by Max Swan
The worst feeling Paul had ever known in his life was helplessness. Seeing the things he loved destroyed without any power to stop it, not understanding why it happened. Watching his life being ripped apart by the reckless and callous actions of others, whom felt no remorse for their actions. As a result of such evil, he was left feeling as empty as a desert. It took a lot to come back from that, to find his strength and humanity again. The disaster of the sludge bomb, and where it brought him had helped him more than he ever imagined. The simple urge of survival had reawakened him, invigorated him, because people needed him. So as he considered the utter helplessness of seeing six billion people face the biggest catastrophe they’ve ever experienced, he felt truly humbled.
As the shuttle headed toward the suburbs of Melbourne, Paul said to Marcus, “So where do you want me to go? Your home? The University?”
Marcus stood behind him at his right shoulder. He shuffled on the spot, rubbing his chin with his hand. “Are you still going to evacuate us?” he asked, feeling his stomach churn.
The atmosphere in the shuttle had grown somber since it took off, so he felt pretty certain he’d blown it.
“I’m not going back on my word, but since you stunned me we’ve lost eight hours, and the Garan’s will be here anytime,” Paul said.
“I’m sorry.”
Paul shrugged. “You said you had a way of communicating with many people at once. We should go there,” Paul said.
Marcus nodded. “To the University it is.”
“What about your wife and family?”
Marcus pulled out his cell phone and looked at it seeing it had signal bars. “I’ll call her and tell what’s going on.” He started to dial but stopped and looked at Paul quizzically. “Where will we pick all these people up?”
“We’ll need an oval or a park where we can land the transports,” Paul said.
“I know the perfect place, McAlister Oval off Park St. The oval will be easy for everybody to find,” Marcus said, then smiled feeling excitement.
“OK,” Paul said, and Marcus called his wife.
“Hi, Kerry, it’s me… Yes, yes, yes… Calm down, it’s going to be all right….”
*****
The University had a system that enabled them to send out a mass text message, and a system to send a mass e-mail to the faculty, staff, and students of Melbourne University, and the associated trade school also. The plan to gather refugees seemed simple enough, but they faced the prospect that no one would show up. They might think these messages are a hoax.
“You’d better not send your family to the park, in case we get lots of people showing up. I’ll get a shuttle sent to your home instead. How many will we be coming?” Paul asked.
“I’m expecting about thirty-five of my family with a few friends as well. What time do you want this to take place?”
“Tonight, say ten p.m., the Garan’s could arrive anytime now so these people have four hours to decide their future,” Paul said.
Marcus turned to the computer screen and reread the message he had sent: Invasion coming tomorrow. If u want evacuate be at McAlister Oval off Park Street, at 10PM tonight. Pack one case. This is your only chance to escape what’s coming. Places limited. Dr. Marcus Smythe. Dean Melb Uni.
He looked at Paul and said, “I hope they believe it.”
“I hope the media don’t find out about it, half of Melbourne might show up if they do. Then no evacuation will take place,” Paul said.
Even though they had translated the Garan message, and calculated the day they should arrive, the exact time could not be predicted. It suddenly seemed as if there were still so much to do, but little time to do anything. The tidal wave is in sight of the shore, and Paul hoped they could get away before it landed.
Chapter 20
Although Marcus’s family is safe on Ship, he spent his time hovering in a shuttle above Royal Park in constant anxiety. He’d be pacing the floor one moment, sitting and watching the monitor the next. Subconsciously twisting his wedding ring, sighing often, and bouncing his legs. Paul, on the other hand, had spent the time sleeping on one of the bench seats oblivious of Marcus’s suffering. Marcus would often look at Paul and think, how can he sleep at a time like this? From roughly seven p.m., a crowd started gathering at the park. As time slowly passed, more people arrived all carrying a single suitcase. He scanned the monitor searching for signs of the media or the police, but none had shown up.
The city went on as normal, unaware of what’s coming. As he watched the cars and trams busily coming and going, he felt sad. The crowd at the park kept getting bigger. Am I doing the right thing, he wondered? None of these people have any idea what they’re getting themselves into, and neither do I, for that matter. As he sat waiting, he began to have serious doubts. Who are these people that claim to be humans from another dimension, he thought? Can they be trusted? It gnawed at his mind, made worse by watching Paul sleep. Marcus worried that all they were doing is trading in one bad situation for another. Richard was right, he thought, one just doesn’t go to another planet and start a colony as if it were nothing. He knew that however similar another planet may seem to Earth in atmosphere, climate and topography, it will be different in all other ways. The life-forms having evolved under different circumstances, will be totally to anything they had ever seen. That means many dangers will be hidden from them, and these people lining up to evacuate may die a horrible death a thousand light-years from here. Is it better to die a horrible death here, he wondered, from the Garan’s? His thoughts ran in circles, making him feel more afraid as time ticked by. However, with his family already on Ship, he knew he couldn’t turn back now.
*****
At nine thirty p.m. Paul finally woke with a big stretch, followed by rubbing his eyes. He looked toward Marcus to find a pale, sweaty, and fidgety man staring at the monitor. Paul let out a soft laugh, and said, “Jesus, maybe you’d better stay in the shuttle tonight. We need to keep our cool tonight.”
Marcus pointed to the screen with emphasis. “There’s thousands of people here. How the hell are we going to pull this off?”
Paul shrugged and smiled slightly. “I warned you this might happen.”
Marcus felt as if his heart were about to explode, it beat so fast. “A crowd like this could turn in to a mob quickly. Especially the ones that realize they’re going to miss out.”
“Fuck, relax will ya, we do have a plan,” Paul said getting up and walking to the control console. He looked at his watch, and said, “Well, we might as well get started.”
Paul worked his console and activated a Y-field over a fifteen-kilometer area around Royal Park, where McAlister Oval, and two other ovals they plan to use, are located. The Y-field will stop any interference in what they’re about to do by government agencies. The Y-field also prevented onlookers reporting their activities to anyone. The buildings nearby became dark, and the street lights went out as if a power blackout had occurred. Vehicles stopped on the streets too, and the drivers got out scratching their heads, looking about confused. Some raising their hoods, to check their engines. The crowd that had gathered because of the message they’d received about being evacuated, let out a collective gasp as darkness engulfed them. Followed quickly by another gasp when the first transport appeared in the sky above them, with floodlights shining brightly, illuminating the oval and surrounds.
Transports were skinny rectangular looking space vessels. Designed to take troops and supplies to a planetside battle. Inside they had two levels, which mostly consisted of seating. The front of the transport had a cockpit sticking out, while the back had a large door-come-ramp, used to move soldiers and gear on and off it. Paul tapped his console, and checked the coordinates of several drones positioned around the area.
Outside of the shuttle, a sudden flash of yellowish light bathed the park, lasting for a second. The crowd became quiet, they stood looking at the transport blankly, suitcases poised at their sides. Paul touched his
console, and said, “Attention Ladies and Gentlemen, please move off the ovals so the transports can land.”
The message began repeating loudly across the area. People began to shuffle backward away from the ovals. Eventually, the first transport landed on McAlister oval, another on the oval next to it called Ransford Oval, and a third landed behind them on Ryder Oval. The floodlights shone from the tops of the transports, lighting the grass around them. Out of the transport on McAlister oval, Lijuan stepped out as the back ramp lowered, taking her position next to it. The one on Ransford Oval saw Captain Blake take a similar role. When the back ramp touched the grass on Ryder Oval, a tall figure stepped out, Colonel Nadir.
“What the fuck?” Paul cursed as he recognized the Keeper.
Under general order one-hundred and eleven, Keepers are not permitted to leave their Ship, except in a safe port. Paul got his cell and dialed. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he said before Nadir could say anything.
“You needed help, so here I am,” Nadir replied calmly.
“What happened to your ultimatum that you’ll leave without us?”
Nadir didn’t reply immediately. Being here is against everything he believes in, but he knew sometimes a commander has to bend for crew morale. He decided the evacuation proposed by Paul is one of those times. “I’m doing this so we can get out of here as fast as we can. It has nothing to do with your outburst yesterday,” Nadir said.
Paul didn’t buy it. Maybe the old fossil has a heart after all, he thought. “You had better cover your face, it may scare the natives,” Paul quipped.
Nadir disappeared for a moment and returned wearing a full-face combat helmet that completely obscured his face. “Is that better?” he asked.
Paul chuckled. “Yeah, a big improvement.”
“That’s enough of that.”
“All right, I’ll send the first lot to you, pack them in the aisles. Once you’ve got as many as you can squeeze inside that transport, get back to Ship,” Paul said. He ended his call to Nadir and touched the console again. “Attention ladies and gentlemen, any tradespeople, or those doing an apprenticeship through Melbourne University TAFE. Please move calmly to the transport on Ryder oval. Please take your family members with you,” Paul announced.
The modified stun wave had worked well, and people calmly cooperated with Paul’s broadcast instructions. Refugees walked to their transports not speaking, not looking around, and blankly staring ahead as if they were in a trance.
Paul announced again, “Ladies and Gentlemen, could all Melbourne University Staff and families please make your way to the transport on McAlister Oval. While any Melbourne University students and families, please proceed calmly to Ransford oval.”
The message repeated several times.
The console pinged, and Paul touched it saying, “Go ahead, Li.”
“Some of these staff members look old, are you sure you want them on a colony?” she asked.
“The staff, yes, as they’ll need some smart older people to govern them in the early days. Once they’re loaded though, cut-out anyone more than forty. If they won’t comply, stun them.”
“This evacuation is a damn cruel process,” she said.
Paul felt a lump in his throat. “We can’t save them all, Li. We have to think of what’s best for the colony.”
“Understood,” she said unhappily cutting the connection.
Paul sent the message to Blake and Nadir about cutting out people more than forty, except staff, and fully qualified tradespeople.
Once the staff were loaded, Paul directed students to go to the transport on McAlister oval as well. After forty minutes, Nadirs transport lifted off straight into the sky, and returned to Ship. Another transport landed in its place, so did the shuttle next to it. Paul positioned himself next to the open rear ramp of the transport, and spoke into his cell announcing over the area that the transport is ready to board. Refugees began walking toward them. Marcus ran up the park road to look at the other transports.
Lijuan called him fifteen minutes later. “My transport is full.”
“OK, get on it and go back to Ship. Thanks for helping.”
“Sure, Paul… don’t forget the Garan’s.”
“How could I forget them?” Paul asked.
“OK, good luck,” and she ended the call.
As Paul’s transport reached half full, Marcus appeared next to him again.
“The transport on Ransford oval is full, and Captain Blake is going,” he panted having run from there.
“You should have left with it,” Paul said shaking his head.
“No, I’m here until the end,” Marcus said looking Paul in the eyes.
Abruptly Paul reached over and grabbed a woman who looked about fifty, and pulled her out of the line telling her to stand with a small group of other stunned looking people one hundred meters off to his right. She blankly obeyed, and as she walked to the group, Marcus watched her, loudly letting out his breathe.
“At least you don’t make me stand with them,” Marcus said watching the old woman take her place.
Paul looked at him eyes narrowed. “If it wasn’t for Berlin you would be, just remember that.”
Marcus swallowed hard and blushed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be hard on yourself,” Paul said.
“I know,” Marcus said.
Paul’s cell beeped, and he answered, “Fox-one receiving.”
“Fox-one, the snake is at the door. I repeat, the snake is at the door,” an alarmed sounding Dexter said.
“ETA?”
“At their current speed, ninety minutes. Colonel Nadir orders you outta there now.”
“That’s plenty of time, land the last transport on McAlister Oval.”
“But Colonel Nadir…,” Dexter began.
“Is not commanding this operation, I am. Land the last transport, we need to get as many people as we can if this colony is to succeed,” Paul demanded.
Dexter hesitated. Paul listened to his cell waiting for the reply. He heard Nadir say in the background, “It’s all right, Mr. Crimpson, land the last transport.”
Dexter said to Paul, “Very well, it’ll be on the ground in ten-minutes.”
“Good, standby to autopilot the transport I’m now loading back to Ship,” Paul said.
“Standing by, Fox-one out,” Dexter said, and ended the call.
Marcus had been watching the exchange and sensed the tension. “Is everything OK?” he asked.
Paul looked at him, his face hard in concentration. “The Garan’s have dropped out of the Void. They’ll be here in ninety-minutes.”
“Then we should leave,” Marcus said, his eyes popping in alarm.
“Not yet, the last transport is about to land on McAlister Oval. I want you to run over there, and direct the refugees. I’ll join you once this one is gone.” Marcus hesitated and Paul shouted at him, “Get moving!”
Marcus ran toward McAlister Oval as the last transports lights came into view in the sky. Paul watched it slowly and quietly descend to land on the field.
He turned to people walking to the transport in front of him and shouted, “Come on, move quickly now!”
Gesturing to them with his arm, and shouting at them, the line began to pick up pace. He turned to see nearly fifty people he had cut form the line for being too old, and suddenly felt sorry for them.
He ran toward them and shouted, “OK you folks, get on board.”
The group, still half stunned picked up their bags and headed for the transport. He followed them inside, and inspected the sitting people. They were all quiet due to being stunned, sitting in their seats and harnesses, staring blankly ahead. He noticed one-person watching him though, a woman in her late twenties with black hair.
He walked toward her. “Are you OK, ma’am?” he asked her.
“Yeah, I’m puzzled about what’s going on here,” she said. “And why these people are acting so strange.”
H
e smiled at her. “What’s your name?”
“Sue Beardsley,” she answered.
“Hi, Sue, well it’s kind of hard to explain, but an invasion is about to happen, and we’re evacuating people to somewhere safe,” Paul said.
“Where?” she asked.
“Sorry?”
“Where are you evacuating us too?”
“Oh, somewhere they won’t be able to hurt you,” Paul said.
“That’s pretty vague. Who are you? Are you with the Government? What are these airplanes, I’ve never seen anything like them?” she asked.
“I’m with…,” he paused, realizing that trying to explain everything to this woman is going to be too difficult. So he pulled his disruptor pistol out and stunned her. The other passengers barely registered what happened. “Sorry, Sue, I’ll explain it later,” he said and left her, feeling bad about what he just did.
As he walked down the aisle past all the refugees, the computer announced, “Major, this transport has reached its capacity.”
Paul hurried, and as he got close to the ramp at the back he had to push his way through people. Once at the rear he shouted at the line outside the transport to stop. They did, and once he cleared the ramp he closed it.
He entered the shuttle and activated communications. “Fox-three, the transport on Ryder Oval is ready to leave,” he said.
“Received, Fox-one, lift-off in ten seconds and counting,” Nadir replied.
“ETA of the fleet?” he asked.
“They’re slowing for orbital insertion, so you have sixty-five minutes at best,” Nadir said.
“I think we can do it, the last transport is loading now. How are the refugee’s settling in on Ship so far?”
“Most of them are still stunned, so they’re OK. But when the stun wears off… Well, I’m glad that’ll be your problem, not mine,” Nadir said sounding amused.