Beyond Ever Blue Skies

by Clive S. Johnson

  “There’s a few things we didn’t know about last time, Steph,” and he reached around her and touched the edge of the handlebar’s small display panel. The “SEAL”, “POWER” and “OPEN” legends faded to a busier display.

  “This is the air quality gauge, see?” and he pointed down into one corner. “All that green is good, breathable air, amber the time we’d have left to get back down, and… Well, we don’t want to go into the red, so keep a close eye on it for me, Steph.”

  She nodded. “Should I tell you as soon as we lose the green?”

  “Exactly. I also want you to watch this figure, here,” and again he directed her gaze. “When it gets to two-thousand, I want you to count me down to two-thousand-and-twenty-four.” She repeated the two numbers back to him. “That’ll leave me free to watch out for where we’re going, just in case Ken’s not aware of any damage that might be in our path.”

  He drew a deep breath. “Okay, Steph. We’re almost set. Just need to select the right rail.” He tapped his finger on the number “3” of an ascending sequence along the top of the display panel and a faint whirring sound came from the base of the pod. “Ready?”

  She nodded and noticeably tensed between his arms.

  When he gently twisted the grip, the pod smoothly moved off sideways, close above the upper surface of the sky below. On the screen appeared a diagram, the red dot of the pod creeping along a line beside which the number “3” lazily flashed. Morgan increased their speed until the dot neared where the line bent upwards, whereupon he slowed them for the turn.

  He stared up as they then rose straight towards the roof, swiftly leaving behind the sky below. Slowing for the turn along the underside of the roof, he then sped them on, slanting towards the steady curve that would take them ever upwards into the shaft. The barely visible surface of the sky had by now lost its honeycombed appearance, soon becoming little more than a featureless floor far below.

  Morgan snatched a look out, across its surface, surprised to find what he’d hoped to see. He slowed them to a halt and pointed.

  “There you go, Steph. Looks like you were right.” Slightly lighter than the vast surface from which it rose, something wedge-shaped stood proud, surrounded by a jagged black border. “It’s a bit hard to tell in this light, but I reckon that’s your lump of shaft wall sticking up over there.”

  “Oh yes. It’s nearer than I thought it would be. But it’s obvious now why the sky couldn’t be repaired, not with that massive lump stuck in it.”

  “And if they couldn’t remove it, they’d have had to have built around it.”

  Looking at a slant ahead once more, Morgan twisted the grip and pushed them on at speed. “Don’t forget to keep an eye on that number, though, Steph.”

  “I won’t. Only at six-fifty so far, but there’s already a bit less of the green showing on the air gauge.”

  Morgan explained that the pods were clearly meant for only one occupant. “That’s why we’re sharing this chair, Steph, and why Ken thought we’d more air left than we had that first time. So, we can’t afford to hang around, not this…”

  The hole in the far side of the shaft had come into view and Morgan’s jaw now dropped. Still well above their own height, its jagged edge—the one they’d previously almost smashed into—now lacked any outlining glints of subtle blue, overpowered as it was by a glare of yellow light striking the wall to one side. But through it, Morgan was sure he saw a field of pinpoint lights, across one side of which ran a shallow dark blue arc, one that steadily shrank away, as though it had never been.

  “Wow,” Stephanie breathed. “It might only be damage, but it looks so beautiful.”

  By now the yellow splash of light had encroached further across the hole, blinding them to whatever they’d briefly seen beyond. Even at the distance, its jagged edge was clearly formed of torn metal, bent and twisted pipes and conduits, and all manner of misshapen features that jutted out into the void of the shaft.

  “To think,” Morgan whispered, “we nearly ran smack-bang into that.”

  “You’re right, Morgan, it doesn’t bear thinking about,” but he heard her swallow, hard, unable to take her eyes from the sight until Morgan asked after the number she was supposed to be keeping an eye on.

  She dragged her eyes away and glanced down. “It’s okay, just twelve-hundred. Still a way to go.”

  They were some few minutes more climbing rapidly, Morgan peering up for fear of hitting the hole on their side, before Stephanie called “Two-thousand”. He slowed them right down as she counted off the remaining numbers. When she reached two-thousand-and-twenty-four, Morgan halted the pod then twisted the other grip to spin the chair around to face the wall. He tapped the display panel on the handlebars and the outer surface of the glass sphere somehow glowed brightly, clearly lighting a large grey box on the wall, its door labelled “M-COM-J-4199”.

  “This is it, Steph: our last task.”

  “But how are you going to get into it?”

  “Watch.”

  Morgan told her to duck her head down before again tapping the display. A whirring sound came from the base of the sphere and a robotic arm appeared from below, unfolding and angling up so its strangely human hand hovered a foot or so from the cabinet door. Even Morgan was taken aback by the way its movements seemed so spookily lifelike. Then a double-cone of hair-thin beams of blue light shot from the cowl about his head, straight over Stephanie’s own and through the sphere’s glass. They struck the cabinet door in a symmetrical pattern of half a dozen bright blue dots.

  Stephanie leant to one side and lifted her face, clearly peering in wonder at the pattern. “What is it, Morgan?”

  “Here, I’ll show you,” and he raised his hand into the space where the beams all crossed near to one another, his hand picked out in six different places. Another tap on the display with his other hand, and the robot’s own now mimicked Morgan’s raised one as he clasped and unclasped it. Another few taps and the robot’s index finger sprouted a keyed tool.

  “Well,” he said, breathing in sharply, “here we go.” He moved his hand forward, pointing his finger, and inserted the robot’s tooled counterpart into a small hole at the bottom of the door. Then he twisted his hand and the metal hand beyond the sphere’s glass did the same. Utterly silently, the door jerked towards them a touch, clearly hinged at the top.

  A last tap on the display and the tool drew back into the robot’s finger and Morgan successfully mimed opening the door and latching it up. Another array of sockets now stood before them, most sprouting a cable.

  Morgan lifted the robot hand to the inside of the door above, where a number of short spare cables were clipped into holders. Carefully, he removed one by one of its plugs and lowered it to two rows of vacant sockets. Blinking to one side, he again consulted Ken’s instructions then moved the plug to a specific socket on the lower row, offering it up and silently pushing it home.

  Taking the plug at the other end of the cable, he offered this one up to the socket directly above—but then Morgan stopped before inserting it and doused the blue beams.

  Stephanie turned to stare at him. “That’s not it, surely, Morgan? Shouldn’t they both be plugged in?”

  Morgan thought of the void again, the one he’d seen light up so warmly in the glow of a plan. But now, now into the immediacy of the endgame, he felt the cold hand of doubt reach in, a hand not unlike the eerie robotic one that still held the plug rocksteady before the unfilled socket.

  His voice sounded like someone else’s when he quietly answered “Yes” to Stephanie, when he then affirmed: “Indeed they should.” Relief, though, flooded through him when his voice eventually filled with a resolve he feared he’d lost as he told her, “But I’m afraid there’s someone I need to speak to first—before I finally decide.”

  25 A Threat

  “Rosie?” he said, firmly.

  “Yes, Morgan?” immediately filled his and only his hearing.

  “Do you have a con
nection yet?”

  “I do, Morgan: ‘M-COM-J Control System’.”

  “Good. Can you link through from it to Rundkern’s general comms network?”

  “Please wait; I’ll check…”

  “What’s going on, Morgan?” Stephanie asked, sounding distinctly worried. “Who do you have to speak to? And why now?”

  “Link established, Morgan,” Rosie now let him know.

  “Perry?” he said aloud, raising a hand to quieten Stephanie.

  “Yes, Morgan?”

  “Can you share workspace with Rosie?”

  “Yes. Now established, but I need to tell you I’ve lost my own connection.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Perry. Just pass Rosie Edsel’s contact details, please.”

  “Done.”

  “Thank you—”

  “Edsel? My uncle Edsel?” and Stephanie’s voice trembled. “Why in Rundkern do you need to—”

  “Rosie, would you please call Edsel?” Morgan said, raising his voice over Stephanie’s.

  “Calling.”

  Stephanie almost screamed, “You can’t, Morgan. What are you doing?”

  The call remained unanswered long enough for Morgan’s resolve to falter and for Stephanie to protest even more. But then, sounding out of breath, Edsel finally answered, “What do you want, Morgan? This ain’t the best time.”

  “Listen to me, Edsel; listen carefully—it’s important,” and Stephanie finally fell silent.

  Then only her short and rapid breathing filled Morgan’s hearing, until a sigh came from Edsel followed by a few whispered words that Morgan couldn’t quite make out. “All right,” the man finally growled into Morgan’s ear. “What is it? And be quick about it; I’m busy.”

  “I wanted you to know I’m now staring at the completion of Connie-Jay’s link with Ken, once I plug something in, but that if I do, it won’t become active until after a reboot tonight.”

  Edsel remained silent.

  “I suggest you get her to wait in Erebus overnight for when it does go live. Probably the early hours of tomorrow morning. I’m sure they’ll both be keen to speak to each other as soon as they can. But before that can happen, there’s something I need to be sure you understand.”

  Still nothing came back from Edsel. Morgan checked the connection—still active—then gathered his resolve.

  “There’s something I want you in particular to know, Edsel.” This time he did wait.

  “Go on,” eventually growled back.

  “I’m only going to complete this last task once I’m happy you…you understand what I’m about to tell you.”

  Stephanie was now shaking her head at Morgan, but a reluctant grunt came back from Edsel.

  “Connie-Jay’s connection to Ken,” Morgan told him, “will be like a chain, one with lot of links, many of which I can sever at a moment’s notice; in the blink of an eye, so to speak.”

  Another pause followed, then Edsel said, “I’m sure that’s all very interesting, Morgan, but if that’s all, can you just get on with—”

  “You can also tell Connie-Jay that me and Steph will be joining her in Erebus. We’ll be there in good time for when Ken contacts her—that’s if I do decide to finish off this link,” and again he waited for Edsel to say something. Stephanie nudged him and pointed at the air gauge: little of the green remained.

  “Shit,” he said to himself, then, “Do you hear what I’m saying, Edsel?”

  “I hear you. You just get on with finishing it off. I’ll let Connie-Jay know, then, I suppose, I’ll see you both at Erebus, later. Now, I’m in a rush, so…” and Edsel abruptly disconnected.

  Stephanie stared at him, thunder on her face. “What are you playing at, Morgan? Do you know what you’ve done, you fool? If you weren’t before, you’re a dead man now. You don’t go threatening a man like my uncle. Do you think he doesn’t have dozens of ways of killing someone before they’d even know what’s hit them? Like in your sleep, for one.”

  As he felt that lonely void return, now swilling in to fill his guts once more, he also noticed the air gauge no longer showed green. “We’ve got to get straight back down, Steph,” and he was about to twist the grip when Stephanie grabbed his hand.

  “But what about finishing off the link?”

  He remembered the robotic arm and stared out at its poised hand. “If what you say about him’s true, Steph, then there’s no way I can finish this off, not now. I’d be signing my own death warrant.”

  She pulled his hand close to her chest and stared hard into his eyes. “Why didn’t you trust me, Morgan? Why?”

  “Why did you lie to me earlier?”

  She froze and stared at him for a moment then dropped her gaze to his hand at her breast, which soon rose as she took a deep breath. “I… I couldn’t tell you why I was delayed getting the food today, or why yesterday I asked you just to trust me, because… Because I knew you wouldn’t agree to what I’ve had to do to keep you safe.”

  “What you’ve had to do?”

  She glanced at the air gauge, dragging Morgan’s gaze to notice it was now well into the orange. “Please, Morgan. I love you, so you’ve got to trust me. I’ll tell you everything when you’ve pushed that plug in and we’re going down. But not until. We haven’t got time.”

  He stared blindly at the robotic arm, at the plug in its hand, vainly trying to decide what to do next.

  “I truly do love you, Morgan. I do. I always will. Everything I’ve done has been to keep you safe. You must believe me. But not just you, Morgan; not just you.”

  She gripped his hand and pressed it even more firmly between her breasts. “Oh, my love, you’ve got to trust me, as you should’ve done all along. I’m sorry I’ve kept things from you, I really am, but you’ll see why when I explain. But for now, Morgan, my love, my heart, please…plug that damned cable in and get us down—now, do you hear, before it’s too late for us all.”

  26 Retribution

  “You’d better be being straight with me, Steph,” and Morgan blew out a long breath before finally reconnecting with the robotic arm and pushing the plug home. Stephanie looked visibly relieved.

  Once he’d closed the cabinet, stored the arm away and turned the chair back to face away from the wall, he clamped the seat between his legs and gripped Stephanie around her waist. With his other hand he twisted the grip sharply down—and they plummeted.

  “Right,” he said, trying to keep his voice level, trying not to doubt the wisdom of his decision to finish off Ken’s tasks. “You’d better tell me what’s going on.”

  Stephanie seemed unable to speak, or unwilling.

  “Well?”

  She stared out at the dimming cavern, the yellow splash of light now off to one side slipping higher above them as they continued to plummet. But then, sucking in a sharp breath of resolve, she finally forced her words out.

  “Connie-Jay is an old woman, Morgan, and as you’ve probably gathered, well past the age when she should have handed over to someone younger.”

  “But she still seems pretty vigorous.”

  “She is, but not enough to go to The Promised Land. My uncle said she’d told him it would kill her.”

  “Kill her?”

  “He says a younger, new colonus is needed, someone to lead the chosen in their new life there. Someone strong, strong enough to…to ‘Rule over them’, to quote his own words.”

  “Rule? Sounds a bit…well, a bit primitive.”

  “But apparently, only Ken can decide who the next colonus will be. That’s why it’s been so long in coming.”

  “So, I suppose that’ll be one of the first things he’ll have to do once tonight’s over. But where’s this going, Steph? What’s it got to do with what you’ve done?”

  “Who do you think’s convinced he has to be that new colonus, eh, Morgan? Who do you reckon?”

  Morgan realised his mouth now hung open. “Edsel?” he almost whispered. “But…but if the decision’s Ken’s, then how can he ex
pect to…” He darted a look at the steadily receding shaft above, at the now distant hole in its far side. Then he peered down into the gloom where he imagined Caelum to be.

  “He’s a forceful man, Morgan. Has to have his own way, always, and he can be very…persuasive.”

  “And he knows I talked with Ken; knows where we went to do it. I even took him through how to get us out of the glass sphere, so he’ll soon work out it’s just the reverse to get in. But…but he wouldn’t know how to operate the sphere itself, would he, Steph? Unless you’ve told him.”

  Morgan snatched his gaze from Stephanie’s averted eyes and stared back up the shaft, now slowly slipping away beyond the curve of the wall as it steadily levelled towards becoming a roof once more.

  “But Edsel would never be able to get in to Caelum itself,” Morgan argued, “his fingerprint wouldn’t… Ah, so that’s what he was doing when he took his time closing its door. I should’ve realised. I suppose he foiled the locking mechanism somehow; is that it, Steph? Another of his many nefarious talents?”

  “He can’t be allowed to talk Ken into making him Connie-Jay’s successor, Morgan. He can’t. Not a monster like him, not in The Promised Land. Imagine the world he’d create there. Imagine it, Morgan. There was no way I was going to allow that to happen. But he kept on hassling me, wanting to know how we got to talk with Ken, all the details. Why I should help him—what he would do if I didn’t.”

  “So you told him, but…but you didn’t tell him about the damage, did you, Steph, about the hole?”

  Morgan closed his eyes for a moment, trying to take in what Stephanie had done. “We’ll have to go tell him, Steph, before it’s too late and he tries going up to speak with Ken; we’ll have to explain that, when you told him, you didn’t know it wouldn’t work, not without Ken expecting him.”

  Then it struck Morgan; the timing: Stephanie’s long delay getting back from the café after having just learnt how soon the link would be ready, how out of breath Edsel had seemed, his keenness to get on with something.