Neon Sands Trilogy Boxset: The Neon Series Season One

by Adam J. Smith

  The thought that he might be trapped here filled his stomach with rocks.

  New Seren had highrises but they were centralised, reaching up like fingers to stroke the underside of the dome. In the suburbs near the dome’s edges were small, two-bedroom cottages, and this was where his husband awaited. Edmonds was beginning to wish he’d listened to Jerry and quit his job the moment the news came in – Let them deal with it, he said. If this is the end, at least enjoy it.

  What if it didn’t have to be the end?

  New Seren had been the first major dome built, and was the operational hub. Over the last sixty years, a further seventy domes had either landed or been constructed, spreading out from New Seren in a web of connecting roads. Ancillary domes stood constructed on cement foundations in areas of promising agricultural land, near resources that would make irrigation and general living possible. These were mostly no further than a mile or two from the highways that linked the major domes. Neon ranked second in size (though highest in population) while Burgot and Remington ranked closely behind. These were cities – metropolises even. The rest were towns and science stations, and every year a new dome was constructed, reaching ever further in terraforming conquest. Pipes shuttling water and gas and oil beneath the desert and rocks and occasional oases.

  Soon they would all be gone.

  Places like Alpha Five were being told to evacuate and seek sanctuary within one of the four larger domes in case their shielding didn’t have enough power to withstand the incoming storm, though Neon had erected a border control and was only allowing a certain number of refugees. Which was why Edmonds was here.

  After the solar flare, he, Baines, and a caravan of followers – including Birdie – travelled west to Neon. Sometimes you had to see something with your own eyes before believing what Birdie would have called the ‘scare-mongering’. So he had the solar flare to thank for that. He had to hope now that the other small domes would evacuate in time; that Neon would take more of them in, and that the dome’s energy barriers would be enough to stave off the annihilation of the human race.

  He looked up towards the stars.

  This was it now – all the ships had landed. No one left in orbit.

  How wrong they had been.

  Arcadia

  The Agridome walls rose high into the night sky, allowing the starlight to glimmer through and light the boy perched on the edge of the treehouse. He shivered in the breeze; the air-recycling unit in overtime after the solar flare earlier that day. Goosebumps crossed his skin and wrinkled beneath the hem of his shirt, sleeves rolled up. He closed his eyes as the wind teased the hair in his face, glad that he’d been inside when the air had warmed up. He looked across to the entrance, now closed, and recalled the returning Ferret with his team of road builders, all of them cowering beneath makeshift capes, exposed hands as red as apples. Safely inside, they’d collapsed onto their knees and curled into balls, huffing from exhaustion. The coats and vests fell from their heads, and Jax recalled holding his breath in horror.

  How they’d moaned.

  Faces crimson. The bald men with heads like cherries.

  Jax had been right here, in the same spot, legs dangling from the edge with Frankenstein in his lap. That book now lay on the ground below, where it had fallen, forgotten in the cacophony.

  He could still see the gurney tracks on the path, trails of mud. They led inside the inner dome of Arcadia, where the crew had been taken to the hospital for treatment.

  He shuffled backwards towards the rope ladder and descended, swinging in the breeze. He passed the notches in the bark where ladder rungs had once been nailed in, but removed. The smaller kids kept coming up with their dolls and teddy bears for foodless picnics, taking up space. With a rope ladder replacement it was a lot more difficult for them to get up.

  Leaving Jax and the gang alone.

  There were few spaces for privacy in Arcadia, so they used the treehouse often. Even if it did pong of fertiliser and dung – it was better than their dorm rooms beneath the ground.

  “Hey,” called Lani, emerging from the side of an oak tree that had spent years propagating up in space. Her shock of blonde hair with its white streak hung to her shoulders; the same as her twin, Scarlett. Only Scarlett lacked the streak – it was the only way to tell them apart. She appeared next from the other side of the tree. “There he is.”

  “Hi.” He raised a hand in greeting.

  “Told you he’d be here,” said Lani.

  Scarlett said, “Where else would he be?” and leaned against the tree.

  “This is the hottest place in town, after all,” said Jax. “Literally.”

  “In the day, maybe,” said Lani. “Got a right chill on now, though.” She hugged her arms.

  Jax moved towards them, boots squelching slightly in the off-path mulch. Light from the strip of spotlights running up the inside of the dome lit the sisters, faces half-ghosts, pale and white. Everything turned at night; the tanned turned pale, fire turned to ice, the planet revealed its true nature: this was not Earth. What they now called home became an alien landscape, their shadows lost in the night.

  Still, it was better than orbiting, breathing stale, recycled air. What’s changed? he thought. They still breathed that air.

  He had another thought, a stab to the heart. It had been better.

  “Might not be much time left,” said Scarlett. “They’re saying today was a precursor.”

  Lani added, “They’re saying when the sun comes back around, it might be bringing fire.”

  “So it’s now or never,” said Jax. He was fifteen in Earth years and the twins were fourteen – on the cusp of full-responsibility. Mr. Keogh, luckily, was pretty lenient with the rules; largely because they had built upon his trust over the years. They were teens but the opportunity for rebellion was hard to come by. They did their chores, pitched in, went to school (which were just practical lessons for vehicle and dome maintenance, things along those lines) and made little in the way of trouble.

  So Mr. Keogh thought.

  “They’ll kill us if they find out,” said Lani.

  Scarlett laughed. “I don’t know about that, sis. Bit harsh.”

  “Who’s on watch?”

  Jax began walking to the entrance. “I haven’t seen anyone. After what happened earlier, I think the threat of the outside would be enough to stop anyone heading out.”

  “Except us!” said Scarlett, stepping in line.

  “Except us!”

  Lani followed behind. “Did you see them?”

  Jax nodded.

  “Burned to a crisp some of them. Are we sure it’s safe?”

  “Until the sun comes up.”

  Silence fell on them as they stepped up onto the concrete walkway that split the boggy marsh of the ground. The tree pasture they’d just come from formed the left-side guard, while on the right, rows and rows of corn disappeared around the edge of the dome, leading towards paddy fields. At this time of evening, with the temperature low, the smell wasn’t too bad. In the daytime the smell reached epic levels of mushroom dampness, rotting vegetation and manure. It kept the smaller kids away – another reason for Jax’s choice of private location.

  The entrance door was broad and tall, made of thick metal that hung on hinges the size of his arms. A whole year of heaving rolls of hemp and hay meant his forearms had grown quite thick these past few months. He entered his keypad code into the panel on the left and waited for the red light to turn green.

  “It’s not going to work,” said Lani.

  “It’ll work,” said Jax, trying again.

  A voice flickered through the speaker. “Jax? Jax? That you?”

  That voice belonged to Mr. Osborne. “It’s me. Can you let me out?”

  “What are you doing? I was in the middle of something only to have you call me over.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to call anyone. I just need to get out for a minute. Could you privilege my pass code so I can h
ead out and get back in again?” Maybe this wouldn’t work, after all. “I’ll head on over to command and reset my privilege again as soon as I return. You can carry on doing whatever you were doing.”

  A few seconds of silence passed on the other end, before Mr. Osborne said; “What do you even need to go out there for? That storm could happen any moment.”

  Jax noticed Scarlett about to speak, but put a finger to his lips. “Not right now it couldn’t – it’s practically night time. I left a few tools out and I’d hate for Mr. Keogh to think less of me if I wasn’t able to book them back into inventory. They’ll be up in flames, along with my ass.”

  He could practically hear Mr. Osborne shaking his head. Perhaps a smile unzipping across his face.

  He added; “’Course, I could just come find you. Whip you at gyro-tennis.”

  Mr. Osborne laughed. “Not even in my prime would I beat you. Don’t make me regret this. In and out.”

  “Of course.”

  The light turned green and the sensor acknowledged their bodies up and instructed the door to open. The flat, warm air rushed past them into the Agridome – the ventilation system wouldn’t thank them for that – and they pushed through, out into the settling night. Jax’s goosebumps returned, electricity in the air. A few of the solar lights had burned out earlier, leaving a sporadic puzzle of dull yellow illumination around the dome and spreading out towards the terraforming operation a full mile away. Tarmac reflected back some of that light, otherwise isolated pockets of shrubbery and hedgerows still in infancy glowed faintly, mere impressions just further out. A warehouse storing an excess of vehicles; ploughs, harvesters, tractors and heavy farming machinery, was a large rectangular face of black against the stars above. He wondered briefly if they were going to bring any of them inside, or if they had been relegated to dust.

  “All the hoverbikes are inside,” said Scarlett.

  “We saw them bringing them in earlier,” added Lani.

  “I guess we’re on foot then. Did you bring torches?” It took a while to adjust to the outside air, less concentrated with oxygen than the domes and the once-orbiting ships. They had bade their time – up among the stars – allowing the terraforming to proceed while adjusting their air composition to slowly acclimatise. We humans love our oxygen though, thought Jax, conscious of taking deeper breaths.

  “Of course,” they said, extracting torches from pockets. Jax had his own – everyone had their own. It saved on power to keep the nightly illumination low.

  Three cones of light pointed ahead, seemingly without an end.

  “They’re saying most of the domes have evacuated now. We’re one of the last remaining ones – everyone else has gone to New Seren or Remington.” He looked across at Lani and watched the silhouette of her mouth as she spoke. “I’m not sure if we should have stayed or not.”

  “We can’t all be holed up in the same domes – what if something happens?”

  “It makes sense,” said Jax. “If we occupy as many domes as possible, speaking purely from a human race point-of-view, we better our chance of survival.”

  Lani shook her head. “I just can’t believe this might all disappear. I mean, we’ll be stuck in Arcadia. Forever.”

  “There’s a depressing thought.”

  “At least in New Seren there’d be more people. More things to do.”

  “Hey,” said Scarlett. She looked across at Lani, looking plaintive. “We’d have each other.”

  “We’d always have each other anyway,” laughed Lani, grabbing her sister’s arm.

  Jax quickened his pace, the edge of light fading away behind them where Arcadia’s grand outer dome blistered the night sky. Their torchlight sank into darkness ahead. He was conscious of a certain softness underfoot, of something that had melted and not quite kicked muscle memory into action. Tacky underfoot. Warm too, even through the rubber of his soles. Despite that emanating warmth, with every step further from the light and into the darkness, chilly fingers travelled further up his arms and down his spine. “Keep up.”

  He turned around to see the twin silhouettes skipping to remain on his heels. A light jog. He had long legs and often had to remind himself to consider others trying to keep pace with him. “It’ll keep you warm,” he said.

  “Lanky arse,” said Scarlett.

  “You didn’t have to come.”

  “And miss what might be our final excursion to The Oasis? Not a chance!” said Lani, jogging past. “What you waiting for?”

  He watched as the twins sped ahead, their torch-beams like the arms of a single sprinter, pumping for speed. Their giggles hit his face like sand as his walk turned into a run, the air against his cheeks and brow. They left their teenage counterparts behind as they chased their elemental childhood, and he laughed with them, glad of this moment that might be the last moment they’d have to feel like children.

  Journal of Lance Corporal Edmonds

  2nd March (ext), 2234

  This place… it’s so oppressive. Sheet walls of concrete and metal everywhere. Neon’s orbiting construction base really went all out. They must have had BIG plans. Must HAVE big plans – all these highrises and empty floors just waiting to be filled. I’m surprised they’re so rigorous with their immigration policy – they certainly have the space for refugees. And so righteous. It’s actually angering me a little. I wouldn’t want to live here but given the choice between possibly burning to a crisp out there in an underpowered dome, or living my days here, I know which I’d choose – and what many others nearby are TRYING to choose.

  This morning I headed down to the breakfast bar to find Birdie and the rest of the Alpha Five crew; to catch up with them and learn their status. The diner was crammed with people. It wouldn’t have been a scene too out of place in a New Seren retirement resort: round wooden tables with blue tablecloths, four wooden spindle-back chairs around each one, napkins adorning the table bull’s-eyes while forks darted about plates, clanking that punctuated the excited murmurs of fasttalk. All very quaint. As though this was a holiday. Children running around and shouting excitedly while parents failed to get them to turn down the volume. Children had no volume control on holiday – didn’t they know? And while I watched I was overcome with sadness that I couldn’t find the nearest empty chair, and hold the adjacent one out for Jerry. It had nothing to do with the Senior decor or old fashioned furniture – which Jerry would have probably quite liked – it was the vibe. That holiday atmosphere.

  Then one glance to the perimeter shattered that illusion. They didn’t wear uniform or have their guns on display but they wore military grade spec-opticles; I counted eight in total. Like, what were we going to do? Riot? Rip a hole in the fabric of their carefully constructed reality?

  It was overkill, if you ask me.

  But no-one did.

  That was one of the strangest things about today. My authority here is completely non-existent. The more I think about it, the more surprised I am they allowed any of us in.

  I spoke to one of the guards and asked to see someone in charge, and he looked at me as though this was the strangest thing anyone had ever said to him. He said, “Your request has been noted.” I said, “How?” He said nothing and tapped a forefinger to his glasses. Bastard glasses would’ve told him exactly who I was and he still treated me with the same lack of respect as he treated everyone else. Just... a void. Someone left the room and a guard followed. It quickly became apparent we were cattle.

  I walked across the room towards Baines, smiling at some children with red faces that I recognised from the day before, and sat down next to him. He tapped a soundless sonata above the table while chewing his tongue. Steam rose from hot coffee in a white mug – synthetic or real, I wondered, and asked.

  “What do you think?” he groaned. “Whole fucking place is synthetic.” He brought the mug to his lips and winced the liquid down. He said he hadn’t had a cigarette in hours, and looked it. Eyes flushed red. Bags hung low. Though that could’ve been
the lack of sleep.

  “Pain keep you up too?” I asked.

  He knocked on the table, brought his lips together in a fake smile, and nodded. “Worst damn case of sunburn ever.”

  Some children stormed a nearby table and I marvelled how quickly they were able to adjust; not just to location, but also their own pain. The sunburned of them gleamed with creamy oils where skin was exposed.

  “What do you think?” asked Baines. “This it? We stuck here?”

  “Would you care?” I asked him. “All you’ve done is move from one empty room to another for the past eight weeks.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I shook my head. I just felt hopeless.

  “I’m not worried about me,” he said, leaning in close. I could smell the salve on his skin. “What about you? Shouldn’t you be finding a way to get back to Jerry?”

  I should have been. Or at least doing more to get a status update. I gave Baines a nod and found Birdie, stuffing her face with chocolate croissants and orange juice. Watching her made my belly groan and I suddenly regained my appetite. I grabbed a slice of toast on my way over to her and contemplated a salute as I approached; a joke one, the thought bringing a smile to my face.

  Jerry’s voice popped up in my head to remind me that ‘All joking aside…’ [end of sentence]. I saw his frozen smile and mischievous eyes and felt hollow.