by Saxon Keeley
“I am sorry to hear.”
“Don’t be. Help yourself to a glass of wine.”
“With pleasure,” Michael said, pouring himself a modest drink. “Three sons. If I didn’t know you better I would say time has made you a better man Charles.”
“I’m not so sure about better. Increasingly weary and suspicious would be a fitting summation.”
“That’s what having three boys will do to you,” said his old friend, scooping up another large mouthful.
“Did you ever manage to settle down?” asked Li.
“No,” Michael admitted, amused by her question. “I almost had something for a time, but work got in the way. Hence the ‘professor’.”
“I’m sorry to hear.”
“Yeah, me too. Seeing what you have here, you two look happy.”
Charles and Li share a smile, and Michael is overcome with a deep sense of loss. Not allowing himself to become emotional he turns to their grandchild who is finishing off his meal.
“You, young sir, have very good taste. This Chinese is the best I have had since I last travelled to China. To be honest, thinking about it, this is much better.”
Though pleased by the compliment, Alexander is distracted by the mention of China. “What is Earth like?”
Taking a moment to formulate his answer, Michael decides to be honest with the child.
“If we were on Earth right now, in my flat having dinner, we would look outside the window to see a night sky with a funny green tinge. Earlier in the afternoon the sun would have been blocked out by a sandstorm swept up by the winds and carried across half the globe. Then, if it were to start raining, anyone wanting to nip to the shops would have to wear protective clothing just in case the rain falling is acidic, able to burn your skin. Beautiful flowers and plants like the ones in the gardens outside, struggle to grow in the contaminated soil. Floods destroy communities in what seems like a daily occurrence, while others struggle with thirst as lakes and rivers dry up. Earth is a hard place to live.”
“Darling, go and read a book in the living room. We shall join you shortly,” Li interrupted.
Dismissing himself from the table, Alexander wanders off looking a little upset.
“Are the CERE yet to construct a TFP?” she asked before Michael could apologise.
“It took a bit of convincing, but they commissioned the project. Though it was built to little avail. No wonder really. Without your genius behind it, the TFP was always doomed to failure.”
“Was it under Professor Harrison that the TFP was set up?” asked Charles.
“No, it was under me. Professor Harrison passed away just over a year ago. One-hundred-and-two, the old fart lived longer than anyone expected.”
“I’m sorry to hear. I imagine that you two became close after we left,” Li offered her condolences.
“We worked with each other, or more like tolerated one another. But despite his ego, I think he really did want the best for humanity. We worked together to terraform planets, expanding the Charted Systems. It was a hybrid of my understanding of your theory and his own ideas. For a long time, it was successful. But upon his death the CERE got reports of two planets undergoing environmental collapse. Muspelheim and Beta Nine.”
“And so, the CERE sent you to Neo-Shanxi to drag me back to Earth so I can rescue them from their own mistakes,” Charles said callously.
“No,” Michael countered, “I’m here on my own accord to ask for your help. To appeal to a man who gave up his entire future to secure one for another people. Charles, without your help thousands of innocent people are going to die.”
Charles contends with his conflicting emotions, staring expressionlessly though his old friend.
Michael glances uncomfortably over at Li as she begins to scrape off her plate. Realising there won’t be a quick decision made, Michael helps with the dishes. Walking off into the kitchen he accepts Li’s gracious offer of the guest room for his stay on Shanxi.
With space to contemplate, Charles fills his glass to the rim and sips the wine. He watches Alexander though the crack in the door. Festering deep inside is an anger at his own complacency. He had protested so little when they closed the university denying Oscar to ever fully realise his aspirations. Silently he sat as Wesley lashed out at a system that alienates the young. What could Alexander ever possibly hope to accomplish on Shanxi?
Oscar Jung
Lingering in the air is the stale alcohol and cooked spices from last night. Staff of the nightclubs brush down the street outside their venue. Small teahouses serve warm beverages to detox all those who have only just recovered from a night of excess. Shops display their wares in the window, most of which are second hand and in need of light repair.
Carrying their own suitcases, Oscar leads his son down towards an address passed onto him by one of his wife’s many associates.
Upon arriving, Oscar realises that the block of apartments is a sober house. There is only one doorbell to the whole building. Though the plaque is discreet, this is not the first-time Oscar has visited Xuan living in one.
Apprehensive about leaving Alexander with his mother, he kneels to his son’s level.
“I think Mother should come back home while I am away, do you not agree?”
“Yes. I do not want to stay in a place like this again. All the other children are mean and the women swear all the time telling rude jokes,” agreed Alexander.
Not ever having considered what it must have been like for Alexander, Oscar is filled with remorse. Looking back at the building he offers another suggestion.
“Maybe you would like to stay with your cousins for a bit. Or keep your Grandmother company while me and your Grandfather are gone? She will get awfully lonely being in that house all alone.”
“No, I would like Mother to look after me at home.”
With a heavy heart, Oscar complies with his son’s wishes.
Before he has an opportunity to ring the doorbell, the front door opens and a gentle young woman answers. She is the sort of person born with an innate sense of goodness.
“Hello. Have you come to visit one of our residents?”
“Xuan Jung. I am her husband, Oscar Jung, and this here is Alexander.”
Letting the two inside, the woman insists that they stay in the lobby while she checks whether Xuan would like to receive guests at this time.
Taking a seat on the bench, Oscar inspects the interior. Though plain, the colours of the walls are calming. Down the corridor, a woman is making herself a drink in the kitchen. Uncomfortable with being seen, she closes the door.
Footsteps come down the stairs. The young woman from the banister waves them over. “Xuan’s room is this way.”
Leaving their cases in the lobby, Oscar and Alexander follow her up to the second floor. Turning the corner, they find Xuan waiting at the door to her apartment. Alexander rushes over into his mother’s arms. She holds her son close and covers him in kisses.
The woman disappears back down stairs, leaving the family be.
Pleased to see his wife looking healthier than the last time he saw her, Oscar waits patiently to be spoken to.
“Look at you. You look so smart,” Xuan said to her son. “Are you off to anywhere exciting?”
“We have come to see you,” replied Alexander excitedly. “We want you to come home so that you can look after me.”
Concerned, Xuan shoots a look at Oscar. She whispers something to their son and he walks into the apartment, closing the door to give his parents privacy.
“What are you doing here? Why did you bring him to me?”
“You are his mother.”
“What is this really about? Can you not see that I am trying to get clean?” confronted Xuan tearfully.
“And I am happy for you. If this was not important I would not be asking this of you.”
“Does your grandfather want you to build more trinkets for his secret army?” she dismissed mockingly.
“I
have to go to Earth,” said Oscar without breaking eye contact.
Shaken, Xuan is unsure of what to make of the information. Holding her chest, she takes deeps breaths.
“Why?”
“The CERE have requested the aid of Father. Two colonies are experiencing environmental collapse. Without our help thousands of people will die.”
“Let them die. Fuck them. Why help them? The CERE take everything from us,” she argued.
Oscar lets out a weary sigh. “Because Father has agreed to help save the colonies on the term that Neo-Shanxi is granted independence.”
“You fool,” insulted Xuan. “They will kill you.”
Hiding his own fear, Oscar offers his wife a smile farewell.
Making it halfway down the hall, Xuan chases after him. She wraps her arms around him and prevents him from taking another step.
He encases her hands in his, all the things he wishes to tell her are too painful to say. He loves her. Despite all that has happened. The fights. The drinking. The drugs. He still loves her.
“Come back to me.”
*
Greeted at the ramp, Oscar’s luggage is taken to be loaded onto the Grey Heron. At the top of the launch pad is Michael admiring the view.
Straight ahead, the streets of the Trading District seem to part, allowing for a clear path leading to the Southern Gate of the Political District. Behind that stands the Shanxi Assembly towering over the entire city. Clouds obscure the very top of the Assembly.
Oscar can’t help but feel the nerves getting the better of him.
“First time off planet?” asked Michael, not looking for an answer. “Space is like nothing you have seen before. Takes my breath away every time.”
“What are other planets like?” Oscar continued the effort made.
“Some vastly different. Others remarkably similar. It is dependent on where in the habitable zone the planet is situated, on the most prevalent minerals and whether there was frozen water beneath the planet’s surface. I guess you could argue that Delta Nine is like Muspelheim, in many respects, they are both very red looking rocks. But this planet has a milder temperature.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing Earth,” admitted Oscar. “Father always used to talk about it when I was young.”
Michael senses a sadness in his voice and changes the direction of the conversation. “Whatever you do on Earth, don’t order a beef burger or steak. I can’t image you’ve ever had much meat here on Shanxi, it won’t do you any good. You’ll be in bed for at least a week with an upset stomach.”
“Steak?”
“Oh! Let me tell you, humanity has invented the wheel, split atoms, turned light into unlimited clean energy and terraformed distant planets. But my friend, the greatest thing we ever came up with was chargrilled steak. If you ever consider the stomach cramps and the environmental damage of raising livestock a worthwhile sacrifice, only ever ask for it rare,” joked Michael.
Charles makes his way up the ramp and greets them both good morning.
“I cannot believe this young man has never had steak.”
“Don’t eat steak. It will ruin our digestive systems,” warned Charles, walking past them. “Come, let’s go.”
Climbing on board the Grey Heron, Oscar stops to look back at Shanxi one last time before their long journey across the Charted Systems. A hand is placed on his shoulder and his father gestures for him to take a seat.
Faint electrical currents hum through the dual-craft as the engines warm up. Fastening himself securely in the seat next to the window, his father and Michael take the seats opposite. The co-pilot tugs at their belts then yells down towards the cockpit. The second the co-pilot takes his place; the Grey Heron begins to elevate.
Oscar turns pale as they climb altitude. Offering a mint sweet, Michael instructs to suck on it to settle his stomach.
Banking right, the Grey Heron circles around the colony before ascending above the clouds. Directly above the canyon they gaze down at the city which pales into insignificant to the vast surrounding landscape. Even the Shanxi Assembly is nothing compared to the mountains.
Oscar jolts back into his seat as the Grey Heron accelerates through the clouds, up through the stratosphere, until there is nothing more than a thin blue line that separates Shanxi from space.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” asked Charles. “My entire life’s work. It looks so small from here.”
“No, I don’t feel like a giant. I feel small,” said Oscar.
Though he has seen the images and the research that makes terraforming possible, this is the first time he has ever fully comprehended his father’s feats. All those years of measuring margins makes complete sense to him now. Tears begin to form and before he can wipe them away, a single droplet is caught in his eyelashes.
All three of them notice their weight shift. His father and Michael undo their belts and they push themselves from their seats, and appear suspended in space. Unable to contain themselves, the three find a childish pleasure in falling through zero gravity.
Placing Neo-Shanxi between his thumb and index finger, it appears little more than a red marble.
As the distance between them and Shanxi increases, a large vessel appears before them. A ship with large shield like wings protecting a short body. The thrusters concealed in the wings dwarf the Grey Heron. Clumsily pulling himself to the cockpit, Oscar watches in amazement as the vessel increases in stature.
“Well, that puts the ship I came here on to shame,” said Michael.
“The Cyclothone. Grandfather’s transport ship,” uttered Oscar.
Docking into the starboard shield, the airlock is sealed closed while magnets hold the boat in place. Dim red lights pulsate as they wait for the chamber to pressurise.
Loud metallic clicks begin to echo through the hull. The thick metal hatch opens and a bright light shines through blinding all those not prepared.
They are brought through into an enormous hanger with hundreds of other docked Grey Herons. Engineers work hard maintaining and improving the boats. The sheer scale of the operation is something that does not escape either Oscar or Michael’s attention. Disorientating enough, the hanger does little to help as more boats are stored above them. Oscar wonders whether it is them who are on the ceiling or if it is the other way around.
“Remember, there is no such thing as up or down in space,” reminded Michael.
Drifting out into the Cyclothone, cold cuts through Oscar. Neither his father or Michael seem to be as affected by the dip in temperature. Pulling themselves along to the far end of the hanger, they climb through into a single circular passageway that stretches the full length of the wing.
Cream padding lines the walls. Crew members gracefully float through. Numerous hatches lead off to different sectors. The clinical nature of the ship reminds him of Jung Labs.
“How far are the main quarters?” Michael asked sounding rather worried.
Gently pushing himself off a ridge, Charles drifts off down the column. “This way.”
“I’ll race you,” said Michael to Oscar, slapping him on the back before darting ahead.
Having shown Michael to his quarters, Charles takes his son through to the rear end of the main body. Opening a hatch, he insists Oscar visits this particular room.
Unlike anything else on the ship, the room seems no different from something that would be found on Shanxi. Lavish furnishings with little practicality here in zero gravity. A wall of glass looks out into the void of space. A remnant of the misguided aspirations of his grandfather’s original designs. While the rest of the ship has been readjusted, this one single room has been preserved.
“Is this my room?” Oscar asked concerned.
“In a way,” Charles began. “This is where you were born.”
“This room?”
“In front of the stars,” he said with a poetic pleasure. “We were leaving Earth, on our way to Neo-Shanxi when your mother went into labour. There were no midwifes
or doctors on board at the time. There was a genuine concern that neither of you would make it. The women that delivered you were simply amazing. Zhang made sure that they never wanted for anything.”
With his interest piqued, Oscar takes a moment to let it all in.
“How dangerous is Earth for us?”
“Hopefully not at all. They need our help more than they need us dead.”
Wesley Jung
With a pistol in hand, Sun Tzu gives one of his crazed smiles. Even this far back in line Wesley feels as if it is meant for him.
Up front besides him are the other generals of the underground Neo-Shanxi Army. Carefully they inspect their soldiers.
Divided into their respective squads, they stand as a sizable force. Each one of them share a similar story. Each of them now dedicated to fight for the same future.
Squad leaders keep order as they wait for the signal. The competition is simple, to plant their flag at the summit of the largest of the Shanxi mountains. Already the colony seems so far behind them.
Raising the pistol above his head, soldiers chatter and cheer in anticipation. Yong Squad remain silent waiting for the order from Sun Ren as opposed to the gunshot. Squeezing the trigger, the sound crackles through the air.
The other squads race their way towards the mountains, pushing and shoving each other, whilst Yong Squad are left at the starting line.
The dust kicked up by the rest of the army begins to settle.
“No one falls behind. No one races ahead. If you do not reach the top, you are doing everyone else’s duties for a month. Move out” called Sun Ren.
She starts them at a slow jog, knowing how much energy they will have to conserve. In sync, they move as a unit. Already the squad can feel the incline.
Wesley stares back at Sun Tzu watching them as they pass the generals. Li Guang calls back, instructing him to play attention.
Across the hills Yong Squad march on, maintaining their pace with regular short rests. They make up for any lost time. The barren landscape leaves the squad exposed to the heat of the sun and with no shade, they must ensure they are well enough protected from the elements.
