Occupation

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Occupation Page 3

by Dave Lacey


  “Okay, take it easy,” Jes said, gesturing with his palms facing down for Millie to relax. “I agree, but I also don’t think doing it on a whim, a spur of the moment one night, is the way to go either. I agree with your boyfriend.” He gave a little smile, his attempt to mollify. It didn’t work.

  Millie thrust out a hand, its finger pointing at Jes’s face. “Don’t agree with him. He annoys me so much.” She was breathing hard, eyes bulging. “It’s just sitting there, waiting for us to help ourselves. And I, for one, would rest easier if fewer teams had to go out each and every night, scratching around in the wreckage for food and kit.” She looked at her brother from the corner of her eye as she made her statement. He knew what she was saying, and he was touched.

  “I agree, sis, but we have to do it properly. Toby was right to say no, surely you can see that?” Before she had a chance to speak, he continued. “But, if we sit down and plan it right, take our time, we can do it.” Millie had her hands on her hips now, and was breathing easier. Jes blew out the breath he’d been holding, relieved he’d made his point. “Have you seen Mum and Dad today?” The change of subject had its desired effect, disarming her in an instant. They chatted for another ten minutes about nothing in particular, then Millie left to confront Toby.

  Jes tried to get some sleep, but it was no use. His mind was too full of thoughts, and his body still awash with adrenaline. He got to his feet and walked through the passageway to the Hub. It was quieter now; at least some people could sleep. He sat on one of the makeshift benches carved from compacted earth and leaned back.

  Closing his eyes, he thought about Millie’s words. A cache like that would be incredible for the community. Beyond comprehension, almost. And they really could sit back for a little while and relax. Well, relax as much as you could when under occupation. There were times when he genuinely thought he had never been happier than since they had moved to the tunnels. Was that mad? Maybe it was, but it was true. There were no money worries, no stresses and strains about neighbours or ASBOs. Pretty much everyone was united in a common cause. Survival. Well, survival and victory, if that were possible. He got to his feet and made his way towards the back of the Hub.

  Eventually, his tired feet led him to Annabel. She looked after the laundry duties for the community. When all else failed, he turned to her. Or rather, her hideaway.

  “Hello, stranger,” she said, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, one hand on her hip, a knowing expression on her face. “Long time no see.” Jes held out his hands in apology and hung his head.

  “I know, I know. And it’s no use me bullshitting you is it, you know exactly what I need?” He looked up at her through his long eyelashes and gave her the blinking ‘love me’ look he’d given his mother for the last thirty odd years. She laughed and jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

  “Go on, and don’t use that look on me again.” She smacked him on the backside as he passed. He trudged along the passageway, feeling the tiredness taking him over already. This was what he needed, though he was ashamed to admit it. If they still had them, he would have been fascinated to know what a psychiatrist would have made of his secret vice. But he thought he already knew. At the end was the room he wanted. He closed his eyes and paused. Then he placed a hand on the door and pushed it open.

  It was the laundry drying room. There were piles of clean washing strewn about the floor and heaped over the community heating system. The heating system was geothermal; many of the communities had such systems. It was a theory that had been posited fifteen years before, as a possible answer to global warming. With every seventy feet you drill through the earth, the temperature increases by one degree Fahrenheit. It was clever, and it worked. It provided everything they needed. It heated air and water, and was converted into electricity too. But right now, it filled a need within Jes that went back to his childhood.

  He found a niche near the back and curled up there to sleep. And sleep came quickly.

  Chapter 5

  Commander Veerhan stared at the monitors laid out before him. All was well. Actually, strike that, everything was running as it should be. He liked this time of... well, night. It was hard to tell when it was day or night in this place. The Command Centre was an impressive sight. Sleek and ultra modern, with large picture windows looking out over the luminous grey rock and black starry sky. The Moon. His finger tapped at the console. His lips were pursed as his thoughts quieted to virtually nothing.

  He was almost in a trance. Yes, this was a good shift to pull. It gave one time to think, to consider. Though he had to confess, there was little to consider. He broke his hypnotic state with a deep contented breath, as though he had not breathed in minutes. He looked far out over the complex, his eyes seeking out the engineering sector. There, the lights blazed twenty-four seven, and clouds of whatever by-products they produced vented at regular moments. They worked tirelessly.

  That gave him a crumb of comfort. That people were working hard, striving for better. The thought that they were building something, something that might help them retake Earth. His finger tapped at the console, metronomic, like a subtle alarm. He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking and crackling as he did so. Was it really essential to bring leather chairs with us to this place? Maybe not, but they were comfortable. He leaned his chin on the fingers of his right hand, and was about to bring up a view of the pressure systems when Carter burst onto the bridge.

  “Sir, we have a new message from the British, sir.” He strode to where Lech was sitting, waving a flimsy piece of paper at him.

  “Carter, for the last time, please control your emotions.” Lech Veerhan gave Carter a stern look. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes popping a little, his excitement evident. It was not, Lech imagined, that anything important or interesting had happened. The problem was that when anything happened it was out of the ordinary, and caused at least a little consternation. “What is this earth shattering...” Lech winced at his own indelicacy. “What is it?” he asked.

  “Sir.” Carter handed him the flimsy. Lech read it out loud.

  “Still no word from the north. Stop. We have ceased night sorties for now. Stop. Enemy has ramped up its patrols. Stop. Taking many casualties now as a result. Stop. Hence the reduction in frequency. Stop. Will update further next week. Stop. Any news on possible assault from your side? Stop. Out.” Lech Veerhan closed his eyes for a second and put down the flimsy. When he opened his eyes, Carter was looking at him, his face betraying his nervousness. Carter swallowed hard.

  “Tell the other section chiefs we need to convene later, say eleven p.m. That is all for now, Carter.” The boy turned and left the bridge. Lech sagged back heavily in his chair. He would love to be able to tell the British that they were coming. He would love to be able to tell them the cavalry was on its way, and that together they would take back the Earth. But that just wasn’t possible. Not yet. And they would need something more than they already had.

  Conventional weapons would not be sufficient. They had tried, four years ago. A warship had left the Moon and travelled to Earth, laden with heavy artillery. It had breached Earth’s atmosphere, and eleven minutes later they had lost contact with it. They had never heard from its crew again. The decision had been made then that they would wait until they had something concrete, something they knew would give them the edge. For the moment, that something remained out of reach.

  Lech felt lethargic. They had to have a weakness, they had to. And when, if, they discovered it, that would be the time to strike. Weaponize it. Strike like the hammer of the gods.

  Communication with the Earth and its current resistance movement was conducted via the laser sites in France and the UK. There was a site in North America, though they had never received a response nor any indication that it even remained operational. Lech was positive that if it were serviceable the Americans would have used it by now. The lasers were officially there as a means of measuring the Moon’s distance from the Earth. That had b
een the official line. But in truth they were a means of communicating with the Moon’s new tenants, and vice versa.

  So far, it had worked beautifully. The Auslander had never rumbled them, and comms remained open. Lech was distracted again by the heavy rumble from the engineering sector, and the sudden change in illumination. He guessed that they were testing the new rocket system. This latest advance was vital in the next assault they made on the Earth. It was said that the newly designed and developed rockets were three times as powerful and seventy per cent more efficient than the old rockets, the ones that had brought them here. Lech wondered what use they would be if they never designed a weapon to match those belonging to the ‘Landers.

  As Lech sat and considered this, marvelling at the sheer sound and power of the new rocket, the sound and rumble increased at least twice fold. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood up, and his eyes flew wide. He had never heard anything like it before. Yet it increased still further. Incredible.

  Chapter 6

  Jes woke when the heavy metal door to the laundry room was cranked open. The laundry workers had arrived to begin the day’s work. They all knew him well, knew he slept here often, and so helloed him as he got to his feet and traipsed out of the room. He felt a little groggy, but rested. He had slept well in the end, and felt a little more human. As he reached the Hub, he took a seat near the centre to allow his head to clear.

  He looked up at the space and marvelled again at the ingenuity and resilience of mankind. His mouth felt furry; he needed to clean his teeth. There were areas of compacted earth – they were a hundred and fifty feet below the surface here. There were also areas of concrete, where the space had been reinforced for this very purpose – to house a pod of survivors. The atrium, if you could call it that, rose forty feet above them, giving the Hub a feeling of space. Around the centre were strung the various services people were able to use: laundry collection and drop off, food, medical and provisions. Provisions consisted of non-perishable items such as clothing and blankets, or even electrical devices.

  They had geothermal power. Members of the community were assigned an electrical allowance, to use as they wished. The Hub was a living and breathing thing. Sometimes it was bad tempered, and sometimes it was belligerent, but most of the time it was good natured and nurturing. Jes could sit here for an age, just watching and taking it all in. When they lived above ground, he hardly ever interacted with his fellow man. Nor had he thought too kindly of them.

  Things had changed when they moved below ground. Mostly, people were just better. The things that made them impatient, angry, bitter and mean above ground ceased to exist when they were forced to work together to survive. And when you took away that fuel, people changed. They had once more embraced the concept of community, and become a more tolerant society. Jes was under no illusions, it was no Utopia, but it was certainly very different.

  Tunnels ran from the Hub in a dozen or more different directions. One, of course, was the one that led to the surface. The others ran off like the spokes of a wheel, feeding the dormitories and work areas. One of the tunnels led nowhere. It ended about a half a mile from where he sat, and was purely exploratory. A team walked down it every day and continued to excavate it. There was no real reason. It was simply man being man. What’s on the other side? I need to find out. That was the thing with man, there was always something to explore.

  But it was good. They might come across another community. They could come across supplies. But if they didn’t, it was no great loss. Sometimes people just needed something to do. And digging out a tunnel when you lived underground was about as good a thing to do as any. Jes was staring at the mouth of that particular tunnel when somebody sat next to him and gave him a dig in the ribs.

  “Morning, sugar tits, sleep well?”

  Jes smiled at his friend’s greeting. “Good morning. Yes thanks, I did. And how about you, did you sleep well?” Toby grumbled beside him, noncommittal on the subject of his sleep. Jes chuckled.

  “Your sister’s a nightmare. An absolute frigging nightmare.” Toby sighed. He adopted a nasal, high pitched voice as he imitated Millie’s angry tone. “You’re not sleeping in here, you can sleep somewhere else. I don’t care where. I don’t care if something bad does happen to you!”

  Jes looked over Toby’s shoulder. “Morning, Millie,” he said. Toby jumped and spun round in panic. There was nobody there.

  “You knob,” Toby said. His face creased into a look of disdain.

  “Oh come on, that was funny. And you brought this whole thing on yourself.” Jes managed to look smug as his friend tried to stare him down.

  “Whatever. What are we going to do today?” Toby asked, his fatigue evident as he puffed out his cheeks.

  “Good question. How about trying to find this mythical alternative way out that the kids have been using?” Jack said. It was mythical, because they hadn’t found it yet.

  “That sounds promising. I really can’t be arsed sitting round here. And, I will do anything to avoid being bollocked by your mental sister all day,” Toby said, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

  “Fair enough. Let’s get something to eat, then we’ll clear off.” The two men rose and moved to the food station. They wolfed down their porridge with syrup, coffee and a lump of bread made from something other than wheat, before heading back to their quarters to pick up some essentials. Jes grabbed a thick padded jacket, his walking boots, a backpack and his old, battered Beretta pistol. As he stowed it away in his pack, Junior came running in.

  “You going out again, Dad?” His face was flushed and he had smudges of dirt on his forehead and left cheek. There was also dirt under his fingernails and on his hands.

  “I am. What have you been doing? You’re filthy,” Jes muttered. He knew he needed to spend more time with his son. He covered his guilt with a deep scowl.

  “I’ve been helping Granddad and the others. We’ve been digging out the new tunnel, and later we’re going to make a start on the repairs to the geo system!” Jes’s scowl evaporated under the heat of his son’s excitement, though he was slightly alarmed by the jobs his father was taking Junior on.

  “Really? The heating system and the tunnel? Do you think it’s possible your grandfather could put you in any more danger if he tried?” He had turned to face his son as he put his hands on his hips to regard him. “I think you’d be far safer hanging out with your grandmother,” Jes said, arching one eyebrow. His son pulled a disgusted face and took a half step backwards.

  “Eurgh, no. I’m not sitting with the women and knitting, or whatever they do. I wanna go with Granddad.” The last part was a little wheedling, and he pulled the same look on Jes as Jes had pulled on Annabel in the laundry room the night before. He laughed and ran a hand through Junior’s scruffy hair.

  “You need a haircut, sunshine. Go on then, but be careful.” He emphasized the last two words, and Junior hugged him before tearing off again. Jes watched his son’s unruly mop as it waved from side to side like a small wheat field before disappearing around a bend in the tunnel. Jes grabbed his gear and walked back to the Hub.

  “You set?” Toby asked him.

  “Sure am. Is my little sister joining us?” Jes asked, a twinkle in his eye. He already knew the answer. But laughed when it came anyway.

  “Get fucked,” Toby said emphatically before marching for the far end of the branch system of tunnels.

  After an hour, they had gone halfway down the length of the first of the tunnels they had decided to try. There was little sound out here, mainly surface clutter. They heard the occasional whump of an explosion and the rat a-tat of an automatic weapon. The distance and sheer tonnage of dirt separating them from those sounds gave the surface sounds a strangely comforting quality. Jes and Toby were lucky in the sense that, for the last three months, there had been little rain, and so the water table was weak. The tunnel, as a result, was pretty dry.

  With the percussive thumps from above came brief
showers of loose earth and the occasional earthworm. The tunnels themselves were dark and eerie places. Without LED lamps and backups, they would have been impossible to navigate. The tunnel workers were in the process of stringing lines of LED bulbs along them. The one good thing about the relatively small numbers in the community was that their power supply was damn near inexhaustible.

  “You know this is a giant waste of time,” Toby muttered darkly.

  “Yes I know,” Jes answered. “But it has to be done. We can’t lose any more kids.” He scanned the compacted walls looking for any subtle branches off the main route. He ran his fingers over the surface absently, feeling the surprising smoothness and warmth of the earth.

  “You finished humping the wall over there?” Toby’s voice came from behind Jes. Jes closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

  “I was thinking... you should try it every once in a while.” Jes paused before turning his head to look at his friend. “Of how shitty I would feel if it were my son who had gone missing. And thus, how much we need to nail this thing closed.”

  “Oh,” came the little voice from behind him. “I agree.” Jes had to stifle a laugh at his friend’s faux pas.

  “Good, let’s move on then.” He smiled and walked on. They moved in silence for another couple of minutes before Toby spoke again.

  “How many have been checked already?” he asked. He was talking about the tunnels.

  “Three. Which means there are another eight to do after this one. Problem is, this one is six miles long. And the others are even longer. And we have to do three sweeps of each. So we’ll be lucky to get through this one today.” He paused as he felt a draft of air on his face. He stopped. “And that’s not even getting into the smaller tunnels which some of the women have been covering.” He tilted his head back, his tongue out, sweeping his gaze to left and right trying to pick up the air movement again.

 

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