Walking to the Stars

by Laney Cairo

  He'd hoped for identifiable, or locatable, so intact, or assembled, or potentially functional would be better than he ever dreamed of.

  The doors at the far end of the workshop didn't so much open as fall apart, when the three of them pushed on them, the rotten wooden panels and cracked glass panes crumbling.

  "The Condensed Matter Research Group,” Samuel read off the wall sign on the other side of the door. “BioAcoustics, Medical Radiation Physics—that's a lab we don't want to go into—and...” He rubbed the heel of his hand across the pitted letters on the sign and leaned closer to peer at them. “Gravitational Waves Research Group. Down this corridor."

  "You found it?” Talgerit asked, sending more balls of light bumping off the ceiling ahead of Samuel, and this time, Samuel could hear the little things skittering around in the corners, making the dog whine.

  "Nearly,” Samuel said.

  Nick slung his arm, sweaty and filthy, around Samuel's shoulder, as Samuel slid through the muck on the floor, past the door with the BioAcoustics lab sign. “How does it feel?"

  Samuel grinned sideways at Nick. “Ask me again when we've found the lab, and it hasn't been gutted already."

  Part of the sign was missing, but the half that still hung from the door clearly read Waves Research, and that was good enough. The doors were stuck, warped and swollen in the dampness, but the three of them persuaded one of the doors to pull free of its hinges and frame.

  "Well, the lab's not empty,” Nick said, and Talgerit whacked Samuel on the back.

  "Steal the clock, go home,” Talgerit said. “I'm hungry."

  Samuel walked into the lab, Talgerit's lights floating around him, and touched the nearest desk, then the rig in the middle of the lab.

  "Now how do you feel?” Nick asked.

  "It's all here,” Samuel said. “This would have been the superconductor containment vat, for the niobium bar. The laser set-up for the clock should be..."

  Samuel pushed aside a stepladder, and pulled the remnants of a tarpaulin off the structure beside the containment vat.

  "This is the laser for the clock,” Samuel said, and he could hear his voice was odd, his throat too tight to speak properly.

  "We have to carry that home?” Talgerit asked. “Is it heavy? Can we borrow a truck, unna?"

  Nick patted the containment vat. “Possibly not all of it.” He sounded hopeful.

  "Only some of it,” Samuel said, pulling the stepladder closer and testing his weight on it, then deciding that was a bad idea when the ladder creaked and the rung snapped. “The important parts. You might want to get comfortable, because this could take some time."

  Talgerit lifted the dog up, onto a desk, and the dog curled up in Talgerit's lap when Talgerit sat on the desk, too. Nick said, “Let me know if you need a hand,” and propped himself on a workbench, and began to chew on a meal replacement bar.

  "Could I have some more light?” Samuel asked Talgerit, reaching into his jacket pocket for the shifter he'd stolen from the APC.

  More globes bobbed past Samuel's shoulders, sending crazy shadows across the side of the clock laser housing, and Talgerit said, “You could make your own light now. The Wagyl lives here, so lights are like breathing."

  Samuel looked up from adjusting the shifter to fit the corroded bolthead on the side of the clock laser housing, and Nick held out his hand, palm up, and creased his face in concentration, rearranging the dirt and his beard.

  Talgerit laughed, making the dog yip, and said, “Breathing, Nick. Not that thing you're doing."

  Nick stopped squinting and let out a long breath, and they all stared at his extended palm.

  "I don't know, Talgerit,” Nick said, before breathing in and out again loudly. “Not all of us have trained for years to be Feathermen."

  "You can breathe, eh?” Talgerit asked.

  "Last time I checked,” Nick said.

  Samuel turned back to the bolt he was attempting to loosen, gave the bolthead another unsuccessful twist, then hit it with the side of the shifter, so the thud echoed around the lab and rust flaked off the bolthead.

  On the next try, the shifter gripped, and the bolt moved, undoing slowly. Behind him, Talgerit started laughing, as loud as the clang of metal on metal had been, and Nick laughed, too, sudden and surprised.

  Samuel glanced back, still twisting the shifter, and laughed as well, because Nick had managed to make a small, sticky-looking ball of light, but with his other hand, not the one he'd been holding out and concentrating on.

  "Told you it was like breathing,” Talgerit said.

  Samuel pulled the bolt he was working on out of the laser housing, and moved on to the next bolt, and Nick said, “Now how do I get it off me?"

  Samuel shook his head, whacked the bolthead hard, just to start with, and began unscrewing it.

  Eventually, the housing cover pulled off, and the cryogenic chamber lid lifted, exposing the workings of the laser clock, and Samuel let out a long sigh.

  Talgerit grunted, possibly in his sleep since he was curled up on a desk with the dog, and Nick asked, “Found something?"

  "Want to look?” Samuel asked.

  Nick squelched across the lab floor, and leaned over Samuel's shoulder.

  "Wow,” Nick said. “That is a big chunk of glass."

  "That's a piece of flawless sapphire,” Samuel said. “That's what we're here for."

  Samuel touched the rounded side of the sapphire, where the housing had exposed it, just to feel the cold rock under his fingertips.

  "Is it going to be an issue to get it out of the machine-thing?” Nick asked.

  Samuel shrugged. “The manuals indicated that it should just lift out on its cradle. Of course, those manuals are now somewhere in the river, but I spent enough nights memorizing the instructions on the freighter that I'm not too worried. There should be a carry case for it somewhere. Do you want to look for it?"

  "That's it?” Nick asked. “That's all we're here for?"

  "The sapphire, and some of the peripherals,” Samuel said, reaching into the housing and feeling around for a release lever. “Spend a few minutes searching, see if the back-up discs were left onsite, then crack open the desktop computers, and pull out the hard drives."

  The cradle the sapphire rested in wiggled in Samuel's hands, but didn't swing, so he yanked on it, trying to pull the hinges past the corrosion stopping the mechanism.

  "Hard drives?” Nick asked, over the noise of him yanking open storage cabinets and store cupboards, searching for back-ups and for the case. “Won't they be useless after the bombs and all this time?"

  "What?” Talgerit asked sleepily.

  "Stiction will be an issue,” Samuel said. “But we're in a high energy physics research facility, inside a Faraday cage, which should have shielded and isolated everything enough to have protected the data in these machines."

  Nick pulled a crate out of a cupboard and sat it down solidly on a worktable, which creaked alarmingly.

  "So, all the computers in this basement are potentially salvageable?” Nick asked.

  Samuel nodded. “Possibly. If I could carry every hard drive out, I would, but I can't, so I'm just going to do my job."

  "What's stiction?” Talgerit asked, as Samuel found the clasps that held the sapphire's cradle securely, and began to force them undone with a screwdriver he'd dug out of his pocket.

  "When things have been resting against each other for a long time, it can be hard to get them to move apart,” Samuel said. “Especially machines."

  "Boyees,” Talgerit said, sounding like he understood.

  The clasp Samuel was prizing at snapped off, so Samuel gave the block of sapphire a heave, expecting it to be stuck solid, and it lifted jerkily upward on its runners.

  "Grab the foam packing for the sapphire,” Samuel said. “Let's lift this out."

  "Is that the clock?” Talgerit asked, as Samuel lifted the disc of sapphire, on its cradle, out of the housing and across onto the workbench besid
e the crate.

  "That's it,” Nick said.

  "It's a rock,” Talgerit said, splaying his hand across the clear stone disc, sounding deeply pleased. “Of course, time would be inside a rock. That's where it belongs."

  Nick muttered something under his breath as they slid the sapphire on its cradle into the padded box, and Samuel said, “Let me guess, you were wondering why it couldn't be in something easier to carry?"

  Samuel took the screwdriver out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Nick. “Strip hard drives, while I pull the niobium bar out of the containment vat."

  "I haven't touched a PC for more than twenty years,” Nick said, as Samuel crouched down in front of the access plate to the containment vat.

  "And I've never worked on desktop computers like the ones here,” Samuel said. “So you're a long way ahead of me. Besides, if I do the hard drives, you have to remove the niobium bar from the containment vat."

  Nick was silent for a moment, while Talgerit laughed, then Nick said, “Can I use a hammer? For either task?"

  Samuel knelt back on his heels. “Sure, because I'm just going to force my way in here."

  He smacked the side of the containment vat repeatedly with the shifter, until the steel sheeting buckled enough for him to wedge the edge of the shifter under it, then lever up.

  The house popped up, revealing the control board, and Samuel went directly for the manual handles, winding each undone in turn, so that the side of the house dropped down completely, revealing the innards of the containment vat, with the coils, condensers and niobium bar buried in the middle.

  Given time, and a truck, he'd pull the resources out of the basement, gutting the machines and computers. There'd be a server room somewhere, and if it had been shielded and earthed adequately the drives would have survived... He could only imagine the research that was on the servers, amongst the memos, emails and clutter.

  Then there were the other buildings, like Engineering and Chemistry. If he could get back here, with a real recovery team, then out to Trudy's library at Lake Grace, to copy her books, huge gaps in the archives would be filled.

  Of course, they had to get out of here alive first.

  The pile on the desk grew steadily, as Nick added drives and Samuel dismantled the optical frequency synthesizers, taking the polarizers and the optical fiber chains.

  "How much are you taking?” Nick asked, when Samuel put the second polarizer on the pile.

  "Only as much as one person can carry,” Samuel said, and Nick nodded.

  "Then it's time to stop,” Nick said. “Do physicists keep bags in their labs?"

  Samuel opened drawers and cupboards at random, until he found a stack of bags made from robust plastic fibres. He shook the bags out, dislodging rodent droppings, and found a couple of bags that hadn't been chewed on.

  "So, what do physicists put in bags?” Nick asked.

  "Polarizers, sapphires and their lunch, I suspect,” Samuel said. “And flasks of coffee."

  They packed the bags, and Samuel took the bag holding the sapphire in its cradle and foam packing. He wasn't planning on letting go of it again for a while.

  Talgerit climbed down from his perch on the workbench, wound his feather shoes onto their cord and around his neck, woke his dog up, and they worked their back through the workshop, down the hallway, to the stairs.

  The cluster of globes, bouncing ahead of and trailing behind them, cast enough light that the shapes on the stairs were clear.

  The things, whatever they were, had lined up on the stairs, filling each step, blocking the exit.

  "Talgerit?” Nick asked.

  "Don't hurt them, unna?” Talgerit suggested, pushing his dog behind his knees.

  "I don't think they want us to leave,” Samuel said.

  "Or take things with us?” Nick asked.

  "Do you think they could be part of the building? Or the work that was done here?” Samuel asked.

  "Why don't you show them your credentials, see if that helps?” Nick suggested. “If they're physics creatures, they're not going to be impressed by my medical qualification."

  Samuel edged closer to the stairs, and the things shuffled, but didn't clear a path for him.

  "Hello,” Samuel said. “So, I'm part of an international project to build a spacecraft, to explore the asteroid belt, and maybe beyond. I'm an electrical engineer, not a physicist, but there are physicists working on the project, I promise. And they need the equipment we want to take with us."

  Samuel paused, and waited, and nothing happened; the things didn't move out of the way, or seem to respond at all.

  "Hey, Nick,” Samuel said, standing back up again, and trying to ignore the feeling of slime from the floors soaking through his clothes, where he'd knelt down. “Can you do that sticky light ball thing?"

  "If you want light from me, that's the only option,” Nick said, holding his hand out, the palm filling with luminescent goo.

  Samuel dipped his finger in the light and started drawing in the air. “This is how you calculate pi,” Samuel said, drawing a circle in the air then drawing a line through it. “This is pi, but I'm only good to about fifteen decimal places."

  He scribbled in the air quickly. “Right triangle. Sine, and cosine. With me so far? Now, let's get into something I'm more comfortable with, free electrons in a metal lattice. And electrical potential..."

  He dipped his finger in the light again, and drew Ohm's Law in the air, and then Ampere's Rule, talking all the time, because it felt like the things on the stairs were listening, like his words or the symbols were getting through.

  Nick touched Samuel's shoulder, stopping him mid-sentence, because the things had moved aside, clearing a path for them up the stairs.

  "I liked that,” Talgerit said, at the top of the stairs, as they crunched over the broken glass and dead leaves in the hallway on the ground floor. “Samuel is a kind of talking clever man."

  Samuel hitched the bag he was carrying more securely onto his shoulders and smiled to himself.

  The darkness outside had lifted, and first light filtered in pale and murky, through undergrowth that had climbed into what had once been the foyer, straggling vines over crumbling brick pillars. At the top of steps down, through vines and ferns, to a clearing surrounded by buildings and towering trees, Talgerit flung out his arms, stopping Nick and Samuel, and said, “Look!"

  In the darkest shadows of the clearing, a long shape shifted, lifting a small head on a sinuous neck, so large eyes glittered at them from across the clearing.

  "The Wagyl,” Nick whispered, and Talgerit nodded, his dog whimpering. “What do we do?"

  Talgerit slipped his feather shoes off from around his neck, freeing them from their cord, and bent down to slip them on.

  "Don't know,” Talgerit said. “No one has ever told me."

  The Wagyl moved, uncoiling itself from the darkness, and Samuel said, “Mosasaur? Plesiosaur?"

  "I don't think any of them flew,” Nick pointed out.

  "Be quiet,” Talgerit said, sounding annoyed, and he began to pick his way down through the undergrowth, toward the Wagyl, shrugging his jacket off his shoulders. “C'mon."

  "Us, as well?” Nick asked.

  Talgerit looked back at them. “Do you want to be eaten? Show your scars, too."

  Samuel followed Nick's lead in undressing, and dropped the bag he was carrying and pulled off his shirt, then grabbed the bag and followed Nick and Talgerit down the steps as quickly as he could in the half-light.

  Talgerit reached the edge of the clearing, and began to walk silently and smoothly across the open ground, the Wagyl rising up above him, long snake-like neck and a huge body with giant flippers.

  Something buzzed in the distance, growing steadily louder, but Samuel didn't dare take his eyes off the Wagyl, not once he began to cross the clearing, too, behind Nick.

  The buzzing was a roaring by the time Samuel had caught up with Nick and Talgerit, and the Wagyl loomed over them, sharp
ly outlined against the overcast early morning sky.

  Samuel's scars hurt, on his chest and thigh, burning deep inside, and the roaring was so loud and close, he couldn't hear what Nick was saying, even though Nick had turned and was shouting directly at him.

  The branches of the trees around the clearing began to whip around, and a helicopter lifted over the roof of the Physics building. The Wagyl swung and twisted, slicing huge flippers through the air above their heads, and Talgerit lifted his hands, as though to touch the Wagyl.

  A huge noise rocked them, booming over the cacophony of the helicopter, and a tree and part of the building behind the Wagyl crumbled and broke.

  Nick's hands grabbed Samuel, tossing him down, into the undergrowth, and Samuel lay shaking, partially covered by Nick, as the Wagyl lifted up, into the air above them.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Fourteen

  The boom of the chopper exploding reverberated around the buildings, and the ground under Nick's knees shook. Beneath him, Samuel was wild-eyed, teeth obviously clenched tight. Talgerit was making odd noises, somewhere buried in the fern fronds, so Nick patted Samuel's cheek, leaving muddy smudges behind, and crawled through the ferns to find Talgerit.

  The ferns were trampled, the muddy ground churned, and palm fronds and branches were strewn around. Somewhere in the mess, and nearby, Talgerit muttered unhappily.

  "Talgerit, unna?” Nick asked, shaking his head to get the ring of the explosion out of his ears. “Hurt?"

  "Nick,” Talgerit hissed, closer than Nick expected, sounding like he was right beside him in the undergrowth. “Something happened."

  "The chopper exploded,” Nick said. “We need to move, get out of here, before anyone else arrives with guns. Can you move?"

  "Not until you get off me."

  Nick poked at the crushed bracken in front of him, which actually felt kind of substantial and person-like to the touch, and Talgerit grunted.

  "Talgerit,” Nick said, and he wondered if he sounded as tired as he felt. “This is a new kind of Featherman hiding, isn't it?"