Escaping the Sun

by Rhett Goreman

  ‘The happy couple actually met for the first time when they were presented with their tickets by a senior member of the High Elite, and formally signed up for the ride, live on television. What a show that was - all glitz and glamour, fanfares and fireworks. As the ending credits rolled by, everyone on stage, and also those sat in the front row of the audience, had bright green goo poured over them.’

  ‘Hopefully, nobody will be gunged today.’

  ‘Though the Captain is, in fact, just a particularly articulate android, the newly-weds have invited him, any off-duty crew and all the passengers to their party. However, the Observation Deck is now full to capacity and people are having to be turned away. For those, like myself, who managed to gain entry, the dress code is strictly informal - a chance to reconfigure our uniforms to emulate fine party dresses and multi-coloured silk shirts. On the dance floor, some of the girls’ dresses are quite revealing, whilst others shimmer with sparks of light. Most are wearing clothes that change colour in time to the loud chest thumping music.’

  ‘As with all of the Observation Decks, the massive windows are on the floor of the room and so we have been actually dancing on their transparent membranes. Looking down at my feet, I seem to be floating in space and literally surrounded by stars. Above me there is a brilliant light show, provided by vivid biochemical reactions taking place in the ceiling.’

  *

  Before Larine Vangel could reach the end her report, Quiana finally gave in to a wave of tiredness that washed heavily over her mind, sending her into a deep and peaceful sleep.

  Yet there is more to this story than even Larine Vangel could have known.

  At the end of the evening, after all the guests had been thanked for coming and the lighting had been dimmed, the Observation Deck was filled with soft music that was gradually fading away.

  The bride and groom, Carilesha and Paolin, married only hours before by the Captain, were left to finish the night, dancing quietly by themselves.

  Holding each other closely, they became aware of their own heartbeats.

  As they kissed, the sensation they shared was amplified by the deep throbbing of the ship’s own pulse.

  It seemed all three hearts were beating as one.

  Chapter 15 – Enemies

  The firelight, skimming the walls of our makeshift prison, was interrupted by a brawny shadow that flew down the passageway towards us. A golden edged silhouette loomed at the entrance. It was Woynek, the leader of this small troupe of Scavengers. He briefly spoke with the guard and walked into our cave. After finding a spot to put down what he was carrying, he untied our hands. He apologised for our rough treatment and then gave both of us a metal spoon and a cup. Each cup was full to the brim with a steaming olive green broth. Chunks of squidgy grey meat floated in the gravy. It had the smell of seaweed and tasted like flame grilled sprouts.

  I made the mistake of asking him what it was.

  Woynek flicked his long unkempt black hair behind his tattooed shoulders, took a deep breath through flaring nostrils, and proceeded to furnish me with too much information.

  ‘This is our staple food,’ he explained. ‘It’s made from those large flat bugs that scurry around the swamps and tundra eating algae and rotting vegetation. They are very hard to see against the salty earth until you stand on one. No part of them goes to waste,’ he said pointing at his loin cloth and his shoes.

  I could see now his scant clothing was in fact made from the scaly armour of three or four creatures that must have been something like woodlice the size of large dinner plates when they were alive.

  Woynek continued, ‘We call them “Scrabs”. They are the only animals still able to live on the surface, and by having no competition they are in some abundance. We never go hungry. Their hard but flexible shell clamps down onto the dirt, reflecting any sunlight, and preventing their soft underbelly from drying out during the extreme daytime temperatures.’

  With a medley of images now swimming around in my head, the broth smelt even more awful and tasted worse, but it was the best meal I had eaten in a billion years and so I thanked Woynek for it.

  He sat down beside us, on the dusty stone floor, partly to make sure we ate our soup, but mainly to find out more about his prisoners.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, raising his thick bushy eyebrows. ‘What am I to do with you two? Who are you? What were you doing in that vehicle?’ Pushing his fingers into my shoulder he continued, ‘And why are you dressed in these ridiculous clothes?’

  I started to speak, but the girl put her hand up to stop me. ‘My name is Tukarra,’ she said. ‘I am an anthropologist. I have been searching, for physical evidence of ancient humans, all my life.’

  ‘Over many years, I have found several skeletons; of people killed either by the Great Asteroid impact itself, or by the resulting Tsunami; or of those who had been frozen, or otherwise starved to death, during the worldwide dark ages that lasted for hundreds of years after that.’

  ‘But my goal was to find well preserved remains, and archived records showed that, just before the Great Asteroid struck, over a hundred million humans must have been deliberately frozen and stored in underground bunkers all around the globe.’

  ‘Until today, it had been thought none of those people could have survived the incredibly long time that has passed. A third of their stasis pods were swept away by the impact. Another third suffered power failures. Most of the rest were inexorably attacked by extremophile bacteria.’

  She paused to take a sip from her cup, and for the first time she was able to look deeply into my eyes. Time seemed to stand still. My heart missed a beat. In a fraction of a second, I was able to drink in every subtlety of expression in her face. I am sure I could see the spark of something more than just a purely professional interest in me. There just had to be.

  ‘That’s where this man comes in,’ she said, touching my knee.

  Turning my head towards Woynek, but without taking my eyes off her, I announced, ‘My name is Rhett by the way.’ I spoke as if I was in some hypnotic trance. It didn’t seem to matter what the soup tasted like any more.

  Tukarra continued, ‘The bunker we found Rhett in, Bunker 7, was extraordinary. As with other bunkers, it had been buried under aeons of rubble and silt. The difference was, the whole area around it was covered with those land mines, and every hallway and storage bay was completely filled with artificial stone. The stone must have protected Rhett from the ravages of time - something like flies trapped in amber, I expect. His clothes are what he was wearing when I revived him. The vehicle you found us in was intended to take us to my home city of Vidora, but we lost our way in the worsening storm and ended up triggering dozens of mines. The resulting explosion caused your tunnels to cave in. I am very sorry that happened. I can assure you that was not our intention.’

  When we had finished the last drop of our soup, Woynek recovered the precious aluminium cups and spoons from us. He then politely asked us to sit as before, with our backs together, whilst he securely re-tied our hands behind us once again.

  Tukarra pleaded with Woynek, ‘Look,’ she said. ‘Please let me speak with Rhett for a while longer. You will be helping me to fulfil a lifelong dream to talk with a living fossil! Whatever you intend to do with me after that, I’ll die happy!’

  You could see Woynek did not enjoy being negotiated with by a prisoner and especially not by a member of the Elite. But like me, he had succumbed to the charms of this beautiful girl. He pretended to ignore her request, and instead focussed his attention back onto me.

  ‘So you are an ancient human, a relic from the past. How fascinating. I thought you looked too scrawny to be a spy. You must know nothing of what the Elite have done to us,’ he said.

  ‘I, I have only just met Tukarra,’ I stammered.

  Woynek made me an offer, ‘My fellow Scavengers hate the Elite and all their sympathisers. I am grateful for the technical education they gave me but nothing more. You, my friend, will have to decide
upon which side your allegiance lies. If it were left to the others you would both be dead by now. I can’t hold them off for much longer.’

  ‘I’ll tell you why most Scavengers hate the Elite,’ he said. ‘For many generations, humans were used as their slaves to build a great Obelisk in the desert. Today, humans are still used to dig new levels under cities, such as Vidora, even deeper than before. Many slaves “disappear” overnight. Over the years, the number of Elite has stayed virtually constant, whilst the number of humans in their “care” seems to vary depending on the size of any construction project in hand. More recently there has been a limited supply of food and it is painfully clear the human population has been “managed” to match the rate of supply. No-one is allowed to grow old, or recover from an injury. They just disappear.’

  Woynek drew another long deep breath through his nose and pushed on, ‘We Scavengers have escaped from slavery to scratch out a meagre existence in these abandoned mine workings, only returning to the surface to hunt for Scrabs. We were just on our way back from a hunting trip when that massive explosion knocked us off our feet, and your vehicle dropped into our world.’

  He changed the subject for a moment, ‘You should be grateful your Scrab meat was freshly cooked over a real fire. We just so happen to have set up camp next to a thin coal seam that lines the walls in this part of the tunnel system.’

  Woynek reached his conclusion, ‘You might not think much of the way we live down here; but at least we can raise families and die of natural causes. Like I said, you must now choose either to become one of us, or else to become yet another outlet for Makhar’s revenge. You see, the Elite were behind the “disappearance” of everyone who ever meant something to him, when he was a child.’

  With that, he turned on his heels and walked out of the cave past the guard, leaving both Tukarra and me dismayed but free to talk with each other once again.

  ‘I swear that was the first time I have ever heard a Scavenger tell their half of the story,’ said Tukarra. ‘As I have previously mentioned, all humans apart from yourself, and the others we rescued from Bunker 7, were originally children of the Elite. Humans are not forced to work for us. They are never whipped or put in chains. They are simply given decent food in return for manual labour such as mining and earth works. Just a few humans are selected to become personal assistants to the Elite. They are trained as apprentices in a trade or profession of some kind. It sounds like Woynek may have been an apprentice when he was younger.’

  ‘What about the disappearances?’ I asked.

  ‘I must admit, I have never thought about them like that before. I suppose they have always happened. They happen to the Elite as well, but because we have a much longer lifespan than humans they do not occur very often. This is a fact of life I have grown up to accept. I know that when I am no longer of any use to society, the Ether will call on me for recycling.’

  ‘Recycling? What do you mean?’

  ‘The chemicals in my body will be dissolved and returned into our ecosystem for reuse by future generations of Elite.’

  ‘You mean you will be killed, sacrificed to the Ether?’

  ‘If that is how you see it, then yes. In fact, I was nearing my time for recycling. Indeed, if my team had not managed to rescue your people, then there would be no work left for anthropologists such as myself when the Elite leave the Earth behind for good - and that is exactly what they will do in a few hours from now. Finding you has given me hope. Something new to study.’

  I had to face the possibility that she really did only have a professional interest in me - so I continued to seek her professional opinion. ‘Why was the discovery of ancient humans like myself so important? After all, the Scavengers are human aren’t they?’

  Tukarra had no trouble answering, ‘You are extremely valuable as a pattern to confirm the High Elite have been successful in their mission to preserve the human race, warts and all. In contrast, the Elite can live a couple of hundred years and the High Elite are virtually immortal. The High Elite can survive the passage of time on a long voyage to the stars for example. Apart from that particular distinction, like all Elite, their offspring are supposed to be normal humans. So when the time is right, the human race can literally be reborn. You can be our point of reference, our quality control to check we have built genuine humans. You might also help us to understand what the other animals and plants we have found in our archives were actually used for in your day.’

  ‘What was the Obelisk Woynek referred to?’ I asked.

  After a little thought she replied, ‘A thousand years ago, a human workforce was required to build a huge Dark Matter Engine as big as a mountain range. That will probably be the Obelisk he spoke of.’

  On hearing this, I had to raise the obvious question, ‘What do you want such a big engine for?’

  ‘It is being used to slow down the Earth’s rotation,’ explained Tukarra. ‘Soon the Earth will present just one face towards the Sun. At the boundary between day and night there will be a narrow band of permanent twilight. The plan is for this band of twilight to settle directly over Vidora. Any remaining humans, living in the city, should then be protected from the ever increasing heat. If it is treated with some respect then Vidora could continue to be suitable for human habitation for many more years to come.’

  I thanked her for satisfying my curiosity, but then urged her to tell me more about what happened to the human workforce. In particular, I wanted to know why and how its size had varied over time.

  She picked up the thread once more, ‘As I was saying: A thousand years ago, humans were also needed to build our power stations, cities, and rocket ships. So a successful breeding programme was begun. I have to admit, until Woynek told us just now, I had no idea why so many humans wanted to leave us to scratch out a living in the old mine workings. They constantly tunnel under our cities. They emerge in storerooms to steal food and metal objects from us. That is why they are known as Scavengers and that is why we have to construct deeper and deeper levels to prevent our cities from being undermined and raided.’

  Tukarra’s description of the Scavengers reminded me of the impoverished outcasts and greenhouse raiding parties I had grown accustomed to back home. It seems history does indeed repeat itself when one community shuns another.

  I began to reflect on everything that had happened to me since Graduation Day, when I was struck by an idea. ‘When did you first find out my name was Rhett Goreman?’ I asked.

  Tukarra smiled, ‘Your name is printed across the top pocket of the pyjamas you are wearing.’

  A swift glance at my pocket confirmed she was telling the truth. I blushed and quickly moved on, ‘Who else saw my name back at the bunker?’

  ‘Our poor dead driver. His name was Sagin.’

  ‘Would Sagin have reported my name to his superiors?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tukarra, ‘That was part of his job. While he was waiting for us, he would have posted on the Ether a complete list of the names of those we managed to rescue. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Do you know,’ I conjectured, ‘I am beginning to think almost everyone wants me dead. Back home, I narrowly avoided being killed in what may well have been a deliberate car crash. During training, I just missed being used for target practice, at least twice. Whilst you were “rescuing” me I was almost struck by the biggest bolt of lightning I have ever seen. And now, after surviving a maze of exploding land mines, old Woynek, king of the savages, threatens me with death if I stay by your side.’

  A light dawned for Tukarra, ‘Your father wasn’t Aleq Goreman was he?’

  ‘Yes,’ I replied.

  ‘That’s amazing. Aleq Goreman is also now known as “The Father of the Elite.” He invented the Biological Quantum Computers that in turn created the Elite, and all our smart materials, from the archived genetic samples they were watching over. Deep below Vidora is Archive 239, the very foundation of modern civilisation. So you, Rhett, are the best possible link we have to our
past. You will surely be welcomed as a hero if I can ever get you to my home city alive.’

  ‘By the way, what did you really think of the soup?’

  ‘I suppose it was quite nourishing, once I got over the nausea,’ I said. ‘At least we weren’t in it!’

  Despite the oppressive heat in the tunnels, and the additional warmth from the soup inside me, I broke out in a cold sweat when she quipped back at me, ‘No, not yet. They are probably saving the best ’till last.’

  Chapter 16 – The Bridal Suite

  All was quiet now, save for the sound of snoring from the heap of dirty sweaty men outside our cave. The light of the fire was slowly ebbing away and Tukarra’s, pure white, self-cleaning uniform began to faintly glow once more. It still looked brand new, with not a mark on it. In contrast, my thin cotton pyjamas were filthy and torn.

  More than an hour went by and we were still sitting on the floor, back to back, with our hands tied together, the cord cutting into our wrists. I had found a small stone and was working awkwardly with it between twisted fingers, trying to loosen our bonds. I wasn’t having much luck.

  Tukarra asked me, ‘Do you not need to sleep like the others?’

  ‘I suppose I should do,’ I replied. ‘But I am not tired. I need to gather my thoughts, to try and make sense of everything that has been happening to me lately.’

  ‘Well, you will have to excuse me,’ said Tukarra. ‘I don’t need much sleep myself, but I have been awake almost a month now, and so I must get some rest.’

  Before I had even managed to say, ‘Okay,’ I felt the back of her head fall limp against my shoulder. She must have been completely exhausted. After a while, she started to dream. I could feel her head gently bobbing. There was an occasional murmur. I wished I could see her face.

  Some time later, and with the Scavengers still fast asleep outside our cave, she woke up and I learned she had been dreaming about a young couple who had just got married. She described the dream as though she was really there, seeing the world either through the eyes of the bride and groom or floating nearby looking down on them.