They watch another dome being evacuated. This one was overrun by illegally engineered animals in the night.
‘That’s where the old cinema was,’ Jack says as people continue to flood out.
He remembers the old days, being shuffled between underground shelters while offices and homes were demolished to make way for the biomes. The aquadome sits on the site of his old factory, where another tanker pulls up ready to transfer whatever life could be rescued from the sea.
‘I miss the old days,’ Jack says.
Mary coughs, swallows blood, and runs her fingers over the synthetic plants. ‘Time heals everything. As soon as the bio-plants survive out here, things will pick up again.’
The nitrogen dioxide forecast wasn’t good and Jack’s chest hurts already. ‘I wish I could change everything,’ he says.
‘But we can’t,’ Mary coughs again. ‘They said it was just scare stories, love. Nobody believed them.’
They hold hands and gaze at each other through their respirator masks. He’ll tell her about the eviction later — no point upsetting her now. Maybe a move will do them good, it’ll give them a new start, another chance of recuperation and life — whatever that means now.