by Gary Martin
It’s been nearly a month since I woke from my coma and everything is falling into a nice rhythm. Well, a sleepless rhythm. It turns out raising a small baby is very hard work. Kind of rewarding but mostly disgusting. It seems to mainly consist of cleaning up sick and shit. Flick has risen to the occasion and is a brilliant step-mother but any plans for more children have gone out the window. We have to take it in shifts to look after him because of our work. I’m surprised she hasn’t run away. But she is genuinely great.
The time we do get together, we tend to sit in the rec deck, staring out of one of the aft-facing rectangular viewports, drinking beer or the home grown equivalent. Tonight, we have Warren with us because Jack is busy dealing with engine troubles on one of the smaller ships and couldn’t babysit.
Through the viewport you can see about half of the Utopian project. It’s a crazy sight. I look at Flick, her beautiful flickering red eyes staring out at the universe, and to my son, and smile contentedly. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good. It could be the tiredness, but I don’t think so.
The world as I knew it is gone forever. I miss a lot of things about it and a lot of people. Especially Jacob and Terrell. I will never have friends like those again. I’m forever in their debt. They always had my back, and I always had theirs. I loved them deeply.
Ez. I wish I could have made up for leaving her like that. But, at the time, I didn’t think that the world would end. I thought I’d get back to Earth and try to fix everything with our relationship. But it wasn’t to be. I will do everything to make sure our son grows up happy and knows who you were.
After everything that’s happened, I never thought I’d have anything close to a happy ending. If this is how and where I’m going to live the rest of my life, and I’m content, what more could I ask for?
39
I pat down the dirt and stand back to look at my work. I smile, really pleased with myself.
“It’ll fall over,” Greg says, in his usual, overly critical way.
“No, it won’t. This time it’s definitely deep enough. It’ll be fine,” I reply, annoyed that he keeps bursting my bubble. It has to be said he knows his stuff, probably because he’s been with the Utopia project from the start. It’s still annoying.
“I do hope, for your sake, it stays up. A third time would be very embarrassing,” Greg says and walks back to the far side of the garden.
It’s only a metre tall, but soon it’ll be the Utopia project’s first apple tree. One of Sunspot One’s crew had it in a small pot in her quarters. It had only just occurred to her that if she planted it in the garden it would actually grow. It’s a good feeling knowing that everything I’m doing is for the benefit of not only us but future generations.
The ground beneath my feet vibrates and the leaves on the apple tree rustle. I stand up straight and look around, wondering what caused it. Other people in the garden do the same but quickly go back to their work. The ground vibrates again and my tree falls over. I’m really not very good at this. I can hear Greg laughing in the distance. I don’t turn around. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
Again, the ground vibrates, but more forcefully this time, followed by a loud metal grinding on metal sound. A sound that, after years of dumping all of the Earth’s rubbish in the sun’s corona, I’m very familiar with. The giant pneumatic ram at the back of the hangar that pushes all the waste filled cubes out into space has been activated. I stare in horror as it starts to move forward, ripping through the fertile ground, and turning it into a rumbling solid tidal wave.
“Run!” I shout but everyone already has that idea. The stairwell closest to me has already been blocked, and the only other one is at the front of the hangar. I run like I’ve never ran before. At the speed the ram is going there isn’t much chance I’ll make it, but I push through the pain starting to flow in my chest like acid. I now have so much to live for and I don’t want it to end like this. The ground under my feet shakes violently, but the open door to the stairwell is now within reach. I feel large chunks of dirt hit my back, almost knocking me off my feet. To the left of me, at quite a distance, I see someone running, obviously heading for the same place as me. There’s no way they’re going to make it and nothing I can do to help them. I run in to the stairwell door and turn around, panting.
“Come on Greg, run faster!” I shout. Greg seems to put more effort in and I think he may have a chance. He gets to the door as the mud tidal wave hits, he jumps in vain hope and I grab his hands. An explosion of dirt throws me backwards onto the bottom steps and everything goes quiet. The dust and dirt settles, and I stare over the top of the mound filling the bottom of the stairwell and out of the door. The metal ram slowly moves back the way it came, its job now done. I stand up and realise I’m still gripping something tightly. Greg’s severed hands. He was a bit of a dick but he didn’t deserve that. I drop them to the deck, and climb over the mound of mud and back into the hangar. The garden is gone. All that is left of it are dirt tracks the ram was unable to expel. I feel sick. The gravity of the situation hasn’t hit me. I look out of the giant space door. Through the force field, what’s left of the garden is slowly expanding in a mess of dirt, plants and bodies.
I fall to my knees, my mind full of despair. Then, suddenly, I feel a perfect clarity.
Flick. I need to know she’s okay.
I stand up quickly and run back to the stairwell. I take the stairs two steps at a time, run as fast as I can along the metal gangway, barging past other survivors, and get back into the main part of the ship.
The rec deck is chaos. Everyone is terrified. I don’t care. I need to make sure Flick and Warren are safe. I make my way through the panicked crowd, up the ladder and to my quarters. I open the door and Flick is holding a crying Warren, trying to get him back to sleep. I walk over and hug them.
“I wish they’d shut up. Warren was sound asleep. Now I can’t get him to settle. What’s going on?” she asks.
“The garden, it’s gone,” I say.
“What do you mean it’s gone?”
“Pushed out into space by the ram. I don’t know what’s happened. I’ve got to go to the bridge. Stay here and lock the door,” I say.
40
The bridge is on red alert. Matt Jelvus is pacing up and down and looking fraught.
“Thank god you’re okay,” he says as he sees me.
“Do you know what’s happened?” I ask.
“Not yet. We’re thinking maybe a malfunction. But we don’t have all the facts yet.”
“I’ve worked on a ship identical to this one. The pneumatic ram doesn’t just move by itself. It has lots of fail safes. Someone has to have been controlling it,” I say.
“You mean someone did this on purpose? I find that hard to believe,” Matt says, shaking his head.
“I’m just telling you what I know. One of the ships you picked up may well have had someone who works for Skylark on board.”
He stares at me for a second.
“Maybe. What we need to do is find out who was the last person in the thruster room, at the pneumatic ram controls,” he says.
An alarm starts buzzing.
“What’s that?” I ask.
Matt swiftly moves over to the station the alarm is coming from and quietly speaks to the woman sat there.
“It’s the sensor buoys either side of the Moon. Something’s coming.”
“Something is already here,” I say as a huge ship begins to fill the forward viewport.
Matt turns around and mutters something under his breath.
“The captain of the QE7 would like to speak to whoever is in charge,” the person sat at the communications console says to Matt.
“Put them on screen then,” Matt says.
A screen slowly lowers down from the ceiling. Sunspot Two never had one of those.
“John, go behind the screen. I don’t want them seeing any of the crew.”
I move to the front of the bridge, and look out at
the perfect lines of the QE7. She is truly a beautiful vessel. Unfortunately, the long sleek lines are broken up by ugly rectangular bulks that run along the length of the ship. They start moving, and the tubes on the edges of them start pointing at us. I realise quite quickly that they’re weapons banks. Hastily added with no care as to whether they ruined the sleek lines or not.
“They’re pointing their weapons at …” I start to say but am broken off by a voice on the screen.
“What you have done is an act of war,” the voice says.
“Act of war? We’re living here peacefully. I’m not sure what you’re talking about. We have no weapons here. Speaking of which, why does a civilian vessel need to be so well armed?” Matt says.
“Since you destroyed the Zeus. Thousands of innocent lives were lost. We tracked the only escape pod to this place.”
“I heard about the Zeus, and I’m sorry. But it had nothing to do with the Utopia project.”
“I don’t believe you. If you aren’t guilty, then why did the pod come straight to you?”
Matt stares at the screen and stays silent.
“I’ll make a deal with you. If you hand over whoever was in the escape pod, we won’t destroy this place.”
“I don’t believe you would. We’re all in the same situation. Fighting to survive. We have no issue with Skylark. They may not like our way of life, but we pose no threat. As far as I’m concerned, you started this by turning on the pneumatic ram destroying our garden, killing at least twenty of our people.”
“We did. As proof to you that we could destroy you without firing a shot. But where’s the fun in that? I will destroy your ships one by one unless you hand over the crew of the escape pod,” the voice says, defiantly.
“You don’t sound sure of yourself. Are you sure you’re in command? Why don’t you just leave here and say you never found us?” Matt says.
Why is he being so reckless? Does he want us to be blown up?
“I’ve had enough of this. Gunner, take out the outermost ship.”
Oh shit. The whole Utopia project is about to be destroyed because me, Flick, Robert, Jack and Warren escaped and accidentally blew up the Zeus. I can’t let that happen.
“No! I was in the pod,” I shout and run from behind the screen to give myself up.
The man on the screen smiles.
“I’m glad someone in your utopia has some sense. Who else was with you?” he says.
“No one. I escaped the Zeus alone. I didn’t destroy it,” I say.
“We’ll determine that when you come across to us. You have twenty minutes or we will start firing.” With that, the screen goes dead.
Blood drains from my face as I realise what I’ve done. On the one hand, I may have saved the Utopia Project but, on the other, unless I can get them to believe me, I’m going to die horribly.
“I can’t believe you did that. Thank you,” Matt says. I’m annoyed that he didn’t say “you can’t do that, there’s got to be another way.” But he just accepted it.
Matt looks at the guy sitting at the communications console. “He’ll be going in the pod he came in on. Code purple,” he says. The communications guy then says something into the mic I can’t make out.
“You have five minutes to say your goodbyes.”
“I can’t. Flick would insist on coming with me. Better she knows after I’ve gone,” I say, with a heavy heart.
“What about your other friends?” he asks.
“They’ll say the same as Flick. Best not give them the option. Better it’s just me. They all have skills you need. I’m just dead weight.”
He doesn’t reply to that, which hurts.
“Let’s get you to your pod then.”
41
As I get through the doors of the cargo bay, I see a man in black clothes getting out of the pock marked pod. He walks up to me and shakes my hand. The scar on the left side of his face makes me feel uneasy, but I have no idea who he is or what he’s been through. I shake his hand limply.
“Everything is ready. Thank you for doing this, you will be remembered as a hero,” he says.
“To be fair, I’m hoping to talk my way out of it,” I reply, knowing that I’ve never talked my way out of anything. He raises an eyebrow and looks confused for a second.
“You don’t need to know how to fly this thing, once you push the lever to engage, it’ll be on auto-pilot,” he says.
“That’s nice.”
“Good luck. There’s not much time until they start firing.”
I climb up the small ladder to the pod. At the threshold I take a final look back at the cargo bay. The man in black exits the room, shuts the cargo bay doors behind him and I’m alone. What the fuck am I doing? I’m about to kill myself. On purpose. If I hadn’t spoken up, I’d be dead, and so would everyone else. If I do this, only I’m going to be dead. I’m in a no-win scenario. I start to wonder if Robert would have done the same if he was on the bridge instead of me. He used to be an awful person. That’s unfair. Everyone seemed to get on with him except for me. He probably didn’t have any respect for me, back when everything was fine, as I was a truly shit shift manager. I think he would have put himself first and done what I’m in danger of running away from.
I close the hatch behind me and look into the passenger compartment. My dried blood is still on the deck. I close my eyes for a second. I don’t want to sit in the pilot’s chair. If I do, this is actually going to happen.
A quiet tinny voice snaps me out of my flutter. I pick up the headphones resting on the console and begrudgingly sit down in the pilot’s seat.
“John, there’s no time. You have to go now,” Matt says through the earpiece, with a hint of anger in his voice.
“Fuck off, Matt. I’ve never been sent knowingly to my death before,” I say, suddenly furious at him.
“Sorry. But this was your idea.”
The space doors open up in front of me and I blankly stare at the engage lever.
“Now, John,” he shouts.
“If I somehow get out of this, I’m going to seriously consider punching you in the balls,” I shout back and push the lever forward.
No sooner than I’ve left the relative safety of Sunspot One, the QE7 fires one of its grapplers at the pod, and I’m being pulled into one of its many small landing bays.
The pod lands hard and its skids screech as they slide across the deck of the landing bay. With a lurch, it comes to a halt.
I look out of the view screen at the dark blue and gold landing bay. This ship really was for the rich and powerful, even where they parked looks posh.
A rectangular door at the far end opens and a man with a dark grey Skylark uniform walks through, flanked by four guards. If I lock the doors and refuse to leave, what will they do then? Probably cut the door open and rip me out with violent force. I decide to accept the inevitable and leave the pod of my own free will.
Just as I open the hatch, I hear a calm woman’s voice start counting down from the cockpit. I go back and look at the main console’s monitor. On the screen are numbers counting back from two hundred. Why would the pod start a random countdown? Oh no. Matt, you fucking bastard. I’ve come here to basically sacrifice myself so that thousands can live, but Matt Jelvus has made the decision to blow up the pod, and destroy the QE7. The glimmer of hope that I may somehow get out of this alive is gone. What do I do? Sit here and let the thing blow up? I’m no suicide bomber. Fuck that. I’ve got enough blood on my hands. But if I warn them, they will definitely destroy the Utopia project and with it the only reason I’m doing this. Flick and Warren.
I lock the hatch and slump back in the pilot’s seat, watching with bitter resignation as the five people approach the pod.
The rectangular door opens again, and another four guards walk through, followed by a civilian female. This is a passenger ship. Skylark may have soldiers on it but it’s full of innocent people. I cover my eyes hoping it’s all a dream but knowing it’s not. I start to
cry.
The countdown gets to a hundred, and I decide I have to look the civilian girl in the eyes. I don’t know why, maybe she’ll give me absolution for what’s about to happen, maybe she’ll clearly be evil and I won’t feel so bad. I don’t know what I’m thinking. I have ninety seconds left to live and I want a reason to stop this madness. It’s too late. The decision has been made for me. Matt knew that when I offered to come here, he had a chance to save his dream by sacrificing just one of his own. I would be stuck with an impossible decision. The thousands on the QE7 were of no consequence to him. He was happy that the Zeus had been destroyed because suddenly there was less of a threat. But taking out the QE7 on a whim feels different, like someone who has lost their mind and gone mad with power. Maybe leaders need to make hard decisions like this, but not leaders of a utopia. They’re supposed to be better than that.
I wipe my eyes and look once again out of the view screen. The civilian girl is staring right at me with her blue eyes. No absolution but definitely not evil.
I quickly unlock the hatch and jump out onto the deck.
“Run! It’s going to blow!” I shout.
Everyone turns and runs for the exit and I follow, but I’ve left it too late. I hear a subdued bang behind me, knowing that it’s the beginning of the end. In the circumstances, it’s the best I could have hoped for. I tried to save everyone at the last second, but it was too late. That sort of eases my conscience.
I stop running when I realise there hasn’t been another explosion. I turn around to see the pod in flames. The cockpit then falls off and rolls pathetically on the deck.
“You would have been killed if you’d stayed in there any longer,” a very familiar voice whispers in my ear.
“Hi, Ez,” I say.
42
All eight guards are now surrounding me and pointing their weapons at my head.
“Ma’am, you need to stand out of the way so we can dispose of this vermin,” the grey suited officer says.