Earth and Fire (9 page)

I spent a restless night, my dreams
full of crashing planes and crowds of people pointing at me and laughing. When
I woke up, I still didn’t know what I was going to do. Breakfast went by in a
blur, and then I had to spend the morning suffering Compulsory Core classes at
school.

Once you were 16,
you had to spend one morning a week on each of Social Responsibility and
Compulsory Core, and the rest of your time in specialist classes. Social
Responsibility was dominated by Hospital Earth’s attempts to persuade as many
of us as possible to go into childcare careers, while Compulsory Core was a cross-sector
legal requirement in every school on every world of humanity.

Compulsory Core
had the officially stated aim of promoting understanding, mutual respect, and
unity across the sectors. I’ve no idea how well it achieved its hopelessly
soppy intention in norm schools, but it didn’t work too well with the Handicapped
because most of the content was completely inappropriate for us.

This morning’s vid
was about politics, so the whole class were ignoring the big wall vid. Earth
was physically in the centre of Alpha sector, but wasn’t legally a member of
that or any other sector, so why would we care about how Parliament of Planets
and Sector High Congress were organized? We didn’t even get to vote for planetary
representatives, because Earth was run by a bunch of sector-appointed norms on
the main board of Hospital Earth.

We were in our
standard classes for Compulsory Core, so Issette was sitting next to me, drooling
over images of her favourite singer, Zen Arrath, on her lookup. Keon was on the
other side of me, apparently fast asleep. I sat between them, trying to force
myself to think calmly and logically about whether I should go back to New York
Fringe after school, and failing miserably. My head kept replaying the moment
when I crashed the plane. My ears were filled with the sound of the sickening
crunch as it hit the ground, and my stomach churned with shame and
embarrassment.

The tedium of
Compulsory Core finally ended, and we had our lunch break. I sat in silence,
prodding at my food with a fork rather than eating it, while the others
chattered away to each other. Eventually, Issette turned to frown at me.

“Jarra, what’s
wrong?”

“We’ve just been
forced to watch a vid about politics, when the Handicapped aren’t allowed to
vote,” I said bitterly. “What do you think is wrong?”

She gave me a
doubtful look, which showed she’d guessed there was something more going on here
than my usual frustrations at the way the Handicapped were treated, but didn’t
ask any more questions.

In the
afternoon, we split up into our study streams. Given Earth’s specialities, the
three major streams were naturally Childcare, Medical and History, with
everything else wedged together under Alternative Studies. Maeth, Ross, and Selia
were in Childcare stream, Issette, Vina and Ayden were in the Medical stream, I
was in the History stream, and Keon and Cathan were with the other oddities in
Alternative Studies.

I had no break
in the afternoon, because I wasn’t just studying standard modern history and
pre-history, but taking the extension classes in pre-history as well. I loved pre-history,
the days when humanity only lived on Earth. If I’d been born back then, everyone
would have thought I was totally normal. It was the invention of the drop
portal that changed everything, gave humanity the stars, and divided it into
the norms who streamed off to found new worlds and the Handicapped who were left
on Earth as it fell apart.

We were studying
the late twenty-third
century that afternoon. That was the magical
time, the last years of pre-history when humanity’s science and technology was
at a peak that we still hadn’t regained. Wallam-Crane had invented the standard
portal, so people could travel freely around Earth. The legendary sprawling
cities of Earth still held countless millions.

No one thought
that within a hundred years those cities would be abandoned and falling into
ruins. No one realized that finding the doorway to the stars would lead to
disaster, as humanity overstretched itself in the greed to settle far too many
new worlds far too fast. No one knew the Earth data net would crash, robbing humanity
of half the knowledge they took for granted, and leaving civilization near
total collapse.

I tried to
forget the nagging issue of whether I’d go back to New York Fringe, and
concentrate on our history teacher talking about the lost technology of the
past, but it was hard to lose myself in my love of history when I was
constantly aware of the clock on the wall. The time seemed to be speeding by,
rushing me on to the moment when I’d have to make a decision.

“Central to the
twenty-third century society was an individual’s personal net,” said our
teacher. “These were completely invisible to anyone else, since there was no
actual display. You saw your personal net by means of signals sent directly to
the visual centre of your brain.”

He used his
lookup to project a set of glowing holo spheres around the room. “If you go and
stand in the centre of one of these spheres, you’ll see a holo recreation of
the view of a personal net.”

I went and stood
in the nearest sphere, and saw a mass of glowing images and data flowing around
me.

“Totally zan!”
said someone. “I wish I had a personal net instead of just a lookup.”

The bell rang to
signal the end of the school day, and the glory around me abruptly vanished as our
history teacher turned off the holo spheres. I came back from the past to the
present, and felt sick as I realized I was out of time. If I was going to
sacrifice my pride and go back to New York Fringe, I had to do it now. I
followed the rest of the class out of the door, and found Issette waiting for
me.

“Jarra, what’s the
matter?”

I shrugged. “Nothing.
I’ve just got to go over to New York Fringe to sort something out.”

She frowned. “Is
the pilot trying to wriggle his way out of teaching you to fly?”

I could never
talk to people about the things that really upset me. Not to my prying psychologist,
not to Issette, not even to Candace. Talking meant thinking about the problem.
Talking meant admitting it hurt. Talking took away all my defences.

“Not exactly,” I
said. “You’d better hurry or you’ll miss the block portal back to Next Step.”

Issette
hesitated for a moment, then waved her hands in despair and headed off to where
the first wave of kids was already vanishing through active portals. The first
window of scheduled block portals ended, the portals shut down for a moment and
then activated again. More kids went through until only a handful stood waiting
to dial their own individual destinations. One of them was Vina. As I walked up
to the portals, she glared at me.

“Have you stayed
here to spy on me?”

I sighed. “Of
course not. I didn’t go back to Next Step because I’m supposed to go to America
this evening.”

“Going flying
again?” She shook her head. “You’re obsessive, Jarra. Why can’t you do normal,
fun things like everyone else?”

She didn’t wait
for an answer, just turned away from me to dial a portal, using her left hand
to block my view of what portal code she was entering. A chaos stupid thing to
do, because it told me she was going to see Ben’s mother again.

I didn’t bother
to say anything. I’d made a complete mess of my own affairs so I could hardly
criticize Vina. Let her go ahead and make a nardle of herself if she wanted.

After Vina
walked through her portal, it deactivated. Everyone else had gone now. I stood
there alone, looking at the blank portal in front of me. Should I go to New
York or my Next Step? Should I sacrifice my pride or my dreams? Should I risk
making an idiot of myself for the second time and proving all the off-world
comedians were right?

I’d been
standing there for five minutes without moving, when I heard the sound of a
hideously familiar voice. I turned my head in alarm, and saw a group of
teachers were walking towards the portals. The science teacher was in the lead,
bellowing a series of complaints about the hot weather so none of the others had
a chance to say a word.

I was desperate
to escape before she noticed me and made one of her acid remarks about me and
science, so I hastily dialled Europe Transit 3, reassuring myself that going
there didn’t commit me to anything. Once in the Transit, I automatically joined
a queue and walked through an inter-continental portal to America, then headed
to the nearest local portal and dialled New York Fringe.

The portal
flickered to life and I stood there looking at it. I’d delayed my decision to
the final second, but I had to make it now. Did I turn round and head back to
Next Step, or force myself to walk through that portal?

Vina had said I
was obsessive, and she was right. I didn’t just spend every school day studying
history, I watched history vids in my spare time, and spent my school breaks excavating
ruins with the history club. On top of all that, I’d been going to ludicrous
lengths to try and learn to fly.

Why keep doing
these things? Why walk through that portal and humiliate myself? I didn’t have
to go to New York Fringe today. I didn’t have to go there ever again. I could
turn round right now, walk away, and do what Vina said. Forget the ruined
cities and the flying, and spend my summer break doing normal things like
everyone else.

I didn’t turn
round. I lifted my head and walked into the portal, because I wasn’t everyone
else. I was me. The stars were out of my reach, but I wasn’t going to spend the
rest of my life chained to the ground. I was going to get back in a plane and fly.

I hurried straight through the New
York Fringe reception area. Technically, I should report my arrival at the
desk, but the woman sitting behind it was the same one I’d spoken to about
getting my pilot’s licence, and she’d seen me leaving in tears yesterday. I wasn’t
sure whether I’d get criticism or encouragement from her, but I couldn’t handle
either.

I heard the
woman’s voice as I went through the door. She was speaking too quietly for me
to make out the words, but I guessed she was telling Gradin I was here. I ran
to central stores, grabbed the same impact suit I’d worn before, and sprinted
for the changing rooms. It was a pathetic gesture towards salvaging my pride,
but I’d show Gradin exactly how fast I could suit up.

I yanked off my clothes,
pulled on the skintight you wore under an impact suit, and then slowed down to
put on the suit itself. Rushing was counterproductive when you were putting on
an impact suit. Any sudden pull at the fabric would trigger it, so it went rock
hard the same way it did in an accident.

The second I had
the suit on, I set the displays to show my name and headed for the landing
area, pulling my hood up and sealing it on the way. The plane parked there had
long grazes scarring the paintwork on its side. I couldn’t spare more than a
single guilty look at them, because Gradin was already sitting in the cockpit, the
flashing lights in front of him showing he was running diagnostics and power checks.

I hesitated as
he turned towards me, tempted to run away again, but comforted myself with two
things. Firstly, Gradin’s startled movement showed he hadn’t expected me to be
suited up this fast. Secondly, he couldn’t see my face through the fabric of my
impact suit hood. That meant I didn’t have to worry about betraying expressions
or tears. Only my voice could give away my feelings and I’d keep my words to an
absolute minimum.

I accepted a
hover tunic from Gradin, put it on, and climbed into the co-pilot’s seat. Gradin
didn’t say hello, just started giving instructions.

“When pre-flight
system checks have finished, you’ll take off, do a couple of midair circles,
and come in to land. You’ll repeat that several times. Don’t worry. Nothing will
go wrong because I’ll be paying proper attention this time.”

I entered my
pilot code, then silently sat there watching the diagnostics finish. After that
came the moment I’d been dreading. The standard exchange on broadcast channel.

“This is New
York survey plane,” said Gradin. “Requesting clearance to launch.”

Needle stabs of
embarrassment hit me as I listened to a woman reply, hypersensitive to every
inflection in her voice. Had she heard about what happened yesterday? Was she
fighting back laughter? Was there a hint of sarcasm in the professional tone?

“This is Fringe
Dig Site Command. New York survey plane, you are clear to launch.”

“This is New
York survey plane. Pilot handing control to co-pilot for launch.”

And now it was
my turn. I unlocked the co-pilot controls, switched my comms to broadcast
channel for a moment, and forced out the words. “This is New York survey plane
co-pilot, Jarra Reeath. I have control.”

How had that
sounded to the people listening? Probably tense, but at least my voice hadn’t
been shaking. I moved on to face the next test, lifting the plane up on hovers
and positioning for take-off. Thankfully, Gradin wasn’t nagging me to hurry up
this time, so I could take a moment to prepare myself before engaging thrusters
and launching the plane skywards.

Safely up in the
air, I banked the aircraft to start the first of my two circles over the New
York Fringe Command Centre. Frankly, I’d have liked to fly dozens of circles, hundreds
of circles, staying up in the air for the full power capacity of the aircraft.
The idea of landing was terrifying the chaos out of me.

I was tempted to
tell Gradin I’d done all I could cope with today, and ask him to land the plane
for me, but doing that would make this whole ordeal totally pointless. I’d
messed up my last landing. I had to face up to that mistake, do it again, and get
it right. I knew that if I didn’t land the plane by the time I left this
evening, I’d never come back to try again.

What was the
worst that could happen anyway? I might manage to scratch the plane some more,
possibly even break a wing or smash it to pieces, but our impact suits would go
solid to protect us during the crash. I’d be able to run off in tears again
afterwards, just like I did yesterday, and Gradin wouldn’t try to make me come
back a second time.

I finished my
first circle, headed round a second time, and started my landing approach with my
body aching with tension.

“You’re much too
high,” said Gradin.

He was right. I
dipped the nose of the plane to correct that, overdid it, corrected again, and
blinked sweat out of my eyes as I stared at the landing area ahead. Getting
closer, closer, closer. I cut the thrusters to stalling point, transferred to the
hovers with a nasty judder, closed down thrusters entirely, then lowered the
plane to the ground and double-checked thrusters were properly off before
cutting hovers.

I sagged down in
my seat, feeling giddy with relief, and there was a short silence before Gradin
spoke.

“That was the
jerkiest flight I’ve ever suffered in my life. Let’s go round again and please try
to relax this time.”

I wanted to tell
him to nuke off, but counted to ten instead, then gathered my tattered nerves
together for the take off. After the second landing, Gradin sighed.

“Well, I suppose
that was fractionally less painful. Let’s go round again and …”

He let the words
trail off, because the lookup attached to his right forearm was making an
urgent bleeping noise. He groaned, tapped it, looked down at the display, and
groaned again. “As I was saying, let’s go to Athens.”

I was grazzed. “What?”

He ignored me and
spoke on broadcast channel. “This is New York survey plane. The Dig Site
Federation has sent out a general pilot alert. Athens has a major forest fire
heading for them and is requesting air assistance. Can you warn New York Main I’ll
need an emergency freight portal link to take my fire plane straight through to
Athens?”

“This is Fringe
Dig Site Command. Passing your message to New York Main. Does Athens need
volunteers for ground fire fighting as well?”

“This is New
York survey plane. Athens has already got a ground shift system organized with volunteer
teams from the dig sites in Europe, so they just need more fire planes now.”

My shocked brain
was remembering being in Athens last year, standing on a hillside and looking
across at the Acropolis. The breathtaking beauty of the ruins perched on their
high, rocky outcrop, the green of trees below dotted with the remains of other
buildings. The vast cities like New York had already been hit by plenty of
fires since they’d been abandoned. A forest fire could do little more damage to
them, but the precious ancient ruins of Athens …

Gradin turned
off his comms, opened the cockpit, jumped down to the ground, then turned to
look back at me. “Are you helping with this or not?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” He
unsealed the front of his hood, pulled it down, and frowned at me. “I could use
a co-pilot to work the scoops for me, but if you aren’t interested …”

I opened my own
hood, welcoming the chill of the breeze on my sweaty face, and savouring the
fresh air. I’d no idea what he meant by the scoops, but Athens was in danger,
and if I could do anything at all to save it … “I want to help.”

“Then you shift
this plane out of the way for a minute, while I get the fire plane out.”

He strode off to
the plane storage dome and opened its huge double doors. I was left sitting
alone in a plane for the first time ever. Feeling ludicrously nervous, I turned
on the hovers, and moved the survey plane at minimum speed towards the side of
the landing area. The fire plane was coming out of the storage dome now. I turned
my head to watch it go past me. It was white, like the survey plane, but with
red stripes on the wings.

Gradin’s voice
came over the private channel on my suit comms. “You can put the survey plane
in the storage dome now, while I start running diagnostics and power checks on
this one.”

I started the
survey plane moving again, and gulped as I looked at the dome doorway ahead of
me. I had to get the wide spreading wings of my plane through that.

“Plug the plane
in while you’re at it,” added Gradin. “I try to keep all my planes fully
recharged in case they’re urgently needed.”

I frowned in concentration
as I inched the plane forward through the doorway. There should be plenty of
clearance on either side, but it was hard to judge exactly where the fragile wingtips
ended. Once inside the dome, I parked in a clear space over by the wall to
avoid doing any clever manoeuvres.

I turned off the
hovers with a sigh of relief, opened the cockpit, jumped down and took a proper
look round. There were eight planes in here, and another outside. New York
Fringe Dig Site only had two planes, so the rest must belong to Gradin. Professional
pilots had their own planes assigned to them, and it made sense for Gradin to
bring his across from New York Main if he was basing himself at Fringe for the
summer. I just hadn’t expected him to have so many of them.

I went over to
the nearest recharge point, and dragged out a cable to plug in the plane. I
stuck my head in the cockpit for a moment, checked the power cell light was
flashing amber for a recharge, and then remembered something. I spoke on the
private channel to Gradin.

“It’s five hours
later in Europe than here.”

“I know,” he
said. “The night flying will be good experience for you.”

“I meant that if
I go to Athens, I won’t be back at Next Step in time for curfew roll call.”

“Don’t tell me
they still have the same oppressive rules they had back when I was a kid.
Chaos, I haven’t thought about curfew roll call in years.” He laughed. “I
missed it once, got chased down by a Hospital Earth Truant Officer, and forced to
wear a tracker bracelet for months. You’d better sprint and tell people in
reception you’re going to Athens. They’ll sort things out with your Next Step.”

You can’t sprint
at top speed in a heavy impact suit without totally exhausting yourself, but I
headed to reception at a sedate jogging run. The woman behind the desk gave me
an anxious look.

“I’m going to
Athens with Gradin.” I paused to gasp in a mouthful of air. “Please warn my
Next Step I won’t be back for curfew.”

“You’re going to
Athens?” Her face changed from anxious to startled. “Yes, I just heard about
the forest fire. I’ll explain what’s happening to your Next Step. I can get the
contact details from your record.”

I belatedly realized
what my arrival must have looked like. Running in still wearing an impact suit,
with my hair rioting and my face sweaty, she must have thought this was a
repeat of yesterday’s scene. I didn’t have time to worry about that now, I
couldn’t keep Gradin waiting, so I just turned and ran back out of the dome.

As I jogged back
across the landing area, I studied the fire plane again. There was something
strange about the shape of the cockpit.

“Hurry up,” said
Gradin. “Diagnostics have completed and we’ve got clearance to launch.”

I dived into my
seat. There was barely time for me to pull up my suit hood and seal it before the
plane was lifting on hovers. Gradin hit the thrusters and we soared upwards
before turning sharply. I could see the ominous black towers of New York Main in
the distance now, but my thoughts were on what was happening in Europe.

Over the
centuries, woods had expanded across its abandoned countryside, merging to
recreate ancient forests. There were fires every summer, started by lightning,
old house power storage units exploding, or something as trivial as sunlight
shining through broken glass. In a dry spell, they raced through tangled shrubs
and trees until they were stopped by heavy rain or burnt themselves out.

If a forest fire
threatened a settlement, people would grab their most important belongings,
portal out, and hope the automated water sprays would protect the buildings so
there was something to come back to later. Home E161/8822 had had a fire alert the
year I was 9. I remembered how Issette was in tears, clinging to her silly
fluffy toy, Whoopiz the Zen, as the staff herded us through the portal to an
evacuation centre that was in total chaos. We spent two days there, crammed in with
the kids from the other two Homes in the same settlement, as well as a whole mob
of distressed babies and toddlers from the nearby Nursery unit.

We were lucky
that time, because the wind changed direction and took the fire away to burn
itself out against a lake. The settlement, Home E161/8822, and Issette’s precious
fluffy toy collection survived undamaged, but Athens could …

“We’re just
hopping over to the freight link at New York Main.” Gradin’s voice interrupted
my thoughts.

I peered down at
the ground, watching the ruins gradually grow taller, and then saw an open area
ahead with the distinctive grey curves of flexiplas domes beside it. There was
a sharp crackling sound on the comms system.

“What was that?”
I asked.

“Suit comms did
an auto channel reset as we crossed the boundary between Fringe and Main.”
Gradin set his comms to speak on broadcast channel. “This is New York fire
plane entering New York Main air space. Commencing landing approach to New York
Freight Link.”

“This is New
York Main Dig Site Command. Welcome New York fire plane. We’ve cleared you a
landing area and are ready to dial you an emergency freight portal link to
Athens,” said a male voice.