaylyn's mother spoke through her tears; her father could not talk. "No. When an injury results in disability, the victim is sent topside to fend for himself or herself. If they survive, they may find their way back and tell us how the land is healing. If they don't--well, the thinking is that by allowing natural predators to hunt and feed, the cycles of nature will resume more quickly. It's our way of appeasing the land."
"So, they're going to send him up to BE killed. Like that's better?" Gaylyn sat back, stunned by this revelation. She visited her brother regularly and they had formed a bond. He was funny and smart, his brain sharper than before the accident. He continued his studies, and she assumed his intellect would keep him safe from the policies of the PODZ. He could teach, she thought. A less than fully functioning anatomy wouldn't affect his ability to research and teach others.
"That's not fair," she wept, resorting to a childish cry because they were the only words she had. Her parents only nodded, each encased in their own dashed dreams for their firstborn. "Go spend time with him," her father said. "Make memories. Let him be your teacher until… ." At that point, his voice failed him, and he stood from the table and exited the room.
There was no gratitude circle that night.
Gaylyn sat at her desk, absently playing with the thing she had found. The texture was weirdly soothing in her fingers. "I need a better name than 'thing' for you," she murmured. "You contain something, holding it inside so it doesn't escape. Kind of like the PODZ. Technically we aren't prisoners here, but Topside… ." She paused to wipe away a fresh flood of tears. "I think I'll call you Pod, at least until I figure out what you really are." She tucked it back into the faux clay nautilus for the night, thinking she could share it with Gideon the next day. The thought of Gideon's future overwhelmed her again, and she fell asleep with tears soaking her pillow.
By morning Gaylyn's tears spent themselves out, and she resolved to make the most of the days she had left with her brother. She planned to spend as much time as possible in the Therapy Unit as possible for the next month. She scoffed at the name. "Therapy," she scowled. "Therapy until they decide you're better off dead and not a burden anymore." Her sorrow abated for the moment, replaced by fury that she knew was pointless. She couldn't change the whole system now that it affected her. People had been sent Topside for fifty years, and she had never thought about it until now. She was disgusted with herself. Someday she would fight against that practice. Today, however, was about Gideon.
Gaylyn found a better container for Pod in a recycled glass box featuring a pattern of colorful squares and rectangles. The man at the recycle center said he thought it came from the windows of an old church Topside, although he couldn't determine how it got to the PODZ. It was smaller and lighter than the nautilus, and would be easier to take to the Therapy Unit. When she pulled the nautilus off the shelf, however, Pod seemed to be stuck fast. "Did you grow?" she wondered. Could her Pod be a living organism? She had easily dropped it into the nautilus, but now there was no easy way to remove it. Stymied, she decided to just take the whole thing with her, awkward as it was.
Her parents were at work elsewhere in the PODZ, so no one questioned her when she left the suite they called home. She got a few stares as she walked, but once she got near the Therapy Unit, people seemed to understand that she was going to visit her doomed brother and they gave her space. Even the caretakers just opened the door to Gideon's room without a word.
"Hey there, Sis," called a strangely cheery voice. "What brings you to my domain this fine day?" Gideon wheeled around in his chair. It wasn't the high tech chair she had seen him in before; this was clearly an old school analog, requiring manual manipulation. Gideon seemed adept with it, spinning it in a circle and popping a short wheelie.
"Where's your real chair?" Gaylyn asked. His other chair was streamlined, fully automated, and had liners filled with liquid that helped regulate his body temperature and promoted muscle activity in a series of pulses that Gideon's spinal cord no longer transmitted.
"A new kid came in the other day. Similar accident to mine, so I told them he could have it. Besides, this one they'll let me take Topside." Gideon's eyes glittered like he had a secret he couldn't wait to tell. Gaylyn was confused, but before she could ask him, Gideon spotted the nautilus in her arms. "Hey, isn't that your science prize? You showed me that when you won it. Did you forget?"
Gaylyn looked at it and then set it on Gideon's desk. "I found something that I wanted to show you. I put it in here because it was small and I didn't want to lose it, but now it's stuck."
Gideon pulled up to the desk to look. "What is it?" he asked, putting on a pair of magnifying glasses and picking up the tool he used to prod things. He had it made by one of the Therapy Unit patients who could still use his hands well and was training to be a detail crafter for improving function of small elements of the PODZ. Gideon looped it around his wrist and thumb, tightening it with his teeth until it was secure in his hands.
"I was hoping you might know. I thought maybe it was just something cool looking from the fabric recycler, but it seems bigger than yesterday."
"Hmmmm," was all Gideon said, engrossed in his examination. "Where did you find it and was it the only one?"
"Near the dome edge at the Center, and it was the only one I noticed. I was with Phoebe and Tabitha." Yesterday seemed like forever ago.
Gideon poked underneath the little Pod, testing to see whether he could pop it out with his tool. Gasping, he turned to Gaylyn. "Sis! This isn't stuck; it has roots!"
Gaylyn peered over for a closer look. "I don't see anything," she said. Gideon leaned toward her. "Take my glasses and look. On the underside where the seam of the thing meets the nautilus."
With the magnification, Gaylyn clearly saw tiny white roots emerging and latching onto the nautilus. The pod itself seemed to be separating at the seam. She was surprised. The only roots she had seen before were in biology class, when they studied plant life from Topside. The books explained that roots reached into the soil, taking in nutrients for a plant above ground. Leaves changed the energy from sunlight into chemical energy in order to grow and reproduce. There were no plants in the PODZ; the idea of the originators was to let the earth above them heal, and part of that healing was a promise to not steal anything, plant or animal, for human use.
"But, how could a living organism be in the PODZ?" she asked.
Gideon grinned. "I have a theory about that. One thing about being in here is that I have lots of time to think. I can use the computer all I want, and there are even some old books I've collected. They'll be yours after…" Gideon stopped suddenly when he saw Gaylyn's stricken face. "No," he added quickly, "I don't think I'm going to die up there. I'm sure they expect it, but I suspect that the habitat is livable. I also think there are people out there. I'm going to find out. That's partly why I asked for this old chair. If there are people, there may be paths I can use. I'm hoping I can find a community to join."
Gaylyn shook her head. "But there can't be people. The virus killed everyone left after the war and the famine. Even if there were, how would you find them? How will you eat? Where will you sleep?"
"Well, even if I'm completely wrong about Topside, at least it gives me something to do rather than wait to be some animal's dinner." Gaylyn turned green at the idea, which made Gideon laugh. "Can you leave this here when you leave? And can you see if there are more? I have a sneaking suspicion that Topside is not the Edenic paradise people around here seem to think."
Gaylyn couldn't smile, but Gideon's demeanor did make it hard for her to stay sad. "It's not much of a paradise if they send everyone topside to be eaten in the grand circle of natural life," she quipped. "What time do you eat here? I can go get my drink and take it to the Center."
Gideon smiled again. "You will not believe it, but I've been getting real food here the last month or so. I don't know why, but it's been an adventure learning to chew and swallow things with texture."
"What do they feed you if not the nutrition shake?" Gaylyn's curiosity piqued; she had to know what she might be missing.
"Some kinds of organic matter. Greens, fungi, tubers, mostly. I don't know how they're fabricated, but there's definitely some real food there. Maybe they have a secret garden where they grow stuff. Maybe they get it Topside and they aren't telling us. It's supposed to be a secret, but what are they going to do if I tell you, kill me?" Gideon laughed at his joke, even though Gaylyn clearly did not find it funny. "Seriously, though, this real food only supports my theory that Topside isn't what they say it is. They also know we can't live down here forever. Eventually, we will all have to move up there. How many will be allowed, I have no idea. How long? No clue. But I intend to find out or..." He was going to say "die trying" but thought better of it. Instead, he sent Gaylyn out to get her meal and see whether she could find more of the pod-things. He planned to research her nautilus organism and figure out what it was and how it got into the PODZ.
Gaylyn took her nutrition drink to the Center, sitting at the same table where she found the Pod. Phoebe was already there, a tablet open to a page about photosynthesis and an ancient portable computer window displaying a quiz for school. Most of the time the interface between human and machine was projection based and verbally driven, but lessons and quizzes remained old school, ostensibly to discourage cheating with AI. Students still managed to find workarounds, even with the limitations, but Gaylyn and her friends preferred to just do the work--it was faster to just do it and not waste time trying to game the system.
"Hey Gaylyn! I'm glad you came; I am stuck on this question about molecular electronic logic. Can you help me? I'd ask Tabitha, but she's AWOL."
"AWOL?" Gaylyn raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean? And since you're obviously taking a test, no, I won't help you; that would be cheating."
"Ugh. Fine. I hope I pass." Phoebe always passed. She took longer than other students, but she was stubborn enough to dig through the permissible materials until she found the answer. "As for AWOL," she added, "It's a really old military term: Absent Without Leave. As in, Tabitha did not have my permission to not be here when I needed her! If you paid more attention in Lit, you would know that." Phoebe winked at her friend whose idea of reading was getting to the end of a book as quickly as possible, retaining only whatever information she might need for the exam and then promptly forgetting it.
Gaylyn laughed as she opened her drink. "Speaking of photosynthesis, do you think we will still have to drink these when we go Topside?"
"Huh? What do you mean? If we are not going to steal from the earth, why wouldn't we still use the nutrition drinks?" Phoebe looked at Gaylyn. "What made you think about that, anyway? There's no telling how long we will be here. We may be grandparents by that time."
"Only if our kids have kids before we turn 75, anyway." Gaylyn hadn't really thought about that PODZ rule. When people turned 75, they were always sent Topside so that the limited resources of the PODZ could be spent on the young and healthy. With Gideon's impending sentence, Gaylyn started questioning all kinds of practices that she had pretty much ignored before.
Phoebe frowned. "Way to be a Debbie Downer, Gaylyn. Sheesh. And before you ask, Debbie Downer is from an early 21st century comedy show. I watched it the other day and it was hilarious. This girl, Debbie… ."
Gaylyn cut her off. "While your knowledge of ancient pop culture is impressive, it's not helping with your photosynthesis and molecular electronic logic. Back to work." Gaylyn winked and grinned, clearly teasing.
"Erf. Why do we have to know photosynthesis anyway? It's not like there are plants here." Phoebe turned her attention back to her work, shoulders slumped, wishing she could turn biology into a comedy show somehow. "At least it wouldn't be tedious," she thought.
Gaylyn finished her drink and opened her tablet, looking for pictures of the Pod, or something like it. How had the thing grown roots, anyway? Didn't organic materials need light and water at the very least? She supposed the faux clay of the nautilus may retain moisture from the balanced humidity of the PODZ, but would that have been enough? She looked near the edge of the dome where she found the Pod. Nothing new there. It looked like it always had: hazy light with a hint of green on the outside. Sometimes rainbows pierced through the haze. Her teachers said that the rainbows were evidence of healing rain, unless it was still acid rain trying to purge the planet of toxins. Gaylyn hadn't thought much about it, but if her Pod was some organic organism, wouldn't that mean the earth was renewed enough for people to return?
Opening a new page in the Horticultural History of the American Southeast, Gaylyn skimmed the images for anything resembling the Pod. One image captured her attention. The picture appeared to be a massive mound of leaves overtaking a field of tall trees and a farm house. It reappeared in several pages, so Gaylyn skimmed the description. It was an invasive plant, featured at an exhibition in the 1800s as a potential way to improve foraging and provide erosion control. Because it was not native to the South, it had no natural enemies and became an invasive nuisance, impossible to control. It didn't respond to pesticides, could not be uprooted because of its rhizomatic tap root structure, and in peak season the vines could grow 30 centimeters a day.
"Holy cow," Gaylyn said out loud in astonishment. Phoebe looked up.
"You know where that term originated?" she asked, happy for the interruption. "People used to think it was from a Hindu religious tradition, but it isn't. It has Gaelic roots--still religious, but Irish American Catholicism. It was… ." Before Phoebe could finish her etymological lesson, Gaylyn covered her ears with her hands and shook her head.
"No more, pleeease! But next trivia night you will be on my team. How can you remember all this inane linguistic stuff and not be able to remember that the smallest transistor is an atom, and light interacting with atoms can be used as a medium for carrying information?"
Phoebe clapped her hands. "YES! Thank you, thank you. I knew you'd help me with this quiz!" She quickly found the source for the information and wrapped up the exam. "Now I can read some more history of words instead of biology I'll never use in real life!"
All Gaylyn could do was laugh at her inadvertent comment. She turned the tablet to Phoebe. "Look at this! It's a plant that someone thought would be a good idea to bring to the Southeastern U.S. from Asia. What were they thinking? It ended up taking over everything unless people kept cutting it down every year. It was impossible to get rid of. It smothered whole regions Topside."
Phoebe found herself interested in the images. "Hey," she said, pointing at a smaller image that Gaylyn had skipped over. "That looks a little like that thing you found the other day--remember? The one that we thought was something from recycling? Do you still have it?"
Gaylyn enlarged the image and transferred it to her projection screen for a closer look. "Hey Artifex," she murmured to the art-based AI, "Create a multi dimensional view of this image." Immediately, a full color view of the Pod appeared. "What is it?" Gaylyn asked herself. Phoebe shrugged, but the AI supplied an answer,
"Fruit of the Pueraria montana, belonging to the Fabaceae family. Would you like more information?"
Instead of declining, Gaylyn shut down the computer and put the tablet in her bag. "Um, I have to go, Phoebe. I think the thing I found is part of something alive-- and I need to know for sure."
"What if it is? How did it get here and what will you do with it?" Phoebe packed her own work as she talked, planning to return the computer so her quiz could be scored, and then spending a few hours with a new philology text.
"I don't know," replied Gaylyn. I'll figure that out as I learn more. If it's really a plant, then that adds a level of questioning that I can't begin to imagine. I also need more time with Gideon, so if I'm not around for a couple of days, don't tell Tabitha that I'm AWOL."
Phoebe grinned at the acronym, but sobered immediately when she remembered that Gideon's birthday was soon. "Oh! How old will he be?" She looked at Gaylyn, afraid that Gideon was closing in on 25 and expulsion from the PODZ. Her answer was evident in the tears filling Gaylyn's eyes.
"It's been a rough couple of days," she admitted. "Gideon has all these crazy ideas about Topside. I left the thing I found with him, hoping to distract him with a project. It will at least give us something to talk about besides -- the inevitable."
Phoebe put her arms out to hug her friend. "I am so sorry," she whispered. "Take all the time you can. I promise I won't think you're AWOL."
What a great story for Earth Day! I especially loved how efficiency seems to get in the way of ethics, like the 75 and over bunch are no longer useful to them. Gripping stuff. The children don't know what they've missed. The turkey and vegetables thing made me sad, as we take so much for granted these days.
Great setup. Wonderful world you’ve created here. I need more!