by Sandy Nathan
“S’r, I don’ know—”
“You will know, very soon.” Jeremy’s manner changed and he became more approachable than Sam had ever known him. “Sam, I can’t leave that stuff here if there’s any chance the general’s forces will get it. I planned on staying here with you and the village, and Arthur and everyone. I wanted to teach you the computers, and train you on the rest of the systems as long as I was alive. I wanted our kids to have a good start, and their kids to grow up right.”
Sam’s heart jumped. He put his hand over it.
“Yeah, it’s a shock. Anyone locked into the shelter tomorrow will never come out. Their descendants will. We’re talking tens of generations, maybe hundreds of generations.
“I planned as well as I could. I’ve got instruments to measure radioactivity all over. I even worked out a system for testing levels of radioactivity if my instruments fail. Canaries!” He smiled, a smile that showed Sam that Jeremy was still a kid. “They used them in the coal mines long ago. They took cages of canaries down in the pits. If the air got so bad the canaries died, they sent the men back up. Should work for radiation, too.
“I love this place. I built it to make a new world.” Jeremy indicated the computer behind him. “All this time, I’ve been thinking in terms of being here myself, but now it’s changed. I want you to save everyone.” He ran his fingers through his curls. “I feel crazy. I’ve planned this forever. And then Ellie comes along...
“She told me that people are coming tomorrow from her planet—for her and me. I may go with her, if it comes. But that leaves the shelter to be cared for.
“Sam—can you take it for me?”
Sam felt like he’d been punched. “How? Ah don’ know computers. Ah don’ know how t’ read! How kin ah lead this, w’ out you? Ah kin keep th’ village straight, but wha’ about th’ rest?” He shook his head. “Ah canna do ‘er. Nah w’out help. An’ who will be left wi’ me? They all will want a go wi’ ye.”
His face said, Who would stay in this terrible place?
“Is it that bad?” Jeremy looked hurt. “You can turn the lights up high. There’s lots of solar. It’s big. You can bring the plants in the house down here.
“And Arthur will be here, Sam. He knows the computers almost as well as me; he’s been with me since the beginning. He helped install half the systems. He can run the place, Sam, but he’s not like you are. The village won’t follow him.”
Sam’s expression didn’t change.
“OK. I just wanted you to know everything. I asked you, Sam, because you’re a warrior—and you have a family you love and care about. Arthur’s a warrior, pure and simple. He doesn’t have the stakes you do. I love Henry and Mel, but they couldn’t do it. They’re not killers. You are.
“Think about what I said, Sam. You’ll have your own kingdom. And, oh, the others don’t know this.”
“I’ll na tell ‘um.”
“Let’s see what happens, Sam. There’s no spaceship out there yet. I may end up with you.”
But Sam knew the ship would appear, just as sure as he knew that he and the village would be left behind.
40
“How many people live in the village now?” Jeremy asked again. They stood with the others in the hallway outside the computer lab.
Sam shifted from foot to foot, embarrassed. “We got this many.” He held up his hands, fingers spread, and opened and closed them nine times, then again with three fingers.
“Ninety three! Perfect! I designed it for one hundred people. There’ll be room for all of us if the spaceship doesn’t show. You can bring”—he pulled out a pocket computer and punched some numbers into it—“fifteen chickens, six sheep, and eleven rabbits. The air recirculation system will be good for that many. OK, let’s look around.” Jeremy waved an arm to indicate the hallway.
“This is the VIP corridor. This was designed to be where all the bigwig scientists would live and hang out. Back there, by the entrance to the corridor and under the staircase, is the room that was supposed to be for my mom.” He pointed in the direction they’d come. “Next to it is my room, then Arthur’s.” He led them down the U-shaped corridor. Smaller hallways veered off to their right.
The computer lab and munitions bays were down there; Sam saw the little passage they’d taken to get to it. He listened to every word Jeremy said and watched for the things he didn’t talk about. Sam noticed more steel doors pulled back into the walls.
“Your room is right here, Sam. For you and your... family.” Jeremy punched some buttons on a wall and a heavy metal door opened inward. They went inside. “See, it’s big. As big as your house in the village.”
Sam allowed that the concrete-lined room was big. Its hard walls echoed. Bright lights glared from the ceiling. If he’d had one wife and four kiddies, this room might not have been too bad. But four wives? How could four women get along in one room? A room with no furniture or partitions? What would it be like with all the kids running around an’ babies cryin’?
Jeremy looked at him expectantly, as though he thought Sam would love his new home. Sam shuddered.
“With some potted plants and the stuff from the house, it will look nicer. You can have whatever you want from the house, Sam.”
Sam could imagine the rug with all the colors on the floor. That would be nicer. But, no, this place would never be aught but a square box in hell.
“Well, this is the best I could do. Consider the alternative.” Jeremy backed out quickly and headed up the hallway. The others followed, Sam at a distance, looking up at the ceiling. A steel track showed where the door shoved into the wall would run. His room could be cut off from those belonging to Jeremy, Arthur, and the lady. The place could be shut down if there was an emergency—or an uprising.
Sam caught up with the group. The broad corridor turned left again. Some smaller corridors headed to his right. Jeremy blathered about the scientists and recreation facilities. Sam watched the pattern of the hidden doors and what could be locked down.
“Here’s the gym.” Jeremy opened two wide doors and walked inside. Lights flooded the big space. The others followed him.
“My goodness! This is bigger than the gym at the school,” Henry said.
“Or my athletic club,” James said.
“I want everyone fit when they get out.” Jeremy walked into the hall and opened some more doors. “This is the library.” Jeremy led them to a room full of big upholstered chairs and computers.
“Oh, my God,” Mel exclaimed. “This is fabulous. We didn’t have this at the national university.”
A couple of walls were lined with old-fashioned paper books. Jeremy smiled. “We had to keep the scientists’ minds busy. You’ve got a world-class library.”
Jeremy led them back into the big hallway. The other arm of the U emptied into the largest space they’d seen. Sam looked up and saw the steel track above, and retracted doors on each side of the openings. The scientists could cut themselves off from the others.
“The auditorium is for meetings and entertainment. That wall is a screen—you can watch movies forever.” Jeremy waved his arms and talked and the others oohed and aahed. “OK, here’s the dorm.” Jeremy moved farther away from the VIP area. “This was made for the soldiers. We planned on having a small military force, mostly to teach the others martial arts. They’d stay in these rooms.”
Sam looked in suspiciously. Small rooms, each of which had a steel door. These were cells, not dorms. Did Jeremy take him for a fool?
“Since the whole village will be coming down here now, I think this would make a great place for your people to live, Sam,” Jeremy said innocently.
Sam smiled stiffly and turned back to the big room. His hand brushed his jacket pocket, nudging the flask he’d carried all day. If he started to get the shakes or see snakes crawling up the walls, he had what he needed to make them go away. This was the first time he’d thought of the hooch. How could they live down here?
“Let me show you
the fields.” Jeremy took off at a fast walk with everyone trailing behind him. They found themselves in the farthest corners of the shelter in an underground greenhouse.
“Here are the fields.” Jeremy proudly indicated long, raised concrete beds that bristled with greenery. “I got them started over the last six months. These are soybeans—they’ll be a staple and good source of protein. Here are more vegetables.” The end of the growing area was a citrus orchard. “Oranges, tangerines, and lemons. To prevent scurvy.”
Sam reached out and touched the only life in the place. He ran his hands over the healthy leaves and looked up at windows in the ceiling far above.
“The sun comes in through the glass panels; it’s diverted over here, turned back to sunlight with those panels,” Jeremy explained. “People can come back here, too, to get sunlight. I’ll shut the metal deflectors so they protect the solar equipment during the blasts. You can open them up right after the blasts stop. The area’s sealed: no transfer of radioactivity.
“It’s mostly automatic. Over here, with the dirt floor, is where the livestock will be kept. I’ve got systems that will convert waste—all waste—into fertilizer.”
Jeremy led them back toward the stairs. “There are three ways out of the shelter. One’s the way we came in. There’s a smaller door that opens into the back lawn. Then there’s the canary hole by the fields.”
“It’s a masterpiece,” Henry said. “When I saw you building it, I didn’t think you’d be able to do it, Jer. But you did. It’s really something.” He applauded and the others followed, all but Sam and Rupert.
Sam would rather lie under the ground and rot than live here.
“Jeremy?” A tiny voice squeaked from the top of the stairs.
“Ellie?” Jeremy asked. “We’re down here. Come down.”
“Ellie scared.” Her voice trembled.
“Come down, Ellie. We’re all here. It’s fine,” Henry called.
If Sam hadn’t seen her do it, he would have called whoever told him about it a liar. She appeared in the top doorway, leaped off that and over the following steps, bounced though the next door, leaped and bounced, and stood by them in an instant, faster than if she’d flown. Her little hooves made a tapping sound as she settled.
“Wow, Ellie,” Jeremy said for all of them. She cuddled up close to him, looking up at Sam and Rupert. “You met them outside, Ellie. Remember?”
Her eyes and hair flashed silver and the sequined dress sparkled, as did the pretties in her hair and around her neck. She stared at Sam, needing only wings to be a true angel. Her eyes were wide and innocent, slanted up at the edges. Her little mouth turned up at the sides, too. He felt her soul, the way he had when he had met her up on the lawn.
“Angel,” he said, “tell me about where yer home. Is i’ like here?”
She looked back, and he realized she couldn’t speak very well in Jeremy’s world. Which was fine with him; neither could he. She could talk to him perfectly well without words, but the others couldn’t understand.
“Is big,” she said.
What a lovely little voice she had, Sam thought. Like a cricket, if it could speak.
“As big as Earth?” Mel asked.
“As big as the village?” Sam asked.
She shrugged. “Big. Gold, all gold. Light all over and music.” They could see images of her world in the corners and edges of their minds. “Tall and gold. My people gold, all gold. Beautiful.”
“Are there many people?” Lena asked.
“Many. And children. And pets. Báslikay! Many báslikay!”
“That’s what she called the dogs,” Lena said.
“Who runs it, Ellie?” Mel asked.
“Elders. Wise. Old.”
“Do you have a family?” Henry asked.
“Mother.” Ellie looked down. How could she explain that in her world, there weren’t mothers or fathers? People were all the same. Boys and girls came only with English, where the words he and she existed, and from people like Earth people who were boys and girls.
She didn’t have words to explain that the children, like her, were from other places, other planets, brought to the golden world to make the grown-ups happy. That she wasn’t really her mother’s child and she wasn’t from the golden planet, either. The golden ones couldn’t have children, and their world was dying because of that. She was there to save her planet and her people, even though she wasn’t really one of them. She loved her mother and the golden people enough to die for them. She didn’t have the words to say these things, but her eyes grew full of moisture.
“Oh, dear. Henry, you’ve made her sad,” Lena chided. “She must have lost her father. And you know how homesick she gets.”
“Are there trees in your land, and water?” Sam had to know.
“No water!” She looked horrified. “No water! Water hurt you.” A moment later, “No trees. Gold walls and paths. And bells. Many bells.”
“Why that sounds lovely,” Lena said. “Do you have concerts? Where people play music together?”
“Yes, and sing! I dance!” She did a rat-a-tat with her hooves like a flamenco dancer. “Music. And painting.”
“How’s the food?” James asked.
“Lots food! Everyone have lots—and have place to sleep. All have lots.” She raised her hands, indicating bounty.
“No homelessness and no poverty. Great cultural life.” Mel looked at the others. “Not bad.”
“Do ye raise things there? Sheep and cattle? Do y’ have horses?”
She stared at Sam, looking like she had no idea what he was talking about. He realized she hadn’t been to the barn or seen the cattle in the fields. He felt something come from her as he had when they first met, something like tendrils of thought. They reached him and she understood.
“No animals but pets. No eat dead animal! Make sick.” She looked revolted.
“She’s a vegetarian, Sam,” Lena said. “Ate uncooked grits at our house. No water. She’s scared stiff of water.”
Sam could live without meat, especially if there wasn’t any. “No trees?”
“No trees. No flowers, just gold. See through it. Sun bright, all time. And moons! Lots moons!”
Sam didn’t know if he could live in such a place. “How about dirt? Is there any dirt?”
“No dirt. Gold and light. People and music and pets and children.”
“Do they have wars and atomic weapons? Is there much crime?” Mel asked.
“What is war? What is crime?”
“When people hurt each other.”
Ellie recoiled. “No hurt person. Why hurt person?”
“Never mind. That’s good enough. Will we get to go? Will they ask us?” Mel looked ready. She stood quietly, listening for the sweet trilling sound in her mind that her people used to communicate with her. Nothing. Standing on one hoof, she laid her other foot across her knee and rapped it with her fingertips. Again, nothing. The lovely chiming from her world was silent, as it had been since she’d found the school. Eliana shook her head. A moment later, she opened a jeweled purse she carried. She fingered something. Flashing light came out.
“They no say,” she replied. “Not yet.”
41
The cold hit her like a million rubber hoses. Her breathing stopped and her heart jolted. Val had planned on staying underwater as long as she could to hide from the dog. Once in the river, she didn’t have any option: the cold had shocked her stiff. She couldn’t push herself out. Couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. The frigid water held her in icy claws.
Come on! Come on! Something inside her screamed. You’ve got to get air. Lights sparkled in her head when she finally shoved against the river bottom, pushing with her thighs, forcing her face above water. She gasped as the current snatched her away. She clawed and sputtered, fighting blindly.
A fallen tree saved her. She drifted past it, numb. Her legs, held down by the boots, tangled in the branches. Val pulled herself up the trunk and out of the water.
The wind blasted her. She was as cold out of the water as in it. Light flickered in the trees above. She ducked under the tree trunk, huddling on a tiny patch of muddy shore. Was that the monster?
Shivering took her. She curled into a ball. How could she survive? What should she do? Val saw something fluttering on the bank. She reached for it without thinking. A plastic bag. Garbage. It was all over; the tree pulled it in from the river. Her back against the tree, she pulled her weapon from her holster and checked it. It was fine. She wrapped it in the plastic bag, then in another bag, and replaced it in her holster.
Her pistol was supposed to be waterproof, but who knew how long that would last under these conditions? Having taken care of her weapon, she looked around, ignoring her shaking body. The river flowed to her left, toward the Atlantic. To her right and across the river, probably not too far away, was the estate. It was on the Atlantic shore, perched on a narrow bay. The river ran parallel to it. The estate was huge, pointing inland like a finger. The road she’d been on was the access. It ran along the property’s boundary, crossed the river, and then backtracked to the main house.
How could she get over there and not be eaten by the monster? Without a thought, Val picked up where she’d been before the explosion. She’d been made for this, from the time she was one of six little girls in a pink room, from the time she killed her sister, and then went to war for real.
The cold didn’t bother her enough to slow her down; none of it bothered her. The missiles would go off tomorrow, or not. Who cared? She’d go to the front if she didn’t die tomorrow. What difference did anything make? She’d be made bureau chief, or not. What the fuck did it matter?
Nothing would stop her. Val was on a mission authorized by the president of the United States. She always completed her mission. She would get to the estate and kill anyone she found. She’d go out in a blaze even her supervisor wouldn’t believe.