by Jake Macklem
“Human race, we call on you.” There was no visual, just an audio feed. “We are the last of a dying species that has safeguarded the universe from threats. We have accomplished this with courage, a millennium of scientific understanding, and hard-earned wisdom. Of the eighteen thousand seven hundred and twenty-four technologically advanced races in the universe, eight have the potential capability to assume protection of the universe. By learning the knowledge contained in this vessel, the technology with are leaving for you—it is my hope, that you, with the other called races, will take our place as the vigilant defenders the galaxy needs.”
“The time for you to solve your political and social grievances and join the galactic community has come. When the nations of your world agree with each other to advance their awareness and knowledge, this vessel will continue to Earth and send further instruction and assistance. Instruction on how to begin this process will be sent following this broadcast. Until these instructions have been completed, this ship will consider any vessel that approaches to have hostile or selfish intent and will protect itself, this system, and the universe as a whole.”
“I speak this message knowing it will ripple through your people, shaking your core beliefs and understanding of the universe. To learn that you are not alone and that your people have a destiny among the stars is not an easy thing. The challenges facing your people might seem insurmountable, but the human race has been chosen for many reasons, among them, your ingenuity and perseverance. Your ability to look past the moment and into the future to see what it may hold. Your people have hope. You must bring that hope to the eighteen thousand seven hundred and twenty-four civilizations of the universe.
“One hundred years from today you will have your opportunity to enter your place in the galactic community. I hope the people of the Sol system rise up to the challenge and take your place in the cosmos. The task thrust upon your people and those that will stand with you is a heavy responsibility and one of great honor.”
When the recording finished, a grainy picture opened, showing a sphere-shaped ship orbiting Neptune. “That, children, is the first picture taken of the ship by a satellite sent by the governments of Earth to see what was really there. After this photo hit the network, at the time called the intertube, there was no doubt, and the people of Earth united to become Sol.”
Ace looked outside at the sky.
I hated school. They’d ask me to read a book, then we’d talk about it. I already read it, I know what happens, why do we have to talk about it? Schools only ever teach want they want you to believe. I didn’t like school until…
The dreamscape shifted and darkened. Ace walked down an alley, a shortcut to the club. Mick had told her many times not to take it home, but Ace did anyway; it was faster. It was not dangerous, but some of the girls would take customers into the alley. Mick did not want Ace to see that kind of stuff, but she did not look, and none of the girls told.
Sobs cut through the alley, bouncing off the walls. Ace crept up and peeked around the dumpster toward the sound. Glitter stood, tears streaming down her cheeks, her shirt lifted, exposing her chest, her lips wrapped around the barrel of the gun in her mouth.
Glitter never was real bright.
Young Ace looked around the alley until she found a slightly bent two-foot pipe. Setting her backpack down, she picked up the pipe, gripped it tightly, and said, “Just like Mick does it.” Calmly, with steady steps, the eleven-year-old Ace rounded the dumpster and strode directly toward the man with the gun, careful not to let her approach disturb him.
“You want to keep sucking on my gun—or something else?” The creep asked. He turned toward the whistling sound in time to see the pipe slam into his elbow with a hollow, metallic chime. He dropped the gun and screamed. He looked at the young girl, gasping in pain and surprise as she jabbed the end of the pipe into his knee cap. Falling to the ground, he started dragging himself away. “Stay away from me, you little psycho!” The man whimpered as he pulled himself through the muck of the alley. Ace lifted the pipe, ready to slam it down on the creep’s head.
“Ace, stop!” Mick’s voice reverberated through the alley. She turned to look at him, still holding the pipe overhead.
Glitter shuffled behind Mick and looked around his massive arm.
“You okay, Glitter?” he said.
She nodded, wiping the black streaks of mascara on her face. “See Ace, Glitter is fine. You saved her. Put the pipe down.”
The creep blinked up at her as she slowly lowered the pipe. She scowled at him and said, “He wasn’t being nice, Mick.”
“I know, kid. I’ll have a chat with him about that. But you should take Glitter in and get her something to drink. Help her calm down, okay?” Mick’s voice was soothing. Nodding, Ace turned and started toward the club. Mick walked toward her, reaching out his hand. Ace gave him the pipe. “You did real good kid.”
“Are you crazy! That little bitch broke my arm!” The creep shouted.
Mick’s face tightened, his dark eyes fell on the creep, the shadows deepened. In the same calm voice, he said, “Get Ace inside so I can deal with this.”
Ace nodded and glanced at the creep one last time. Maybe it was the pity or the sadness in her eyes, but the color drained from his face. Taking Glitter’s hand, the two started into the club as Mick started toward the creep.
“Look, I’m sorry! Please, don’t! Please!”
&
Ace opened her eyes and immediately regretted it. The merciless sun was directly overhead, piercing through the veil of woven grass that Cam had prepared as a tent-like cover. The heat threatened to melt her skin. The shade under the makeshift tent was the only reason she was not on fire. Looking over toward Cam, she saw that he still slept, his hat tilted to cover his eyes, rivulets of sweat dripping down his face and neck. Scanning the area around the raft, she saw nothing had changed during the day. The mountains were still far away and the raft was being pulled along by the current. Looking at the heavy yellow and red clouds and feeling the wet air cling to her body, she knew it was going to rain again, soon.
They had been drifting for days, pulling off onto little mountain top islands when they could for rest, but they had not been able to for the last two evenings. No mountain top islands. Looking over the edge of the raft, she could not see the bottom. The spear doesn’t reach the bottom anymore. There’s just so much water. I wonder if the Warthog is still there or if it was washed away. The hut is probably gone. Ace looked at Shaw. He’s the only reason I’m alive right now. He’s a good man. Mick will like him—think he’s a sucker, but like him. Shifting herself to a sitting position, Ace drank some clean water from her canteen and let her eyes drift. They settled on the far horizon behind them, where a hazy cloud hovered over the water. Ace’s eyes narrowed. Is that a storm?
15: Cam
Cam lifted the front of his hat as Ace crawl across the raft to his pack. She pulled it open, exposing the large stash of precious metal in the main pouch “Hey, what are you doing!” Cam sat up. “That’s mine!”
“I know they’re yours. I’m just going to use them.” She grabbed the binoculars and looked northwest.
“Oh.” She doesn’t seem to care about the platinum and gold. “That’s the wrong way if you’re looking for land.” He smiled at his own wit, but when Ace did not respond he shifted and eyeballed the direction she was studying. The horizon was hazy, but it looked as if the clouds were coming from the water, not the sky. “What is that?”
“I don’t get it.” She handed him the binoculars.
Peering through the lenses, Cam watched the water roil, fog billowing in a swirling mass over the surface. It’s like the mist from a waterfall. He had never seen anything like it, and as he lowered the binoculars he said, “Huh.”
“What is it?”
“It looks like some sort of big wave of steam.” As the words settled over him, he remembered the huge channels carved in the mountain ridge. Bringing the binoculars up, he
checked the mountains, the water was halfway up the erosion zone, churning and crashing against the stone. That puts the plain bottom one hundred and fifty meters below us. Turning to the wave, he realized it was getting closer very quickly. Already the waters beneath them were tossing their humble raft. “Oh damn,” he said.
“Colorful vernaculars?” Concern creased Ace’s face and she asked, “What is it, Shaw?”
“I think I just figured out what makes this moon flood.” He looked to the sky and then pointed at the mountain tops. “The sun heats the iron and it melts any ice that has formed at its poles, but the soil can’t absorb all the runoff. The water flows down to the lowest points on the moon.” He paused and looked at Ace. “Which are these plains. The haze is steam. The ice water runoff is mixing with the hot water from the lower lakes and rivers.” Cam looked around for someplace to pull the raft out of the water, but the mountains were still too far away. “Start stowing the gear and tie everything down, including yourself. This is gonna get bad.”
The duo worked together to take down the parachute they had set up for added shade. Five minutes later they had the raft secured and Ace leveled her gaze on the approaching steam. The roil of the wave came closer. “Start paddling!” Cam used his carved paddle and Ace used her spear, modified with a flat piece of bent metal as the fin. “The faster we’re going, the easier we’ll be swept up in the current.”
The oncoming rush of water sounded like thunder. Mugginess in the air came before the bouncing waves. The steam started to obscure their view of the mountains in the distance. As the cold water washed under them, the raft cooled in temperature. “You feel that?” Ace asked.
“Yep. The polymer will hold!” Cam shouted over the violent conflict of tides. “Keep paddling!” The raft started to spin and drift wildly across the roiling waves as it picked up more speed. The duo was tossed around the raft, fighting to row while maintaining their balance. The splashing water was sometimes cold, almost freezing, and other times it was warm, or body temperature. A cold tingle crept up his spine as fear attempted to take root. Taking a deep breath, Cam focused on one thing. I’m coming home, Gwen.
Cam’s thumping adrenaline made everything move in slow motion, each second dragging out into an impossible length of perceived time. Each dip into a wave, each expression of exertion on Ace’s face, lasted only a moment, but Cam had time to commit every detail to memory. I’m coming home, Gwen. The raft suddenly jerked and the right side lifted with the rising wave under it as the left side went down and water poured in. Lunging to the right, he slammed into the raft, desperately trying to push it through the top of the wave.
Ace’s eyes went wide as the gear shifted and slammed into her. She waved her arms, desperately trying to keep her balance, and fell from the raft. She held onto the spear with both hands. The thrashing grasp of the water, scalding and cold, wrenched her body in all directions at once and she vanished in the muck and debris.
Damn It! Cam watched as the rope uncoiled, went taut, and slid along the edge of the raft. He followed the line—it was wrapped around a center polymer support strut, looped a couple of times, and then continued to his waist. She tied us together? He grabbed the rope and was just able to prepare for the sharp snap and tugging of the line.
“Ahhggg!” he grimaced under the pull on his hips and burning in his forearms. “Come on, Red!” He realized that they were behind the front of the wave now. The worst was over and they were drifting more slowly. He scrambled to the raft’s edge and started retrieving the wet, slick rope, hand over hand. Scanning the waves, he could not see through the thick layer of steam and the constant spray of water. “Damn it, Red!”
Then he felt a jerk against the rope. That’s it, girl! Fight! Reaching as far out as he could, he wrapped the rope around his forearm twice and braced it with his other hand. “Help me, Gwen!” In his mind’s eye, Gwen’s caramel-colored eyes beamed at him. “We’re coming home, Gwen!” Cam felt his skin rip as he heaved, searing pain consumed his clenched fingers as the rope fought his grip.
Twelve meters off the raft, Ace burst the surface of the churning waves, gasping for air.
“Thanks, Gwen,” Cam muttered under his breath as he pulled the rope in while Ace swam to the raft.
Reaching the edge, she handed up the spear first, then took Cam’s hand and climbed up out of the water. Together they collapsed in the raft's bottom, breathing hard and heavy. “Thanks. Couldn’t figure out which way was up…” She rolled onto her back. “Gotta admit, that was the first cold I’ve felt since I got here. Refreshing.”
She might not be right in the head. “I don’t expect the word refreshing in a near-death experience, Red. You almost drowned.”
Ace rolled her head to look at Cam. Her eyes were wild, a neurotic expression searched his face.
“Red, what is it?” Cam asked. She shook her head violently, refusing to speak. Cam spoke softly, “It’s ok Red, you’re safe. Everything is ok, now.”
Her eyes locked onto his and she blurted, “Once, I let a girl die in the water.” Her voice lowered, and she turned her eyes, unfocused, to the sky above her, “I didn’t mean to. I thought I could complete the…” she balked, “…what I needed to do and save her.” She stared at the sky as she continued, “When that cold water hit me, I was back there.” Her gaze focused, still distant, on a point in time she could never go back to. “I wondered what she thought when she saw me in the water, not coming to help her. Did she hate me? Did she even understand what was happening to her?” Her voice broke and tears started running down her temples to the edge of her ears. “I really thought I could save her, Shaw. I tried!” She started to sob.
“Hey Red, now shush. It’s okay.” He reached out and wrapped his arm around her like he would one of his children, pulling her close, letting her sob into his shoulder. She’s been through so much, the trauma is starting to break her. “We all have to learn from our choices and mistakes. You wanted to save her… you said you tried to save her, right? It’s not your fault, Red.” He held her close gently rocking. “It’s not your fault.”
“It was my fault.” Ace had a distant look on her face as she said, “They’re all dead and it was all my fault, Shaw. I’m the only one left. They died in my place. It should have been me.”
“You’re talking nonsense, kid.” He reached across her with his other arm, drawing her closer in the most enveloping hug he could manage. “It shouldn’t have been any of you. Or anyone at all. This whole Verse is cruel and hard. People are in life and death situations every day. The Verse ain’t fair, Red, except that it kicks everyone.”
Her head snapped up and looked at him, her eyes red, but focused. “What did you say?”
“The Verse ain’t fair except that it kicks everyone?” Cam repeated unsure if that was what she meant or if she wanted him to say all of it.
“The only thing fair in this Verse is that it’s equally unfair to everyone.” Ace smiled.
“Yeah, that’s another way of saying it. The Wisdom of the Verse talks about it.” Cam locked eyes with her. “Look Red, I don’t know where your head is right now, or what happened in the past. But if you are the only one left and your sisters laid down their lives for you, don’t you need to put your best effort forward, to honor them?”
“It doesn’t make the guilt go away.”
“It never will. But knowing you are using the gifts you have been given will help you deal with their loss.” Cam swallowed, fighting down memories of his own. Visions of fallen brothers and sisters in arms. The desperate moments, terrifying storms of lasers and bullets. The ringing of explosions, peering in the smoke, trying to determine friend from foe. The screams and the blood and the dead eyes. Through all of it, one thing was constant, one thing always got him to the other side of chaos. I’m coming home, Gwen.
16: Ace
Ace and Cam pulled the raft up onto the small mountain peak that was now a little island. They had spent the last hour paddling and after her litt
le swim, Ace was exhausted. The raft was out of the water and a few meters from the shore—just in case the water rose more over the few hours of solid sleep they hoped to get.
Cam had wrapped his rope-burned arm and hand and was careful when he scooped up his rifle. Ace did not like looking at the bandages. Just another person I’ve hurt.
“I’m gonna just check the immediate area. You want to come with?” Cam asked.
The last thing I want to do. But I ain’t letting you leave me alone again. “Yeah.” Ace checked her spear then said, “You want me to take point?”
“I got the rifle, Red.” Cam winked and together they started exploring. The mountain island had a gentle grade to the center maybe ten meters above the water level and fifteen meters from the shore. “Let’s go have a look.” Along the way, Cam stopped and pulled out his personal recorder.
“What are you doing?”
“Gonna do another video from the family.” Cam looked at the camera and then Ace. “I always have to do the camera and talking. Would you mind doing the recording?” He held it out to her.
I don’t want to hold your shanking camera! “Whatever.” She snatched the camera and in a moment had it ready to go in her right hand while still carrying her spear in her left. Through the capture display, she saw the sad look on Cam’s face. I hurt his feelings. Confused, Ace said, “You ready.”
He pondered while he regarded her, then said, “Ready.” The change as he spoke to his family was instant.
STAR worthy.
“Hey everyone! So here we are on a small island, that’s actually a mountain top most of the time. The flood around here is really bad—like get a submarine bad.” He smiled at his joke. “Anyway I wanted to show you guys this.” He knelt and pulled some brush aside. “This is a tunnel hole. We’ve passed a few of them—”
