by B. C. CHASE
Doctor Angel raised his head weakly, his face ashen, his eyes barely open. Wesley fired three more times in rapid succession until there was no more movement and the body was a bloody, bowed heap.
Wesley stood there still aiming, breathing hard, and feeling Kelle’s eyes upon him.
Interrupting the silence, there was a splash from the bin in front of Wesley and he looked down to see the fetus flailing its arms against the plastic, red coiling into the water from a bullet hole in its abdomen. It threw its tiny head back, its mouth opening in a silent scream.
In shock and horror, Wesley dropped the handgun to the floor and reached down to grasp the fetus with both hands. Delicately, he lifted it up. As the water trickled away from its mouth, it took a coughing breath and with its eyes still closed, cried out with a small, untried voice. Blood rhythmically surfaced at the wound and washed over its stomach with its rapid heartbeats, bathing Wesley’s hands as it trickled down. He pressed his thumb to the wound, but to no avail.
Wesley felt his legs giving way beneath him and he leaned back against the apparatus holding the tiny life in front of him. He felt a small pressure on his thumb as the fetus gripped it with its little hand, its whole body tightening in pain. The flow of blood lessened, thickened, and its flesh lost all color. Its movements weakened until it was still except for the rapid rise and fall of its chest. Its eyes opened and for one instant Wesley stared into them and it stared back with cognition. Then its arms and legs draped limply from Wesley’s hands.
He raised his eyes to Kelle. She stood silently, her expression unfathomable. He sank down to the floor, staring at the lifeless body in his bloody hands. The handgun was resting on the floor by his leg. His mind was empty, numb. But the numb feeling was just beginning to give way before an onslaught of emotional desolation he could sense pushing through. He didn’t want to feel the pain again. Delicately, he laid the fetus down. Then he reached for the pistol and raised it to his own head.
“No!” Kelle cried, stretching out her hand as she rushed toward him.
He closed his eyes so he couldn’t see her before he pulled the trigger.
Paradeisia
Everyone was on the loading dock in front of the large gondola that would take the team down the portal. Lady Shrewsbury stepped toward Aubrey as she watched Bridges say goodbye to his family. The sincerity on his face as he kissed his wife and two small girls told Aubrey that he was more concerned about the safety of this campaign than he was letting on.
Lady Shrewsbury, now in front of Aubrey, said, “I would encourage you not to do this thing. In the boardroom, you performed marvelously to shame the boys into action. But your work is done; you needn't trouble yourself to follow through with your threat. As women we are sometimes tasked to motivate our men but rarely are we required to follow them into battle.”
Aubrey fired back, “So you think women are weak damsels and this is men's work?”
Lady Shrewsbury replied firmly, “There are different kinds of weakness. Do not be ashamed of being feminine, my dear, nor from adopting the role of a woman. No one is capable of playing two tunes on one flute, and if you try, you will find that some of the most important notes are left out.”
“I don’t think women have a role.”
“In other words, you think their role is that of a man’s.”
“Huh?” Aubrey said.
“You believe that men should bear infants and be their primary caregivers?”
“No. The man and the woman should share that job.”
“Should they indeed?” Lady Shrewsbury scoffed incredulously. “I’ve never seen a man with hips adequate to the task. Not to mention certain apparatus which they lack up top.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, Aubrey, that men do not have birthing hips, nor do they have breasts—both of which are requisite for the birth and care of an infant.”
“Are you serious?”
“Only if you are,” Lady Shrewsbury smirked.
Bridge’s loud voice interrupted their exchange, “Put away your hankies, boys! Goodbye time is over.” Then he looked at Aubrey with what she found to be an unnerving gaze, “Time to roll!”
Aubrey joined the line of men in fatigues as they boarded the gondola.
A distraction was quick to present itself, at any rate: she had hardly taken her seat when a muscular man with stubble for a beard, wearing a cotton shirt, suspenders, and khakis dropped down beside her, saying, “Do you mind, love?” He had a distinctly South African accent.
She smiled broadly with a, “No.” The guy was probably in his early thirties. He had chiseled features and intensely blue eyes.
He stretched up his powerful right arm and clicked the harness in place. Then he reached over with the same arm to offer a handshake, “The name's Adriaan Holt. What's yours?”
“Aubrey,” she replied warmly. As she shook his hand, Aubrey realized that he was missing his left arm: the short sleeve of his shirt on that side draped empty. She also noted a tattoo on his right bicep:
Daniel 6:22
“So what brings you on this little excursion down the flusher?” he asked.
She felt a bit regretful as she said, “I volunteered. I thought it was a worthy cause.”
“You knew Andrews?”
She shook her head “no.”
He nodded respectfully, “That's noble of you. I was commandeered by Bridges. He thought having a PH from Tanzania might be helpful in tracking down the poor bloke. Frankly, I don't know if I'll be of any use, but I'm always up for an adventure.”
“What's a PH?” Aubrey blurted.
“Professional hunter. I've spent most my life giving tourists the chance to shoot the brains out of one of the big five.”
“What's the big five?”
“You know .... Lions, elephants, cape buffalo, leopards, rhinos.”
Aubrey exclaimed, “You help people shoot those poor animals?”
“Yeah. At least I did before I came to this island to work in Out of Africa. That was before I knew that it's only a zoo full of genetically tamed animals. They even put genes in those things to make them use the litter box.”
“But aren't they endangered? Why would you help tourists kill them?”
“Trust me, I care about the animals more than anything. But big game hunters come with big money. It's their currency that pays for most of the conservancy efforts in Africa. You've heard of the World Wildlife Fund?”
“Yeah.”
“They're a bunch of fat-cat lawyers getting rich off of animal-lovers and concocted lawsuits. We don't see a shilling from them. Big game hunters are the ones with the big money.
“But if the hunters come to shoot the animals, I don't get how it's helping conservancy. Doesn't that deplete the population?”
“Look, most of them come for that once-in-a-lifetime trophy kill. We help them hunt responsibly for that single animal, and they pay for national parks, rangers, breeding stations, fencing, anti-poaching efforts, the lot of it. It's a drop in the bucket population wise, and a fair price for all the benefit.”
“So the ends justify the means?”
“Look, love. There's nothing inherently wrong in shooting a beast. The meat is eaten—nothing goes to waste. The animal certainly would have died anyway. What would be wrong is letting those sightseers ransack the parks and shoot every damn thing that twitches an ear.”
“Wouldn't it be better to just close the doors to them?”
“That's what I'm saying, love. There wouldn't be any doors without their money. We couldn’t close the doors because we couldn’t afford to build the gate.”
“I’d bet if the hunters’ money wasn't there, the governments would be forced to take care of the problem.”
Adriaan scoffed, “Oh right, the government would do it. Just like the government is bloody well taking care of everything else. If you go to the hospital in Tanzania, you’d better bring the medicine you need with you. You know why? Because it’
s the government’s job to stock the hospitals but the government can’t seem to count how many pills they need. If you can’t afford to bring your own medicine, than you’re in trouble. The world doesn't run on government. The world runs on money. Even kings kneel before gold. Nothing is free. If you want something, you have to pay for it. Right now the only people willing to pay for big game are the big game hunters.”
“Well, you haven't convinced me yet,” Aubrey said. Then she gave him a friendly nudge, “But you can keep trying.”
Suddenly Adriaan nodded toward the front of the gondola, “Looks like we're taking the plunge.”
Aubrey gripped the harness tightly, shrieking gleefully as the craft nosedived into the portal.
They were rushing headlong down the blackness of the portal with unbreakable speed. She found the experience all the more exhilarating knowing that a strong, attractive “PH” was sitting next to her.
At the same time, though, she worried that she shouldn’t be going at all. The yellow warning messages. The thought made her clutch her stomach in sudden anxiety.
The majestic landscape of forested ridges with waterfalls and lava flows, valleys of boiling lakes, and the constant lightning in the ceiling and the far horizon were so spectacular they blew Aubrey away once again.
The gondolas came to rest on a plateau overlooking the giant bones of the long-dead ancient creature near where Andrews had appeared the last time Aubrey was down. It only took them an hour or so to unload the gondolas and set up camp. Then they trekked down the ridge to the spot where Andrews had first appeared, to look for clues. And it wasn't long before they found one.
FlyRail Hub—Command Center
Henry hovered over the shoulders of the command center operators. He asked, “When will we know if they have returned?”
“Almost immediately.”
He found his mind wandering. He couldn't control it; Aubrey was rendering him powerless even though she was miles under the earth. In this moment, he didn't care about his role on Paradeisia; he didn't care about his vanity, his money, or the constant war for control he waged with everyone and everything around him. He cared only for this beautiful woman. He tightened his jaw, clenched his fist and audibly said, “Bloody hell!”
The operator underneath him looked up, “Yes, Mr. Potter?”
“Nothing,” he said.
The voice of Lady Shrewsbury suddenly startled him, “It's true, what they say, isn't it?”
Henry turned to see her standing there, mischief written all over her face. “What is that?” he asked.
“Absence,” she said, “makes the heart grow fonder.”
SaiLine Paradise
Something had blocked the passage on the next flight of stairs, so Donte led his mother and Bao away toward a mall-like space surrounded by shops and cafés that stretched all the way to the atrium a football field away. A small stream of water was already flowing across the cobblestone-like tile floor. Chairs from the cafes had been overturned. People were chaotically racing everywhere. Donte pushed through the chaos, hoping to reach the atrium stairs.
Suddenly there was a blast from the atrium. A wall of water catapulted around the elevator shaft bases and circular staircase to rush down the mall toward them. It enveloped people and furniture on its way. Donte, his mother, and Bao ran for the cover of a round Starbucks booth in the middle of the space. The braced themselves behind a counter and within seconds the flood crashed into it like a tsunami, spray washing over the top and breaking free a counter-high metal fridge. The fridge rammed Donte’s mother, knocking her backwards and crushing her against the opposing counter. She was pinned like a rag doll as the water began to level. Donte swam over to her, shouting, “Momma!”
She groaned as he wedged himself between part of the counter and the fridge to free her. With the fridge moving away, she started to fall facedown into the water, but Bao hurried to support her.
“Oh, Donte!” she groaned, as he came to her other side to help Bao. His mother’s forearm was snapped, the bone protruding through her skin. She started to sink down into the flow, but Donte pulled her up. “We have to get out of here, momma,” Donte frantically encouraged.
“Child,” she struggled to say. She coughed and blood stained the edge of her mouth. “You have to go, the water is coming!” The water was swirling above her waist.
“Momma!” Donte cried, tears streaming down his cheeks. “You gotta try.”
Clenching her jaw in pain, she shook her head.
“No,” Donte shook his head. His body trembled as he cried, “No.”
“Take care,” she wheezed, “of your brothers and sisters.” Her breaths came with extreme difficulty. “You hear?” The water had risen to her chest.
Donte kept shaking his head.
“You hear!” she demanded.
The water was swirling around her chin. Echoes of screams of people fighting to escape the area seemed distant.
“No, momma! No!”
His mother coughed again, a lot of bloody fluid. She rasped, “Live.” Then she closed her eyes, loosened her legs and submerged her head under the water. Her mouth opened, letting out bubbles which rose to the surface and blood which coiled out into the water. Her body seemed to go into a convulsion as it fought for air.
“Mooooom!” Donte screamed, trying to pull her up, but with the water churning around his own neck, he was powerless. Her body surfaced face-down, the current threatening to pull it away from his grasp.
Clinging to a post that supported the top of the booth, Bao shouted, “Gen wo lai! Gen wo lai!” and tugged on his shirt.
Doctor Ming-Zhen could feel the stairs tremble beneath his feet as the river ran past them two floors below. The ship was leaning dramatically, now, and water flowed into the atrium without restraint. He seized the railing as the ship began to roll, the tremendous stress causing the metal to groan. Then he heard another sound. Screams and bangs from the glass elevator which was trapped a floor and a half below. Panicked passengers slapped the glass inside, the water roiling around two feet from the bottom.
Doctor Ming-Zhen secured his two extra life jackets around the railing and quickly climbed down to the elevator. He couldn’t get around to the doors, and even if he had been able to reach them, he didn’t think he could pry them open if the passengers couldn’t. He looked around for something that could shatter the glass.
There was a bar one floor up. Surely there was something he could use there. He gave the glass a reassuring pat and raised his finger as if to say “one minute” and then climbed back up the stairs. Because of the list, he had to clamber on his hands and knees in order to get across the marble floor to the bar. Once there, he quickly threw open drawers and cabinets. There were plenty of implements, but they were all small. He wanted something really big. Big and metal.
He heard a bang.
The bar stools were toppling over, one rolling across the floor.
That would work.
He ran around to the front of the bar and lifted a stool. It was hard to balance while holding it, so he drug it back down to the circular staircase. Holding the stool with one hand and the railing with the other, he managed to make it to the elevator, where the water was now more than halfway to the top. He banged on the glass to get them all to move away, and then bashed it as hard as he could with a stool leg.
The glass didn’t flinch.
Bao was desperately struggling to hold onto the large, leafless branch of an artificial tree. The water had filled the mall area halfway to the thirty-foot ceiling and she and Donte were trapped in the middle on the artificial tree, the powerful surge threatening to pry them loose. He appeared dazed, as if he was somewhere else.
He struck it again, this time leveraging his grip better.
The glass cracked. With a third strike, it shattered. He quickly smashed away the remnants, then helped the first passenger, an older woman, out. One by one each of the five passengers emerged gratefully, the last one exiting as
the water rose threateningly.
Doctor Ming-Zhen spun around and started clambering back up along the railing. The ship’s roll was fast, the staircase quickly rotating toward a horizontal position. Water was boiling up freely from the now totally open area where the oversized windows had been. The lights flickered out. A horrific groan resounded and, with a mighty crack, the entire opposite glass wall shattered, the shards cascading down. Doctor Ming-Zhen ducked to avoid getting struck in the face. Metal ruptured and a giant hole opened up to reveal the starry night sky directly above. He stared in awe as the two halves of the ship slowly opened away from one another like two sides of a book, the innards of several floors exposed, shards of metal, wires, and tubes dangling, while deck chairs, videogame machines, caddies, and people poured out and tumbled down into the sea. Doctor Ming-Zhen gazed up at the beautiful moon and clouds, knowing this was the end.
As the ship rolled, the flow of water suddenly decreased, allowing Donte and Bao to free themselves from the artificial tree and make a swim for the now-vertical ceiling, which had metal bars they could grab and climb. The lights went out. It was pitch black, making the sounds of rushing water and screams more striking. There was a reverberating crack from the atrium and moonlight poured in. It took a moment for Donte’s eyes to adjust to the gray light, but when they did, he could see that the forward end of the mall away from the atrium was quickly lowering while water cascaded down over the cafés and storefronts like an enormous waterfall over boulders, quickly filling the space. Donte helped Bao as they clambered up the ceiling toward the atrium, desperately fighting to keep up with the water that was filling the back end of the mall. Bao suddenly gasped as she cut her leg on a damaged light fixture. It wasn’t serious, but bled. Climbing, pulling, grasping, heaving they made their way up the ceiling toward the opening of the atrium. The water raged after them until, finally, they reached the glass elevator.