Jubilee Year

by Gerard O'Neill

  “That's not fire,” Michael gasped. “I never thought it would ever...” Then it was that he realized the terrible sight before them, and he fell to his knees, shouting in Arabic his fear and exaltation.

  “Allah Akbar. Allah Akbar!”

  46

  The Shimmering

  The dark swirling core of a single empty eye stared back at Earth. The tiny star invisible to all but the most advanced telescope sat on the edge of the world. Its massive invisible mantle, an effect of the starlight behind it pulled into its great gravity sink, extended outwards into the vacuum of space for hundreds of thousands of miles.

  If it were possible to gaze upon the core, all that could be seen would be a small ball surrounded by captured starlight. A pip seed compared to the size of the Moon. The closest depiction of its image produced by humanity was the black stone of Mecca. Ebony black set inside swirls of silver.

  “Where did the Sun go?” Sergeant MacKay cried out in dismay. One part of him wanted to run until he found a hole and crawled into it. Oh, he was trying so very hard to maintain a grip on reality.

  “It's still there, but now so is its twin,” Michael replied. “We have two stars, not one!”

  “Two stars?” MacKay asked in bewilderment. “They would have told us...”

  “They even managed to hide its approach from our telescopes!” Michael murmured, unable to take his eyes off the shimmer.

  “How can they do that?”

  “They control what we know and what we see,” Michael told him.

  “There's the cause of climate change for you! They turned the sky into a giant movie screen so we wouldn't see it. Now it is so close they are unable to hide it.”

  MacKay could feel his reality tearing at the margins, and he turned to the scientist.

  “I know you! You're the director at Siding Spring, but you were supposed to have died in the fire.”

  “I was the director and the only one to escape alive. I can tell you that it was a team of assassins that killed my colleagues and detonated bombs that burned down my observatory.”

  “What's happening?”

  “Our sun has a twin. A tiny collapsed star. The Dark Star has returned on a visit. As it comes closer to the Sun, it draws off its energy. Eventually, the twin completes its swing around the Sun. By then our star will have lost so much energy its light will fade out for a time. The Dark Star will shoot back into space and take its orbitals with it. When it's far enough away the Sun will come back to life.”

  “And, that’s it?” MacKay asked, staring at Michael. He was waiting for the astronomer to reassure him the world was not going to end on that day.

  Michael shook his head. “I expect we are going to have a pole shift. A global catastrophe. The surface of the planet will change drastically in a very short time,” Michael said. “We are lucky to be alive now. To have the chance to witness such an important moment in the history of our planet.”

  Cameron was the first to come to his senses, and he seized his opportunity. He snatched the rifle from the boy's hand before Storm could resist. As it happened he was focused on the sight before them. The two stared at the terrible rip and what it had revealed.

  “Pen, this is not right,” Franchette whimpered to her daughter.

  Penny was standing beside her mother, but she was unable to find the words enough to answer.

  Aunty Wanganeen reached a hand out to Summer, gripping the girl's shoulder. “The old one has returned,” she said, staring up with her eyes wide.

  Deep below the surface of the Australian shelf came a sickening crunch. Seconds before the quake struck them, they heard it racing toward them with the sound of an approaching train. The ground slammed up, knocking them to their knees. It fell away, only to rise once more with the ferocity of a bull bucking an unwanted rider.

  The RV lurched backward and one wheel sank into a newly torn crevice. The momentum of the moving front end forced the vehicle to hop sideways, twisting panels and popping rivets.

  The soldiers lay flat on their stomachs until a couple of minutes passed and the tremors grew smaller in size and number.

  “Soldiers, on your feet!” MacKay called out. “Anyone hurt?”

  “Okay here, Sarge.”

  “All good here, Sergeant.”

  Cameron ran over to the sergeant's side. “Sarge?”

  MacKay snapped at him. “Get everyone in the vehicles. Carter and Fudgeface can escort Jones to my truck. You take the civvies with you and whatever from the unit you can fit in the Bushy. I'll take the rest.”

  Cameron nodded. “Yes, Sarge.”

  “You have a couple of kids in Brisbane, don't you?”

  “Sarge?”

  “Brisbane's too far away, Corporal!” He said and slapped Cameron on the back. “It's about time you thought about a visit home.”

  Cameron stared in dismay at the sergeant. Then, he took a deep breath to pull himself together. “Okay,” he shouted to the troop. “We're moving out!”

  He walked over to the soldier lying on the ground. “Get on your feet, man.”

  Jones had his arms outstretched. “Oh, Lord Jesus,” he cried out, his face lifted to the visage above.

  “Jones, you can get up. Jesus won't be coming down today. Tomorrow maybe, but not today.”

  But Jones was not listening. He cried out louder for his deliverance.

  “I said, shut up!” Cameron bellowed. “That's an order!”

  “My God, my savior. I am your humble...” Jones shouted up at the torn sky.

  Cameron prodded the man with the toe of his boot. It did no good. He looked around at his team. “Sergeant wants everyone in the Bushies. Now!”

  A soldier stepped forward. “Corporal, what about the civvies?”

  “They're coming with us.”

  “In the Bushy?”

  “That's right! And Carter…”

  “Corporal?”

  “You and Fudgeface help Jones into the back of Sarge's Bushy. The two of you stay with him until you arrive back at base. Until he's been seen by a medic.”

  “Got it, Corporal.” Carter shouldered her rifle. Relieved at the thought she would be joining the rest of the company.

  She picked up Jone’s gun. “Come on then,” she said to the soldier on the ground. She slipped a hand under Jones's arm, looking up to find Murphy. “Hey, Fudgeface! Are you helping me or not?”

  Murphy tore his eyes from the dark shimmer and nodded his head.

  Storm and Darren crouched beside Matthew as he examined the RV. All of them trying hard not to catch another glimpse of their new night sky.

  “We could just drive out, couldn't we?” Storm asked. “It's a four-wheel drive, after all.”

  Matthew stared at the rear wheel suspended over the gaping space. He dropped to one knee and peered under the vehicle.

  “That lot isn't going to give us any help,” he said.

  Matthew kept his voice low. “You heard them. They want us to get in their trucks. They will take us to their camps. Stuff that! What do you think is going on with the sky?”

  “I think they just chose to just reveal everything by pulling back the curtain. Like a grand reveal,” Storm said. “Martyn told me they wouldn't be able to hide it for much longer.”

  “If that was controlled then it must be a really awesome version of shock and awe!” Darren said, his voice shaking.

  “Yeah,” Matthew muttered. “That's what it is for sure. It’s nothing less than shock and awe.”

  MacKay was struggling to digest all he had been told about the new world. “We'll make the base in no time,” he reassured Michael. “Don't worry.” It wasn't in MacKay's nature to be anything other than optimistic, but the words came out with more conviction than he felt.

  Michael never blinked. “We are going to Wingari.”

  MacKay frowned. “To Wingari?”

  “That's where we are going,” Michael said squaring his jaw.

  Sergeant MacKay searched the astronome
r's face for a sign the man might be suffering a breakdown. How could anyone remain sane under the circumstances? Instead, he saw only balance and determination. “What's in Wingari?” He asked.

  “A cave system going deep into the hills,” Michael replied.

  “Are you certain it's a cover-up?”

  “They didn't tell us anything, did they?” Michael said. “Yet they've had years to prepare.”

  “I heard we can put a hologram up there,” MacKay said. “Probably, but that up there is no hologram. It's real.”

  “You are saying they wouldn't warn the Army?”

  MacKay asked incredulously. “I am damned sure they would tell us! I don't see the Red Army pulling back from the battlefront! It has to be a projection.”

  “We haven't got time to argue,” Michael told him with a shake of his head. “You and your team can follow us. If you want to do that.”

  “Do you think we'll be getting another meteorite shower?” The sergeant persisted.

  “That's an entire star system that's invaded our own,” Michael replied. “At its center is a tiny star of immense density that is really going to screw with this planet the closer it gets. The real threat comes from its immense magnetic influence on us. A few hot rocks are nothing compared to the sudden Earth changes we will face. And then there's its effect on the Sun!”

  “How's it going to end?”

  “For most of us—not well. We all need to be underground, and right now!”

  “What supplies have you got in the camper?”

  “There's water, food, medicine, and other critical stuff—like a water purifier. There are gas stoves to cook with...”

  MacKay stared at the group gathering by the crippled RV. He had made up his mind.

  Michael and Storm watched Cameron's team transfer their supplies from the camper van into the back of the Bushmaster.

  “Looks like we're in the hands of the Army now,” Michael muttered.

  Storm turned to Michael in alarm.

  “It's not so bad,” Michael said, doing his best to reassure his young friend. “As it turns out, their arrival should work out to be a good thing for us. The corporal is taking us to Wingari in his truck. That way we should have a better chance of arriving in one piece.”

  He watched the troops load his group’s belongings into the back of the Bushmaster.

  “Let’s hope it works out that way,” Storm said and he gritted his teeth. He was probably looking at the same soldiers that had rounded up the people of Coona and put them on the train.

  47

  Road to Wingari

  The sky had reconstituted itself once more into a ceiling of undulating dark cloud. The sunlight seemed paler now. The day had become one long twilight.

  It all looked so goddamned wrong.

  The driver of the Bushmaster switched on the headlamps. He could see well enough, but there was no accounting for the driver of the other vehicle that might be traveling in the opposite direction. They might be old, or half blind, or simply in a terrified state of mind. Better to give them fair warning a troop carrier was hurtling their way rather than having to stop to scrape them off the road.

  Darren was focused on the radio. He was sure someone, somewhere, was on the airwaves. Eventually, he was going to find them.

  Storm watched Darren switching through the channels. His concentration was diverted from the road ahead just long enough time for him to miss the Bushmaster’s brake lights flash on and off.

  “Look out!” Penny shouted from the back.

  Gravel spun up from the Bushmaster's tires as it swerved on the verge of the highway struck the ambulance like the sound of lead from a shotgun. Thick white dust billowed in front of Storm.

  “I can't see,” he cried out. “Shit—hold on!”

  He braked hard and sent the ambulance into a slide. Finally, they came to a juddering stop.

  Storm sat behind the steering wheel, staring into the dust rolling over the front of the cab. He turned in his seat and saw Penny sprawled against the back doors.

  “Pen!” He shouted. “Hey! Are you okay?”

  She sat up with a groan, rubbing her head and staring with surprise at the blood on her fingers.

  Storm clambered over the front seats and fell on his knees before her.

  “Easy, Pen.”

  Darren had walked around the back of the ambulance. He swung open the doors and climbed inside. Without a word, he crouched beside Penny and looked her over. Then, he lifted her chin with the tips of his fingers and stared into her eyes.

  “The pupils are equal in size. She's probably not got concussion!” He said. He began parting her hair.

  “Hey!” Penny cried out as Darren continued his search for the wound.

  “Don't worry,” he told her. “I know what I'm doing.”

  He got up and rummaged about the back of the compartment until he found what he needed inside a paramedic kit. Then scrambling back to Penny he set about cleaning her head wound.

  “Is she okay?” Cameron asked, peering through the open doors of the ambulance. The look of concern on his face was real.

  “She hit her head,” Storm told him, avoiding Cameron's gaze. He felt his cheeks redden as he realized how close he had come to ramming the ambulance into the truck.

  “That's going to need a stitch,” Darren told Penny.

  “No, really—I'm okay,” she mumbled.

  Darren had already ripped open a plastic envelope. He shook out the contents into the palm of his hand. A needle and suture. “Don't worry this won't hurt!” He informed everyone.

  “How many times have you done this?” Storm asked.

  Darren didn't look up as he sprayed the wound from a can of antiseptic. He paused when Penny yelped, then he pushed the point of the needle into her scalp and pulled the suture through. In minutes, he was finished. “I saw them do this at the hospital so many times—I knew it would be a piece of cake,” Darren informed them when he finished admiring his work.

  The corporal nodded his approval. “Good job!” He turned to Penny and snapped at her. “You are lucky your injury wasn't worse. You weren’t strapped in back here.”

  “Yes, I am!” She said, and she glared at him. “Why did the truck stop suddenly like that?”

  Cameron pointed his finger. “We got a problem up front.”

  “Don't worry, I'll watch her,” Darren told Storm as Cameron walked away. “You go and take a look if you want.”

  Aunty Wanganeen and Franchette were watching from the back of the carrier.

  “What happened,” the old woman asked.

  “I'm not sure yet,” Storm replied. “I'm going to take a look.” He saw Franchette was looking a little brighter. Perhaps all she needed was more encouragement. “Penny hit her head,” he told her. “She's okay, but she might be happy to see you.”

  Penny's mother didn't move, so Storm tried another tack. “You might want to take a look at her, just to be sure.”

  Franchette needed no further coaxing. “Help me down from this thing,” she told Storm as she got to her feet.

  They stared down at the gaping crack in the bitumen that stretched from one side of the road to the other.

  Keech, a young gunner lay on his stomach and peered down into the crevice. He turned his head as to follow the beam of the flashlight in his hand. “It's three and a half feet, as best as I can tell. We could try filling it.”

  Cameron was crouched beside a front tire of the Bushmaster. His gaze was focused on the edges of the torn road. The bitumen was moving even as he watched. “It's still growing in width and depth,” he muttered. “We need to fill it with whatever we can find, and we're going to have to move quickly.”

  “You want shovels, Corporal?” Keech asked.

  “What do you think?” Cameron replied with an edge to his voice. He glanced across at Storm, Matthew, and Michael looking on behind his men.

  “You lot can help as well. The sooner we are back on the road again, the better. I
'm sure you all agree.”

  The ground continued to move and the gaping crack widened even as they shoveled gravel and earth into it. By the time the corporal was ready to call it quits, most of the dirt they threw in had vanished. The Bushmaster could make it across, but the ambulance with its smaller tires needed another solution. They decided to dig out the bank allowing the tires on at least one side of the vehicle to roll over the gap. A plank found in the back of the Bushmaster served as a bridge for the tires on one side.

  Storm climbed back inside the ambulance and inched it forward. He kept his eyes on the road ahead to keep the tires in a straight line. He was too close to the bank. The side mirror tore off before he realized it had made contact.

  “Be careful with her!” Darren exclaimed.

  “You watch your side, and I'll worry about mine!” Storm snapped. “A broken axle can't be repaired.”

  “Not much can be anymore,” Darren muttered and stuck his head back out the window.

  Taylor watched Storm's progress in the rear vision mirror. He held his breath as he saw the side of a tire run off the board and bump into the crevice. It was with a certain grim fascination that he sat and waited for the inevitable.

  But that didn't happen.

  Instead, the ambulance lurched forward, the tire rolling out of the crevice. Storm gave Taylor a thumbs up.

  “You tin-ass bastard,” Taylor muttered. He turned to Corporal Cameron who was riding shotgun beside him. At least, the corporal did have control of the cannon mounted on the roof. “He must have some Irish in him, ya think, Sean?”

  “The kid's either very lucky or as cool as ice,” Cameron replied. “I'm picking it was dumb luck.”

  Taylor gazed up at the cloud cover ahead as they picked up speed. He hated the look of the sky, and he dreaded the return trip. He was only too happy to not go back to the camp. If the civvies knew of a safe place, then he wanted to be there too. If that meant spending days, deep underground in a cave until whatever was above passed over. He was fine with that.