Earth Fire (Earthrise Book 4)

by Daniel Arenson

Live the Human Dream!

  Live on Earth as it was!

  A fresh start for humanity!

  Mommy, can my doll come with us to Haven too?

  All veterans of Abaddon welcome!

  "Kids, we're closing for an hour," said the shop owner. "Got to clean before the morning rush."

  Addy frowned at the bald, pot-bellied man. "I thought this place was open twenty-four hours."

  "Yeah, well, I thought Angelo was coming to my apartment to clean the carpets, not bang my wife." He gestured at the door. "Life ain't fair."

  Marco and Addy stepped outside into the cold. They stood on the snowy street, hands stuffed under their armpits. They walked down the block toward Steve's building. Halfway there, Marco paused.

  "Ads, wait."

  She stopped beside him. "What, Poet? I'm freezing my ass off and I got to piss."

  "Let's go."

  "That's what I'm saying!"

  Marco shook his head. "Not to your boyfriend's place. To hell with that." He looked at the stars. "Up there."

  "What, onto the roof?"

  Marco groaned. "Addy."

  "To Haven?"

  Marco nodded. "We're veterans of Abaddon, right? We fought on the scum's planet. We survived where millions fell. That means we get free green cards to Haven. So let's go." He took her hands. "Let's go now."

  "Before I even pee?"

  Marco nodded. "Hold it in!" He pulled the coffee tin from his pocket, the one he had fished out from the snow outside the library. He opened it, revealing the wads of cash within. "My dad's life savings."

  Her eyes widened. "Fuck me! I never knew Carl squirreled away a fortune. How much is in there?"

  "Not much," Marco said. "A couple million bucks, mostly in bills of fifty thousand. Not a fortune since the great inflation and the wars. But enough for two tickets to Haven. One-way tickets only, and we'll probably have to fly with the pets in cargo, but we might just have enough." He put the tin back in his pocket. "Like the magazine said. Our home among the stars."

  Addy grew solemn. "I don't know, Marco . . . It's lovely up there. Almost too lovely. Can you imagine us living in a house like that? With a yard and everything, like a couple boring suburbanites?"

  "Beats this place." Marco looked around him. He saw frozen sidewalks. Rusty balconies. Raw concrete apartment blocks. A homeless man was shuffling down the street, while another lay sleeping on a vent. "Addy, Earth is no longer our home. You know that."

  She took a deep breath. "And Haven can be? We'd arrive there broke. You said the tickets would suck us dry. How will we survive there?"

  "We'll find work," Marco said. "I learned some computer skills in the army. Remember, I spent my last three years there working with computers, gaining experience. And I can write more novels, maybe even sell one. And you're a great fighter. I bet you can teach martial arts, or even start your own security company. With a steady paycheck, we can get a mortgage, maybe rent a place until we save up some cash. Come on, Ads! We survived Abaddon. We can survive fucking Haven."

  "Let me see that again." She snatched the magazine from him, and she stared long and hard at the watercolor painting of the children playing hockey on their driveway. When she looked back up at Marco, her eyes were damp. "Let's do this. Let's go. Just . . . I really do have to go back to Steve's place and pee first." She bit her lip. "I'll be careful not to wake him. I'll leave him a note." She grinned. "Maybe I'll even use the word harbor."

  The rocket rumbled.

  Fire filled the world.

  Their seats rattled, and they gripped the armrests, and Addy hooted with joy.

  They took off.

  The rocket soared through the atmosphere, and within moments, they were in space. Through the viewport, Addy and Marco could see Toronto grow smaller, then all of North America, then a blue sphere floating in the blackness, limned with a thin band of azure sky.

  Three hundred people filled the starship. Marco and Addy sat side by side, prepared for a week in space, then a lifetime on a new world. He wore old corduroy pants and a gray sweatshirt, both tattered and stained with mud and snow, and his sneakers were torn. Addy wore jean shorts, sandals, and a tank top, exposing the tattoos on her arms: a Maple Leaf for her favorite hockey team and a star for each scum she had killed.

  Everyone around them was well dressed. Clean. Well spoken. Immigrants with money and dreams. Marco and Addy were just two weary, poor, homeless veterans and orphans. War heroes. Refugees. The most celebrated and hated people in the human empire. They were the highest of the high and the lowest of the low. They were dreamers and they were haunted with shattered dreams. Addy kept prattling and joking, but when Earth faded to a pale dot of light, she grew silent, and they sat together, gazing at it. From here, Earth seemed no larger than a star.

  "How did you once say it?" Addy asked. "A dust ball?"

  "A mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam," Marco said. "That's what Carl Sagan called this view of Earth. A long time ago."

  "Must have been a smart dude." Addy yawned. "I'm going to sleep for a week. Wake me up when we reach Haven." She closed her eyes, then opened one and smiled at him. "I'm happy, Poet. I'm happy we're doing this. I'm happy you're with me."

  She closed both eyes, leaned her head on his shoulder, and slept. Marco closed his eyes and slept too. By the time he woke up, Earth was gone from view.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Marco had never sympathized so much with his hamburger.

  Alpha Centauri, their destination, was the closest star system to Earth. Their ship's azoth engines were capable of warp drive, bending spacetime around them, enabling faster-than-light travel. Even so, it was a week's flight. A week to another star system, perhaps, was once the realm of science fiction, a miraculously speedy journey. But for Marco, crammed into this small starship with hundreds of other passengers, confined to a seat no larger than his body, it seemed to last an eternity.

  "We're like cattle in here," he muttered. He shoved away his dry burger—not that there was much room to shove it before it hit the seat in front of him, but he gave that inch everything it was worth. "I've got no appetite. I feel for the poor cow."

  Addy sat beside him, knees pulled to her chin. She grabbed his burger and added it to her plate. "You should talk. Imagine surviving this journey with long legs like mine."

  "We're the same height," Marco said.

  "Well, then you need to be flexible like me." Addy took a bite of burger. "Mmm, tastes like Spam!"

  The kid behind Marco was still kicking his seat. Marco had tried all manner of glowers—both at the kid and his parents—but nothing seemed to help. He rose to his feet and stretched as much as room allowed. The rows of seats filled the fuselage. Through the portholes, he could see stars stretched into lines as the azoth engines bent spacetime. There wasn't an empty seat. Families with crying children. Veterans. Religious pilgrims clad in robes. Migrant workers. Retirees. Young dreamers. All manner of people had paid the price to leave Earth, to fly to Haven, to begin a new life or end a long one in the colony. The smell of sweat, cheap deodorant, and hundreds of dry burgers filled the hot, stale air. The cries of babies and the hum of engines filled the vessel. Several people kept coughing. Marco had hoped to walk up and down the aisle, but it was clogged with a dozen people waiting in line for the bathroom, a cart selling refreshments probably dating back to the Golden Age of Air Travel, and even somebody's therapy pig.

  "Therapy pigs," Marco muttered. "For God's sake, therapy pigs."

  The animal's owner overheard and glared at him. Her pet pig gave a glare too, followed by a haughty oink.

  I don't know if there's even a difference between us and the pig, Marco thought. We're just animals here, crammed into a cattle car.

  He had flown to the stars before. In the military, he had traveled deeper into space than this. But the military was rich, and their ships offered bunks, actual cots, mess halls, relaxation lounges. Their engines were larger and faster too. Those trips had been pleasan
t. Here, Marco was already wishing a renegade scum pod would attack and end their misery.

  "It'll be worth it when we reach Haven," Addy said. "Just one more day."

  "Every day here lasts a year, I'm sure of it," Marco said. "Something to do with relativity and time dilation. That's science."

  "That's just your whining," Addy said. "So sit your ass back down and let's look through the brochure again."

  She pulled him back into his seat. His hip banged against the sidebar, and his elbows pressed painfully against his sides. He didn't even need Addy's elbows to poke him here; his own elbows were doing the work. He reached between his legs and pulled out the real estate magazine, the one they had picked up at the ice cream parlor back home.

  Addy sighed. "It's beautiful."

  The magazine had dedicated thirty pages to Haven, and Marco and Addy had examined them through and through countless times over the past few days. The images were already seared into Marco's mind, but still they flipped the pages, slowly, savoring each one.

  There was an aerial view of the colony, showing tree-lined streets, charming houses with large yards and swimming pools, and natural paths coiling between forested hills toward lakes. There were watercolor paintings of serene brick homes, children playing in the driveways, Mother smiling in the garden, Father reading a newspaper on the porch. Ads appeared alongside the paintings, promising an easy start for colonists.

  Cheap mortgages for brave colonists, no background checks!

  Workers wanted! Free training course for all veterans!

  Affordable kitchens for your new colony home! Choose from marble, granite, and so much more!

  Live on the waterfront! Veterans come first!

  Forested trails right outside your home! Live among Haven's pristine beauty! Native whistling birds right outside your window!

  "Addy, you know, some of these houses are kind of expensive," Marco said. "And our asses are broke."

  She poked the page. "Look! See? Cheap mortgages!"

  "You need a job to get a cheap mortgage."

  She poked another page. "Workers wanted! Done." She gripped his hand. "Look, Poet, I don't expect to land and live in a palace right away. We'll start small. We'll rent a place until we find work. We've seen some nice rental listings. We'll work hard. We'll save money. We're smart and tough. Within a year, we'll be living in this house." She pointed at a painting of a two-story home by a forest. "Native whistling birds!"

  "Great," Marco said. "Whistling aliens who'll wake us up at five a.m."

  "It'll be my fist in your face waking you up for being so grumpy."

  Marco tried to keep his expectations low. He didn't want his optimism running wild like Addy's, leading to disappointment. But he had to admit, her enthusiasm was infectious, and their times perusing the magazine were his best hours since leaving the military.

  I just wish you could be here with us, Lailani, he thought, sudden pain stabbing him.

  Since she had gone to the Oort Cloud three years ago on a secret mission, Marco had survived in the military by dreaming of reuniting with her. A couple Christmases had not been enough. In his dreams, he married Lailani in Toronto, lived above the library with her, found joy, an end to war and pain. Every night, he had dreamed of holding Lailani in his arms, never letting her go.

  And now you left again, he thought. On another mission. With another lover.

  He lowered his head, his joy at the prospect of Haven fleeing. What would Haven be without the woman he loved?

  You don't want to get close to me, Lailani had told him five years ago. I'll just break your heart.

  Marco had known this. Known that Lailani was a wild flame, known that she preferred dating girls to boys, known that she could not be held down. He had not chosen to fall in love with her; his heart had chosen this path on its own. And now Marco felt like Lailani was taking a part of his heart with her, that it could never be healed again. Could he find new love in Haven? Or was he doomed to forever sleep on the proverbial couch, listening to Addy's lovemaking while he watched reruns of Robot Wrestling?

  I won't end up like Stooge, he vowed, shuddering. Whatever happens in Haven, let Stooge be a warning!

  He sighed. Right now, crammed into his starship seat, he actually missed that ratty old couch.

  He closed the magazine. "Just a few more hours left. Let's get some sleep."

  They lay across their seats in fetal positions, Marco crammed against the backrests, Addy pressed against the seats in front of them. Only his arms prevented her from falling. It was horridly uncomfortable but a welcome change from sitting upright. Addy snored but Marco only slept fitfully, his arm falling asleep under Addy.

  In his dreams, he wasn't in a crammed starship but in an actual cattle car. Thousands of people filled the car with him, naked, bald, frightened, clawing at the walls, desperate for water, for air. The cars rattled down tracks, and through the windows Marco could see alien eyes, claws, great spiders moving on webs, licking their jaws. Ahead loomed a slaughterhouse, pumping out smoke, a place to butcher humans, to prepare the meat, and claws sawed open skulls, and people screamed, wrapped in webs.

  "Arrival at the slaughterhouse!" boomed a voice, and deep laughter rumbled. Webs grabbed Marco, and he struggled against the aliens, struggled to escape the cattle car, but he was crammed in here, and they were rolling in, and—

  "Arrival at the slaughterhouse!"

  Claws shook him.

  "Poet, we're here."

  His eyes opened. He was back on the transport ship. The pilot's voice emerged from the speakers.

  "Arrival at Alpha Centauri B! Azoth engines shutting off in one minute."

  Marco groaned, the dream still clinging to him.

  "Poet!" Addy was shaking him. "Wake up, sleepy."

  "I'm up, I'm up." He tugged off her hands. "God, your fingers are like claws."

  She snarled, fingernails pointing at him. "Hiss! Claw!"

  He sat up and stretched as much as he could. The kid behind him was kicking his seat with new vigor. Marco peered out the window, and Addy leaned over him, staring out into space with him.

  The azoth engines hummed down. After a week of their purring, the starship seemed eerily silent. The bubble of warped spacetime enveloping the ship smoothed out. The lines of starlight blurred, then slammed into points.

  Marco grabbed his barf bag but thankfully managed to hold in his few bites of hamburger. Reality rearranged itself around him. His stomach seemed to float somewhere in the overhead compartment, then in his feet. His very soul seemed to hover a meter away before slamming back into his body. He covered his mouth, biting down hard, willing himself not to gag. Several passengers were less fortunate, losing their meals into paper bags.

  Addy rubbed her temples. "Damn. Almost as nasty as brain freeze." She tapped her chin. "Now I want ice cream. With bacon bits."

  "You always want ice cream," Marco said. "And bacon bits on ice cream is disgusting."

  "Lobster is disgusting," Addy said. "Sea-aliens. And I've seen you eat those."

  "Those were shrimp, Ads. I can't afford lobster."

  "It's the same animal, genius!" She tapped his head. "Just baby ones."

  Groaning, Marco turned back to the porthole. Outside he could see it now. Alpha Centauri B. The closest star to Sol, Earth's sun, only four light-years away. Now it shone nearby, filling the cabin with light. When Marco squinted, he could make out New Earth orbiting the star.

  "Do you see, Ads?" he said. "New Earth. Twin to our world."

  "It looks like a star from here," she said.

  "It's a terrestrial planet. Similar to ours. It has the same size, mass, gravity, and atmospheric pressure as Earth. The air's composition is so similar to ours that, if you stepped outside the dome, you could even breathe it—for a while, at least, until your lungs started burning. A virgin world. That's where Haven is." Marco couldn't keep the excitement from his voice. "This is it, Ads. No more snow. No more protests. No more fascists. No more po
llution or grime or Stooge's couch or any of that junk back on Earth. A new, pristine world. Our world."

  Her brow furrowed. "What was wrong with Stooge's couch?"

  "You'd like sleeping on it," Marco said. "I found a few bacon bits under the cushions."

  Addy smacked her lips. "Mmm, couch-bacon! If they don't have bacon on Haven, I'm stealing that therapy pig. Bacon is my therapy."

  "Get your elbow off my groin." He tried to shove her off, but she pressed down more forcefully, leaning across him to peer out the porthole.

  New Earth grew closer, clouds covering its surface, revealing scraps of sea and soil. Soon the planet covered their field of vision, and flames roared as the starship dived into the atmosphere.

  They emerged into a storm.

  Gray, indigo, and charcoal clouds swirled. Rain fell in sheets. The ship shuddered and rattled, and Marco tightened his seatbelt. He kept peering outside, and Addy leaned across him, and there below—there they saw it! Lights. Roads. Buildings. The colony of Haven nestled in the rain, gleaming wet, gray and deep blue and startling yellow.

  "I don't see the dome," Marco said. "In the magazine, there's a huge transparent dome around it."

  "Well, duh, they pull the dome back when it rains," Addy said. "To water all the plants."

  Marco wasn't so sure. He tried to get a better look at the colony, but it was hard to see much through the rain and clouds, and a thick haze lay over the city, obscuring most of it. It seemed to stretch for kilometers.

  "Five million people live here," he said. "The second biggest colony, the one on Mars, has only fifty thousand settlers. Can you imagine it, Addy? Five million people living in space. Colonizing the galaxy."

  "Six million once we land," Addy said. "I think there are about a million people crammed into this spaceship."

  "Just the kid behind me is half a mil," Marco said. "At least he's kicked me that often."

  The fog thickened. Marco could barely see a thing. The roads were only visible by the headlights of vehicles, moving forward like orderly fireflies through mist. The tops of several buildings and bridges appeared through the fog, soon vanishing. The miasma enveloped the starship, and then—with a thud so sudden Marco jumped—they landed.