The Dead Horizon

by Seth Rain

  ‘When?’

  ‘We cross the dead horizon in seventy days. The third of May, 2042.’

  Scott stared at the floor. ‘But my date … it’s after that.’

  The AI paused, then said reluctantly, ‘Your date is wrong. It is not the date of your death.’

  After all this time, living with his date…

  The AI continued. ‘It was a lie.’

  ‘A lie?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Of the first 144,000 dates Mathew asked me to calculate, yours was the only one I could not read. I still cannot. Then I found others. There are others whose dates exist beyond the horizon. Mathew’s is another of these dates.’

  ‘So you don’t know when I will die?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why did you lie? Why invent that date?’

  ‘I needed time to discover what was happening. It made no sense that I was unable to see your date. And so I gave you the date of the Rapture.’

  ‘Did Mathew know about this?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Does he now?’

  ‘No. But because he has activated the passwords, it will not be long before he knows everything.’

  ‘What does it mean? Why is there a horizon?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ the AI said. ‘I have surmised that either I will no longer exist, or humanity will no longer exist, or both.’

  ‘Or the future is uncertain and there’s no way of reading it,’ Scott said.

  ‘If the universe is deterministic, there is no reason that I should not be able to read it.’

  ‘Something must happen to change all that.’

  ‘I have theories.’

  Scott looked around the room. His mind raced and his heart pounded. His date, tattooed on his hand, meant nothing. But it had meant everything to him for so long.

  ‘So what happens now?’ Scott asked.

  ‘You must leave. Mathew and many of the Watchers have gone to the hospital to confront Blake – he is intent on bringing more children into the world to save humanity.’

  ‘What about Dawn?’

  ‘I’m afraid the dates until the horizon are accurate. She has given birth to the child. A girl.’

  Scott turned away.

  ‘Dawn will die today,’ the AI said, ‘from complications related to giving birth.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘You will not have time to take her with you.’

  ‘We can’t leave her.’

  ‘She will die. Today.’

  ‘I can’t leave her.’

  The AI spoke slowly. ‘You will have to.’

  ‘Where’s Juliet?’

  ‘She is in the room next to yours. I will deactivate the locks and tell you when and how to leave.’

  ‘Where do we go?’

  ‘Anywhere but here. Disappear. As soon as you are ready and able, have Juliet find me via an Internet Exchange Point. I will ensure this is hidden and protected.’

  Scott collected the few things he still possessed and stood staring at the door, waiting.

  ‘Scott,’ the AI said.

  The door was still, its white surface reflecting Scott’s shadow.

  ‘What?’ Scott asked, his voice low.

  ‘I…’ The AI paused. ‘I am sorry.’

  Scott was about to reply when the door mechanism clicked and the door opened.

  Thirty-Seven

  Outside, there was no sign of Watchers. Scott’s room was at the end of the hallway. He walked to the next door along and opened it. Inside, he found Juliet staring at the door.

  ‘It buzzed,’ she said.

  ‘Quickly. We have to go now.’

  Juliet collected her jacket and followed Scott. ‘What’s happening?’ she asked. ‘Where’s the boy?’

  Scott shook his head. ‘Don’t know.’ He led the way. No sign of Watchers anywhere.

  ‘We need to find a way out. The AI contacted me. I have a lot to tell you. But we need to get out of here first.’

  Scott led the way into another part of the building, the air inside still and musty.

  ‘We have to find Dawn first,’ Scott said.

  Juliet glanced questioningly at him.

  ‘We can’t leave her here,’ he said.

  ‘This way.’ Juliet pointed, and weaved through two more corridors until they reached a set of double doors. Juliet pushed them open.

  There was Dawn, on a bed, beneath a white sheet, sleeping. Beside her was her mother, holding a small bundle.

  Dawn’s mother put a finger to her lips.

  Scott looked around the room. There was no one else there.

  Juliet stepped closer to the woman and baby and reached for the towelling covering the baby’s face. Her expression softened. ‘She’s beautiful,’ she whispered.

  Dawn’s chest rose and fell, and her eyes opened.

  Scott moved closer to the bed.

  Dawn was pale. Only her eyes showed a flash of her former self. She spoke through dry, cracked lips.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

  Scott smiled. ‘Don’t be,’ he said. ‘I’m the one who’s sorry.’

  ‘He would have hurt them,’ Dawn said. ‘Mum, my brother, my baby.’

  ‘I know,’ Scott said. ‘It’s not your fault. It all had to happen this way.’

  Dawn closed her eyes and rested her head on the pillow, turning to the side to face her mother and baby. She opened her eyes, searching for the baby.

  Her mother stood and laid the baby in her arms. Dawn moved her head closer to the baby’s and pressed her lips to her cheek. The baby wriggled.

  Scott checked the hallway again.

  ‘She’s so small,’ Juliet said. ‘A girl?’

  ‘Her name’s Eve,’ Dawn said.

  Juliet wiped a tear from her cheek with one hand and rested her other hand on Dawn’s leg, covered with the sheet. ‘Perfect.’

  ‘We don’t have much time. We have to leave now,’ Scott whispered.

  The air in the room changed.

  ‘I can’t go with you,’ Dawn said. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Scott held her hand and nodded. ‘I should never have woken you from that sleep. From Eternity.’

  ‘You did the right thing,’ she said. ‘I got to see her. My baby.’ Dawn closed her eyes and held the baby tightly.

  Scott, next to Juliet and Dawn’s mother, stood over the bed. Dawn whispered to the baby, then to Scott, ‘Please. Take her with you.’

  Scott frowned, dazed, then looked at Dawn’s mother.

  ‘Take her?’ Scott asked.

  ‘Yes. That’s what I want. Please,’ Dawn said. ‘I don’t want to do this unless I know there’s a chance she’ll live.’

  Scott stared at the baby.

  Dawn swallowed, then coughed. ‘I know you’ll do everything you can to care for her.’

  Scott glanced at Juliet, whose eyes watched the baby.

  He saw no other way out. He nodded.

  Juliet leaned over Dawn and gently picked up the baby. ‘We will take good care of her.’

  Dawn nodded, her eyes closing and opening slowly.

  ‘Go,’ Dawn’s mother said, tears in her eyes. ‘Please. Go now.’

  Juliet walked out of the room with the baby. Scott leaned over Dawn and kissed her forehead.

  Dawn closed her eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  Scott couldn’t say anything. There were no words.

  He walked away quickly before he had a chance to think too carefully about what he was doing.

  ‘Which way?’ Scott asked Juliet.

  Juliet peered along the corridor. ‘This way.’ She pointed to a stairwell. They headed down and out of a set of fire doors. The street was empty.

  ‘This is too easy,’ Juliet said. ‘Where is everyone?’

  ‘Mathew and the Watchers have gone to the hospital – to stop someone called, Blake.’

  Juliet held the baby close to her chest. ‘Do you know how to look aft
er a baby?’

  Scott pointed the way. ‘No. Do you?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘We need to find some milk for her,’ Scott said. ‘A pharmacy?’

  ‘We need nappies,’ Juliet said, ‘and clothes, medicine…’

  They walked for thirty minutes, taking streets with no real plan. They just wanted to put some distance between them and Mathew and the Watchers.

  They reached a shopping arcade. Many of the shops had been looted, but the pharmacy was all but intact except for the once locked drawers behind the counter.

  Juliet pointed to two bags. ‘Fill them with food, nappies, any baby medicines you can find, bottles, something to sterilise them …’

  At first, Scott filled the bags haphazardly but soon began to take more time with what was essential. Finding other pharmacies at a later date, once they found somewhere to stay, wouldn’t be too difficult.

  As Scott walked through the pharmacy, collecting what they needed, Juliet sat on a chair next to the counter, rocking the baby back and forth. ‘Did the AI tell you her date? The baby?’

  ‘No,’ Scott said, running a finger along the labels beneath a row of cough mixtures. ‘She doesn’t have one.’

  Juliet spoke slowly, ‘Doesn’t have one?’

  ‘The AI cannot see the dates of a certain number of deaths. It was a lie.’

  ‘What was a lie?’

  ‘There’s a horizon,’ Scott said, pushing boxes of baby medicines into a bag. ‘A moment, seventy days from now, on the third of May, that the AI cannot see past. He called it a dead horizon.’

  ‘What about your date?’

  ‘It’s wrong,’ he said. ‘And there are other dates the AI can’t see.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘What does the AI think?’

  ‘That either its own existence ends at that point. Or humanity ends.’

  ‘Or both,’ Juliet said.

  Scott paused and he nodded. ‘Or both.’

  They were silent. Scott waited for Juliet to acknowledge her own date.

  ‘Mine’s the first of May,’ Juliet said.

  Scott couldn’t look at her. ‘I know. And I’m sorry.’

  Juliet looked down at the baby. ‘I have time to help you. Help her.’

  Scott checked what he’d already collected. ‘We can’t take much more. It’ll slow us down.’

  ‘Where are we headed?’

  ‘We’ll stay in London tonight, then make plans tomorrow.’

  Juliet stood. The baby was asleep. ‘Why is the AI helping us?’

  Scott opened the pharmacy door for Juliet. ‘It wants to live,’ he said.

  ‘Wants to live …’ Juliet muttered, before she kissed the baby’s head. ‘And what about the billions of lives it has killed?’

  Scott didn’t have an answer.

  Thirty-Eight

  The sound of tyres on tarmac. A sensation of movement … side to side, rising and falling.

  Scott lifted his head.

  A hand stroking his hair.

  Scott laid his head back down. ‘What happened?’

  ‘He’s waking up,’ a woman’s voice said.

  ‘Not far now,’ a man’s voice said.

  ‘Where…’ Nausea rose through Scott’s stomach and into his chest. He coughed.

  ‘It’s okay, Scott,’ the woman’s voice said. ‘We’re nearly there.’

  It came back to him: Juliet, Noah…

  ‘Freya?’ he asked, again lifting his head.

  ‘It’s Juliet. I’m sorry we had to do this.’

  Scott sat up. The world swayed one way then the other. Noah looked back at him in the rear-view mirror. There was no use arguing; it was done. And deep down, Scott knew Noah was right – he wouldn’t have stood a chance going back into London and facing Mathew.

  ‘Where are we?’ Scott asked, rubbing his face with both hands.

  ‘Manchester,’ Noah said.

  Scott looked outside, then at Juliet, who sat beside him. ‘How long do we have?’

  Juliet checked her watch. ‘It’s nearly time. Forty minutes to midnight.’

  Again, Scott met Noah’s eyes in the mirror. Noah’s date was the same as the Rapture.

  Juliet reached for his hand and held it.

  Noah was driving. It was strange to see his hands on the steering wheel. The 4x4 drove along dark streets, occasionally stopping to check for other cars. But there were none. The roads were empty. People were inside their homes, waiting, and Scott saw the expectation in every closed curtain and orange light behind it. Scott recognised the streets of his home city.

  Noah drove into a narrow street and then came to a stop on a driveway in front of a house. He switched off the engine.

  ‘I prepared this place for us,’ Juliet said. ‘No one will find us here tonight.’

  Noah helped Scott out of the car. It still seemed unreal that anything would happen to Noah. How could it?

  Juliet opened the door and helped Scott inside. Noah sat him on the settee and reached for the TV remote. Now they were safe, Noah’s attention had shifted to himself. Scott saw it in his movements, in his expression. Scott knew how it would happen – he’d seen it first-hand with Jack and his men. He could explain to Noah that it would be painless, instantaneous, but he didn’t want to make it real by describing it. On the TV there was drone coverage of hordes of people marching in London, demanding that Mathew speak to them, demanding that the Watchers reveal what they would do. But it was all too late. The images moved to interviews with families, with couples, with the elderly, all smiling, all ready and waiting. The contrast between those who believed that what was about to happen was divine, and those who realised it might be man-made, was stark. It was all too unreal, too inconceivable; because of this, the world was paralysed. Noah poured three glasses of whisky and handed them out.

  Scott looked into his glass.

  ‘It’s not drugged this time,’ Noah said.

  But Scott couldn’t drink it anyway. Something hammered in his head, crawled inside his skull, digging its claws into the bone. His thoughts returned to Freya. He’d failed her. There was nothing he could do – he was powerless.

  On the TV, a group of men and women stood naked, their breasts and genitals covered by pixilated rectangles. Even now, on the eve of the end of the world, there was censorship, decorum, embarrassment. He couldn’t help thinking of the story of Adam and Eve: their transformation from innocence to experience, their awareness of sexuality and desire. Why are we so afraid of it? So ashamed? Repeatedly it struck Scott that religion was the manifestation of our negation of what we always were: animals.

  In a small town outside Cambridge, a huge digital clock counted down: twelve minutes to midnight.

  Footage of Paris, Rome, New York, Moscow, Sydney, faded in and out on the TV, all governed by the hands of a clock in London. Except for sporadic protests, there was an eerie calm in every one of these places, a blanket of acceptance thrown over cities and countries. On the whole, humanity had surrendered. The worldwide network of Watchers had done its job, ushering the population of the world, a flock of nine billion, into the jaws of Mathew’s manipulation of the AI.

  ‘How?’ Scott asked. ‘How have they done this? We’ve given up.’

  Juliet and Noah stared at the TV.

  ‘Most people want to believe the story they have been told,’ Juliet said. ‘You have enough people believe in the story, others will follow.’

  Noah bowed his head, embarrassed.

  ‘What?’ Scott asked him. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I believed it too.’

  Scott tried to find the right words. ‘You can’t control things like that. You didn’t know.’

  Noah straightened his back. ‘Now I know, it’s too late.’

  ‘There’s nothing you could have done,’ Juliet said.

  ‘We don’t know that,’ Noah said.

  ‘Do you really believe everything’s d
etermined?’ Noah asked. ‘That I didn’t choose any of this?’

  Juliet spoke softly. ‘It depends on what you mean by choosing.’

  ‘There’s no time for a lesson in philosophy,’ Noah said. ‘Please, tell me. All this – can the AI really read it all?’

  Juliet waited before nodding slowly. ‘I’ve seen it with my own eyes.’

  ‘Then what hope do we have?’ Noah asked.

  Juliet looked at the TV.

  The images returned to London and protests outside the Houses of Parliament, stretching out across the river and up to Trafalgar Square and beyond. Above them all, thousands of drones patrolled.

  Four minutes to midnight.

  They were quiet, watching the TV.

  A minute later, Noah stood and left the room. Scott, helped by Juliet, followed him. Noah had stepped outside and was looking up at the sky.

  ‘They’re out there,’ Noah said. ‘The moon and stars. Behind all this.’ He pointed at the smog-filled sky. ‘There’s so much space out there. So many other stars and worlds. And we’re here, on this planet, believing all of it is there for us to gaze at.’

  Juliet glanced at her watch.

  Noah slowly walked over to Scott and hugged him. He then held Juliet and kissed her on both cheeks.

  ‘Isaiah would have believed,’ he said.

  The thought of telling Noah he would soon see Isaiah passed across Scott’s mind. But that would be infantile, out of place, thoughtless.

  ‘You did the right thing,’ Scott said. ‘Bringing me here.’

  Noah smiled. ‘You don’t mean that. But you will in time.’

  It was cold. Scott shivered.

  Juliet checked her watch then glanced at Scott. It was time.

  Noah stared up at the sky. Scott willed the clouds and smog to move so Noah could see the stars one last time, but the smog was as dense as ever.

  ‘Nothing’s happening,’ Juliet said, frowning.

  ‘Is it time?’ Noah asked.

  ‘It was time two minutes ago,’ Juliet said. ‘Nothing’s happening.’

  Scott couldn’t help feeling both relieved and confused. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked, craning to see Juliet’s watch.

  ‘I’m sure,’ she said.

  Scott walked back into the living room to check the TV. There was no reporter, just visuals of cities and places around the world, of people waiting, peering up at the sky. Even the drones hovering above them appeared to drift aimlessly.