Jubilee Year: A Science Fiction Thriller (Erelong Book 1)

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Jubilee Year: A Science Fiction Thriller (Erelong Book 1) Page 2

by Gerard O'Neill


  “A what?” She cried out squinting at him from under a deeply furrowed brow.

  There was something about the boy that filled her with suspicion. He seemed to her to be a wild kid. Anyway, one could never be too careful at her age.

  “A big hot rock!” Storm replied.

  The old lady peered up into the gray vault of sky stretching over the outback. “Well, I’ve not seen one like it before. Aren’t they s’posed to burn up?”

  Storm looked at the rope of smoke that was slowly dispersing. Penny’s dad would know the answer to Mrs. Sedgewick’s question. He gave the old woman a reassuring smile.

  “It probably hit the ground somewhere in the outback,” Storm told her.

  “Dunno,” Mrs. Sedgewick replied, shaking her head. “It looked just like it kept going, didn’t it? I’m sure they’re not s’posed to do that.”

  She aimed the spray at her garden and muttered to herself as she watched the torrent of water flood the dry earth.

  He reached through the open window of Stella’s car to clap Storm on the shoulder.

  “Jeez, just look at you,” Pete said to Storm. “All that farm work is building you some respectable muscle.”

  “That’s good to know,” Storm replied. “Because it’s not making me rich. That’s for sure.”

  Pete chuckled. “Give my regards to Stella.”

  Summer looked up at her father. “Awl, Dad! Give her your regards? That is just so worth passing on.”

  Pete fidgeted with the sill of the door. “I’m sure you can think of a better way to say it for me.”

  Summer reached over her brother to place her hand over Pete’s.

  “You still love Mum, don’t you, Daddy?”

  “Course I do,” Pete replied. “You tell her so for me.”

  Storm started the engine.

  “Hey, Dad. Remember on Thursday night I’m bringing Penny over here. You got to be nice to her! Remember we are going steady—and all that.”

  “Just tell me one thing,” Pete said. “Why would anyone name their daughter after an old coin? It makes me think of all those sayings, like a penny for your thoughts, or Penny wise and pound foolish, or she’s a bad penny. Doesn’t anyone say those things anymore?”

  Summer gave a snort of derision. “Whoever says any of that, Daddy?”

  “Maybe no one does say that stuff anymore, but it’s still a dumb choice of name if you ask me.”

  As Pete stepped back Storm edged the car away from the curb.

  “Yeah,” Storm said. “I’ve never heard anyone come out with any of those sayings either. Apart from you that is! So don’t tease her about her name. Cause it won’t be funny.”

  Pete gave him a wave. “Don’t worry, son. I’ll play nice. I’m looking forward to seeing Penny again.”

  He mussed up his daughter’s hair. “You’re developing a powerful kick,” he said to her. “You should be a striker in your soccer team this year.”

  She laughed in response.

  “Love ya, Daddy,” Summer she called through her open window.

  “Love you, Sum,” Pete said as he stepped back from the car.

  Pete stood on the curb, watching until the car turned the corner. Then he pushed the old twisted gate open and walked up the path to the house. He paused at the front door as the thought struck him that he was getting to be a lonely old bastard. He whistled, but true to the dog’s nature, it had run off again.

  Red Sun

  Ever since Pete moved out of Stella’s, Storm found time with his dad was all about fixing things. If he was not helping to repair the homestead’s rusty corrugated-iron roof, he was passing a spanner to him under the hood of a car that would probably never run under its own power again. To stand a chance of success, a visit with Penny would have to focus on fun, and Storm knew Pete could always be distracted by a ball game.

  They had been playing in the street for almost an hour, hitting a tennis ball with Pete’s cricket bat.

  Pete was feeling his age and beginning to get a little cranky, but true to his word, he had not cracked one joke at Penny’s expense. He took a wild swing, clipping the ball and sending it straight up.

  Penny dove forward and caught it cleanly.

  “No one coulda hit that,” Pete said unable to disguise his surprise that Penny caught him out.

  “You may as well throw an underarm,” he said, glaring at Storm. “What kind of spin did you put on it?”

  “It’s getting dark,” Storm replied. “You would’ve slammed it if you’d been wearing your glasses.”

  “You’re right,” Pete said with a look of resignation. “Time to call it quits,” he said and walked down the drive beside his house, the bat swinging loosely from his hand. “Let me put this in the garage. Come on around the back. There’s something I want you to show you both.”

  Penny sidled up against Storm. “He’s been drinking, hasn’t he? I smelled it on his breath.”

  Storm felt a wave of embarrassment.

  “Well, it’s the end of the day, isn’t it?” He said feeling suddenly defensive.

  “Don’t get mad, poppet. It explains why he kept missing the ball. That’s all I meant.”

  They sat on the boards of the back porch next to Pete in his broken cane chair.

  “Do you ever wonder why there’s so much red light at this time of the day?” Pete asked Storm, patting the dog beside his broken cane chair and staring out over the vegetable garden.

  “That would be the setting Sun,” Storm told him with a half smile.

  “Don’t be a smartass,” Pete snapped and consulted his watch. “Sunset isn’t happening for more than a half an hour, yet we already have that intense red glow. And all that cloud lying across the horizon doesn’t look right.”

  “What’s wrong with the clouds?” Storm asked.

  “They are almost always there. Don’t you notice?”

  “A red sky at night is the shepherd’s delight, but a red sky in the morning is the shepherd’s warning,” Penny chanted.

  Storm gave her a slow clap, but Pete turned to her and nodded his head. “That old rhyme is handed down wisdom. It’s a thumb guide. So the average bloke knows what weather to expect the next day. If all we ever got was a red sky every morning and every evening those words would never have made any damned sense.”

  “Guess not,” Storm muttered with a shrug.

  “You remember when we used to go to the beach in our old Holden Kingswood?” He asked Storm. “We did a trip to the coast for two summers in a row.”

  “Yeah, we did too,” Storm grinned at Pete. “They were good times.”

  “They were, weren’t they?” Pete said, smiling with pleasure at the memory. “Do you remember how I used to tell you to watch the Sun melt into the sea? It looked that way back then. Now you are lucky to see the Sun so much as touch the horizon, what with all that chemtrail shit they spray over us.”

  Storm raised his eyebrows and leaned across Penny to gaze at Pete’s watch.

  “Sheesh, Pen. Look at the time. We should be heading off.”

  Penny ignored the cue and didn’t move an inch.

  “You’re right Mr. Elliot. I remember going on camping trips with school friends. We would watch the sunset.”

  She turned to gaze at Storm. “Didn’t you ever do that with your mates?”

  Storm shrugged as he got to his feet.

  “Are you still getting up at five-thirty for your runs?” Pete asked him.

  “I’m averaging two miles, three days a week. It’s hard getting out of bed since I started fencing for old man Harris. He’s working me like I’m one of his dogs.”

  “Well, next time you go for a run, look to the west around forty minutes before sunrise.”

  “How long do I have to do that?”

  “For as long as it takes,” Pete replied.

  “And I’m looking for what exactly?”

  “Both east and west directions are interesting,” Pete replied, ignoring the specifics of
the question. “You’re looking for something you never saw before,” he said.

  “Like stars?” Storm asked.

  “Like lights,” Pete said. “After the Southern Cross has passed below the horizon.”

  Storm grinned. “Jeez, Dad. You have to get yourself a new hobby. Anything but staring at the sky.”

  He turned the car around and looked back to wave farewell, but Pete was already inside the house.

  “I shouldn’t have given him such a hard time,” Storm said.

  “Don’t whip yourself over it,” Penny replied, placing his hand on his shoulder.

  He shrugged her hand away. He was still a little annoyed she had brought up Pete’s drinking. He had never talked to Penny about that before. It must have been her mother talking about stuff she ought to have been keeping to herself. She was Pete’s doctor after all. He glanced across at Penny and saw confusion written large on her face.

  “Yeah, well, he would’ve drunk a schooner or two with his mates at the bar this afternoon,” he told her. “I’ve seen him worse when he wasn’t expecting me.”

  “Is he allowed to visit your house?”

  “Mom doesn’t have a protection notice out against him,” he replied. “He doesn’t tell us why he won’t come over.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said and placed her hand on his thigh.

  “He spends way too much time alone,” he told her.

  He pulled the car back over to the curb and killed the engine.

  “I’ve changed my mind, Pen. I want to stay over with Dad.”

  He got out and waited beside the driver’s door, holding it open for her as she walked around the car.

  “What’s bothering you?” She asked gently.

  “I need to talk to him about things I have on my mind—that’s all.”

  Penny could see he was closing her out. She wondered if he would ever allow her a peek inside his head so she might have a chance to help him.

  “You can actually tell me stuff!” She said quietly. “You know that, right? You can trust me.”

  He gave a self-conscious shrug, hoping he looked like he was being casual.

  “Yeah—look—don’t worry about it. See you tomorrow.”

  He turned when he heard the Rottweiler down the road howl, and he chuckled when next he heard Ashcroft yelling at the dog to shut up.

  “Okay, then,” She said as she reached for the ignition and froze as the car began to rock. “Hey! Is that you? It’s not funny, you know?”

  He shook his head, thinking she was playing for time. Keeping him at the car door. The thought that Penny could turn out to be as neurotic as her mother was awful.

  That’s when he felt the ground shake. It was just like a giant wombat was digging a burrow beneath them.

  They stared at each other, neither knowing what to say. It was the first earthquake they had experienced in their short lives and it was not to be the last.

  Orphan Kids

  “Just what do you expect me to do?” Pete asked Storm with a look of bewilderment.

  “Just come around!” Storm replied. “Say hello to Mom. You don’t even have to come inside.”

  “I think it’s going to take me a little longer, son. I’m not sure I want to pay her a visit right now.”

  “Don’t you bloody care about how Summer feels?” Storm blurted out the words, his voice near breaking.

  Pete felt regret hit him like a fist. He dropped his head to avoid the accusing eyes of his son. “You kids always came first.”

  “Do you really mean that? Summer has spent—like—two frigging years without a dad. I’m supposed to fill in for you, I guess.”

  He stopped before he said worse.

  Pete coughed and thumped his chest with the edge of a fist to ease the irritation in his damaged lungs. “You do a good job, son. I’ve seen how she looks up to you. You make me proud.”

  “Why do you drink all the time?” Storm asked, and he gazed down at the stubby in his own hand and set it down on the porch boards.

  Maybe I’m going to end up like him one day, Storm thought.

  “What d’ya mean?” Pete asked pointlessly because the boy was right.

  He didn’t have to go and say it straight out like he did, Pete thought.

  “You’re an alcoholic, Dad. You know it.”

  He turned away so his old man would not see his eyes tear up.

  Storm didn’t mean it to come out the way he said it. He thought about walking away before his dad lost his temper.

  Pete gave a deep, long and ragged sigh that came out more of a sob. So much so he startled himself and he cleared his throat.

  “You got guts, you know? When I was your age, I’d never dare talk to my old man like that.”

  “Maybe you didn’t love him enough,” Storm replied.

  Pete blinked at the words. He thought about it for a moment and gave a slow nod of agreement.

  “Well—it’s true he was a guarded man—I suppose. And we never saw much of each other. He was either at work or out with his mates having a drink at the pub. He was hardly ever at home. I guess we never got to know each other. He did teach me how to whistle real good though!”

  “Yeah, he did too,” Storm said, placing his hand on his father's chair.

  “It’s alright, Dad. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

  “You and Summer mean everything to ya mom and me,” Pete said. “I always wanted kids. The day we were told we were never going to have any. It felt like the doctor had kicked me in the guts. The loneliest damned feeling in the world. Stella said nothing, even after we got home from the hospital. She fell into a depression and didn’t talk for days.”

  “When did you both decide…?”

  “It was Stella's idea at first; but as soon as I saw the two of you, a one-year-old girl and a seven-year-old boy, I knew it was right. We wondered why anyone would want to call you Storm, but we soon found out. You blew up like a goddamned hurricane when you thought we were being mean to her. The orphanage told us about some bad things that happened—before you and your sister arrived there.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Storm said glancing away. “I don't remember much about the time before the orphanage.”

  Pete knew his son never forgot anything. Most likely Storm pushed those memories deep down inside; somewhere he thought they’d never surface to bother him. He wanted to put his arm around his son, but he didn’t.

  “Look, I don’t want to ask—” Pete began.

  “You’re my dad, and Stella’s my mom. That’s all that matters now.”

  The man and the boy fell quite for a while until Storm could stand the weight of the silence no longer.

  “Why did you leave Mom when you were laid off at the mine?”

  “I wasn’t doing much good for you three, was I? Just me and a god awful black dog depression chewing away at my gut.” Pete sighed. “I started to push Stella around and I’ve got no excuse for any of it. At the time, it seemed to me the best idea was to move out of the house and sort my life out. I thought you’d do better at being the man around the house.”

  Storm looked down at Champ. “I’m glad you got yourself a different kind of dog to keep you company.”

  “Isn’t he great?” Pete asked with a smile.

  He fondled the soft ears of the pooch and began to feel the tightness in his gut ease.

  “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if I was to drop by over the weekend,” Pete said quietly, and he glanced at Storm. “What d’ya think?”

  “No—I mean yes!” Storm said. He was surprised and pleased at Pete’s sudden change of heart. “That would be cool.”

  “You can tell Stella I’m coming over. I don’t want to phone her. I’m better when I can talk face to face. Yeah, it’s about time I saw how the old girl’s doing.”

  “I’ll tell her you’re coming over, but make sure you turn up, Dad.”

  “I will,” Pete said with a resolute nod. He had made up his min
d.

  “They’ll both be rapt to see you.”

  Pete staggered back when Storm embraced him in a bear hug. The sudden show of intimacy from his son came as a surprise. It had not happened in years, but suddenly nothing seemed more natural or necessary.

  Dropouts

  Stella sat in front of her laptop rubbing her forehead as she read the text on the screen.

  “Hey!” She exclaimed with a frown. “Listen to this, Summer. This report is saying there’s been no global economic recovery since the 2008 stock market crash.”

  “I can’t concentrate on my homework if you keep talking to me,” Summer replied without lifting her head.

  They listened to the sound of Storm’s motorbike crunching gravel as he pushed it down the drive. The squeak and rattle of the machine as it settled on its stand. The hollow thunk as he dropped his helmet on the kitchen floor.

  He stood in the door of the lounge with a look of slight disappointment on his dust-covered face. He had received no reaction from the two at the table.

  “It says here that this recession we are in really a worldwide depression,” Stella said shaking her head. “You know, this means world war three!”

  “Mom!” Summer cried out in exasperation. “You’re such a downer.”

  “Sometimes a war is what it takes to have peace,” Storm chimed in.

  “I don’t believe that for a second and neither should you,” she said, turning to face her son with a scowl. “That’s just utter bullshit if you excuse my French. Anyone with half a brain knows war only results in more war. And pick that helmet up off the floor! Jeez, what’s wrong with you? You’d think I raised you two kids in a barn.”

  “What’s wrong with the bike?” Summer asked him.

  “I ran out of gas a couple of blocks down the road and didn’t have enough money on me to go to the gas station. I had to push it all the way home!”

  “Hard yakka, Storm?” She mimicked in an exaggerated fashion the lazy nasal sound of local laborers.

  “Wait until you do a day’s work in that heat!” He said, staring daggers at his sister.

 

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