A Crack in the Sky

by Mark Peter Hughes

  He gazed down again at the child in the bed, only this time there was something about the face that caught his attention. It was something familiar about the shape of the ears and the way the nose slanted at the top. Eli realized he’d been wrong. The shriveled, ghoulish creature barely clinging to life below him wasn’t a child after all.

  “Grandfather?” he whispered. “Is that you?”

  The old man stirred. When he spoke, his voice was weak and raspy. “Eli? My fat lamb …” Then his body convulsed in a series of sharp, rumbly coughs. With each one the walls shuddered.

  “I’m here,” he said. Even across the CloudNet, Eli felt a lump in his throat.

  The robots looked up, but only for a moment. They seemed far more interested in Grandfather’s coughing fit than in Eli’s presence. After a quick glance at the sphere, their blue faces swiveled back to the patient. One of them adjusted a knob on a nearby machine and the coughing subsided.

  “How on earth have you come to me here, child?” he murmured, his eyes still closed. Before Eli could respond, though, a faint smile seemed to form on his lips, and he answered his own question. “Oh … the mongoose, of course. They didn’t think to look for her until it was too late, did they? And they never found her.” His eyes opened just a crack. “Oh, he’s a brilliant man, my friend. A genius if ever there was one.”

  For an instant Eli thought he saw a mischievous look flash across his face. Grandfather must be delirious, he thought. He was also smaller and frailer than Eli ever would have imagined. “What happened to you, Grandfather? Are you going to be all right?”

  Almost undetectably he shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Medical technology can do only so much. It seems the particulates have finally gotten the better of my lungs. Still, I’ve been lucky to fend off the inevitable as long as I have. Raise me.”

  These last words he directed to the nearer of the two robots. The back of the bed lifted until he was in a sitting position and looking into the sphere. It broke Eli’s heart to see him so withered and feeble.

  “I’m glad you’re here, child. Now that I see you, I realize I’ve been holding on because I was waiting for this moment. I somehow knew you’d find a way to me.”

  It was an odd thing to say, but Eli supposed his mind could have been failing him along with his body. He remembered that Grandfather had been sick the entire time since he was kidnapped from home. He wondered if he’d even known that Eli was gone. But it didn’t matter. Eli had come here for assistance and he was determined to ask for it.

  “Oh, Grandfather,” he began, his voice already shaking, “I’m in terrible trouble and I need your help.” At last the whole story came tumbling out: how he was trapped in a reeducation tower run by Spider and the Department of Loyalty, how Spider was secretly using company employees as slave labor, how Mother and Father had been accused of working with the Foggers against the company, and how Eli himself had also been accused. The next part was especially difficult for him.

  “The thing is, I really did have contact with Foggers. I know I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry, except it wasn’t my fault, at least not at first. But then they told me things, things I didn’t want to believe but couldn’t help thinking about. Stuff about the Outsiders, and the temperature of the planet, and the end of civilization. They told me that the weird stuff happening with the domes—all the explosions, the system problems, the sky glitches—isn’t because of Fogger sabotage, like InfiniCorp says. They said it’s because the domes were never designed to withstand weather as extreme as we’re getting now, so they’re starting to fail.” Eli was taking it slowly now, trying to gauge Grandfather’s reaction. “They said it’s only going to get worse and that our family knows it, and that’s why the company is blaming the Foggers—as a way to hide the truth.”

  He waited for a response, but the old man didn’t say anything for a long time. He gave a wheezy sigh. “I always knew this day would come.”

  Eli’s stomach tightened. Until that moment he’d been holding out hope. “So, it’s true,” he said. “About InfiniCorp and the Final Days. All of it. You’ve known what was happening all along.”

  Grandfather stayed quiet, but the truth was plain in his eyes.

  All the pent-up frustration of the past few months rose in Eli’s chest. As small and helpless as Grandfather looked, and as much as Eli still loved him (he couldn’t help it, even now), he was so furious at him, he could barely speak. When he tried, the words caught in his throat. “How could you let this happen?”

  “None of us realized,” Grandfather answered, his voice heavy with regret. “And by the time we did, it was already too late.”

  “Why didn’t you let anyone know?”

  “What good would that have done? Beyond a certain point, there was no way to change the direction of things. Besides, it’s been years since I had any real authority in the company. I’ve been a mere figurehead for your uncle Hector and, more recently, your cousin Spider. The change in position wasn’t my choice. Hector and Spider have kept me around this long only because it suits their needs.”

  It took a moment for this to sink in. Grandfather wasn’t in charge?

  “Understand,” continued the old man, “I’m not trying to absolve myself of responsibility. I was in charge for decades. But all this history is like sand swept behind us long ago in the desert wind. It’s all in the past now and can’t be changed. Life as we’ve known it is all but over. There’s nothing anybody can do about it. The only remaining question is, what do we choose to do with the limited time we have left? Take desperate action in the face of unimaginable dread and discomfort just to cling to the slim, irrational hope of surviving? Or admit defeat and live out the rest of our days in relative ease? This is what the company’s leaders have always believed InfiniCorp offers: Contentment. Peace of mind. A way to keep living a simulation of our old, carefree lives as long as possible without regret for the past or trepidation about the future.”

  “So we shouldn’t care that we’re using some of our own people as slaves so others can live well? Or that the CloudNet is turning everyone into mindless zombies with no idea what’s happening around them?”

  Grandfather’s expression didn’t change. “As the company sees it, the CloudNet serves a vital purpose. Imagine, for example, if the spheres in a single reeducation facility were to shut down and the Waywards were all to awaken from their dreams. A setback like that could put the whole operation at risk. With the Outside world falling apart, InfiniCorp sees enforced ignorance as a form of compassion. It believes it’s providing a service of mercy.”

  “Is that what you believe?”

  There was a long pause as the living walls of the lung room expanded and contracted. “I did,” Grandfather answered at last. “For a long time I did. Eli, I’m not a perfect man. I’ve always carried secrets. I’ve had to. After nearly losing everything to the Great Sickness, my reaction was to safeguard what I thought was the only real asset humanity still had—and that was the company. It wasn’t purely selfish, and I never meant to leave people helpless. I simply felt InfiniCorp had the means to protect the employees from despair, at least for a while. I tried to do the best I could for everyone.”

  Even as Eli gazed down at his grandfather—suddenly so disappointing and pathetic to him—back in the Special Training room, his fists were clenched. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

  “For obvious reasons, InfiniCorp’s top leaders share these secrets with very few. Even among our family, only a handful know the true purpose of the company. But I always planned to tell you, Eli. I was waiting until after you started in the Program. Perhaps this was another mistake, one of many I’ve made over my long career.”

  Eli wasn’t buying any of it. The more he listened to what Grandfather said, the more betrayed he felt. “What about the Wild Orange Yonder? Is there any truth to that?”

  “Believe me, we’ve looked everywhere. We searched the wasteland but came up with nothing. You ha
ve to understand, the company was grasping at straws for any chance for survival. In the end I’m afraid InfiniCorp came to the conclusion there’s no such place.”

  “And Dr. Friedmann? What’s the truth about him?”

  “Ah, Gustavo …” For the first time a smile truly formed on his shriveled lips. “One of the most remarkable people I ever knew. A great engineer, a voracious reader. He was a man of many varied interests. Literature, history, genetics, neuroscience … He was fascinated by dreams and the study of the unconscious mind. He was the one who invented the brain systems that eventually became the control centers of the CloudNet. We were inseparable as children, you know. The very closest of friends for many years. He was always something of a troublemaker. Not so unlike you, Eli, in your way.” Grandfather eyed him with obvious affection. “Even as very young men we were both ambitious. We shared a philosophy that people who follow the rules rarely make the history books.”

  He looked tired now and took a long, wheezing breath. “But as is sometimes the unfortunate way of things, in later years he and I had a falling-out. As his criticism of the company and its business grew louder, he became more of a problem. When he brought us that Greenhouse Recovery Project of his, I thought he’d lost his mind, that he’d let himself get carried away with his own outlandish ideas. Later I came to recognize that he wasn’t as mad as I’d believed, but by then it was too late. Few know, outside of the company leadership, but for a long time I’ve had to watch, powerless, as my eldest son secretly made all the key decisions.”

  “So is that what my parents were doing? Getting ready to expose the truth about Uncle Hector and Spider to everyone who didn’t know?”

  Grandfather nodded, the strain of talking so much starting to show in his drooping eyelids. “Apparently so.”

  It was like a slam to Eli’s gut. Memories came rushing back to him, little things Mother and Father said or did in his presence that should have been clues: How they always warned him to stay on Uncle Hector’s good side. The way they often left family gatherings early and seemed to keep themselves apart from the rest of the Papadopouloses. Every once in a while, they’d let slip disparaging comments about InfiniCorp’s senior leadership, and even about the company itself. He’d noticed these things in the past but never considered that they might mean anything. Eli had always felt his parents didn’t pay enough attention to him, but now he realized he had paid too little attention to them.

  “What did the Department of Loyalty do with them? Are Mother and Father in another slave facility like the one I’m in?”

  Grandfather’s eyes grew watery. He nodded. “As far as I know, yes. I’m so sorry, Eli. I let so much happen that shouldn’t have. I was wrong about so many things.…”

  Eli barely heard him anymore. He felt as if he were falling, as if his whole world were sinking into darkness. The old man started to cough again, and the pink, fleshy walls went into spasms. While one of the robots adjusted his pillow, the other tweaked the dials on the equipment beside the bed. Even so, it was a while before Grandfather’s spasms were under control once more.

  “Now, I’m very tired, child,” he said at last, his voice even weaker. “You’ll have to let me sleep. But please understand that I accept full responsibility for what I’ve done. I made my choices, just like you will. I only hope your decisions will prove wiser than mine. Of all my grandchildren, I’ve always considered you special, and for good reason.” He half smiled. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that. After all, our conversation is sure to be recorded and analyzed later. I’m afraid Hector and Spider don’t trust me. They seem to suspect that my allegiance to the company I built may not be as strong as it once was. They have me under constant watch now, so I must always be careful what I say and do.” He was looking directly at Eli now. “Before long they’re sure to find out about your visit here and how you made it happen. You should be aware of that.”

  It was at this moment that Eli realized the robots’ optical sensors were fixed on him once again. But he was too upset to care anymore. If everything Grandfather said was true, what could anyone possibly do to him to make matters worse?

  “But what’s going to happen to me, Grandfather? Can’t you get me out of the tower?”

  “Believe me, I would help if I could, but I’m powerless. In any case, my time is drawing to a close.” Grandfather looked as if something had just occurred to him. “Oh, but perhaps there’s one small consolation I may be able to offer. Remember the soothing melodies you used to unlock from my music box? Well, music isn’t the only key to quieting a troubled mind. And in that spirit I’ll leave you with one final riddle.”

  Eli stared. A riddle? Now?

  The old man must have seen the incredulity on Eli’s face, because he added, “Don’t worry, this is an especially good one. It happens to have been a favorite of my friend’s, the one who designed the domes. Here it is: When backward is forward, Alice looks through a mirror. What does she see?”

  Eli’s confusion only deepened. Everything appears backward in mirrors. When Alice steps through the looking glass, she finds an entire world in reverse. It was part of the whole point of the second Alice story! But before he could say so or ask Grandfather to explain further, Eli found himself slipping back into the tunnel of color.

  “Goodbye, my dear. Goodbye …,” rasped Grandfather, and then he started to cough again, violent hacks that sounded like they were ripping open his insides. But the lung room was getting smaller and smaller. Eli tried to reach out for the old man, realizing it was probably the last time he’d ever see him, but already he felt himself falling backward across the CloudNet. Soon the colors were rushing past once more, swooping and twisting around him in a breathtaking canopy of light.

  In an instant he jolted awake again. His eyes opened. He was back in the Special Training room.

  The walls and floor trembled and rolled with each crash of the waves. The wind had grown louder. It sounded like a shrieking chorus now, as if it might have the power to rip the protective dome away from the tower at any moment.

  Eli buried his face in his hands. Grandfather had lost his mind. He’d saved the world only to end up leaving the last of humankind in a defenseless daydream, and when Eli had asked for his help in a crisis, all he’d given him was a stupid riddle. Somehow what stung most was that members of his own family had known the truth all along. Eli almost wished he’d never found out. If only he could go back and warn the others, tell them that the Foggers were right, that InfiniCorp was nothing but a lie.

  But there was no chance of that anymore.

  Even now he still had the option of living in a dream and ending the growing anguish he felt in his heart. He could give himself up to the Guardians and go willingly into a bottomless reverie. It was definitely the easier option. It would shield him from the terror of the End Times and might even stop him from feeling the shame of what his family had done.

  And yet, he remembered, not everybody in his family had been content keeping so many terrible secrets. His parents had tried to change things for the better. He was glad, at least, for that. But Eli didn’t want to dwell on what had happened to them just then. If he did, he was going to start crying like a little kid. Right now he couldn’t afford to do that.

  He looked down at Marilyn, lying collapsed on his uniform. Her head had sunk to his chest and her eyelids hung half-closed. She looked even more fragile than before, if that was possible, as if taking him through the CloudNet had depleted her strength so badly she could barely move. He hated to ask any more of her, but he had little choice. He remembered what Grandfather said about the only remaining question, and he had already chosen his answer.

  It was time for desperate action.

  Marilyn, are you strong enough to unbolt the door? We have to get out of here.

  Her echoing voice was faint but clear. I think so, my love. I’ll do everything I can.

  He picked her up and cradled her in his arm. She closed her eyes. It pained him to w
atch how hard she seemed to struggle as her chest rose and fell. Moments later, though, he heard the electronic latch click open. He gave a silent word of thanks and put her gently into his pocket so she could rest. Then he slid out of the chair and opened the door just a crack.

  When he felt sure it was empty, he crept out into the hallway.

  24

  a cog in the grand design

  Tabitha couldn’t sleep.

  It was the middle of the night, less than a day after she’d slipped Eli the note about his parents. She regretted showing him the document now, but she’d never expected to set off such a firestorm. The strangest part, the part that still amazed her even now as she lay in the darkness of her bunk, was that he hadn’t given her away to the Guardians, even when doing so would have made things easier on him. It was an act of selflessness that had astonished her. And now it was too late for anyone to help him.

  It left her thinking again about the old man in the sky.

  Deep down she wanted to believe the story and everything it implied—that maybe Eli really could be el Guía, that he might actually be the one who could lead the way to safety in the great unknown. But no, she couldn’t let herself slip back into that old foolishness. The kid wasn’t el Guía because no such person existed. There was no lost sanctuary either, no hidden paradise waiting to be found just so that people could ride out the apocalypse.

  There would be no happy ending for humanity.

  Only wind and rain and sand and death.

  Okay, so maybe the kid did something selfless, but that didn’t change anything. Eli Papadopoulos was still just a boy who was in way over his head. Right or wrong, he was as good as dead now, and she was still here. This was all that mattered anymore.