The Mammoth Book of Best New SF 24

by Gardner Dozois

  Michael had been talking to himself, but even so, Gerry reacted. His face seemed to take on a rubbery texture. “Everything just came apart. First, the weather went to shit. Then came plagues, one after another. And not just people. Birds. Cattle. Sheep. Wheat. Beans. There was about six years where you couldn’t get a tomato unless you grew it yourself. Even then, it wasn’t much better than fifty-fifty. Oaks. Sequoias. Shrimp. Government would figure out how to make tomatoes grow again and every maple in the county would fall over and rot. They’d get a handle on that and the next thing you know somebody had engineered a virus that lived in milk. Why would anyone ever do that?” He shook his head. “Figured that one out after a couple of million kids. Right after that, the corn began to wither. We got a strain of corn that would grow and a tidal wave comes roaring over the East Coast. Boston, Providence, and New York go under water.”

  He stopped and sat up. He pulled out his bandanna and wiped his eyes. “If I believed in God, I’d go out and kill a calf on a rock or something. We sure as hell pissed him off.” Gerry sighed. “Ah, musn’t grumble.” He sipped his beer, composed again.

  Michael stared at him. Maybe Gerry did this all the time. “So,” began Michael after a long and awkward silence. “We should cross here?”

  “That’s true. I’m pretty much the only game in town. But that’s not my point.” He pointed over the river at the opposite shore. “That’s Kentucky. Or what’s left of it. Things have been falling apart for a long, long time. I was sitting on my boat twenty years ago when the big rush came down the river that took out the two bridges. I could see it coming, a fifteen-foot wall of trash and debris rolling down on top of us. I had just enough time to pull Encantante into the creek downstream behind the oak bluffs when it washed over Metropolis and scoured everything between us and Cairo. Back then we still had people living here, so we were able to clean up and rebuild over a couple of years.” Gerry chuckled. “My little ferry business picked up because nobody was going to rebuild the bridges – we were still in a crisis at that point. It hadn’t become a disaster yet. Not enough people had died.”

  “Where did the water come from?”

  Gerry shook his head. “Never really figured that out. Was it just the Smithland Dam that let go? Or did one big flood start way up the river and then take out all the dams one by one on the way down? I do know that flood is what took out the two dams downstream from here and when I did go up to look at Smithland, there wasn’t much left of it. I came back. Then, about six years later, I loaded up a boat I had with all the fuel I could find and went up nearly five hundred miles to see what the hell was going on. It’s not like you could trust anything you heard on the radio. I only knew what had happened here. I didn’t turn around until I reached Cincinnati. There wasn’t a bridge or a dam left standing the whole way. This was before the earthquake. Maybe somebody blew them up. It was a big mystery until other things sort of overshadowed it. But you let me wander away from my point again.”

  “Hey, it wasn’t my fault.”

  “My point is that now the only thing that keeps what’s on the Kentucky shore from coming over onto this shore is that river.”

  Michael shook his head. “So? What’s over there that’s not over here?”

  Gerry shrugged. “Things. Big lizards, sometimes. Maybe a crocodile or two. Big animals – I haven’t seen any elephants. But I might have seen a tiger.”

  “Yeah, right.” Michael snorted. “Pull the other one. A mountain lion, maybe.”

  Gerry shrugged again. “When we put dams and bridges across the water, cars and buses weren’t the only things that crossed. Now the dams and bridges are gone and what lives on the other side stays on the other side. It’s not going to be as easy to get over here as it was before.”

  “We crossed the bridge in Saint Louis. It was just fine.”

  Gerry pulled his pipe out of his pocket along with his pocket knife and began cleaning the bowl. “Maybe things can’t cross up that far north. Maybe the Mississippi keeps things from crossing west just like the Ohio keeps things from crossing north. Maybe I’m just having old man hallucinations. But I know what I saw. There are things that live on that side of the river I don’t see on this side. You cross the river and they’re sure as hell going to see you.”

  Michael didn’t look at him. “That’s where she has to go. She just can’t get food up here in the winter.”

  “What did you do in Saint Louis?”

  “The Zoo kept us alive. But it’s gone now.”

  Gerry sighed. “She’s a pretty animal. I guess there’s no animal on earth so noble and beautiful, and just plain big, as an elephant. But it doesn’t belong here. Jackie should be in India.”

  “I can’t take her to India.”

  “I know that.” Gerry hesitated. “Maybe it’s time to cut her loose.” Michael stared at the decking. He didn’t know what to say.

  Gerry pointed across the river. “Tell you what. You and I take her across the river and let her off the boat. Maybe she’ll work her way south. You come back here with me.”

  Michael looked at him, trying to see if there was some hint of Uncle Ned in his face. He couldn’t tell. Michael was in no particular hurry to repeat that arrangement. “I don’t know.”

  Gerry finished tamping the tobacco in the bowl and lit his pipe. “You know that soybean field I sent you to up on the hill? It’s a pretty field, isn’t it? The soybeans are one of those perennial varieties popular about fifteen years ago. When I was a kid that was a toxic waste site with a lot of mercury and cadmium and toxic solvents. Don’t look at me that way. That was years ago. It’s safe enough for her now. Anyway, you know how they reclaimed it?”

  “No.”

  “It was pretty neat, actually. They took some engineered corn. Corn pushes its roots deep into the soil – as much as ten feet in some varieties. This corn pulled up the metals and concentrated them into the kernels of the ear. It discolored the kernels. Some were silver, some were bright blue.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Anyway,” continued Gerry. “Because of the metal concentration, the kernels were expected to be sterile. Most of them were. But coons attacked the field and ate some and got sick. So that was one problem they had. Crows pecked at the ears and got sick. That was another. Bits of the ears were dragged by various animals a ways away. Turned out some were fertile after all. They took root and started growing over data lines. The plant couldn’t tell the difference between a heavy metal being cleaned up in a waste site or a similar heavy metal in a computer underground.”

  Michael stamped his feet. “What are you talking about?”

  Gerry stared hard at him. “I don’t know what’s across the river. I’m saying it could be anything.”

  “What? Killer corn?”

  Gerry snorted. “Of course not. But if people can rebuild corn and it escapes what else could they have done? Crocodiles to control Asian lung fish? Killer bees to control oak borers? I know what lives around here. I live with it every day. I know things are different across the river.” Gerry calmed himself. “You take your elephant across the river if you want to. But you’ll come back and stay here with me if you’re smart.”

  Jackie was waiting for him in the afternoon shade. A vast section of the soybean field had been leveled and she looked well-fed for the first time in several days.

  Michael looked around. “Tasty?”

  Jackie looked at the field. “Pretty good.” Her belly even seemed a little swollen.

  “How much longer until we get to Hohenwald?”

  Jackie shook her head. “Couple of weeks, I hope.”

  “And Florida?”

  “If we go to Florida, I expect we’ll get there midsummer.” Michael thought for a moment. “Do you know the date?”

  “It’s the first of May.”

  “May day,” said Michael slowly. “That’s six weeks.” Jackie looked at him with one eye. “So?”

  “Could you get there faster if
you weren’t carrying me?”

  “It wouldn’t make any difference. I could only go faster if I didn’t take the time to keep fed. But I can’t afford to starve myself. Not now.”

  “How come?”

  “Never mind.”

  “You’re hiding something.”

  “So what? It doesn’t concern you.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” shouted Michael, surprising them both. Jackie stepped back. For a moment she stood, arrested, one leg raised ready in defense, three solidly on the ground.

  “Are you going to squash me for shouting at you?” Michael shook his head in disgust. “I was better off with Ned.”

  Slowly, Jackie eased her leg down. She turned and silently walked over to the pond in the middle of the soybean field. Michael watched as she pulled up water and splashed it over herself.

  Dear Mom,

  I don’t think Jackee will ever like me. I guess I was fooling myself. She’s an eleefant. She hates me because I’m a person and people did things to her and other eleefants.

  Gerry wants me to stay here with him. He has a good thing here. Metropolis has a power sorse so he can stay warm for a long time. With everybody gone, the left over preserved food will be good for years. There are some wild crops here, too. Ned never had it so good.

  Jackee doesn’t need me. Most of the stuff Ralph packed was for me. I could rig a bag for her to carry around her neck for the stuff she has to have. That ought to be enough. And it’s not like I’m holding stuff for her to read anymore. Whatever she found back at the Zoo must have been all she wanted. She hasn’t been interested in anything but going south since.

  When I told this to Jackee she didn’t say anything for a while. Then, all she said was, Suit yourself.

  So, I guess I’ll be staying in Metropolis.

  love, Mike

  Gerry waited at the ferry while Michael walked with Jackie back up to the soybean field. Michael decided he didn’t want Gerry to know about her. It felt safer to keep everything quiet. Jackie followed his lead silently.

  Michael kept glancing at her as she ate, trying to see if she had any regrets he was staying here. Her elephantine face was inexpressive but her movements were short and abrupt. Could she be angry at him for staying? Or just impatient to be on her way?

  When she was done, he slung the makeshift bag around her neck so she could reach it and led her back down to the dock. She stepped gingerly onto the metal floor of the ferry. There was plenty of room and even in the strong current, it only swayed slightly.

  Gerry cast off without comment and angled the ferry upstream into the river. Michael felt the powerful motor bite into the current and the entire craft hummed. But he could not hear the motor itself, only the churning of the propeller.

  Gerry caught his expression. “Quiet, isn’t she? Electric motor.”

  He pulled up the hatch. Michael saw a roundish cube with the shaft coming out connected with thick cables to a cylindrical device.

  “That’s the motor,” Gerry said pointing to the cube. “That’s power storage.” He pointed to the cylinder.

  “A battery?”

  “They called it a fuel coil when I bought the boat. Not sure how it works but it holds about forty hours of power. These days I charge it up from a little turbine I dropped off the dock. Don’t need to use the boat that much. For longer trips I can charge it from a big fuel cell I can carry with me.” He dropped the hatch with a clang and returned to the wheel.

  The Encantante passed the main eddy line and entered the center of the river. Gerry stepped up the motor and angled the Encantante more steeply. The ripples and twists in the current caused the boat to shift and slide a little. Not enough to make standing difficult but enough so Michael noticed. It made him grin. Jackie looked around nervously.

  Then, they were across the main river and nearing the far side. Gerry eased off the throttle and dropped the Encantante below a bluff jutting out into the water. Again they crossed a strong eddy that made the ferry jump a moment. The water grew calm and Gerry brought Encantante to the dock.

  Michael led Jackie off the ferry and stood with her for a moment in the middle of the road. He looked east, judging the vegetation. There was plenty. The forest was thick on the other side of the road and he could see the break in the trees signifying a field. Jackie wouldn’t starve.

  Turning away from Gerry so he couldn’t see, Michael pulled the atlas out of his jacket.

  “Here. You walk down here to Interstate 24 and take it south. Then take Highway 45 to Benton. Once you get to Benton, hunt around until you find Highway 641. Take that to Interstate 40, east. Then — ”

  “You’ve been over this. A lot.”

  “Well, I wrote it down. There’s a leather holder I made for you. It’s tied to the belt and the directions are in it along with the map book. I drew it all out on the map so you wouldn’t get lost.”

  “Thanks,” said Jackie shortly.

  Michael nodded and stuffed the atlas into the bag. “You take care of yourself.” Jackie watched him as he walked back to the ferry. Michael felt his eyes sting. He looked back.

  Jackie was only a few feet away. Something shook the brush on the far side of the road. Before he fully registered what it was, he was running at it, yelling at Jackie to back away. Gerry tried to grab him but Michael ducked under his hands.

  It raised its thick body high on its legs and ran toward Jackie, its mouth open and narrow as a snake’s. Lizard? Crocodile? He ran past and stood, screaming, between them.

  The thing stopped, closed its mouth and stepped back only so long for a long tongue to slip out and back. Then it lunged forward and grabbed for Michael. Michael danced back but it grabbed his leg and shook him off his feet, then raised its claws over him.

  Michael heard trumpeting. Jackie’s leg came down on its midsection. The creature ruptured and blood and meat spewed across the road. Its jaw opened reflexively and Michael scrambled back. Jackie stamped on it until it was nothing but a flat, smeared ruin. Then she looked at Michael.

  Michael smiled at her. She leaned over him and wrapped her trunk around his leg. He looked down and saw the blood and felt nauseous.

  “This will hurt,” she said. She wrapped her trunk around his leg and squeezed. For a moment, Michael couldn’t see or breathe.

  “Gerry!” Jackie shouted. “Get over here and pick him up!”

  Gerry ran over to them and as he lifted Michael by the shoulders, Jackie lifted his leg. The pounding in his leg seemed to drown out everything.

  Back in the ferry, Michael looked around. He must have blacked out a moment for they were now deep in the middle of the river. He felt sleepy.

  “Don’t you go away on me,” said Jackie, kneeling next to him. “You stay here. Michael—”

  Michael wanted to say he was sorry but he was as light as smoke and he drifted away.

  Part 2

  It was all light and dark for a long time. When things were lighter he slept in a brown haze as if he were swimming in honey. He was warm and safe. Occasionally, he was convulsed with pain. He couldn’t tell where the pain was coming from exactly. Sometimes it seemed to come from his neck. Other times, his leg. Sometimes he was riven by pain that seemed to come from nowhere.

  This went on, it seemed, forever. Then, it grew lighter and he opened his eyes.

  He was in a room, in a bed, that reminded him of when his parents still lived. The room had a window. As then the bed had been pushed against the wall so he could look out the window. It had sheets and a blanket. He fingered them gently, wondering if he was dreaming. Outside, the sun shone. His leg hurt.

  He heard a grunt and Jackie’s head appeared in the window. She pushed it open. “How are you feeling?”

  “Sleepy,” Michael said. “My leg hurts.”

  “Go back to sleep if you want. I’ll be here.”

  Michael nodded and smiled. Her trunk hovered in the air near him. He reached up and pulled it close, a warm and bristly comfort.
He could feel the muscles tense a moment, then relax. The weight of it next to him, the grass smell of her breath, the beat of her pulse. Michael closed his eyes. He felt like he was floating in the air.

  Gerry was sitting at the foot of the bed reading a book. The sunlight was gone and it looked threatening outside.

  “An afternoon June storm,” Gerry said, looking up from his book. “June?” Michael shook his head. “It was May when we got to Metropolis.” Gerry nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “Well?”

  “Wait until Jackie gets back. She wanted to be here when you woke up. I only got her to go up the hill and eat by promising to call her if you woke up.”

  Gerry returned to his book. “Aren’t you going to call her?”

  Gerry shook his head. “It’s hard enough to get her to leave you. She needs to eat her fill. Know what you’re going to do?”

  “What?”

  “Pretend to be asleep so I don’t get in trouble.”

  Michael closed his eyes obediently. Then he didn’t need to pretend.

  It was the thunder that woke him. He started and his leg began to throb. He could see the bulking shadow of Jackie with her head in the window. Gerry had rigged some kind of awning over the window so at least her head wouldn’t get too wet. Michael didn’t like it. That was his job.

  Gerry entered the room with a hissing lantern. He set it on the side table and moved the curtains away.

  “There, you see? Let there be light.”

  Michael tried to reach his leg but he was too weak. “Can you rub my leg? It really hurts.”

  Gerry looked down.

  “Michael,” Jackie rumbled gently. “You need to be brave.” Michael didn’t like the sound of it. “Am I going to die?”

  “No,” said Jackie somberly. “The dragon bit your leg. We couldn’t save it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It got infected,” said Gerry. “It got so bad we thought it was going to take you with it. So, it had to go.”

  “Go?” Michael shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

  “Gerry had to cut off your leg,” said Jackie.