Nor, more importantly, of his gun. Where we had dropped our sidearms earlier, I could not say, not that I would have been able to reach them. I had a couple of rounds left in the Colt, but they were useless. Where was my ship? There—!
A huge serpent lay dead atop it, scavengers already abandoning the fight to tear at its carcass.
My only chance was to run. If I could evade the horde of predators until daylight, I might be able to make my way downriver. I would then have to escape the human predators who would be coming from Xattaña, but if I did not survive the next few minutes, that would a moot point.
I tried to pinpoint the river and the city, on the theory that moving perpendicular to that line would take me away from the killing zone the quickest, but my task was not so simple. As soon as I moved, I attracted attention, and I was so small that I appeared an easy meal even to the nominal scavengers—such as the giant bird who had blocked my path to the ship.
It stalked me now, its enormous talons scratching the dirt and its enormous beak darting forward and back. Its beady eyes never left me, and my feints were met with blocks far more swiftly than I could move. I had the Colt out now; if I could put a bullet in its eye, it might reach the brain.
I stopped, daring it to come closer. I had two shots left, but likely only time for one. I raised the Colt in a two-handed grip—
—and the bird vanished in a gout of flame! Suddenly flames were bursting to life all around me, and even those ghastly behemoths showed a primeval fear of fire and retreated. I looked up and saw a klurath cruiser floating down to land beside me!
My astonishment grew as the hatch opened and Timash and Gaz Bronn stepped out, both laden with heavy weaponry. They regarded me for a moment.
“Is he always in this much need of rescuing?” Gaz Bronn asked.
Timash raised his rifle nonchalantly and fired at something behind me. “Always.”
Chapter 60
The Future Restored
It took some time for Gaz Bronn and his escort to leave Xattaña, because the first order he gave after I climbed aboard was, “If it moves, kill it.” And they did, one klurath cruiser and five fighter-interceptors of the Utopian Navy. When we left, the plains had been scoured clean.
I was thrilled and relieved when they told me that Maire had survived her duel with Lobok, and although it had looked bad when the Crystallen appeared, they had come expecting to meet with the late captain and move on toward Dure. By the time they grew suspicious of Maire’s crew’s stalling tactics, the bulk of the Utopian Navy had hove to, the end result of three hundred years of directed preparation for war with the Nuum, and the outnumbered, outgunned Crystallen had retired from the field, a problem for another day.
Likewise the Xattañans, who had never bothered to develop more than rudimentary defensive capabilities. We returned Dr. Wilner to the Institute, and Crystalle and Xattaña currently await the judgment of the new administration of Thora—but for now, greater issues take precedence.
I say the “new administration” because, armed with evidence of Xattaña’s atrocities and Crystallen’s insurgency, Maire was able to demand and obtain the resignation of the entire Council of Nobles. When I questioned what was to replace it, she had an answer ready.
“The power of the Council hasn’t been what it was for years. Most of the city-states were running themselves as they liked, and you saw how that worked out. So I thought we’d put a new system in place.”
“Yes,” I said, “but what kind of system?”
“I thought you would have some ideas. After all, look what you did for the klurath.”
This took me aback. I pointed out all I had done for the klurath was institute was some civil rights for the slaves; Gaz Bronn had taken over the government, but he had been vice-president already. The structure had not changed.
“So change it,” she said. “How did your country work?”
“It started with one man,” the Librarian said. “His name was Washington.” And although this was a gross over-simplification, I began to see his point. With a little time to think about it, I came up with what I thought was a rather neat solution that I presented to my friends as a group.
“It is known as a three-branch system. There is an executive branch which executes the laws, consisting of the president, whom I think should be a Thoran. Then there is a deliberative branch, which proposes the laws. I would like to recreate the Council of Nobles for that, but make it open to all Nuum—and maybe Thorans, later on. Finally, there is the judicial branch, which interprets the laws and sits in judgment. For that, I would use the Library.”
It is perhaps a tribute to the framers of my own Constitution that my friends accepted this framework with very little discussion. Gaz Bronn even thought there might be room for some similar changes in his own government:
“I get tired of doing everything myself.”
“I have a question,” Timash announced. “How do we choose this president person?”
“We hold a popular vote. Since we are already planning to grant all Thorans access to the datasphere, that should be simple.”
Maire came to stand next to me. “You’re right. That was simple.”
I looked at her, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
She spared a glance at the rest of the room, Timash, Gaz Bronn, Skull, Sanja, Vanu’A, and even Zachary Kyle, who seemed reluctant to return home.
“Well, as you know, there was no reason the Thorans couldn’t use the datasphere, except that the Nuum never allowed them access. Once they had that, they could join immediately, just like they did in Dure. And so they did. We haven’t reached everyone yet, but just about. And they’ve been listening in. They like your plan.” She rose on her tiptoes and kissed me. “You got 79% of the vote.”
Staring into her eyes, I almost missed the eruption of cheers. Everyone was laughing and shouting and pounding me on the back.
And so I, Keryl Clee, became the President of Earth.
“I hate to bust up the party,” Zachary Kyle said later in the evening, “but I have to go.”
I clasped his arm. “It was an honor.”
“Oh, no,” he said. “The honor was mine. It was an honor to meet all of you.” He went around the room, bidding farewell to those he had come to know, and those he had barely met. When he reached Sanja, they embraced, but when they parted her arm returned to its now-accustomed place entwined with Skull’s, and Kyle appeared at peace with that. As it turned out, he was more than at peace with it, as Maire had tried to tell me once.
Vanu’A unexpectedly stepped up to hug me—a surprise until I saw Zachary Kyle hovering behind her.
“Zachary has offered to take me back with him,” she said with a sad smile. “I won’t be able to read anyone’s mind. It will so quiet.”
Maire and I wished her well. “You were right,” I whispered to her. “Sometimes, I miss what’s right in front of my face.”
“You certainly do. Why, for instance, you’ve never asked me why when the Librarian was dressed up as that detective of yours, he told me we had things to discuss.” She placed my hand on her stomach. “Like names, for example.”
My first official act as president was to inform my people of Dr. Res’s research, and his findings, and his theory that the ships he had detected were the Nuum returning at last. The news was shocking, and shattering, and not all took it well, but it had to be done.
Although I hope they come in peace, I have made arrangements for our defense if they do not. I believe that the Crystallen, the klurath, and the Utopians, as possessors of the great navies of Thora, will be able to subsume their differences to the greater good should our visitors prove hostile, and I have instituted a chain of command to guide our efforts.
And so my story ends. I am standing now in Dr. Res’s observatory on the Moon, charting the approach of the Returners. They are within the orbit of Mars and will reach us within hours. Our efforts to communicate so far have been futile, but I remain optimistic.
I find that this optimism comes surprisingly easily, for until recently, I had feared the Earth would never see this day. Now, the future that had been stolen from us has been returned.
Let it come.
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About the Author
Brian K. Lowe has been writing since he was a child, the same time during which he was devouring the kinds of books that eventually he would write. A fan of comic books, pulp magazines, 1930s screwball comedies, and kaiju movies, he thinks he has a good grasp of what life must have been like in Depression-era America. He is almost certainly wrong.
Brian lives with his wife of 35 years in Southern California. He may be reached at brianklowewriter(at)aol.com.
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Copyright
The Cosmic City
Book 3 of The Stolen Future Trilogy
Written by Brian K. Lowe
Executive Editor: Michael A. Wills
Editorial Assistant: Ivy M. Wills
This story is a work of fiction. All the characters, organizations, locations, and events portrayed in this story are either the product of the author’s imagination, fictitious, or used fictitiously. No claim to the trademark, copyright, or intellectual property of any identifiable company, organization, product, or public name is made. Any character resembling an actual person, living or dead, would be coincidental and quite remarkable.
The Cosmic City. Copyright © 2018 by Brian K. Lowe. This story and all characters, settings, and other unique features or content are copyright Brian K. Lowe. Published under exclusive license by Digital Fiction Publishing Corp. Cover Image ID 48922141 © Angela Harburn | Adobe Stock Images. This version first published in print and electronically: October 2018 by Digital Fiction Publishing Corp., LaSalle, Ontario, Canada. Digital Fiction, Digital Science Fiction and its logos, and Digital Fiction Publishing Corp and its logo, are Trademarks of Digital Fiction Publishing Corp. (Digital Fiction)
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