by Jacob Whaler
Luca knows the direction but not the distance. She hasn’t found them yet, and time is running out.
The big Voice in the sky is closer now, always in the background, but always just beyond reach. As if vaguely aware of Luca but focused in another direction.
If she can get its attention, make direct contact, maybe it will help.
Luca stares up. The rain and wind have stopped. Closing her eyes and gathering her strength, she throws her mind into the sky, bright red at sunrise after the typhoon, to touch the Voice, full of expectation.
When she makes contact, she is sucked into a bubble at the center of a raging storm. For an instant, she floats in the presence of other voices, just on the other side of the thin film separating her from them, billions of them, beyond number, beyond comprehension. Extending her hand, she touches the side of the bubble, pressing her finger through. It explodes into sound and color. Movement spirals over and through her. As if the Voice has swallowed her, hungry and searching, squeezing and probing. Rampaging through her thoughts and memories.
What are you looking for? she asks.
No answer.
The Voice pulls her in deeper, its tendrils extending and hardening into a tight grip. She struggles to free her mind from its grasp. In a final effort, she pushes the Voice away.
It lets go.
The sound of her own screaming wakes her, and she finds herself wallowing in the mud, body feverish. Zero and Giraffe and the other girls stand in a ring staring down, eyes wide.
“Another voice?” Zero says.
Luca nods, unable to speak.
After a rest, they are on the move again.
What if they never find food and shelter?
At last, Luca has no choice. She opens her mind to her old friend, Rika.
We need your help. Just a little food and water. A place to rest. And then we’ll leave.
Rika doesn’t answer right away, even though Luca knows she’s listening. Silence fills the space between them.
And then the answer.
Come. I’m waiting.
Luca stands. “The town where I grew up. It’s not far. I have a friend there. She can help us.”
The group is too tired to ask questions.
Zero nods. “Let’s go.”
“That way,” Luca says. “Just a little farther.”
They follow her through heavy brush up a long hill, emerging scratched and bleeding from the thorns. The girls are tired and weak, especially the younger ones. They haven’t eaten for a day and they don’t have much energy left.
Luca urges them to keep going.
At the top, they stumble onto the cracked remains of a paved road and follow it through heavy fog in the direction of the sun until Luca sees what she’s looking for, an enormous dead cedar tree, its trunk stripped of bark and bleached white, branches outstretched like arms. It stands on the side of the road.
“Just like I remember it,” she says. “Not much farther.”
The road narrows and slopes down into the skeleton of a town. Abandoned houses with collapsed outer walls dot the fields, exposing the honeycomb structure of inner spaces. Bushes taller than a man sprout out of living rooms and kitchen floors. Wild dogs scatter into the gaps between buildings. Collapsed tile roofs angle down to the ground. Concrete poles lean at odd angles, cables still attached and drooping.
Entering the town, they pass under a dirty steel arch with words written in Japanese, Chinese and English: Nuclear Energy for a Bright Future.
Walking the length of the main street to the other end of the town, no one says a word, as if moving through a cemetery.
“You have a friend who still lives here? Where are the people?” Zero says. “Looks like the place has been abandoned for years."
“She’s here.” Luca swings her gaze from right to left.
Zero adjusts the pack on his back. “Are you sure she’ll be able to help us, give us food and water?”
Luca nods but doesn’t tell Zero she’s not sure. Not sure that Rika will share anything. Not sure it’s even safe for them to be in the town with Rika.
Movement draws her gaze across an open field to her right. She halts.
Images from her childhood flood in. The house where she lived as a baby. The garden on the side with the rich brown soil where they grew tomatoes, carrots, squash, spinach, onions. Playing tag with her father among the peach trees in the yard. Catching fireflies on summer nights. The old tin bucket of water her father kept for when they lit fireworks. Swinging her legs off the front porch on hot summer afternoons with a glass of mugicha in her hand. The salty taste of miso soup and her mother’s gyoza.
Her dad with his big white teeth and constant smile.
The porch and garden are gone. Only broken stumps mark the location of the peach orchard. The back of the house has slumped to the ground like a punctured tire. An outside wall is missing, as if cut away by an enormous knife. Luca can see the room upstairs where her mother sang her to sleep.
Small, white blossoms of dokudami flowers hug the foundation.
Rika is close.
“Stay here,” Luca says.
Leaving the others on the road, she walks through wet grass and weeds up to her fingertips until her hands find the rusty metal pillar framing half the front door.
It hangs open. Luca steps through into the genkan, full of mud, and stares inside at the chaos of abandoned shoes, broken bottles, old newspapers, ripped curtains and tin cans.
“I’m back,” she says.
There’s no reply, but Luca can feel the presence. Her presence.
“It took longer than I thought.” Luca leans against the shelf where they used to stack their shoes before entering the house. Her mother’s doll is still there on top, perfectly preserved in its glass case, bright green kimono, delicate porcelain fingers, lips still plump and red under a coat of dust.
You should have come alone. Why did you bring them?
“We need your help.” Luca speaks aloud. “We’re hungry. We walked all night and haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.”
Did you hear the Voice in the sky? You must have. You always were the best listener.
Luca’s knees tremble. She sits on the genkan step that goes up onto the main floor of the house. “We don't want any trouble. Just a little food and water.”
It’s coming closer. It will be here soon. I haven’t dared reach out to it. But I’ve felt the power. So have you. It’s looking. Searching.
“Please come out.” Luca searches in the darkness for any movement.
I didn’t burn this house. It always was my favorite place. Your house. Your parents. They loved you, even though you were different. What’s it like to be loved, Luca? I've always wondered.
“We won’t stay long.”
Fingers come into view, sliding around a corner until Luca sees a full hand and then a full arm. A young woman, three years older than Luca, thin and pale, steps out of the shadows, a smile on her face. She walks forward, staring, never taking her gaze off Luca.
Rika.
“You’ve grown,” Rika says.
Luca steps back. “You look—” It’s impossible to lie to someone who can listen to your mind.
“Worse?” Rika nods her head. “It’s hard to be alone for so long. You should never have left me.”
“It’s good to see you again.”
“Really?” Rika stoops to pick up an old porcelain figurine on the floor. “Then why are you scared?”
“I don’t want any trouble. We need your help. The girls are tired and hungry.” Luca motions over her shoulder to the group standing out on the street. "We walked all the way from the Institution.”
“The funny thing is, you and I were never really apart.” Rika drops the figurine and watches it shatter, then she moves across the floor, stepping over scattered garbage. “I've been listening to you for years. Ever since you left me.”
“My mother took me. I had no choice.”
Rika walk
s out the front door. “You wanted to go. You could have stayed with me. I asked you to stay. Begged you. My parents would have taken me to the Institution. But they died. Your parents could have died, too. But you wouldn’t—” She gazes out at the street. “Let’s go meet your friends.”
Luca follows her out the door across the high grass and onto the street.
Zero and Giraffe are standing.
Are these the two men from the Institution that used to beat you?
Luca raises a hand, palm up. “Everyone. This is my friend, Rika.”
“Hello.” Rika bows. “You’ve all walked so far. You must be tired and hungry. I’ll gladly share what I have and give you what you deserve. Follow me.” She looks at Luca and smiles.
They walk down the road for fifty meters and veer off on a dirt path that winds past the ruins of a long row of houses. Most of them have been burnt to the concrete foundations. Only a few are left standing.
“I live over there.” Rika speaks to Zero and points at a single house in a field, painted bright pink. “I stayed after the others left. It's been years since anyone has come to visit.”
“How did you survive on your own?” Zero asks.
“I managed.” Rika motions back to the town. “The people were farmers, so the houses are full of food and seeds. The soil is good. Vegetables are easy to grow."
“What about radiation?” Zero pulls out his Geiger counter and waves it around. It’s mostly silent.
“I can’t do anything about it, so I don’t worry.” Rika motions back in the direction of the main road. “I scavenge canned food and rice from the houses. I collect water from the rains. I have everything I need. I’m happy to share what I have with you.”
These scum don’t deserve to live, Rika thinks.
They’ve changed, Luca thinks. They don’t want to hurt us anymore.
As they approach the house, Luca notices the neat rows of leafy vegetables and the plastic barrels at each corner of the structure with tubes coming down from the roof.
When they get to the house, Rika steps up on the front porch and faces the group. “You can pitch your tents in the yard. The typhoon has blown past, so I doubt it will rain tonight. If it does, feel free to come inside.”
Giraffe eyes the water barrels, licking his lips. “Is it OK if we get a drink?”
“Please do.” Rika points down. “There’s a siphon on the side. I'll work on dinner. Nothing fancy. Just rice and vegetables. With curry.”
“You have curry?” Giraffe’s head swivels on his long neck. His mouth drops open. “It’s been ages since I’ve tasted curry.”
The other girls nod in disbelief.
Rika turns to open the door. “Luca, can you come help me? We have a lot of catching up to do.”
37
BACK
Jedd sits on a plastic box inside the tent, his head pounding and stomach still queasy. At least he’s been freed.
The flap on the tent is flung back. Light explodes through the entrance.
Two large men in army fatigues throw Ricky into the middle of the floor. He lands on his face and rolls to a stop, hands on his belly and red goo dripping from his lips.
“You OK?” Jedd kneels and lifts Ricky’s head.
Looking up, Ricky manages a smile just before turning and retching more red death onto the dirt floor. “Never been so glad to see you. Moses wasn’t in a good mood. Soldiers were coming to shoot me. Had me tied up to a post, just like when we were kids. Guns trained on my chest. Remember? Thought for sure it was the end.”
Jedd wipes Ricky’s mouth with his shirtsleeve. “You know I’d never let that happen to you.”
“You made a deal with the bastard, didn’t you? Otherwise, he wouldn’t have stopped the execution. You know Moses. He doesn't like traitors.” Ricky turns to retch again, but nothing comes out. Convulsions rack his body, and then he settles down. “So what was it? Something big? Something impossible?"
“As a matter of fact, Moses and I—”
The flap of the tent gets yanked back again. Four soldiers carry Qaara into the tent, one holding onto each of her limbs. She’s blindfolded and squirming like a severed snake. They drop her on the floor and leave.
She lies still for a moment and then sits up, as if smelling the air.
“Jedd?”
He stoops and undoes her blindfold, unable to suppress the big, goofy smile on his face. “So good to see you. Are you—”
In less than a second, her fist connects with his jaw and lays him out flat on the floor. Then she jumps on top of him, grabs his shirt and pulls him up within inches of her lips.
He wraps his arms around her head and closes off the distance, kissing her.
For an instant, she doesn’t resist.
And then she thrusts him down, kneeling on his chest and arms.
Jedd looks up into a picture of beautiful rage.
Her fingers find his throat and begin to squeeze. “You think this is funny, do you? One big joke.”
Moving his mouth and trying to talk, Jedd chokes. Qaara won’t let go. He manages to get out two words, using up the last of the air in his lungs.
“Saved you.”
With no oxygen, Jedd’s consciousness slips away.
And then Qaara yanks him up. “Tell me the truth. The old guy named Moses said you came back to join the Family. He said you brought me here as a peace offering for him. He tried to—”
Jedd takes in a deep breath. “He’s a liar. You know I’d never do that. It was your idea to come to the Zone, remember? You're the one who wants to make it to Colorado. I was pushing for Florida.” He clenches his jaw. “Did anyone hurt you?”
“From the looks of it, I’ll bet it was the other way around.” Ricky smiles weakly.
“They must not think a woman’s capable of fighting.” Qaara presses a fist to her palm. “I showed them a thing or two.”
“Unless they’ve changed, the women in Moses’ tribe do what they’re told. My guess is they’ve never seen anyone like you.”
“I’ve seen men like that before. In India. My own father. When I ran away from Genesis, I left that part of me behind.” Qaara shakes her head. "What happened? Why did they decide to put us together?”
Ricky points at Jedd. “Looks like the big boy here made a deal with Moses. Never even bothered to ask us.”
“What kind of deal?” Qaara says.
*******
“Are you crazy?” Qaara glares down at Jedd and then swings her eyes past Ricky.
“Look.” Jedd holds up a hand to quiet Qaara’s fury. “I know Moses. If he doesn’t think he can use us, he’ll kill us.”
“Let me see if I have this straight.” Qaara turns her back on Jedd and paces back and forth in the tent. “You volunteered us to go back to the City and help that madman unleash smallpox on the population? I can’t believe you would agree to that. Do you have any idea what smallpox does to a person?”
“I’m just trying to buy some time to save you so you can save the world. I’m not going to let Moses use the virus.”
“We don’t have time for this. We should just destroy the virus and get on our gyropods and head west. To the Free City of Denver. There isn’t much time left."
“Actually, I never said I would take Moses all the way back to the City. I only agreed to come up with a plan to get back to the City. I have no intention of actually going there.” Jedd rubs the rope burns on his wrists. “Look, we don’t have any choice. We have to play along with Moses. The guy has a long memory. And he’s not forgiving. He's ready to kill Ricky and me right now. I can only guess what he was planning for you. There’s no other way to buy time.”
“Which we are quickly running out of.” Qaara flings open the tent flap. Her eyes widen. “Did you see this?”
Jedd walks to her side. “Incredible.” He looks out on a field with rows of green and gray tents. Shiny new army trucks and jeeps neatly line up in rows and hide under layers of camouflage netting. Helicopters
with their thin rotors and glass bulb cockpits sit like waiting locusts. Men and women walk around in military fatigues and helmets with machine guns hanging from their shoulders. Guns that actually shoot lead bullets.
Just like in the old movies.
“He certainly does have an army.” Qaara shakes her head. “But if they get within ten klicks of the City, the sky will fill with attack ships, pulse cannons, mag-lasers and drone-swarms. They won’t last five minutes.”
“I don’t know.” Jedd turns and walks back into the tent. “Moses is a smart guy. I’ve seen him in a fight before. He knows how to make the most of his resources. All we have to do is get him close. Give him a shot.”
Qaara shakes her head. “Impossible. Moses has no electronics. What can he possibly do to the City?”
“I think I saw some radios,” Ricky says.
“OK, so they have rudimentary communications.” Qaara walks to the middle of the tent and sits on a box. “But they completely lack the data-crunching algorithms and AI capabilities that are commonplace in modern civilization. It’s analog versus digital. Analog versus quantum. Quantum wins every time. It’ll be a total one-sided slaughter.”
“Moses isn’t going to like it if that’s all we have to tell him.” Jedd takes in a deep breath. “If he thinks we can’t help him, then he’ll just kill Ricky and me. And make you his slave. And I'm not going to let that happen. I’ll lie if I have to.”
“So we have to come up with a workable plan or at least one that sounds workable. Otherwise, we’re toast.” Ricky sits up. The color is returning to his face. "Looks like we’ll have to put off that trip to Denver.”
“There’s just one big problem.” Qaara faces Jedd, hands on hips. “Have you forgotten about the Cloud? Earth will be swallowed in two days. The killer molecules will rain down from the skies. Things will go downhill fast after that. We don’t have much time to do anything.”
Ricky raises his hand. “What? Are you crazy? The world’s gonna end and no one thought that was important enough to tell me?”