A History of What Comes Next

by Sylvain Neuvel

  —I told you I didn’t—

  —Just tell me you won’t kill her, Leonard.

  —I won’t. I swear.

  —Good. I would hate to have to hurt you, my brother.

  —Charles?

  —Yes.

  —What then?

  —You mean after we find the device? We call home.

  —Then what?

  —Then they come, if it’s not too late. Our people have a home.

  —What happens to us?

  —There is no us. Us was one man three thousand years before we were born and he got beat by a girl. You and I are cheap copies of something that wasn’t that great to begin with. You do what you want, Brother. I’ll buy myself a boat, drink plenty of wine, and wait to die, like we should have a long time ago.

  55

  Come On, Let’s Go

  Mia did it. It took thirteen years, lots of eviscerated American pride, and a dead dog flying over our heads, but mankind is heading to space. Von Braun launched Explorer I as promised using the Redstone rocket he built for the army. The air force built the Atlas, the Titan, and the Thor. Those rockets have become more than weapons, much more. Eisenhower passed the National Aeronautics and Space Act in September and handed control over all nonmilitary activity in space to a new agency. Science for science’s sake. One of the first missions they approved is to orbit a manned spacecraft around Earth. Von Braun thinks he can do it first. Good for him. I know Korolev is pursuing the same goal. Whoever wins, I will get my wish. I will see a man in space before …

  —You should hurry, Mia. It is almost noon.

  —Noon? JPL is twenty minutes away!

  —I know, but you don’t want to be late for your interview.

  —Fine, Mother. I’m going. I’m going.

  —You never told me what the job was, by the way.

  —The ad was for a computer.

  —Mathematics, really?

  —They have these giant IBM machines that can do thousands of calculations per second, but no one trusts them. They want human computers to double-check everything. I’m supposed to perform trajectory computations for rocket launches by hand. It’s a far cry from the work I was doing with Korolev, but there’s a certain purity in numbers you don’t get with a clunky engine. Oh, and no degree required.

  —You can have all the degrees you want, Mia.

  —I gave myself two, but I think that just means women can apply. It’s peacetime, Mother. They won’t give someone like me an engineering job, even with the ridiculous résumé I gave myself. It’s okay. I like math.

  She can do the work. I am more worried about a tap on the shoulder from von Braun. I can picture his face. Lili? What are you doing here? I suppose she can call in sick whenever he visits. He works in Alabama, so that should not be too often.

  —Do you know what you’ll be working on?

  —They didn’t tell me. I think I might work on the Ranger program. I could help send something to the moon. Wouldn’t that be great?

  —Do you think you can beat the Soviets to it?

  —Not a chance. They came this close to the moon in January already and they have another launch in September. They’ll get there long before the Americans, but I need to work on something and we don’t know anyone at NASA to start something new.

  —Not yet, but we will. I only meant you should not waste your skills on something others are doing already.

  —I like math, Mother. To be honest, I’m just happy to get out of the house. What about you? What are you going to do?

  —I have my research. They just drilled a new three-hundred-meter ice core in Antarctica. There will be lots of data to look at.

  —Who did? Your Danish guy?

  —No, the US Army.

  —You don’t even know these people, Mother. There is zero data for you to look at. What are you not telling me?

  I cannot bring myself to say it. It is not her judgment I dread, it is for her that I wish for a new life. I fear the verdict of the dead, a jury of ninety-eight of my peers. What would my sentence be if my mother were alive? What would she have done if I had fallen to near death? I thought my daughter was gone. I thought I had lost her and it nearly killed me. I will not go through that pain again.

  Take them to the stars.… We have taken them this far. We have done our part. They can take themselves the rest of the way.

  56

  Wonderful World

  1960

  —You don’t need my permission to do anything, Mia. I just want you to think it through before you come to a decision.

  —Mother, I know! At some point, we’ll need to make calculations even I can’t do. I really have a knack for programming these things, Mother!

  —They are making computers better and better already. I am only asking if this is the best use of your time.

  —They’re also making them bigger and bigger. The air force has a new guidance computer for the Titan. Do you want to know how big it is?

  —I assume it is very large.

  I know nothing of computers. I really want to put an end to this conversation. I feel a hundred years old at the moment.

  —It takes about three hundred square feet of floor space. The whole thing weighs twenty-one thousand pounds.

  That is heavy, for anything. Mia has a point. We are in the infant stages of space exploration, but someday, when people leave Earth’s orbit, they will need to determine a ship’s position, calculate trajectories, et cetera, et cetera. They will need machines that can perform these calculations in an instant, and preferably not the size of a small apartment.

  —I trust you, Mia. I was only asking.

  I know I am looking for ways to justify myself, but if this “programming” proves useful to space exploration, then we are not truly abandoning our past if we make a new life for ourselves. Mia working on computers would also serve my personal interests, if I decide to pursue my research. Information is coming faster and faster, from everywhere. Telescopes are more powerful than ever. We have even observed greenhouse effects on Venus, raising the atmospheric temperature above the boiling point of water. In Russia, Mikhail Budyko proposed a physical model of Earth’s heat input and output. Groundbreaking work. He helped turn climatology from educated guesswork to quantitative science. His work will pave the way for complex, increasingly accurate models of Earth’s atmosphere, but we will not get there with the machines we have today. Computing power is the cornerstone of this war, and if Mia wants to help speed up the process, who am I to stand in her way?

  I think I know how we could find out how much of Earth’s CO2 comes from burning fossil fuel. I just need—

  —Mother! You seem so … distant.

  —I am sorry, Mia. I was … absorbed in somewhat self-congratulatory thought.

  —No rule against being happy. Are you? Happy?

  —I am … working on it. There are moments when I …

  —Mother?

  —There is a man standing outside.

  —What do you mean, standing?

  —He is staring at our house.

  —Let me see.… It’s him, Mother! That’s the man who tried to kill me.

  —Run, Mia. Run.

  57

  Will You Love Me Tomorrow

  Where am I? This is our kitchen. I …

  We ran out the back door. I was hit in the face with … There was another man, the same man. I believe Mia made it out.

  Pain. What did he do—

  —You’re a hard one to catch, Sarah.

  Here he is, sitting in front of me on another kitchen chair. I have never met him but I know who he is. All my life, I have been taught to fear this man.

  My hand hurts. Throbbing pain. I can’t … move. My legs are tied to the chair. My hands are roped behind my back.

  —What did you do to me?

  —Oh, that. I cut your little finger off while you were out. You don’t mind, do you? I thought I’d save you some pain for the first one.

 
Did he? He must have. I can’t feel it at all. Just pain. Blood should be gushing out but it is not. He must have cauterized it somehow. Whatever this is, he wants it to last.

  —What is it you want?

  —What do I want? Oh, you’re funny, Sarah. Is that even your real name? Maybe I should have said— What was it you used to call yourselves again? The Kibsu? Do you still do that?

  A genuine smile. He seems … happy. So much so he can barely contain himself. Too many things running through his head. Kill me. Talk to me. Torture me.

  —This is a mistake. I am not who you think I am. Now please, sir, just untie me.

  —More humor. I love that. I’ll never understand why you held on to that Babylonian crap. Sounds so … melodramatic. I mean, do you say it with a deep, deep voice? WE. ARE. THE KIBSUUU!… No? Never mind. I’m sorry, that was rude. I apologize. I don’t know you. I shouldn’t make fun. If you’re the Kibsu, what does that make me?

  Blood rushing to every organ. I can feel my heartbeat in my neck. Three thousand years of instinct kicking in.

  —Like I said, I—

  —Stop wasting my time, Sarah, or I’ll cut your whole fucking hand off.

  Fear the Tracker. Always run, never fight. I’ve said the words so many times. But I can’t run. I need to get my legs free.

  —We call you the Tracker.

  If I can get him to lean closer, I can knee the table through his windpipe.

  —Like a hunter?

  —Like a dog.

  —Oh, that was uncalled for. You should really stop struggling, Sarah. You’re not getting out of these ropes.

  He is right. I am not going anywhere.… So this is how I die. Cut to pieces by the devil himself. It does not matter. Mia is safe. We will endure.

  —Why not kill me now and get it over with?

  —Kill you? What makes you think I want to kill you? Is it the finger? I would have cut your head off if I wanted to kill you. It’s not the finger, is it? It’s because of the Tracker thing? Am I the bad guy? The monster in your bedtime stories? I am. That stings. You really need new stories, Sarah. I’m not what you think I am.… We are … very much alike, you and I.

  —I am nothing like you.

  —Are you sure? I mean do you even know what you are? You have to know you’re not one of them. Right? Yes, you do. Do you think you’re different from me, too? Well, you’re not. This isn’t a zoo, honey. There aren’t fifty kinds of animals. There’s them, and there’s us. I don’t know why you would pretend otherwise. Frankly, I find it kind of insulting.

  —You’re a killer.

  —Sure I am. So are you. Do you know how we find you? Every time. It’s always the same. We look for the dead. Mass killings, unexplained deaths. Two dead guards and a nurse in Moscow. Was that you or did your daughter do that? I thought she was dead, by the way, before she ran past me. Good for her. Anyway, it doesn’t matter which of you did it. You’re a mass murderer, Sarah. You leave bodies behind like breadcrumbs. Don’t take this the wrong way. I don’t care. They’re cockroaches, all of them. But don’t pretend you and I are different.

  —Why are you chasing us?

  —No. No. No. That’s not how this works. I ask the questions. And every time I’m not satisfied with your answer, I take a piece of you. A souvenir, you understand?

  —What do you want to know?

  —So many things, I don’t even know where to start! Do you remember me?

  —What?

  I do not understand. He knows we have never met.

  —I’ll take that as a no. I’m sorry, that was a stupid question. Of course you don’t remember me. It’s just … I thought it might be different with you. I’m born … I’m a male—you can see that, obviously. What I mean is I need … someone, to be born. I come out of a woman. One of them. It’s disgusting, but necessary. You … There’s only you.

  If he wants to kill me, he can do it whenever he wants. Why waste time talking to me? He seems genuinely curious. He does not know.

  —…

  —Oh, forget it. I thought you might remember things, that’s all. Things from before. But you don’t. Moving on. Where did you hide the device?

  —What device?

  I should not talk, but this I need to know. We have always assumed they were chasing us for sport. I thought they were just evil. I am certain they are, but if there is a deeper motivation behind it, I must find out what it is. I need to know what we keep dying for.

  —Really? Oh, don’t tell me you have a stupid ancient name for it. The wimbo, the kuplah, the amagonnagivittoya. Just tell me where you hid it and I will let you go. I swear. We’ll leave you alone and never bother you again if that’s what you want.

  —…

  —I guess not. Now you can’t say I didn’t warn you. I thought I explained the rules fairly well. What will it be? Another finger? Nah. We did that already. Maybe a toe.… I know. Let’s take off one of your ears.

  He’s up. He’s looking through the kitchen drawers.

  —I swear to you. I do not know what that device is.

  —I guess we’ll know soon enough. Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Charles. I believe … this will do just fine.

  A bread knife. He’s coming closer. I can’t move! No! No!

  —AAAAAAAGGGHHH!!!!

  Throbbing pain. I feel the warmth on my cheek, my neck. This sick bastard is taking pleasure in this. No, we are not alike. We made a choice to be different. Our choice.

  —There. It’s over. You have nice ears.… I may be naive, but I think you really have no idea what I’m talking about. I’ll be damned. The universe has some sick sense of humor if that’s true. For your sake, Sarah, I hope you’re lying to me. I really do. Because if you don’t know … All of this for nothing?

  I’ll take real pleasure in watching you die, Sarah. I’ll make whirligigs with your bones. I’ll skin you alive and have your daughter wear you as a coat. You like ancient customs? I’ll give you the tub. I’ll have you stand in a vat up to your neck in water, then I’ll pour milk and honey on your face. The flies will come first, then the maggots. In a day or two, you’ll be swimming in your own shit and piss. I’ll feed you, of course. I’ll feed you over and over so you can shit some more and watch yourself rot. I’ll make it last for months.

  My head is spinning but I need to be strong. Every minute he spends with me is one he is not hunting Mia. I can keep her safe if I stay strong.

  —You can torture me all you want. I will live on.

  —How? Do you think you’re a god or something? Oh, your daughter! You think she’s safe? I have some bad news for you, dear, she’s not. My brother has her by now. If you don’t give me what I want, trust me, she will. When we’re done cutting things off, we’ll let you see each other. I’ll remove your eyelids and have you stare at one another while we take your whole faces off.

  He is lying, trying to confuse me. There were two of them but his brother was in the front yard. Mia is smart. She is fast.

  —Is that why you have been hunting us? To get to that … device?

  —Hunting you? You’re the one running. We’re chasing you because you’re a fucking traitor!

  —I have betrayed no one. You have murdered hundreds.

  —YOU LET YOUR OWN FUCKING KIND DIE! Billions of people! Don’t you dare compare yourself to me.

  —My kind? What are you talking about?

  —You don’t know anything, do you? How the hell do you even stay alive? We—the two of us—we came together to this place. We came to find a new home before ours ends in a fiery hell. Only you chose to fuck it up and hide the one thing we need to call home.

  Is that how it happened? Is that the choice we made? I see no reason for him to lie, but I have no reason to believe him either.

  —I think you take pleasure in hunting us. I think you do it for the thrill. Is there some sort of prize for killing one of us?

  —You think I’m doing this for a reward? Do you know wha
t our people will make of us when they get here? Weird versions of each other, all of us born to a lesser species. They’ll think we’re an abomination. They’ll put us down like stray dogs. That’s my reward. I get to die. I get to leave this … sty. It’s the stench. I have to be born in that smell over and over again, to have one of them as a mother and fff—I get nauseous just thinking about it—and feed off her stinking breasts. It wasn’t supposed to be like that, you know. We were supposed to mate together, not with them.

  —You disgust me.

  —I didn’t mean you and me me. You’re older than my mother. I meant—you know perfectly well what I meant. Aren’t you tired of being someone else? I am. I want to be me, not my father and his father. I want this to end but I need that device first so you’re going to give it to me before I cut you into a thousand pieces.

  —…

  —Why are you smiling? Did you hear what I just said? I’m going to slice you up like a ham. What the hell are you smiling at, you crazy witch?

  58

  Walk—Don’t Run

  Run from the Tracker. Keep running. Don’t look back.

  Over the fence. Through the alley. My legs are heavy as dumbbells, my lungs are burning. I’m getting a headache. That’s my body running out of fuel, but I need to keep going. Run. Survive at all costs. Remember the rules. That’s what Mother would want.

  I wonder if she’s still alive. She’s all alone if she is. He’ll kill her for sure, but she would want me to run. No second thoughts, no regrets. I understand. If my daughter were alive, I would want her to live. Run. Never stop.

  I wouldn’t want my life, and my mother’s life, to mean nothing. I wouldn’t want my daughter to be the end of us, for all the knowledge to be lost on a whim. I wouldn’t be afraid of dying, because I know I would live on through her. We are the Kibsu. I am the mother, the daughter. I am many, and so would my daughter be. I wouldn’t want her to be selfish.…

  I wouldn’t want her to think of the lives she’d taken. Throats slit, hearts stabbed. Bodies convulsing on the floor. I would not want her to see Didi’s face and wonder if the wrong person died that night. I wouldn’t want her to doubt. To slow down. To catch her breath.