Empty Planet

by Lynette Sloane

  Once back on the soft, wet sand we ran towards the cave, soon realising that it had been cut off by the tide. Behind us, in the distance, we heard a loud explosion and turned to see a ball of fire rising into the night sky. Anna gasped. The men had blown up the bungalow. My plan had worked. The transmitter had led the men to believe we were still inside.

  I spoke with urgency, “Come on, we’ve to get into that cave.” Anna and I were both good swimmers, but in the moonlight it was hard to tell how deep the water was. I knew from experience that the current would be strong, and I would never have advised even the strongest swimmer to attempt this, but we had no choice. A beam of light swept across the beach adding to our urgency. The men were double-checking that we hadn’t escaped before they’d blown the bungalow.

  Suddenly the beam swept back in our direction, catching us in its light. I could see the silhouettes of the men making their way across the top of the hill above the beach. I hoped they wouldn’t find a way down the cliff side too quickly. A barrage of bullets rang out aimed in our direction. Anna and I leapt into the dark swirling water. Neither of us expected it to be so deep or so cold. We disappeared under the water, and swam towards the surface fighting against the undercurrent. The cave was only a few metres away, but each time we got close to it the current dragged us away again.

  A smaller light shone out towards us from inside the cave and two muscular men climbed through the entrance. I recognised them as Red and Goliath, the security detail who had accompanied me the night I went looking for David Senior. Upon seeing us struggling to reach the rocks, Goliath disappeared back into the cave, reappearing almost immediately with a long piece of driftwood. He used it to reach out firstly to Anna and then to me. We grabbed the driftwood and held on tightly as he pulled us from the cold water.

  “Good job your emergency transmitter’s still working,” said Red in his thick northern accent. As he spoke a large wave crashed onto the rocks at the entrance of the cave splashing water all over us. The back of the cave was lower than the front and water was already collecting near the vortex. The high water mark was at least a metre above our heads and I knew the cave would soon be full of water. We quickly made our way to the vortex and stepped through it.

  Anna, Red and I stood in the bright vortex room, shivering as Goliath stepped through the vortex accompanied by about fifty litres of seawater and several strands of seaweed.

  “You take me to the nicest places,” Anna commented.

  Vanessa quickly closed the vortex before we all drowned in seawater. Fortunately the room was watertight in case of such an eventuality and a small emergency vortex, about the size of a dinner plate, immediately opened by the back wall at floor level, draining the water.

  “Where does that go?” I asked, expecting a wonderfully scientific explanation.

  “Down the drain outside the building,” replied the Vanessa.

  After a few encouraging words from C we showered and changed. Due to the nature of my work I always kept spare clothes at Section, but Anna had nothing to change into so I loaned her a pair of my jeans and a sweater, both at least three sizes too big for her. It was better than nothing.

  Dad said, “You can stay in the overnight bunks tonight and move to your new safe house in the morning.”

  I walked Anna to her bunk and lay on top of it with her. She fell asleep almost immediately, so I carefully eased off the bunk, trying not to wake her, and went back to Dad’s office to speak to him for a while.

  “I’m concerned.” I told him. “Earthsong put that transmitter in my filling when I was in the Chateau. They planned the whole thing, wanting me to escape back to Section. I’m afraid I might have inadvertently given them the location.”

  “Section is aware of that. Plans are underway to move the control centre to the primary location as soon as possible. I can’t say anymore.”

  __________

  The next morning Anna, Dad and I met C in his office.

  “I hope you had a good sleep and feel revived this morning,” he said sympathetically. C had a softer than usual quality to his voice, which I think was due in part to Anna’s presence. Turning to face her, he added, “Good news. When your Father moved to his smallholding he covered his tracks like a professional. No one from his past was ever able to trace him. Zee thinks you would be safest staying with him there.” Anna looked relieved. “Steve can go with you. You’ll travel by vortex, and he will stay there with you, travelling to and from work in the same manner.”

  Anna smiled in a way that lit her eyes and melted my heart. I loved her so much.

  “Remember Anna,” C continued, “you can’t tell anyone anything you’ve learned the last few days, not even your Father or David. I’m sending two minders to watch out for you all. They’ll ask for seasonal work, saying they’re students having a year out from their studies, but will still report to me.”

  Anna replied, “Thank you. That will make me feel safer. Don’t worry; I won’t mention this to anyone. I’m just concerned that Dad won’t let Steve stay because he’s very old fashioned about that sort of thing.”

  “We could always bring the wedding forward, if that’s ok with you.” I suggested.

  “Let’s speak to Dad first. You should ask him for my hand anyway.”

  Vanessa programmed the vortex interface and we stepped through the temporal doorway appearing a little way up the lane past the smallholding, so neither Anna’s father or brother would see us arrive in such an unusual manner.

  David and George were standing in the kitchen drinking tea when Anna opened the front door.

  “Anna-bells, you should have told us you were coming,” David said looking really pleased to see her, and to me added, “Hi townie.”

  “Yes,” said George, “we’re not dressed for visitors, especially townsfolk.”

  “Don’t be daft you two, I grew up here, I think I’m used to a few dirty overalls by now. I’ve washed them enough times,” Anna said with a smile as she stepped inside the house.

  George spoke to me, “Come in Son, don’t stand in the doorway, you make the place look a mess.” I walked inside, quietly shutting the door behind me. George walked across to me grabbing me firmly by the hand. “Welcome to the family, boy, Grandma rang and gave me the good news.” He loosed my hand and turned to hug his daughter. “I know you asked her not to say anything ’cause you wanted to tell us yourself, but she couldn’t keep the secret any longer.”

  After a few minutes of general chitchat George spoke to me, “Come on young man, let’s check the sheep in the lower field. I think there’s something you need to ask me. These two can catch up on their news.”

  I walked with George, wondering how I was going to phrase this. Should I be old fashioned and say something like, ‘Mr. Franklin, may I have you daughter’s hand in marriage’, or should I be more informal and simply say, ‘George, Anna and I want to get married. Do you have your blessing?’ Actually, that was a bit formal too.

  Stalling and putting off asking the inevitable question, I asked about the weather, how many lambs they had birthed in the springtime and if the tractors were running well.

  George seemed quite amused.

  “What a lot of corn plasters we buy from the chemist before we finally get to the point,” he commented. I smiled nervously, imagining young lads going into the chemist for condoms, but being too embarrassed to ask for them and buying corn plasters instead.

  “George, you know I love Anna, I was wondering if it was all right … if it was ok with you … you know what I mean … is it ok, I mean, do we have your blessing …” I paused again and George cut in.

  “Of course you can marry her, you didn’t need to ask.” He was grinning at me. “I just wanted to see you make a fool of yourself.” Now he was laughing. I looked indignant, then joined in the laughter.

  We walked back to the house together.

  “She’s not pregnant is she?” asked George, slowing his step and suddenly looking more serious as t
he thought came to mind.

  “No Sir.”

  “Good, ’cause I expect you to respect my daughter.”

  “I always will … I thought we were going to check the sheep.”

  “Nah, whatever gave you that idea? They’re in the top barn.” I think he enjoyed teasing me.

  That evening we had a lovely meal: home grown lamb, mince sauce, potatoes and vegetables. Anna broached the question of us both staying for a while.

  “I normally wouldn’t allow that,” said her father, “but as you’re getting married I’ll make an exception. You’ll have to sleep in separate rooms though.” We agreed to George’s terms. It was his house and we had to respect his wishes.

  Alone in the guest room that evening, I checked out Carla’s website on my new lightweight, seven inch tablet iPhone. My laptop had been destroyed in the explosion at Sue’s bungalow, so C had provided the tab-phone, as they were commonly known, out of his expense account: it was imperative that I kept in touch with Section at all times.

  A few Jumpers had written about their experiences on the selective jump. One who identified herself as Katie wrote:

  ‘I’d always wanted to visit Paris in the springtime but this wasn’t what I had in mind. The abandoned streets were covered in soil, moss, shrubs and mature trees. Creepers grew more than twenty metres up the sides of the higher buildings, through the shop fronts and seemingly though every window space. Feral cats roamed around looking for mice and rats, which were in abundance, but most disappointing of all was the absence of Paris’ most famous landmark. The Eiffel tower lay on its side in many pieces overgrown by creeping vegetation, its remnant standing jaggedly defiant against the Parisian skyline, a mere twenty metres tall. This too was mostly covered in vegetation. I took a few minutes to examine the ruins and found them to be very badly corroded.

  ‘Once home I checked the Internet. I learned that in natural time the Eiffel Tower is painted every seven years in order to keep it in good condition. Without this regular maintenance the connection points would rust together making the construction rigid.

  ‘I concluded that, unable to absorb the stress of high winds, it came crashing down with the enormous sound of screaming metal. Of course I wasn’t there to witness this: I’m just humouring myself, imaging what it might be like.’

  I imagined the same would be true of Blackpool Tower. I’d often visited it as a child and wondered what it would have been like to be there when it fell, and how I would feel about it. I’m sure I would be sad.

  The next day Anna and I slept in until just after nine o’clock, which on a farm is very late. When I went downstairs to the kitchen, George greeted me with the news that he was taking on two students to help around the place. I knew these would be the undercover minders send by Section to protect us from the rebel threat.

  “They start tomorrow at half six,” he said. “That’s half six in the morning, not the evening. You townies need to learn to get up before breakfast.”

  “I’ll get up tomorrow and help you with the milking if you like,” I bravely offered.

  “Don’t worry, I have that covered, I know you have to go to work. You’re with that new Law firm, Seddon, Winkle and Burrows, aren’t you?”

  That was my cover, so I nodded and replied, “I have to be there for nine.”

  In truth, I was expected back at Section to help with preparations for the move to the Primary Location.

  George continued, “Why do Solicitor firms have such silly names?”

  “It’s a prerequisite of joining the Bar.”

  __________

  The next few days passed without event. Section relocated to the new site known only to my father, C, and the Section Directorship, and I settled in at the smallholding. David and George were very hospitable and treated me like one of the family. They continued to believe I was working at the solicitors’ office, but this, of course, was just a cover; Section merely rented one of the back offices. Each day upon my signal Vanessa sent me a vortex to take me to Section and I returned home the same way.

  I hated having to keep up this pretence; it felt like lying. I told myself it was all right as I was working for a Classified Government Department, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

  I booked the local chapel for a small wedding, and Anna, who was getting very bored staying at home, started to make wedding plans, bringing me up to date with the latest developments each night when I returned home from work.

  “I saw a beautiful wedding cake in Symond’s Bakery, so I ordered one for a week Friday,” she told me excitedly.

  “Great love.”

  “And I ordered bouquets and flower arrangements from the florists in Port Glasgow. I want two arrangements set on pedestals at the front of the chapel. They’ll be delivered the night before the wedding. I chose lemon roses to match the bridesmaids’ dresses. What do you think?”

  “Wonderful.” Anna was beginning to realise I was preoccupied.

  “And my wedding dress. I thought I’d wear a dustbin bag and Wellingtons.”

  “Fantastic.”

  “Am I boring you? Are you even listening?” she asked.

  “No Sweetie, I mean yes. Oh, sorry. You could never bore me, I just have a lot on my mind.”

  “You’ve got another jump haven’t you,” Anna said looking worried.

  I had already decided to be honest, so I told her about the jump I had scheduled for the day before our wedding and that it would take me one hundred and ninety years into the future to rescue someone.

  “Don’t worry, I know I’ll be all right ’cause I’ve seen the person I have to rescue when he’s older, and if I wasn’t successful he wouldn’t be here today.” I reassured her.

  “I just about followed that.”

  Chapter 17

  On the eve of our wedding, when most normal men would have been getting ready for their stag night, I reported to Section.

  Dad told me, “Remember, all you have to do is to locate my younger self and send him … me, to the pre-programmed coordinates with the temporal transceiver … or remote, as we’ve nicknamed it. Enter the password, which I’ve programmed as your date of birth, 22-08-2071, point it to a suitable area and press the enter button. It’s that simple.” He handed me the small devise. It reminded me of the one I’d seen him use when he opened the vortex in France.

  “How will I know where to find you when I get there?”

  “I’m going to send you to that cenotaph where you spotted me. After seeing you disappear into the vortex I returned to the same place every day hoping you’d come back for me. Of course I had no idea who you were. I couldn’t have known you were my youngest son as from my perspective he was a baby, safe at home with his mother.

  “And it’s imperative that you tell John to rescue you from the top of that dam or you won’t be here today to rescue him in the future. Do you follow?”

  Vanessa programmed the Temporal Interface and the sparkling vortex lights appeared. I stood in front of them awaiting orders.

  Dad handed me with a small zip-up case, saying, “You’ll need to give this to my younger self. I’m going to refer to him as John and I suggest you do too, at least until you’ve had the chance to explain why he has a grown up son only twelve years younger than himself.

  “What is this,” I asked.

  Dad answered, “A syringe. John needs to inject himself with the contents before he returns through the vortex. It won’t stop him aging but will stabilise his internal organs, thus reducing the side effects of the return jump in the years to come. The vortex must be opened before he injects himself, as he’ll need to step through it almost immediately. If there’s any delay he won’t survive.

  “Sure,” I said, placing the case in my small rucksack next to some sandwiches, donuts, crisps and a plastic bottle of lemonade. I swung the rucksack around onto my back, pausing before I stepped into the vortex, “Dad?”

  “Yes Steve?”

  “I always imagined I’d be h
aving a drink with friends the night before I got married.”

  I heard him reply, “I know, I’ll make it up to you one day.”

  I didn’t turn to look at Dad, nor did I reply to his last comment. Instead, I stepped through the vortex and into a possible future, around one hundred and ninety years after natural time.

  __________

  The day was hot and dry and the undergrowth seemed to be thriving even more than the last time I’d been here. The grasses appeared longer and the hedge thicker even though only about a week had passed in this time frame since my last visit. Maybe it was my imagination but the creepers seemed higher and thicker too. The sun shone directly overhead, not allowing any shadow from the tall buildings on either side of me. I looked around to get my bearings. The cenotaph stood behind me and the remains of the roadway were directly ahead, the greater part of it having fallen into the subway many years before.

  John didn’t seem to be here yet so I made my way forward, pushing through shrubs and small bushes, and looked up and down the decaying street. I could see the subterranean river flowing through the break in the road, but decided not to step too near it in case the ground crumbled away and I fell into the inky water. Nature had completely taken control of the abandoned city. Any remaining parts of the roadway were covered in the usual soil, moss, grasses, shrubs and mature trees. Having reached fifty metres up the sides of the buildings, the creepers had pushed their way through cracks in the walls, forcing them wider and wider apart and increasing the speed of their demise.

  I heard some wild dogs fighting in the distance. Maybe they’d caught a feral cat. I imagined them ripping the poor creature to pieces and fighting over the remains. I shuddered at the thought; this wasn’t a good place to let my imagination run riot. The deep bark of a large dog called out further up the street, followed by several higher pitched barks. These sounded much nearer. There was a strong probability that the dogs had got my scent.