End of the Road

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End of the Road Page 11

by Jacques Antoine


  Riley smiled, pretty sure Yuri was having fun with him again, but not quite confident enough to laugh. That, probably, was the real joke.

  “I don’t know,” he said, “but there are many nice things to see. My parents took me to Yellowstone Park once. We saw Old Faithful.”

  “There are many water spouts,” said Yuri seriously, “but in the world only one very big ceramic snowman who is fishing, in California....”

  Riley shrugged inside his suit. “Yuri,” he said, “Sometimes I don’t know if you’re just fooling with me or not. I’ll figure you out eventually. I have four months, I guess.”

  “Everything I say is true,” said Yuri, happily. Mouths don’t make words foolish; words are made foolish by the ears.”

  Yuri had a point, though Riley didn’t think a tour of the States was a good idea at the moment. Tensions had been high between their countries ever since Insula Nova, as the island had been dubbed, had risen from the Pacific near the Bering Strait. But he supposed he shouldn’t condemn too quickly. If those Russian fishermen hadn’t gotten drunk and announced they were going to sail out and plant their own version of the red, white, and blue, it might have been years before he got into space.

  One overzealous Alaskan coast guard captain had taken it upon himself to stop them. “For liberty,” the man had said. Somehow, shots had been fired; one Russian sailor was dead — drowned by most accounts, having fallen overboard — and Riley had been moved up in the schedule to coincide with the Russians as a minor gesture of goodwill. A French anthropologist had been slotted to be where he was right now, studying the effects of weightlessness on the lattices of bone formation.

  And all because of a steaming hunk of barren rock no larger than a football field.

  He hoped his presence would help, but didn’t harbor any illusion that the International Space Agency had any real international pull. Meanwhile, it had worked out great for him. He would get results on his research years ahead of schedule.

  In the darkness of the Earth’s shadow, a light flickering on Yuri’s helmet caught Riley’s eye. A reflection. He looked down to where he knew the Earth floated somewhere below and saw a tiny red blossom moving against the black, growing steadily larger and slipping slowly away as the planet rotated in the opposite direction. A second red flower soon unfolded near it, and another. In an instant, red blossoms of flame were flaring across a wide swath of the darkness like sunlight prickling on the surface of a lake.

  “Yuri,” he said, without thinking, needing someone else to see it. “Yuri, look.”

  Riley knew that Yuri had turned when he heard a string of Russian swears. In there somewhere he heard mamochka.

  So it was true, not just phosphenes in his eyes, not a strange borealis. He knew what horror he was seeing but didn’t want to speak the word aloud and make it real.

  “Missiles,” said Yuri. “Nuclear….”

  As if Yuri had called them into existence, the next instant a second wave of red blossoms sparked below, more than he could count; the darkness bloomed with them as if a veil had been whisked away. These were quickly swept away in the current of the Earth’s motion the same as the first, following the curve of night until, after a few minutes, only the blackness remained, unmarred; the Earth had vanished and they were alone in the infinity of the ether again, only the shush of their breathing to comfort them.

  “Nicolas,” said Yuri, “Nicolas, confirm. Are you seeing this?”

  “No,” said Nicolas, “No—”

  “Nicolas, ra—“

  “No contact with mission control,” interrupted Nicolas in a ghostly voice. “I have tried four times.”

  All three coms were left open and their breathing became as loud as the wind.

  None of them had to speak, thinking of people they knew and the lives they had led. Even if those people were alive, they might not see them again. Mission Control was their umbilical to Earth, and if Mission Control were gone, they no longer had a ride home.

  Riley began, “How do we …” but he never finished the thought, and knew it wasn’t necessary.

  Yuri sounded resolute, “Doesn’t matter,” he said, as if each word were an effort. “We have work to do.”

  Nicolas was desperate. He had little control over the tremolo in his voice. “Yuri—”

  “We finish! It will take twenty minutes to complete the last panel. We have one hundred twenty minutes remaining on our scrubbers….”

  And it takes thirty minutes for a missile to fly from the U.S. to Russia and vice versa, thought Riley. About thirty-seven minutes ‘til sunrise again. And if that was Russia firing east … about sixty-six minutes until we’re over the east coast of the States.

  The war would be ended by the time the Earth rose again — Hell, it’s over now — the station would probably be above Europe or the Atlantic. They would have to wait to inspect … they would have to wait and see.

  Riley had no wife, no girlfriend, few friends. His parents had died within a few months of each other only a few years before, and since then he’d regretted that he hadn’t got into space earlier, while they were still alive. All those years he’d trained to be selected for a mission … he should have worked harder.

  “We finish the panel,” he agreed. “That’s our job.” He’d let go of the umbilical for his toolkit and tugged it to bring it back to him, then he and Yuri helped each other move back to the open final panel, and tried to concentrate on the task at hand.

  On the com, Nicolas was making no effort to stifle his sobs.

  ~*~

  Let there be light.

  Even under the threat of such … even under such threat, Earthrise was beautiful. Photos couldn’t capture the orange of the deserts, the red and yellow and green of the forests, or the kaleidoscope of scars that man had left on the planet, not all at once. The iridescent mines, the brown drained lakes, even those were stunning when seen from above.

  Sunlight splashed across Europe and Yuri swore into the com, getting an idea of how long they would still have to wait. Clouds, quite ordinary ones, were covering the coast of Spain and Portugal and the bulk of the Atlantic. Riley wished he could sweep them away and peer beneath.

  The further west they traveled, the darker the clouds became, until they were impenetrable. Five minutes later, when the coast of North America should have been swinging into view, they could see nothing of it, but that in itself was telltale; they knew what that meant.

  Dust was blackening the sky beneath them. Whole forests were burning, sending tons of ash into the air. The oil sands of Alberta and half of Lone Star Texas would be ablaze with furious geysers of flame, no one left alive nearby to concern themselves with pollution, smog, the price of gas. Already the jet stream was carrying the immense ash cloud towards the United Kingdom and northern France.

  In silence, they hoped for a break in the cloud cover, until Riley knew they had to be nearing the Pacific. For a moment they could see the blue of the water and the spatter of the Hawaii islands, but soon the sky darkened there too, fingers of dust and ash reaching out over the water from the north, looming over China, already grasping for Japan.

  Both sides had won. Or lost. It was all the same. Both sides got what they wanted. A thumbed nose to their counterparts.

  At least Korea looked okay, as did Thailand, Singapore. It wasn’t like the worst days of the cold war, when annihilation had been assured. In this very small way they had matured. Bomb yields had been dialed back, thousands of missiles had been decommissioned. Where once seventy thousand nuclear warheads had been the gun pointing indiscriminately at the rest of the world, only a few thousand were now … only a few thousand had been … in active service.

  Destruction was no longer assured for all, but reserved primarily for themselves.

  The Middle East seemed unscathed, Africa was orange and idyllic under a cloudless sky. People would survive. The Earth would turn. Life would go on. But it would go on without their peoples.

  The com
had been quiet for twenty minutes while they observed every mound and crevice over the face of the land. Nicolas’ voice had vanished. Soon the Earth would slide back into shadow. Nick checked the time. They had little less than an hour on their carbon dioxide scrubbers. They would soon have to head back inside.

  “Riley,” said Yuri, softly. Then he said it again when Riley couldn’t make words to answer. “Riley? This is your first mission, nyet?”

  Riley nodded, and forced himself to speak. “Yeah,” he said. “My first.” His words broke to pieces.

  “Come with me,” said Yuri, pulling himself back towards the airlock by his umbilical.

  Riley hesitated. Technically, Yuri was now his enemy.

  “Come,” said Yuri, turning back. “I have something to show you.”

  Riley followed, expecting they would cycle the airlock and go inside, but Yuri pushed past the airlock and away from the station towards the emptiness of space. Reluctantly, Riley did the same, until he and Yuri were side by side at the end of their tethers. Riley took one last look at the Earth, now behind them, diminishing.

  “I do this every time I come out here,” said Yuri. “Because each time I come … I do not know if it will be my last … and it is beautiful, you will see. I had planned on showing you because it was your first time. I don’t see why I should not. Now watch,” he said, indicating toward the stars.

  The last of the light lining the Earth narrowed to a point, and again in its shadow they became nothing, facing the immensity of the galaxy.

  “Look at it,” said Yuri. “Take it in you.”

  At first Riley wasn’t sure what he meant, but soon he felt the great silence of the universe washing over him, winds of it around his face and his fingers. Briefly he wondered if his eyes were closed, but then the stars stood out brightly against the black, defiant in the silence, his breath sympathizing with their light.

  “Relax,” said Yuri sleepily.

  And Riley relaxed in his muscles, tense and tired, and from the shimmering lament in his soul, facing the void of creation. A tumult from afar still looks like peace. He looked back to where the Earth would be and put his arm on Yuri’s shoulder. Yuri’s eyes were closed, content in the cradle. Riley then braced, and disconnected Yuri’s umbilical.

  Back to Top

  ~*~

  L.S. Burton lives in St. John's, Newfoundland, where he works as a writer and freelance editor. Though his stories are diverse, they all revel in the music and harmony of words, and celebrate imagination. In 2011, Burton was awarded the Percy Janes Award for Best Unpublished First Novel in the Newfoundland and Labrador Arts and Letters Competition for his novel Raw Flesh in the Rising.

  To learn more about L.S. Burton, please visit his home page.

  Chapter 14

  Sherdan’s Road

  By Jess Mountifield

  A smile crept across Sherdan's face, adding some life to the haggard look that had plagued it for the last few months. Elizabeth waved at him from outside and then went back to playing tag with Alice.

  Her resilience surprised him. Less than a day after being back in her normal home and she was rushing around and playing as if she hadn't spent over eight weeks shut up with him and his small security team in their bunker.

  He rubbed his hands over his eyes. The sunlight made them hurt.

  After watching the two girls play a little longer he went back to his work. Ever since they'd got out he'd been busy with security concerns. Now that he was alone he had time to plan for the future again.

  He went over to his desk and re-positioned his chair so he could glance through the window to the kids whenever he needed to. The paper sitting there had a small list on it of the things he needed to get to restock the supplies in the underground bunker. So far it was only the obvious things like water and canned food but the list would grow much longer.

  ***

  “Tag, you're it!”

  Alice squealed and switched direction to chase after Elizabeth as she ran off. They raced around the apple tree a couple of times before Elizabeth darted off towards the road, past the rusting, burnt out car.

  When both of them grew too puffed out and tired to continue they fell into a heap of giggles on the picnic blanket Alice’s father had laid out for them earlier. In the corner of the blanket sat their two patchwork dolls, with plastic teacups, a teapot, and little plates with plastic sandwiches.

  The dolls had seen better days; one’s button eyes were missing, replaced with stitched crosses and Elizabeth had spilt jam on hers a few days ago. The stain could still be seen on its floral dress. Neither girl seemed to mind.

  “We have to ration the tea,” Elizabeth said as she wrinkled up her button nose. “Daddy says there has to be enough to last.”

  “Can they have one small cup now? We don’t want them to get thirsty.”

  Elizabeth nodded and picked up the teapot. She held it over each cup and paused for a few seconds. When each cup was full they lifted them to their dolls mouths and poured. They then repeated the action for themselves.

  As soon as everyone had drunk they got up again and went over to the rubble of what once was the garden wall. Elizabeth directed them both as they piled the chunks of sandstone up into new shapes.

  They alternated between this task and feeding their dolls their rations of imaginary tea for several minutes. Just as they were putting the final stone in place in their new structure Elizabeth stopped and stared down the cracked street towards the barricade at the end.

  “Someone’s coming,” she said as she grabbed Alice’s hand. She concentrated all her effort on her ability, just as her father had taught her and the two girls disappeared.

  “Who is it?” Alice whispered a moment later

  “I don’t know. They’re using an ability though. Let’s go see.”

  “What if we get told off?”

  “It’s okay, no one will see us. It will be an adventure.”

  “Like your mummy’s on?”

  “Just like mummy’s on.”

  Elizabeth led her friend towards the person she sensed, right up until they got to the giant barriers at the end of the road.

  “They’re not far on the other side,” Elizabeth said as quietly as she could. They snuck around the barrier, going slower now and still holding hands. Picking carefully through the debris they went towards the tumbled down house building. Daddy said it was an old University where he worked before people got abilities and the war started. He’d told her no one was meant to be in it anymore and that it wasn’t safe. Whoever was inside would need warning.

  Alice tugged on her hand as she went to push through the front door, but it didn’t stop her going through and Alice knew better than to let go of her and lose the safety of Elizabeth’s ability.

  The inside of the building was gloomy and the smell made Elizabeth wrinkle her nose. She led them off towards the left, unsure exactly where the other people were in the maze of corridors and rooms.

  When they reached a doorway they peered inside. The room was even darker than the corridor and some part of it had collapsed, strewing rubble and bits of metal all over the floor. They moved on without exploring further.

  They passed by a few more doorways and stopped to peak into each one, but they were all similar, empty and dark or buried under the debris from the collapsed floors above. Right at the end of the corridor one of the green wooden doors still hung on its hinges, ajar and obscuring the inside of the room.

  As Elizabeth went to push the door Alice tugged on her hand again.

  “Are they in there?” Alice whispered.

  “No, they’re not that close. We’re exploring.”

  “Is this what your mummy does?”

  “Don’t know. Daddy just said she’d gone off on an adventure and we’d all get to see her soon. Maybe she’ll be back by the time we’ve finished.” Elizabeth rubbed her eyes with her sleeve. Adventuring was fun, but she missed her mum lots. She knew daddy did too.

  The w
ooden door scraped the floor as Elizabeth tugged on it, so she only opened it far enough for the two of them to squeeze inside. Very little light made its way into the room from the corridor outside but they could see the outline of a desk and some bulky objects behind that.

  Once inside and away from any possible prying eyes Elizabeth let them go back to being visible and gave her ability a rest. Mummy had warned her that it would only last so long.

  They shuffled up to the desk and peered over the edge to see if anything had been left on top. Alice reached up and touched the side of a plastic telephone, activating one of her abilities as she did. Her finger cleared away the layer of dust and dirt and glowed to light a small area around it.

  If Alice activated her ability fully it would be enough to light the whole room but she had restrained it and only made enough light to see that the plastic casing on the telephone had once been a deep blue.

  Elizabeth walked over to the other side of the desk to see what else there was and Alice followed, bringing her little light with her. A big metal cupboard stood across almost the entire back wall with three sliding doors.

  She reached out a hand and pushed the nearest door over towards the middle. It squealed in protest, having rusted and warped since it was last used.

  When the door was almost opened the contents came rushing forward, falling on both of them. They screamed and tried to rush back towards the desk, but got tangled and fell backwards. Elizabeth landed on her bottom and the pain sent the air in her lungs out, rushing through her gritted teeth with a whistle.

  Alice’s light had gone out in the commotion but she reactivated it again and both girls burst into giggles. A rubber skeleton of an adult lay jumbled in a heap over their feet. Elizabeth stood up and lifted the skull to stretch it out.

  Before Alice could join her she dropped it again.

 

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