Aftershock

by Sam Fisher

  ‘Who am I, you ask? Who are any of us? I’ve been trying to answer that one for 20 years. My name is Howard. You look cold, young lady. Come.’

  ‘Come where?’

  ‘My home is close by.’

  ‘Home?’ Steph asked, aghast.

  He simply turned and walked away, leaving Steph little option but to follow. She kept her distance, the burning branch at arm’s length.

  It was dark, but Steph could just make out rocks, sand, dead plants, the occasional piece of tangled wreckage from Paul. She kept 3 or 4 metres back from Howard, eyeing him suspiciously. After a while, a pale light appeared in the distance. It grew and brightened as they approached.

  Howard’s home was an astonishing, amorphous thing. Steph’s first impression was that it was something from the props department of a fantasy movie. The centrepiece was an old four-wheel-drive, a 30-year-old Toyota. The sides had been ripped away and canvas structures extended from each side. Where the driver’s cabin had once been, the doors had been taken off and more box shapes stretched from the edges of the wagon to posts buried deep in the sand. Five metres from the Toyota stood a line of poles. Wrapped around the top of each were bundles of burning twigs. Together, these lit up the area with a pasty yellow luminescence, throwing weird shadows and black shapes against the canvas and tangled metal.

  Howard stopped at the end of one of the canvas constructions that stretched from the mutilated Toyota. ‘Welcome to Chez Howard,’ he said with a smile, and dived inside.

  For several moments, Steph stood alone, the burning branch in her hand. Howard’s shape was just visible for a second behind the canvas structures. Discarding the burning wood, Steph removed the torch from her belt bag and gripped it tight. Pushing aside the canvas flap Howard had used, she took slow, cautious steps into the shadows and flicked on the torch. To her amazement, she saw a set of roughly hewn steps in front of her. It looked like a picture she had seen of Tutankhamen’s tomb in the Valley of the Kings, a series of hand-cut blocks leading underground.

  Ten steps down, she had no need for the torch. The steps led to a cavern some 8 metres square. The ceiling was low, but the walls glowed orange. Light came from a dozen lanterns in alcoves spaced around the room.

  Howard stood a short distance away. ‘Welcome,’ he said.

  In the centre of the strange subterranean room stood a byre made from bits of car and twisted wood. Josh lay on the bed, his head raised on a couple of pillows.

  ‘Isn’t this just so cool?’ he said.

  38

  ‘How the hell did I end up here?’ Howard asked, repeating Steph’s question. ‘Fate? Karma? Meticulous planning? Who knows?’

  Josh was sitting up in the bed drinking a cup of steaming liquid, which Howard had told him was called Gung Ging tea. Steph cradled hers and took a few small sips. It wasn’t half bad. She had topped up Josh’s painkillers with supplies from her cybersuit. Josh looked surprisingly comfortable, but both of them knew the drugs would not last forever. The room was welcomingly warm, a fire burned in a metre square opening in the centre of one wall, the chimney had been cut into the wall and exited in the sand at ground level. Steph studied Howard’s face. She had been wrong about his age, she decided. In the orange light of the subterranean room, he looked older, at least 60. His beard and long shaggy hair were more white than dark and his skin was leathery, worn and pitted. Steph could imagine each line and crag told a story. He had large, dark brown eyes, long lashes, a narrow mouth. He was probably once rather handsome, she concluded.

  ‘You want the simple version?’ Howard asked, looking from one of his guests to the other.

  Josh nodded.

  ‘Well, I was in my early twenties I guess, back in the seventies. Everyone was off on the magic bus, searching for enlightenment, tripping on acid in Goa. And I went along with them, straight out of university – Cambridge, Trinity, would you believe?’ And he produced a rasping self-mocking laugh. ‘I washed up on Goa’s lovely warm shores too and I took my share of whatever drug was offered, in search of my spiritual guide. Didn’t find one though. Then, one day, I had a minor epiphany. I looked around at all the people I had fallen in with and I thought to myself ... Look at you. You’re all trying to be so unorthodox, all trying to be so alternative, and what do you do? You all troupe off to India like a herd of sheep. How radical! How individualistic of you!’

  ‘So you dropped back in?’ Steph said.

  ‘Oh very good,’ Howard laughed. ‘Yes, I did for a bit, Stephanie. I did. I went back to London. Got myself a job, got married and had two children.’

  ‘So, what happened?’ Josh said, wincing as he tried to move up in the bed.

  ‘Melissa, my wife, and the two girls were killed in a car crash.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Steph began, but Howard had a palm raised.

  ‘You shouldn’t be. You didn’t know them. Besides, it was over 30 years ago and, well, the world didn’t stop moving in its orbit. But it was the pivotal event in my life. I realised I had gone to India for a reason. I really was uncomfortable with the orthodox life. I sold everything I had, gave up the job, bought a four-wheel-drive, loaded her up with supplies, tools everything I needed ... and I drove.’

  Steph shook her head. ‘So you’ve been here for...?’

  ‘Not sure, my dear. What year is it?’

  Steph gazed into his eyes and was about to reply.

  ‘Actually, don’t tell me,’ Howard interrupted. ‘It really doesn’t matter ... So, this E-Force is a rescue team?’ he asked, quickly changing the subject. ‘I saw your plane come down. It was getting dark, but I still saw it quite clearly. I know I’ve been away a long time, but it looked like a fine piece of kit, Stephanie.’

  ‘It is ... was.’ Steph glanced over to Josh who had fallen asleep. He was snoring quietly.

  ‘You’re worried about your friend.’

  ‘Well, yes. I’ve cleaned his wounds and we have painkillers available from my suit. Josh’s was too badly damaged in the crash. But they’re running out.’

  ‘So, what do you plan to do?’

  ‘Good question,’ Steph responded. ‘Our comms are out. You don’t have a radio, I imagine?’

  ‘I do, but it doesn’t work any more, my dear.’

  ‘No power, right?’

  ‘It’s not that. I have a solar power system. Which works rather well, I might add. I generate just enough for my needs, and until a few years ago, I had a working radio. I venture into Fung Ching Wa occasionally. It’s a small town about 130 kilometres south-east of here. I stock up on replacement electrical components, new cooking utensils, anything I couldn’t make myself. Anyway, the radio still works, but the signal is nothing but static.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Look.’ He took Steph over to an ancient-looking Rediffusion two-way valve set. Turning it on, Howard shifted the dial. Nothing but a stream of static tumbled from the tinny speaker. ‘It happened suddenly, one night. I don’t mind confessing that for some time I thought they’d finally dropped the bomb and civilisation was history.’ He produced his raspy laugh again and his eyes shone. Steph looked at him, and for an instant she saw a new light there, an excitement, a flicker of wishful thoughts lost in disappointment. ‘But, no. It was just the bloody Chinese,’ Howard concluded.

  ‘The Chinese?’ Steph asked.

  ‘Their base, Hang Cheng. It’s about 60 kilometres northwest of here.’ Howard was pointing across the room. ‘I don’t know what they’re doing there of course. And to be honest, dear girl, I have absolutely no interest in knowing either. But, I must admit, I am rather peeved they’ve buggered up my radio.’

  ‘You’ve seen this base?’

  ‘Yes. You probably did too. You would have flown over it.’

  Steph was nodding, lost in thought. Then she said, ‘Well, that answers some questions, I guess. But, the long and short of it is that you can’t contact the outside world ... right?’

  ‘Not any more. Sorry.’

  �
��What medical supplies do you have?’

  ‘You saw them. The kit I gave you to patch up Josh.’

  ‘That’s it?’ Steph exclaimed. Then she sighed heavily. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.’

  ‘It’s quite all right. You’ve had a rather trying day. The fact is, I don’t need anything more. If I hurt myself badly or I contract some horrible disease, I will simply die. My medical supplies are enough to help with a cut finger or a cold.’ He looked at Steph. ‘You’re all in, young lady. Why don’t you follow your friend’s example and get some sleep?’

  Steph sat down and ran a hand through her hair, then rested her fingertips on her temples. ‘I can think of nothing nicer, but I have to find something in the wreckage to help us.’

  ‘Well in that case, the best I can do is offer to keep you company. Lead the way.’

  39

  Howard had devised an ingenious torch. It was a glass box fashioned from pieces of Toyota window. He had covered five internal sides of the box with metal foil salvaged from the cooling system of the car’s engine. In the centre was a chamber filled with the distillate of a shrub he cultivated in a vegetable garden beside the Toyota. It was the same plant that supplied the Gung Ging tea and, he confided to Steph, he refined it into a particularly potent hooch that he called Brain Cracker. The torch cast a powerful, diffuse beam and lit up the desert like a beacon.

  Even close to Howard’s camp they found pieces of metal and plastic, wires, glass fragments and bits of fabric. Fifty metres to the west, the ground rose suddenly and the sand gave way to a rocky outcrop. Craggy, wind-blasted stone rose from the coarse gravelly sand. Steph was about to lead them round the rocks to the south, but Howard put a gloved hand on her arm. ‘We have to climb over,’ he said. ‘There are jagged rocks at least 3 metres high to the north and south. You can’t get round either way.’ He stepped ahead and began to clamber over the outcrop.

  It was then they both saw the smashed up fuselage of the plane. Ripped into four pieces, it lay half-buried in the sand. Great holes exposed the insides of the shattered aircraft. From 40 metres away, the Silverback looked like a mutilated snake, ravaged by some predator that had ditched it in the sand and disappeared. All around lay smashed boxes, twisted metal, panels of Maxinium, and shards of glass glinting in the beam like diamonds on a velvet cloth.

  They clambered down and Steph ran ahead, while Howard followed at a more sedate pace. Close to the plane, she crouched to inspect a metal cube about 30 centimetres on each side, partially buried in the sand. She turned it over and in the torchlight she could see it was nothing but a section of conduit. Tossing it aside, she stood up and headed straight for Paul. Howard caught up a few moments later.

  ‘Best if you stay here,’ Steph said. ‘It wouldn’t be a good idea to go poking around. I know this plane.’

  Howard nodded and put out a hand to indicate Steph should go ahead.

  It was hard to tell what was what inside the shell of the ravaged aircraft. It had been smashed around almost beyond recognition. But Steph knew what she was looking for. All she could do was pray it was where it should be.

  She could see that the front section of the plane was almost totally obliterated. The nose was buried in the sand up to where the copilot’s seat could just be seen. The seat was a mangled frame of metal. A few tatters of fabric and foam clung to it. Behind this was the midsection of the aircraft, a storage area for ancillary equipment, spares and backup units. Behind this was the computer centre, the brain of the aircraft. The blast had transformed it into a tangle of tubes, wires and melted plastic. Ducking low and taking exceptional care, Steph eased herself into an opening in the midsection of the Silverback.

  She splashed the torch light around the inside of the cylinder of Maxinium. It was the least badly damaged part of the plane, probably because it was the section of the aircraft with the fewest electrical components and was some way from the engines and fuel cells.

  To the left, the curved wall was pock-marked and cracked. On the righthand side of the chamber, Steph could see a line of storage bays. All but two of them were warped and the doors had caved in, shattering everything inside. Steph put the torch down on a high shelf of twisted metal on the left side of the fuselage, and pointed the light towards the storage units.

  The first door she tried was stuck fast. She kicked it and yanked on the handle and it flew open, almost knocking her off her feet. Inside, she found flares, a box of tools, two boxes marked ‘emergency rations’. On the floor lay a coil of reinforced carbonylon rope.

  She pulled the items out and piled them on the floor of the gutted Silverback, then stepped up to the only other intact door. To her immense relief, it opened with a single yank on the handle. And there, crushed to one side of the storage unit by a pile of metal boxes, was the one thing in the whole world she most wanted to see – a backup cybersuit.

  Steph had the suit in her hand and was bending to pick up the other items when she heard the crack of gunshots. She grabbed the torch, eased her way along the treacherously narrow midsection and emerged into the freezing night through a jagged opening in the plane’s outer shell. Howard was pulling himself up from a crouching position. He was breathing heavily, misty breath in front of his face. In his hand was an ancient-looking revolver. On the ground lay the twisted forms of two dead animals, one on its back, the other on its side. Close to the bodies the sand was soaked red.

  ‘I forgot to tell you about the wolves,’ Howard said. ‘Nasty buggers.’

  40

  Steph woke Josh with a gentle shake of the shoulder. Howard strode over to the fire to put some more wood into the flames.

  ‘Hey,’ Josh said. ‘What’s new?’

  ‘I have a present for you.’ She held up the cybersuit. ‘Complete with nanobots and your very own painkillers.’

  ‘You’re a miracle worker, Steph.’

  ‘I know,’ she shot back, and helped him remove the remnants of the old suit. Underneath, he was wearing an almost weightless, skintight carbofibre undergarment. Helping Josh get the suit over his injured knee was a struggle, but they both concluded pain now for the reparative properties of the nanobots was a fair exchange. Once it was on, Steph touched the wrist monitor on Josh’s sleeve. He lay back trying to manage the pain as best he could while she altered parameters and reset the suit.

  She looked up with a smile.

  ‘Done. I’ve programmed the nanobots to concentrate on your shattered knee. Some stronger painkillers should hit any minute, and I reckon you’ll be as good as new by morning. Now I think you need some rest.’

  ‘Okay, doc. But you’ve discovered something else, haven’t you? I can tell.’

  Steph looked at him seriously. ‘Howard has a radio.’

  ‘That’s good ... right?’

  ‘Would be. But he can’t pick up a signal. A few years back, But get this ... The interference comes from a Chinese military base about 60 kilometres away.’

  Josh looked startled for a second, then his eyes narrowed. ‘That explains a thing or two.’

  ‘It does.’

  ‘So what now?’

  She looked at him hard. ‘We’ve no way of reaching the others. All we can do is hope Tom is a miracle worker too.’

  41

  Dome Gamma

  Harry Flanders leaned on the door of the emergency exit, but it would not budge. He bent down and picked up a piece of concrete that was lying close by. Without hesitating, he smashed it into the glass panel above the handle. Pulling his sleeve down over his hand to protect himself from the glass shards left in the window frame, he put his hand through the opening and unlocked the door from the far side.

  ‘Everyone okay to go on?’ Harry asked, surveying the faces of the others. Alfred looked all in. He was sitting against the wall. Jim was beside him, with an arm around his shoulders. Kristy stood dejectedly, staring down at the wreckage of Dome Gamma. Her face was streaked with blood and makeup. Nick was sitting on his own, his head between
his knees and Danny had wandered over to the railing of the mezzanine, gazing into the shadows at the smouldering debris and crushed bodies.

  ‘Might be better if you leave me behind,’ Alfred said, and started to cough.

  ‘He stays, I stay,’ Jim said, looking across to Harry.

  ‘I’m not sure that would be wise,’ Harry replied, taking a couple of paces towards the group. ‘I reckon this dome is under a lot of strain. Look up there.’ He pointed to the apex of the dome just visible past the ceiling of the mezzanine. They could all see shallow cracks spreading out from Gamma’s metal cap.

  ‘It’s impossible to say,’ Danny commented. ‘That could hold for weeks. Rescuers could be here any minute.’

  Kristy looked earnestly at Danny. ‘You really think someone will rescue us?’

  ‘Of course,’ the old actor said. ‘I have no doubts. The marines will be here, the US Navy.’

  ‘The cavalry galloping over the hill at the last minute?’ Harry said sarcastically. ‘The good old US of A to the rescue.’

  ‘Well there ain’t going to be anyone else coming for us, is there, young fella?’

  Harry shrugged. ‘Yeah, but if they come, they’ll be late ... as usual.’ He turned back to Alfred and Jim. ‘Look. I really don’t think you should stay here. There’s no telling if Dome Beta is any better, but believe me, this place is going to go. I can feel it.’

  ‘Okay,’ Alfred said after a moment. ‘I’m feeling better. I’m not ready to lie down and die just yet.’

  ‘That’s the spirit,’ Harry replied. Then he walked over to Nick and gave the kid a hand up. The boy wiped his eyes. He’d been crying quietly but was trying his best to cover it up. ‘Come on, Nick,’ Harry said. ‘You lead the way with me, yes?’

  The door opened onto a dark stairwell.

  ‘I say we go straight down to the bottom of the dome,’ Harry said.