Empty Planet

by Lynette Sloane

  “So an empty planet experience is no indication of the success of the vaccine,” I said.

  “No Son.”

  “And whatever the outcome of the vaccine, I face a future without Anna?” Dad didn’t answer, but his silence told me that I was right.

  Dad’s pager bleeped indicating that he needed to contact Section immediately. He speed-dialled C and spoke to him for a few minutes, then cut the call off, smiling. I was still feeling justifiably miserable.

  “Good news Steve, Gemma has identified twenty-seven active Earthsong members. These have been taken into custody at Section’s Northern division. Most of these are stalwart members, unshakable in their beliefs, but a few of them might be convinced to leave the rebel group. We have to decide which of these, if any, can be trusted to rejoin the programme. You’ll learn your part in this tomorrow.”

  “Will Gemma be coming back soon or are they keeping her undercover.”

  “She’ll be joining you on a temporal jump tomorrow, then having a well deserved break. This jump will be different, as only a few Jumpers will take part. You and these others will form the Primary Jumpers team. C will tell us more when we see him; we have orders to meet in the Hub tomorrow morning at nine-thirty sharp.”

  The next morning Dad and I travelled to Section using vortex technology. I soon realised why the meeting had been called in the Hub and not in the much smaller boardroom. Fifty or more technicians sat behind their workstations, and over the next few minutes researchers, temporal experts, and everyone else I’d ever seen at Section, and many more that I hadn’t, filed into the large, crowded room. I was told to sit with a group of twenty Jumpers at the front of the room near to the huge overhead viewing-screen.

  All around the Hub people were chatting, but the room became silent when C’s office door opened and he walked to the front of the room.

  “Thank you for attending at such short notice,” he said, looking around at all the faces. “Those of you who have already been briefed please bear with me.

  “Today we are sending the Primary Jumpers and several Earthsong members on a selective temporal jump, which will take them around one hundred and ninety years into the future. We will be using a multifaceted vortex to simultaneously send them to their required destinations … something we haven’t attempted before. Any questions so far?”

  C looked around the room at the crowd, then, as no one had a question, continued, “The object of today’s jump is to identify which rebels can be persuaded to leave the faction and be trusted to rejoin the programme.”

  Turning to face the small group of Primary Jumpers he continued, “This is where you come in. You will be divided into groups of three and sent to your location. Each group will have one suspect to identify. If the suspect says, ‘the earth will sing’, reply ‘and nature will abound’. This will make them believe you’re one of them. Your assignment is to discern whether the suspect is loyal to Earthsong, or if he or she can be trusted back on the programme.

  “Avoid bloodshed if at all possible, but if it is unavoidable shoot to kill. Remember, the rebel jumper’s mission is to kill you. If that is clear, Jumpers make your way to the vortex room.”

  Once there, we were each given a handgun with spare ammunition and a pack of sandwiches. I loaded my handgun, put it in a shoulder holster over my favourite blue T-shirt, and put on a denim jacket, which I left open to give me easy access to the handgun if needed.

  Gemma stepped out of a newly opened vortex. Her face was smeared in mud, as were her ripped clothes. The head supervisor technician, Vanessa, passed her a bottle of spring water and a bag of sandwiches while briefing her on the mission.

  “I’d rather have a good night’s sleep, but thanks,” Gemma told her, taking the remaining gun and ammunition off the table.

  We all watched in amazement captivated by the sparkling lights of many vortexes opening simultaneously around the room. Dad split the Jumpers into groups of three and made sure that each group was standing in front of the correct vortex. This left two Jumpers without a vortex: Gemma and me. Just as I was beginning to wonder where ours was it opened in front of us. We waited for the order to step inside.

  Vanessa informed us, “When you enter your vortex you will have around ten minutes to familiarise yourselves with your surroundings before the rebels arrive. Your return vortex will reappear after two hours, your time. It will track you, so you don’t have to return to the place where you stepped through it.”

  The prospect of the jump made me unusually nervous. I looked at Gemma, she was two years older than me and while we were growing up had always been the taller one. Now in my early twenties, I was a good fifteen centimetres taller than her.

  “You ok squirt?” I asked her, noticing she’d already devoured her sandwiches. She must have been starving.

  “I can still take you on any day, you big lump.”

  “Big lump? You cheeky brat.” We were teasing each other. “At least I can sing in tune. Remember the screeching noise you made outside my bedroom window at Nan’s?”

  Dad spoke, “Come on, play nicely children.” I grinned and Gemma pinched my bottom.

  “Oww.” Everyone looked at me. “Oops, sorry,” I said, smiling.

  Not knowing what to expect on the other side of the vortex made me feel quite uneasy, but having my childhood friend with me helped calm my anxiety a little.

  Vanessa looked up from her workstation.

  “Two minutes to jump,” she said in a calming voice. I looked into my vortex hoping to see our destination.

  The faint outline of a large, derelict city gradually appeared in the centre of the sparkling light. Gemma took my hand and squeezed it gently.

  “One minute to jump,” Vanessa announced. The vortex booster kicked into action making a noise much like my old university computer when the fan came on.

  “Twenty seconds, good luck everyone.” She smiled, “Twelve seconds.” Gemma gave my hand another squeeze before loosing go and taking her handgun out of her holster.

  “Five seconds … three, two … Jumpers go.”

  Gemma and I stepped through the vortex and onto loose dirt and crumbled plaster fallen evidently from the walls and ceiling of the large damp room in which we found ourselves. The ceiling and three of the walls were pretty much intact, but a gaping hole in the facing wall made me question the structural integrity of the building. However, it and allowed us a panoramic view of the city.

  A pleasant breeze blew through the huge hole unsettling the dead leaves scattered on the floor. These must have come from the large bush growing inside the room near to the opening. I stepped closer to it and looked out over the remains of the vast city. We were standing at least twenty floors up in a large tower block. I looked down making sure I didn’t step too near to the edge; I could imagine the whole thing giving way under my feet.

  Vines grew at least five floors up the outsides of the office blocks creeping through the dark, empty spaces that had once held windowpanes. Many smaller buildings were completely covered. Plant life was thriving all over the city.

  “Let’s try to get down to ground level,” said Gemma. “I don’t feel very safe up here.”

  She replaced her handgun in its holster as we picked our way across the damp room. The presence of desks, chairs and filing cabinets indicated that this had once been an office. A computer monitor lay on its side on the floor, its plastic structure having lasted longer than the rotten desk on which it once stood.

  Gemma and I started walking down the square, spiral staircase.

  “Ewww, it smells really damp,” she said.

  A couple of floors lower down I noticed a more pungent smell. In the absence of mankind, mice and rats had become well established. Several floors lower still another smell joined the cacophony: feral cats. The stairs were covered in crumbling plaster and green algae made it’s home over every surface.

  Gemma walked a little in front of me, shrieking suddenly as part of the stairway collapsed
beneath her feet. I grabbed her just in time, tightly gripping her right arm. She hung in mid-air. Lumps of crumbling concrete fell, hitting the stairs below and breaking into smaller pieces. The noise echoed around the empty building for a few seconds before silence was restored. All that remained of the broken stairs was a rusted metal frame. I half crouched with my right knee on one of the remaining steps above the hole, and my left foot astride part of the corroded frame. I grabbed Gemma’s other arm and pulled her up to safety, hoping the frame wouldn’t give way.

  “Who’s a big lump now?” I asked, giving her a reassuring hug.

  The hole extended across the width of the staircase. At least nine stairs were now missing, so there was no way we could cross the expanse to get down to ground level. I imagined that even if we could jump across the gap our prospective landing area would be too brittle to take our weight. Gemma held onto me for a moment ignoring my question.

  She said, “Lets look for another staircase.”

  We checked in a few rooms and quickly found a lift, but, as I expected, the lift cables had corroded and snapped years ago causing the lift to crash to the ground and smash into pieces. Even if it had remained in perfect working order there wouldn’t have been any way to power it. We quickly realised there wasn’t another way down so returned to the staircase.

  “We can’t slide down the banister,” I said. “The rods next to the hole are too badly corroded.” I checked a section of the banister further up the stairs, then called to back down to Gemma, “We could use this part as a ladder … if it will take your weight.” Gemma was slightly built—I was teasing her, using humour to cover up my anxiety.

  The freestanding metal banister had almost come loose from where it had been bolted to the floor. The two of us gave it a few determined tugs and it broke away in our hands. The rods were still quite strong so the rusty banister could be placed on its side and used as a makeshift ladder. We gazed through the hole in the staircase. The steps below seemed to be intact, despite the earlier barrage of falling concrete, so we lowered our ladder until it touched the steps, and I held it in place while Gemma climbed down.

  “Very resourceful.”

  The voice originated somewhere behind me. I turned to see a tall, lean man wearing worn jeans, a shirt and a tweed jacket. The rebel Jumper smiled. He spoke in an East European accent, “The Earth will sing.”

  “And nature will abound. How long have you belonged to Earthsong?” I asked, taking the offensive.

  “About six months.”

  “Me too. My girlfriend and I joined the same night. We’re trying to get to the ground floor. You want to join us?”

  “Why not stay here and wait ’til we get taken back to natural time?” he suggested.

  “You remember our mission. We’re not going to find many Jumpers up here.”

  “You are correct.” The tall man seemed convinced that we belonged to Earthsong. “My name is Gabor, but they call me Gab,” he said. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Steve, and my girlfriend’s Gemma.”

  With Gab’s help I managed to wedge the banister more securely in place, then we both climbed down joining Gemma on the stairs below. She had heard our conversation and looked at Gab suspiciously, adjusting to my cover story.

  “It’s ok love, he’s one of us,” I told her. Gemma gave him an uncertain smile. We continued down the stairway treading as softly as possible, keeping several steps apart so our combined weight didn’t break any more stairs. Gab insisted on going in front telling us he was probably the heaviest, and if the stairs would take his weight they would support us too.

  Near what we thought might have been the twelfth floor several mice ran across our pathway and Gemma thought she spotted a snake. Occasionally, during our descent, birds flew through the empty windows. It was clear that the city was still well populated, although this time by nature. Birds, field mice and other small animals all lived alongside each other. Their enemies, feral cats and snakes, were probably top of this tower-block food-chain, now established in what had in effect become a vertical eco system.

  I wondered why we had been sent so high up in the building instead of to the relative safety of the ground below.

  We took a further five minutes to carefully reach the ground floor where Gemma noticed a heavy wooden door still on its hinges.

  “I wonder what’s in there.” She said.

  “Lets find out,” said Gab.

  Gab and I pushed the door. It didn’t budge; the hinges were rusted in place. Gemma joined us and we pushed one more time. Suddenly the door fell back off its hinges and landed inside the room with a deafening crash.

  “Vandals,” teased Gemma. Inside the room were rows and rows of books on freestanding shelves. This had been a library. We all walked inside the room to investigate. I tried to pick up a book but it disintegrated in my hands. Gab walked next to a shelf running his hand over the edge of the books, which crumbled to dust at his touch.

  “Mould spores,” he said. “They are all around us, but in conditions of high humidity, like this, they wake up. All the books will be ruined. This only takes about one hundred years, so we are too late if we want to take out a book.” He smiled. “Come and look at the CD’s.” We walked across the room to the music and film section. Gemma picked up a copy of her favourite album, Fyring-Squad. The back of the CD had bubbled and it was warped.

  “That’ll never play again,” she said sadly. All the CD’s and DVD’s were in a similar condition.

  Gab spoke to her, “All record of human history is being destroyed by nature. This should make us very happy.”

  “Yes,” said Gemma, playing along, “but I loved that album.”

  I joined in, “It’s funny isn’t it; the Egyptians left records of their accomplishments set in stone—which lasted thousands of years—but for all our advancements we only thought to leave digital records, videos, and paper lasting less than two centuries.”

  Gab looked up inquisitively. “How do you know how long everyone has been gone?”

  Instantly, I felt an idiot; I’d nearly given away our identity.

  “It’s obvious,” I said, trying to recover the situation. “You only need to look outside at all the wild vegetation and the state of the buildings. I had a good look from upstairs. It easily has to be a couple of hundred years.”

  A noise in the corridor outside the library attracted our attention. Gemma and I drew our handguns and took cover behind the bookcases. I noted that Gab was also armed.

  He called out, “The earth will sing,” and waited for the response. There was none, other than the sound of fighting wildcats. Satisfied with the auditory explanation, Gab, Gemma and I made our way to the front of the room, put our handguns away, and looked outside to see if anyone was out there. The library windows would have been grand, each reaching from desk height to the high ceiling. Now they were no more than huge openings that let in the wind and rain, and hastened the demise of the building.

  The scene outside was every bit as bad as I thought it would be when I had looked down from our vantage point high above the city. The buildings opposite us were in ruins, devoid of all windows with vines and creepers growing at least fifty metres up the sides. Trees, large and small, grew out of massive cracks in the walls and on the tops of the buildings. The street space was wide, but was for the most part a deep pool of water with a few cars littering a section of the surviving road, these having rusted away almost beyond recognition.

  The three of us carefully climbed through the window spaces and jumped down onto the street, choosing this exit rather than face the feral cats, which we thought might view us as a tasty meal, a nice change from their usual diet of mice and rats.

  It was clear that the street supports had corroded and given way, causing parts of the road to fall into the subways below. These had probably become flowing subterranean streams within weeks of mankind’s demise. The rest of the road was on the verge of collapse. Not willing to risk it giving way
and taking us to a watery grave, we made our way down the pavement keeping to the side of the road on which we found ourselves.

  I knew there were only a couple of cities with subways in the United Kingdom and wondered if we were in one of those or abroad somewhere: Section preferred to keep our jump destinations a secret, even from us.

  We walked past several shops, some so badly dilapidated that it was hard to tell what they once sold. However, a little further down the street we noticed one containing several washbasins. This must have been a hairdressing salon.

  Some of the wooden shop fronts had rotted and fallen into the street and one completely blocked the pavement. It was almost impossible for us to get past it as the roadway at this point had already collapsed into the flooded subway. As there was no alternative, other than turning back the way we had come, we carefully took the easier route through the derelict shop, and over a pile of rubble, making sure none of us did anything to dislodge any of the larger beams that still held a section of the roof in place. Gab and Gemma left the building through the side doorway.

  “Hurry up,” she insisted. “It looks really unstable.”

  I had a little look through the debris. I don’t know what I hoped to find, but I soon noticed a broken glass display case lying under a small fallen roof support. I slowly pushed the broken support to one side, checking I wasn’t putting myself in more danger, and carefully removed a large piece of glass, flinging it behind me. Inside the case were several small boxes. This had been a Jewellers shop.

  I called to Gemma. “Hey, look over here. I have your birthday present ready for next week.” Gemma made her way back over the rubble and I presented her with a golden locket on a chain.

  She smiled, clearly pleased, saying, “You can tell it’s real because it’s still shiny; gold’s an element and doesn’t tarnish. I can’t keep it though; it would be stealing.”