Empty Planet

by Lynette Sloane

I asked, “But why did you tell him, it’s not like you and he were that close.”

  “I think they were,” said Anna, realising that Graham was the man Gemma had allowed to get close to her.

  Gemma turned to Anna and said, “You understand. Graham and I were lovers. I was young and impressionable and was besotted with him. He was older and I thought he was wonderful. I thought he loved me, but he only used me to find out about the programme. I don’t think he could love anyone.” Gemma turned to me, “That’s why I never let any guy get close, and this is why you can’t tell your Father or anyone else about this.”

  “You weren’t that young, you must have been nearly twenty two the day we were rescued off the dam and found out about Section. I know we all make mistakes, but that’s a pretty big one,” I said feeling aggravated and thinking, how could she have been so stupid?

  “I was sixteen when he first seduced me and we had an off and on relationship for several years. It was just pillow talk. I would never make that mistake again.”

  Anna wanted to know how her brother was connected to all this so I told her.

  “Anna you can’t say anything to David, or you could change the future. David survived the super-virus, so, with his consent, I brought him back through time to help our scientists work on the vaccination. He had caught the super-virus but his body had managed to produce the right antibodies to fight it off. Section just needed a couple of blood samples from him to identify the antibodies. That’s how they made the ‘flu jabs’ they’ve started giving everyone. If this works David has saved the world.”

  “What happened to him after he’d given the samples?”

  “He was free to go back to his own time.”

  Anna looked deep in thought for a moment then suddenly cried out, “Oh my God! No! No, he didn’t go back did he!” I wished Gemma had kept her mouth shut. “He didn’t go back because he was the old man outside our caravan that weekend.” Anna was crying and breathing quickly. I thought she’d hyperventilate so I tried to put my arm around her to comfort her, but she pushed it away roughly. Glaring angrily at me she cried, “He called me Anna-bells and I saw him die. Get away from me … I … I don’t even know you.”

  “Anna, I’m sorry, you know there’s a lot about my work I can’t tell you. It’s for your protection.”

  “Telling me I’d watched my brother die would be an exception don’t you think? Who shot him anyway?” she demanded, choked with emotion. I was silent for a moment while I searched for adequate words to explain the happenings of that night. My silence betrayed me, and Anna realised the truth.

  “I married the man who murdered my brother! For goodness sake, he’s your best friend. He was best man at our wedding.” She was nearly shouting now. She stood up. “Keep away from me, this marriage is over! I’ll have to decide what I tell Dad … and David, but I never want to see you again.” With that, she turned, grabbed her coat and ran out of the room.

  Gemma said to me, “Stay here,” and ran out after her. Right now I knew Anna wouldn’t listen to me. I hoped Gemma would be able to help her understand, but didn’t hold out much hope. I tried to put myself in Anna’s place, imagining the situation being reversed. Would I understand if I found out I’d just married the woman who had shot and killed Charlie? I told myself that in this imaginary scenario I would be forgiving, after all, the future of the human race had been at stake on that dreadful night.

  The trauma of shooting David had brought on the depression that had weighed me down for so long and nearly split Anna and me up. Despite all the counselling, I still had nightmares about that night, even though I constantly told myself I’d acted in accordance to my obligations, responsibilities, and orders. Maybe these nightmares would never leave me. Maybe they were the voice of my conscience.

  For the second time in my life I prayed to God, asking him to help Anna understand. I paced the room and sat on the sofa, then paced the room again, several times, my stomach in knots. I didn’t want to make matters worse so I resisted the urge to text Gemma to find out what was happening. Instead, I made a hot drink and paced the room again. Two hours after they had left I heard the downstairs door open. The two girls walked up the stairs and into the flat, Gemma leading the way. Anna sat as far away from me as possible staring at the carpet with her arms folded and her legs crossed. Her eyes were puffy and her mascara had run down her cheeks. She wouldn’t even look at me.

  “I’m going to leave you two alone for a while. You have a lot to talk about,” Gemma said, making her way to the kitchen. I wanted to slap her for the things she’d said earlier, but I controlled myself, concentrating on the more important task of saving my week-old marriage.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I said cautiously. “I don’t know what Gemma has told you. What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me everything that happened from the time you brought David back to natural time.” I relayed the whole story, including how he had forgiven me for shooting him. I’d seen it in his eyes. I understood why he had acted the way he had, and he understood why I had to stop him.

  “If I try to warn David, will you shoot me too?” she asked, looking up at me for the first time. “The future of mankind is at stake after all.”

  I was tired: emotionally, physically and mentally.

  “No, I won’t shoot you. I’d die first, although that wouldn’t help either.”

  Anna paused, staring back at the floor. “I’m not going to tell him … or Dad.”

  “Thank you Anna. I don’t deserve you,” I said in little more than a whisper.

  “No you don’t. You’re the clever one. Tell me: in not warning my brother about this, am I guilty of manslaughter by omission?”

  “No, Sweetie.”

  Still staring at the carpet she quietly said, “I want to leave.”

  “Ok, We’ll excuse ourselves.”

  Gemma came back into the living area. We thanked her for her hospitality and left, not immediately driving back to the guesthouse, but taking a walk around the city.

  Christmas lights hung on every shop front, with tinsel and small, decorated fir trees in the windows. We walked through the town square past the huge Christmas tree placed next to the old Black and White House. The tree lights danced in the breeze, but we barely noticed, distracted by the revelations of the evening.

  We talked most of the way, trying to work things out. Anna had to decide whether she could forgive me. We took a left turn into Broad Street, the road that, when I was younger, I called ‘Building Society Street’, because every Building Society in the world seemed to be crowded into that one street.

  Anna explained, “It isn’t just the fact that you shot David, I can understand your reasoning, although I can never agree with what you did, but you kept the truth from me. I feel that ever since that night we’ve been living a lie. I married you without true knowledge of the facts, so is that really a marriage?”

  I was still annoyed with Gemma for bringing up things that caused me to have to tell Anna about David’s death, and I was angry that I didn’t have a regular life like everyone else. Couldn’t I have been a solicitor or a teacher and have settled down with Anna and had a couple of children? If I’d been born a norm I wouldn’t have had to kill my best friend and I wouldn’t keep jumping into the future. True, the virus was coming, but I wouldn’t have known about it so I’d have been happy in my ignorance: happy like the people walking around this evening stepping out of night clubs, walking hand in hand and kissing their girlfriends in the bus shelter.

  There was a part of me that had always wanted to tell Anna about David, the future, and everything else, but I’d been forbidden to reveal anything that could change the timeline, and knowledge of the future, no matter how insignificant, could do just that.

  We reached the corner of Broad Street where the Cathedral stood back from the road surrounded by mature trees and manicured lawns. It always amazed me that parts of this grand building dated back nearly a thousand years.
I wondered how different it would look if I were to jump forward another thousand years right now.

  I’d always wanted to go inside and see the famous Chained Library and the Mappa Mundi—the famous medieval map of the world dating from the thirteenth century—but had never gotten around to it. For a moment I was caught up with the thought that if the vaccinations failed, this and every other human achievement would be lost forever.

  Anna took a left turn and walked across the pathway towards the front Cathedral porch.

  “So what are we going to do?” she asked, looking towards the large wooden doors.

  “Well it depends on you really. It depends if you can still love me and you still want to be with me.” Anna remained silent. She took a deep breath, pushed her hands deep into the pockets of her thick trench coat, and then slowly exhaled, gazing up at the dark sky.

  It was beginning to snow. The streetlights lit up the small, occasional flakes. One landed on her cheek. I looked at Anna’s beautiful blue eyes and small nose. Her light pink lip-gloss perfectly set off her full lips. Looking at her made me feel weak in the pit of my stomach. I loved her so much and wished I could rewind the evening so none of this had ever happened and we could go back to the way things had been that morning. I hadn’t wanted to hurt her.

  Her father’s words still resounded in my head, “Just look after my daughter and make her happy.”

  “I always will,” I’d replied, and I’d truly meant it, yet had broken that promise less than thirty-six hours later.

  I spoke again, “It’s entirely possible that with the success of the vaccinations, no one, or hardly anyone, will die of the super-virus.”

  “I hope that’s the case but how does that help us here tonight?” asked Anna.

  “If the human race survives, your brother’s future—the future where he lived alone on an empty planet for fifty-five years—that future won’t happen, I won’t bring him back through time and he won’t get shot. He’ll live a happy, fulfilled life on the smallholding, or anywhere else he wishes to go.”

  “But if that’s true and you don’t bring him back there won’t be a vaccination and the human race will still die.”

  “In which case I’ll bring him back and we’ll get the anti-virus. The human race will be saved and David won’t be shot because I won’t let it happen.”

  “That’s crazy,” she said.

  “It’s a time paradox,” I answered, not quite convinced myself.

  She slowly moved towards me. “Steve I’m cold.”

  “Do you want my coat?”

  “No, I want you to hold me.”

  I’ll never understand women, I thought, placing my arms around her and holding her close. She leaned her head against my chest and we stood watching the falling snow as the flakes became larger and the ground turned white.

  “Are we going to be all right?” I asked a few minutes later as we linked arms and walked back towards the guesthouse. Before Anna could answer, my tab-phone bleeped. I ignored it, waiting for her reply.

  “I hope so,” She said quietly. “You’d better check your phone in case you’re about to disappear into the future.”

  “Just a text,” I said, taking the tab-phone out of my jeans pocket. It was Gemma. It read, ‘Sorry’.

  I texted back, ‘You Prat!’

  She texted me again, ‘Can I C U tomorrow? I need U 2 C sum1.’

  “It’s Gemma,” I said, “she wants us to meet someone tomorrow. She didn’t say whom. Presumably it’s the rebel Jumper who’s off the programme.”

  “Well she couldn’t have dropped you in it any deeper tonight … I don’t mind if you go, but I’d prefer to come back down here and do some window-shopping. I need to get my head straight.”

  “Ok Sweetie.”

  I texted Gemma back, arranging to call at her flat at ten o’clock the following morning.

  Chapter 19

  The snow continued falling throughout the night, but the roads were just about passable, so the following morning I carefully drove back to Gemma’s flat and parked outside. I was a few minutes early but she spotted me through the first floor window, ran down the stairs and was standing in the open doorway before I’d finished walking up the steps to her bright red door. She wore a dark polo neck sweater and slacks, and stood with her arms wrapped around herself to keep warm.

  “I’m really sorry about last night,” she said apologetically. “Did you work things out? I hoped Anna might come with you today.”

  “I think we’ll be ok. I hope so anyway.” I paused before continuing, “She’s gone ’round town to clear her head.”

  Gemma said, “Come on up.” She nervously looked up and down the street as if to check no one was watching us, then turned and beckoned me to I follow her inside. I shut the door behind me and followed her up the stairs to the flat.

  “Is the rebel Jumper here?” I asked.

  Gemma didn’t need to answer as we’d already reached the landing, and I could see a man sitting in a chair through the living room doorway. He wore baggy jeans, a blue, chunky-knit sweater, and a baseball cap pulled down over his face, and was tapping the fingers of his left hand on the chair arm. I could make out age-spots, caused by pigmentation, on the back of his hand. I recalled my grandfather referring to these as ‘cemetery spots.’ He always joked that they came with old age and were a sign that the cemetery was calling.

  I followed Gemma into the room, my hand ready to grab the small handgun hidden my in my coat pocket. I knew Gemma wouldn’t purposely put me in danger, but last night had proved to me that she could be tricked, despite her high intelligence, so I’d brought the handgun for protection in case this was a trap or there was any trouble.

  I quickly looked around the large room, checking to see if the man had brought anyone with him. On seeing no one else I asked, “Gemma, are you going to introduce us?”

  “There’s no need for introductions amongst old friends.” The rough, shaky voice suggested the man to be in his eighties or even older. Gemma’s mystery guest took off his cap revealing his aged face. “You’ll forgive me not getting up, old age doesn’t come alone,” he said.

  I realised this was Graham Turner, the rebel leader who had kidnapped Anna and me though a vortex, taking us to his Chateau in France.

  “Graham?” I queried. Graham looked at me with distain. He appeared the way I imagined his grandfather might look, his fair hair entirely white and almost absent on the top of his head. Wrinkles lay around his cloudy, sunken eyes, and his lips appeared thinner.

  “Yes Stevie, shocking isn’t it. This is what happens to Jumpers who don’t do what Section says,” he said bitterly.

  “Well your group did want to kill everyone and destroy the programme.”

  “The Earth will sing,” he said in a sarcastic and quite disturbing tone.

  “Yea, we know, and nature will rejoice and all that,” I answered, a slight mocking tone to my voice. “So what do you want from me? It doesn’t appear that you’ve changed your mind about anything.”

  Gemma spoke to him, “Gra, you said you wanted to rejoin the programme.”

  “Well of course I do … obviously on my own terms.”

  “Which are?” I enquired. Graham painfully stood up, looking much too thin for a man of his height. He took a step towards me, looked me straight in my eyes and said, “Give Section a message. We want our youth back. Let us jump with everyone else and you have our word that we won’t kill the other Jumpers. We will live in the far distant future where the Earth sings, but we won’t repopulate the planet for anyone.”

  “I can certainly give Section the message but can’t guarantee a favourable answer,” I told him. “How can they trust the Earthsong rebels? If Section lets them jump again they might carry on their killing spree.”

  “A man’s word should be enough,” Graham replied.

  Something about the rebel leader’s expression and general demeanour made me feel very uneasy, and it wasn’t only his degenerati
ve appearance. I concluded that this man wasn’t the least bit repentant; he was clearly insane.

  I asked him, “Have you seen the other Earthsong members lately. Do they all appear as old as you?”

  “Steve!” Gemma cut into the conversation. “That’s rude.”

  “It’s Ok Gems,” said Graham, “it’s not rude, it’s scientific. Or maybe Stevie-babes wants to know if we are all incapacitated.” Knowing his new physical limits, Graham carefully sat back down in the armchair.

  “I’ll ring Section now,” I offered. Graham nodded so I took my tab-phone out of my jacket pocket and tapped Dad’s speed dial number. He answered on the second ring.

  “Hi Steve, great news. Charlie just checked into rehab.”

  “That’s fantastic. Sorry to change to subject, but I’m with Graham Turner, the rebel leader.”

  “What?” Dad was clearly shocked. “Is everything all right? Are you in danger?”

  “Yes and no in that order. He and the other rebel Jumpers want to return to programme. They say they won’t kill anyone. They’re willing to live in the distant future, but won’t repopulate the planet for Section.”

  “And they think we could trust them!” exclaimed Dad. “Keep your phone free I’m going to speak to C and will get straight back to you.”

  I looked towards Gemma and Graham in turn relaying what Dad had said.

  While we were waiting for the call Gemma asked awkwardly, “Anyone want a beer?” We both shook our heads.

  Graham said, “I’d love one but my digestion’s not what it used to be.”

  My tab-phone rang. “Steve?” It was C.

  “Put the speaker on so you can both hear what I have to say.” C didn’t know Gemma was with us and I thought it best to keep it that way. I pressed the speaker button and held the phone so we could all could hear C’s voice.

  “Turner, there’s no way we can allow any of your people to jump with the rest of the Jumpers, but we might consider allowing them to jump to a different time where they can kill each other if they want to, or live peaceably. It would be their choice. And we can’t guarantee all the aging effects will be reversed, but your people would appear younger than they do now, probably about twenty years older than their natural years.”