Keystones: Altered Destinies

by Alexander McKinney

  “It’s okay. At least it’s not ‘Birdman’ or something equally silly.”

  “I also see that you’ve upgraded to tights.”

  “Yeah, they make a lot of sense when you’re flying. Pants just aren’t made for it; they catch and pull. Tights are a lot more comfortable.”

  “Not to mention they make you look more like a superhero.”

  Sebastian chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “Our culture is a bit weird that way. I think I need to find some pockets that I can strap on for practical purposes. Not as cool, but, oh well.”

  “So, Sebastian, what can I do for you?”

  “Not much, not much. How’s the leg?”

  “It healed up perfectly. I still appreciate the lift, though it turns out I didn’t need it.” Sebastian visibly shrank at this news.

  “I didn’t want to bother you. I mean, I just wanted to check‭. . . .‬”

  Deklan was amused. The man had flown him to a hospital and still somehow thought that he was intruding on his time. “Relax. You helped me out. I thought I was going to die if you didn’t get me to the hospital. I’m appreciative. Now, why are you calling me?”

  Sebastian cracked his knuckles, betraying his nervous tension. “Because of the dogs.”

  Deklan’s lighter mood immediately vanished. Sebastian’s words served to confirm his suspicions. “There have been more attacks then?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “When I was in the ER, I was surrounded by people who had been attacked by animals. I don’t think there was a single ‘normal’ injury in there. People were complaining about scary experiences they’d had involving an animal or a new Keystone.”

  “I don’t know what to do about it,” said Sebastian.

  “Well, what you’ve been doing has been pretty admirable.”

  “Thank you.” Sebastian’s cheeks flushed at the praise.

  “Even so it’s a futile enterprise. We’re badly outnumbered, and this has only been the first couple of days. I think it’s going to get worse.”

  “Why?”

  Deklan gathered his thoughts. “The animals are going to get bolder. Right now they’re adjusting to a new reality where they aren’t as low in the pecking order as they used to be. Once they understand that instinctually, they’re going to become a more aggressive threat.”

  “You’re painting a bleak picture,” replied Sebastian.

  “Yes, but you’ve already started to figure this out, or you wouldn’t be calling me.”

  Sebastian nodded, not denying what Deklan was saying. “What are you doing about it?” he asked.

  “I’m going to Boa Vista in Brazil.”

  Sebastian put a hand to his forehead the way people do when they’re trying to remember something. “Isn’t that in the jungle?”

  “No, not since they completed an Elevator there. The city came out of its recession.”

  “An Elevator?” Comprehension lit in Sebastian’s eyes. “You’re going off planet?”

  “I think it’s the safest place to be right now.”

  “What if we fight back?”

  Deklan raised his eyebrows. “Have there been other concerned citizens helping out the way you have?”

  Sebastian’s eyes darted back and forth, unfocused as he thought back over the last day. “Not many, no.” He looked up again, relief on his face. “What about the military?”

  “It’s possible, but I wouldn’t bank on it.”

  “So you think I should go off planet too?”

  “I think it’s a good idea.”

  Sebastian tugged at one of his feathers. “How would I get to an Elevator?”

  “Fly. Just to be clear, I do mean by plane. It’s about forty-eight hundred kilometers or so.”

  Sebastian leaned back and crossed his arms. “I don’t think I can get on a plane anymore.”

  Deklan didn’t quite catch his meaning. “You don’t fit?”

  “That too. When I sit, my wings get in the way, or they need to be unfurled and off to the sides. Moreover, I’m claustrophobic.”

  “Find a cargo plane,” suggested Deklan. “I had to fly on one for a movie stunt. They’re roomy.”

  The wheels turned in Sebastian’s head before an answer came. When he spoke again, he sounded more sure of himself. “I’m going to get to an Elevator.”

  “Well, I’m headed to Terra Ring Two. If you make it up there, or down to Boa Vista, feel free to call me.”

  Deklan turned around to find his mother staring at him like a deer frozen in headlights. “Was all of that true?” she asked.

  He knew that he had to be careful not to panic her, but he couldn’t lie. She wouldn’t believe him this time. “I’m not sure how much you overheard, but the short answer is yes.”

  “You know Michael? You think civilization is going to end? You nearly died?” Her voice sped up with each question.

  Deklan inclined his head to the left and couched his response in the driest tone he could muster. “I’m distressed by the priorities indicated by the order of those questions, but yes, sort of, and no.”

  “Yes, sort of, and no?”

  “Yes, I know Sebastian, or Michael as the news has dubbed him. I expect civilization on Earth to be impacted by the events of The Sweep. And, no, I was injured, but I healed without much medical attention.”

  His mother prodded at his forearm. “You still have bandages on your arm.”

  “I’m a bit confused by that too. My serious injury healed; these scratches from Mittens have not.”

  His mother adopted the worrying tone used by parents everywhere. “Shouldn’t you see a doctor about that?”

  Deklan cast his hands into the air. “Why? What would they tell me?”

  “I don’t know, but I think you should see a doctor.”

  “I’ll see a doctor once we get to the Rings if it will make you happy. Now, please, finish packing so we can leave. You already know that I’m not leaving here without you and Dad.”

  “I still don’t know how you convinced your father to go.”

  Deklan grinned a little at the conversation that had led to his father’s capitulation. “A strong father-son relationship and a desire to do things together.”

  Tricia’s eyes roved over his face, her expression suspicious. “You’re not telling me the whole truth.”

  “I’m still not lying. Now pack!”

  Vacation Canceled

  Sitting in his apartment after his time with Derek, Jonny was startled to see an incoming contact request from his office flashing on a wall screen. Aside from Derek, no one knew that he was back early from his safari in Kenya.

  With trepidation he answered the call. Unfortunately, his apartment systems were defaulted to respond to calls in video mode.

  The face of Lacey Lyndley, his supervisor, filled the screen. A woman of striking appearance, her skin was the color of the night sky and her blue eyes akin to sapphires. Her hair, a shade lighter than her skin, was arranged in a simple braid.

  “Jonny, so good to see that you’re already back. We have an emergency, and I need to cancel your vacation.” When Lacey spoke, her directives were always issued in an even tone of voice.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Get to the office. Everyone in logistics and procurement is needed. We’re going to be pulling long days for quite a while.” With that Lacey ended the call.

  Cursing to himself, he dressed for work.

  Jonny sat at his professional-grade facilitator’s desk, which was in the shape of a parabolic arc. Set back a meter from his desk was arrayed a curving wall of screens that could be utilized as both a holographic display and a holographic interface. Jonny’s desk was one of six such stations in the office.

  Reviewing the data on his screens, he flipped through window after window of information. It was his own damn video of the rat that was responsible for the surge in his workload.

  The video had panicked not just people but entire countries. They
were turning to the Terra Rings to establish failsafe plans. The nations and business enterprises of the Rings were delighted to be of service, for a fee of course.

  Worst-case scenarios were being established, and the situation was looking more alarming as Jonny discovered the cold, hard facts.

  The entire economy of the Rings had been built on the premise that raw materials were inexpensive and easy to acquire. Ships from the Oort Cloud and intra-solar comets delivered millions of tons of refined materials. The Rings were accustomed to having a supply glut. Now, however, there was no word on the status of incoming ore freighters that Jonny was supposed to factor into his calculations. For the first time since construction of the Terra Rings, scarcity was a problem.

  Data and statistics whirled in front of Jonny on his massive screens as he tried to keep everything straight. He focused on compiling a list of the raw materials on hand, as well as the status of any ongoing orders or projects. Nations were considering the wholesale use of spacecrafts in order to evacuate, should it become necessary.

  Jonny’s firm was one of many responsible for bidding on contracts from prospective employers and finding companies on the Rings capable of fulfilling them. No organization or conglomerate now had enough spacecrafts on hand for a project like that, or the capability to produce them in the vast quantities required.

  There had been no need for a large fleet of spaceships since the pandemic, when the Terra Rings had quarantined Earth. Countries near the equator were in better shape since many of them were host to dozens of Elevator terminals. Citizens located there would be able to evacuate with much greater ease.

  Another concern was the housing of evacuees. Granted, Earth had the lowest population density of anywhere in the old solar system, and the Rings were not yet at full capacity, but two billion people represented nearly a thirty percent increase in the Rings’ demographics.

  The ramifications of an evacuation were also huge in terms of food supply. The legal, financial, and regulatory environment of industrial manufacturing on the Rings had led to an unbeatable competitive advantage over Earth. That, in turn, had led to over ninety percent of the food consumed on the Terra Rings being grown, raised, or produced on Earth.

  A chill ran down Jonny’s spine. If Earth had to be evacuated, the Terra Rings would starve.

  Day 3

  Questionable Protocols

  Derek’s lab was an impressive facility for a one-man show. There were at least half a dozen large machines whose functions Jonny couldn’t even begin to guess. He speculated that one was for cloning cows and another for teaching insects how to dance to complex music. He’d come up with these theories not based on anything like a rigorous assessment but instead on stray thoughts that somehow cohered while he was being shocked with electricity.

  Jonny lay on the floor of Derek’s lab, his muscles still twitching. When it comes to being jolted by electricity, short bursts feel much longer in duration than the actual elapsed time. Jonny wondered why he’d come back to Derek’s office for his lunch break. There had to be thousands of more pleasant ways to spend the time. Being eaten by hyenas came to mind.

  While he recovered, Derek was inputting data into some eldritch program to come up with more tests—cold water, blasts of air, unexpectedly loud or high-pitched noises. Jonny didn’t believe that all of the tests were necessary. Some just seemed like malicious recreation for Derek.

  It was already more like an inquisition than any sort of testing that Jonny had expected to undergo. Preliminary results showed no change in his DNA on any level. Nothing could explain his newfound talent for spraying Guinness around.

  “Well, I have some good news,” said Derek.

  Jonny struggled to form syllables before answering. “Are you going to share it with me, or are you just going to leave me suffering here?”

  “We’ve documented that in times of unpleasant stress you emit Guinness.”

  “You’d better have something more than that.”

  “I do.”

  Jonny waited as muscles in his chest spasmed. “And?”

  “This last time you didn’t spray Guinness.”

  “What was it then?”

  “Well, you have to understand that I did a crude analysis after some basic safety tests.”

  “Which were?”

  “I passed it through a mass spectrometer to make sure that it didn’t contain any poison.”

  Jonny felt strength returning to his arms and pushed himself to a seated position against the wall while he waited for his legs to start responding to commands from his brain. At least he could see Derek again. He never liked talking to people who could see him when he couldn’t see them. “You’re going to make me drag this out of you, aren’t you?”

  Derek held an empty pint glass aloft, the interior surface of which was decorated with traces of foam. “Then I drank some of it,” he announced.

  “I take it that was the crude analysis?”

  “Yup. It was Corona with lime.”

  Jonny looked at his hands. “You mean, I can shoot both Guinness and Corona from my hands?”

  Derek held up a finger and beamed at him. “So far.”

  “So far?”

  “All talents require development. It could be that Guinness and Corona are your limits, but we haven’t begun to test the volume that you can produce in a day.”

  “Why would I want to produce more in a day than I already have?”

  “Aside from the fact that your talent flies in the face of the conservation of mass and energy, you’ve asked me to help figure out what’s happened to you. Now we’re doing just that. I’d have thought you’d be thrilled.”

  Jonny’s leg spasms subsided to a gentle tremor. “Oh, I am, I am.”

  “Good,” said Derek. “Then this shouldn’t upset you as much.” He turned and pulled a massive needle from his desk. “I have more stimuli ready to test on you.”

  Coffee

  After a long and complaint-filled drive in the Spiro, Deklan sat with his parents and Susan at an airport gate waiting for their flight to be called.

  “Stop playing with those damn Twix bars,” said Mrs. Tobin.

  “Tricia, I love you, but leave me alone,” replied her husband, not looking up from what he was doing.

  “People are starting to stare at you,” she persisted.

  “Mom,” intervened Deklan. “Relax. How many, after all, could he have in that carry-on bag?”

  “I have a growing suspicion that they’re all that he packed.”

  Brice Tobin stopped what he was doing and turned to look at his wife and son. “What did you say?”

  “I said stop playing with the Twix bars.”

  Brice rolled his eyes, wisely doing so in a manner that allowed only Deklan to see his pantomimed gesture of exasperation. “No dear, not you. Deklan, what did you just say?”

  “Um, that there was a finite number of Twix bars you could have brought with you.”

  “Yes!” Brice looked at the pile in front of him. “I brought only ten.”

  Deklan looked at the stack in front of his father. “Well, Dad, I think you miscounted. There are at least twelve wrappers. Mom’s right, though. People are looking at you a little strangely. It doesn’t help that you’re not eating them. It just appears that you’re prepping yourself for an onslaught of gluttony.”

  “But you don’t understand! Look!” Brice held his bag open for Deklan to inspect.

  Deklan looked into his father’s bag, glanced at the pile of Twix bars in front of his father, and then reached into the bag to counting its contents. “There are still ten bars in here, Dad.”

  Both men meditated on this in silence for a moment.

  “Are you sure that you brought ten and not twenty-two?” asked Deklan.

  Brice grunted with disgust. “What sort of question is that? Ten or eleven, I could see the slip-up, but do you think that I could accidentally have brought double that number without knowing it?”

 
“I’m just making sure that you’re not pulling my leg. Why don’t you take another one out and see whether you can replicate the trick?”

  Brice drew out another Twix bar and pumped it into the air. “Success!” he exclaimed.

  Deklan reached into the bag and counted again. “Nine.”

  “What?”

  “I said there are now only nine bars in here.”

  “Give me that,” said Brice, grabbing his bag and counting. “Crap.”

  Deklan turned away from his parents and sighed. He loved them. The only problem was that they were both a touch insane. He’d been told that the condition was chronic in all people with children. He looked at Susan who was a seat down from him. “Please tell me you’d like to get a coffee before the flight.”

  “Can it be alcoholic?”

  “Let’s go find out. Mom, Dad, we’ll be back.”

  “Don’t leave me with him. People are staring.” Tricia sounded desperate.

  “Glare back,” replied her son. “My childhood memories assure me that it’s a strong point of yours.”

  Deklan and Susan sat with two cups of coffee, which they hadn’t managed to make Irish.

  “You know,” said Susan. “It’s funny. I’m following you halfway around the world and abandoning my life based on a crazy line of reasoning. We haven’t even spoken all that much since you entered my life bleeding and poisoned. What do you do? Who is Deklan Tobin?”

  Deklan laughed. “I was, and guess I still am, a stuntman.”

  Susan cocked her head. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that.”

  Deklan laughed again. “Let’s be honest. No one expects that answer.”

  “How do I know that you’re not just making up an interesting story?”

  “Fair question. Hold on a second.” Deklan tapped the bar between them, activating a dormant smart screen, and routed it to his Uplink. Seconds later the smart screen displayed a holographic replay of his stunt reel.

  “Wow,” said Susan. “So you pander to the small subset of moviegoers who care that their special effects are real?”