Connecting Continents
The wind was strong but the drive to finish was stronger. Half a dozen workers looked on through the icy darkness, bundled up in thermal neon red coveralls under beating construction lights with an anticipation few would ever know.
…
"I'm reporting live from the nearly finished Bering Sea Dam over one of its five, mile and half long suspension bridges. This bridge, the last leg in this five-year, nonstop megaproject, spans one of five gaps purposefully left in the dam to allow for the passage of vital shipping traffic to the ever growing, and warming, Arctic region."
The reporter looked out his helicopter’s cabin window and chuckled at the inspiring view.
"Tonight," he continued, "after more than 10,000 years, the continents of Asia and North America will be reconnected in a feat of engineering unlike anything seen before it. Workers from Russia and America will lift the final section of road into place from its holding barge and finally be able to shake hands in the middle of the Bering Sea. Frigid nights, treacherous seas, and the deaths of over fifty people have all lead to this historic moment."
…
Radwa glanced down off the bridge at an on-looking UNIRO vessel, the UNS Salvation. It carried survey teams, government officials, and members of the international press. Beaming lights from across its sleek deck shimmered off the calm surface of the sea. A news helicopter circled overhead. A second one shortly followed. A Phoenix 1 aircraft hovered in place a thousand feet directly above the site acting like a giant manned weather balloon for the lift.
The scale of what they had done finally hit Radwa after so many years. They had dammed the mighty Arctic Ocean. They had caged the untamable beast in order to save it. A smile overcame her so quickly she was embarrassed by it.
"Begin the lift," she heard in her radio.
A long warning siren went off. This was it. Diesel motors inside a massive lifting device that straddled the unfinished road deck powered on with a mechanical roar. Dozens of steel cables went taut as the weight of the final bridge section arose from its holding barge in the freezing waters below. A large Russian, American, and UNIRO flag, each the size of a basketball court, forcefully flapped beneath it. Workers began to clap and cheer as the bridge piece cleared the barge and went completely airborne.
Radwa realized she had been holding her breath. "Come on," she whispered. "Come on…"
The piece slowly rose higher and higher into the wintery air, swaying gently. The construction team only had a few hours left to do this before a storm system swept through that could delay the operation by more than a week; time they did not have.
"Wind check," someone radioed.
"Still within tolerance," someone answered. "All lift sensors are green, over."
…
"Halfway there," announced the reporter, gripping his microphone tightly.
…
"So far so good," Radwa anxiously observed. "Come on…"
It was an unbelievable sight. The multi-ton piece, being held up by nothing but three-inch diameter steel cables, seemed to be hovering in the air, rising via some mythical force. Having the opportunity to work on the dam was her life's greatest accomplishment. She did not have children of her own but she thought this is what a parent must feel like seeing their baby graduate, pass a test, get married. Radwa felt proud to be there. She felt proud to be something she hadn't ever been proud of being before. Human.
"Hold! Hold! Hold!" someone hastily shouted over the radio. "Lift sensors are going red."
Radwa looked down at the bridge piece through the unfinished road deck and saw it suddenly, and disturbingly, move out of position, fiercely groaning and moaning as it did above the sound of a strengthening gust.
"Cable stress critical," alerted the lift operator. "Wind speeds exceeding tolerance!"
Two cables snapped with a whip, slicing through the pushing wind.
"No, no, no, no!" Radwa yelled, holding onto her hardhat as the wind further increased.
The three large flags grabbed the squall like sails, forcing the bridge piece to continue turning with the wind, straining the remaining cables. Alarms started blasting across the bridge.
"Those idiots," Radwa gasped, watching the flags and wind wrestle. "It’s the flags. The flags." She looked around and saw everyone running away, fearing a collapse of the lift. "The flags! Lose the flags!"
She began sprinting towards the lift, which looked a like a mass of yellow steel girders, winches, and cable spools that was all anchored to each central end of the unfinished road deck it straddled. Another cable snapped.
"Clear the bridge! Clear the bridge!" someone ordered her from far behind.
Radwa didn't turn back though. She made her way through the lift’s steel mess, moving as swiftly as she could over the narrow girders hundreds of feet over the black water. Under her feet she could feel the lift being dragged out of position by the dangerously swinging piece it was attached to. Making her way to an intact steel cable she wrapped her legs and arms around it. She looked straight down at the drop.
"Crap," she said, rolling her eyes.
With a deep breath she eased up on her grip of the cable and slid down its length hundreds of feet to the out of control piece.
…
"What the hell is that person doing?!" the reporter cried.
…
She landed hard on her work boots, tumbling down atop a girder. Radwa felt herself losing balance. Her legs slipped off, then her torso. She reached up and franticly grabbed the girder, her hardhat falling to the sea below in the process. Holding on for her life she swung her body back up onto the steel girder. After resting for only a moment she saw another cable snap, unleashing a moan that shook her to her core.
"Oh no," she gasped.
Up above, the lift was straining against the stress. She could hear bolts breaking apart. Radwa got up and oriented herself. She saw the American flag rustling back and forth just below her feet. It was tied to the beam with nothing more than a simple, thick rope at both ends.
She ran to one end and using her knife began to cut her way through the first rope. It broke quickly as it was already under so much strain from the tugging flag. She ran to the next connection point and cut it as well. The American flag rapidly blew away once let free, into the night out of view from the lights of site.
Next was the UNIRO flag. It was down and gone within another twenty seconds. Finally came the Russian flag. Radwa cut the first connecting rope with no problem. As she made her way to the final rope another steel cable broke. The side of the bridge piece she was on suddenly dropped several feet with a horrid metal moan. Radwa fell to the girder, banging her chin badly.
"No!" she yelled, watching her knife fall from her hand.
Radwa painfully crawled to the final rope. It had become frayed from rubbing across the girder but even still she knew she could not break it without her knife. She glanced out below the girder at the red flag and got an idea even stupider than the one she was currently acting out.
Waiting briefly for the flag to roll up towards her left side she jumped off the girder before she could change her mind. She grabbed the flag and wrapped it around her body like a circus performer. As if knowing what she was trying to do, the flag began waving seemingly faster than it ever had before. Radwa could barely hold on. She lost her lose grip and continued sliding down the red fabric. At the last possible moment she managed to grab its tattered waving bottom.
Radwa scowled up at the rope. She tugged and thrashed her arms down.
"Come on!" she groaned. "Break! Break!"
Another cable broke. The bridge piece tilted further. Alarms continued to blare. The moaning only grew louder. Radwa tugged again. She thrashed her body harder. She tugged again and again and again.
"Come on you bitch!" she screamed, tugging so hard she thought she was going to break her arms. "Break!"
With a nearly silent snap the rope broke. Radwa and the flag plunged at the mercy of gravity. The winds carried her fading cheers back to stunned faces on the dam as she was consumed by the abyss.