by L. E. Howel
“I said I couldn’t, it was too late and I was locked into the contract. She cried and said I would always be in their hearts. That was it, I never heard from them again. They couldn’t take it, the emotion of it all, so they missed the launch and everything. That was the worst day ever. Sitting there on the launch pad about to be blasted from what I had sought all those years. It seemed as though the fire of those engines was burning my own heart to cinders.”
Birch remembered that day. With shame he also remembered that he had seen her tears at the launch and had pointed it out to Ratliff with a knowing wink. He had taken it as a sign of her weakness and proof that he was right, now it seemed to tell him more about himself than he really wanted to know.
“You want to know the funny thing,” Karla continued. “I don’t think my mom would ever have told me all of that if I had stayed. It was only at the very end that she could tell me, and then only when it was too late to do anything about it. Why do you think we do that to each other?”
Birch shrugged uncomfortably and looked at the ground.
“I don’t know,” he muttered after an uneasy silence. She was expecting an answer and he knew he didn’t have one. “We do whatever seems best at the time I suppose.”
“But it’s usually wrong. We go through life like ghosts, never touching the world around us or being touched by it in turn. We’re all apparitions of ourselves. Life could be so much more if only we would reach out and grasp it. We don’t. We’re satisfied with ourselves until the very end. Only then do we wake up to our mistakes, but by then it’s too late. That’s why this mission and our crew mean so much to me now. I’ve seen the mistake in my life before the end, while I can make a difference. This is my life, my only chance. It’s important for me to hang on to this last family now,” Karla looked into Birch’s eyes, “you are all that I have.”
Birch looked away.
“I hope the others are okay.” Her voice wavered. “I want to see them again.”
“We will soon enough,” Birch concluded confidently. “We’re all headed for Washington, so I’m sure we’ll see them again soon.” Karla nodded and smiled.
They continued in silence for a time. Karla seemed spent, exhausted by their conversation.
Birch kept his eyes on the horizon. No evidence of civilization presented itself to them as they walked. He wished for some break from the monotony and from the privacy of his own thoughts. Karla’s pain was a little too close to his own for comfort, and any distraction would have been welcome.
His mind turned again to the Ares threat. In the daylight he hadn’t given them much thought, but as the day turned to afternoon he found himself wondering about their strengths out here on the plains. There hadn’t been any sign of them yet, but he knew they were around.
He had no idea how many of them there were so it was very difficult to know just how much danger they were really in. It was strange to him that the city had been so empty, that the Ares hadn’t taken possession of it. He might have thought it totally abandoned, but for the incident at the motel. One Ares on his own, that didn’t seem to fit with what Edwards had told him about their way of working, but then it didn’t seem like much that he had seen had fit into that pattern anyway.
“Over there,” Karla’s voice broke in on Birch’s thoughts. She was pointing toward the horizon where a clump of trees could be seen, dwarfed against the wide, open sky. “That’s a sure sign of a settlement out here,” Karla shouted. “I think that’s it, so we should be there in a couple of hours.” Birch nodded but wasn’t cheered by the news. This was going to be tough for Karla, and for him.
THIRTY-TWO
This was safety. As tenuous as it was: this tiny courtyard, in this insignificant base, on these wide plains was a haven. It was all he had, and he clung to it. It was enough, for now.
He was alone in this small courtyard at the center of the base. It was lush with abundant vegetation, but it was a wild, overgrown abundance, the result of neglect rather than care and cultivation. Wild vines climbed the grimy, grey walls. They crept along the crumbling cobbled terrace. They choked a solitary tree struggling for life and light in a dreary corner of the enclosure.
This was meant to be the heart of the oasis. It should have been the hub, a center of hope where a generous garden of trees and plants alien to this harsh land would take root. It was part of their plan to change the world. Towns would grow up around them. It would spread from here and from all the other bases like it, until they had transformed this grassy desert. But it wasn’t happening. The walls were still here. The flaming sword of their military still guarded this garden from the savage hands and feet that would trample and destroy it, but what was inside had turned rank and rotten. They were defeated before the Ares had even gotten in.
Edwards sat on one of the rusty, metal chairs scattered randomly about the place. He had placed himself in the slender sliver of warming sunlight and was gazing up into an unblemished sky. A bird floated high above and he watched it, dreaming of more peaceful times. He knew in just a few short moments things would be very different and he wanted to take this last chance to rest.
They were almost prepared. The trucks were loaded, weapons were restocked, and food supplies were replenished. After a few final adjustments every physical measure would have been taken to be ready for the journey ahead. Mentally Edwards felt less ready. That was why he was here. He was finding some sense of peace in the madness before they left.
The pallid leaves of the clinging vines rustled, and the bare branches of the tree clacked against the stone as it creaked and swayed in the wind. There was no peace here, only empty desolation. He sighed. Already Jane and Lauren were making their way toward him and their faces told him that his moment was over.
“Hiding out under the tree?” Jane asked ironically. “I can’t say I blame you. This seems like the only place around here not humming with tension over our little trip. Of course no one ever talks to us about it. We’re just the ones going, so whenever we’re around things get very quiet. You can tell it’s all about us though by the looks on their faces. It’s like they’re saying ‘good luck, you’ll need it,’ with their eyes.”
“That may be true,” Edwards responded. “We will need it. We’ll all need it. There are big things happening out there right now and I think a little luck wouldn’t hurt.”
“So what are our chances?” Jane asked directly. She seemed to feel she could trust Edwards enough to get a straight answer to a straight question. “I’m not sure I believe what those guys told us in the meeting. It doesn’t seem right. I think it must be a lot harder than they’re telling us, and the way everyone’s been acting here only seems to confirm it.”
Edwards laughed. “You’re starting to sound like Major Birch. I thought you trusted us.”
Jane frowned at the mention of that name.
“Things change,” Jane fixed her penetrating gaze on Edwards. He almost looked away. “I don’t like the way they talked to us in that meeting. More to the point I didn’t like the way they didn’t talk to us. It seemed like we weren’t even important, like we didn’t even exist. Why won’t they talk to us?”
“They’re military. They don’t talk to anybody. You might have noticed that they didn’t have a lot of time for me either,” Edwards confided. “And you’ll also notice that it didn’t take them very long to relieve me of the command, or to place the blame for their past mistakes on me. We’re outsiders here so they won’t say anything they don’t need to.”
Jane looked puzzled. “So what’s the difference between you and the others? You all work for the same people don’t you?”
Edwards laughed bitterly. “I doubt that things were really that different in your day. You know how it is, one agency against another, friendly competitors can quickly become bitter rivals and eventually enemies. The army and the DA are like that. We’re not exactly enemies, but I guess we’re not exactly friends either. If you look back I’m sure you’ll see the same
in yourselves.”
“I do.” It was Lauren’s voice that answered. “I know exactly what you mean.” Edwards was startled. To him it seemed that the young woman had come to life for the first time. She appeared ready to say more, a look something like anger crossed her face, but an instant later the calm had returned and she thought better of it. She had descended back into the shell that protected her. Her eyes dulled and she was quiet again. Edwards wondered about her. She almost seemed like a shadow of the rest of the crew. She was always there, but somehow she was never there, the silent, invisible element that would eventually go unnoticed once you got used to her. Edwards wanted to notice her, to say something kind or helpful, but Jane was already speaking.
“Do you really think their plan will work? Is their alternate route south any safer?”
Edwards shrugged. “It could be. The maps seem to show a clear path down there for now, but it all depends on what happens. If the attack goes well then there won’t be much to worry about. That’s a big ‘if’! If anything goes wrong then there could be plenty to worry about.”
“I knew it! I knew those guys were glossing it!” Jane barked. “It’s stupid to hope we could just outrun them. What do you think our chances really are?”
“Well, that’s hard to say. Even a partial success for the army could still mean trouble for us,” Edwards’ voice had descended to a hush, as though he were divulging a great secret. “If the enemy force isn’t totally destroyed in the north it’s likely they’ll splinter off into smaller groups. I would expect some of them to go to the south. It’ll be a natural corridor of escape. Depending on the size of group, we could be in a lot of trouble if we run into any of them.”
“And didn’t the army think of that?” Jane’s voice was incredulous.
“Of course,” Edwards answered smoothly. “They think of everything. They don’t always know what to do about it, but they do think of everything! I’m sure they don’t like it, but they seem to believe that this is the best choice. We just have to hope that the troops to the north can route them, or if not that we at least can avoid any of the run-off.”
“Then wouldn’t it just be safer to just stay here? We could wait behind the walls until it’s all finished and then walk out safely.”
“No,” Edwards’ voice was barely audible now, “that’s the other issue you raised at the meeting.” Jane looked blankly at Edwards. “When you talked about the attack in the mountains you suggested that maybe we were the focus of the attack, that we were the start of all this uprising. I think you’ve struck on something important there.”
“But that was the one thing they were most sure of, that it was all part of a wider plot and not directed at us at all.”
Edwards laughed again, perhaps more bitterly this time. “I’d thought you were beginning to learn how things worked. It was their very adamancy on that issue that made it most convincing! They know more than they want to tell. I sensed that myself in the meeting. It all really confirms what I’ve felt for quite a while, even before we were attacked on the mountain. Little signs that something big was brewing and we were right in the middle of it.”
“I still don’t see why we don’t wait here,” Jane complained again. “Why are they pushing us out from the one safe place in this dangerous time?”
“Yes, you obviously don’t see, Major.” Edwards’ words came harshly. “This isn’t a safe place and the reason we have to get out of here today is that they know it’s only a matter of time before they’re overrun.”
“But you said these places were safe,” Jane’s voice was exasperated, like a child promised something she couldn’t keep.
“Were safe is the best way to put it. When this place is hit with the kind of mass attack the Ares have been launching across the plains, then it will not stand. The soldiers here know that. They’re sending us away early. We were supposed to be here at least another three or four days to let things blow over. They’ve heard something. They’re not telling you, and they haven’t even said anything to me, but the Ares are coming. I’m sure of it. This base will fall. They’re doomed. The commander has just left himself enough men to make a stand at the end and give us enough time to get away.”
“That’s fatalistic. There must be something we can do.”
“Run, that’s about it. There isn’t any help nearby.”
“So why don’t we all run then? Why should they stay and defend a base that they know they can’t hold? We would be stronger if we ran together.”
Edwards paused for a minute and looked around. Finally he gestured to their withered surroundings. “This is what it’s all about,” he murmured. “They will defend it. If you weren’t here we all would stay to defend it, but we have to get you to Washington.”
“This? You all want to die for a bunch of dead plants and some walls?” Jane’s voice was angry. “No wonder you can’t win this war. What a waste! It’s stupid.”
Edwards glared angrily back at her, his lips compressed into a thin line. He said nothing for some time. When he finally spoke his words were cool and rational.
“Remember the Alamo. Maybe you’ve never understood those words. Maybe you’ve heard them but they only echoed in your mind, reaching no deeper than some superficial history lesson in high school! Well, we once knew what they meant, and what they told us about the men who fought there. More importantly, we knew what it told us about ourselves. That we were proud of those who fought for what they believed.
“What was the Alamo? The place itself meant nothing. It was just an old mission that was hardly worth defending. When you travel to see it you wonder that anyone would care what happened to a place like that. In the cost of bricks and mortar what really was its worth? Not much. It was hardly a thing worth dying for. You could easily replace it, build another one just like it, or even better than it, but still men fought for it. Not because they loved that structure, or even the ground upon which it was built, but because they loved the idea of it. No thing is worth dying for. People die for ideas, not the pitiful things and objects that represent them. This fort might not seem to be worth anything to you, but the idea is worth everything. Don’t question those brave enough to defend it.”
Jane shook her head. “It sounds like boys and their games to me. You and your army can play fort then, and chase, and whatever else you want to get up to with the Ares. You can even drag me into it with you because I have no choice, but don’t expect me to applaud you or support you in any of this.
“You know, your ideas sound a lot grander than the grim reality of death and destruction that will happen because of them. Some day it might actually be nice to see if people could live for ideas instead of die for them, or better still listen to ideas instead of kill for them.”
Edwards rose to his feet. He glowered down at Jane. She knew nothing. He wanted peace more than anyone. Edwards had tried to understand the Ares more than anyone, but what Jane expected was unrealistic and stupid. Her way would open them up to destruction. One day they would understand the Ares, but from a position of power and strength. That was the only way to deal with them.
“I think,” Edwards hissed icily, “we’ll see what happens when you meet up with the Ares again. You’ll get your chance soon enough, I expect. I’ll be interested to see what you think of their ‘ideas’ then.”
THIRTY-
THREE
Only the trees remained as a testament to what had once been a town. The destruction was complete, much more so than in the city. Where Denver’s buildings had been attacked in an almost haphazard way, leaving some standing and others destroyed, Goodland had been razed to the ground. Nothing was left.
The sight of each new street and their flattened structures seemed to plunge Karla deeper into depression. She glanced around her helplessly. Occasionally she stopped, as though trying to fix things in her mind. It wasn’t good for her. She seemed to be crumbling physically in these surroundings, to be collapsing into a pile of human rubble. Birch kept
trying to hurry her along, to get her out before she totally fell apart.
“That’s the museum, the ball park’s down there, I played tennis sometimes over there.” Karla pointed to identical patches of bare earth and broken fragments of buildings. “That’s the school, the drug store, the church, the library.” All of these barely distinguishable sites came to mean something this one last time. Karla was the only one who knew them, whose memories had the power to bring them back to life. For this one instant these places were something more than what they had become, because someone remembered. They were home, but once Karla left Goodland would slump again back into its anonymity, eventually to succumb to the creeping prairie grasses nibbling away at its very existence. Karla seemed to sense this and lingered. It was her life that fueled the town now, and Birch urged her on before she was completely consumed by it.
As he watched Birch imagined that he could see a change, like she was draining away. Her skin had turned a pale, salty white. Her eyes were dreamy and glazed. She was living in the memories of this place and Birch feared she might never want to leave if he didn’t get her out soon. He almost pushed her through the final few yards toward the open country on the other side. He felt some relief at that point, until he remembered that Karla had said that her old home was on the eastern side of town. The greatest hurdle still remained and he was worried about how she would take it.
Her house was a couple of miles from town and that at least gave them time to digest what they had already seen before the next specter presented itself. Karla led the way and strode silently ahead. She seemed unwilling to talk, but Birch thought it would be better for her if she did, the only problem was what could he say? In the end there wasn’t anything he could say and so they remained silent. Finally Karla herself spoke.
