The Heights of Perdition

by C. S. Johnson

  “You defied an order,” Brock interrupted.

  “Come on, Brock. It’s a matter of taking initiative. Besides, they seemed to like what I—”

  “Aerie, I thought you wanted to get into military school,” Brock interrupted.

  “I do,” Aerie insisted.

  “You can’t defy an order and expect to get into the URS Military Academy. It’s just not possible.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be my friend, Brock.”

  “I am,” he agreed hastily. “We are comrades for life.”

  “Then why are you being so difficult today?” Aerie countered. This discussion is rapidly turning sour.

  “I’m the one being difficult?” Brock looked astounded. “You’re the one who has defied an order set by the council. Do you think they’ll let you slide into the academy I’ve worked my whole life to get into simply because you’re the General’s charge?”

  “No,” she snapped.

  “And now you’re denying you’ll use the only possible privilege you have in getting what you want?”

  “I don’t believe in the whole ‘privilege’ concept when it comes to my unit,” Aerie told him matter-of-factly. “I told you, I’ve barely seen the General since he was promoted to the URS’s National Guard ten years ago after the last dictator retired—”

  “The military academy has standards for a reason,” Brock insisted, ignoring her arguments.

  “Well, I have standards, too,” Aerie declared. “And I am not going to stand for this conversation anymore.” With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, not even bothering to salute him before she left.

  It was for the best. If she’d bowed to him, she would have been too tempted to spit on his perfectly shined shoes.

  The nerve of him. Aerie clenched her fists. Why did he have to ruin her good mood?

  She’d known Brock for many years, and they were friends, as he said. He helped her with her training, while she invited him over for dinner. She had even let him borrow the General’s written accounts of his early-career battles against the Middle Eastern Nuclear Arms Coalition and Enterprise, also known as MENACE. The history of the nuclear attacks on the United Nations of America and her allies in the books were perfect for his studies, and Brock must have known books were still extremely rare, given the decimation of trees and plants since the Old Republic war began.

  At that thought, she turned around and headed in the other direction, suddenly inspired.

  Aerie checked the time on her wristwatch; it wouldn’t do to be late for her final PAR.

  Her stress gradually lessened as she climbed up through the back stairways and ducked inside the old air duct.

  Finding her way up to the surface followed naturally after all her previous visits.

  Aerie might have said, though in jest because she knew it was forbidden, that something supernatural seemed to call her attention to the secret way above ground.

  She breathed in the air, unpurified and untreated, and smiled brightly before pushing the top of the duct portal free of its locked position.

  And then she stepped out into what was left of New Hope’s above-ground world.

  The years of toxic rain, sharpened by nuclear attacks, ate at the metal and cement, leaving the city pockmarked with rust and rot. Rather than abandon it, the citizens of the Union of North America followed the rats underground, forsaking sunlight rather than their home. Aerie had heard the legend of New Yorkers, and she wondered at it, because as passionate as they were about their home, she felt somewhat trapped by their pride. Once the URS was born from UNA’s remains, they continued the practice, enforcing it as part of the rule of law.

  Which made sense in many cases. After all, their civilization could only survive if they were safe.

  She made her way down the empty blocks, where occasionally a few homeless people were snuggled into corners, some crippled, some rejected by the government below.

  None of them ever seemed to make a move to talk to her, for which she was partially grateful and partially saddened.

  Aerie scanned her surroundings but did not see any other people around. She felt her excitement renew itself as she finally saw what she’d come for—the Memory Tree.

  Nearly eighty feet tall, the grand oak tree had been a signature site in the city before war and ecological disaster had drastically transformed the outside world. While the rest of the manmade world around her looked decrepit, rusting over and wasting away, the tree seemed unaware that it was supposed to be dying as well.

  Her steps increased in speed as she set her eyes on her intended destination. The tree was a survivor, and Aerie could more than identify with the loneliness accompanying the privilege of living in a broken world.

  A small mew! sang out, calling to her.

  “Moona!” Aerie reached down and picked up the small kitten at her heels. She petted the soft, black-and-white ball of fur before burying her face in it. The dirt clinging to its hair bristled her cheeks, but Aerie didn’t mind. She was just glad to see Moona had survived, even if the cat’s white coat was no match for city life. “I’ve missed you.”

  It had been awhile since she’d come back to see Moona and the Memory Tree. At least two weeks.

  “I’ve been busy with schoolwork,” she told the kitten as she hoisted her up on her shoulder. “I have my PAR later today, but then I’ll be finished with school.”

  “Mew,” the cat replied.

  “I should be able to come up here more frequently after I get accepted into the Academy,” Aerie said. “As long as my father—sorry, the General—doesn’t pay much attention to me.” She paused. “Which he shouldn’t, considering Dictator Osgood told us that Captain Chainsword’s ghost is on his way to New Hope. That should keep him busy for a while.”

  The kitten purred in agreement next to her, and Aerie laughed, the sound hollow and strange against the silence of the rotting city remnants. The wind tickled against the Memory Tree, the only remaining tree in all of New Hope, and Aerie decided that was the tree’s way of giving her a friendly response. She was near enough she could see the small breeze fluttering through its branches, making some of the burnt-brown leaves crinkle a small hello.

  She finally reached the tree. “Hello, my friend,” she whispered. Her hands reached down and pressed into the soil, studying its texture and the different sediments she found around the tree’s roots.

  “It’s still doing well,” she observed in wonder. “Even though the URS has been reporting higher concentrations of toxins lately.” Aerie suddenly wished she’d brought her gardening tools and sampling kit. As much as she knew it was frivolous, Aerie had always loved working with her mother’s small garden and learning different ways to care for plants.

  Before she ended up dwelling on her final project, and Brock’s unpleasant comments, Aerie shifted Moona to her arm and carried her like a small baby as she approached the tree.

  Moona hissed in futile protest.

  “Sorry,” Aerie told her, “but if you’re going to climb the tree with me, you’re going to have to trust me.”

  The kitten gave only a hardened silence for a reply as Aerie climbed up the spotted branches of the tree swiftly. It had been several months since she found this place; she knew instinctively which branches would hold her weight and which ones would be strengthened if only the sun would shine through the clouds.

  She found her favorite branch about forty feet up from the ground and settled against the trunk. The leaves on the underside of the tree twinkled green at her, while the topside ones were a dark, rusty-looking brown.

  “From here, Moona, you can almost see past the city’s horizon,” Aerie said. “I think Mom would’ve liked this place.”

  Moona yawned and curled up once more, kneading her paws into Aerie’s leg.

  “I miss her,” Aerie admitted aloud. “Mom would have loved coming up here. I still take care of her small garden, you know.”

  Aerie giggled as the kitten stretc
hed. “I know I’m not supposed to call her that, you know. But somehow ‘Madame’ or ‘Unit Director’ didn’t seem right.” She frowned. “She told me in secret, when I was old enough, I could call her ‘Mom,’ but then nothing else really fit. The General would punish me if he heard me call her that in front of anyone else. To say nothing of what he would do if he found me here.”

  Having grown up in the heart of the State, Aerie knew her allegiance to the State came first. But somehow, her loyalty to her mother insisted on taking those risks, and as time went on, it was more natural to do so.

  A pungent smell wafted into Aerie’s nose. Her eyes, already damp with unshed tears, flickered shut. “Something stinks,” she muttered. She moved a reluctant Moona away and stood up, glancing around. Was it rain? Aerie glanced up at the sky.

  “Captain Chainsword’s ghost is supposed to be joining us here in New Hope,” Aerie told Moona. “I wonder if this means the URS is going to launch an attack of its own?”

  Probably.

  It’s what I would do, she thought. Tell all the people to stay underground, and then blame all the blasts and booms on the enemy.

  Not that the URS would lie to their people, unless it was for their own good, she thought with a pinch of guilt.

  Aerie gave the tree a loving pat as she scooped up Moona and tucked her into one of her coat pockets. “Sorry, Moona,” she apologized. “But we’d better go. Between the rain and warfare, you’ll be safer with me. We’ll come back when it’s clear.”

  The small kitten squirmed in initial protest, but once she realized the inside of Aerie’s uniform jacket was dark and cozy, she settled down and went to sleep.

  Aerie grinned, knowing it would be her last smile for some time. The URS required seriousness in all matters, it seemed. There was little time for fun and laughter.

  When survival is the endgame, she thought, there is nothing funny.

  She took one last look around, grateful for the small moments she had to herself; the city was far from peaceful, but being topside had settled her heart and renewed her determination to make a difference.

  “Hold on, Moona,” she muttered, before jumping skillfully into the abandoned air duct. “War might be coming, but even that can’t stop me from getting into the Military Academy today.”

  ♦4♦

  Exton knew from his studies that the earth had once shone with a crystal blue, brown, and green face, covered with a sporadic white veil of clouds. As the Perdition passed through the ocean of satellites and other space electronics, including the Old Republic’s International Space Station, he looked through the windshield of the Perdition and wondered if it ever would return to its previous state.

  “Probably not,” he murmured to himself, sickened yet transfixed by the sight before him. Flickers of grisly auroras snaked along the poles, shielding the darkened earth below while a relentless cloud cover, reaching from the Tropic of Cancer to the Tropic of Capricorn, sheltered the middle of the world, almost like a serpent had wound its way around the earth several times and was slowly squeezing it to death. He could clearly recall the gray underbelly of the beast from his days training in the URS.

  “We’ve reached our intended altitude, Captain.” Tyler Caldwell, the ship’s Commander and his new brother-in-law, turned toward him. Before Exton could reply an affirmative response, Tyler frowned.

  “What is it?” Exton asked.

  “Did you just come from the Biovid?” Tyler asked.

  “Uh … no.”

  “Really? Because you’re tracking mud behind you.”

  Exton frowned. “Ignore it,” he ordered. “And call for Olga. Tell her to send a crewmember to come and take care of it once I’m done here.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Despite the exchange, Tyler smiled before he continued with his report. “I’ve put down the anchor on the ship’s electro-fission core.”

  “Very good,” Exton commended. “See to the preparations of Captain Chainsword’s capsule.”

  “Already completed.” Tyler pointed to another screen nearby. “Emery says everyone is ready to go down on the launch pad. The preflight tests are completed, the atmosphere’s been checked … our analyst, Thora, says there is a storm brewing west of New Hope and moving eastward. It should work to our advantage, with the rain hitting their military base. Central and Western regions of the URS are clear.”

  “Excellent.” Exton nodded. “Have them prepare a place for me on the ship.”

  Tyler raised his brows. “You’re going to go down to Earth with them?”

  “Surely you don’t think just because you’re married to my sister now, you think it’s fine to challenge my decisions?”

  “I’ve almost always challenged your decisions,” Tyler reminded him. “As do most members of the Ecclesia. But you know we’re always leery when you return to Earth.”

  “I know, and it never seems to stop me,” Exton replied. He looked at the newest member of his family and faltered. Tyler was not just his best friend now; he was family, and family was family.

  In all fairness, Exton knew he couldn’t have asked for a better addition. Tyler had been at his side in the URS, and he’d been the first to rally behind Exton as captain of the Perdition.

  But even as Tyler gave his fealty, Exton could see the uncertainty lingering behind his gaze.

  “This is the tenth anniversary, Tyler. I want to honor my father,” Exton explained. “I always go.”

  Tyler sighed. “I know.” He ran a hand through his blond hair in frustration. “I guess this means I’m stuck at the helm, right?”

  “You already knew that,” Exton pointed out in a flat tone. “That’s your job as Flight Commander.”

  “Jared’s been coming along nicely with his flying exams,” Tyler countered. “I could let him pilot the ship for a bit and come with you guys.”

  Behind them, a young man close to twenty years of age suddenly jolted and straightened upright, hearing his name. Exton shot a nod in the boy’s direction. “The capsule crew has been briefed on the mission. I’ll need you to keep Perdition targeted on the eastern point of New Hope.”

  “New Hope?” Tyler repeated. Several crewmembers suddenly glanced over in his direction, their eyes wide or mouths open.

  Exton almost laughed at the sight, but decided against it. No need to give them a reason to doubt me, he thought. “Yes. Perdition will align to the coordinates of the city as we pass it in thirty minutes,” he instructed. “I think a short stop will be enough to completely devastate and demoralize the URS this year.”

  He turned and walked out, knowing there were several delayed, robotic salutes and soft whispers following him.

  “Captain,” Tyler called, stepping up beside him. They headed down the tight hallways, with Exton only half a step in front of Tyler.

  “I don’t want to discuss this with you, Tyler,” Exton told him. “I’ve already made up my mind.”

  “But I thought—” Tyler stopped, before he glanced around and lowered his voice. “I thought you were dead set against using the nukes.”

  Exton balked. “We’re not going to use them. I didn’t say we were, did I?”

  “No, but how else would you ‘completely devastate and demoralize’ the URS?”

  “When you are going up against an enemy,” Exton told him, “and there is no winning him over, no agreeable compromise, and no possible way to get what you want, then what do you do?”

  Tyler just stared at him, frowning.

  “You crush his heart,” Exton answered. “That is what we’re going to do.”

  “How?”

  “The same way we do our usual business—with charges and chainsaws. I’ve got a prize in mind, and I’ll need the Perdition ready for backup.”

  “You know, Emery’s worried about you.”

  The admission came out of nowhere. While it might have upset him, Exton was secretly pleased. Tyler had run out of logical arguments, so he was going to try to appeal to his softer emotions. Nice try,
Exton thought. “My sister has already expressed her concern for me. I assured her there is no great need for it.”

  “But don’t you think—”

  “No, I don’t think; I know.” Exton’s mouth twisted into a painful smile. “My heart is already crushed, remember? There’s no need to worry for something that’s already been lost.”

  As Tyler stumbled behind him, Exton kept walking, stopping only when he came to the deck elevator. “But the bombs—”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it, Tyler.”

  “You can’t order me around like you do everyone else,” Tyler insisted. “I’m not only your friend, but I was your partner in this business long before we knew what we were getting into.”

  “If you must know, we need some more supplies,” Exton grumbled. “So I thought this was an excellent chance to kill two birds with one stone.”

  “You’re sure you’re not going to do anything crazy?”

  “Crazy?” Exton repeated as he stepped into an elevator. “Oh, it’ll be crazy. But I do promise it’s not quite as extreme as you think. In fact, it’ll be similar to our other missions.”

  “Well,” Tyler remarked, clearly annoyed, “that’s a relief.”

  Exton smiled at the sarcasm before the doors closed, and he found himself descending down to Level Ten, where the ship’s transport hangar was located.

  The hangar design had been smart, and the secret launch pad was nothing short of pure genius. While the Perdition had been modeled in mostly astronomic style, the aeronautic design allowed for full and efficient use in a four-dimensional flying field.

  Emery came up beside him. “I know you’re dramatic and everything, but it’s things like this that the others and I don’t like.”

  “Dramatic? I’m not dramatic.”

  Emery arched an eyebrow at him. “Yes, you are, Exton. Don’t you think the ghost of Captain Chainsword is proof of that?”

  She has me there. Exton gave her a playful sneer. “Speaking of which, I think it’s time he made his appearance.”

  Pain, heady and nostalgic, shot through him as Exton remembered how proud and seemingly invincible their father was.