Blood oozed from the thousands of vials, seeping through the cracked glass, puddling beneath the shelves. Her heart sank when images of Nolan’s smile faded from her mind. A distant thought had come to pass, one where Nolan came back like the others, like her, and was aware too. But the sound proved too much, and any hope of using the machine’s computers to resurrect her lost love disappeared into a bloody puddle. As if confirming this last thought, the round window splintered and exploded, spitting shards of glass in a tantrum. Isla tumbled backward, falling into Phil’s outstretched arms. He had followed her, catching her before she hit the floor.
Maybe he knew, she questioned. Maybe he knew about my Nolan.
She turned to thank him, but stopped. In his expression she saw a kind of relief that she had known once a long time ago. It was the relief that ended her pain, and opened her eyes to a world she could never have know existed.
“You’re free,” she mouthed, hoping he understood. She cried for him then, and felt the stabbing pain of a memory cut into her wrists. “You’re free, Phil.” And when she found his eyes, she saw a thousand years of turmoil begin to melt. She hitched up onto her toes, kissing the tears away from his face before placing her lips on his and embracing him. His chest tightened and then became loose as sobs riddled his breathing.
“It’s over,” he managed to whisper past the ringing in her ear. “I can feel it.”
When the sound ended, she and Phil stood in the quiet, searching the room for to take measure of the remains. They waited. Isla scoured the walls, tentative and nervous like a guilty child hoping that her parents didn’t see what she had just done. Once she spied the light on the wall, trying to catch an accusatory glance. To her relief, the lights stayed dark and empty, dimmed for the first time in centuries, and maybe forever.
20
Excitement of what Phil and Isla started kept the pain away. But when the lights went out forever, and the blood vault ceased to function, Declan began to feel the burns on his face and ears. He wanted to scream, but held it in. His lungs felt like the fire had scorched his soul—a retaliation for having destroyed the machine’s soul.
Sammi and the baby will be safe. With this last thought, he dismissed his injuries.
Declan carefully peeled his hands away from his ears and realized that one of his ears was gone. Blood crept through the sooty stains on his arms and hands, and he began to wonder how badly his face looked. Carefully, he touched his cheeks and then his mouth.
The lab had been nearly destroyed. Piles of glass puddled with liquids of all different colors—some of it still dripping to the floor. Isla and Phil stood by the blood vault, hugging and crying together, finding one another in the success of their system attack. The need to be with Sammi became strong and replaced all other urgencies. His heart swelled at the thought of being a father. He glanced at the shattered lights, and his heart swelled even more, knowing that his chosen was back and safe: forever. The machine had tried to take away their world, and in stopping it, they had brought her back to him. He watched Isla and Phil, grateful for what they had done.
How can I ever repay them?
“Come back with me,” Declan blurted, breaking the silence.
“It sounds funny, now,” Isla answered, ignoring what Declan asked of them. She motioned to the ventilation system above her. Phil and Declan followed her hand, looking to the ceiling. “The air exchange is on, but something is missing.”
“No more mining,” Phil exclaimed, nodding aggressively. “It’s truly shut down.”
“We blew that up,” Declan added. Wiping at the black char on his hands, “I don’t think it is possible that the soul will ever work again.”
“Well, that is part of it, but the rest is tuned off,” Phil said. “For good this time too. Any signs of the other machines looping back to reset?”
They made their way over to the terminal’s screen. Declan picked up a chair, placing it at the table for Isla to sit. Every part of him had become stiff as the sudden feeling of burned skin stretched and peeled apart. He screamed, dropping the chair.
“Let me,” Phil said, offering another chair for him to sit down. “You need to get some of the burns looked at. We’ll gather some supplies for you to take with you.”
“You’re not coming?” Declan asked. “And you?”
“I may,” Isla answered. He heard a reservation in her voice. “But only to visit our Commune, to see if there is anyone that might remember me, or to see if my younger brother is still alive.”
“And then?” Phil asked her.
Isla took Phil’s hand and fixed her eyes on him. Declan saw a gleam that sparked and shined in her expression. He saw a beauty that he had overlooked before. She was more than an odd young girl; she was a beautiful woman.
“My place is here,” she announced, glancing at Declan and then back to Phil. “We have a responsibility to everyone that is waking up. Someone needs to help them.”
“The zombies?” Declan asked. His voice rose with disgust. “Leave them.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Phil told him. “They are going to become aware. Like us. Like Sammi.” Declan understood. More than that, he recognized the daunting task ahead of them.
Isla turned back, tapping against the terminal and at once the screen lit up. The panel filled with characters streaming across it, windows popping to the foreground that Declan tried to read, but couldn’t. Isla traced the text messages with her fingers, reading each of them, her lips moving in a silent exercise as she raced from message to message and window to window.
“There is a lot of talk from me… I mean from the others,” she told them. She continued tracing the text messages, a satisfied grin emerging and becoming broad. A laugh slipped, which she was quick to catch, pressing her fingers to her lips. “They’re all talking to one another—that didn’t take long.”
“Like sisters,” Phil added and rubbed her back. Isla’s expression slowly changed then, her smile drawing downward and firm like a tight line. “What? What is it?”
“There’s someone with them,” she said.
“Which one?”
“All of them.”
Angst volleyed in Declan’s gut. “We’re going to lose the end of gray skies, aren’t we?” Phil’s hand shot up into the air to hush him before he could say another word.
“Who is there,” Phil asks calmly. Declan could sense the fear as Isla tried to answer Phil’s question.
“It’s… it’s you.”
Phil’s body became rigid as he straightened himself and brushed his hands over of his front, clearing away nothing. “Well, I suppose that does make sense,” he explained and continued to prim his coveralls as if readying to meet them. “That makes complete sense, having the lead architect at each of the machines.”
“He’s helping!” Isla quickly added “He’s working with each of me, keeping the machines off.”
“Good! That’s good.” Phil said.
“Come with me,” Declan interrupted, repeating his earlier offer and struggling to understand the sense of obligation Isla spoke of. “Come back to the Commune.”
Isla and Phil exchanged a brief glance, but Declan could see it was only cursory and with little consideration. They had made up their minds to stay, and nothing he could say or do would convince them to leave. As if to confirm this, Isla was the first to begin shaking her head. Phil followed, extending his hand toward Declan.
“I’m grateful to you for what you’ve done here today,” Phil began, choking up and swiping at his cheek. “You take care of yourself and Sammi and your baby… and come back to visit. I think there is much here that can be shared.” Declan nodded, pulling the strange man into his arms, thanking him.
“We will,” Declan told him. Isla waved, and then turned back to the terminal, tapping away at one of a half dozen conversations with her sisters.
“Take care of that,” Phil added, motioning to his burns. “Don’t want you to get sick after all this.”
>
Declan left the room, never to return, but in his heart he knew that he would see Isla and Phil again. Maybe a picnic on the beach with Sammi and there yet to be named child—he then considered Phil if their baby was a boy, and Isla if their baby was a girl.
21
The machine was different. The corridors were filled with a thousand confused stares—chins pitched up, searching the empty lights on the walls. The outside of the machine looked different too. The skin was no longer an animation of color, forever looking fresh, it had dulled like the skin of an apple past its time. To Declan the machine looked less alive. But there is life inside, he reminded himself.
The sun had begun to peer through a break in the sky, hinting that more of it would show soon. And to the furthest left and right, breaks of blue sky rippled in between the gray and white, expanding and moving as if dancing to a silent tune. A breeze stirred from somewhere deep offshore, tipping the edge of a breaking wave and sending the briny smell to waft past Declan. But it was different now—like a soothing cover, and no longer riddled with an acrid coat that chapped his skin.
He shuddered in the cool breeze, the burns on his arms and face playing a fickle game of pain and chills. He dug his foot into stand, stepping forward, covering his eyes against a glare that was truly alien to him. In the distance, the air shimmered atop the beach, baking from a heat that had not reached the Earth in a thousand years. And past the shaky images, Declan found the small party that he had left behind.
Sammi waved and pointed up at the sky, her slender body dancing in the playful light. He waved back to her and quickly pushed his hands down when he saw the Outsiders. The leader waved, throwing his arms upward in a quick snap and screamed the word victory. Declan raised his hand up, matching his, and then watched as they took leave of the group. He wondered if anyone would ever miss Harold, or notice that he was gone? Or if anyone even cared?
He heard the shrill sound of Sammi’s voice and saw her waving again. She pointed to the ocean, urgency in the way she jumped up and down. Declan followed her hand, finding the first of the rainbows. Not since one of Andie’s projections had he seen such an amazing sight.
Gray rainbows jutted down from the fractured dark clouds, splitting open with deep blue threads and yellowing light that bled through. The pain from the burns disappeared in a cozy breeze from the sea, and he dropped to his knees, fixing to watch the end of gray skies. The gray rainbows became more brilliant as they reached down, touching the ocean where they turned into the perfect union of color. And in that miraculous union, Declan saw bands of red and yellow and green and blues, and other colors that he had no names for.
His heart sat in his throat, and he tried to reach out and touch a small rainbow that appeared in front of him. Within moments, more of them appeared, floating all around him as warm moisture lifted into the air and passed through the beaming sunlight. When his finger touched the color, he pulled back, uncertain of what to expect. His finger passed through the colors and spurred a laugh that mixed with tears filling his eyes.
More of the dark clouds split open and lifted into nothingness, letting the colors grow wildly upward like a flower from the farming floor. The colors replaced the grays forever. Declan cried at the images before him. He cried even more when Sammi was nearer to him. Her beauty shined in the sunlight in a way that he had only seen once before. But today that beauty would not be eclipsed by her death. Instead, it was a testament to their new life.
Ms. Gilly and his father approached next, but Declan could not hold on and fell forward onto his hands, exhausted.
“Sammi,” he managed to call out. His voice felt rough and sounded hoarse.
“Declan!” she yelled, dropping down next to him. Red hair flew around him as she carefully peppered his face with kisses. “Oh Declan, look at you!”
“Isn’t it wonderful,” he answered. Ms. Gilly and his father joined. Their eyes fixed on him with worry, but he shrugged it off, not wanting them to miss what was happening all around them. “It’s over. We ended it.”
Tears stained their faces, and smiles kept the words from coming as they hugged each other, continuing to watch the rainbows take flight.
A soft, delicious wind rushed up the coast, sending Sammi’s long hair into the air.
“Smell that?” his father asked.
“So fresh,” Ms. Gilly answered.
And over the breaking waves, Declan could see forever. Finally, he could see the giant surf far from their shores that roared and rumbled in hiding all of his life. The ocean was larger than anything he could have imagined—a vast sea of blue reflecting the open sky. Tears washed the stain of the fire away, and for a long time he could say nothing. He held his chosen, thankful to have her back.
“Amazing,” his father said. “Just amazing. Look over there.”
From the furthest edge of the black sands, the grounds began to turn and change color. With the strong sunlight, the brown they had known forever had already started to fade. A green vine appeared at the edged of the beach, crawling through the decay. The vine stretched like a long finger and then suddenly bloomed, exploding a collection of small yellow flowers.
“Is it supposed to happen that fast?” Sammi asked.
“Maybe after a thousand years of waiting, things will move very fast,” Ms. Gilly answered, excitement shook in her voice. “I think they’re all waking up.”
The viney yellow flowers traveled the length of the beach, and more of the ground came to life, showing off colors that none of them had ever seen. And soon, the plants were climbing. Just a few small plants at first, growing upward, budding and opening into flowers that matched the colors in the rainbow. The sprouting greenery came to life in all shapes and sizes. Some of the flower petals were enormous, fitting in the palm of his hand. And as the blooms unfurled, the flowers turned to face the sun—reunited like lost lovers—they dipped their faces to take a sip of the golden daylight.
“Look over there,” Declan told them, and they turned to face their Commune. The distant buildings jutted up from the ground, crooked and decaying, covered in patches of black resin. To Declan, the Commune looked like a mouthful of jagged and rotten teeth, but it was home, and his heart ached to be there. He peered over and saw that everyone felt the same as each of them smiled at the site of the old buildings.
“I think it needs a little paint,” Ms. Gilly laughed.
“I think it needs a lot of paint,” Declan’s father added.
“It’s home,” Sammi said, her voice shaking. She took hold of Declan’s arm and joked, “I get to pick the color.”
EPILOGUE
Without the lights to drive the alien programming, Sammi never heard the call of the machine’s soul—the recycler. She went on to live a life with her chosen as had been their hope from the beginning.
Two. There hadn’t been just one child, but two that Declan and Sammi raised after the End of Gray Skies. But unlike their parents, the twins never knew a world without the sun. They never experienced the dread or felt the dangers of walking under the veil of gray—their world forever captured in a heavy fog. They played outside, untethered and ran freely with the warm touch of the sun.
Janice loved again, taking a chance with her heart, reaching out and asking Richard for his hand. Declan’s father had found his second love, but never forgot the pain of losing his first. He and Janice went on to work the school, only now they added something new to the curriculum: an afternoon recess held outdoors.
The executive floor was no more. With the machines shutdown, the executives disappeared, having run with the burden of guilt weighing on their shoulders. Some were found dead on the beaches—salt gnats cleaning the scourge of the earth (so to speak). And for those executives that tried to make a difference, like Declan’s mother, they found a new calling as a new leadership formed. Small governing bodies worked together to keep the Commune running, and the families fed. A democracy was born, borrowing from their history to help forge their future.<
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Declan often traveled to the machine, visiting with Phil and Isla. The two stayed together. They started a family of their own and created a new Commune for all that had become aware. Declan became an ambassador of sorts, visiting a few times a year, bringing back new technologies that would better their Commune.
Often, he would ask Sammi to go with him, but she never did. Shaking her head, turning away, her words a mere whisper about where her place was. Declan understood and stopped asking, but always enjoyed telling Sammi about the progress Phil and Isla had made.
In his walks to the machine, Declan often found himself staring up, his hand clapped against his brow, shielding his eyes from the glare. He looked for the alien star that Phil spoke of, wondering if they were still watching, wondering if they would return. But on his tenth visit, he decided to stop searching for what was not there.
With the End of Gray Skies, the world eased out of a thousand-year sleep, stretching blues and greens and reds all over the globe. The Earth sprang to life, and before anyone realized what was happening, trees grew, and flowers bloomed, and even the wet mossy coverings were replaced by wisps of tall green grass.
The first bird was spotted many years later. A white gull with mottled patches of brown covering its breast. Perched on the beach, stilted yellow legs, the bird drummed up bits of food from the surf. The birds were thought to have been gone forever, but soon more returned, making their homes in the fresh green of the trees. To Declan, they were like the rainbows—small feathered miracles, flying and singing, a living splash of color in the air.
THANK YOU
Thank you for reading Union. I do hope you enjoyed my book.
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