The Rising Tide

by J. Scott Coatsworth

  “Jayson’s gone, too, you know. Off to fight the war. They sent him to Seattle for his training.”

  He stiffened in her arms. That had happened after he left. His memories were getting all jumbled up. “I’m sure he’ll be okay,” he lied, and let her go, kissing her cheek. “Can I take this?” He held up the framed photo.

  “Go ahead. He would like for you to have it.”

  Aaron nodded and put it inside the duffel.

  “Call me when you get to Frontier Station.” She rubbed his arm and then turned away.

  Aaron pulled out the bauble Lilith had given him and opened the door.

  He squeezed it and the world changed.

  ANDY EASED herself over the lip of the tunnel, dropping to the ground into the space on one side of the stairs.

  It was dark down there, covered by a variety of tropical foliage, huge green leaves black with night shielding her from view.

  Shandra and Eddy followed, landing softly next to her.

  They’d decided to stop and eat before they went into the strange little village in the middle of the cavern. Who knew if the food was safe to eat, or if it was what kept the villagers drugged?

  “We should call it Xanadu,” Eddy whispered as Andy pulled out something for them to eat from her pack.

  “Xanadu?” Andy knew the old tri dee update—something or other about roller-skating, if she remembered right.

  “From ‘Kubla Khan.’ The old Samuel Taylor Coleridge poem.”

  In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

  A stately pleasure dome decree:

  Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

  Through caverns measureless to man

  Down to a sunless sea.

  So twice five miles of fertile ground

  With walls and towers were girdled round:

  And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,

  Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;

  And here were forests ancient as the hills,

  Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

  “Oooh, that’s beautiful.” She wasn’t familiar with it, but it had a lovely rhythm.

  Eddy nodded. “The story is that Coleridge was high on an opium trip. He had this amazing dream and woke up to write it down, but he only managed a couple pages before he was interrupted by a visitor. When he returned to it, the rest of the poem was gone from his head.” Eddy took a sip of water from his canteen.

  They shared a quick meal of dried meats and fruit that Andy had brought with her from Darlith. “That’s amazing. And a little sad.”

  “It is. I always wonder what the rest of the poem would have been like. My mother used to read it to me to put me to sleep. She had this old pop-up book that had been her grandmother’s.” Even in the darkness, Andy could see the faraway look in his eyes.

  “I still miss Earth too, sometimes.” Shandra’s voice was soft, distant.

  As she chewed on a piece of dried apple, Andy stared out into the darkness. It wasn’t pitch-black. A red fern not far from their hiding place gave off a soft pink glow, enough for her to see the edges of things.

  The place was eerie, though. Nothing moved. There was no breeze inside the mountain, and the temperature was a little warmer than she was used to.

  She wiped sweat off her brow with the back of her arm.

  Shandra pulled something out of her pack and sprinkled it with water. “Here.”

  It was a clean cloth. “Thanks. Not sure I’d want to live down here. It’s a bit….”

  “Claustrophobic?”

  “Yeah.” She wiped her face. The cool water felt really good. “Where did you come from, Shandra?” She’d met the woman before, but they’d never spent much time together.

  “Detroit. My mother met a man who was paying for a spot on one of the refugee ships in the final days. She… convinced him to bring her and me along.” Her eyes were bright in the partial light, but her dark skin faded into the night.

  Andy reached up and touched her cheek. It was wet. “What happened to her?”

  Shandra looked away. “Both of them died in the coyote run. The ship was old, falling apart. One of the seals broke, and everyone in that hold died.”

  “Holy fuck.” Eddy shook his head.

  “I was in the bathroom, which stayed sealed. It was two more days before we reached Forever and they found me.”

  Andy took Shandra’s hand and squeezed it. “I remember those ships. My father took me to one of them in the middle of the refugee crisis. It was the most horrible thing I’ve seen in my life.”

  Shandra nodded. “I still have nightmares. I remember you, though.” Shandra kept hold of her hand. “You were a couple of years younger than me. When they brought me onto Transfer Station, you saw me, and you ran to me and gave me the biggest hug. You wouldn’t let go for five minutes.”

  Andy shook her head. “I don’t remember that. Those were awful days.”

  “They were.” Eddy closed his pack. “We barely made it here before the end.”

  “You and…?”

  “Davian. He disappeared soon after.” He stared out at the cavern. “I wonder if he’s here? One of the zombies of Xanadu?” It was probably intended as a joke, but it came out wistful.

  “He’s the only one here who you knew before, right?”

  Eddy nodded. “We had a complicated relationship. He was my lover once, before I transitioned.”

  “I wonder sometimes what trans folk will do here, where we can’t offer them genetic reprofiling anymore.” It was a question that had bothered her before. So many skills had been lost in the mad rush to escape the Earth. Treatments for cancer and other deadly diseases. Technology to build, to create, to communicate. They were having to learn a whole new way of life.

  “I don’t know.” He was quiet for a moment. “I guess we’ll do what they always have—adapt the best we can.”

  Andy thought about it for a moment. “I suppose that’s all we can do. So, shall we go?”

  “We should leave our packs here.” Eddy looked around. “There’s a dark place by the stairs where we can cover them in dead leaves. Take only what we need.”

  “Good idea.” Andy took out a flashlight and her knife and closed her own pack. She tucked it into the hollow in the cavern rock that he’d indicated.

  When the others had stashed theirs too, she covered all three with enough debris to hide them from casual inspection.

  Eddy, with a nervous glance at the darkness, pulled his crossbow off his back and cocked it.

  Then they set off through the jungle, paralleling the pathway toward Xanadu.

  Chapter Nine: In the Hut

  DEVON COLLAPSED in the pilot’s chair of the shuttle, pulling off his helmet. “Fuck, that feels good.” Cool air washed over his face.

  “You did a great job.” All eight charges had been placed, a process that had taken more than six hours to complete. Though she no longer felt physical fatigue, Ana was tired too. She wanted something distracting to clear her mind. Once she got Devon home—

  The shuttle shook, her visuals going jarringly out of focus.

  “What happened?” She’d lost control of the shuttle. That shouldn’t have happened.

  The shaking stopped. She could see Devon’s face staring up at the camera, white with fear, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. “Can you hear me?”

  Devon was panicking. He looked around wildly and started to unstrap himself.

  “Devon, I need you to calm down. If you can hear me, sit down and nod.”

  He stopped, sank into his chair, and then nodded.

  “I can’t hear you. I need you to answer me with yes or no answers. Nod for yes, shake your head for no. Is that clear?” He was in danger, and she was safe back at home.

  Devon nodded.

  “Good. Okay, I’m guessing something struck the ship. Is it still holding air?”

  He nodded.

  “There are no leaks, as far as you can tell?”

  He shook his he
ad.

  “Good. That’s very good.” Why couldn’t she control the ship? “Okay, I want you to run a diagnostic. Here’s what you need to do. I will give you each step, one at a time. Are you ready?” She needed to discover if the ship was still operational. If so, she had a chance to get him home.

  He nodded again. “Okay, here’s what I want you to do.” She walked him through it, step by step. Thank the stars he could still hear her. This would have been next to impossible if her audio channel to the shuttle had been shut down in both directions.

  He followed her instructions perfectly. In three minutes, the diagnostic was running.

  He sat back and started shaking.

  “Listen to me, Devon. We’re going to get you home. You hear me?”

  “How?” he mouthed.

  “We’re going to teach you how to fly a shuttle.”

  AARON STEPPED through the door into the park, and when he turned to look behind him, his mother’s house was gone.

  It was a cool, cloudy day, like early November, with a breeze blowing up off the river to thread its fingers under his shirt.

  Aaron shivered.

  The river was brown with silt. A woman ran past him, jogging along the riverside path. A hover boarder zipped by overhead from the other direction, giving him a thumbs-up.

  How had all these people faced their last day, when the end had finally come?

  A man stood with his back to Aaron, down at the waterside. He wore a checkered flannel shirt. His square shoulders and red hair told Aaron who he was at a glance.

  Aaron crossed the pathway, careful to avoid a slide boarder who slipped past him heading north. He came to stand next to the man. “Bit cool today.”

  “Sure is. Might even get into the fifties this winter….” The man turned to look at him. “Hey, son! What are you doing down here? I thought your mother was watching you this afternoon.”

  “It’s a long story.” This was his father at around thirty-five, not long before he’d left them for good. Aaron was familiar with the shirt. His mother had given it to Jackson for Christmas that year. “What are you doing?”

  “Just soaking in a little of the Old Lady. I’ll be gone for a couple months this next time. I like to have some memories to tide me over while I’m stuck in a tin can.”

  Aaron nodded. “I remember what it was like when you were gone. Mom took care of us, but it wasn’t the same. Then you’d come home and bring us something amazing from Frontier Station, and it was all forgotten.” He sighed.

  Jackson ruffled his hair. “I always miss you when I’m up there.”

  “I know you do.” Aaron took a deep breath. It was a gorgeous day, the sun warm on his shoulders. He’d almost forgotten what that felt like. A pair of ducks flew over the river, the mallard quacking and chasing after the other.

  “What brought you down here to find me? You did tell Glory you were coming.”

  Aaron nodded. “I was looking for you. Ana and Lex sent me.” He was pretty sure this wasn’t Jackson, though. Not the current Jackson. Another memory.

  “Who?”

  “Nothing. Just a couple friends.”

  “Ah.” His father—or the memory of him—knelt to pick up a flat rock. “Did I ever show you how to skip a rock across the river?”

  Aaron smiled. “Yeah. But show me again.”

  Jackson grinned, that wide smile that always made those around him feel good. “You hold it like so.” He held up his hand. “Wrap your index finger around the edge. Keep it flat to the ground. Then you pull back, and let it go like this.” The white rock flew through the air and skipped across the surface of the river. “One, two, three times!” Jackson picked up another and handed it to Aaron. “Now you try it.”

  His hand was warm on Aaron’s arm as he showed his son how to fling the rock through the air with enough spin and speed to skip across the water.

  Aaron picked up a stone, remembering how simple things had been then. He closed his eyes for a moment, squeezing back tears.

  Jackson patted him on the shoulder. “Go ahead. Just like I showed you.”

  Aaron pulled his arm back and then flung the stone across the water.

  “One, two, three, four!” Jackson exclaimed, holding up his hands to high-five Aaron. “The student surpasses the master.”

  Aaron laughed. This was the man he missed, the carefree soul who loved to spend time with his sons when he was home. “I wish you were still here.”

  “I know.” Jackson pulled Aaron into his arms.

  His father thought he meant the next mission. Not his father. His father’s memory.

  “I’m sorry I left you and your mother and brother. I’m sorry I didn’t come home.”

  Aaron stiffened under Jackson’s embrace. “What?”

  Jackson held him out at arm’s length. “I’m not him. But I remember what happened to him. To me. We loved you, Aaron Hammond. He still does.”

  The memories were all flowing together. Time was confused, and so was Aaron. “I don’t understand.”

  “Come with me. I’ll show you where he is. They’re waiting for you.”

  “They?”

  “Shhhh. Everything will make sense soon.” He took Aaron’s hand and pulled him up onto the pathway, putting an arm around his shoulders.

  Aaron allowed himself to be led down the riverside, hoping he wasn’t losing his mind.

  EDDY STARED warily at the small hut that lay across an open lawn, maybe fifteen meters from where they knelt. The jungle gave them cover, but there was nothing to hide them in the intervening space.

  His crossbow lay on the ground next to him, ready for him to take up at a second’s notice.

  The huts were clustered around a small lake that glimmered in the light from lanterns around its perimeter. The huts themselves were small, no more than two meters square. How they managed to fit anything besides a small bed inside, he had no idea.

  It had taken them the better part of an hour to get there from the edge of the cavern. They’d taken their time, working their way through the underbrush. There was no animal life here, at least none they had seen beyond the two sheep and the people who had vanished into their dwellings for the night.

  “There’s no one here,” Andy argued, glancing around the wide green sward.

  “You can’t know that for sure. Any one of those huts could house a guard or two.” He could see at least seven of them nearby, each with a dark window space pointed in their general direction.

  “We haven’t seen any activity since nightfall. Do we just wait here all night?” She sounded annoyed.

  “I didn’t say that. Let’s just give it some time to see if anything reveals itself.” Eddy got it. He was tired too. It had been a long day and a weird one at that.

  “All right. Ten more minutes.” They sat in silence, watching the cluster of huts.

  These must have been mostly refugees, people who had come to Forever hoping for a new start, for an escape from the tyranny, pollution, and decadence of Old Earth. People who had never been officially accounted for, or counted and logged at Transfer Station before it had been destroyed.

  And what had they found? Some kind of mass enslavement, cut off from the rest of human society.

  Eddy shuddered as he thought about the lives these poor souls led in Xanadu. It was paradise in appearance only.

  “I see something.” Shandra interrupted his thoughts. She pointed at one of the farther huts.

  Eddy picked up his crossbow.

  Sure enough, someone was coming out of it. Whoever it was whistled softly in the darkness as he climbed the stairs of the next hut and disappeared inside. “What’s he doing?”

  Andy shrugged. “Making house calls?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  By mutual agreement, they waited another ten minutes. Eddy was just about to suggest that they try one of the huts when the man came out again and clambered down the steps to the lawn. He turned and bypassed the next cabin, then entere
d the one closest to them.

  It was hard to make out any details other than his general shape. He was stocky and masculine, with close-cropped hair, its color indeterminate in the dim light.

  The door closed, leaving them in doubt again. He eased the crossbow back to the ground.

  “I say we go into the hut he skipped.” Andy stared across the grassy space at the dark building.

  Eddy nodded. “He seems to spend ten minutes or so at each hut. Let’s wait and see if he moves on first.”

  Sure enough, the man emerged like clockwork from the hut and moved along down the line, disappearing from sight.

  “Okay, this is our chance. One at a time. Andy, want to go first?”

  “Sure—I’ll make for the porch. It looks dark up there.” She crept out of the jungle and ran across the intervening space to the structure. Night ivy on the side of the house cast a silver light across the ground, throwing the darkness of the porch into sharp relief.

  Turning, Andy signaled for them to follow.

  Shandra went next.

  Soon all three of them were on the little porch. The hut looked like it had been made by hand from mallowood or something like it. It was neat and utilitarian, with no visible decoration. “Ready?” Eddy whispered.

  The others nodded.

  He pushed open the door a hair with the end of his crossbow. “Hello?” he said softly.

  There was no answer.

  Eddy opened the door wide and stepped inside. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, but soon he could make out details in the gloom.

  The room was tiny, with space only for a small bed. A woman lay all alone on it, fast asleep. At least, he hoped she was asleep.

  Andy and Shandra came in to stand next to him.

  “I think I know what he was doing in the other huts,” Eddy whispered.

  The woman was pregnant.

  Chapter Ten: Dreams and Nightmares

  ANA BREATHED a sigh of relief.

  It had taken them half an hour, but they’d managed to get the audio online. It was so much easier now that Devon could reply to her directly instead of miming or writing down his responses.