Icarus Down

by James Bow

  Behind him, someone pounded on the door. “Sir! Come quick! Scouts report movement! There’s dozens of them!”

  The Captain’s jaw clenched. “Coming,” he shouted. He looked back at the camera, opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly. “Mark public,” he said. “Mark public all.”

  The screen went black.

  The screen stayed dark for a long moment before it flickered again. A new video appeared of the Captain’s quarters, but now Navigator Salk stared at the screen. The camera was tilted badly, and he appeared almost sideways. His arm was in a sling, and blood trickled down his face from a cut above his eye. Behind him, I heard shouts, clicks and the sound of gunfire.

  “I …” he said. “Um.”

  He struggled to get his breathing under control. “My name is Joshua Salk.”

  He turned sharply at the sound of a woman’s scream. Then he turned back to the camera and spoke quickly. “I’m just the navigator. But the Captain is dead … Tal is missing … I guess … I guess it’s me, who has to tell this.”

  His hands loomed up and straightened the camera. “If anybody from the colony finds this record, there are things you need to know. About why we’re here.” He took a deep breath. “We are on the wrong planet. I know this because I pushed the button that brought us here.”

  He took several breaths before continuing. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I was shot. It happened so fast. I wanted to show the Captain, I wanted him to see — but I never meant to —”

  He closed his eyes and composed himself before continuing. “Now that we’re here, given what’s out in the fog, you need to know what happened during the advance expedition.”

  “We got to the right planet,” he said, “the blue one, and we found a civilization there. Don’t ask me how we could have missed knowing it before, but there they were: a race of lizard-like people building their first cities.

  “We were devastated,” he went on. “To come all that way … But then things went wrong. CMO Tal initiated contact with the indigens, to try to buy a place to land. I told him it was against protocol, but he said that Earth law meant nothing now that we were twenty-five thousand light years away. Most of the advance force agreed with him. We met with the indigens’ leaders. We tried to talk … and then the indigens started getting sick.”

  Salk looked up at the camera with haunted eyes. “I’ve heard about what epidemics could do — what they did back on Mother Earth, but until you’ve seen it, you have no idea. Their civilization collapsed within a week. They turned on each other. They would have turned on us, except we were safe in orbit. And when it was done, there were less than a hundred left.”

  His jaw tightened. “That’s when CMO Tal decided to take the planet for our own.”

  Behind him there was a crash, more shouts, a few gunshots, and the sound of chittering.

  “We promised them help,” said Salk. “We gathered them together in one place, and then we boxed them. We put them on shuttles and sent them to the system’s other planet, the one we’re now on. Our reports indicated that life existed there, even though that planet was on the inner edge of the Goldilocks zone.

  “I protested,” Salk added. “But Tal had the support of the advance force. Even back on the ship, they watched me — I thought they might even kill me. Finally I got a secret meeting with the Captain. Even so, I was afraid Tal had enough support to mutiny if he had to. And I was right. Tal was going to take over the ship. He was going to get away with genocide. I had to —”

  He faltered. Then he looked up at the camera. “So, we’re here, on the bright planet, not the blue one. But there’s still hope if someone from the colonies gets this. The people need to know what we did. Maybe then we can make peace.”

  The shouts and clicks were closer now. Salk spoke quickly. “I’ve altered the security protocols. Automated the playback. I’ve downloaded the advance force’s logs, this video, everything. The proof is in the black box. If anybody from the pods finds this, tell everyone, please! Tell people what we did!”

  Behind him, the shouting stopped.

  Salk looked behind him. Shadows moved beyond the doorway. There were clicks and ticks and the sound of heavy footsteps getting closer.

  “They’re here,” he breathed. He looked back at the camera. “This will be the last transmission of the Icarus.” He closed his eyes. “I don’t blame them. I really don’t.”

  He sat there, his eyes closed, as the noises got closer. I found myself breathing in time with him, and counting our breaths. Four … Five …

  There was a click, startlingly close, like a bone breaking. I translated what Salk couldn’t. « There’s one in here! »

  “Icarus out,” said Salk.

  A flash of moving darkness. Then the screen went blank.

  * * *

  After the video stopped playing, I stared at the blank screen a long time, hardly breathing. I felt dizzy. Aaron had been right. Gabriel had been right. The Grounders’ suspicions had been right. This colony, the planet, our place here … it had all been a lie. We were on the wrong planet. Worse than that, we didn’t deserve to stand on the ground. Not on this planet nor the other one.

  But as I thought about this, another part of my mind spoke up. If I didn’t do something, this would stay a lie. Aaron died for nothing. Joshua Salk died for nothing. Rachel … Rachel died for nothing. Daniel Tal would get away with genocide, and Nathaniel Tal would get away with destroying Iapyx to protect that secret. I was the only one with the truth in my hands.

  Well, not in my hands, yet.

  I felt around the screen, and my fingers fumbled open a compartment full of grounded wires and outlets. I searched until I found it: the black box.

  I turned it over in my hands. It was like the white box on our ornithopters, only smaller and sleeker, and, of course, black. It could fit in my pocket. We weren’t able to make things as small as they used to, but the connection looked compatible.

  Light gleamed off glossy black embossed against the matte, showing the Seal of the Captain of the Icarus. I saw the letters in the circle (“Relinquamus vias veteres” — we leave the old ways behind) around an insignia of a man wearing wings of flame.

  I slipped the black box into my pocket and walked toward the airlock, my footfalls echoing across the broken display panels and the fallen chairs. I paused at the door and looked at the busted consoles. For a moment, I thought I heard the ghosts of voices from long ago.

  I wondered if I should do something, to show respect for the dead. Did they deserve respect? After all that had happened?

  Then I looked out the airlock door, and saw the mounds of dirt, stretching out from beside the airlock door, vanishing into the fog, each twice as long as they were wide.

  They’d buried them, I realized. After the Elder’s people had defeated the Icarus crew and killed everyone, they’d buried the dead, and someone had tended to the graves. They’d decided that the invaders deserved that much respect, at least.

  I faced the bridge.

  Yes. The crew of the Icarus deserved respect, as long as the truth came out. Navigator Salk had tried to get that truth out. The Captain had wanted to make restitution. If I helped, maybe as a people we’d find some measure of redemption.

  I saluted the empty bridge. Then I walked back into the fog, toward the centre of Eliza’s village.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  SIMON AND THE ELDER

  ELIZA:

  After leaving Simon behind, I followed the Elder through the village. She was tall, and at her normal speed I had to hurry to keep up. But she was not walking at her normal speed. She was stooped forward further than I had remembered. She walked with a limp.

  She stopped at the edge of the village. For many breaths, she did not look at me. She was rasping. There was a catch in her throat I did not like.

  « Elder? » I called.

  « Fierce one, » she replied. « Your mother would be pr
oud to see you. »

  I was always proud to hear the Elder say how proud she was of me, but this felt different. As if this was the last time she could.

  « Elder, » I began.

  « I am glad you can fend for yourself in the forest, » she cut in. « And take care of someone else as well. It makes me hope for your future. »

  The words were meant to be comforting. They made me afraid.

  « Elder, » I started again.

  « Why did you come back, Fierce One? » The Elder looked at me. « What did you hope I could tell you? »

  I had no idea. The anger that had driven me across chasms to the invaders’ hives had ebbed now that I had met Simon and seen how he reacted to the truth. Perhaps I did not need revenge to make things right.

  « Come with us, » I said. « Simon needs our help. There is a bad man who has hurt many people. We help Simon, he can help us. »

  She tilted her head at me. « What happened to your plan to make the invaders pay? »

  I sucked in my breath. « It … changed. »

  The Elder looked around at the shadows of the forest in the fog. « After living this long, I have found that rage only takes us out to deep water. It does not help us swim. And so, in many ways, it takes us too far. I am glad you have learned this before you drowned. »

  « Come with us, » I said again.

  The Elder chuckled, a rumble in her chest that was touched with regret. « I cannot. »

  « But — »

  The Elder began to cough, a high, chirrupy sound that made no words, only made me wince in pain. She bent over so far, I dropped my spear and grabbed her shoulder, though I had no hope of holding her up. Indeed, as she came forward, I feared I would be crushed. “Simon!”

  A second pair of hands grabbed the Elder. Simon grunted as she pitched into him. His feet slipped on the mud.

  The Elder was too heavy for both of us, but together we were strong enough to ease her fall to the ground. She lay a moment, then rolled onto her back, her breathing shallow.

  I knelt by her. Simon knelt across from me.

  « Elder? » I swallowed. « Elder! »

  She brought her breathing under control, and took one, slow, deep breath. « Fierce One. I cannot go with you. I am going nowhere in this world. »

  Her words were another punch in my chest. « Do not talk that way! You live! »

  « Not for much longer. »

  « No! »

  She reached out a fist, then uncurled a talon which she gently drew down my cheek. « You are a good child. You were raised right. You saw the invaders’ hives and you learned their language. There is much you can do if you only try, but you cannot stop time. »

  The horror of what she told me filled my mind. I looked at the days ahead, with no Elder watching over me. No one who understood me. « I do not want to be alone! »

  The Elder chittered softly. It was laughter. I frowned at her.

  « You are not alone, » she said. Her talon reached up, then tapped Simon on the chest. He looked from the Elder to me, bewildered.

  She took a deep breath and turned to Simon. « Did you find … what you were looking for? »

  He looked at her, then back at me, asking permission. I tipped my head, yes.

  He looked down at the Elder. « Yes. I did. »

  « You have questions, Strange Boy? » asked the Elder.

  Simon thought through his words carefully, then worked his mouth. « Ek-Taak-Tock-Tack … How here? »

  The Elder took another breath, then another. Finally she said, « There were … hatchlings. Seven. Three small, four much younger. Five males. Two female. »

  Simon thought about this. « Your people … raise them? »

  « We do not kill children, » the Elder replied.

  The words stayed in the air between us. The Elder’s people did not kill children. Simon’s people … did. Simon looked at the ground. I held my breath. The Elder’s breath rasped.

  Finally, Simon looked up and said, « I sorry. I make this right. »

  Another pause. The Elder asked, « How? »

  « I … » Simon licked his lips. « I not know. I try. »

  She started to say something, but another fierce coughing spell wracked her body.

  « Elder! » I grabbed her shoulders. I felt so powerless.

  The Elder got her breathing under control. She eased me aside and looked at Simon. « You want to make this right? »

  Simon nodded. The Elder stared at him. I leaned close. « He says yes. »

  « The truth, » she said to Simon. « Bring it back to your people. »

  Simon licked his lips. He looked pale, but he nodded. « Yes. »

  « The eggs, » she chittered. « The eggs are your responsibility. Protect them. »

  Simon nodded again. « Yes. Promise. »

  She took another shuddering breath. « Ek-Taak-Tock-Taak. »

  I leaned forward. « What, Elder? What? »

  But she was not talking to me. She was looking at Simon.

  « Yes? » he asked.

  « She … your responsibility … too. Take her home. »

  « What? » I snapped. « Elder? »

  She looked at me, but her eyes were looking through me. Like my mother’s had. I felt suddenly colder.

  « You are not alone, Fierce One, » she said. « Go to your people. »

  « Them? The invaders are not my people! »

  The Elder looked up at the sky. « They are all you have left. »

  Then she died.

  * * *

  SIMON:

  The Elder went still. The colour seemed to seep out of her. It took me a moment to realize what had happened. That realization hit at the same time as it hit Eliza.

  « Elder? » She touched the Elder, then shook her. « Elder! »

  The Elder didn’t move.

  « No! » she clicked. « No! » She grabbed the Elder and started sobbing. Her cries echoed across the empty buildings as the wind rattled the roofs.

  I sat there, numb from what I’d learned from the Icarus log, and numb from the responsibility placed on my shoulders. I couldn’t think of what to do. I stared at Eliza as she wept.

  And it struck me that she was now truly alone. Earlier, I’d imagined her as one girl alone in the fog forest, but the truth was she hadn’t been alone. She’d had the Elder back home, waiting for her. But no longer.

  I reached out and touched her shoulder. “Eliza …” I began.

  She flinched and shoved me back. « Do not touch me! »

  I quailed at her fury. “But—”

  « Do not talk to me! » She leapt to her feet, her hand swiping up her spear. I brought up a hand, as if that could hold her back, and for a second I thought she would run me through. Instead, she yelled at me in her click language.

  « Do not talk to me! You bring death! Death follows you! Death follows wherever you people go! »

  « Ek-Taak-Tock-Tack, » I pleaded.

  She turned away with a howl, and threw her spear at the air. It vanished into the fog. A second later, a rooftop rang from the impact.

  She stood a moment, breathing heavily. Finally, she swiped the air between us with an open hand. « Do not talk to me. » And she walked back into her village.

  The invaders are not my people, she’d said.

  I struggled to my feet and followed her, keeping my distance, as she strode back to the village square. Outside the Elder’s hut she fell to her knees, covered her face with her hands, and wept. I kept watch, making no sound.

  She stopped crying at last, and looked up at the sky.

  Finally she stood up and began looking through the huts and pulling out supplies. She sorted these into piles, keeping her eyes on her work, not looking at me.

  Not knowing what else to do, I leaned against one of the buildings and stared at the ground. I felt the Icarus’s black box in my pocket and I pulled it out. It gleamed in the foggy light, perfectly preserved after sixty-three years.

  The sa
me could not be said about my uniform. It was ruined after all the time we’d spent walking here: mud-stained and full of holes. Useless. And suddenly, I didn’t want to wear it anymore.

  We do not kill children.

  The invaders are not my people.

  I unzipped the tunic, yanked it off and threw it to the ground. I stared at it. Then the emotions that had been building in me poured out. Daniel Tal had reduced the Elder’s people to nothing. And to hide this, his son Nathaniel had haunted my life. So many people had died: Rachel, Aaron, Ethan, Isaac … Mom. Iapyx, all of Iapyx. It was a travesty.

  I pulled off my shoes and threw them as far as I could, yelling with each one. They bounced off a distant metal roof with satisfying clangs. My trousers followed. A wind rustled the burnt branches and rattled the twisted metal. It cooled my bare back.

  Eliza stopped what she was doing. She stared at me.

  Kicking the last piece of clothing off and stomping it into the ground, I stood up, feeling air all round me. I felt like I could finally breathe. For a long moment I did nothing but breathe.

  Then I walked to where Eliza waited and began sorting out supplies and putting them in bags, ready to carry. I slipped the Icarus’s black box into a pouch. I looked at her.

  She didn’t look angry anymore. I couldn’t tell quite how she looked, except serious. She stood up. I stood up with her, our gazes locked.

  “I know the truth,” I said. “I know what we must do.” Then I asked, « Will you come with me? »

  She looked at the empty huts, the ruined roofs. Then she looked at me, her gaze firm.

  « Yes. »

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  THE VOICE OF GRIEF

  ELIZA:

  Much as I wanted to, I could not leave right away. We had to prepare the Elder’s body.

  We moved the Elder to the edge of the swamp outside the village. I sent Simon to gather wood. He moved about, while I stood solemnly over her body, as I had seen others do for their dead. They said no words until the time was right. I wondered, though, if they thought about the whiles spent in friendship. I thought about that.