After the Fall- The Complete series Box Set

by Charlie Dalton

  “How long have you been practicing your little speech?” he said.

  “Until just before you came in,” President Andrews said with a cheeky smile. “How was it? I felt it was a little rushed.”

  “Oh, it was inspiring,” Graham said. “Very moving.”

  Graham sighed.

  “I’m not going to bullshit the American people, John,” he said. “You of all people should know better than to spread a rumor of this level. You remember the last time a president attempted this.”

  “I hate it when you bring up Clinton,” President Andrews said.

  “I can’t falsify the results,” Graham said. “All I can do is run the tests, leak some information that’ll lead to rumors.”

  President Andrews grinned and clapped Graham on the shoulder.

  “That’s all I wanted,” he said. “You run the tests, my friend. And I’ll take care of the rumors.”

  8.

  GRAHAM jolted awake. He flinched, a twisted muscle in his back protesting against the position he’d fallen asleep. He groaned. His eyes felt like they’d been stuffed with sand. He blinked. The candle by his side was low, held upright in a puddle of hardened wax.

  He turned from the dwindling flame and towards the barricaded door. The pounding hadn’t stopped. Sometimes it was a powerful insistent thud, other times lackluster. But it was always there.

  The barricade trembled. Dust drifted from the gap in the doorframe.

  Graham stiffened. Something had kicked the Rages into a frenzy. The door wouldn’t last forever. It was only a matter of time before they got in. Every breath might be his last.

  Then the pounding began to lose its vigor. Graham sighed and turned back to the dying candle. It illuminated his remaining provisions. Half a tub of peanut butter, a crust of hardened bread, and a few tins of fruit. Hardly a boast-worthy horde.

  Sunlight streamed thin slits through gaps in the blankets taped against the windows. Dust and motes hung suspended in mid-air, shimmering within the sunlight. Wads of notebook paper littered the floor beside empty tins of tuna.

  Graham pushed himself up onto his feet with a grunt, lower back still giving him grief. He glanced at his final scribbled sentence. Those were times of hope. How wrong they’d been.

  He moved to the bathroom with a cup. The cistern lid sat on the floor. He dipped his cup into the water that remained and drank with shallow sips.

  Graham looked up and saw himself in the mirror. His reflection was a shadow of the man he’d been. Ethereal, like he was fading. A reckless result of cold weather, shrinking resources, and shriveling hope.

  His skin clung to his sharp cheekbones. His dark brown hair was streaked with strands of gray that had never been there before. He rubbed his hand over the rough stubble on his chin. But what were most different were his eyes, gaunt, shallow, and full of remorse.

  The warm smile of his beloved Beatrix was an icy steel blade in his heart.

  Bea.

  His heart gave a small bump, arrhythmic. He returned to the living room and peered down at the notebook. He shook his head. No, not yet. He couldn’t bear to face those memories right now.

  He approached his food rations and began the routine he had settled into for the past few days. Count, estimate, repeat. It was getting easier with diminishing supplies. He turned back to his journal.

  Graham pressed his shaking hands against the unflinching tabletop, fighting a wave of nausea that threatened to take what little nourishment he had consumed.

  And then he cried. A few angry, frustrated tears. A beam of warm sunlight pierced the gloom and spilled across his journal. He leaned closer to discover the highlighted words.

  Make it count.

  Graham blinked at a realization he hadn’t had until now. The anger seeped from his body. He took a deep breath and counted, estimated, repeated. The process calmed him.

  He opened his journal to the first page and made a note to himself before he forgot it:

  I don’t have to last until someone finds me, just long enough to tell my tale.

  Graham returned to the last chapter he’d written. He allowed himself a small smile as he settled back into writing mode. He wrote a title across the top of the page:

  The Results.

  9.

  SEPTEMBER

  “DARCY, GO AHEAD and sanitize the station, sample BK-1155 should be ready for the next test.”

  Graham removed his finger from the mic system’s speaker button. He glanced back down at his notes as he scratched down the results. Through the glass he received a nod from Darcy’s hazmat helmet. The other men in the room cleared out the last sample, a rock the size of a beach ball.

  “We’re ready for you, sir,” Darcy said, voice crackling through the speaker.

  Graham peered through the window of the observation deck. Within the bright clearly lit room Graham searched for any errors.

  The station’s table had been wiped clean of all dust and debris, its surface gleaming within the light. Graham nodded, satisfied, before glancing up at the equipment above the table.

  The immense canon-shaped machine hung from the ceiling like a stalactite. Graham’s eyes narrowed, his finger traveling back to press on his microphone button.

  “Darcy, I think I see a spot on the emitter,” he said.

  Darcy moved, hazmat gloves pulling out sterile wipes from a container.

  “Where?” she said.

  “Near the rotator lens, just over to my left—that’s it,” Graham said.

  “Oi, boss,” a third voice said over the speaker.

  Graham glanced over curiously toward the glass room inside the lab. Through the glass, one of the men in hazmat suits waved at him.

  “Aren’t we being a bit meticulous?” he said. “It’s just dust.’”

  “Can’t be too careful, Otto,” Graham said. “Not with a machine this expensive. See anything else, Darcy?”

  “The whole thing is clear, sir,” Darcy said.

  She returned back to the room with the other men.

  “Alrighty,” Graham said. “I hope you’re all ready for this.”

  “Fire it up, sir,” the third man, Fredrickson, said with a thumbs-up.

  Graham leaned back and cracked his knuckles. He reached over toward the tech board and began pushing and switching buttons and dials with deft fingers.

  He paused as he gripped a larger dial in his palm, dark eyes peering into the monitor. The image blinked and with a twist of his hand, compressing over the surface of the examination table. The immense machine inside the lab extended with a whirring hum.

  “We’ve got fifteen seconds,” Graham said into the microphone. “Good luck.”

  As soon as his finger released the button, the trio of hazmat suits pushed out of the glass room and headed toward the stand. Otto carried a short, long box toward the station.

  They moved with practiced synchronicity. Otto opened the box, while Darcy pulled out a pair of tongs. Meanwhile, Fredrickson placed a plastic mat over the station. Otto then stepped back as Darcy pulled out the latest sample—sample BK-1156—and placed it right on top of the mat directly beneath the microscope. They were hurrying back into the glass room with time to spare.

  “Releasing the first wave of beta particles now,” Graham said.

  He paused as his eyes scoured the equipment one more time, a final check. He reached over and pressed a flat, yellow button.

  “Now,” he said.

  The machine’s hum grew in volume, peaking just as a flash of light burst from the emitter. Graham glanced down at the numbers that jumped and fell sporadically on his monitor. He didn’t have to wait long before they settled.

  “Forty-three percent dilution and dropping,” he said.

  On another monitor he saw several hundred pictures process through the computer’s programming. Several thousand scales appeared and disappeared within the blink of an eye. When he heard a soft beep at his side, Graham pressed the green button beside the one he had jus
t pressed.

  “Twenty-seven percent,” Graham said. “Twelve percent. Five percent.”

  As soon as the numbers hit zero, Graham straightened and jotted down the result in his notebook.

  “Total signs of life found on this space rock are. . . zero,” Graham said. “Surprise, surprise.”

  “Well, what were we expecting, right?” Otto said.

  “Should I prep sample BK-1157?” Darcy said.

  “Nah,” Graham said, sipping his cup of cold coffee from his desk. “That should do it for today. Sanitize the station. Then you guys are free to go. Good work today, everyone.”

  “Thanks, boss,” Darcy said.

  “Thanks, Dr. Beck!” Fredrickson said.

  “Oi, boss, you want me to grab you a sandwich from the cafeteria before I head out?” Otto said.

  “Thanks for the offer, Otto, but I’m alright,” Graham said. “See you tomorrow.”

  The crew waved to him as they filed out of the lab, chattering amongst themselves before the door shut behind them. Graham waved back as they left, heaving a great sigh once they were gone.

  Graham laid back on his chair and swallowed another gulp of cold coffee. He grimaced as he did so, shaking his head at the less than pleasant taste. He stretched and yawned, rubbing at his lower back. How great would it be to leave right now? He shook his head, rubbing his fingers over bleary eyes. Just a few more notes to go.

  Graham hovered over his notebook, taking in all the results of the past experiments. There was a knock at the door.

  “Who is it?” he asked, absentminded.

  “Me.”

  A wide grin split Graham’s face. He knew that voice almost as well as he knew his own.

  Graham hurried over, trying not to trip on his own feet as he rushed to open the door. As soon as the wood and metal swung open, he was face to face with the beautiful hazel gaze of his assistant, Beatrix LeBeau. Her dark, wild, curly hair was pinned out of her face the way he liked. Graham fumbled over his own words as Beatrix gave him a familiar amused smirk.

  “Did you find alien life today, Dr. Beck?” Beatrix said, her voice lilting with her entrancing British accent.

  Graham often wondered how her dark skin could look so radiant beneath the wan light of his office.

  “Not today, sadly,” Graham said, shrugging. “Though I can’t say the result was unexpected.”

  Beatrix’s lips parted in a smile that left Graham weak in the knees.

  “I’ve brought you the results of last week’s samples from Tampa,” Bea said.

  “Great timing,” Graham said. “I was just compiling the data from today.”

  He stepped out of the room. Beatrix fell in step easily at his side.

  “I know you too well,” she said with a giggle. “Are you done already?”

  “Not yet,” Graham said. “But, I’m due for a break. And I’m starving.”

  “A bit late for dinner,” Beatrix said.

  “Why?” Graham said. “What time is it?”

  “I’m not sure why I’m surprised,” Beatrix said, pinching her nose with two fingers. “One of these days you’re going to keel over if you don’t start taking better care of yourself.”

  “Yeah, well,” Graham said, “I’m not dead yet. Besides, I think it would do us both good if we discussed the results over a bite to eat.”

  “I, unlike you, have actual responsibilities to take care of,” Beatrix said.

  She rolled her eyes, but her smile never left her face.

  “Like managing all the insane press this whole project has been getting,” she said.

  “I am sorry about that, Bea,” Graham said. “I know you’ve been wanting to look at some samples yourself.”

  “Tell you what,” Beatrix said, bumping her shoulder with his. “We have a quick dinner and then you let me in the control room and see some of the samples?”

  Graham bumped her back, smiling widely.

  “Deal,” he said. “Although, I’ve no idea why you want to stare at a few space rocks so much. There’s literally nothing interesting about them.”

  Beatrix laughed.

  “Compared to you?” she said. “I’m sure they wouldn’t light a candle.”

  “As my assistant, you shouldn’t tease me,” Graham said.

  “As your girlfriend, I have the right to do as I please,” Beatrix said with a wink.

  Graham let out a yelp at her firm pinch to his left buttock. Beatrix snorted, her signature laugh, and hurried on without him as he picked himself back up from nearly losing his feet.

  “Hilarious,” he said.

  Back in the office, the two munched on grilled cheese sandwiches and sipped cold soda. A breath of contentedness filled Graham as they worked silently. He grinned when Beatrix’s eyes lit up at seeing a particular sample from China.

  “What about the samples we’ve received here?” Beatrix said. “No luck at all?”

  “About as much as you’d expect,” Graham said, heaving a sigh. “You know how the machine works, right? It sends several images of different kinds of rays through the sample and then to the computer.”

  “Yeah, I’m aware,” Beatrix said. “Beta-waves, X-rays, Gamma, and even Ultra-violet, right?”

  “It’s a precarious machine,” Graham said. “Since there are so many kinds of waves we use it isn’t safe to be inside without the appropriate protection. Still, it’s not one hundred percent secure, so people still have to get regular checkups. It’s the most redundant piece of technology because you could literally put a sample under a regular microscope and find just about the same results as you would with this thing but, you know. Spare no expense.”

  “Still, it has to be pretty exciting, right?” Beatrix said.

  “Tedious, if I’m being totally honest,” Graham said.

  Beatrix looked unconvinced.

  “Oh come on,” she said. “You can’t find the silver lining in all this?”

  “Sure, sure,” Graham said, shaking his head. “I guess being in a room next to a machine that emits enough radioactivity to turn me into the Hulk could be pretty exciting to some. But here I am, bored and obviously not green.”

  At Beatrix’s dubious expression, Graham heaved a great sigh.

  “You won’t be happy until you see a sample, is that it?” he said.

  “Yes,” Beatrix said.

  “Well, damn it all if I can’t make you happy,” Graham said, slapping a hand to his knee as he motioned her closer. “Come here.”

  Beatrix’s chair squeaked as she inched closer. She pressed a kiss to his cheek that made him grin. Graham made a sweeping motion with his hand over the edge of the monitor. A few flicks of his wrist made the holographic monitor stir to life. Beatrix let out a small noise of awe, enjoying the show of the holograph flickering to life.

  “I know,” Graham said, lips parted in a lopsided smile.

  He maneuvered his hands with swift movements as image after image skimmed past. Graham prepared to choose an image at random, but froze when he spotted something off.

  “Hold on,” he said, frowning.

  “What is it?” Beatrix asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Graham said, swiping again, this time in the opposite direction, slower.

  The roulette of images spun in a blur as Graham watched with razor sharp focus. The moving images slowed to a stop as soon as he found the anomaly that had caught his attention. Graham flicked a wrist and made expanding motions with his fingers. The image with the strange detail popped up before his eyes.

  Graham’s frown deepened.

  “Sample BK-201,” he said.

  He made a few motions to separate the file and opened it within an enhanced screening program.

  “What?” Beatrix said. “What do you see?”

  Graham didn’t look at her, too immersed in his search. Once the picture appeared, Graham began to switch between the different filtering displays, going through the ultraviolet purple, into green gamma.

  “There
,” he said, zooming in and spotting the irregularity he swore wasn’t there before. “Do you see that?”

  “See what?” Beatrix said.

  Graham’s teeth sunk between a section of his lower lip, tongue clicking against his teeth.

  “That,” he said.

  When he pointed, Beatrix let out another small gasp.

  “Graham,” she said. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Graham edged a little closer, lips moving with silent mutters. There, over the dark surface of the fist-sized sample, was a strange glow that hadn’t been there before.

  Graham’s fingers turned. The image zoomed in until he could see closer. He blinked, seeing strands of what looked like computer code. What looked like DNA.

  Life.

  “Oh my God,” Graham said.

  “No,” Beatrix said. “I think God had nothing to do with this.”

  “We did it,” Graham said. “We actually did it!”

  He wrapped his arms around Beatrix and danced in a circle.

  “Life!” he said. “There’s life beyond our world! This is going to change everything!”

  10.

  “I STAND before you, with a question.”

  The State of the Union conference room was filled to bursting. Camera lights flashed and pens jotted notes furiously, all eyes focused on President Andrews. Behind him, the proud American Flag hung still and undisturbed.

  The tension was almost suffocating, making Graham fidget with the collar of his shirt. He couldn’t help but sweat behind the curtains where he hid. It was amazing John could speak so smoothly, calmly, fully in control, while Graham struggled to even keep his heart rate even. It was no small task what John was doing. He was doing more than just addressing the nation. This was a speech to the entire world, to the limits of history.

  “A baffling question,” President Andrews said. “One that has had scientists and wise men alike squabbling for centuries. The question itself is a part of our very nature. Not only about our past, but a peek into the future of our species.