The Last City (The Ahlemon Saga Book 1)

by Casey McGinty

  Space. We’re in space. And those are stars streaming by.

  As the wonder of this dawned on him, Kane’s thoughts began to drift and slow down; he was being pulled into a slow-motion, dreamlike state. He considered fighting it, but it felt so peaceful. So, heaven is on the edge of the universe, and God’s taking us there in an airplane? I should have known—God is a Trekkie. Letting his internal guards down, he fell into himself, like falling into an endlessly thick down comforter. He just was, and he was at peace.

  Time and self-awareness were lost to him. If he slept, he didn’t remember dreaming. When he woke, he fully expected to see the familiar morning sun pushing through the window blinds in his bedroom. He groaned with disappointment when he recognized the white lines streaming across the blackened window. As he became more alert, he realized that the stars were diminishing in number and they were slowing down. Then, suddenly, the scene distorted and rippled as another energy wave struck.

  The stars and black of space disappeared and were replaced by a light-blue daytime sky with a canopy of white clouds underneath. Everything was still frozen in place—the plane suspended in midair, his body still immovable, his eyes locked on the window—all encompassed by the eerie silence. Then he heard it . . . his heartbeat . . . and his breathing. It came as no surprise to him when a fourth energy wave appeared in the sky. He guessed rightly what would happen next as the wave washed over the plane.

  Everything came back to life in an instant; his senses were assailed with the roar of the engines, the air blowing from the vent onto his forehead, and the screams of passengers who had not reconciled the nightmare from which they were waking. Groans and crying filled the cabin. Someone vomited. Kane was dizzy and had a splitting headache.

  “Doc, are you OK?” he asked, checking on the doctor. Dr. Manassa’s forehead was beaded with sweat.

  “Terrible headache,” he said groggily. “That . . . was . . . awful.” The doctor looked dazed until he squinted and his eyes focused on something behind Kane. “My God, what is that?”

  Turning to look out his window, Kane found a sleek, wingless, silver aircraft hovering just beyond the wingtip of their plane. In all his years of ultrasecret military life, he had never seen or heard of anything like it.

  “This isn’t heaven,” he whispered to no one in particular. “And we sure as hell aren’t in Kansas anymore.”

  2

  Day 1

  1300 hours

  An unidentified sky

  Seconds later, four of the strange aircraft hovered outside Kane’s window, and from the alarmed reactions of passengers, there were more of the same on the other side of the plane. Already traumatized by their nightmare, some passengers trembled uncontrollably, some hugged their knees to their chests, and others erupted into light hysterics. A fight broke out, including a clumsy exchange of blows.

  Kane asked the doctor to let him out, and he moved into the aisle. When he stood erect, vertigo washed over him and he had to grip a seat in each hand to steady himself. After taking a moment to recover, he whistled shrilly, a skill for which he had gained some notoriety in the military. He had to whistle three times to get everyone’s attention.

  “Everyone. Calm down. Calm down,” he said, in a commanding but soothing voice. “Eyes on me, please. Eyes on me.”

  Looking around the cabin, Kane made eye contact with those who were visibly struggling with their composure. As his gaze moved from face to face, he said confidently, “Nobody’s injured. The plane is stable. And we’re not under attack. We’re OK.” He paused, then added, “Now, take a slow deep breath with me.” He led his fellow passengers in a couple of slow inhalations and exhalations.

  With the exception of an occasional sniffle, a quiet fell over the plane. The flight attendants looked at Kane with gratitude. He leaned over to look out a window.

  The alien aircraft were slightly longer than a fighter jet and sleek, resembling a slim, elongated arrowhead. They were covered in a shiny, chrome-like metal and had no distinct wings and no sign of a propulsion system. With no windows, not even at the cockpit, Kane assumed they were unmanned. They were definitely sci-fi movie material. While the military had dreamed of advanced hovering aircraft, these were beyond existing Earth technology. But he did see something that looked familiar—their formation and movement.

  “These are escorts,” he announced to the cabin.

  “Escorts?” a woman asked, fear in her voice. “Who are they and where are they taking us?”

  This sparked a flurry of questions, and the noise level in the cabin quickly escalated. Kane whistled again and the cabin quieted.

  “I promise you, the best way to handle this is to stay calm. The answers will come. In the meantime, we need to work together, not against each other. Besides, I don’t think we’re in imminent danger.”

  “How would you know?” a well-dressed businessman yelled from the front.

  “I’m ex-military,” Kane replied. “Special Forces. I recognize these movements, and they’re not aggressive. Again, let’s stay calm and work together. Can we do that?” He nodded, then waited for the passengers to nod with him.

  “Good,” he said finally. “Now, how about we let our flight attendants bring us some drinks . . . and some aspirin.” He bobbed his head at the attendants, and they moved into action. Kane remained standing, like a shepherd reassuring his flock.

  A fifth ship appeared at the left wing of the 737 and then moved forward to the front of their plane and out of sight. It came back into view a few moments later, then veered to the left and dropped back. The same ship returned to the front of their plane and again veered to the left, only this time the aircraft just behind it also veered left. Both ships dropped back and repeated the maneuver, moving forward and veering to the left. Just then, the cabin speakers crackled and the pilot addressed the passengers for the first time since the blinding flash of light.

  “Attention, passengers. This is your captain, John Tygert. Sorry I haven’t spoken to you sooner, but we’ve been busy up here. I can’t begin to explain what has happened to us. But I can tell you that our plane is operating normally with the exception that we have absolutely no communications. And, as you can see, some very unusual aircraft now accompanies us on either side. They do not appear hostile and, based on their movements, I believe they’re trying to get us to follow them. I have no idea of our location or bearing, so I’m going to follow their lead. Try to remain calm. We are not in any obvious danger at this time. If you need assistance, please ask a flight attendant for help. I’ll keep you posted. Flight attendants, report as able. Captain out.”

  The plane banked to the left, following the lead alien ship, and the other escort ships moved with them. The flight attendants were pros, doing their job as if everything was normal. The routine activity in the cabin soon helped to settle everyone’s nerves.

  As Kane was about to take his seat, he noticed the red-haired girl, the one he had been staring at when his eyesight readjusted. She was traveling alone, and it looked like she was crying and trying to hide it. She reminded him of his younger sister, Madeline, and his big brother instinct kicked in. He whispered to the woman sitting in the aisle seat on the same row as the girl and the woman moved to a seat on another row. Kane took her place, an empty center seat between him and the girl.

  “Are you OK?” he asked.

  “What do you think?” she said, sniffling and refusing to look at him.

  “Yeah, stupid question.”

  “Sorry. I’m a bit shook up.”

  “That’s understandable. My name is Kane.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Sorry I was staring at you earlier. I was trying to get my eyes to adjust after that flash, and you just happened to be my focal point.”

  “So, you’re not some weirdo?”

  “Some of my friends think so.”

  This caught her attention and she looked at him, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I’m Charly.”

&nb
sp; “Nice to meet you, Charly. So, where were you headed . . . before our little detour?”

  A pained look fell over her face. “To visit . . . family in Vancouver . . . for an anniversary.” She shifted toward the window, her body language all but shutting down the conversation.

  Kane didn’t want to leave her alone. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

  “Fine.” She didn’t turn.

  He settled into his new seat. If nothing else, he thought his presence might give her some reassurance.

  Dr. Manassa touched him on the shoulder, looking in on him and Charly. Kane assured him they were fine, and the doctor moved on. Kane watched as the doctor knelt in the aisle next to a lady who was hyperventilating and engaged her in a conversation. Within a minute, she was doing breathing exercises right along with the doctor.

  “I’m scared,” Charly said suddenly.

  Kane turned his attention to her and answered, “Me too.”

  She looked him over. “You don’t look like the type to get scared.”

  “Everyone gets scared. The difference between people is what they do with their fear.” He glanced at the alien ships.

  Charly looked out the window and turned back, “So, what do you do with it?”

  Kane had a little speech about fear that he used to give to new recruits; it came to mind and he went with it. “I look it in the eye and ask why it’s there. Most of the time, the fear is imagined. If it’s imagined, I push it out of my mind. If it’s a real threat, I consider what I can do about it. If there is something I can do, I start doing it. If there is nothing I can do, I try to accept what is.”

  She looked at him like he was crazy. “I don’t think I can do that.”

  “You’d be surprised what you can do; it just takes some practice.”

  “How do you practice something like that?”

  Kane thought for a moment. “What are you afraid of right now?”

  “Bad things happening to us.”

  “Like what?”

  “Scary aliens. Pain. Dying. Being alone.”

  “So, let’s look at them. Are any of those things happening to you right now?”

  “No. But they might.”

  “OK, but does that make them real or imagined?”

  “Imagined . . . right now. But they could become real.”

  “But why worry about them now if they’re not true now?”

  Charly didn’t have an answer.

  “What’s true now?” he continued.

  “You mean . . . like . . . you and I are talking?”

  “Yeah, what else?”

  “We’re flying in a plane and these spaceship things are flying around us.”

  “Right. Are you in pain, or alone, or dead?”

  “No. But pain and alone are relative.”

  Kane was surprised at her response. “How old are you?”

  “Seventeen.”

  “Pretty insightful for someone so young.”

  “Wasn’t my choice.”

  Kane knew there was a story behind her words but decided to continue with his lesson. “Anything else?”

  “We’re not on Earth?”

  “I think . . . that’s true.”

  “So, why shouldn’t I be afraid?”

  Kane had asked himself the same question earlier.

  “I suspect we’ve been brought here deliberately,” he said, “probably at considerable effort. That would mean there’s a purpose to this. Looking at the collective pieces so far, my gut says they mean us no harm.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Yeah, I really think so.”

  She leaned back in her seat, wrapping her arms around herself.

  Kane settled into his seat and closed his eyes; there was no telling when he might get another chance to rest.

  “How do you know all this stuff anyway?”

  He turned his head and looked at Charly with a serious face. “I read comic books.”

  She smiled. “You are a jerk.”

  Kane grinned back. “Yeah, I know.” Then he shifted to a serious tone. “Charly, I believe I’m right about what’s happening here. Trust me for now?”

  “Yes,” she said, visibly trying to accept his assurance.

  The plane flew straight and level for another few minutes with no break in the cloud bank. Finally, the captain addressed the passengers over the intercom again.

  “This is your captain. The aircraft are descending and we’re going to follow. I want to thank you for staying calm. I hear that everyone’s doing great. Keep up the good teamwork. Speak to you soon.”

  The passengers pressed together to see out the windows as the plane descended into the cloud bank. The white fog quickly gave way, revealing a dark-blue, choppy ocean far below, stretching to the horizon in all directions.

  The plane banked left and Kane saw a small island in the distance. As they drew closer, he decided it was a man-made structure; perfectly round and several miles in diameter, it was a city-sized building sitting in the middle of an ocean.

  “Is that where we’re going?” Charly asked.

  “Looks that way.”

  Kane marveled at the engineering required to construct a structure this size, particularly in the ocean waters; it had to be sitting on massive pylons or an island. As the 737 flew directly over the structure, he saw that it was composed of two sections, an outer ring and an inner circle. The outer ring was easily a mile thick, flat roofed, and covered in sand and a mature growth of coastal shrubbery and trees. The inner circle was clear of vegetation and was slightly domed, tinted, and translucent, with broad structural latticework barely visible underneath. The design suggested a vast open space below. A giant skylight? But it had to be three miles in diameter, an unthinkable span for a latticed structure. In the very center, a cylindrical tower extended high above the roof, the top section of a skyscraper towering well over a thousand feet.

  Having completed the flyover, they began to circle the fortresslike building. Its outer wall was a dull grey, easily five hundred feet tall, sheer, and smooth except for the large, hangar-like doors at the base, dispersed regularly every half mile or so. Waves splashed against a ledge, the width of a single-lane road, encircling the building just above the water line. With the exception of the domed skylight, the entire structure was severely tarnished and weathered; it looked ancient and desolate.

  It struck Kane that there was no place to land their plane. While the roof was certainly large enough, the outer ring was covered in trees, and the domed skylight was not an option. But as they rounded the building, their landing solution presented itself; a runway-width platform was slowly extending out from a hangar, the open hangar door easily large enough for their plane to pass through. Drawing closer, he realized that the runway wasn’t sliding out from the building via some hydraulic system; it was being constructed by—

  “Robots,” Charly said.

  Indeed, unmanned machines in various shapes and sizes were in a flurry of activity on and around the runway. Flatbed, wheeled vehicles rolled out of the hangar, carrying stacks of large metal plates. At the leading edge of the runway, two barges with hydraulic arms lifted pylons from their decks and set them upright in the water. Two other barges lifted I-beams and aligned them between the pylons. A crew of spiderlike robots scampered up and down the pylons and I-beams, fastening them together to create a structural frame. Another dozen mechanical arms on treads set the metal plates on the I-beams, and the spider robots made the attachments. They worked methodically and amazingly fast; the runway was rapidly taking shape.

  While the construction robots were fascinating, Kane’s attention was drawn to a dozen robots scattered about the runway, directing the work. Encased in a smooth, silver metallic skin, they were humanoid in form, no male or female distinctions, jointed limbs, a mouth and jaw, eyes and nose, and a semblance of earlobes. Then his eyes fell on a single humanoid robot that stood just outside the hangar door, observing the overall construction activity; he
was gold plated.

  For Kane, a key question in his mind had just been answered. If these robots were designed in the image of their creators, then the inhabitants of this planet were human. This was welcome news. He looked over the passengers; if they had come to this same realization, it was subconscious. Glued to the windows, they were relatively relaxed and talking, more curious than alarmed at the scene below.

  Their plane veered away from the building and they began a tight, circular holding pattern over the water, waiting for the robots to finish assembling the runway. Kane noted that a lone alien aircraft still led them while all the other escort ships had disappeared.

  “We really gonna land on that thing?” Charly asked, tightening her grip on the arm of her seat.

  “No problem,” he said, concealing his own concern.

  On their second pass, Kane found the departed escort ships were now hovering over the water at the leading edge of the runway. Odd, he thought; they were facing away from the construction, looking out and over the ocean water. Slipping from his seat, Kane moved to where he could see out a window on the other side of the plane. Sure enough, in the distance, just below the horizon, a number of objects in the water were moving in a line and toward the building. They appeared to be gliding over and under the surface of the water, like large sea animals rather than submarines. Whatever they were, even at this distance he could tell they were big, far bigger than Earth whales. He returned to his seat next to Charly.

  “Everything OK?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. But he knew an impending conflict when he saw one—a timer was ticking down.

  Several circles later, their plane moved into a wider arc. As the captain addressed them, Kane saw half a dozen escort ships leave the runway and collectively move in the direction of the incoming water creatures.

  “This is our final approach,” the captain announced. “We’re going to land. Everyone in your seats with seat belts on now—that’s an order. Make sure anything loose is tucked up under your seat or in the seat pocket. I’m confident we can land on this runway, but I doubt it will be smooth. Remember: your seat cushion is a flotation device, just in case we end up in the water. Attendants, take a seat near the emergency exits. I will see all of you shortly, on the ground. Captain out.”