Evacuation (The Seamus Chronicles Book 2) (15 page)

The best day of my life—that’s the only way I will ever be able to describe what happened today. Henry and I performed the first ever warp jump and it was flawless. In the blink of an eye, we were in orbit around Mars. The view of our solar system was spectacular. We completed a few orbits of the red planet while checking systems and monitoring vital signs.

I guess technically that was yesterday, as it is about four in the morning now. We are all gathered around the giant cargo planes that hold the keys to our survival. When we returned from our trip to Mars, we went straight back to work on correctly reloading the supplies. It’s not ideal and the planes are overloaded, but according to the Air Force guys we have a significantly better chance of getting these things onto the ground in one piece than we had yesterday.

Most all of us have passed the point of exhaustion that requires sleep and have moved into the restless stages. Wine and beer are helping us lose the edge and get to a place where we can catch our last few hours of shut-eye here on Earth. It’s like an impromptu little farewell party for our planet.

“So what was it like on the way back? Did you see the Earth come rushing at you?” Liam still doesn’t quite get the concept of the warp jump.

“Not really. Since we had the exact coordinates we left from, the computer was able to create the warp field to leave us within a couple of feet from where we left. There was a little bump as we settled to the ground, but nothing significant,” I explain. Secretly, I’m still amazed that everything went so smoothly.

“The better way to phrase his question is what was the visual experience as you completed the warp jump?” Cassandra had already relayed her experience of watching the craft disappear when we warped away.

“You were right: an epic white light, but only in my memory. I believe that there were so many stimuli that my brain could not process the event. I think that my eyes were open the whole time, but all I remember seeing was the control panel and outer space and then it was the control panel and the runway. There was nothing between the two.” It’s difficult for me to explain, but soon they will all share the experience.

Grace and Sofie arrive in a golf cart full of food and more drinks. I can see that they also have a stack of papers with them. Liam hobbles over to help them unload the refreshments and Sofie shoos him away like a fly. He worked harder than anyone today and still he’s ready to step up and lend a hand while I sit and finish my beer. Maybe I’ll be a better person on the new planet.

“I would like to leave tomorrow afternoon at three,” Mom says. “That gives us some time to wrap up loose ends and still have some margin for error if one of the craft has a problem. Grace has printed out the day’s schedule so that no one is left behind. We’ve all worked very hard to get this far and each of us deserves their seat on one of these planes. It will be tough to say goodbye, but the departure time is non-negotiable and stragglers will be left behind.” She is serious and still working while the rest of us decompress.

Several people take handouts from the stack before making their way back toward the dorms. Even though the crew from McMurdo has broken quarantine, they continue to sleep separately. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to evacuate Earth with a hangover, but Dad doesn’t seem to care as he crushes another beer. I observe them all with my distant scientific filter: no fear or concern, only curiosity. I should get some sleep, but I’m not sure my brain will shut off if I lay down.

“Hey spaceman,” Sofie says, appearing at my side. How is it that I wasn’t observing her?

“Hey.” I’m not sure what to say to her.

She sits quietly next to me and her nearness feels good. It’s not the first time I’ve experienced this feeling, but it continues to amaze me that being in her presence has a physical and mental effect on me. The twins must certainly be in her mind, but I am so bad at reading people that I’m not sure if she wants me to mention them or if I should stay away from saying anything. The safe topic is the seed repository.

“Is the repository all ready?” I can’t even ask a good question.

“Yup,” Sofie answers, my simple question met with a simple answer.

“Who came up with the layout? I was surprised not to see anything about it in the official document.” I’ve wanted to ask her this for a few days.

“Grace and I. It was actually the opposite of what William thought we should do, but once we started laying it out he said he was glad he listened to us,” Sofie says. She has no light in her voice as she recalls this achievement.

The repository holds a variety of organic matter and materials. The intent is that when radiation levels drop, the lid will open up and allow wind to carry seeds and seedpods out into the world. The layout devised by Grace and Sofie has a ring of water around the outside wall of the repository. The water holds bacteria spores that eat radioactive materials and generate heat as a byproduct. It’s all set up so that not only will there be seed pods to fly away on the wind, the repository itself will be a seed-starting environment to ensure that
something
will take root and start growing.

“Did you perform a sweep for human cells?” I wonder aloud about the existence of human DNA and the potential effects of its exposure to radiation.

“You are too funny. Sometimes you’re as much science fiction as you are science fact. I’m sure there are human cells, from our skin and hair, which are strewn about everywhere. I do not believe that they will mutate and spawn a monster human,” she says and laughs softly for the first time in a long while.

“What about like a cryogenically frozen fetus or something?” Now that she’s laughing I want it to continue, so I exaggerate to the extreme.

“Of course, one male, the other female. Now you know the real story behind Adam and Eve.” She laughs at the absurdity of our conversation.

In reality, I don’t find it that absurd. If the repository works as planned and the nuclear event does not destroy the polarity of the planet, I can imagine Earth becoming a virtual garden of Eden centuries down the road. Without the negative impact of humans on the environment, plant life will flourish. Grasses and trees will grow everywhere.

“Luther is staying,” Grace says as she comes to sit with us.

“I thought he might,” Sofie answers solemnly.

“Who’s Luther?” I ask.

“He was with the McMurdo team. Ever since they broke quarantine, he hasn’t been too interested in getting out of bed or helping. When Mom told him that he couldn’t come if he didn’t help, he was fine with it.” Grace is sharing gossip like we work in an office.

It makes sense to me. There are bunkers that have been designed to withstand all-out nuclear war. Most of us are confident that it is impossible to live underground long enough to outlast a nuclear winter, but the fact is no one has ever really tested out the theory. I don’t know Luther, but I have never met a soul that I thought would be able to make it to the end of their supplies. Months of living in a tiny bunker with only yourself for company and no fresh air or daylight would push anyone over the edge. People have survived on the space station for over a year, but I contend that it’s a very different situation. At any rate, it’s worth a shot.

“Well, God bless Luther,” is all I can come up with.

“I don’t want to be cruel, but even if he doesn’t make it, I think it would be cool to have a record of what it was like here on Earth after the nukes go off,” Grace says, giving a rare glimpse into her darker side.

“I was seriously considering staying,” Sofie says and her voice trails off.

“I hope the
was
means you decided to come with us?” I ask her nervously.

“The twins wanted to go into space so bad. Now I feel like I owe it to them to go. You know? Really see and experience all the things they imagined seeing.” She looks up into the sky and there are tears in her eyes.

“I hate what happened to them,” I say. “It took me a while to see how good it was for all of us to have them around. Then I realized that it wasn’t just having them around, it was how you helped their energy and optimism keep us all going. You are an amazing person and they were so lucky to have you.” This is the only way I know to phrase my feelings.

“Here. Here.” Grace and Liam raise their glasses and salute Sofie.

“I think we all should go get some sleep,” Dad says. He just approached the group and is trying to herd us back to the dorms.

I know that we should sleep. Tomorrow is going to be exhausting in ways that none of us can anticipate. The journey itself will be fast and needs very little stamina from us. It’s dealing with the environment on the new planet that will take everything we have.

Most of us are used to traveling for pleasure. In those cases, the journey can be long and exhausting; arrive at the airport hours before your flight, sit in an uncomfortable seat, taxi, takeoff, etc. Later today, we will be able to walk onto our craft, have a seat and then be galaxies away in the blink of an eye. No lines, no tickets and no needless waiting. There may be a slight delay while we scan the planet, but this trip will be more like moving from the kitchen to the living room than like heading from New Hampshire to San Francisco.

We all start shuffling for the dorms and I make my way toward Sofie. I didn’t think she saw me, but then her hand grabbed mine and gave it a squeeze. Grace peels away without fanfare and walks with Dad at the back of the group.

“Thanks for what you said about me and the twins. I feel like I processed my parents’ death kind of easily, maybe because they were older, but losing the twins is hard for me to deal with.” Sofie has a distance in her voice that makes me sad.

“I’m not great with words so I’m sorry if what I said sounded cold. It just doesn’t seem like there are words for how stupid the people who did all this were. I’m glad they’re dead, but it’s not fair that kids had to suffer,” I say. None of us have lamented much on the fairness of what we’ve been left to deal with, so this isn’t a tired comment.

“It wasn’t cold, but it was definitely you,” she says. “I’m glad you didn’t try and pitch me some generic ‘carry them in your heart forever’ line. The fact the you care enough to be honest and real with me means a lot.” She stops walking and rises up on her toes to kiss me.

We share a long warm kiss and I can feel my energy level spike and then crash. I’m running on empty and adrenaline will only keep me vertical for a little longer.

“It feels so good to be near you,” I whisper in her ear as we hug.

Yesterday I went to Mars and hung out for a few minutes. That is so cool to think about. Why couldn’t the world have accomplished this feat during a time of peace and tranquility? I want to rail against the survivors from McMurdo and ask how the people they worked for could do this, but I suspect they’re all just worker bees.

I’m awkwardly in tune with how I feel, physically. Even if we find an inhabitable planet, the likelihood that it will have the same gravitational field and atmospheric mix as Earth is low. That means every physical sensation I am feeling will be the last time I feel it in this way. From jumping down the last steps of a flight of stairs to taking a deep breath, nothing will ever feel exactly this way again.

Food is out everywhere I turn. That must be Liam; he’s been so focused on food for the last few days. He’s been constantly noting his lasts: last donut on Earth, last taquito on Earth, last Coke on Earth. I’ve actually enjoyed listening to him carry on. While he used to be just a thorn in my side, he’s now a valued presence in my day. I’ve found a way to tolerate some of his abundance of energy and he’s found a way to temper his chatter. When his whole ‘last’ thing started to get on my nerves, he stopped doing it just long enough so that it was funny when he did it again. Now his timing is pretty solid, and I chuckle with each new ‘last’ he shares.

“Hey Seamus, last applesauce on Earth,” Liam says. He holds up the tiny plastic container of applesauce and smiles at me.

“You’re such an idiot. Have you seen the girls?” I’m shaking my head and I’m pretty sure he knows that I’m kidding about the idiot thing.

“Nah, I think they were doing something with Remmie over by the ash pile,” he responds between spoonfuls of sauce.

“Make sure you’re at FRED by 2:45. I don’t want to spend my last minutes on Earth rushing around trying to find you.” I pat him on the shoulder as I walk past.

I know already that he’s going to be late; he always is. He’ll be with us on the new planet, but this is what I am going to miss most about Earth, this harmless absentmindedness. On the new planet, he might die if he forgets something basic, like that you can’t walk outside in a liquid nitrogen shower. We’re going to be on the razor’s edge of survival, probably for the rest of our lives, and Liam does not balance well.

As I walk to the ash pile where the dormitory the twins died in used to stand, I take everything in. The smell, the sound and the colors all seem so vibrant. I’ve never seen myself as the nostalgic type. I love progress and invention, but I am already missing things. Ahead I see the girls and Remmie kneeling by the massive pile of ruble that used to be a building.

They don’t budge or make a sound as I approach. I try to stand quietly and respectfully, but it seems like they are taking too long for a simple prayer. Clearing my throat, I shift noisily on my feet, letting them know I’m there. Grace shows a hint of movement and I can see her hand drop to the side of her leg and one finger stretch out. She’s telling me to give them another minute and I am grateful for the information.

When they rise, there are tear stains on the girls’ faces and Remmie looks confused. We’ve already said goodbye to the twins and I’m sure he can’t understand why they are back here kneeling. He was always a pretty quiet kid and now that his playmates are gone, he’s borderline silent.

“Let me guess, you want us to be at FRED by two o’clock or something?” Grace says, expecting me to give an order.

“Nope. I just wanted to hang out with you guys while we killed time.” I’m ready to be done thinking and planning.

“Well, we were just going to go for a bike ride and just kind of play. Do you know how to play, Seamus?” Sofie teases, speaking to me as if I were a child.

“You’re it!” I pop Remmie on top of the head and run away a little.

A game of tag erupts and we are laughing and running our way toward the nearest patch of lawn. Liam joins us and hops around mostly on one foot. His broken leg is healing but still I think he uses it too much. Everyone is loose and relaxed; my dad says this is the hallmark of the truly prepared. I don’t know if Grace, Liam and I would have reached this level of closeness eventually or if we only got here because of the apocalypse, but I regret not having more time like this.

Tag runs its course and Remmie hops on his bicycle and speeds off. Grace grabs a bike too, and chases after him, while Liam hobbles over to the golf cart and takes off in pursuit. I watch them go and have an internal debate about following them. Sofie puts her arm around my waist and staying put easily wins the argument.

“Since we found out that we had to leave the planet, I have been worrying that where ever we go will be worse. When I woke up this morning, I decided to keep thinking that we might go somewhere better,” Sofie says as we watch the others ride in circles.

“I know. The new planet could have slightly higher oxygen content in the air, which would help us all feel a little better. The ozone structure could be different and allow a wider spectrum of light through to the planet’s surface. There are so many things that could be cool on the new planet,” I say. I’ve thought about these things off an on for a while.

“I was thinking more along the lines of no pollution, no crime and a fresh start, but those other things might be nice, too,” she says, and she’s laughing with me.

She has the right idea, though. Think positive. If we project the best outcome, we will receive the best outcome. If we don’t know what to expect, it makes more sense to visualize good than evil. Fertile land and long growing seasons are as possible as acid rain and radioactive soil. Starting now, I am going to expect the best, no more negative thoughts.

In the distance I can see the folks from McMurdo gathering near the planes. No one is rushing about and there are small groups of people walking calmly around the tarmac. Mom and Dad come out of the dorm and begin walking over to us; they are smiling and look happy. It seems like everyone has accepted our reality and is trying to make the best of it.

Together we stand in silence and watch my brother and sister play with Remmie. If it weren’t for the fact that we were about to experience a nuclear winter, I would say that all is right with the world.

“It’s a little after two. I think we’re going to go over to the planes and wait there until three. Knowing Seamus, he’s probably told you all to be there by 2:45 already,” Mom says before she and dad walk off.

Organically we all make our way over to the planes. The order and structure that has defined our past few months is gone. It’s our last half hour on Earth and no one has anything to do.

“Shouldn’t we say something?” Grace says. She was made for big moments.

“I think that I speak for all of us who were stationed in McMurdo when I say that awe is not a sufficient term for our reaction to your accomplishments. Being rescued from Antarctica by a civilian with no formal flight training was itself a miracle. Standing here waiting to make a light speed warp jump to a distant solar system in a last-ditch effort to save the human race is beyond comprehension.” Henry had clearly thought about his words, and they are big and impressive-sounding.

“I believe that it is our actions over the last few months that speak loudest,” Mom says. “From the human race standpoint, I am overly impressed by the mix of people that came together so that we would have this chance at survival. We are all equals.” She is subdued in her praise, but the words carry weight with us all.

“Everyone is present and accounted for, we can leave any time.” Dad loves to get the show on the road and treats this no different than leaving for a weekend at the lake.

Orderly processions begin into all three of the craft. I join the others and look around at our last views of planet Earth. The air is sweet and warm; there are birds chirping and it seems like a great day to be alive. Dad is standing by the door and surveying the area in case of a forgotten item or person.

Sofie goes through the door first, followed by Remmie, then Grace. I help keep Liam steady on his way up the short ladder, and Grace helps him with his crutches on the other side of the door. When I step through the door of the plane, I am embraced by my sister and brother. A moment later, Sofie, Remmie, Dad and Mom join the group hug.

Rarely do you hug or say goodbye to other passengers traveling with you, but this isn’t your standard departure. I’m again grateful that the most likely failure scenario will result in instant vaporization of the craft and all its contents. We embrace for quite a while and it feels right; we’re together as a family and, live or die, this is how we belong.

When the embrace is broken, we resume our ordered procession and head up the flight of stairs to the cockpit and crew quarters. Liam’s leg makes for slow going, but no one is in a rush. I would probably be more comfortable if there was some conversation going on, but seeing how I was always the one calling for silence, it doesn’t feel right for me to start talking.

At the top of the stairs, our little group separates. Dad and I will be sitting in the cockpit and Mom and the rest are going to be strapped into the crew quarters. For the first time, I see fear on their faces. I want to say something reassuring, but I have nothing. The truth is I’m scared, and it’s not like I have a safer seat than they do.

“See you in space,” I say. It’s my attempt at keeping things light and positive.

In the captain’s seat is Henry, and while I don’t know if he is the best available pilot, I am glad it’s someone I know. Jake, a virtual unknown, occupies the co-pilot seat. Henry has flown with him before. I get a navigator’s seat and Dad straps himself into a jump seat in the rear. The cockpit is huge and has the feeling of a corner office suite.

The radio crackles with some static and then the words follow.

“Galaxy one, this is Galaxy two, how do you read? Over.” The electronic voice is clear.

“Galaxy two, this is Galaxy one, we read you five by five. Over.” Jake is responsible for communications.

“Galaxy one, this is mini-me, how do you read? Over,” another distorted voice comes through.

“We read you loud and clear, mini-me. Over,” Jake answers the other craft.

I look back at my dad and he smiles at me.

“If this works, you’re welcome. If it doesn’t work, it was Liam’s idea,” I say with a broad smile.

“Seamus, all channels are open. Give the command and we can get off this rock,” Jake says, looking straight ahead out the windshield.

After a pause I need to think of what to say, I tell them “Hit it.”

And the sequence initiation buttons are pressed.

Without pomp or circumstance, the last humans on Earth cross over a space warp and arrive in a distant galaxy.