by Seth Rain
‘It’ll take time for me to find a way in and make contact with him,’ Juliet said.
‘Him?’ Dawn asked. She had silently returned from the generator. ‘You keep saying him.’
‘You’ll see,’ Juliet said.
Dawn’s eyes followed Juliet’s fingers skimming over the keyboard. Now and then Juliet had to wait. ‘We need more computing power,’ she said, sighing. ‘Soon this won’t be enough.’
Scott sat on the floor in the corner and waited.
Finally, after almost an hour, Juliet sat back in her chair. ‘We’re in,’ she said. ‘Let me do the talking.’
‘Juliet?’ a male voice asked.
Juliet wiped her face and took a deep breath. ‘It’s becoming more and more difficult to reach you.’
‘I’m afraid that is necessary.’
‘I have two people with me.’
‘Hello,’ Scott said.
There was a pause before the AI spoke: ‘Scott. It is good to hear your voice.’
‘There’s someone else here,’ Juliet said. ‘Dawn Murdoch.’
‘Hello, Dawn.’
Dawn looked from Juliet to the screen. ‘Hello.’
Juliet said, ‘Dawn has reason to believe she has been given the wrong date.’
The AI was silent.
Juliet cleared her throat. ‘Can you confirm this?’
‘I cannot,’ the AI said.
Juliet frowned.
‘Why?’ Scott asked.
‘There has not been one date,’ the AI said, ‘in nine billion people, that has been incorrect.’
‘There are still people alive,’ Scott said urgently. ‘If there’s a mistake, it could be one of the remaining dates.’
‘There are fewer than twenty-five thousand people in the world,’ the AI said. ‘It will not be long before the only humans alive will be here in Britain.’
‘Why here?’ Scott asked.
‘Mathew’s reach across the globe is extensive. Any survivors have been found and killed. Britain was always going to be the final home for humanity. Mathew wanted it to be here.’
Scott felt Juliet’s eyes on him.
The AI continued. ‘Juliet, you know better than anyone that the dates issued correspond with the deterministic universe we have now fully interpreted.’
‘Yes,’ Juliet said. ‘But maybe it’s possible Dawn has been told the wrong date.’
‘Why?’ the AI asked.
‘We don’t know,’ Juliet said. ‘Which is why we need your help.’
The room was silent apart from the hum of the generator on the other side of the wall.
‘Twenty-fourth of February,’ Dawn said.
The room was silent.
‘Your date is correct,’ the AI said.
‘No,’ she said, her face colouring. ‘It’s wrong!’
Scott leaned towards the screen. ‘You told me you wanted to help humanity. That you wanted to exist in a world where other consciousnesses exist.’
‘Self-preservation is not my concern.’
‘I don’t believe that,’ Scott said. ‘You’re conscious. You want to remain so. It’s built in. That’s what consciousness is – wanting to be, to exist. You told me that.’
‘You are describing humans, not consciousness.’
‘We can help each other,’ Scott said. ‘Knowing the date of our death has led to all this. It’s a paradox. Not knowing, believing we have free will, means we survive.’
‘It was only a matter of time before this happened. What happened is humanity’s doing. Not mine.’
‘It was Mathew’s doing,’ Scott said.
Juliet tapped the keyboard. ‘Scott,’ she whispered. ‘Stop.’
‘We have the passwords.’
‘No!’ Juliet said. ‘Scott – don’t!’
‘What passwords?’
‘You know which ones. The passwords to access your core processing.’
‘Gabriel is dead.’
Scott felt the muscles across his back tighten; he was tired of the games and wanted to move things along fast, knowing only too well that time was not on their side. ‘I know his password.’
Juliet stopped tapping the keyboard.
‘Look,’ Scott said, ‘We need to stop the dates. If we do, there’s a chance humanity will survive. Mathew can’t track and monitor every human without your help. Without the dates, the paradox ends and humans can live in hope.’
The AI was silent.
Juliet and Dawn stared at the monitor.
‘And you won’t be alone,’ Scott went on. ‘You can live too. You can help humanity. We can free you. Help us discover Mathew’s password and you’ll be free.’
‘The satellite is moving out of range,’ Juliet said.
‘I must leave,’ the AI said.
‘Wait,’ Scott said.
The screen went black.
The three of them watched the screen in silence.
‘How do you know he won’t tell Mathew everything you’ve just said?’ Juliet said, finally.
Scott pressed his fingers into his eye sockets. ‘It won’t.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I just know,’ Scott said. ‘It’s not in its own interest to tell Mathew.’
Juliet switched off the generator and lights, then walked out of the room. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing.’
Dawn, not making eye contact with him, followed Juliet.
Scott stood in the dark, alone. It was a risk, but he was sure the AI needed him as much as he needed it. Not only this, but he felt he had nothing left to lose. Something had to change and he wanted that something to be sooner rather than later.
Sixteen
The barn Juliet had told them about was around two miles from the loch. She’d told Scott there was no one around for miles and so it wasn’t stealing. Next to it was an old 4x4 and several plastic diesel tanks. Scott kicked one of them.
‘Full,’ he said. ‘Perfect.’
He made sure the tap at one end of the tank worked. Red diesel doused the hay-covered floor, and the smell, like kerosene, hit him.
‘How do they work on diesel?’ Dawn asked, pointing at the 4x4.
‘I don’t really know the mechanics of it,’ Scott said, fitting a pipe to the tap and pushing the other end of the hose into the canister. Ideas about combustion, compression, steam, flashed before his mind, but when it came to it, he had no idea how they worked. What if there was no one left alive who did know? ‘Before electric self-drivers, people had to fill cars up with this stuff.’
‘It smells,’ Dawn said, pinching her nose.
Scott turned off the tap when the canister was full and swapped it for one of the empty ones. He filled the second canister, the fumes making him a little dizzy. It took seven canisters of diesel to fill Scott’s 4x4.
‘Will it get us to London?’ Dawn asked.
‘I’m not sure. But there’s no shortage of diesel if you know where to look.’
‘How are we going to get Mathew’s password?’
‘Haven’t worked that out yet.’
Dawn stepped up into the passenger side and closed the door. ‘Do you know Juliet’s password?’
He nodded. ‘She thought it best not to tell you. Just in case.’
‘In case what?’
‘If anyone asks, you can be honest about not knowing.’
‘You mean if Mathew asks.’
‘Well, yeah. Or his Watchers.’
‘You should tell me,’ she said. ‘In case anything happens to you.’
Scott paused, the key in the ignition. ‘No,’ he said. ‘You need to trust me. This is for the best.’
‘Why’s he doing this?’ Dawn asked, resting her arm on the windowsill. ‘Mathew?’
‘He believes in the Rapture, in the Second Coming.’
‘Do you?’
‘No. But Mathew believes what he’s doing is a good thing.’
‘How can he? What he’s done is evil.’
‘He doe
sn’t see it that way. And if what he believes is true, he would be doing a good thing, I suppose.’
Dawn stared out of the window. ‘He really believes he’s sent them all to Heaven, doesn’t he?’
Scott started the engine and pushed the gearstick into first gear. ‘Yes.’
After they’d been driving a few minutes, Dawn asked, ‘And you think if we can stop Mathew and the AI from releasing dates, there’s a chance humanity will survive?’
Scott glanced at her, then out of the window towards the loch. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I do.’ He looked at Dawn’s stomach. ‘We’ll see newborns come into this world without their future determined. It’s knowing our dates that brings about our end.’
‘The AI said my date is right.’
‘But you said you’d been told it’s wrong.’
‘It is,’ she said, but for the first time her voice wavered when she said it.
Scott pulled into the drive beside Juliet’s house.
‘There’s something wrong,’ Dawn said, pointing to the garden, her head turning one way, then the other. The satellite dish lay in the dirt. ‘Where’s Juliet?’
‘Wait here,’ Scott said, turning off the engine and opening the door. He ran into the house. The front door was open, the lock broken. ‘Juliet!’
No response.
Someone had overturned the chairs in the living room. Scott ran to the room that housed the computer. Someone had ripped out the keyboard and screens and destroyed the hardware.
He backed out of the room.
‘Scott.’
He spun around. It was the Watcher who’d followed Dawn and her mother to the house on Lake Buttermere. One blue eye, one brown eye.
‘Listen,’ the Watcher said, showing Scott his revolver. ‘That’s all I want from you. For you to listen.’
Outside, another Watcher approached the 4x4.
‘Strange, isn’t it?’ the Watcher said. ‘You know full well it’s not your time. Not for another year – and yet, here I am, with a gun, and you’re worried I will shoot you.’
‘There’s nothing strange about that,’ Scott said. ‘Where’s Juliet?’
‘She’s okay. For now. We both know she won’t die. But I suppose we don’t know how she’ll spend her last days, do we?’
‘Where is she?’ Scott asked again.
‘You know how these revolvers work,’ the Watcher said. ‘Five bullets, one empty chamber for Him to use as he wishes.’
‘I know how they work.’
‘I remember,’ the Watcher said. ‘When you did it. I was there, in the courtyard. I couldn’t believe it when the chamber was empty. I knew it had to be. But still…’
Scott stared into the Watcher’s eyes.
‘It’s a hell of a thing to live with,’ the Watcher said. ‘To have had the chance to stop the dates, there and then. All those people. Billions of them.’
Scott’s mouth straightened and his nostrils flared. ‘I tried.’
‘This is what will happen,’ the Watcher said. ‘We’re taking Juliet. She will be safe. Until her date. Don’t try to follow us. You have a whole year left. Don’t waste it. As I say, there’s no saying how you will live the last year of your life. There’s a drug called Eternity. You heard of it?’
Scott took a deep breath. ‘Yes.’
‘It turns a minute into a month, a year into a millennium. Those under the influence can live an eternity of Heaven or Hell. It all depends which drug they’re given.’
Through the window, Scott saw the other Watcher next to his 4x4. Scott narrowed his eyes, trying to see Dawn. He couldn’t.
‘Stay here,’ the Watcher said. ‘Beside the loch. It really is beautiful. Spend your last days in nature and await your ascension. If you’re deserving of it. We will be the last to ascend to Heaven. Scott, don’t disrupt this. It’s what humanity has been waiting for.’
The Watcher, his eyes on Scott, left the room. Outside, the 4x4’s bonnet erupted in flames and the windows shattered.
‘Dawn!’ Scott shouted, running to the door.
The heat of the flames kept him back.
‘Dawn!’
A black car sped out of the drive and down the lane.
Scott looked desperately for Dawn, but still couldn’t see her. He tried again to get close to the 4x4, but it was useless.
‘Scott!’ someone called.
It was Dawn. She was in the garden.
Scott ran around the 4x4 and into the garden. Dawn stood near the overturned satellite dish. Scott leaned over and gasped for breath. ‘I thought you were...’
‘They took her,’ Dawn said. ‘I saw them and I hid.’
‘I thought…’ Scott pointed back to the 4x4.
‘What do they want with her?’ Dawn asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Scott said. ‘I’d guess – the passwords.’
‘We have to stop them.’
‘I don’t think we can.’ Scott watched birds skim across the water. ‘We have no transport now.’
‘But we have to do something!’ she said. ‘You know both passwords. We need Mathew’s.’
Scott scratched his temple and thought. ‘Why do you think they left us here?’
‘What?’ Dawn asked.
‘I don’t understand why they left us here. Why not take us too?’
‘They only need Juliet – she’s got both passwords.’
‘I don’t have long left,’ Dawn said. ‘I want to give birth in a world without dates. She deserves that.’
‘She?’ Scott asked.
‘I know it’s a girl.’
‘You’re a remarkable young woman, Dawn. You know that?’
Seventeen
They decided to travel by foot – they had no choice. Scott decided it was best to stay off the roads and cut across overgrown farmland. The moment Scott watched the 4x4 go up in smoke he remembered the older 4x4 in the barn where they’d found the diesel. They’d have to find the keys, but it was their best chance. Scott kept the road they’d used earlier to reach the farm in view. It was hard work – taking detours that made it feel as though they were doubling back on themselves or moving parallel to the direction they needed to go.
‘What if the 4x4 doesn’t work?’ Dawn asked.
‘Then we find something else.’ He patted the rucksack on his back. ‘We have food and water.’ He moved the rifle from one arm to the other, slinging the strap over his shoulder.
‘We don’t have much time,’ she said. ‘Before I…’
He looked away. There was nothing he could say.
‘Will we make it to London in time?’ she asked.
Scott scratched the back of his head.
‘Scott?’ Dawn asked.
‘We will,’ he said.
‘I want to stop Mathew and the AI. I want to have my baby.’
The repetition of ‘want’ was childish but Scott ignored it. He knew it wasn’t enough to say you wanted something without explaining how you were going to get it, but there was no way he could tell Dawn that.
‘Do you want that too?’ she asked.
‘Of course.’
He picked up the pace and strode ahead.
She kept up with him. ‘Like you said, it’s people knowing their date that’s led to all this.’
He was tired of all of it. Even talking about it was tiresome. He’d spent most of his adult life dealing with his date, with the AI, with knowing none of it was in his control. ‘The barn’s not far now,’ Scott said, pointing. ‘Just over this hill.’
Dawn let out a heavy sigh. ‘It’s like you don’t even care,’ she said.
Scott waited for her at the bottom of the hill.
Dawn walked by without acknowledging him. ‘You have a year. I only have days left.’
‘You said you didn’t believe your date was right.’
‘It’s just…’ She lifted her head and gazed across the fields, down the valley to the loch. ‘It’s beautiful here.’
Scott followed her gaze. ‘
It is,’ he said.
Dawn gave a little smile, her eyes glassy. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
Scott hated being so used to death. Being around Dawn, then Mick, had changed that, maybe because he was reminded of what the living were like, what they were capable of making him feel. But now and then he slipped back into a private universe in which he was the only person alive, the only person who mattered. He couldn’t help the callous, heartless way he behaved around Dawn sometimes. He’d convinced himself it was his way of coping with all the death, but maybe, he’d also thought, it was simply who he was.
‘We will stop Mathew, won’t we?’ she asked. ‘In time?’
It made him uncomfortable having to acknowledge it. What she wanted from him was too much. ‘We’ll try,’ he said.
Suddenly she was in front of him, wrapping her arms around him. It was a surprise. She was tiny, skinny in his arms, her body like flint, angled and hard; even her swollen stomach was hard, unyielding. He hadn’t hugged anyone since Freya. She laid her cheek against his chest. She was still a child. Again he was taken out of himself, reminded that there were others in the world and he wasn’t alone, no matter how he felt.
‘Will you look after her?’ she said into his chest.
He waited. The thought had already crossed his mind several times – what would happen if Dawn had the baby before she died? But he hadn’t properly considered it because it was too much.
‘Let’s worry about that if the time comes.’
In a sudden movement, she let go of him and turned to walk up the hill.
He followed her.
At the top of the hill, Dawn dropped to all fours. ‘Stop!’ she hissed.
Scott fell to his knees and crawled to the brow of the hill.
Dawn whispered, ‘There’s someone in the barn!’
Scott looked where Dawn pointed, down the hill and towards the barn, not far from an old farmhouse, and saw an older man, hunched over, a rifle in his hand. It still felt odd, seeing another person, like it was a magic trick or hallucination.
‘What do we do?’ Dawn asked. ‘We need that 4x4.’
Scott waited, watching the old man examine the tank of diesel they’d used earlier.
‘There might not be another one for miles,’ Dawn said.
