Neon Zero_The Neon Series Prequel Page 4
I’m thankful that at least I got to speak to you once last time.
***
Baines and I took the Grounder two nights ago. The temperature had dropped to 10-degrees Celsius and while there was still solar flare activity, its effects were restricted to the bright side of the planet – for now. The barren, scorched ground was a pale red in the Grounder’s headlights, and dust kicked up around us. Neon had not manicured the grounds around the entrance to any great length; where they had and where trees and plants once grew, only ash and blackened bones remained.
I piloted the Grounder while Baines tinkered with the radio. I felt every bump through the vibrations of the pedal and moved up the gears, reaching top speed as quickly as I could. Radio static blasted the cockpit – we’d left the volume on maximum – and my heart leaped. Baines shouted a curse and then dialled the volume down and searched for the correct frequency.
It was going to be okay, I kept telling myself. I watched the rearview camera as Neon’s lights and dome diminished, becoming both smaller and fainter. At some point it just stayed there, seemingly the same shape and size as the second before, and the second before that.
I focused on the forward view while Baines cycled through the frequencies: “G17 to NS-Ops, are you reading? This is G17 to NS-Ops, can you hear me?” His voice sounded cracked and a little gruff, as did mine – the low humidity of Neon’s air had caused our throats to become dry and scratchy, and out here, a deep breath could be laborious. “G17 to NS-Ops, New Seren, will you fucking answer?”
We rumbled on into the night.
Our growing desperation began to trickle down our brows and necks. We knew the city would be there – where could it have gone? – and yet dread wormed in. I had visions of rolling up to New Seren in a couple of hours from now only to find the skeletal frame bent and smashed and perched over the smoking ruins of the city like an ineffectual mouse-trap. Stalactites of metal frozen mid-drip and hanging, tips still burning orange. The smell of our flesh from the previous day returned to memory, and I could taste the burning bodies on my tongue.
“Nothing,” said Baines. “Do you have any ideas?”
“Have you tried direct SatLink?”
“No, I haven’t tried the foremost method of communication used on this planet.”
“I mean, other than Ops? A private number?”
“Do you have one?”
My heart hammered. I both did and did not want to give it. “Try Jerry: 212-002.” I turned to Baines and watched him nod as he switched the comm back to SatLink and punched in the number. “Turn it up.”
The ring tone repeated and repeated over the speaker. After a while I noticed a pain in my foot and eased off on the pressure I was applying to the pedal. Pressing harder wouldn’t make it go faster.
“Hello?” There it was. I couldn’t speak – my breath had left me and I felt a sting behind my eyes. Baines said “Hi” for me.
“This is G17,” he said. “Is this Jerry?”
“It is. Is Edward with you?”
“I’m here. We’re coming home.” My face ached from smiling ear to ear, stretching the sunburn on my cheeks and brow. I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop smiling if I tried. It was so good to hear his voice.
“No, you can’t. You can’t come back.”
That stopped my smile.
“Listen to me, Edward – if you come back you’ll die.”
Baines and I looked at each other, shocked to silence. In the end he nodded at me, urging me to speak.
“I don’t like what you’re saying, Jerry. What is it? What’s happened?”
We heard him breathing; taking stock. Sniffling, as though holding back tears. “I didn’t think I’d hear from you. I felt for sure you’d be dead by now. Are you okay, Edward?”
“A little sunburn but apart from that –” I was going to say ‘I’ll live’ but in the light of recent revelations I didn’t.
“Yes, apart from that,” said Jerry, snorting a short laugh.
“What’s going on, Jerry? We’re almost a quarter the way home.”
“We’ve been sabotaged. Not just us, but Bergot and Remington too. We ran some diagnostics four, five hours ago on the shielding and discovered the power cells had been discharged. We’re – at best – a day away from critical solar activity, and it’s not enough time to recharge the power cells. The shielding needs an exorbitant amount of energy and we’re running flat.”
“And Neon?” said Baines. He leaned over the communications console as though his words relied on this to carry.
Jerry’s voice sounded clipped. Anger simmering. “We’ve not heard from them. Put two-and-two together and what do you get?”
“Their comms are down,” I said. “We couldn’t reach New Seren from inside.”
“But we were being blocked,” added Baines. “Those bastards.”
A moment of silence between us filled with the faces of the doomed cities; open mouths with tongues of fire and blazing eye-sockets, tears of flame. The domes disintegrating and towers turning to dust. A million screams cut-off in a flash of instant light.
My foot eased off the gas.
“There has to be something you can do?” It sounded more like a plea to the gods than a serious question.
“We’re working on it, but even if we rerouted every available power source it wouldn’t be enough. It’s the same for Remington, and Bergot are already out of power; they’re running on ancient battery sources. Our scientists are all working and communicating together, but the diagnosis isn’t great.”
“Why would they do this?”
Baines stood and paced up and down the cockpit. “They want the planet for themselves,” he mumbled.
“Are you evacuating?”
“Evacuating?” asked Jerry.
“To the smaller domes. Have you heard from them?”
As Jerry spoke, I’d never wanted to be by his side so much. “They’re okay – at least the ones we’ve spoken to. They’re small fry compared to the cities – Neon probably isn’t too worried about them. They’re at optimum occupancy though – we’ve been doing a lot of shuffling to ensure that all the domes have the engineers, cooks, medics and doctors they need to survive in isolation after the event. There’s no room for more of us.”
“They can make room, damnit!” I shouted.
“Edward; they can’t make room for all of us.” His voice came at me from all sides of the cockpit. It was such a strange place to be discussing the end of our worlds.
“Then you! You have to get out! Make it to Alpha One and we’ll meet you there.”
I could visualise him shaking his head. “Sorry, Ed – it doesn’t work like that. Alpha One are taking in the hierarchy right now – twenty or so women and children and Head Doctor Jameson as the leading geneticist in New Seren. Those who can and should go ARE going. Us runts have got to cross our fingers and hope for the best. Turn around. Go back to Neon. Either live or make them pay for what they’ve done.”
If Baines hadn’t been with me I’d have just kept my foot flat to the pedal all the way back to New Seren and prayed to reach it in time. I couldn’t ask that of him though, and he knew it. He sat down in the co-pilot seat and depressed the microphone so Jerry couldn’t hear us.
“You want to go on?”
I shook my head, eyes wet. “No, no.”
“I don’t care. If you want to be with Jerry.”
“No, I want them to pay for what they’ve done – and it’s not over yet. They might find a solution.” I reconnected the microphone. “Jerry…?”
“Yeah, Ed.”
“You do everything you can, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“God damnit, you two,” said Baines. “We’re not turning back. Living a death in Neon ain’t living at all. You should be together, whatever happens. Don’t worry about me.”
“You turn back now, you hear me, Baines? You hear me, Edward?” Jerry’s voice was loud and cracked over the speaker.
“We hear ya, Jerry.”
“Not on my watch,” said Baines, reaching for the control override.
Quickly, I covered the control with my hand. “You’re outvoted, Baines. Two to one.”
“This is bullshit. You want to go and I want to go; you’re damn right it’s two to one.”
In silence, I veered left, bumping over unflattened ground and turning us around. “We’ll make them pay, Jerry. We’ll make those Neon bastards pay for what they’ve done.”
“I know you will. I wish I could join ya. We considered recommissioning the military tanks and heading south with a few rocket launchers, if they still work. But we were outvoted on the council. There’s how many in Neon? And they’re not all responsible, just a handful at the top. Unlike them, we couldn’t justify wiping out an entire population.”
The holo-map reoriented to my left-hand side to indicate we were heading back to Neon.
Jerry continued; “To have come so far; I thought we’d left all this selfishness behind…”
Baines slumped forward, head in hands, and I put a hand on his shoulder. “You should just listen to me,” he whispered.
“If you were that serious you’d have swung a club at me and knocked me out, but you want to go back. I know that, too,” I said quietly. “Someone has to pay.”
We rode in silence for a while, nothing but the rumble of the tires tearing up dust. Then Jerry said “I love you.” They were soft words, but they moulded an anger inside me. I repeated the words and saying them out loud, inside the closed space of the cockpit, failed to do justice to the sentiment. Were inadequate. Did nothing to portray how I really felt. Neon had taken those words from me and destroyed what we had. Franghorn; his deputies and whoever else who knew what they were up to.
“Do you know how they managed it?” asked Baines.
“Undercover operative, most likely, jury-rigging a series of earths that could be remotely activated. After the latest report of solar activity showing how imminent disaster was – which was shared between all the settlements – the power failures began. It was chaos in Ops – there was nothing we could do.”
Baines punched a support strut with the side of his fist. “It had to have been recent otherwise it would’ve been picked up. I bet whoever did it made their escape under the guise of compassionate extradition. Have you checked emigration rosters?”
“No time,” said Jerry. “And what would be the point? Whoever it was was under orders, and long gone.”
“And they probably used a false name,” I added. “I don’t suppose the latest readings have changed the anticipated destruction?”
“No.” That was short and devastating from Jerry – I waited for a conjunction but none came. He always had something more to say. Always. This was the worst of all.
“Don’t lose hope,” I told him.
“You have to be real,” he said. “But your optimism is one of the things I love you for. Never change.”
“I’m not sure that’s something I can promise, all things considered.”
We continued our journey back and Jerry and I reminisced the good times while Baines checked readouts and chambered bullets in guns. It felt so wrong; going in the opposite direction to the voice that I had pinned my entire future on – one that existed only in the past now. I drove on through tears and dust.
CME
Jax stared at his child; placed his hand on the slightly warm glass. Suspended, she looked peaceful curled up in the stereotypical foetus pose, skin smooth. At first he’d felt no patriarchal connection – had actively fought against it as each time he returned her face became more developed. He hadn’t considered the effect of seeing features slowly come to the fore, rendering a personality to be, a face to love. How in the simplicity of a jutting nose and filling lips you could see everything that person might be, potential manifest.
When the first solar warning signs appeared his immediate thought had been about the experiment, and not about the demise of his future home. Which surprised him. Caught him in the gut until he felt about to keel over and puke.
And then he thought about rescuing her and all anxiety and nauseousness disappeared.
Right up until a minute ago he still hadn’t been sure about the rescue, but seeing her changed all that. Changed everything.
He’d need the twins’ help if he was to get her out safely.
He retreated back a room and stood in the doorway shouting the girls’ names.
“What is it?” one of them called back.
“I need your help!” He panted; his body could withstand the atmosphere better than most but genetic alteration had done nothing to combat nerves. His heart pounded as he heard them climb up through the ship, giggling.
“What is it?” said Lani, pulling herself up.
“I’ll show you both at the same time.” He waited for Scarlett and then continued. “For the next however long it takes I need you to be focused, and calm, and just do as I say. You’ll have questions and I’ll answer them but first we have to complete a task. A very delicate task.”
“Told you,” said Scarlett. “He’s been building an army of robot slaves in there.”
“Sex slaves.”
“Quiet!” he shouted, “and listen to me. We don’t have much time.”
“Geez, Captain Dickwad, much,” said Lani.
Jax felt bad for shouting, but he could apologise later. “Follow me.” He stepped up into the lab and went down the other side, and they followed.
He scanned the room for what he would need while listening to the girls’ exclamations of wonder. He heard the uplilting assonance of their sentences, no doubt questions he would have to answer soon. He’d left the child covered, for a great reveal, he told himself. The great magician. The magnificent Moreau! The truth was he was afraid of their reaction and wanted to have at least some control over the situation.
He wheeled a trolley across the lab to the table with the artificial womb, and turned to Scarlett and Lani. This was it, they could feel it; he could see their curiosity burning in their eyes.
“I told you I was running experiments in here. I even told you that some people might not approve. You might not approve. Well, this was one – now before you get bent out of shape, if I’d have known how things would have developed, I wouldn’t have done it. It was stupid. I was an idiot to think of myself as some God. Solar fucktivity be damned!” He lifted the sheet and the girls gasped.
“And now it’s gone this far I can’t just leave her here to get vaporised, so will you help me?”
They each shook their heads in sync; Jax fleetingly thought how creepy this was and mentally noted it as yet another twin phenomena, and then they spoke.
“We joked…”
“… but we never really thought…”
“… that you would actually grow a live person…”
“… in here.”
“Are you crazy?”
“What were you going to do?”
“Keep her here?”
“Move here and raise her?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” said Jax. He’d acted on impulse, as he was prone to do, just a few months prior, and kind of just let the experiment run, expecting it to fail at some point and when at first it didn’t, he’d actively tried to keep it running.
“Who are the parents?” asked Lani, face suddenly looking very grown up.
The one question he didn’t want to answer. “I don’t know… some cryo-frozen specimens I found.” He pulled the trolley in close. “Help me. We’re going to need to safely get her to the bottom of the ship and from there, we can use one of the motorised trolleys all the way back to Arcadia.”
“She’s too heavy, surely?” said Lani.
“She’s not!” he sounded desperate now, and took a deep breath. “We just need something to lower her and the equipment down in. I can take the weight at the top, and you can take the weight at the bottom. Pass the parcel, just like when we were kids.”
“… some of us.”
“Will you help me or not?” He looked from one twin to the next; their blue eyes flicking from him to the burgeoning embryo that would share those eyes. Scarlett stepped up and seemed impossibly large suddenly, as she placed her hand on the glass. Lani joined her, and in unison they shared a glance and said “We can’t just let her die.”
“She’s beautiful,” added Lani.
“Then we’re agreed.”
They each punched him on an arm. “You know this makes you look like some kind of mad scientist right?”
“I am what they made me.” He was getting impatient now and they had no time to ponder this statement, though it would percolate there at the back of his mind for when he did have time.
The ship shook.
The wall-that-was-a-floor trembled and knocked them over. “Not now, not now,” moaned Jax.
A roar loud enough to be heard within the closed confines and thick hull of the ship blasted them. “What was that?” It could have been either of the twins speaking; Jax was too shaken to concentrate.
He jumped to his feet and ran towards the exit. In the adjacent room he climbed up into the cockpit, pulling up on rungs designed to be used in zero gravity. When he reached the forward chair he slumped back into it, facing the sky. Darkness reigned beyond the view screen. He powered up the dashboard and waited for the boot sequence to light the controls. It was a blend of analogue switches and buttons that were mostly manual overrides of digital inputs; he liked to imagine it a graveyard, each switch a tombstone. Luckily they did not all mark the dead. He flicked the manual virtual control switch and pulled down a headset from the compartment ‘above’ his head. Once it was on his head he depressed a button in the side and he viewed the outside of the ship.