“11:30:00” arrived all too quickly and the room finally went dark, then “11:33:00” came far too soon upon its heels. Morgan silently counted down from forty.
At zero, a loud thud reverberated through the room and he felt his stomach go light as he gripped Stephanie’s hand tighter still.
Movement above his head dragged his gaze from the time and he looked up. The shiny domed ceiling had gained a grey hue that quickly grew brighter. Morgan then realised he was looking through glass, staring at a fast receding delta-shaped cavity in a vast expanse of dull grey metal that steadily angled away ahead of them.
“We’re… We’re falling, Steph,” he marvelled. “Falling out of the bottom of Rundkern!”
Then he saw that the surface carried ahead of them a receding procession of huge delta-shaped blisters, ones that were already progressively disappearing from sight beyond its curve. Morgan looked back at their recently vacated cavity and there saw the letter “J” hugely inscribed within it. Then more cavities followed on from behind, each boasting its own letter: “I” then “H” then “G”, until the obscuring curve forced him to surmise that “F” to “A” were as yet to appear.
“Shit, Steph, but we’re not the first!” Morgan marvelled, but she said nothing, no doubt held by the wonder of the ever-expanding sight.
At their now greater distance from the surface, stark edges became apparent at both sides, a stunningly frightening star-speckled blackness stretching out beyond them—real stars in a real sky, he marvelled.
Then he gasped, “It’s a band,” and Stephanie’s words finally came.
“A what, Morgan? What d’ya say it is?” and the strain in her voice confirmed she too was indeed staring up in wonder.
“A band of sections, Steph. It’s a band, I tell you… Damn it if it isn’t a ring, a round ring of sections. The round ring of Rundkern. I can’t believe it. We’ve been living in a…” but the whole idea finally stunned his voice.
Then something else crept into view to either side and way beyond the edges of the band, stark against the increasingly overwhelming star-peppered blackness. Progressively more of two barely spinning columns jutted out on both sides like the axles of a wheel, jets of sparkling light issuing from the tip of each but in opposite directions. As both they and the band imperceptibly tilted, Morgan realised the jets were ponderously turning Rundkern, until its revealed shape eventually hung suspended at an angle before his stupefied vision.
He now stared numbly at an enormous, slowly spinning four-spoked wheel, but one that seemed to be shrinking steadily faster into the distance as a huge plume of rippling light now shot out from the end of one axle. Vainly, and with a sinking heart, he tried to tell himself that that was his home up there. That that was where his family still lived, where everything he’d ever known and loved, and had now lost, carried on without him. All except Stephanie, of course, to whom he was about to turn when he noticed something about one of the wheel’s spokes.
Clearly visible at its midpoint, a huge hole brought back the memory of Edsel’s horrific departure. Morgan gasped, about to point it out to Stephanie when she complained that her arms had somehow gone light.
“We’re falling, Steph. Falling fast,” he said, unable to take his gaze from the hole until a glint of light out of the corner of his eye drew him to look over the young lad’s shoulder.
A bright sliver of yellow light now peeped above the lower edge of the glass dome. Slowly, it grew larger, brighter, a curve to it becoming evident before its brilliance hurt his eyes and he had to look away. But then he despaired when he could no longer find Rundkern against its vast background of stars.
The lad’s voice interrupted his now frenzied search: “Here, you’ll need these,” he said, and passed back two darkly tinted oblongs of thin glass, hooks at either end. When he briefly turned at their reticence, Morgan noticed he wore the same across his eyes, the hooks about his ears. “Against the light,” he explained, and Morgan snatched both items and passed one to Stephanie before fumbling to fit his own.
By now more of the yellow glare had risen above the dome’s edge, clearly a disc, but an inordinately bright one at some hard to tell distance away. Morgan reckoned it must be pretty close, though, to be so bright.
Slowly, the glaring yellow disc crept higher, filling the room with a stifling heat until a whirring sound began and cool air seeped in to displace it. Morgan felt the sweat between his and Stephanie’s palms chill and he finally turned to face her. She looked stunned, but her voice eventually came.
“My manuals may have prepared me for some of this, Morgan, but…” She stared past the featherer and tried to lean forward against her straps. Morgan followed her distracted gaze.
In the wake of the yellow disc, ahead of them and just above the edge of the dome, appeared a thin line that glinted a cold blue-white. Then, as the room abruptly lurched, it briefly broadened into a bowed sweep of swirling white light before just as abruptly dropping from sight. At another lurch it came again, higher this time, underpinned by a sinuous stretch of glittering blue.
Morgan remembered the two holes in the shaft above the false sky—in the spoke of the real wheel that was Rundkern. One had been fringed with bright yellow light, the other with glittering blue.
Without warning, he sank heavily into his seat, nothing now but the yellow disc and the cold black sky filling his view, not until his stomach went sickeningly light. This time a great expanse of swirling white and shimmering blue rose up to dominate the view, before the room lurched from side to side, jarring and jolting them violently this way and that.
The featherer’s hand now worked feverishly at something as he intently peered ahead through the dome’s glass. Darting shapes and lines had appeared on its inner surface, as though projected there. Then another almighty crash again left nothing but the yellow disc until a further sickening drop brought the great swell of blue and white back up to fill the view once more.
And on and on it went, the room lurching and slewing this way and that, the view beyond the glass likewise dancing before them, until the sheer beauty of what they were now clearly plummeting towards held still at last in Morgan’s vision.
Before them beckoned a great curve of calm and tranquil blues, a soothing sweep and swirl of pristine whites, and a sparse patchwork of browns and greens: The Promised Land in all its glory, Morgan finally realised. And then, as a hissing rush engulfed the dome, the whole room tilted back and all Morgan could then see was the majesty of the star-drenched sky.
A roar quickly grew about the room and the stars slipped behind a growing haze of fiery red and blue ribbons. Streaming up around the dome, they flickered away to taint what was left of the virgin white stars. Soon the roar grew even louder, the flames denser still as they finally obliterated both the stars and their lightless setting. By now the room no longer jolted and jarred but shuddered and juddered, rattling Morgan’s teeth as it blurred and smeared his vision, locking his limbs solid with fear.
How long it lasted, how long he stared wide-eyed at the growling flames thickly scorching past the glass, he’d no idea. But as its intensity gradually lessened and the room settled to a gentle sway, he became reassured to realise he still held Stephanie’s hand in his own.
The featherer startled him when he whooped loudly and punched the air. “Shit,” the lad enthused, “but this has to be one of the coolest video games ever.” The grin he then turned them prompted their own. “Now on to the next and last level,” and he whooped again before his grin grew even wider.
Morgan and Stephanie both sighed as one, but when Morgan started to relax, the lad’s last words finally sank in.
“Oh, bugger. Another level?”
35 In the Beginning
The flames had left grey scorch marks streaking the dome’s glass, but ones that paled into insignificance when the room finally tilted forward and a surrounding haze of thinning pale blue light came into view. It fringed a more sparsely star-studded black ca
nopy in which, above and ahead, the yellow disc now hung. The room’s gentle sway gave Morgan space at last to squint up at the thing as he tried to work out what and where it really was.
When he lowered his gaze, though, the hazy fringe seemed to have coalesced into a vast terrain of rounded white humps and bumps and layers that stretched out in all directions. He then noticed that the black dome above had shrunk, giving way as he watched to a pale blue sky that eventually completed its arch above them. The room by now seemed stationary, although Morgan assumed they must still have been moving, despite everything beyond the glass saying otherwise.
Adam’s voice again startled him, but this time he paid close attention.
“If I may remind you all? Your journey is not yet over. There will be a short respite before another but shorter period of discomfort ensues. Please take this time to compose yourself in readiness. Thank you.”
In a flash, the view vanished into a white and grey blur, the room swaying and dipping a little more. After a while, a muffled whirring sound came through the floor before the room sharply tilted backwards, throwing Morgan hard into his seat. It prompted him to look behind.
There he saw glimpses of something through tattered gaps in the wispy grey-white they were now clearly speeding through. Snatches of flat greens and jagged browns appeared, curves and loops and stretches of blue-greys, all seemingly motionless. It told Morgan they were still a long way above it all.
The room lurched, throwing him against the arm of his seat, but he couldn’t take his eyes from the view. Even when they tipped to one side, he still stared fixedly through the glass. Some of what he saw seemed to make sense, now the white had become intermittent and they’d appeared to have dropped much lower. Parts looked like he imagined their park would appear from above: stretches of green grass dotted by clumps of trees.
It looks so big, he marvelled to himself, so absolutely enormous, and then he understood Adam’s warning. He and Stephanie had already seen the vastness of the cavern above Rundkern’s sky, had been prepared in some slight way for the shock of what they were now seeing out there, beyond the glass. But what about all the other agri-engs, those who could conceive of a world little more than the length of one of Runkern’s avenues—the width of its wheel’s narrow rim? Then it struck him why all the alleys were offset, so the gentle curve of the floor beneath their feet would never be apparent.
When the white beyond the glass finally vanished altogether, the featherer startled Morgan from his revelations by calling out “Way-hey” as the room steadied into a long, sloping approach. “Bang on, Ken! Bang on,” the lad marvelled.
The yellow disc eventually shone down once more, but this time through gaps in the white stuff that now hung in lumps above them, gaps that revealed an otherwise familiar blue sky. When Morgan again took a look behind, all he saw was little more than long pale-green grass, although it rushed by in a blur.
“May I have your attention?” Adam’s voice announced. “Please brace yourselves again. We are about to arrive in The Promised Land. Your journey will soon be over, but please wait until all movement has ceased completely before releasing your seatbelts.”
A dark shadow swept out along the racing grass behind, now almost close enough to make out long tufts and strange feathery fronds. Morgan turned to face forward just as an almighty rumble coursed through the room, vibrating up through his seat. Then they lurched forward before a clatter and a rush of tremors vibrated through everything around him.
For a brief moment the room went still and silent before the noise returned with a vengeance. The cacophony not only deafened him but mercilessly shook and jarred his body, throwing him hard against his seat and its belt.
The room again jerked forward, tipping them down, the yellow disc shooting high above them. Morgan then let go of all reason as everything around him ground out its tortured screeches and groaned its terrified wails into their thundering wake. The room slewed sharply and shimmied, snaked as it bounced and leapt as it snagged, until Morgan was certain he could take no more.
Then, finally, a sickeningly sudden jolt and a yelp of pain at his side ushered in the swift fall of a stilled and eerie silence. Into it fell the odd distant but muffled crack, a few muted groans and a final but protracted crunch as the room slowly lurched to one side and settled.
Morgan held his breath for a long time whilst he stared uncomprehendingly at the room’s sloping floor. Despite his lungs screaming out for him to breathe and the painful glare of the yellow disc slanting down into his eyes, he failed to stir. Only when Stephanie groaned beside him did he finally gulp in a huge lungful of air and turn to her.
She groaned again, but he had to look down to see her face, now strangely angled against his arm. Blood trickled from her brow, a smear on her cheek.
“Quick,” he called, snatching off his eye-guard and vainly fumbling with his seatbelt’s buckle. “Quick, lad, get me out of this!”
The featherer’s glowing, almost intoxicated face appeared before him, young fingers quickly releasing his belt. As Morgan gently righted Stephanie’s head and searched her face for injuries, the lad at last clicked her free and into Morgan’s arms. He carefully laid her on the sloping floor, where she opened her glazed eyes and blearily looked up into his own.
No doubt at the terror she found there, she slowly let a reassuring smile flicker across her lips. Only when it firmed and spread to her eyes did Morgan finally breathe a sigh of relief. And only then did she reach up and draw his lips to her own as a soft female voice this time filled the room.
“This is your Extra-Vehicular Executive. I am pleased to announce that you are at last safely in The Promised Land, that you may now release your seatbelts and move about. But please, remain where you are until conditions outside are deemed safe for you to leave. In the meantime, I will shortly take the opportunity to introduce you to your new home and to the wealth of manuals available to help you settle in as quickly as possible.”
Stephanie again smiled when Morgan drew his lips from hers and helped her sit up. Then she smiled at their featherer.
“Well done, Seth. Well done, my lad,” she said. “Both levels completed, eh? And only a scratch to show for it…or at least I hope that’s all,” and she felt at the cut on her brow.
“Looks like one of your straps sheared off at its mount,” Seth said, having inspected her seat. “Let’s hope no one else’s suffered anything worse. But I have to say: I couldn’t have done it without Adam’s help. And Ken did good, too, didn’t he, Colonus? He did right good finding the perfect place to set us down,” and he too then smiled, in that joyous way only fourteen-year-olds can ever do.
The female voice once again eased itself into the room, warm and caring, like a mother’s.
“Before I take you through what is known of this land, and hence what seeds and supplies have been brought with us, may I suggest, as my title is a bit of a mouthful, that you just call me Eve. I also suggest, given ‘The Promised Land’ is itself something of a mouthful, that you name your new home ‘Earth’. I’m sure Adam and I will soon get you off to a good start, finding a suitable place to settle. But rest assured, we both trust this new world of yours will eventually become your own true home. A home world in which you can at last freely go forth and multiply.”
Morgan and Stephanie exchanged knowing looks for a moment, but then embraced, each holding the other close for a while. When their kiss came, they both now knew it marked the beginning of an unshakeable bond, one finally and firmly rooted in each other’s unquestioning trust.
When a world is made barren, its last generations gather their dwindling riches, and from these send forth many arks, hopeful of prospects far distant seen; hopeful that they may one day afford their dying race the promise of yet more Promised Lands…
About the Author
Clive Johnson was born in the mid-1950’s in Bradford, in what was then the West Riding of the English county of Yorkshire. Mid-way through the 1970s, he found
himself lured away by the bright lights of Manchester to attend Salford University.
In addition to getting a degree in electronics, he also had the good fortune of meeting Maureen (Kit) Medley—subsequently his partner and recent Editor. Manchester retained its lure and has thereafter been his hometown.
Torn between the arts—a natural and easy artist—and the sciences—struggled with maths, youthful rationality favoured science as a living, leaving art as a pastime pleasure. Consequently, after graduation, twenty years were spent implementing technologies for mainframe computer design and manufacture, and being a Group IT Manager for an international print company.
The catalyst of a corporate takeover led to a change of career, and the opportunity to return to the arts. The unearthing of a late seventies manuscript—during loft improvements—resurrected an interest in storytelling, and one thing led to another. A naïve and inexpert seed finally received benefit of mature loam and from it his first novel—Leiyatel’s Embrace—soon blossomed.
Find my website at http://www.flyingferrets.com
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Beyond Ever Blue Skies Page 18