The Stars That Beckon

by Kevin J Simington

  “There’s a stalled plane on the main runway!”

  Thinking fast, she jerked the controls quickly to the left and then back to the right a few moments later.

  “Hold on, Doc! We don’t have time for another approach. We’re going off-road! I hope that grass isn’t too boggy.”

  The shuttle touched down heavily on the runway, bounced once and then stuck. Still travelling way too fast, Kit steered it off the runway onto the grass, narrowly missing the stalled passenger airliner. As the speed bled off, she aimed straight for the terminal building, cutting straight across the various taxiways and connecting tarmacs. At the last moment, she swung the shuttle around to face out towards the runways again, then throttled back the main engine to idle. They were a mere 10 metres from a set of stairs leading up to the terminal building above. Opening the cabin door, they both jumped to the ground, a distance of a little over a metre.

  Yelling above the noise of their idling engine, Kit said, “You grab people from the tarmac, and I’ll head inside the terminal. It’s 14:20 now. We launch in exactly seven minutes! Go!”

  There were people standing nearby on the tarmac, airport staff of various kinds. Zac ran over to the nearest group and yelled, “You need to get on board the shuttle now! An asteroid is about to impact Earth! The shockwave will be heading this way in a few minutes!” As he said it, he realised how insane he must sound. He also didn’t exactly look authoritative. He was wearing faded jeans with holes and a Hawaiian shirt, and probably looked like he’d been smoking too much wacky weed. The people on the tarmac just looked at him with bemused expressions.

  “Please! I’m not joking! Either get on board the shuttle and live, or stay here and die, your choice! We’re leaving in five minutes!” Zac looked around and saw some other staff nearer the terminal. He ran towards them, shouting a similar message. As some of the airport staff began to respond and move towards the shuttle, Zac saw a line of civilians hurrying down the stairs from the terminal building. Kit appeared to have had more success than he.

  She briefly appeared at the top of the stairs and yelled, “Move your arses, people. We leave in four minutes! Zac, help them on board!” She turned and disappeared into the terminal building again.

  “Quickly! This way!” said Zac.

  The first civilians began arriving at the shuttle. Zac started helping people on board, lifting children into the arms of parents and shoving the less athletic from behind. Airport staff who had previously dismissed Zac as a lunatic had now joined the line and were climbing on board. The minutes ticked by too quickly, and the shuttle was filling. The last passengers clambered on board as Kit ran up.

  “That’s it,” she said. “We’re out of time. We launch in one minute. How full are we?”

  Zac had clambered aboard the shuttle and gazed down the length of the cabin. “All the seats are taken and there are six people sitting on the floor.”

  “That’s not good,” said Kit. “This bird has a maximum take-off capacity of 50 passengers.” She thought about it for a moment. “OK. I’m not kicking anyone off. But don’t let any more on.” She jumped on board and turned left towards the cockpit. “Secure the door and I’ll get us moving!”

  Zac was just starting to swing the door closed when an ancient yellow bus screeched to a stop metres from him. People jumped out and a woman who looked vaguely familiar ran towards him. “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “There’s an asteroid about to impact,” said Zac. “I’m sorry, we can’t fit anyone else. You need to take whatever cover you can.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Genesis,” he answered, not sure whether she would understand.

  Somehow, she seemed to know what he meant. She turned around and yelled, “Bring Melody! Now!!”

  A man came forward holding the hand of a young girl. “Mummy!” said the girl, running to the woman. “What’s happening? I’m scared.”

  “You’re going for a ride on this plane, and I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “No! Mummy! No! I don’t want to leave you!” The girl wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist. The woman looked up at Zac and pleaded, “Please. Take her.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Zac. “We’re full. We can’t fit anyone else.”

  Kit stuck her head out of the cockpit door and screamed, “Zac! Close that damn door now! We’re out of time! And don’t let anyone else on!”

  The engines rose to a crescendo and Zac started to close the door. The woman untangled her daughter’s arms from around her waist, picked her up and threw her through the half-closed doors. The girl landed on her hands and knees and screamed, “Mummy! Don’t leave me!” The shuttle started rolling forward, and the woman yelled back, “I’ll always love you, remember that!”

  The girl scrambled to her feet and tried to jump out of the door, but Zac held her back as the shuttle quickly picked up speed. Kit’s voice yelled from the open cockpit, “Zac! Close that damn door!!” A woman in a nearby seat came and took the screaming girl from his arms, and Zac closed and bolted the door. He scrambled through to the cockpit and strapped himself into his seat.

  “Glad you could make it,” Kit said, sarcastically. “Hope I didn’t inconvenience you at all.”

  The shuttle was tearing across the grass between tarmacs.

  “We’re way too heavy for a vertical take-off,” said Kit. “We’ll have to do this the same way we landed—the old-fashioned way.”

  As they came to the runway, Kit violently wrenched the shuttle around, lining it up on the remaining runway with the stalled passenger jet now behind them. The shuttle was accelerating explosively, but there was very little runway left. “It feels sluggish,” Kit said. “We’re way too heavy. This is gonna be very close!”

  The end of the runway loomed in front of them. A low-lying fence barred their way, and beyond that was the ocean. “Come on, come on, come on,” muttered Kit, leaning forward in her chair, willing the shuttle to get airborne. At the last possible moment she pulled back on her controls, urging the shuttle up. Grudgingly, the wheels left the tarmac and the shuttle gained a few metres of altitude. As they passed over the barrier there was a thud and a shudder. “I think we just lost a wheel,” said Kit. She retracted the undercarriage and the shuttle started to respond more gracefully. It roared skywards as Kit increased the incline as much as she dared, scrounging every centimetre of altitude she could get.

  “We were two minutes late taking off,” she said. “We’ve got about two and a half minutes to get above the shockwave. Normally we’d make it, but we’re overweight. I think we’re about to get a nasty kick in the arse. You’d better tell the passengers to hang on tight, because the inertial dampeners probably won’t cope.”

  Zac switched on the cabin comm. “Folks, we might be in for a bit of a rough ride in a moment. If you’re in a seat, strap yourself in as tightly as you can. If you don’t have a seat, find somewhere to wedge yourself and hang on tight.” He switched off the comm and they sat in silence, listening to the engine screaming as it hurled them skyward. Time slowed, and Zac felt himself perspiring. He was gripping the arms of his seat tightly and found that he was leaning forward, willing the shuttle upwards.

  The sky began to darken, and Kit said, “We’re out of time, and we’re still a thousand metres too low. We’re about to get slammed, but the air’s pretty thin up here, so we might just make it. Hold on!”

  Nothing happened for a few moments, and then, suddenly, they were slammed back into their seats as they were hit from behind. A burst of blinding light poured through the front screen, and they were shaken violently from side to side. There were screams from the passengers behind, and there was the sound of random items being shaken loose around the cabin. And then, just as suddenly, it was over. Kit stabilised their ascent, and the shuttle emerged into the blackness of space. The stars shone like diamonds, and the side viewing ports in the cockpit framed the curved horizon of the Earth as it steadily shrank beh
ind them.

  Zac gazed out of his side window and saw another huge explosion light up the clouds with a yellow and red glow. A rolling shockwave spread outwards across the surface of the planet with terrifying speed, and a glowing mushroom cloud rose up through the atmosphere, seeming to punch a hole through to the very edge of space itself. A tear rolled down his face as he realised that he would never set foot on Earth again. God help them, he thought. God help us all.

  26

  Things were chaotic after the shuttles returned to Genesis. There were 260 newcomers who were traumatised and grief-stricken. Their lives had been spared, but they now had to come to terms with the fact that a few minutes after they had boarded their shuttles, everyone they knew and loved had almost certainly perished. Many people were overcome with survivor guilt. Most were numb with shock and disbelief.

  In the midst of the chaos in Shuttle Bay 1, an 11-year-old girl was sobbing inconsolably. A middle-aged woman was trying to comfort her, asking what her name was, but the girl remained unresponsive to her questions.

  Zac was doing his best to help wherever he could and noticed the girl who had been thrown onto the shuttle at the last moment by her mother. He could not even begin to imagine the mix of desperate emotions that the mother must have felt, knowing that she would probably never see her daughter again. Zac wished he could do something to ease the girl’s grief, and he knelt down in front of her. He had two nieces of similar ages whom he loved dearly and who loved him in return, and as he looked at the girl, he realised he would never see them again, either. Deep sorrow welled up within him, and tears overflowed his eyes. The girl saw his tears and for some reason reached out to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against him and sobbed, saying over and over, “I want my mummy. I want my mummy.”

  Zac said, “I know you do, sweetie. She’s gone. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  As he said this, something broke within him and he began to sob. At first, he tried to hold it in, but his sorrow rose up like a tide and swept him away. He cried for love lost, for the billions of innocent lives blotted out in an instant, and for the senseless evil that had caused it all. For minutes, the grown man on his knees and the little girl hugged each other and cried, sharing a bond of grief, and, somehow, drawing comfort from each other. Finally, Zac’s tears stopped flowing, and the tide of sorrow receded, leaving him feeling cleansed and whole. He used the hem of his Hawaiian shirt to dry the girl’s eyes, as her sobs gradually subsided.

  “I suppose we should introduce ourselves,” Zac said, attempting a smile. “My name is Zac Perryman. What’s yours?”

  “Melody.”

  “What’s your last name, Melody?”

  “Canning.”

  A light bulb lit up in Zac’s brain. He suddenly knew why he had recognised Melody’s mother.

  “Your mother is Elizabeth?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she answered in a subdued voice.

  “The president?”

  She nodded.

  “OK,” he said, his mind reeling. “We’re going to look after you now.” He stood up. What do I do now? he thought to himself, looking around for help. The woman who had attempted to comfort Melody had disappeared. As he stood looking around, he felt Melody slip her hand into his. He looked down at her and saw that she was looking up at him, to see if it was OK. He smiled at her and gave her hand a squeeze. Come on, think! What do I do with an 11-year-old orphan?

  “Are you two OK?” asked a friendly voice.

  Zac turned towards the voice and saw a young woman in a white lab coat with a med kit in her hand.

  “I’m Jaz. I work in the med bay. Are either of you injured in any way?”

  Zac found himself staring into her bright green eyes. “Um ... er ... no ...” he said vaguely. Then he snapped out of his stupor. “But Melody, here, could use another friend. She’s by herself.” He raised his eyebrows in what he hoped Jaz would recognise as a plea for help, rather than a strange leer.

  Jaz knelt down beside Melody. “Is that right? Well, I am in need of a friend as well, because I’m all alone, too. I was just about to head up to the dining room to get something to eat. Do you want to come?”

  Melody shook her head. “I want to stay with Zac,” she said, squeezing his hand harder and stepping closer to him.

  “Well he could come, too. What do you say, Zac?”

  “Sure. Let’s all go together.”

  A few moments later, they stepped out of the lift into the expansive dining room. They made their way to a dispenser and selected some kind of sweet biscuits. Zac and Jaz grabbed a cup of tea and Melody got a flavoured soy drink. They made their way to a large, unoccupied table at the back of the room. Jaz was chatting to Melody continually, and the girl had thawed remarkably quickly. She and Jaz were already laughing at silly jokes and sharing stories. Zac breathed a sigh of relief. He looked around the dining room as it began to fill up. A meeting had been scheduled shortly to induct the newcomers and sort out living arrangements.

  “Hey Doc, what’s happening?” said Kit, as she and Martinez plonked themselves into empty chairs next to him. Martinez had co-piloted one of the other shuttles.

  “Not much,” said Zac.

  “Who’s the little chickadee?” asked Martinez, indicating the girl.

  Zac leaned closer and whispered, “Melody Canning. The president’s daughter.”

  “Where’s the president?” asked Martinez.

  “She didn’t make it,” responded Zac. “Melody is alone here.”

  “That’s a rough deal for the kid,” said Martinez.

  “Looks like she’s found a friend,” said Kit, indicating Jaz, who was currently having a secret whispered into her ear.

  Just then a mountain on two legs loomed up beside Zac and slapped him on the back.

  “Hey bro! How ya doin’?”

  Zac craned his neck around and looked up into a beaming, dark brown face. The guy was at least 190 cm tall and built like a tank—not fat, just solid muscle.

  “Um ...” he said with his usual alacrity. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

  “You do now!” beamed the Islander. “We’re from the same home, bro!” he said, indicating Zac’s Hawaiian shirt.

  “Oh, my shirt? Actually, no, I’m not Hawaiian. I’m from Sydney, Australia. I just like Hawaiian shirts.”

  “Australia, eh? OK, that’s almost as good. Tell me, my friend, do you surf?”

  “Yeh. Or I used to.”

  “Long board or short?”

  “Long. Nine foot.”

  “Good, bro! Good! You are respecting the ocean. Short boards dishonour her. They cut and carve. On a long board you are in tune with the rhythm of the ocean. I think we’re going to be good friends! What is your name, bro?”

  “Zac.”

  The big man reached out his hand. “My name is Keolakupaianaha Ka’aukai,” he said, shaking Zac’s hand. Zac found his hand engulfed in a hand the size of a dinner plate.

  “You wanna run that name past us again, dude?” said Martinez.

  “Keolakupaianaha Ka’aukai,” he repeated. “Keolakupaianaha is a traditional Islander name, meaning ‘an extraordinary, wonderful life’, and Ka’aukai means ‘the traveller’.”

  “Well, that second meaning is about to come true for you in bucket loads,” said Kit. “Let’s hope the first one does as well.”

  “Amen, sister. Amen!” said the big Hawaiian. “Do you mind if I sit alongside my brother?” he asked, indicating Zac.

  “No. Please be our ...” She never got a chance to say ‘guest’ because he reached down and lifted her and her chair up and over Martinez and placed her gently down on the other side.

  “Thank you, little sister,” he said, dragging a chair from nearby and sitting in the newly vacated space.

  “So, Keola … kup … er ... Keolakupa … um ...” Zac mumbled. “How do you say it again?”

  “Don’t worry, bro. My friends call me Keo.”

  “OK
. Keo. Where are you from exactly?”

  “My people are from Waimanalo Bay, Oahu, originally. But we have lived in Ahipara, on the North Island of New Zealand, for three generations. The surf is good there, man!”

  “So how did you come to be on board Genesis?” Kit asked.

  “I came to Wellington for a rugby match. I was about to fly home when the world went crazy. I came here on Zac’s shuttle,” he said, patting Zac on the back again. “When I saw his shirt, I knew it was a sign.”

  “You were on board my shuttle?” said Kit. “No wonder we had trouble taking off!”

  “My soul is light,” he replied. “It is the soul that matters, not the body.” He looked around the table. “A soul that is filled with faith and love is light. A soul that is filled with hate and bitterness is heavy.”

  “Speak of the devil,” said Martinez, as Wisecroft’s face appeared on the screens. “Here’s Doctor Evil himself.”

  27

  The first part of Wisecroft’s latest address was primarily directed to the newcomers who had been rescued by the shuttles, summarising all that had happened and introducing them to the Genesis mission. In the process, he confirmed the catastrophic disaster that had befallen Earth. The final impact of the asteroid had been even worse than expected. A wave of destruction had swept around the globe at over 40,000 kilometres per hour, devouring everything in its path. The Earth had been laid bare, and it was difficult to imagine any living organism bigger than a microbe surviving. The planet was now a barren, radioactive wasteland, facing a life-prohibiting winter that might last for centuries. They simply could not consider going back there. Despite the enormity of loss that everyone on board was experiencing, there was little in the way of compassion or empathy in Wisecroft’s manner; just cold, hard facts.