The Last City (The Ahlemon Saga Book 1)

by Casey McGinty

  The two of them sat on a blanket atop the western roof of the city. Mhara had invited him to join her on an observation platform to watch the multicolored Ahlemon sunset. It was muggy, but there was a pleasant breeze. The sunset was breathtaking, emanating a rainbow of colors across the entire horizon. Kane said it was more glorious than any he had ever seen on Earth. They soaked in its beauty with little conversation.

  Outside of the council meetings, their paths rarely crossed as they tended to their duties around the city. But they had come to taking turns inviting each other to meet for a meal together or for Mhara to show Kane a new aspect of life on Ahlemon, like this evening. And it was during these times that they began to learn about each other’s lives.

  “All of the land-based mammals suffered our same fate,” Mhara answered. “We considered bringing some into the suspension chamber with us, but chamber space came at a premium, and the elders determined to fill it with humans. So as far as I know, all of our land-based mammals are long extinct. The non-mammals, plant life, and water creatures were unaffected, although it appears they have suffered mutation.”

  “Like Leevee?”

  “Yes. And there are likely others. So much has evolved on Ahlemon while we slept; we have so much to discover.”

  “Did you like animals?” Kane asked.

  “Yes, very much. Many were still living in the city when I entered the chamber. I am acutely aware of their absence. It is a painful loss for our world . . . for me.”

  Kane was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, “I think you would like a dog.”

  Mhara’s interest was perked. “I know the word, but I cannot picture what a dog looks like. Tell me about them.”

  It quickly became apparent that Kane loved dogs, and to Mhara’s enjoyment, he began to tell her some of his many dog stories.

  “They remind me of a similar animal we had on Ahlemon,” she said. “We had one as a pet in our home when I was growing up. I think you’re right; I think I would like a dog.”

  “I think you’d like a Lab. Do you think it would be safe to bring some here?”

  “The harmful ionic particles have long since decayed. The Director would not have brought you here if there were any lingering danger. I believe any animal that could survive in this atmosphere and climate should be able to thrive here.”

  “So . . . if we brought a bunch of rabbits to Ahlemon, the planet could be overrun with bunnies in a few years.”

  Mhara smiled, suspecting he might be teasing her. “I do not know what a rabbit is, but I suppose what you are saying could be true of a rapidly reproducing animal. But you’re kidding me. An animal couldn’t really overrun a planet . . . right?”

  “We just have to eat them to keep them under control,” Kane said, straight-faced.

  “Disgusting.”

  They both laughed.

  “What about the colonists?” Kane asked. “The Director said your DNA structure wouldn’t allow for reproduction. I’m still trying to understand how we fix that.”

  “An affected Ahlemoni male and female cannot reproduce together. It’s as if both DNAs are dormant and they won’t wake up. But we believe that a healthy male or female DNA will awaken a dormant Ahlemoni DNA. They can then produce an offspring, and that offspring, male or female, would have a new and healthy DNA structure that could reproduce.”

  “You would no longer be a pure species,” Kane said. “You and the colonists would be the last of your kind.”

  She sighed. “I’m so tired of hearing that. It was always clear to me that it was better to have a mixed race than no race at all. When your entire species is about to become extinct, you become grateful for any chance to continue your existence.” Mhara paused, fighting back the emotions welling within her. “There is a bottomless despair that comes in knowing that you—that everyone—will no longer exist, and no one else in the entire universe will know or remember.” A tear ran down her face. “Without the hope of the Colony, our civilization would have died of despair long before a natural death could take us.”

  Kane sat on the edge of his chair, attentive. “You, your entire world, have faced a greater horror than Earth has ever known. I’m inspired by your courage.”

  Mhara wiped the tears from her face. “But will you help us?” she asked with some urgency.

  “A lot of people have already said they will stay and help.”

  “And there are many that have not,” she answered, frustrated. “We need more.”

  “Some of them can’t stay because they need to return to family or loved ones. Some can’t overcome their resentment at being here. Those who are undecided need to hear what you’ve just said to me, Mhara; they need to feel your passion. You can convince them. I can set up a meeting for you to speak—”

  “No,” she interrupted, now feeling a mixture of frustration and fear. “I mean, yes, I’ll talk to them, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  Gathering her courage, Mhara asked him the question she was most afraid to ask. “What about you, Kane?”

  He instantly looked uncomfortable. “What about me?”

  “Will you return to your friend Leslie?”

  “That was never meant to be.”

  Mhara’s fear lightened, but she was still frustrated. After waiting for a further response—which didn’t come—she said, “Let me ask it another way: Are you going to stay?”

  “Would you like me to stay?”

  “Do you want to stay?” she said, entreating him to speak honestly.

  Kane averted his gaze, clearly struggling with his own thoughts and feelings.

  Exasperated, Mhara said, “Kane McKennon, you are the bravest man I have ever met, but you are afraid of your own shadow.”

  “Yes,” he blurted out.

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes, I want to stay.”

  Mhara was speechless. She could tell that something had just shifted inside Kane.

  “And, yes,” he said again, more gently and looking directly into her eyes.

  “Yes what?” she asked softly.

  “Yes, you are the most beautiful, amazing woman I have ever met, on any planet.”

  Now she was mesmerized. How could he have turned so quickly? she thought—but it was a distant thought.

  “And, yes,” Kane said a third time, shifting his chair and taking both of her hands into his.

  “Yes what?” Mhara whispered.

  He leaned in, enough that she could feel his breath on her face. His closeness was intoxicating.

  “Yes, to you and—”

  She screamed and pushed herself back as a giant beetle with oversized pincers appeared on Kane’s shoulder. Pointing, she jumped to her feet. Kane turned his head and the beetle clamped a pincer on his lower lip. Yelping, he dropped to his knees on the sand and swatted at it with his open hand. But the beetle’s grip was strong, and it held on, dangling from his lip. He swatted at it with both hands, back and forth, until the beetle’s pincer arm finally broke and its body flew into the air. The pincer remained, locked in its viselike grip. Mhara dropped to her knees in front of him as he pried the pincer open, threw it down, and held a hand over his lip. Blood started seeping down his chin.

  “Let me see,” she said, pulling his hand away. “It’s a pressure puncture.” She picked up the pincer and examined it. “There are no ducts; it’s not poisonous. You’ll be fine.”

  “You sure? It hurts like hell.”

  “Poor boy . . . just got bit by a big, bad beetle bug.”

  “Yeah, while you were jumping around screaming.”

  Mhara started to giggle, then broke into a laugh. Then Kane started laughing.

  “Don’t you dare tell anyone about this,” he said, wagging a finger at her.

  “What should we tell them—that I accidentally bit your lip?”

  He stopped laughing, but a smile remained in his eyes. “That would be fine with me.”

  Mhara gazed at him a moment; then she took his cheek
s in her hands, leaned forward, and kissed his broken lip tenderly. “That is for saving me from the big, bad beetle bug.”

  “Mhara, I—”

  “I know,” she said, putting a finger to his lips. “Now, let’s get out of here before he comes back with a beetle army.”

  34

  Day 34

  2000 hours

  Central tower, Alto Raun

  As a part of his preparations to helm the return flight to Earth, Captain Tygert finally got to have his highly anticipated conversation with the Director about space travel. He and the Director sat in the command center atop the central tower.

  “We refer to the process of interstellar travel as a Push,” the Director began. “In simplest form, there are three components to a Push. First is navigation, calibrating the solar suspension array to exact alignment with the appropriate portal in order to reach our desired destination. Second is the suspension of atomic activity in the aligned space, which activates the portal. Third is the push of a suspended object through the portal.”

  “So, on our way out here, the suspended object was our plane and everyone inside it.”

  “Yes.”

  “But we were flying fast and trying to avoid your suspension beam. How did you get us to align with the portal?”

  “We had to coordinate our two Earth-based arrays to accomplish this. Normally we would have moved your aircraft into alignment with an array and then suspended and pushed the aircraft. In your case, we modified one array to track your plane and suspend it first. Then we positioned the second array to reach proper alignment with the portal and instigate the push.”

  “Sounds complicated.”

  “It was.”

  “But how did you hide all of that from Earth?”

  “With painstaking execution over the last hundred years. Our aircraft and arrays are essentially cloaked from your existing surveillance technology. However, we could not hide the flashes generated from the Push ignitions made from Earth, and they have been noted by several space observatories and agencies. Your scientists have been unable to identify the cause of the flashes, so they have been treated as solar anomalies.”

  “Do you think those scientists will connect the flashes to the disappearance of our plane?”

  “We will not know until we receive updated information from Earth. It is logical to assume that they will make such a connection; however, I believe they will not publicize such a theory since it is conjecture associated with unexplainable flashes in the outer atmosphere. To the masses on Earth, your plane’s disappearance will be an unsolved mystery.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. It’s a very tough pill to swallow for the families of the missing passengers.”

  “Again, my sincere apologies to you and your family.”

  “It’s OK. Nothing we can do about it now. So, tell me about that nightmare we went through going into the Push. Will we go through that again?”

  “Any object in a Push goes through three stages. Humans remain self-aware through the first two stages. Unfortunately, the experience can be extremely traumatic for a human who does not understand what is happening to them. I am sorry that you had to suffer through the stages without warning. Rest assured, with the proper preparation, the mental impact and physical reaction at reentry is easily managed.”

  “Glad to hear.”

  The Director continued. “The city of Alto Raun and the suspension chamber that held the colonists are both powered by energy collected from solar panels, ocean currents, and the thermal heat drawn from the core of our planet. However, a Push requires an extreme concentration of energy to open the portal and ignite the process, which is why we use the orbital array to pull the required energy burst directly from the local sun.”

  “So you had to build an orbital suspension array at every planet in order to return to Ahlemon?”

  “Yes. It can take considerable time to transport all the materials and build the remote array. When you add the complexity of concealing the array from the local humans, it can take as much as one hundred years to complete the evaluation of a given planet. Applying this process to each planetary system, you can see why it has taken us so long to find you.”

  “You guys have more patience and tenacity than I can imagine. But tell me, what happens inside the portal?”

  “Frankly, Captain, we don’t really understand the portal itself. We know how to activate the process, but after that, the portal’s innate physics apply on its own. However, we theorize two dynamics at play in a Push. First, under suspension, matter in front of the suspended object moves out of the way, creating a vacuum, and the atomic matter behind the object pushes it forward. In extremely simplified vernacular, it would be akin to a water hose and a vacuum cleaner working in tandem.

  “But what about the limitation of speed?” Tygert asked. “Known physics says that nothing can travel faster than the speed of light. Even at that speed it would take many years to travel between interstellar systems.”

  “You are correct. But again, that is where the physics of the portal exceeded our understanding. Let me explain the second dynamic; we believe the portal capitalizes on the movement of the universe itself.”

  “How so?”

  “Imagine that you are on Earth, doing an experiment. You are pushing a ball through a straight pipe with water. How fast is the ball moving?”

  “As fast as the water is moving.”

  “Yes, and no. Consider the rotational speed of the earth. Now how fast is the ball moving?”

  “Depending on your perspective, it’s moving much faster.”

  “Now consider the speed of the earth traveling in its rotational orbit around your sun. Now how fast is the ball traveling?”

  “I’m beginning to see your point.”

  “Add to that the speed of your solar system within its own galaxy, and then the speed of your galaxy, and so on. Again, in overly simplistic terms, we think that within the portal these movements logarithmically compound upon one another. Then, based on the planetary directive, the portal just drops the ball off at its chosen destination. The result? Within the portal you can move astronomical distances very quickly.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  “As do we, Captain. Other than the activation of the suspension wave and the alignment of the portal, the rest of the process is essentially out of our control.”

  “Director . . .” Tygert paused, then asked, “Do you believe there is a master Creator in the universe?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “This portal thing . . . it’s beyond imagination. Did it just happen, or was it designed?”

  “You refer to God, a master architect of the universe.”

  “Yeah, creator of that and humanity, I guess.”

  “Ahlemoni scientists created the Mekens. Does that make them my god?”

  “Uh, I wasn’t thinking of it that way. It probably makes them your parents. I’m talking about the physics of the universe. Did someone, or something, design it?”

  “How is that any different from my example?” the Director asked.

  “Uh . . . maybe we should have this conversation another time. Yeah . . . so, you’re telling me I don’t have to pilot the plane through the portal?”

  “That is correct, captain. You can pilot the plane into position for the Push, and then you will fly it when you arrive at Earth. However, during the Push, you will, as you say, just be along for the ride.”

  “And you have no control over what happens inside the portal?”

  “That is correct.”

  “But it works.”

  “It has every time.”

  “So it’s a faith thing.”

  “By faith, do you mean . . .”

  Tygert waved his hands in surrender. “I’m good to go, buddy. Good to go.”

  35

  Day 35

  1000 hours

  Central tower, Alto Raun

  “In five days we will send an airc
raft back to Earth,” Jhemna announced to a formal assembly of all the humans. He stood on the stage of a performing arts theater located in the bottom of the tower, the Matan council members seated in chairs behind him.

  “Due to safety concerns, we can send only one transport vehicle at a time through the portal with humans aboard. On this first flight, there will be two Colony ambassadors to represent Ahlemon’s first formal communication with the leaders of Earth. There will also be two Mekens, a builder and a sentry, who will act as representatives of the Mekens and will assist in preparations of the Earth-based suspension array for a return trip to Ahlemon. Lastly, Captain Tygert and Captain Williams will be acting captain and co-captain of this flight.”

  Jhemna glanced nervously at the Matan members gathered behind him. Thorin nodded for him to continue.

  “We will be sending our largest passenger aircraft”—he coughed to clear his tightening throat—“which has a maximum capacity of thirty-eight passengers. This leaves thirty-two places available for other passengers.”

  Murmuring arose in the crowd.

  Jhemna pressed on. “In the next four days, you need to determine who will be included in this first transport to Earth.”

  Someone shouted, “Who decided that robots should take our place? We should get priority.”

  “The Matan council—”

  “Who put them in charge?” someone else yelled.

  A more reasonable voice called out, “How long before you can make a second trip to Earth?”

  “One month, at the earliest,” Jhemna replied.

  Tygert stepped forward, waving for the crowd to quiet. Once the noise died down, he said, “We have endured a lot together, and I’m proud of all of you. I’m sorry that we have to ask you once again to make a difficult choice. I know that many of you have already made a decision to stay and help the colonists. The rest of you—anyone who wants to return to Earth—come to the front of the auditorium and we’ll have an open discussion. If you feel that you can wait another month to return, please let us know as soon as possible.”

  Tygert groaned as a throng of people started moving to the front of the room; there were far more than thirty-two. As captain, he had agonized over the thought of leaving any of his passengers or crew on a strange and hostile planet. While he knew this discussion would be painful, he was confident in his decision to return to Earth on this first flight. Kane’s recent lecture rang in his head: “You don’t have a choice. You have a wife and two young kids who need you. End of story. You don’t need any other reason to go. And as captain, you’re the best person to explain what happened to us. Don’t worry about those of us staying behind; I’ve got it covered. Go.” Tygert comforted himself with the thought that he hoped to return to Ahlemon a year from now.