Alan shoves the man out of the way, sending him into to a group of others and knocking them off balance. Not knowing it was Alan who pushed the man, they all protest and get into a shouting match with each other. A few other partiers block his way with shouts of merriment. Like the first one, Alan tunes them out and shoves them out of his way. The only resistance they give is a few insults and complaints.
The piano player starts to play a faster tune, making everyone on the deck go crazy. They dance faster and shout louder at the band’s new tune. Alan turns around but doesn’t see Aja or Sahel anywhere.
“Stupid rad addict,” he says but even he can’t hear himself over the loud volume of music and people.
Something tugs on the back of his pants leg. He turns to see Sahel looking up at him. The little boy points ahead where Aja is standing with fist full of depleted power cells. She motions for him to follow her.
People stand several feet away from a gap separating the revelers from the other side where the door rests. Aja hands Alan a handful of the power cells and crouches down at a small floor hatch. She opens the little door, uncovering a keypad and a lever. She punches in a code and pulls the lever. If it weren’t for the noise, they would hear a metallic clunk just before two sides of a bridge, extend from either side of the gap. The bridge is only about three feet wide, creating a walkway over spinning cogs, wheels and flexible electrical wire insulation.
“Don’t fall in there,” Aja yells in Alan’s ear.
The two sections of bridge finally meet, locking in place. Aja grabs Sahel’s hand and guides him across. Alan turns back to see they aren’t being followed before joining her. Once on the other side, Alan walks to the door and drops the power cells.
“Be careful with those. Unstable, remember?” Aja falls to the floor, trying to scoop them up.
“They’re fine. Open the door,” Alan tells her as he telekinetically rips off the panel for the door controls.
She moves into the panel and starts rearranging the wires. Like all the others, before, once the wires are in their override positions she inputs a code into the keypad. “There,” she says.
Nothing happens.
“It didn’t work,.” Alan says.
She re-enters the code but just as before, the door doesn’t budge. “I don’t understand.”
“Why isn’t it opening?” Alan yells.
“I don’t know.”
“Are you doing it right?”
“My override is the same for all the doors. This should be working.” She tries one more time but the doors remain motionless.
Alan looks behind them at the passengers. None of them have any understanding of what the lower deckers have gone through. He looks, again, at the door. He’s come too far now. He thrusts out both of his hands at the door, drowning out everything behind them and focusing solely on the door. Aja watches Alan and reaches down into the wall panel to pull out the depleted power cell. She places the cell over her eyes and gives into the radiation. Only Sahel witnesses as Alan’s nose starts to bleed.
The doors do not budge. “They’re too big. I can’t…” Alan drops to his knees, his entire body begins to shake but he continues to try until he finally falls on his hands. He watches his own blood drop to the floor beneath him. “I’m sorry,” he says.
“Alan?” a small voice says in his ear.
Alan turns to see Sahel standing beside him. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
They both look at Aja who leans against the wall seeing whatever it is she sees from the radiation.
“What do we do?” Sahel asks.
“I don’t know.” Alan lets his head hang. “I don’t know anymore.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“We’re gonna take us a little break. But all of you stay put. This is the place to be,” the band singer says. Alan looks over his shoulder at the revelers. The absence of the music makes it a little less noisy but the hard partiers continue to laugh and yell. None of it is intelligible. It’s Just a sea of voices and noise.
“Was this even worth it?” Alan asks. He doesn’t expect Sahel to answer. The boy is really too young to understand why they fought all this way. He’s never seen the lower deck.
“Of course it was,” Aja says, waving her arms in the air as though shooing a fly. “As Jada said, this is the place to be.”
Alan points at the door. “In there is the place to be. It’s one more door. The last obstacle and we can…I can make this all right.”
“I know how to make it right,” Aja says.
“You haven’t had to live through it. I’ve seen people’s kids taken from them. Do you know what that’s like? I don’t expect you to understand,” Alan says.
“You think I have no sympathy?” Aja kneels down in front of Alan. She puts her arms around Sahel. “You think being placed in stasis with my son in another chamber is any different than having him taken away from me?”
Alan tilts his head to the floor.
“Do you know why they kept us in stasis?”
“Takeda said you were trouble makers.”
“I questioned Hallet’s decisions, once. One time. And that was enough for him to lock me and my boy away. Our only use to him was as human keys. Something to pull out of his pocket should the need arise. Just things. Do you know what that is like? Perhaps it is you who has no sympathy.”
Alan chuckles at her words. He swings his legs out from under him and brings his knees up to his chest. “Just things. I do know what that’s like.” He laughs again, looking back down at the moving cogs and wheels below the walkway behind him. “Do you know what an abhorrent is?”
“Jada called them—”
“No. They’re not creatures. Hallet is old. He’s dying. That’s why he takes the kids. Their genes…But if he can…Get a new body, then he can keep ruling over everyone. No changes. No new votes. Just Hallet’s law.”
“That body will die, too,” Sahel says.
“Then he’ll get another one. And another. It won’t stop.”
“How is that possible?” Aja asks.
Alan looks back over his shoulder, at the revelers. Some of them return his stare. Alan faces Aja. “The plan was to make a clone with Hallet’s genes. A nearly identical copy. But something went wrong. Something got added into the sequence. No one knows how it happened or how to get rid of it.”
“So he has no copies?”
“He has them. So few of them make it through, though.” Alan’s eyes start to tear up. “I’ve lost so many, I guess, brothers. And the lower deckers…The only ones left are the ones still down there—the smart ones. Smart for not following me.”
“What happened to your brothers?” Aja asks.
“The abhorrent ones, Hallet jettisoned. The others are still in the artificial wombs.”
“What makes the abhorrents different from the others?”
Alan reaches into this pocket and pulls out a bolt. He holds it up in his palm, making the bolt float several inches in the air. He moves his hand back and forth, keeping the metal piece moving with it. We’re born…created with an accidentally activated gene that allows for this.”
Aja watches the floating bolt but a few revelers standing, staring at them from the other side of the walkway, grabs her attention. She pushes the bolt down, back into Alan’s hand. “Don’t turn around,” she says “Why you? Why has Hallet let you live?”
“Everyone already follows his law. If he could do what I can, they’d fall at his feet. No one would ever question him again. The others were never as strong as me. They showed hints of this. But not enough to make them worth his time.”
“Hallet jettisoned children?” Aja’s hand goes over her mouth while pulling Sahel closer to her. “I did not know.”
“Children?” Alan shakes his head. “None of them made it to two years old.” He wrings his hands, cracking his knuckles. “I’ve tried so many times to kill him. I got close twice. But both of those, I cou
ldn’t. I couldn’t move against him. It was like…”
“You would be killing yourself,” Aja says. Alan stops wringing his hands, the realization sinking in.
“That’s why you needed an army. So if you couldn’t do it, someone else could.”
“It would have been Danny, I’m sure. He really wanted to get out of there. If he could just see all of this.”
“Better if he could see what’s out there.” Aja points to the wall.
Alan follows her finger. “In space? There’s nothing there but cold and death.”
“Not space. Earth.”
“Are we going to our real home, Mata?” Sahel asks.
“We’re going to try, my son.”
“All those power cells.” Alan smiles sarcastically. “Those rads must have fried your brain. There is no Earth to go to.”
“Did you not see? Through the windows. It is right there.”
“The planet died a long time ago. You wouldn’t even make it to the surface. The air is toxic. The water is poison. There is no life there. None could survive.”
“You’re wrong. There is life. There is green—”
“It’s just a desert.”
“No. I saw it. Just before we were placed in stasis. I saw the green from this high up. And before your friend died, I saw it again. Only bigger. There was more green. Don’t you understand? If we could land the ship on Earth, we could make our own laws. Govern ourselves without Hallet.”
Alan only shakes his head. “Even if that’s true, we can’t get into the bridge. So how would we land the ship?”
Aja holds up one of the power cells. “These are highly unstable. If one were to blow up with the others, the explosion could be big enough to knock the ship out of its orbit. The Grand Marshall would fall back to Earth on its own.” She points at the gap. “Down there is the section of ship that keeps it aligned with the planet’s orbit. We need only throw one or more of these into it.”
Alan grabs the depleted power cell and looks it over. How could something so small have that much—A loud clunking sound grabs his attention.
Aja turns around to see the door to the bridge crack open. She faces Alan, again only to see him slowly stand. Her attention is grabbed by movement from behind him. Some of the revelers line up at the walkway. Their expressions have gone from gleeful to almost crazed as some of them mouth the word, ‘abhorrent’. “Alan?” She asks.
Alan barely hears her, all of his focus on the door as he slowly steps toward it.
“Alan?” She watches him open the door, completely. The opening reveals a short flight of steps that lead up onto the bridge of the ship. She turns to Sahel who watches as one of the revelers begins making his way across the gap. “Sahel. Behind me. Hold on and forgive my actions.” She picks up one of the fallen power cells and throws it below the walk way. Before it disappears from site, she spins down and wraps her arms around her son, hoping to shield him from the coming explosion.
Some of the revelers rush backwards to escape the blast.
To everyone’s surprise, nothing happens.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The bridge looks vastly different than any other deck of the Grand Marshal. It is an open space with floor to ceiling windows arching around the front. It provides a full view of not only the empty void of space but also of Earth on one side and the sun, far I the distance, on the other. Alan steps up the short yellow and blue lit staircase leading to the bridge deck. He looks back and sees the revelers re-gathering themselves. As he steps higher, they begin to disappear. The last person Alan sees is Sahel, visibly shaken by everything. But even he disappears from sight as Alan finally sets foot on the floor of the bridge.
“Good morning,” Hallet says, his eyes in a book. “I do miss new volumes of work. You know I’ve read this book twelve times, now. It’s my favorite from my collection. I should have taken more with me. I guess I figured five would be enough.” He places a strip of cloth between the pages and sets the book down on a side table.
Alan keeps all of his focus on the captain.
Hallet stands from his chair. The tan cushions are well worn with a few small tears and the armrests are dirty and frayed in the front from years of easing in and out of the seat. He looks at Alan. “Who did that?” He asks, pointing at his eye.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me. I’m going to need both of those.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” Alan tells him, his defiant streak showing.
Hallet nods his head, knowing he won’t get an answer. ”Fine. I’ll just have to live with it. At least I’ll have the memory of all this.” He spreads his arms out, presenting the view. “You know, I see this view, all day, every day and it still amazes me. You’ve seen it, what? Two? Three times, maybe? Yet here you stand, unimpressed.”
Hallet walks to a short refrigeration unit. He opens the door and pulls out two glass bottles of water.
“You really should take time for the little things.”
He tosses a bottle to Alan who makes no move to catch it as the bottle sails over his shoulder, crashing to the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Hallet shakes his head and exhales. “You know there’s a shortage of those—Ah, little things. Some should be enjoyed. Others shouldn’t be given any weight.”
“You talking about the bottle or the water?” Alan asks.
“The bottle, of course. There’s plenty of water on the ship.”
Alan clenches his fist. “That’s why there are people swimming in it all day while the lower deck has it rationed out?”
“This again.” Hallet grabs another bottle. There seems to be plenty of them. He walks this one to Alan, holding it out. Alan’s clenched fist is obvious. “You plan on using that, this time?” Hallet nods to the fist.
Alan relaxes his hand and reaches out for the water. He unscrews the cap and takes a sip. A sip turns into a gulp which turns into him guzzling the whole thing down, water streaming out the sides of his mouth and down to the floor.
“See? The little things. It’s good isn’t it?”
“Why does it taste so different?”
“Triple filtration. Any and all impurities are filtered out. That is the cleanest source of water on this ship. Second only to a natural spring creek on Earth…Well, back then.” Hallet takes a sip. “Though if you ask me, this water is probably cleaner than even that. Can you imagine? Drinking water after animals have urinated in it? One of my books actually has people bathing in rivers and creeks. The plant life and sediment is supposed to filter out impurities but you wouldn’t catch me drinking from a water source like that.”
Alan only glares at the remark, remembering the water tanks below.
Hallet walks back to his chair and sits on one of the arm rests. “You have to tell me how you do it.”
“What?”
“The prison.” Hallet takes another sip. “How you keep getting out of it.”
Alan steps further onto the bridge, looking out at the sun. “The same way I always have.”
“So you don’t need to see the object you…” Hallet places a finger to his head then points it forward.
Alan shakes his head.
“That will come in handy if the need arises.”
“You say that like it’s not part of your plan.”
Hallet ignores the comment and walks to Alan to stand next to him, looking out at the sun. “You’ll learn to love the view.”
Alan turns to him and glares.
Hallet meets his gaze. “Try to be excited about it. Think of where you’ve come from. Then think of where you’re going. After all. This is the place to be.”
“I have thought of where I’ve come from. I’ve thought about it every day. Now that I’m here, things are going to change. You’re going to—”
“Grow up,” Hallet says. The interruption surprises Alan. “Take a re-vote? Give you control of the ship? For what? No matter where you go, y
ou’re still on the Grand Marshall. Be grateful for that because it sure beats being down there.” Hallet points to the Earth, raising his voice. “You wouldn’t last one second on that dead planet.”
Alan let’s the words sink in. He knows that Hallet is right. Even cramped in the lower deck, at least he’s still alive.
“I’m sorry for raising my voice,” Hallet starts. “I’m not terribly used to conversation anymore. I spend, nearly every waking moment, alone. I know that you think being captain means I have all of my needs met. But there’s more to life than eating and breathing. I have five books and I’ve read them all. Sure the view is spectacular but there are days when it grows stale. Down below, you, at least, have people you can turn to. Ideas you can share. Stories you can tell. We’re the same, Alan. Both inside and out. The only difference is our surroundings. You in your population. I in my solitude.”
“It’s not the same, at all. You can’t compare the lower deck with anything above it. Anyone from the lower deck would trade places with you in a second.”
Hallet taps a button on the floor with his foot. “It’s lucky, then, that it’s you who gets to do that very thing.” A control console rises from the floor. On it is a screen and two levers. “I was going to wait but now that more of the ship’s population has been reduced, thanks to your small uprising, I think that now is a good time. It’s just age. I’m tired of being tired. Children’s genes don’t assimilate for very long. That was always a bandage, anyway.” He pushes up both levers, opening two circular holes in the bridge floor. From the openings rise two chairs. Both of them have some kind of horizontal ring where a person might put their head. A cable runs from the back of one chair to the floor.
“What are those?” Alan asks.
“These are, I believe it was Takeda who said, ‘your destiny’.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
One by one, revelers cross the walkway above the moving cogs. Aja keeps them all from crossing over. She swings the axe, wildly. The strikes don’t just drop her new assailants, they knock them into the moving parts. The wheels and cogs of the ship’s engines make quick work of those that do fall in. It’s a grisly site.
The Final Revolution Page 7
