It did sound good, Donald had to admit, but what he really wanted was to check on his kids, make sure they were okay. But if the phone lines weren’t working, they weren’t working. He nodded and followed Dr. Beck out the door.
69.
DR. BECK was a skinny guy but had a higher tolerance to alcohol than anyone Donald had ever met. He swore he could drink twice the amount someone his size normally could. Then, once the alcohol finally hit his system, he leaned back and fell asleep.
“Dr. Beck?” Donald said. “Hey. Dr. Beck?”
Donald had no problem leaving him there to sleep. There were a lot of Rages outside but they were no closer to breaking in. Now that the Bugs had been destroyed, he hoped they would never have to suffer the kinds of Rage attack they’d had in the past.
Rages would still be around, of course, would still tend to swarm—it was in their nature—but no more destroying communes once they had become a certain size, no more stifling their ability to grow. That really was all they could hope for. It was certainly what he’d wanted.
It was hard enough to have been knocked technologically back to the Stone Age, never mind for an alien race to be parked in Earth’s orbit ensuring they never developed beyond that point.
Donald got up—a little unsteadily—from his seat and took a moment to compose himself on the table. He accidentally knocked it, sending an empty bottle over the side and onto the floor.
Dr. Beck snorted but didn’t stir. Donald moved to the entrance of the food court. Their table was the only one occupied. They’d put some music on, some classic jazz Dr. Beck was a fan of. He left the room and stepped into the corridor.
Empty. Cold. Sterile. Those were the words that came to Donald when he stood in that empty corridor. And quiet. Too quiet. Despite the modern conveniences and advances in technology in the Cities, they were no less in danger than anywhere else. He only knew of two Cities—both of them he’d only known about for the past week or so—and they had both met the same fate.
Death. At this City, inexplicably. Dr. Beck mentioned something about an exposed fuel core or perhaps leaking gas but it wasn’t something Donald even pretended to understand.
Despite the odds, despite every setback and difficulty they’d faced, the human race had triumphed over the Bugs. Their attempt to wipe them out had resulted in their own eradication. They would never get their hands on the Earth’s valuable resources, would never trouble them again. And it had been thanks to his boys, their friends, and Lucy.
A statue should be built in every commune all over the planet for that little girl. She was the one who commanded the human fleets, had led them—although very close to defeat—to eventual victory.
Donald walked down the corridors and paused at the door of a condo. A nice soft bed now was what he really craved but there was one thing that trumped even that. Hearing his boys’ voices.
The communication system was now operational. They could send and receive messages. If a video linkup was possible—as it had been earlier during the battle—then audio ought to be much simpler, didn’t it? Donald had no idea about such things. But it seemed logical enough to him. Not that these things needed to be logical, of course. They could and would operate however they wanted.
He moved to the same terminal Dr. Beck had used before. He was immediately put off by the complicated display of buttons, numbers, and dials.
“How does the phone work?” he said, mumbling to himself.
“Please speak louder so I may assist you,” Computer said.
Donald started, turning to look around him in his immediate vicinity. There was no one there. It was Computer, he realized. He shook his head. This stuff would never get into his thick skull.
“I was just wondering how the phone works,” Donald said. “It looks pretty complicated.”
“The phone system is actually very simple,” Computer said. “One simply inputs the country code, the area code, the local code, and the line will be connected almost immediately.”
“What about to the Mothership?” Donald said.
“The Mothership has multiple phone numbers,” Computer said. “Would you like me to call it?”
“Yes, please,” Donald said.
“Do you know which division or person you’d like to speak to?” Computer said.
“Donny,” Donald said. “Or Jamie. Even Fatty, if he’s available.”
“I’m afraid I have no numbers listed for those individuals,” Computer said. “Would you like me to call the operating system onboard the Mothership?”
“Sure,” Donald said. “It can’t hurt to try. But it probably won’t work—”
“Hello, how may I direct your call?” a computerized female voice said.
Donald sat up and spoke clearly into the microphone.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Am I speaking with the operator on the Mothership? The one in space right now? The one I’m looking at on the monitor?”
“That’s affirmative,” the operator said.
“Oh wow, great,” Donald said. “I need to speak with someone onboard. My sons. They’re on there but they don’t have their own phone numbers.”
“No problem,” the operator said. “May I ask which division they work in?”
“They were in charge of the ship a few hours ago, fighting the Bugs,” Donald said, shaking his head. Not even he could believe the words coming out of his mouth.
“They will be senior members then,” the operator said. “Most likely on the deck. Please wait a moment while I connect you.”
Oh my God. He was through! He waited with bated breath, listening to the dial tone. Each one brought him closer to speaking with his boys. He was elated when it was finally answered.
“Hello?” he said. “Donny? Jamie?”
“I’m sorry, no one appears to be on duty at the moment, would you care to leave a message?” the operator said.
Donald deflated. “Yes. Tell them I hope they’re okay and that I want them to call me back. This is their dad, by the way. Donald.”
“Your message has been recorded and will be delivered to your intended recipients as soon as they’re available,” the operator said. “Is there anything else I can help you with today?”
“No,” Donald said, downbeat.
He’d begun to think he might actually get to speak with them today.
“Thank you, sir,” the operator said. “I hope you have a nice day.”
“Wait,” Donald said, getting to his feet.
They had defeated an alien race, a species intent on destroying them and harvesting the resources on their planet. Surely he could get connected to his kids onboard a damn ship!
“How many other divisions are there?” Donald said.
“Many,” the operator said. “Would you care for a list?”
“No,” Donald said. “Can you see where the people onboard are right now?”
“I do not have security clearance to access the cameras onboard the ship,” the operator said.
Donald deflated. He wished he knew more about computers and phones.
“But I do have access to their location beacons,” the operator said.
“Location what?” Donald said, perking up.
“Beacons,” the operator said. “Every member of the crew onboard must wear one according to the rules and regulations. The deliberate removal of the device can result in being taken off the ship.”
“Where are they?” Donald said.
“They are in the medlab,” the operator said.
Medlab. Medicine. They might be hurt.
“Who’s hurt?” Donald said.
“No one,” the operator said. “One crewmember is lying down now.”
“Who?” Donald said, heart in his throat.
“Mother,” the operator said.
“Is she okay?” Donald said
“Her health readouts are stable,” the operator said.
It was a huge relief. Not least because his kids weren’t injured.
>
“Can you connect me to them?” Donald said.
“Certainly,” the operator said. “Do you have a preference?”
“Donny,” Donald said. “Jamie. I don’t care which.”
“Connecting now,” the operator said. “Please be aware there will be a slight delay on the line due to the distance and the time it takes for the sound to arrive.”
Donald couldn’t believe it. He was finally—finally!— going to speak with his kids. He could hardly contain himself. But he would. . . Until he heard their voices.
70.
THE MEDICAL ward came with a robot doctor that floated around on a mechanical elbow from the roof. It had two arms and hands as well as other appendages—more like tentacles—that came down out of the ceiling to aid it with using items that required a little more finesse.
They placed Lucy on a hospital bed and stood watching her.
“Do you think she’ll be all right?” Jamie said to the robot doctor.
“She’ll be fine,” the robot doctor said. “All life signs are normal. She’s exhausted and needs rest.”
“I guess we should leave her in peace,” Isabelle said.
They left. Jamie remained. Donny wasn’t surprised by this decision.
“I’ll bring you some food,” Donny said.
Jamie didn’t hear him, or if he did, he didn’t respond. He placed his hand on Lucy’s and watched her. She would be all right. He knew she would.
Something caught on the sleeve of his shirt. He looked down and found a fan of pages poking out of his pocket. He took the item out and bent it back into shape. It was Dr. Beck’s journal. The one he had found under the board at the foot of the bed in the two-story house in the town of Jury. He’d completely forgotten about it. Not that he’d had much time to read it.
He opened the cover and began to read. His eyes widened at what he read on those aged yellowed pages.
71.
“WHERE ARE you all going?” Donny said as everyone stepped out of the medical ward and began to go their separate ways.
“I’m going to check on Humperdinck,” Isabelle said. “Poor guy must be terrified.”
“I’m going to see if they have a flight simulator here,” Fatty said.
“Aren’t either of you tired?” Donny said.
“Exhausted,” Fatty said. “But we might not be here much longer. Might as well make the most of the time we have while we can.”
Fatty was beyond Donny’s ability to understand human beings. It was like he shifted between multiple personalities.
“I guess it’ll just be me who gets a little shuteye around here,” he said. “I must be getting old.”
“I didn’t want to be the one to say it,” Isabelle said, leaving through an automatic door before he could come up with a clever retort.
“Incoming call from Denver City,” Computer said. “The caller asked for either you or Jamie.”
“A call?” Donny said. “All right. I’ll take it.”
“If you want privacy, I suggest you speak to him using your communicator,” Computer said.
“Communicator?” Donny said.
A light flashed on his watch. He pressed the screen. The light stopped.
“Hello?” he said.
“Hello?” Donald said.
“Dad?” Donny said.
“Donny?” Donald said.
“Oh my God!” Donny said. “I can’t believe it’s you! We thought you were dead!”
“Almost,” Donald said. “How are you? And Jamie? Are you hurt?”
“We’re fine,” Donny said. “You’re never going to believe this, but we’re in—”
“Space!” Donald said. “I know. I’m looking at your ship on the monitor now.”
“Monitor?” Donny said.
“Yeah,” Donald said. “I’m at Denver City.”
Now it made sense. Who else would fire a giant cannon at an alien ship in the sky?
“Is Jamie there?” Donald said.
“Hold on a sec, I’ll get him,” Donny said.
He entered the medical room. Jamie was right where he left him.
“Jamie,” Donny said, keeping his voice low. “Dad’s on the phone.”
“Phone?” Jamie said. “Dad?”
“Hey, Champ,” Donald said. “How are things going up there?”
Jamie gestured for them to leave the room so they didn’t disturb Lucy.
“How did you guys even get up there?” Donald said. “I mean, I followed your tracks, but still. . .”
“We. . . I. . .” Donny said before shaking his head. “It’s a long story.”
“What possessed you to think that was a good idea?” Donald said.
“It was never the idea,” Jamie said. “Do you honestly think we’d come up here on purpose?”
“You always were a little hard to control,” Donald said.
“But space?” Jamie said.
“I came here with Dr. Beck,” Donald said. “It was a bit hairy for us too. He did some kind of medical miracle on me and pumped me full of steroids. I’m in great shape now.”
“Dr. Beck?” Donny said, senses on high alert. “Where is he now?”
“On a date with the green fairy, why?” Donald said. “You want to speak with him?”
“No,” Donny said. “And neither should you. Dad, he’s dangerous.”
“Dangerous how?” Donald said.
“He tricked us into leaving you at the City when we escaped,” Donny said. “We were going to get you and bring you with us. He told us to go to Denver City because it was safe, and to tell the people here to fire the cannon at the Bug ship, as Lucy’s rocket had taken off without her. It was their Plan B.”
“Yeah, so?” Donald said.
“So, when we got there, the people were dead,” Donny said. “We figured we ought to be the ones to fire the weapon. We charged it up and pressed the button, only it wasn’t the fire button. It launched a rocket, the rocket that brought us here. Lucy said she saw a recording of Dr. Beck apologizing to her that he had to send her here. He lied to us.”
Donald was silent, brow drawn down low.
“Go on,” he said calmly.
“He did it so Lucy could become Mother and link up with the rest of the ship,” Donny said. “He never cared about us. He never cared if we lived or died, so long as Lucy got to the rocket and came here. We had no choice but to fight. Our lives have been on the line this whole time. All because of him. Don’t believe anything he says, Dad. He’d do anything for his project to work out. And he doesn’t care who dies in the process.”
72.
DR. BECK was having a good dream. He was reliving the space fight his team had won, only none of the bad stuff had happened. The kids ripped through the alien craft with ease. He was present too, watching it in person.
Then the elevator door opened to the deck and a bloodied Bug entered. Dr. Beck took a step back. This isn’t right. This wasn’t how the dream was meant to go. Somehow he was conscious it was meant to be a very upbeat dream and something had come in here and disturbed it, violently shoving it into a world of sad desperation.
The Bug marched up to him, big, strong and powerful, grabbed him by the lapels, and lifted him off his feet.
“Wake up, you lying son of a bitch!” the Bug said.
Huh?
When Dr. Beck opened his eyes, he was face to face not with a Bug but Donald. His face was curled with rage, enormous white-knuckled fists raw and mere inches from his nose. He preferred the Bug.
“What’s going on?” Dr. Beck said.
“I spoke with my kids,” Donald said. “They told me what you did to them in the City, how you forced them to leave, and leave me to the Rages!”
“I didn’t leave you to the Rages,” Dr. Beck said. “I rescued you, healed you.”
“You couldn’t have done that if the Rages had found me first!” Donald said.
He threw Dr. Beck back into his chair with disgust.
“You hones
tly thought you would get away with this?” he said.
“I did it to protect the children,” Dr. Beck said. “If they went back for you they’d have died at the hands of the Rages. I did what was best.”
“What was best for who?” Donald said.
Dr. Beck stood up and straightened his jacket.
“For everyone,” he said.
“You think too highly of yourself,” Donald said. “You scientists are all the same. You care more about your work than about people you’re supposed to be helping.”
“Sometimes sacrifices must be made,” Dr. Beck said.
“And how many sacrifices have you made over the years, Doctor?” Donald said. “How many people have died at your hands?”
Dr. Beck’s mouth opened, then snapped shut.
“Everything I did, I did for the victory we had today,” he said. “Your kids would have died rescuing you. Is that what you want?”
It was Donald’s turn to be on the backfoot. He straightened, stronger now.
“That’s not the only time you did it though, is it?” he said. “On the way here, you walked slowly so the kids would get inside the City and blastoff to complete your little plan.”
“My little plan saved the planet,” Dr. Beck said. “You can argue with the way I do things, whether they’re right or wrong, moral or immoral if you want to. I question myself too sometimes. The memories come back to haunt me. But you can never, ever say I did them for the wrong reasons. Hindsight is a powerful thing and only useful to the ignorant or cowardly. I’m neither of those things. I did what I did because I had to.”
“If I hadn’t gotten through to my kids, what would you have done to protect yourself?” Donald said. “Sabotage their capsule on the way back to Earth? Have the computer up there murder them for you?”
“Of course not,” Dr. Beck said. “They are heroes, every one of them. I would never harm them.”
After the Fall- The Complete series Box Set Page 54
