The Dead Room Trilogy

by Stephanie Erickson

  “I just don’t think verbally abusing this young man is terribly productive at a time like this,” Walter insisted.

  “Walter, let’s just go,” Gertrude suggested, shifting their youngest to the other hip as she talked, a look of desperation on her face.

  Walter frowned, looking at the young man in question. The soldier’s face was stony, but his eyes revealed a hint of gratitude. He gave Walter a short nod, and Walter returned it.

  “All right, then. Thank you for providing us with food and blankets while we wait,” Walter said to the soldier.

  The man nodded again, and Walter moved on. The further he got into the crowd, the worse the mood was. He could feel the low hum of anger all around him. It made his skin crawl.

  “I don’t like this one bit, Walter,” Gertrude said.

  “Me neither.” What else could he say? He had no solutions. The crowd was huge, and he was only one man. He’d only been there for an hour or so. If he’d been cooling his heels in subpar conditions for over a day, he’d probably be ticked off too.

  They finally made it to the food table, each taking plates of fruit, meat, and crackers. Once they moved away from the food area, the dilemma of where to sit and eat hit them. It felt like every space was occupied by a body. As they moved, they had to ask people to let them through and work hard not to bump into others.

  Finally, they found a quiet spot near the back wall. Walter told the two children to sit against the rock, and he and Gertrude faced them, trying to shield them from the press of bodies.

  They ate in silence. Walter hoped for an announcement of some kind, letting them know they could get in the ship and get off this godforsaken ground. When they were done, and there was still no news, he took out his phone and tried to call Sam. But as deep underground as they were, service was hard to come by.

  “Wait here,” he instructed Gertrude. “I mean it. If you move, I might never find you again.”

  “Walter, don’t leave. We’ll go with you,” she said, and the fear in her eyes almost made him stay.

  “I just want to find a phone so I can call Sam. He might know what’s going on. Maybe he’ll be able to give us an idea of when we can board.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Walter. He’s not even on this ship. His airship is already airborne. Frankly, we’re family. In my opinion, he should’ve made sure we were on that one.”

  “Gertrude, we are not having this conversation right now. Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

  Walter walked away, trying to cool his anger, but it was hard with it all around him. He fought for calm as he walked over to an older soldier, a woman whose face indicated she wouldn’t tolerate nonsense.

  “Excuse me,” Walter said. The woman turned to face him, her hands behind her back, stance at resting attention, her expression reluctant.

  “How can I help you?” Her voice was deeper than he expected. Her blonde hair and smaller stature automatically made him think she’d have a very feminine voice.

  “I was wondering if there was a phone I might be able to use?”

  “Once you’re on board, you can make any calls you need to from your stateroom.” Walter knew a canned answer when he heard one. He figured she’d probably given it to at least a hundred people already.

  “I just want to call my brother Sam. He’s a general on board the other ship.”

  He thought he saw her eyebrow twitch a bit. “You mean General Quelch?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “I see. This way,” she said. He followed her through the masses of people and down a small hallway away from the crowd. Glancing back over his shoulder, he searched for Gertrude and the children but didn’t see them. He prayed he’d be able to find them again when he returned.

  Down the corridor and a few turns later, an ancient-looking tan phone hung from the wall. It even had a rotary dial underneath the handset, with a cord that kept the caller close to the phone.

  The woman soldier picked it up before he could tell her the number. She didn’t dial—just started speaking. “Get me General Quelch. Tell him I have his brother here.”

  After a few moments of silence, she handed him the phone. “It’s ringing. I’ll give you some privacy, but I’ll be around the corner if you need anything.”

  “Thank you, Ms.…”

  “Private Brown.”

  “Private.”

  She saluted him, which made him feel awkward, and then she turned and left him alone in the hall. The phone rang several more times, and Walter tapped his fingers impatiently, not sure if Sam would even answer.

  But after the eighth ring, Sam finally picked up. “Quelch here.”

  “Sam.”

  “Walt? Why are you calling from this line? Aren’t you on board yet?”

  “No. There’s a bit of a hold up here. Something wrong with the doors, they said. I wanted to know if you had any insight as to how much longer it would be. There’s about ten thousand people here, Sam, and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that the natives are getting restless.”

  “Shit,” Sam said. He went quiet, as if he were lost in thought.

  “Let me see what I can find out. Stay there. I’ll call you back in two minutes.”

  “Fine,” he said, but Walter wasn’t sure his brother had heard him. The line disconnected so quickly it almost startled him. Sam was always a jump-into-action kind of person. Walter would almost stake his life that Sam would, in fact, call back in two minutes or less under normal circumstances, but these were anything but normal.

  Private Brown peeked her head around the corner. “All set, sir?”

  “No. Sam said he’d call back in two minutes. I’ll just wait here until he does.”

  “Fine. Let me know when you’re ready to return to your family.”

  “Thank you, Private.”

  It felt longer than two minutes as he waited there. Eventually, his brother made good on his promise and the phone rang. Walter felt funny answering it. But after three rings, he couldn’t stand it.

  “Yes?”

  “Jesus, Walt. What took you so long? I thought you’d left and I’d never be able to get a hold of you. Sounds like they’re close to fixing the issue. Listen, Walter, get on that ship. The bots…they’re on the move. They’re coming straight for your location. Infrared satellite imaging shows a cloud of them moving in the direction of the airship bunker. Get on that ship and get out of there.”

  “I’m working on it, man. There’s only so much a peon like me can do.”

  “I understand. I’ll do my best to keep tabs on you. I’m having our ship moved closer to yours, so I can get eyes on it.”

  “Not sure what good that will do realistically, Sam. You can’t help with your eyes.”

  “I know that, smartass. But it would make me feel better just to see you in the air.”

  “Me too, brother.”

  “Be well.”

  “You too.”

  “We’ll speak soon.”

  “I’ll call you from my room,” Walter said.

  “Please do.”

  Walter nodded and hung up the phone, knowing there wasn’t much else to say. The phone call was pretty much a waste since he knew nothing now that he didn’t know before. Except that Sam thought they were close to fixing the problem and that large amounts of bots were heading their way. He could have done without knowing that last part. Walter was even more anxious to get on board now.

  He found Private Brown in the hall, and she led him back to the spot where she’d first met up with him. Automatically, his feet retraced his steps, and he found Gertrude and the kids waiting just where he’d left them. He silently thanked God for that small favor.

  “Sam said they’re working on it and should be close to a solution.”

  “Close? What does that mean?” she demanded. The emotion in the room was getting to her, although Walter wasn’t at all surprised by that. She was quick to anger as it was.

  “It means they’re aware of the probl
em and working on it. That’s the best we can hope for at this point.”

  “Walter, I’m afraid of these people. Some of them are murmuring about storming the door and forcing their way in. There are children around. People will get hurt.”

  “I know, Gertrude.” Walter wasn’t deaf. He’d heard the murmurs too. And he had noted a few extra soldiers posted around. Some had weapons strapped to their backs.

  Walter settled back in with his family. As tensions rose, he scooted closer to his children, hovering protectively over them.

  Finally, an announcement broke the murmurs, which had been increasing in volume.

  “Attention, Orion passengers. Boarding will begin shortly. Please make your way to your assigned gates.” The voice was a woman’s, soothing and smooth.

  “What’s our assigned gate?” Gertrude asked.

  “Thirty-two,” Walter answered, looking around for signage notating where to go. People were already moving away from him, and he was glad for a little breathing room. Finally, he spotted a sign for the gate off in the right corner. “This way,” he said. He put his oldest on his shoulders as Gertrude picked up the toddler.

  Boarding went smoothly, and they made it to their stateroom without incident. It was quite nice inside, although significantly smaller than what they were used to. The children had their own room and bathroom, as did Walter and Gertrude, but there wasn’t much beyond that. They had a living space and small kitchen area, but there was also a cafeteria if they didn’t feel like cooking. In fact, Gertrude hadn’t cooked anything herself in years. They’d probably all starve if they depended on her for a meal.

  “The doors will be closing soon. Please make your way inside as quickly as possible,” the same woman announcer said. Something about it made Walter uneasy.

  “I’m just going to call Sam and let him know we made it to our room. He was concerned.”

  Gertrude only nodded, and he went to the phone, a newer version than what he’d used in the cave. He picked up the handset and dialed Sam’s number.

  The general picked up on the first ring. His voice was strained. “Walt? Are you on board?”

  “Yes. We’re in our room. It’s not bad, Sam. Thank you for—”

  Sam cut him off. “Walter. I can’t talk right now. There’s a problem. The ship has to get in the air now.”

  “What? What do you mean? I think people are still boarding. They just made an announcement—”

  Sam’s voice became distant, as if he’d moved away from the phone. “I don’t care. Tell them to close the doors and get airborne now. Or everyone will die.”

  The statement made Walter’s blood run cold. “What?”

  “The cloud is coming for you, Walt. There isn’t much between you and it. Nothing to slow it down out there in the tundra. They’ve already opened the hanger. The bots will have direct access to the people inside. They’re on to the scent of humans already.”

  “Shit. What can we do?”

  “You can’t do anything. But if I can get the imbecile of a captain who’s on your ship to get Orion’s fat ass in the air, we’d be fine. My ship is near you. I can almost see the Orion on the ship’s cameras. We’re watching the feed on the cameras in the hangar as well. People are fighting to get on board. It’s chaos. Stay in your room. If I can get him to shut the doors, you’ll be off in ten minutes or less. Even then, I’m not sure it’s enough.”

  “Sam. What are you saying?”

  “Hang in there, Walter,” he said, and then the line went dead.

  Walter looked over at Gertrude, who had a terrified expression on her face. He wasn’t sure how much of the conversation she’d heard, but it had obviously been enough.

  “Walter…” she said, her voice shaking as she clung to the youngest, who remained silent.

  The oldest had gone to the window, peering out. “Daddy, come see.”

  Their room was several floors up from the center of the ship. Turned out, the ship was huge, much larger than the outer building indicated. He had no idea how they were going to launch it, but from what Sam had said, they’d opened the ground to get it out.

  There wasn’t much to see out of the window. Rock mostly. But then his son pointed off to the right…way to the right. And down a long way. Walter could make out people rushing to the ship. A lot of people.

  “There has to be at least five thousand people down there still. Why aren’t they on the ship? What happened?” he muttered to himself.

  They’d gone to their gate easily and gotten on without a problem. What had happened to delay those folks left?

  “Will they be able to get on, Daddy?” his son asked.

  “I don’t really know, Brad.” Walter watched, hoping he wouldn’t see the people below die.

  At the thought, he steered his son away from the window. “Why don’t you go see your new room and pick a bed?” At that suggestion, his son happily trotted away.

  “Ladies and gentleman, the doors are now closed for boarding. We will be launching momentarily. Please take a seat for your own safety,” the piped-in voice of the woman said.

  “There are still people outside,” Walter cried, and Gertrude didn’t respond. Just bounced the child in her arms.

  Walter wished they’d had more time. More help. More…something. It wasn’t right. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He didn’t spend four million to watch five thousand people die.

  Then, he heard something. Faint at first. He wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe the engine whining? Or landing gear retracting? But it grew louder as the cries of over five thousand people climbed the cave walls.

  “What’s happening?”

  “I don’t know,” Walter said, unable to tear his eyes away from the people below. He couldn’t make out what was going on down there. As the ship’s engines helped them slowly climb, it got more difficult to make out the small figures below. Until it seemed like they weren’t even there anymore. That couldn’t be right, could it? Maybe they were just too high to see them. Walter hoped it were true, but he knew he was grasping at straws.

  Before long, they cleared the hanger and were eye level with the ground. They continued to climb, and Walter leaned against the window, feeling a sense of relief, along with a heavy heart for the people they’d left behind.

  “Maybe they can get on another ship? One overseas?” he offered, but Gertrude didn’t answer.

  He moved to the couch and sat down, thinking about their future and what their life would be like. He wondered if they’d ever be able to go home, or if anything would be left of their beautiful place in New York. But before he could think about rebuilding, alarms started going off.

  “Attention, all people on board. Please make your way to the evacuation vessels. Critical failure has occurred. Follow the red lights to your nearest vessel. Thank you.” The recording repeated, and then repeated again. Over and over it sounded, and Walter and Gertrude just stared at each other, knowing they wouldn’t make it to a vessel.

  The ship shuddered, a loud bang sounded, and it started to list to the left, taking Gertrude and the child in her arms with it. She fell hard to the ground, and Walter was at her side. Brad ran out of his new room, and Walter took him in his arms.

  “What’s going on?” the boy asked with a shaking voice.

  “I don’t know. But we’re here. We’re all together,” Walter said, as if that was supposed to comfort the boy in his last moments of life.

  General Quelch went to the window with his binoculars. He spotted the ship when it cleared the hangar. But he couldn’t see it very well, so he went to the monitors.

  “Zoom in,” he commanded. They did, and he could see it rising higher and higher off the ground.

  “Come on, baby,” he whispered to himself.

  But before long, the ship listed to one side, and he knew it was over. A cloud was gathering near the bottom of the ship. It could’ve been debris from the takeoff, or exhaust from the engines, but Quelch knew it wasn’t either of those thin
gs. It was the damned bots.

  “Are we clear of them?”

  “Yes, sir. Hovering at ten thousand feet. The bots can’t reach us here.”

  “Climb to fifteen thousand.”

  “Aye, sir,” the pilot answered.

  Quelch never looked at the pilot. Instead, he kept his eyes on the wayward ship as it fell to the ground, crashing spectacularly. The fireball that erupted startled even him, and he took a step back from the screen. Black smoke rose as he checked the two hangar cameras they had. They were both down.

  “When did we lose those?” he asked.

  “Shortly after the ship shut the doors,” a woman who was working the cameras answered.

  Quelch said nothing, going back to the working monitors on their own ship. “Can we get a better look?” he asked, wanting to see through the smoke.

  “No, sir. This is the best we can do.”

  It seemed like they hovered there for hours, waiting for the smoke to clear. Hoping beyond hope someone had survived. But once the smoke dissipated, the ship was already being consumed. Over a third of it had been reduced to nothing, with more of it disappearing as Quelch and his crew watched in horror. Quelch found himself hoping no one had survived the crash.

  Two

  Approximate year, 2346

  Vega Fowell had seen the video. They watched short clips of it every year during the remembrance ceremony. But she’d been forced to watch the entire video during her training to become a pilot on the airship Perseus. The clips were tame in comparison. It left her feeling sick, seeing the huge ship lumbering skyward, and then falling in slow motion off to one side. And seeing part of it disappearing, reduced to the ash they originally thought was from the smoke, but had later determined was waste from the bots, had terrified her. The entire world was covered in the dust of destruction.

  After seeing the video, Vega had wondered if becoming a pilot on the ship was the right choice for her. She’d always wanted to fly the big airship, ever since she was little. Her teacher had tried to discourage her, point her toward farming or teaching instead. And while she did love the animals, she loved the control that flying brought her more.