The Fires of Yesterday (The Silent Earth, Book 3)

by Mark R. Healy

  In the distance I could already see the dark shape of the skyscrapers of home coming into view.

  27

  We reached the city but our pace did not relent. I’d lost sight of the Cloudpuncher – if that is what it was – for it had disappeared into the clouds not long after we began to run. I couldn’t help but recognise the similarities between it and the drone that had descended on Cider Street weeks before. I imagined it now homing in on the plantations with malicious intent, effortlessly gliding through the air as the two of us struggled behind on foot. I thought of Arsha and the children as they waited in the house at Somerset Drive, and how there was no way for them to know it was coming.

  I led Malyn along the freeway and toward the plantations. Now she did begin to lag behind, her fortitude finally giving out, but I pushed onward with the fear of what I would find at Somerset driving me to new heights of endurance. I wasn’t sure if synthetic muscles had been built with design limitations, or if the tiredness was simply a programming feature designed to mimic human tissue, but at this moment I told myself it was the latter. I told myself that I could run at full speed forever if I had to, pushing myself beyond the limits of pain and ignoring the voice in my head that screamed at me to relent. For once I was happy to think of myself as a machine, if only it would allow me to keep running and reach home sooner.

  As I neared the bend in the road that led to Somerset Drive, I listened for sounds of struggle. For gunfire, for screams, for the bark of soldiers. There was nothing. The silence was complete but for the soft stirring of wind in the dying grass along the roadside.

  I looked over my shoulder. Malyn was back there, maybe a hundred metres behind, flagging like a marathon runner trying to keep pace. She waved raggedly at me as if to say “keep going”, and I did just that.

  I strode into Somerset Drive, and seeing the curve of the road, I was flooded with bittersweet emotion. I thought of all the wonderful memories I’d cultivated here, of Atlas and Ellinan and Mish and the few precious years we’d been left to exist in peace. I thought of Atlas’ first steps on the grass over by the coop as he attempted to chase a chicken, of Ellinan and Mish moulding clay sculptures one sunny morning on the driveway.

  Those memories flitted through my head in an instant. Then I thought of what I might find when I opened the front door of the house and looked inside. I still didn’t know if the Cloudpuncher or if Cabre himself had already been here and destroyed all that I held dear.

  My footsteps thumped on the asphalt as I cantered down the slope. I made no attempt to hide my approach. I just needed to get inside.

  The door to the house banged open noisily as I neared. I cried out involuntarily, expecting an Ascension soldier to step out and point a rifle at me.

  I staggered and fell, rolling and scraping along the asphalt and coming to a halt just outside the driveway.

  “Daddy!” Atlas screamed joyously, surging down the driveway at full pelt, his good arm open wide as the arm in the sling flapped madly at his side.

  “Atlas,” I sobbed, gathering him up as gently as I could as he threw himself at me. He almost bowled me over as he pressed himself against me and laughed. “Hey, buddy, don’t break that arm again.”

  “Daddy!” Atlas said again, pushing against me so hard that I rolled back onto the asphalt with him on top of me. “Where did you go?”

  I clutched at him with weary arms, holding his head in my hands. His eyes were large and luminous behind a curl of hair, which I brushed away as his smile deepened.

  “Well, I went for a very long walk,” I said simply.

  “To the moon?” Atlas said, stretching up on tippy-toes and lifting his hand high.

  “Yeah. Close enough.”

  “Next time, I’m coming too.”

  Malyn arrived then, crashing down beside us on her knees, exhausted. She hunched over on all fours, trembling, and Atlas looked curiously between the two of us as if to ascertain whether we’d arrived together.

  “You brought a girl!” he said suddenly.

  Malyn looked up curiously at him and then smiled. “And what’s your name?” she said with an effort.

  “I’m Atlas.”

  “Good to meet you, man. I’m Malyn,” she said, extending her hand, which Atlas took and pumped with such vigour that he made her head bounce with each shake. She smiled warmly at him and then glanced down to where a long red scratch marked Atlas’ forearm, crusty with scabs and dried blood.

  “What…” Malyn began, uncomprehending.

  “I tried to climb up on the roof,” Atlas explained, as if proud of his wound. “I wanted to get up high so I could see where Daddy went. But then I fell off, and Arsha roused on me,” he added glumly.

  “Well, you deserved that,” I admonished. “You shouldn’t be climbing up on roofs, especially with only one good arm.”

  Malyn looked up at Atlas’ face, and I could see understanding spread across her own visage – understanding that this was not a synthetic child before her, but a human. She blinked stupidly as if she might be dreaming.

  “Cleanskin,” she said, breathless, tearing her eyes away from Atlas to look at me. “What the hell have you been doing here?”

  Arsha and the other children appeared at the doorway, and they too uttered cries of delight and poured down the driveway to greet me. The children piled on top of me and gave me a group hug, knocking me back to the ground as I tried to get up. They shouted excitedly, full of questions about where I’d been and what I’d done.

  As I extracted myself from them and stood, Arsha surprised me by clasping my head and kissing me gently on the forehead.

  “So good you’re back,” she said, her eyes full of relief. “We missed you.”

  “It all makes sense now,” Malyn said getting to her feet, Atlas’ hand still in hers. She stared in wonderment at the children and the vegetation around us. “I understand why you need the sun back.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just–”

  “No, it’s okay,” she said, glancing down at the tiny fingers draped over hers. “I understand.”

  Arsha was staring distrustfully at Malyn, and I reached out and placed my hand on my old colleague’s shoulder to reassure her.

  “Arsha, this is Malyn,” I said. “She’s been helping me out there. In fact, I wouldn’t have made it back without her.”

  Arsha gave her a nod of greeting, still not sure what to make of the newcomer.

  “Hi,” Malyn said with a little smile that was almost a grimace. It was clear that she sensed and understood Arsha’s distrust.

  “Let’s go inside,” I suggested, casting my eyes to the sky to search for the Cloudpuncher as I ushered the children forward. There was no sign of it anywhere. Perhaps it was still up there, watching us from afar, or it had proceeded on past the city in search of another target. I fervently hoped it was the latter, that it had only been a coincidence that we’d seen it heading this way.

  I couldn’t convince myself of that entirely, though.

  The children made walking difficult, clinging to my legs and trying to tuck themselves under my arms as I walked up the path. I suddenly felt ashamed about all of the misgivings I’d had when I’d imagined my return home. There was no persecution or disappointment in their eyes, only joy and acceptance. I did not feel like a failure returning to them. I only felt loved. The notion of them turning their back on me now seemed utterly foolish.

  “So what did you find?” Arsha said, dropping in beside me.

  I hurried the last child, Chidi, through the door and then closed it behind me, holding up a finger to Arsha to indicate that I needed a moment.

  “Mish,” I said, taking the blonde girl by the hand and drawing her close for an embrace. I clasped her head and pulled it into the crook of my neck. “How are you holding up?”

  “Good enough,” she said, but there was still sadness in her voice. “There’s not much time to relax with those little ones around.”

  “I c
an imagine,” I said. I drew her back. “Listen, I need a favour. Can you take the children to their room, please? I just need to talk to Arsha for a bit.”

  “Aww, already?” Atlas whined, thumping me on the thigh with a little fist. “You just got back.”

  “There’ll be plenty of time to catch up later, Atlas,” I said. “The grown-ups need to talk for a minute, okay?”

  The children grudgingly allowed themselves to be guided back toward their room, casting curious eyes over their shoulders to see if they could figure out what was going on as Mish attempted to herd them away.

  “What is it?” Arsha said, twigging to my urgency.

  “We need to leave here. As soon as possible.”

  “What is it? The Marauders?”

  I shook my head. “No, the Marauders are finished. They’re pretty much wiped out.”

  She glanced between Malyn and me, uncomprehending. “What? I don’t…”

  “There was a battle,” Malyn said. “The Marauders tried to invade Ascension City but failed. I doubt there are any left out there at all now.”

  Arsha’s astonishment turned to joy. “So we’re heading to Ascension City? They can help us?”

  “No,” I said sharply, and the short-lived sparkle in her eyes melted away. “We were wrong about Ascension. They’re only in it for themselves. They’ll use us and destroy us if it will gain them something.”

  “What would they gain from us?” she said.

  I sighed. “They know about the children. They know about the Grid repository at M-Corp.”

  “What?” Arsha practically shouted. “How could you–”

  “They already knew, Arsha,” I said, motioning for her to lower her voice. “Remember that creature I killed in the city? The thing that had been watching us for years? That was an Ascension spy. They create those things from clanks as a kind of punishment.”

  “It was Ascension watching us all that time?”

  “So it seems. They’d already gained knowledge of the children. I told them about M-Corp because I was trying to gain some leverage to put out the fires that are causing these black clouds. Trade the information for their help. But that was before I realised they were rotten to the core.”

  Arsha pressed a palm to her cheek, slowly coming to grips with the situation. “So what does that mean?”

  “Cabre wants nothing more than to restart the Grid. He believes that rediscovering the technology of old is the key to Ascension’s future. He’s coming for us.”

  “An army is headed this way?” she said, incredulous.

  “Yes,” I said. “That’s why we need to pack our things and go.”

  “What things, Brant?” Arsha said, starting to sound panicked. “What are you talking about?”

  “We pack as much food as we can carry and we go. We need to leave here. They know about the location of the plantations.”

  Arsha sobbed, exasperated. “Brant, we’re back in the same predicament we were in before you left. We don’t have anywhere to go.”

  “Then we have to find somewhere. At least for a while.”

  Arsha looked to Malyn, as if for confirmation. “He’s right, man,” Malyn said. “Cabre’s not someone you want to mess with. We better be gone by the time he gets here.”

  “You’re coming?” I said to Malyn, surprised. “I wasn’t sure if–”

  “If I’d turn tail and run?” she said, glaring at me defiantly.

  “No. I’m saying that maybe you should get away while you still can. This isn’t your fight.”

  Malyn shrugged. “I’ve come this far, Cleanskin. I can help you carry things. If you want my help, you’ve got it.”

  “All right,” I said, not wanting to argue. “Let’s do this, then.”

  “Wait,” Arsha said, grabbing my elbow as I began to move away. “What about those fires? Did you find out what’s going on? Is there any hope for the children in the long run?”

  I exchanged a doubtful glance with Malyn. “They’re oil fires,” I explained. “The Marauders set the wells alight to try to undermine Ascension’s resources. There’s hundreds of fires, and Cabre has no intention of putting them out. It’s… hopeless.”

  Arsha’s hand dropped from my arm and she stared at me, desolate. “Then what’s the point, Brant?”

  “We keep going,” I said. “We keep on the run and head south. That smoke has to disperse eventually, right? If we make it far enough away from the fires, we’ll find sunlight again. If we carry enough grain and seeds, we might be able to start again somewhere else.”

  She seemed to wilt and her eyes dropped. I allowed her a few moments to come to grips with what I was saying, and sure enough she gathered her courage in typical Arsha fashion. She nodded her head firmly.

  “Okay,” she said bravely. “All right. We can do that.” She began to bustle about, suddenly looking very much like the Arsha of old again. “We’ll need water,” she said. “There are containers and flasks in the garage. Head down to the stream and fill up as much as you can.”

  “I can help with that,” Malyn offered, rubbing ruefully at the aching muscles in her thighs, “as long as my legs don’t fall apart before we get there.”

  “The garage is through there,” Arsha said, pointing to the door. Malyn nodded and began to walk away, and Arsha placed a hand on my chest as I attempted to follow. “Can we trust her?” she said quietly.

  I watched Malyn disappearing through the doorway. “I’d trust her with my life.”

  Arsha searched my face for a moment, then nodded. “Good enough for me. Let’s do this.”

  28

  Malyn stooped by the stream that wound through the gully at the bottom of the hill and filled the last of the containers, screwing on the lid and hefting it wearily onto her back.

  “And I thought I was tired before,” she groaned. “I’m gonna lie on my back for a month when this is over.”

  I lifted my own containers, struggling under their weight. “I was thinking closer to six weeks for myself.”

  We climbed up the embankment, slipping through the loose soil before reaching the grassy edge of Somerset Drive.

  “How far are we going to have to carry these things?” she said.

  “As far as it takes.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “Nor do I, but what choice do we have?”

  She nodded and eyed off the incline before us in dismay.

  “Hey,” she said, trying to work some cheer into her voice as we started up the slope, “did you ever think of what might have happened if you and me had met before?”

  “Before? Before what?”

  “Before the world tore itself apart.”

  I thought about that. “We probably would have tried to kill each other then, too.”

  She laughed. “Hey, I never tried to kill you.”

  “I’m not entirely convinced of that,” I said with a grin.

  “If I had, you’d be spare parts by now, man.”

  I tried to continue the banter, but my heart wasn’t in it. There was too much on my mind. I couldn’t help but feel that I was marching these children toward death by heading out into the wasteland, that this was the last throw of the dice in a game that had already been lost. How would a few of us on foot ever outrun Cabre and his men? It seemed futile.

  Still, we had to try.

  Malyn sensed my mood and she too fell quiet as we continued onward.

  At the house we unloaded the containers by the garden in the back yard. It was looking even more wilted and pathetic than the last time I had been here. I wondered how long it had left before it reached the point of no return. Weeks? A month? Maybe a little longer. If we somehow avoided Cabre and then returned here later, there would likely be nothing to come back to. We’d have to start all over again.

  “How did you do it?” Malyn said sombrely as she watched me. “How did you keep the humans alive?”

  “We didn’t keep them alive. We kept the embryos in cryos
torage and grew them in artificial wombs a few years ago.”

  “I can see why this meant so much to you now,” she said. “It’s… incredible.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

  Malyn brooded, fidgeting with a strand of grass in her fingers. She seemed lost for words, an unusual state for her to be in. I was about to say something when she looked up at me.

  “You love her, don’t you?” she said quietly.

  “Huh?”

  “Arsha. The other cleanskin. You love her, right?” She gave an unhappy little laugh and flicked a lock of hair away from her face in annoyance. “Let me guess, you two were built for each other, like some new goddamn version of Adam and Eve.”

  “Malyn–”

  “Forget it,” she said, waving at me dismissively as she headed toward the back door of the house. “We don’t have time for this, anyway.”

  I reached out and grabbed her arm, turning her toward me.

  “I don’t,” I said, pulling her against me. Her eyes were dark and round as she stared up at me. “I don’t love her.”

  “But when she saw you–”

  “She was happy I came back, that’s it,” I said. “We worked together. We were part of the same mission and we’ve been through some tough times together, but that’s as far as it goes.” I put a hand to her cheek. “My heart is…” As I looked upon her face, I struggled to find the right words. I’d never had feelings for a synthetic quite like what I felt for Malyn, and I wasn’t sure how to express myself.

  “Listen,” she said, taking my hand in hers. “You have a good think about what you want to say to me. If we make it through this shit, you can tell me then. Okay?”

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  She pulled me toward the house, smiling sadly. “Come on.”

  Inside, the children romped about their room making animal noises as Mish tried to keep them under control. In the living room, Atlas had climbed onto a chair out by the front window, and he sat there staring outward. When he saw me he waved and smiled.