by J. J. Green
His sleeping mind jumbled up his parents with the events of his time aboard the Galathea. He would dream of fighting to get over to the Shadow of Grantwise, the former pilot, and take over the flight controls before the starship crashed. But when the Shadow turned around, it was his father. Or he would see Makey take aim at the Shadow that had been about to kill Harrington on Dawn, but the Shadow would transform into his mother. Whenever he woke, sweating, from the nightmares, he would always ask himself the same questions:
Had his parents been taken by Shadows? Was Earth being invaded?
He didn’t have any evidence for his fears, and all that he knew about Shadows contradicted the idea. If Shadows had taken his parents, he would have expected to find replicants in their place. And if Shadows were on the farm, he would have expected to find their traps. But he’d checked every meter of the familiar soil and found nothing but weeds and the remains of unharvested crops.
The only explanation for his parents’ disappearance the police could offer was that they’d gone for a walk—their car was in the garage—and they’d had an accident. It was also remotely possible that they’d been attacked or abducted, though crimes like that were unheard of in the area.
Carl couldn’t accept the police’s conclusions. His parents knew their surroundings too well to go anywhere unsafe or do anything dangerous. And they were fit and healthy for their ages. The idea that both of them could suddenly collapse, with neither of them able to get help, just wasn’t credible.
Over the last few days, Carl hadn’t paused in his search for them. He’d tramped the landscape, calling them both by name, and flown his dad’s old plane over the whole farm. He’d spoken to everyone who could possibly have seen them before they disappeared. He’d read everything he could on what had been happening in the area at the time, hoping to find something—anything—that might be remotely related.
Nothing. He’d found nothing that might lead him to the two people who meant the most in the world to him. It was as though they’d eaten breakfast, tidied up the kitchen, gone out, and stepped off a cliff into a sea that swept them away, leaving no trace.
As he sat in the dark, a deep fatigue came over Carl. He put his head on the table, resting it on his folded arms, and fell asleep.
In the middle of the night, a pinging awakened him. It was coming from the interface he’d fallen asleep on. Wincing from a crick in his neck, he sat up and checked the screen. It was an advertisement. Great. He was about to try to go back to sleep when he saw a message below the ad. It had arrived that morning from Harrington.
It had to have been the fourth or fifth time she’d mailed him. He’d put off replying because it felt like the moment he talked to someone who didn’t know his parents were missing, and told them the news, it would make it all real. He’d hoped that when he finally answered her messages, it would be to tell her about the crisis in the past tense, with his mum and dad safe and sound beside him.
But he couldn’t put off answering her any longer. He swiped the screen. As he read the message, his face fell. She was leaving already, going off on another mission. Between the lines, he read her frustration about the findings of the investigation into the Galathea incident. He’d barely registered the information when it had arrived, being too preoccupied with his parents’ disappearance, but he could imagine how disappointing the result would be to the security officer.
He was sad that he hadn’t had the chance to speak to her again before she left. He would miss her, and it would have been good to have someone to talk to about his fears for his parents. And though it hardly seemed important at that moment, he also hadn’t completely given up on the idea that she might one day be something more than a friend.
But maybe it wasn’t too late to speak to her. She’d only sent the mail the previous morning. She might not have left yet. He spoke a quick reply into his interface, asking if she could talk. After checking the message on the screen, he hit send.
Almost immediately, he got a vidmail request. As he read the sender, he understood that it hadn’t been too late. He accepted the request, and Harrington’s face appeared on the screen. He didn’t think he’d ever felt happier to see her.
“Woah. Is something wrong?” was the first thing she said. “Sorry, Lingiari, but you look kratting terrible.”
“It’s a long story, Harrington. I’d tell you all about it, but I dunno if you have time. Are you shipping out soon?”
“Huh. No, I’m not. And you might not be either, sorry. But tell me what’s happened there first. Are your folks okay?”
“No, they’re...they’re...” He fought to control himself.
“Krat, Lingiari. What’s wrong?”
He passed a hand over his eyes. “If you aren’t going anywhere soon, do you think you could come out here? Something’s happened, and I can’t make any sense of it.”
“Of course. I’ll be there on the next shuttle.”
Chapter Seven
Jas had never been to Australia. As the shuttle descended to the spaceport, she realized that she’d seen more of other planets than she’d seen of Earth. Most of her childhood had been spent on Mars. It was only when she’d reached puberty that it had occurred to the orphanage director that if she didn’t go to Earth soon, she would grow too tall and weak to ever go there. A few more years in a government institution in Chicago had passed, then she’d gone directly to security training and as soon as she’d graduated, she left on her first mission aboard a prospector.
At the time, she’d seen no reason not to start work immediately. She had no family nor any particularly close friends to leave behind, but as she looked out of the shuttle window at the bright blue of Botany Bay and the thin, white-yellow line of the beaches along the New South Wales coast, she wondered if she should have spent more time exploring the home planet of humankind. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that she’d been forced to stay a while. At least she could help Carl search for his missing parents. Their disappearance was very odd, and he was naturally out of his mind with worry.
Jas grabbed the cabin bag that held the few things she’d brought with her and went directly out to meet her friend. He was easy to spot among the happy faces of the people waiting to meet other passengers. He was smiling like them, but he had dark shadows under his eyes, and he’d lost so much weight he looked positively gaunt.
“Thanks for coming,” he said as she approached. After a welcoming hug, he pulled something out from his jacket. “These are for you.” It was a pair of flight goggles.
Jas took them from his hand. “Don’t tell me we’re going to—”
“The family plane’s the fastest way to get home. Unless you’re tired of flying after your trip?”
“No, I’d love to have a ride in your plane.”
“Great. Let’s go over to the airport,” Carl said. “The place is a lot quieter than it used to be. More and more people take the shuttle these days.”
Carl’s plane looked out of place among the expensive, gleaming hobby aircraft at the airport. Jas was no expert on airplanes, but she would have bet money that it was from the previous century. A simple two-seater, its paint was dull, and the fuselage was patched in places. But she liked the look of it. There was something about it that explained a lot about Carl.
He helped her up into the passenger seat. As he got in, she stowed her bag in the footwell, fastened her safety harness, and put on her goggles. Carl checked over his shoulder that she was ready, and he started the engine.
What followed was one of the most memorable experiences of Jas’ life. As they soared up into the cloudless sky, she understood why Carl loved flying so much. She’d never felt so free or exhilarated. The roar of the engine and the wind made it impossible to speak, but when her friend looked over his shoulder again, they shared a smile. Jas relaxed in her seat and gazed at the mountains at the edge of Sydney, content to be carried along in the plane.
A little while later but too soon, it seemed, they were descend
ing. She could see fields, a narrow road edged with trees, a house, and a flat, open place that she supposed served as an airstrip. Her bones were rattled as they landed on the bare dirt.
Carl took her over to his family home: a two-story, wide, wooden house. Once they were inside the cool interior, he showed her to the guest bedroom and left her to freshen up after her journey. She went to the bathroom and washed off the dirt that had accumulated on her face around the goggles before returning to the bedroom to unpack.
The room was simple, old-fashioned, and cozy. On the wall hung a photograph of a tall, part-Aboriginal man and a blonde, fair-skinned woman with their arms around a gawky, teenage Carl. Jas’ heart ached at the thought of how her friend had to be feeling about his parents’ disappearance. She also ached for the normal, loving childhood that she’d never known.
Downstairs, she found Carl in the large kitchen, his fingers sweeping an interface on the table. He looked up as she came in.
“Found any leads?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’ve looked everywhere and so have their friends and the police. It’s completely unlike them to just go off without telling someone, and they would never willingly let the farm fall into the state it’s in. I can’t help but think something terrible’s happened.”
Jas sat down opposite him and reached over to put her hand on his. “I’m so sorry. I’ll do everything I can to help. What was the place like when you got here? Did it look like there’d been a fight?”
“No. Everything looked normal. Like they’d just gone out for a walk and hadn’t come back.”
They talked on, discussing each possible reason for the disappearance and dismissing each in turn. Outside, the sky darkened as evening began to fall. Carl turned on the light and made them both dinner. As they ate, they continued to discuss the problem. What could persuade an older couple who had busy lives including daily duties to keep their farm going, to simply up and leave?
An answer, based on her and Carl’s experiences aboard the Galathea, nagged at the back of Jas’ mind. She didn’t name it, though. She didn’t want to make the suggestion to her friend.
They had both been silent for some time, Jas realized, when Carl asked if she would like to take a walk with him around the farm before it got too dark.
“I’d love to,” she replied.
The air felt thick and warm as they stepped out into the twilight. Cicadas sang loudly. All color had left with the setting of the sun, and the farm looked mysterious and other-worldly in shades of gray and black. They went through the yard and up a short slope that led to the fields. Trees rose tall and slim at their edges, and they followed a track toward them.
“This leads to the upper paddock,” Carl said, “where Mum taught me to ride.”
“You can ride horses too? That’s amazing. I can’t even drive a car.”
“Yeah, I can. Though I learned so long ago I can’t really remember. But I’ve seen the pictures of Mum teaching me. They don’t keep horses any more. They sold them all when I left to go to flight school. I think they must have only been keeping them for my benefit.”
“They sound like great parents.”
“Yeah, they’re good people. No one had anything but good to say about them when I went around the neighborhood making inquiries. Some people said how much they would be missed, like they didn’t expect to see them again.” Carl’s voice dried up. Jas touched his upper arm.
They were under the trees, walking through the leaf litter and fallen bark. The rustle their steps made echoed the sound of the breeze in the long, thin branches and leaves above them.
Carl stopped, his head hung low, as if he hadn’t the will to go farther. Jas waited beside him, her hand still gently touching his arm. After a moment, the pilot looked up, and his face was illuminated by the light of the rising moon. Jas could see glints in his dark eyes as he looked intently at her. He turned his body toward her and held her arms.
As he leaned closer, Jas closed her eyes, waiting for his kiss.
But a screech broke through the air, and she heard the flapping of wings. Carl exclaimed, and Jas opened her eyes. Flux had landed on his head.
“G’day, Jas,” the creature said. “Carl, you didn’t say we were having visitors.”
Chapter Eight
“This is some place,” Carl said as they drove up the long, wide driveway toward Sayen’s home four days later. Magnolia trees in flower bordered the pavement, their huge, creamy goblet-shaped flowers cupped toward the sky. “Sayen told me her family was well off, but I didn’t think she meant this well off.”
Jas had spoken into an intercom at the gates before their autocab had been allowed through. From there, it had been a five-minute drive through immaculate grounds to the house, or rather, the mansion. The cab stopped and they got out.
Jas didn’t normally ever think about the clothes she wore or how she looked, but it was impossible not to feel a little self-conscious in such an intimidating setting.
One of a pair of huge doors opened, and a maid in a traditional black and white uniform appeared. “Good afternoon, madam, sir. Would you please step this way?”
They followed the maid as she led them across a wood-paneled, wood-floored—real wood—hallway and through several sumptuous sitting rooms. Jas had a feeling that each room had a special name. That was the lounge, that was the parlor, she decided as they passed them. That room was for the gentlemen to withdraw and smoke after dinner, and that one was for the ladies’ morning sewing circle. It was like a film set.
The maid took them into a conservatory at the back of the house. It filled with orchids of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Somewhere out of sight, a fountain played.
Sayen was lying in a chaise longue next to the glass outer wall, an animal on her lap, accompanied by a woman in a wicker chair. Jas guessed the woman had to be Sayen’s mother, though she didn’t look much older than her daughter. Enough money could buy very effective anti-aging therapies. At the sight of them, the woman got up.
“Ms. Harrington, we met at the hospital, I believe, while Sayen was recuperating? How wonderful to see you again,” she said. “And you must be Mr. Lingiari. Please, come and sit down, both of you. What can Jessica get you to drink?”
Sayen looked stronger than she had when Jas had last seen her. She sat up and smiled. “Hi. It’s great to see you. Thanks for coming.”
After a few minutes’ small talk, Sayen gently hinted to her mother that she should leave her alone with her friends, and the woman left, telling them to ask Jessica for anything they wanted. Anything at all.
As soon as the woman was out of earshot, Sayen said, “The maid’s name is Florence, and she appreciates it if you call her that. Mama calls all our maids Jessica. She says it’s because she can’t remember their names. It’s so embarrassing.”
“You look amazing,” said Carl. “It’s hard to believe you were in such a bad way.”
“Thanks, Carl. I feel pretty good. I’m nearly back to normal. I had to learn to do just about everything again. But I’m not complaining. I’m grateful to be here. And that reminds me...” She turned to Jas. “I never thanked you properly for what you did for me. Not long after I woke up in stasis, Carl told me that it was you who saved me. He said it was you who refused to give up when everyone else was saying I was a goner. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here. I’ll never forget that, and, believe me, neither will my parents.”
Jas struggled to think of what to say. “It wasn’t anything—”
“Shut up, Harrington,” said Carl. “You were a bloody hero.”
Then she really didn’t know what to say. The best option seemed to be to change the subject. “Thanks. I mean it. But we haven’t only come here to see you, Sayen. We wanted to talk to you about something face to face.”
Sayen sat up straighter. “Really? What is it? This sounds interesting. I’ve been so bored while I’ve been recuperating. Tell me what it is.”
The eager anticipatio
n on her face changed to sorrow and concern as Lingiari told her about his missing parents. He spoke for several minutes, and after he finished, no one spoke for a while.
“Carl, I’m so sorry,” Sayen said quietly.
“I went over to his parents’ place to help him,” Jas said. “It’s exactly like he says. It’s totally weird. They’ve vanished into thin air, and no one’s noticed anything suspicious. Not at the time they went missing nor since.
“You’re the smartest person we know, Sayen. We were wondering if you could think of anything we or the police haven’t done yet to find out what’s happened to them. No creds have been taken out of their bank accounts since the last time they were seen. They lived in the same place all their lives, and everyone in the area knew them, but no one has any idea what could have happened.”
“It is very strange,” Sayen said. “Carl, I don’t want to scare you, but do you think that it might have something to do with the Shadows?”
“I do,” he replied. “We both do,” he added, glancing at Jas. “Though it doesn’t make a lot of sense. My parents haven’t been replaced. They’re just gone. And what would the Shadows want with them? They’re just farmers.”
Sayens expression was troubled. “It might not be your parents they want. It could be their land. The Shadows need places for their traps, places not too far from human habitations, but not so close that they’d be easily discovered.”
“Yeah, I had the same thought, to be honest. I flew all over the farm, but there’s nothing there.”
The word yet hung in the air, unspoken.
“When we arrived back on Earth,” said Jas, “we were given the same tests that we went through on Dawn. Dawn, which was invaded by Shadows. I told them there might be a Shadow on the ship, but they said the tests were foolproof. How could they be foolproof if a Shadow got onto Dawn?”
“Yeah. And if they got onto Dawn, maybe they’re here,” said Lingiari.
