A Billion Days of Earth

by Piserchia, Doris

  Anything? Six was delirious.

  Cut off One’s nose with his own sword. Damn thing was always too long.

  See how it runs red? See? It ain’t blue.

  The natives are restless, sir. That is, the bugs in the cupboards, the offal in the cowsheds, the people in the streets; somebody has been telling them the world is coming to an end.

  Call out the armies. If anybody complains, shoot ’em.

  Best nightmare Six ever had.

  Sir, would you believe it, but something happened that never happened before in all history? There are no armies to call out. Practically every soldier has deserted. There’s no one to protect us.

  What about the offal? What are they doing?

  Tearing things up, sir.

  For God’s sake, someone wake me up.

  For God’s sake, you are awake, sir.

  The world panted. Machines that ran by themselves were frightening. The mechanics were unable to tolerate being alone with things that had no minds. Fires began in factories, granaries and closets. Wherever a mind was absent, chaos seemed to be a natural consequence.

  The world unveiled a face of evil. Shadows became more significant than sunlight, skulking more rewarding than openness. Success meant lying in wait for someone who had food and clothing. People who had enjoyed fiddling with the little garden in their back yard thanked their lucky stars. They had a problem with thieves who came down the streets in trickles. Later, the trickles would become hordes.

  Rik went hunting for Sheen, recklessly at first and then with real dedication. When a certain fact dawned on him, he shook his head in disbelief and searched harder. It wasn’t possible that he couldn’t find Sheen.

  He couldn’t find him. There were thousands of silver creatures but he didn’t find one. No shiny tares hopped over the landscape, no zizzy with a silver coat flew anywhere, no human zombies were to be seen in the oases or the streets of Osfar. Sheen was hiding from him.

  He knew rage, pure red-eyed rage that sent him driving through the city and the desert at a frantic pace that exhausted him. He kept at it for three days until he finally stopped. The thousand shapes of Sheen were as earthbound as he, but the creature was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t going to be granted the privilege of punching a silver face. He wasn’t going to have the opportunity to fight for Aril. Sheen didn’t want to argue with him. He would do what he pleased with Aril and no one would interfere. He would use Aril to bring Rik to his knees, and they would both be taken together.

  “No!” Rik roared. He stopped driving in circles and went home.

  “Are you so far gone you can’t recognize a noose when you stick your head in it?” He said this to Aril as she was going out the door the next day. When she didn’t answer, didn’t look at him, he followed her outside. “Is your self-destruct timer invincible?” he yelled at her back.

  He was waiting for her when she returned hours later. “Did you have a good time?” he said. “Did the two of you discuss how funny it will be when I give up? Where is the son of a bitch? I want to see him. I want to knock the crap out of him.”

  Next time, he changed his tactics. “Honey, don’t you care anything for me? I’m your husband and I’m lonely when you’re gone. What will people think when you go to meet him every time you take the notion? He’s a seducer, you know that, don’t you? Underneath all that silver stuff, he’s a man.”

  He could have stood naked on his head in the middle of the street and she wouldn’t have heard him. Aware of all the things that disgusted her, he did them all. He committed every irritating crime he could think of—left his clothes strewn about, made sure the door was wide open when he went to the bathroom, neglected to shut the refrigerator, deposited his shoes in the hallways. She noticed nothing; she was blind.

  He didn’t feed Pug for two days, in hopes that the zizzy’s moans would attract her attention. Finally, he fed the creature to keep it from starving. He went looking for Sheen but didn’t find him. He began to follow Aril. It was impossible that she knew he was behind her, but she always did the same thing—went a few paces and sat down on a curb, stump or rock and there she stayed until he went away. If he didn’t leave, she went back home and waited until he fell asleep. It didn’t matter what time it was. When he went to sleep, she slipped away to meet Sheen.

  One day he sat reading a newspaper in his favorite chair beside the front window.

  “Let’s go to Sheen, let’s all go to Sheen; he’ll take your troubled soul, he’ll empty out your bean.”

  The sounds of the song were made by a gang of youths who had built a bonfire in a yard down the street. They danced around the fire and sang. A young boy came walking past them. He had his paws in his pockets and he didn’t glance at the fire or the chanting youths.

  Rik heard a step on the porch, heard the pail of food being picked up. A moment later, the front door opened.

  “I’m sorry, I thought the house was empty.” The boy walked out. A long minute went by and then he came back in.

  “You’re about to give up, aren’t you?”

  “What makes you think that?” said Rik.

  “The way you sit in the chair; the way you stare without seeing anything; the way you’re thinking.”

  “Can you read my mind.”

  “No.”

  “Are you worried about me?”

  “I like this house,” said the boy. “When you’re gone, I’ll make use of it.”

  “Have we met before?”

  They had, briefly; a long time ago. The boy had picked up a wood carving Rik had thrown away, and Rik followed him and watched him hide the carving in a cleft in a wall.

  The boy’s name was Geo and he wasn’t like other boys. Mostly, he was like a little old man who had settled into a rigid pattern of behavior and wouldn’t be budged. Geo reasoned like a calculator and cared more for the data fed into his brain than for anything else.

  “You know a lot of things,” he said to Rik. He had moved into a back room in the house. Rik hadn’t invited him, nor had he told him to leave.

  “Not because I didn’t work to learn them. Come on with me and I’ll show you my cache.”

  Later, Geo said, “You didn’t want this place to be forgotten.”

  “You mean after I go to Sheen?”

  “I made a mistake before. You’re not going to Sheen. But you’re no longer interested in this room. Thank you for bringing me here. I’ve never been happier.”

  “Then why don’t you act happy?”

  “I never act anything. Why did you show me this place? You care nothing for me.”

  “Suppose there was a man who decided Sheen had no conscience, and who also decided to surrender in order to become Sheen’s conscience? You know—go to Sheen and then teach him the ABC’s of ethics?”

  “I’d say the man was a lunatic who ought to be locked up.”

  “A good idea,” said Rik. “His name is Jak. He’ll be locked up in here and you’ll look after him, in exchange for the use of all the equipment here.”

  “All of it?”

  “See that you don’t break anything.”

  A week later, Rik sat in a small park and talked to the trees. “I know you’re somewhere around,” he said in a loud voice. “You don’t want me to see you. You’re not convinced that I won’t run away and hide for good.”

  As far as he could tell, no one heard him but the trees, benches and tables. But Sheen had to be somewhere. Sheen had to hear him.

  “You’re making a mistake,” he said. “I came here to tell you you’re wasting your time. It won’t work. Killing her won’t change me. No matter how long you take to do it, or how much of a kick you get out of it, or how much you make me suffer, you won’t get what you want. You should realize that it stops right there. I’m here to tell you where the dead end is. It’s at the end of her road. I’d do anything to keep her, but I want her here, now, with me and with no strings attached. I don’t want her any other way. If you take her, she’s your
s. I’ll have no more interest in her. To me, she’ll be dead.”

  He stopped talking long enough to prop a foot on a bench and look up through the trees.

  “You should believe me. If you don’t and you go ahead with what you’re planning, you’ll have to endure the consequences. What you’ll be doing is committing an act of cruelty for the sake of cruelty; nothing more. Will it hurt me to see you take her while I have to sit still and watch? Yes. But I won’t suffer as much as she will. You think she’s so far gone that she doesn’t know what she has become. She does know; she knows everything. For years she’s tried to deny it, and I know there hasn’t been a day when she succeeded. She’s worthy enough for your purposes by herself, as she is. You don’t have to draw it out for my benefit. At least give her the dignity you’ve given your other victims. Go after her because she’s worth killing. Anything else is beneath you.”

  He stood up straight, sighed, felt his temples throb. “No one dictates to you, but neither do you dictate to me. I don’t need you, Sheen. You have nothing to offer me. You don’t have what I want. Give up. Give me up. You can’t have me.”

  A few days later, he picked up some signals on his radio. It had been weeks since a message came through. He fiddled with the knobs and got static, so much that he was nearly deafened. A few moments passed and then a young woman’s voice came from the box.

  “This is Chin calling. Can anyone hear me? Come in, please. Is there anyone at all? Please, please, someone answer.”

  “Hello,” said Rik.

  “Oh, dear God,” gasped the voice.

  “This is Osfar. How many are left over there?”

  “I think I’m the last. They’re all gone, every one of them. There’s no one left but me.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Who?” said the voice eagerly, and as understanding came, “Oh, he’s right here beside me. He showed me how to work the radio.”

  “Sounds like he’s pretty much like ours over here.”

  Another voice came on the radio, in a bellow. “Rik, baby, whatever made you think I could be other than what I am? I mean, think, sweetheart, think! I’m irrevocable!”

  “I keep forgetting what a fractured particle you are,” Rik said wearily.

  “The young lady seems to prefer your voice to mine, though I can’t imagine why. You may have her again, but she isn’t worth the effort. I’ve never seen such a narrow-minded stiff neck in all my life.”

  At once the girl was back on the air and demanding, “How many are left over there?”

  “A few. I don’t know how many. It doesn’t matter.”

  “It would if you were in my shoes.”

  He knew what she wanted. He talked. “It’s very bad here. Our population was so much greater than yours, and it takes time for him to contact everyone, so that’s why some of us are still left. The denser parts of Osfar have been demolished by fire and explosions. The food is disappearing and I suspect Sheen is responsible. He never misses a trick. It’s hard for a hungry person to think straight. Scouting parties have been trying to find where he hid it, but they’ve had no luck. Our children are being destroyed, one by one. Those who still have food are hunted by animals, the rest are starving. As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen a child for over a week. I don’t know if they’re all dead or hiding. There aren’t enough of us to do anything about it. Besides, Sheen set up a barricade about twenty miles beyond the city limits. Nobody can get past it. Thousands of his victims are standing out there barring all passage, and they won’t speak a word to anybody.”

  He rubbed his jaw and yawned. “When I get time I’m going to try and figure out why that barricade is out there, but right now I’m too tired. Those of us who are sticking it out don’t get much sleep. Osfar is dead and we’re just a few stubborn moles skulking in the garbage. Your call is the first I’ve received in weeks. I don’t know what is going on elsewhere but it’s bound to be the same as here. A few are dug in while the rest are giving up. That’s all I can tell you and I know it’s nothing new. You’ve seen every bit of it at your end.”

  He gave another big yawn. It made him feel worse, more lax, more tense in his stomach. “So long,” he said.

  “Wait! Please wait!”

  “Why?”

  “Will you call me once in a while, maybe once a week? Or whenever you can? Or let me call you?”

  “No.”

  He heard her shocked gasp. “What?”

  “I won’t call you and you can’t call me.”

  “But why?”

  “Don’t go getting stupid at this stage of the game.”

  There was an extended silence. “I don’t understand!”

  “I’ll spell it out for you. The only thing he has left to use as a weapon against you is your loneliness. Sure, I could call you once a week or every day, but he’ll not let us get away with it for long. He’ll break the radio or set up a barricade around your house so you can’t get out. Or he’ll break the radio at this end. By the time he does that, you’ll have become dependent on those little talks with me. Your tongue will be hanging out to hear my voice. You’ll be crazy for it. You’ll do anything.”

  “How dumb can I get?” she said, flatly.

  “Right.”

  “Then this is it. I’m strictly on my own. Okay, I get the picture. I can stand it.”

  “Don’t cut me off yet. One more thing. He’ll have to use an alternate plan now. I suspect he’s going to become so pleasant you’ll love his head off. You’ll want to worship him because he’s so wonderful. He’ll dog your footsteps, never let you out of his sight. He’ll do everything for you but take you to bed. When he gets you right where he wants you, he’s going to disappear. You’ll hunt for him with your brain scrambling like a cracked egg. You’ll bawl your head off and ruin your shoes trying to find him. Finally you’ll get down on your knees and scream. You’ll tell him to come and get you because you can’t stand being without him. And he’ll come. He’ll be there so fast you won’t have time to think or make sense out of anything. But you won’t care. You’ll be too busy begging him to take you.”

  She said just four words. “The hell I will.”

  “Right. So long.”

  “ ’Bye, and thanks.”

  “Doggone it, Rik, that isn’t fair!” cried Sheen. “I had it planned right down to her last moan!”

  “Tough. Listen, about Aril—”

  Sheen quickly went off the air. Rik smashed the radio.

  Mr. Kulp of Ujan Street was no better off than anyone. He had a personal problem. He owned practically nothing now. His money was all gone because the banks had crashed. How would he and his pets survive? He owned a lot of them. There were 20 tares, several zizzys, snakes of all kinds and a couple of birds. The fact that such animals didn’t thrive in captivity was unimportant to him. What was important was that they had to be taken care of.

  He wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t know disaster when it fell on him. As the world slipped farther toward the Stone Age, about which Mr. Kulp knew nothing, he came to a reluctant decision. He couldn’t feed himself and his pets. Someone was going to have to go hungry. He went hungry. He gave all his food to his caged pets.

  After starving for three weeks, he sorrowfully opened all the cages and watched his pets escape. Sorrowfully, he noted that none of them chose to stay and suffer with him. Sorrowfully, he contemplated the state of all the Lord’s creations who were being held captive by men.

  Scarcely able to walk, he headed for the zoo. Nobody paid him any attention. He obviously had no food and he was too weak to use as a pony by someone who needed a ride. No one asked him where he was going.

  There was nobody at the zoo but the animals, and Mr. Kulp’s progress through the area went unchallenged. The last caretaker to desert had taken every available scrap of meat from storage and put it in the cages. There had been a great deal of meat, so only the animals in the nursery were dead. The rest were tearing themselves to pieces as they tried to g
et free.

  His mind a blank, and with a singing sensation in his viscera, Mr. Kulp found the keys in a building and methodically began to unlock every door in the place. He didn’t mind that he was knocked about by scrambling bodies, didn’t mind when he got trampled underfoot. He simply stood up again and opened some more cages.

  He hadn’t known about maximum security, but he didn’t mind its existence because it gave him more work to do. He didn’t mind that his scalp was removed by a hurtling shape or that his vision was impaired by his own blood. He didn’t mind when his clothes somehow got torn off and he was left to walk naked in darkness.

  There was only one part he minded. The last cage he unlocked let loose a thing that had no inclination to go off hunting for food when there was some right there under its nose. Mr. Kulp minded what happened to him, because no matter how deeply into dementia a mind plunged, it still went through the motions. It knew pain when it saw it. Damn the mind. Why did it exist? What had it ever done for anybody except plumb the depths of agony and broadcast it everywhere?

  Mrs. Ploke came running into the street. Her blind eyes wide, she whipped her head from side to side as if the two empty holes in it could penetrate the ebony of her world.

  “Help! Won’t someone help me?”

  She grabbed up her skirts and ran toward the curb. A man darted from behind a building, crouched low and extended a broom across her path. The woman tripped over it and crashed to the ground.

  “They took Brog away!” she cried. “They’re killing him!” Climbing to her feet, she gathered up her skirts and stumbled headlong into a wrecked automobile. The man who had tripped her started forward. His attention swerved to a group of women who ran out of a store. He abandoned Mrs. Ploke and headed after them.

  Mrs. Ploke grasped the bumper of the car and staggered erect. Her voice rang out in the stillness. “Show me where he is! Please, someone take me to Brog. They’re crucifying him.”