The Split

by Hannah Hopkins

  “Well I certainly hope you’re right. I’m not sure I could handle many early mornings with you without a cup of coffee,” his wife scathed. Elsie knew immediately that they must be from one of the gated wealthier communities which had guards protecting them and the best pick of resources delivered to their door for an exceptionally high fee. To still be worrying about something as insignificant as coffee after all the devastation that had ravaged Earth for the past decade was unthinkable to Elsie.

  The line moved forwards and the woman in front drew her damask cloak around herself. She itched ahead with her husband, the moonlight illuminating the taught tweed patches on his overcoat. Elsie followed them closely, trying to stay silent so as not to draw any attention to herself. The woman began looking around wistfully, her arms folded against the wind. She had pulled her scarf over her mouth to keep out the cold, distorting her voice so that her husband could no longer hear her.

  “All the coffee in the world won’t make it Earth though,” she muttered, glancing at the Mayfly with disdain.

  Elsie stood on her tiptoes, vying to get a glimpse past the gruff guards who were blocking the entrance to the Mayfly. Elsie counted ten of them, checking the prospective passengers thoroughly before they allowed them to enter. Soon it would be her turn. She felt sick. She was sure her legs would disappear at any moment and she would collapse loudly onto the floor. She tried to distract herself, looking up towards the beautiful velvet sky with hundreds of stars visible across its dark canopy. They twinkled majestically, their shiny light winking at her from across the galaxy. This would be the last time she ever saw the Earth’s sky, regardless of whether she was successful in her mission or not. No matter her own fate, she was determined that she would save her son, whatever it took.

  He had been sound asleep for the entire journey, the motion of her movement lulling him further into the sweet ignorance of his dreams. She peered down to look at his peaceful face. He was only a few months old and had no idea of the suffering and torment that had passed in his short life. It was her dream that he would never know the pain she had felt. Even if she was not allowed on board, she would plead with the guards to take her innocent son. There was no way she was going to let him die on the disease-ridden Earth.

  She closed her eyes and thought of Austin. If she was going to die tonight, that meant she would see him soon. She imagined him greeting her and the two of them sharing a joke. She terribly missed the way he used to laugh, his head tipped back, his eyes closed in hysteria as a loud and infectious noise burst from within him. She was pleased by her ability to so accurately conjure him in her mind, even after spending months trying to erase his image from her brain. Despite his final act of betrayal, she found that thinking of him still brought her great comfort, particularly in what she was beginning to feel certain would be the final moments of her life.

  Reluctantly, she opened her eyes to re-join reality and found that the woman in front had been staring at her most curiously. She gave her best apologetic smile, hoping that she wouldn’t fear her insane and alert the guards. She was just about to turn to her husband and say something, when a stern voice from ahead distracted her.

  “Next!” it called. They were at the front of the line. As soon as one of the guards finished with their passengers, Elsie would be next. She desperately scoured the reaches of her mind for something clever to say when questioned, but found she could think of nothing. All too soon, she was called ahead.

  “Ma’am” a guard to her left called, motioning her forwards. She reached the Mayfly’s entrance and stood perfectly still, awaiting his next instruction with a sense of dread.

  “Present your fingers please Ma’am,” he told her, holding up a DNA scanner. Elsie sized him up. He was tall and stocky. The lines around his eyes and mouth placed him in around his mid-forties. He had scars on the back of his hands and across his face from years spent in service. One of his eyes was discoloured from a blunt trauma and he had no emotion in his face whatsoever. His body language was indifferent, his gaze unseeing. He was a man who was simply doing his job. Elsie could tell that there was no way begging was going to work on him.

  “Your fingers, please Ma’am,” he prompted her. Unsure what to do, she pulled her arms out of her cloak, careful not to disturb her son. She delicately placed her hands on the screen of his scanner. A whirring noise and a blue light indicated that the reading of her fingerprints was taking place. After a few seconds, the screen flashed red with a large thick “X” in the centre.

  “Access denied,” a woman’s voice informed them. Elsie tried to keep her expression neutral, fearing that a show of any emotion would give her away.

  “Ma’am, can you confirm that you have received permission to board this spacecraft from the Government of the United Kingdom?” he demanded.

  “Er… I… yes,” Elsie stammered, not knowing what else to say. The guard’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and then began roaming over her, looking for a clue or a sign of danger. He faltered upon the bundle beneath her cloak and froze, his whole stance changing from nonchalant to alert in a matter of seconds. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his weapon, pointing it directly at her.

  “Put your hands in the air,” he said, his voice shaking.

  “No! It’s not what you think! Look!” she motioned to undo her cloak and reveal the sleeping baby underneath, but this only caused the guard to begin shouting even louder.

  “Do not put your hands under the cloak!” he yelled. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”

  Several of the other guards turned to see what was going on, running over and abandoning their posts as they rushed to join the confrontation. The last handful of passengers waiting to board on the beach gasped and screamed in horror.

  “It’s not a weapon!” Elsie pleaded, but it was no use. None of the guards could hear her over their frenzied shouting. The man who had first discovered her was talking into his Personal Device that was strapped tight around his wrist.

  “Do I have permission to shoot, Sir?” she heard him say.

  She tried to scream, but the sound caught in her throat before it could escape. Her vision began to blur, the world around her whirling faster and faster. It was happening. The guard was going to shoot her dead. She took a deep breath to steady herself, wondering with desperation if there was any way to protect her son from the bullets that would surely hit her at any moment.

  “Hold on,” a voice said from the other end of the Personal Device. The voice sounded eerily familiar, but Elsie couldn’t make it out over all the commotion.

  “Stand down, stand down,” the guard informed the others. They stopped yelling and lowered their weapons. Elsie remained frozen, petrified that even a slight movement would give them incentive to shoot. A black silhouette appeared in the long corridor that led to inside the Mayfly. The guards stood statue still, their backs to the approaching figure and their faces fixed in a new expression of calm.

  Suddenly, a man stepped out of the doorway and Elsie blinked. There was a moment of confusion followed by a crippling sense of relief. She knew this man. She knew him very well.

  “Alfie,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. Alfie smiled, his unmistakeable features coming into focus.

  “It’s ‘Captain Alfred Sommers’ now,” he grinned.

  She took in his uniform; the white high-neck jumper made from smooth airy material, the sleek black trousers that seemed to fit perfectly, the golden badge depicting two planets with a dotted line between them. Her mouth hung open. Alfie noticed her expression and began to laugh. She flinched, momentarily transported back in time by the musical sound.

  “Come inside, Elsie. We can talk,” he said. His voice enveloped her in a warm blanket of comfort and without having to think for a second, she stepped over the threshold of the Mayfly, watching as he motioned for the guards to return to their posts and continue their duties, forgetting about the entire event.

  “Just wait there a second,” Alfie smil
ed. Elsie stood still in the Mayfly’s entrance, watching as he conversed with the guard who had discovered her.

  “If they show up, don’t let them board, their apartment is no longer vacant,” she heard him say. There was some murmuring before the guard nodded and saluted Alfie, rotating back to face out into the night. Alfie returned to her side and indicated for her to begin walking down the long passage. She did so, looking around with hesitation. High walls of sheeted metal rose up around her, spanning over her head to form a strange titanium archway. Yellow lamps had been fixed into the wall at periodic intervals, their dim artificial light leading the way to another door a few yards ahead of them.

  “I can’t believe you’re a Captain now,” she said to Alfie as they headed towards it. He looked at her with confusion, perhaps wondering how she could make light conversation after having been seconds from death.

  “Yes, I applied for my Captaincy after we left College,” he explained.

  “Well, congratulations,” she praised him.

  “Thank you,” he replied, his face suddenly twisting into an awkward expression of discomfort. “Sorry I didn’t keep in touch Elsie. I meant to, I really did, but I was so preoccupied with all of this…” he gestured to the Mayfly. “Time got away from me.”

  “We were all busy,” Elsie smiled. As she spoke, her baby grizzled from beneath her cloak and began to stir.

  “What was that?” Alfie asked.

  Elsie pulled the cloak over her head and revealed the sleeping baby underneath, his little head resting daintily on her chest. Alfie craned his neck so that he could look into face.

  “It seems you’ve earnt a ‘congratulations’ too,” he beamed. “He looks just like you. What’s his name?”

  “William,” Elsie replied.

  “After your father,” Alfie nodded.

  “Yes, I thought the world could do with another William James. Although,” she paused, her voice faltering with confusion. “I’m not sure if I can even say that anymore- ‘the world’. There is no world anymore, is there?”

  Alfie grinned.

  “There will be,” he assured her.

  “I assume Austin is the baby’s father,” he said after a few moments, his tone matter of fact.

  “Yes,” Elsie answered.

  “Where is he?” he asked as casually as he could, keeping his eyes fixed on the door ahead of them.

  “He’s dead,” she said wearily, the extreme emotions she had experienced that day beginning to take their toll. Alfie stood still, immobilised by the news.

  “He’s dead?” he repeated in shock. Elsie nodded. He began shaking his head back and forth, his eyes darting from side to side as if he were trying to solve an equation that had no answer.

  “How did it happen?” he asked, deep confusion spreading across the recesses of his usually composed face.

  Elsie gave him a meaningful look and he nodded, piecing the clues together in his mind as he began to understand.

  “He didn’t let it go, did he? His belief in the ‘Great Conspiracy’”

  “No, he didn’t,” Elsie replied.

  There was a brief moment of silence, during which Alfie cleared his throat several times, stalling as he determined how best to phrase his next question.

  “Do you ever think about…them?” he asked, his tone suddenly fearful. Elsie sucked her breath inwards.

  “No,” she told him. “I don’t. If I did, I’d end up driving myself mad like Austin. Besides, there’s bigger things to think about now.”

  Alfie nodded, folding his arms behind his back and straightening his posture as they came to the end of the passage. A sensor on the left-hand side of the door flashed impatiently, demanding a fingerprint to scan.

  “Well Elsie, are you ready?” Alfie asked her. Elsie smiled at him weakly. She lacked the energy to indulge his schoolboy excitement as he prepared to show her his shiny new toy. She longed to find the oblivion of sleep and lose herself in it, exhausted by the emotional toll of her long journey. She was certain that nothing could impress her enough to keep out the sadness that was slowly creeping into her mind, pouring through the floodgates that had been opened by her painful thoughts of Austin. To her shock, she found that she was wrong.

  The door opened with a touch from Alfie’s finger and the pair of them stepped into the heart of the Mayfly. They found themselves in a gigantic lobby, the size of at least two football pitches. The floor was made from smooth white marble that gleamed and glistened from the reflections of the numerous lights that were fixed overhead. Large, oval, glass elevators were transporting people from the ground to the floors above, moving smoothly at first before suddenly jolting in all directions. The lobby itself was circular, and transparent walkways ran around its outer edge on every floor. Elsie could see passengers hurrying along them, some carrying bags and suitcases, others strolling with their families, pointing with enthusiasm whenever they saw something new. The ground floor was filled with venues designed for the passenger’s entertainment, with coffee shops, clothing boutiques and toy stores making up just some of the available outlets. Her eye was drawn immediately to the familiar ‘I-Tech’ logo hanging above one of the shop windows, every gadget and device imaginable laid out on display. A gigantic wafer-thin screen hung from wires in the centre of the floor, presently displaying the fifteen-minute countdown to The Split.

  “It’s so big,” Elsie mused, her bleary eyes struggling to comprehend the wealth of new sights in front of her.

  “Come this way,” Alfie urged, leading her towards the nearest lift. The lights seemed to become a hue brighter as she stepped somewhat dubiously into the oval pod. Alfie tapped on the glass and an interactive screen appeared, his fingers moving across it at such a speed that she could not discern what he was typing.

  “I’m taking you to your apartment now,” he informed her.

  “I have an apartment?” she replied with confusion.

  “Yes, you’ll be on the top floor with me,” he confirmed, pressing a final button that caused the lift to begin vibrating wildly. In a flash, they were flying up towards the ceiling, with Elsie certain she had left her stomach behind on the ground floor. Their speed increased as they shot past the different levels of living accomodation, the blue carpeted corridors blurring into one gigantic sea of cotton. Elsie closed her eyes and turned away, the sight beginning to make her dizzy. By the time they had reached the top floor, they had reached such a speed that she was convinced they would break through the ceiling, launching into Space independently from the Mayfly.

  Mercifully, the lift slowed to a smooth stop and they disembarked into a small but extravagant atrium. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting dancing shadows across the floor, which was paved with marble in hues of swirling gold and bronze. Five sets of wide double doors stood at precise intervals around the walls, each marked with a number. The doorknobs were made of crystal, and silver-plated archways twisted around the doorframes. Alfie led Elsie to number ‘three’, delicately taking her hand and touching her finger to the sensor pad beside it.

  “You’ll be able to gain entry yourself now,” he explained. She nodded, her head swimming as she attempted to take it all in. Alfie’s mahogany eyes and dark eyebrows blurred into his brown hair when she tried to focus on his face, leaving her to wonder how much longer she could stay awake without collapsing.

  She followed him into her apartment, a vast space that was as lavishly decorated as the atrium would suggest. Plush rugs spilled across the laminate flooring, so soft she could almost feel their tenderness through her worn and beaten boots. Large mounted paintings of vivid landscapes from Earth hung across the wall, providing a comforting reminder of home. A shiny electric fireplace was attached to the wall at the end of an elongated black glass table, complete with matching chairs. A series of white sofas and chaises were arranged in the living room around a quartz coffee table that had a variety of brand new tablets laid out on its surface, never having yet been touched.


  “This is it,” Alfie announced. “There are also three bedrooms, two bathrooms and a spacious kitchen.”

  “Oh…” Elsie replied. “That’s good.”

  “I expect you’ll be wanting to get some rest now,” he noted and she nodded readily, allowing him to lead her semi-conscious body into the master bedroom.

  Once inside, Alfie strode over to the large wardrobe and produced a pair of red, silk pyjamas from its depths. He laid them on the bed and then turned his back to her, tapping on a small rectangular screen that was fixed into the wall. Elsie undid her travelling cloak and removed it, along with her boots. She carefully detached William from her body and placed him gently onto the bed, his sling falling to the floor with a delicate thud. Hastily, she pulled off her mud-covered trousers and fraying jumper and put the fresh pyjamas on in their place. Her whole body sighed with relief as she found herself physically comfortable for the first time since she could remember. She sat down on the bed, ready to fall asleep at any moment.

  From across the room there came a whirring noise. Alfie’s head snapped to the direction of a hatch carved into the furthest wall. It was protected by a curved, metal door which opened upon Alfie’s touch, revealing the contents within. Elsie gasped with surprise. Sitting inside was a beautiful cream cot, complete with a holographic mobile depicting whirling planets and zooming spaceships. In one swift motion, Alfie heaved the cot into position next to Elsie’s bed.

  “You can order anything you want from there,” he said, pointing to the rectangular screen. “The people downstairs will send it up.”

  Elsie wasn’t sure what any of this meant. She watched somewhat distantly as Alfie picked William up and placed him into the cot, pulling a soft blue blanket up to his shoulders and tucking him in.

  “Thank you,” Elsie murmured, falling backwards and allowing a feathery pillow to catch her head. “For everything.”