The Family

by Saxon Keeley

  “Be strong. We are arriving,” said Zhang.

  The press swarm them as they pull up to the court. Police rush over to hold back the mob. Zhang’s men step out to help secure the area. The rabble push and shove trying to get the first shot. Their yells are indiscriminate noise.

  When the car door opens, flashing light blinds them both. Following the Chairman, Charles steps out into crowd. Taking deep breaths, he begins to make his way through the narrow clearing that the police have carved. A helicopter flies over head. But to Charles’ surprise, it does not stay to observe the spectacle.

  Heading straight for the hearing, Charles takes his place alone before the council. Laying out his paper work, he contemplates the futility of doing so.

  In the gallery sits powerful individuals of the political and business worlds. All with their own vested interest. Zhang sits surrounded by his men. Out of place, but not out of sorts.

  “All rise,” a voice boomed.

  Charles watches as the aged men and women of the CERE walk into the room, sitting in front of their respective flags; United States of America, Britain, the European Union, India, Japan, Australia, Israel, Egypt, South Africa and the Middle Eastern Pact. All of which fought against China during the war.

  Amongst the representatives is Professor Harrison. Older and frailer than Charles ever remembered his lecturer being.

  Li Jung

  Marking the latest batch of papers from the third-year undergrads, Li monotonously flicks though yet another average submission on Nuclei. Wine used to make the task bearable, but such a remedy is problematic in her current situation.

  Their association with the university began as a means to scout for the gifted and talented. But as the years have gone by, few students have ever shown much promise.

  Refusing to ever publish their research, both Li and Charles are content in their roles. Each preferring the practical application of science than the qualifications that come with academia. Since Alistair, neither of them have had much time to visit the university. Gradually commitments are broken and hobbies are being lost, despite her best efforts.

  Outside the wind howls, distracting her from the papers. The violence of the weather is reminiscent of when they landed on Delta Nine. She remembers gazing upon the oncoming sandstorm as they stepped off the boat. A sea of red approaching at such speed, they all had to run back in.

  For a moment, she loses herself in the world she once inhabited. Then Alistair from down the hall begins to cry again. Li checks the time and concludes he must be hungry.

  While walking down the hall, Alistair’s cries begin to subside. Unsettled by the sudden silence, Li paces to the living room. Expecting to find her son in his playpen, she shaken at what she discovers.

  “What a beautiful child,” said the soldier in a French accent.

  Her stunning auburn hair flows over a black military body suit and midnight blue armour. A cloth armband has an insignia of a magpie.

  “I always like half breeds. They make the cutest babies.”

  Li watches the woman as she cradles her child. Maternal instinct takes over rational thought and Li attempts to move closer. Casually the soldier reaches for her pistol and places the barrel of the gun against Alistair’s forehead. Li stops immediately.

  “You know, I’ll never be able to have children,” said Magpie emotionlessly. “I think if I did have a child, I would want a boy. I would not want to name him anything fancy. I would want him to live an ordinary life, with a painfully ordinary name. Sounds funny, no?”

  Li stands perfectly still, unable to move. Unable to respond.

  Magpie walks towards the playpen and places Alistair back in. Her aim moves from the child to Li. The soldier scans the room, tilting her head at a slight angle. Mannerisms that don’t seem completely human.

  “I couldn’t raise a child in New York though. Too much crime,” Magpie said mockingly, beginning to meander around the room, inspecting random objects. “Wonder where you keep it?”

  “Keep what?” Li foolishly asked.

  “Taiyi Shengshui. I hope I didn’t butcher the name. My Chinese is pretty poor,” explained Magpie.

  “It is not here.”

  A lengthy silence follows.

  The soldier walks over to the window and stares at her own reflection. Her body suit seems to absorb the little sunlight shining through. A dark arura surrounds the woman.

  Coming back from the errands Li had sent them on, her father’s men meet at the bottom of the apartment building’s stairs, both carrying a box of the same needless items. They remark on their frustration as they head up.

  Magpie's ears twitch. Their conversation impossibly heard by the soldier. She moves over towards the front door. Li watches her confused, oblivious of what has put her so on edge.

  “Do not move,” threated Magpie.

  The two of them wait. Gradually it becomes clear to Li as two voices speaking Chinese get closer and closer.

  Magpie places her back against the wall, gripping her pistol with two hands. As the doorknob turns, the soldier raises her weapon.

  Her father’s men open the door wide and are just about to tell Li that she can’t send them both on anymore errands, when they catch the look in her eyes. Before either of them can fully comprehend what is happening the door is slammed in their faces.

  Forcing the door closed with her foot, Magpie begins to fire through the wood. Each shot is not as nearly as loud as Li had imagined, though each round is nerve rattling.

  Several bullets find their way directly into one of the guard’s chest. Blood spurts out, spraying the apartment. Retaliating, the other guard pulls out his gun and returns fire.

  Gracefully, Magpie rolls out from behind the door, landing in a low stance. Ready to pounce. Her smile leaves him cold.

  The force of her charge sends them flying out into the corridor.

  Wrestling on the floor, Magpie overpowers him with ease. Pistol in hand, she begins to smash his face in. The first blow breaks his nose. The second loosens his teeth. The third almost blinds him.

  Satisfied that he is spitting blood, she climbs to her feet and walks back into the apartment. Li watches the soldier’s manic body language.

  Her approach is cut short at the sound of gun fire. They both look down at the smoking hole in Magpie’s abdomen.

  Running on adrenaline, Magpie breaks for the stairs. Regaining his strength, her father’s man picks himself up and gives chase. For every step he takes, she seems to have moved at least double.

  Knowing he is be unable to catch her, he fires off a few rounds, nowhere close to hitting her. She leans over the banister laughing. Frustrated he continues the chase.

  Proceeding cautiously, he sweeps the rooftop. At the edge of the building a black helicopter waits for Magpie. Placing pressure on her wound, she jumps on board. All he can do is watch as the helicopter begins to fly away. Magpie hangs herself out of the aircraft, casually saluting him as she escapes.

  Charles Jung

  Waiting out in the empty hall, Charles sits with his head in his hands. The first half of the hearing was tough. Much of it had seemed like mere formalities. He’d done the best he could to put across his case, though it felt like it mattered very little. The CERE have their own agenda, twisting every argument back towards Charles and his monopoly of control. For what he sees as prevention, the CERE see as an inherent threat. It is the first time he has begun to question the sanctions and regulations he imposed on the colonies.

  Loud echoing footsteps approach Charles. Bring with him the smell of good coffee, the Chairman takes a seat on the bench. Charles sits up and takes the cup. They both take long sips.

  “You did well in there. I am impressed. Perhaps there is a politician in you yet Charles,” Zhang said in Chinese, hoping that it would make it harder for people to eavesdrop.

  They both allow themselves to chuckle at the joke.

  “Do not begin to question all the good that you have done for peop
le.”

  Charles simply nods. The Chairman is left unsure if his words managed to reach him. But it does not matter, as Zhang has more important news to break to his son-in-law.

  “There is something you need to know.”

  “Have your men manged to get to Michael?” Charles asked.

  “Yes. But it is about Li,” said the Chairman.

  He lets Charles place his coffee down before continuing.

  “She is fine. Both Li and Alistair are being moved to a secure location by my men as we speak.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “Li was attacked by a soldier looking for your research. It sounds as though it was the same group who were searching your apartment in London. One of my men was killed. Another brutally beaten. But they are safe and being taken to a safe place,” he explained.

  “Fuck,” Charles exclaimed, unsure whether to scream or to cry. His leg taps involuntary.

  “If they cannot get it through legal means, they will obtain it through violence. That is what they do. That is what they know.”

  The Chairman gives him a single but firm pat on the shoulder. Taking a loud sip of his coffee, he lets out a satisfied groan. The action seems to have distracted them both from their own thoughts.

  Standing up, he waits for Charles to join him. “Are you ready to finish this?”

  Zhang does not get a response.

  “You are not a weak man. Do not behave as such now,” he scolded.

  Charles wipes away the tears gathering along the bottom of his eyelids and gets up. He fixes his glasses, then straightens his jacket. The Chairman proudly nods. From the other side of the hall a heavy door creeks open and a woman summons Charles back in.

  “Please all be seated,” the representative of the USA instructed the court. “Dr Charles Jung, thank you for your attendance today. We, the Council of the Elected Representatives of Earth, wanted to just commemorate you on your bravery today. Representing one’s self is not a particularly easy task. You have done so with such earnest conviction. Before we continue, is there anything you would like to add?”

  Charles stands, knowing whatever he says cannot change the outcome of the day. Glancing around the room, he quickly clears his throat. The press watch in anticipation. Chairman Zhang sits with his head held up high, meeting Charles’ glaze with a reassuring smile.

  Facing the CERE, Charles begins softly.

  “We have forgotten basic truths about ourselves. Humanity is fragile. We exist by fortunate coincidence. Having evolved on a planet where the prefect conditions for life forever hang in the balance. At any time, those conditions could be snuffed out. By some cosmic coincidence. A global catastrophe. Or our own carelessness. Life on Earth has been erased many times over. The planet creating its own tabula rasa for new organisms to thrive. We have forgotten that accidents cost us so much. All that we do, all that I do, is only mere perversion if it were not for the betterment of humanity. Science knows no boarders. It does not differentiate between race.

  “I arrived here today knowing that there could be no immediate resolution to our differences. Regardless, I know I have sown the seeds for change. Maybe not for my children, but perhaps for their children, or their children’s children. As the most distant colonies acclimatise to life away from Earth, they will prosper. Eventually that prosperity will force Earth to adapt. Perhaps then we can have a more measured conversation. One that does not involve a backdrop of flags. Sensationalised media. Or the hatred borne of the past. When we can finally accept that we are one.”

  “Well said,” the USA representative agreed. “Sentiments which I’m sure all of us here can relate to and hope for. As you yourself have just expressed, we seek further collaboration with you in the future. But that collaboration cannot be dictated by a single individual. We would all welcome your expertise as a key figure in the Ministry of Terraforming and Colonisation under Professor Neil Harrison. You would be given funding and an opportunity to share and develop your research.

  “All previous regulations and sanctions on colonised planets will be lifted and will be henceforth monitored by the CERE. Already existing Assemblies will undergo evaluation and those remaining will be accountable to the CERE. Industries established on colonies will continue to be regulated to guarantee the stability of forming environments. Any corporation wanting to expand their business onto the colonies will be individually assessed and will have to compile with CERE regulations that shall be drawn up in negations with the Ministry of Terraforming and Colonisation. All pre-existing colonists will be given permanent citizenship and a constitution will be drawn up protecting their human rights.”

  With that the American slams the gavel down.

  “All stand,” called the bailiff in a loud authoritative voice.

  The CERE and Harrison walk off. Charles has little care for his loss, all that he can think about is getting to Li and Alistair. Preoccupied by his own thoughts, he does not notice the volume erupting in the room. He is startled when a hand is placed on his back.

  “We should leave,” advised the Chairman.

  Charles nods.

  Exiting the courtroom, they are joined by several Chinese men in suits. They form a protective circle around Charles and Zhang. Pushing the press out of their way, they walk down through the hall towards the exit.

  A plethora of questions bombard Charles. The camera lights blinding him. Microphone are invasively shoved in his face. Outside wait even more journalists.

  Charles is unable to differentiate sound and visuals. All the voices meld into one. Faces dizzily race by.

  The car door slams behind him. Lounging back into the seat, Charles is hit with fatigue. Not even having to be asked, the Chairman passes him a dose of aspirin and a glass bottle of water. Once he swallows the pills, Zhang give his driver the signal and they speed off down the street.

  Before the Chairman can say anything to ease his pain, Charles interrupted, “Just take me to my wife and child.”

  *

  “Finger print,” the security officer demanded.

  “Sure,” replied the Chairman, placing his index finger on the scanner.

  It takes a second for the system to load his data. The officer inspects the information thoroughly before giving him the all clear. Zhang walks through the gates to the airfield.

  “Finger print.”

  Charles does as he is told.

  “Why are you travelling with that chink? He your friend or something?” asked the officer quietly.

  “Father-in-law actually,” replied Charles.

  The officer looks at him disgustedly before finally allowing him through. Re-joining the Chairman, they make their way to the two dual crafts waiting for them.

  The matte grey boats, dubbed the Grey Heron, have been designed to traverse short distances through space and to fly in the atmosphere of a planet. They look ugly, but designed perfectly for both environments. Thrusters are not just located at the back; the front ones are used to decelerate and on either side, are rotational thrusters for adjusting navigation. Efficient is how the Grey Heron could best be described.

  Standing around the boats are more of the Chairman’s men, one with bloodstained clothes and a beaten face, Michael, and Li holding their child. The second they are in sight, Charles rushes over to embrace his wife.

  Feeling an overwhelming sense of relief to see her husband safe, Li loses her strength. Alistair becomes heavy in her arms. Catching her, Charles holds them both tightly. Holding back her tears, she tries to explain what happened.

  Charles glances over to Michael to find him with his arm in a sling.

  “We are not safe here,” said Charles. “Go with your father. I’ll be along in a minute.”

  The Chairman offers to hold Alistair as they board the Grey Heron. Handing him over, Li steals a kiss from Charles before making her way to the boat.

  The two friends are left to watch as the final preparations are made. Neither of them say anything for a lo
ng time.

  Michael remembers the memory stick in his coat pocket. Holding it out in front of him, he is amused at how much trouble something so small could cause. Happy to rid himself of the danger, he places the stick into Charles’ hand.

  “You’re not coming?”

  “No,” chuckled Michael.

  “I will be back to settle things,” reassured Charles. “I’m not just about to abandon everything we have here for Shanxi.”

  Michael dismisses the remark. “You have a family. People who depend on you. That is more important than anything left for you here. Focus on them first, I’ll look after things here.”

  Charles places a hand over Michaels and holds it tight. No further words are shared between them. Neither of them want to bid farewell.

  Walking to the Grey Heron, he passes the injured guard. Too horrified to make eye contact, Charles offers a nod of appreciation. From the boat appears the Chairman. He stands atop the stairs, beckoning Charles to join them.

  Charles comes to a sudden stop. His legs unwilling to carry him any farther. Turning to face New York City, he stares out at a beautify chaotic sight. As the night descends, the pea green sky violently twists as another storm brews.

  A black and white bird flies overhead distracting him from his thoughts.

  “We had better get a move on if we want to avoid delays,” called the Chairman.

  “Right.”

  Everyone in their seats, the co-pilot goes around ensuring they are fastened in securely. He provides Li with ear muffs for Alistair to reduce the discomfort of climbing altitudes.

  With the checks complete, he returns to his seat up front. The pilots both begin to flick switches and read meters. A button is pressed and the main lights inside the boat are replaced by a dim red glow. Loud clicks echo inside the hull. The two pilots begin to call out codes to one another.

  Gradually the Grey Heron begins to tilt backwards. Ahead of the boat is a long track elevating them to a seventy-degree angle towards the sky. The electromagnetic rail sparks as it charges up.