Paradise 21 (11 page)

“Enough for two people for five days.” Striker looked toward the blazing horizon. “If we stay out any longer than that, we’ll have to forage for food and water.”

“I’m not planning on lingering.” Aries hefted her bag onto her shoulders. She looked at the helm of the coral ship protruding up from the sand one last time. It reminded her of the pictures of fallen skyscrapers back on Earth. She wondered if her need to look back came from an instinctual reference point or a wistful connection. She’d met Striker on that ship.

“Come on. Let’s go.” Striker led the way.

They waded through soft sand. The sun cast long shadows behind them as it rose on the horizon to claim its long reign over the day. Aries recognized this sun from her first journey through the desert. Larger than the first, a haze of orange-red bled off its rim in a devilish halo. She wondered if it, too, would evolve into a red giant, dooming Sahara 354 to a predestined end.

Her dire thoughts always returned to Earth, as if it were her true home, although she’d never been there. “Striker, do you know what happened to the people left on Earth? After the space pirates took over the central station, the
New Dawn
lost all communication.”

Striker pulled back his scarf and put a canteen made from lizard scales to his lips. “Do you really want to know?”

Aries gave him a look like he’d asked if she really wanted to leave the
New Dawn
behind. “The people on the
New Dawn
have speculated what became of them for the past century. Yes, I want to know.”

Striker closed the canteen by stuffing the end of a lizard tail down the hole and pulled the scarf around his face. All she could see were his smoldering eyes, touched with sadness. “You must have deduced there wasn’t enough room on the space station for everyone.”

Aries nodded. “Of course.”

“Once the last ship was stolen, and the resources on Earth used up, the space station didn’t go back for refugees. There were cameras and a communications link to a headquarters back on Earth. At first, the remaining people kept in contact, telling us about the dwindling numbers, the disease and the devastation.”

Striker dug his walking stick into the sand with a hard push. “I watched the videos. Fewer and fewer of them reported in over time, and when they did, their faces were pockmarked with boils and puss-filled welts. They didn’t look good.”

Aries kept up to his pace with extended strides. She was lucky she had long legs. “The radiation?”

“Who knows?” Striker crested a dune, scanning the landscape. “All of a sudden, they stopped talking to us. Whether they’d all perished or were too angry with the pirates for failing to return, we could only guess.”

A sense of irresolution spread through her, as if she’d heard a long, sad story without an end. She felt as though there was more he hadn’t told her. “That’s it?”

Striker paused, as if deciding whether to go on. Aries climbed to the crest and caught his arm. “What is it?”

He looked toward the blazing sun. “The cameras sent a live feed. Radiation made reception spotty, but the space station still picked up the transmissions off and on. At first we thought it was only garbage rolling around on the deserted streets, but then we saw them huddled by trash bins and underneath toppled cars.”

“The people?”

“I guess. We never got a good look at them, but they walked strangely, crawling around on all fours like animals.”

Aries shuddered.

Striker tilted his head as if to say he’d told her so. “Maybe they evolved along with the radiation. Maybe it’s another species altogether. All I know is no one wanted to go back there, so we eventually shut the cameras off to save energy.”

“How horrible.”

“The world’s a tough place, and the universe is colder still.”

Aries fell silent, thinking about Striker’s words and the deformed people inhabiting old Earth. She had always held onto the hope that the people of Earth had turned things around, but Striker’s story blasted her hopes out of the sky. Maybe he was right: she had been better off not knowing.

“Man, I know how to trash a date, don’t I?”

Aries looked up, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Get down!” He dropped to a crouch and motioned for her to follow. Aries fell to her knees and watched him scan the rippling sand dunes. A blast of wind threw sand in a wave across the desert, making it hard for her to see the black dots dancing on the horizon.

“What is it?” She whispered, as if any living soul existed within earshot.

“Raiders, and lots of them.” He brought his binoculars from his cloak and looked again. “A freakin’ parade.”

Tiff leaned against the metal framework of her bunk in the
Morphic Marauder
, squeezing glue out of a tube, applying the white worm to the sole of her space boot. She’d kicked a man so hard yesterday, the three-inch heel had ripped off the leather. After running a finger along the rim to spread the sticky ooze, she put her foot high against the chrome wall and pushed.

She’d have to hold the position until the glue dried, but waterproof boots were necessary where she was headed, and these were a rare pair. Refuge had forests, lakes, and marshes full of fresh water. She planned to be the first to take a dip. Gritting her teeth, she held herself up between the cot and the wall like a gymnast stretched taut on the high bars.

“Practicing your yoga?” Drifter stood in the doorway, chewing a piece of old gum. He’d used up the last package two years ago and kept this final wad as a reminder. He pulled it from his teeth with a grin and tucked it into a corner of his pocket for later.

“Shut up, Drifter. If you’d come with me in the first place, then I wouldn’t have needed to fight, and I wouldn’t have broken this heel.” Men in the twenty-seventh century disappointed her, Drifter included. They’d left all notions of chivalry back on Earth.

“Hey now, I was working with Reckon on the map. You know I always look out for ya.”

Tiff cracked her knuckles and looked away, resisting the urge to fight him. “Have the two of you made any headway?”

He crossed his arms in the self-satisfied way that aggravated Tiff’s nerves. “We’ve cracked the first set of theorems, yes.”

Tiff couldn’t help but look up in surprise. “And?”

“It’s only a matter of time.”

Tiff blew air out of her nose in relief. “How long?”

Drifter’s shoulders rose and fell in a nonchalant gesture. “Give Reckon another day or two, and we’ll be hightailing it outta here.”

Tiff released her position against the cot and the wall and landed on her feet. Her heel held underneath her weight. It was a good omen. She moved toward him. “You mean it?”

“You bet.”

Her anger faded. She wrapped her arms around his neck and locked lips, kissing him fiercely. He put his arms around her and squeezed, his long, dark hair falling around them.

Footsteps clattered in the corridor behind them. “Captain Drifter, sir.”

Tiff recognized the voice as the boy they’d found living in the ventilator shafts over their docked ship. She’d convinced Drifter to keep him around, so she hoped he wasn’t up to anything stupid. She felt responsible for the kid.

Drifter pulled away from her and turned around. His voice had a tinge of annoyance to it. “Yeah, Loot, what’s up?”

“It’s Reckon, sir. He’s throwing a fit.”

Drifter loosened his grip around Tiff. “What do you mean?”

“He’s lost it. You have to stop him.”

Drifter shot Tiff a wary look. “Come on.”

They ran down the corridor to their ship’s main deck, pale green lights illuminating their path. Tiff’s heart beat hard in her chest as her boots clanked on the metal grid that served as a floor. As they grew closer, Tiff heard Reckon’s screams of fury echo down the corridor. She prayed it didn’t concern the map.

As they entered the deck, Reckon threw a plastic cup across the room. It cracked on the main sight panel and fell to the floor, bouncing twice before rattling to a halt. Tiff put a protective arm around Loot, holding him close as Drifter ran to stop Reckon.

Reckon beat his fist against the control panel, making red lights flash in warning. Drifter grabbed him from behind and held the old man’s arms back before he could do any more damage. “Reckon, what are you doing?”

“Damn son of a-” Reckon fought, but his feeble-boned arms were no match for Drifter’s pull-up-shaped biceps. Drifter let him go and he collapsed on the floor at Drifter’s feet, grasping his head in his hands.

“What are you talking about?” Drifter knelt beside him and held his head up, staring into his watery eyes. Tiff was glad she didn’t have to be the one to talk sense into the man. She didn’t want to touch his oily skin.

“He imprinted it. That’s what he did.”

Drifter looked back to Tiff but she had no idea what he meant.

“Imprinted what, Reckon?”

“The map.”

Did her heart stop beating? She wasn’t that lucky. Fate refused to allow her off its hook. She shivered, running her hands up and down Loot’s boyish arms. She’d never felt so trapped.

Drifter put his hand up to his head as if he couldn’t believe it. He growled through gritted teeth. “What do you mean?”

“He put in a code that’s linked to his genome. You need a piece of his DNA to match it.”

“We’ll scour the ship! There must be a piece of hair or something.”

“That’s not it.” Reckon seemed to gain an ounce of sanity as he righted himself on the floor. “It’s voice activated as well. The DNA is only the first step.”

“Damn.” Drifter looked up, as though an answer hung in the air above his head. His eyes brightened. “We could mimic his voice. We must have video logs of him saying something.”

“No. He needs to speak the DNA code in order. It’s impossible.” Reckon’s last word resounded through the chamber, damning them all.

Drifter held out his hands as if asking the old man for his salvation. “Reckon, you’ve got to tell us what else we can do.”

“Repo. It’s the only way.”

Tiff spoke for the first time. “You mean go back and get him?”

Drifter winced.

Reckon spoke, his voice whistling through the hole in his front teeth. “It’s the only way.”

Emotions whirled inside Tiff’s body, rising from her pointed boots on her feet to the spiky hairs on her head. She thought she’d never see Striker again. Part of her dreaded the sight of the pirate she’d help maroon, but a larger part of her surged with a bubbly feeling of hope.

“Loot.” Drifter flexed his forefinger, calling the boy over. His voice sounded hoarse and edged with anger. Tiff held Loot back, afraid Drifter might take out his aggravation on the boy.

Loot broke free of her grasp, shunning her motherly instinct, and walked over in a fearless gait. “Yes, Captain.”

Drifter’s face fell in disgust, his long chin jutting in a pout as if he’d swallowed a nasty bit of recycled sludge. “Prepare the
Morphic Marauder
for takeoff. We’re going back to Sahara 354 in three hours.”

…

“Over here, come on!”

Aries ducked and ran at the same time, following Striker behind the crest of a sand dune as the raiders crested the adjacent ridge. He pulled an orangey-beige tarp from his backpack and spread it over them like wings. It fell on Aries’ shoulders as she lay on her stomach beside him, her elbow touching his.

He gave her a wink. “Camouflage.”

“Has it worked before?”

Striker pulled his scarf down to show her a smile. “I’m still here, aren’t I? It works every time.”

Aries peeked through a crack in the fabric as the caravan of raiders approached, first in twos and then in larger numbers. Their tall, scrawny bodies bounced lightly over the sand, heads lolling from side to side. They carried spears and water skins and dragged dead scorpions by their tails behind them. An animal emerged from the haze, as big as Earth’s elephants, with tentacles sprouting from its mouth like whiskers. Two raiders rode its curved back while three others whipped its rump from behind. A waft of musky-scented air rode the wind and Aries had to hold her breath to avoid gagging.

Exhaling, she asked, “What is that thing?”

“Desert cow.” Striker passed her his binoculars. “I haven’t seen many of them alone. They stay in herds, and you don’t want to be around when there’s a stampede.”

Aries peered through the lens and pursed her lips, watching the beast feel around with its many trunks. It looked like an elephant from some crazy experiment gone awry. She gave Striker back his binoculars.

Child-sized raiders ran zigzagging behind the beast, circling its tracks in the sand. She hadn’t considered the fact the raiders had young, like any other species. Suddenly, the lizard men seemed more human to her. “I hope we don’t have to kill any of them.”

Striker must have spotted the children as well. “We’ll be quick. They won’t even know we’re there.”

One of the lizards’ young broke free from the caravan, following a snake as it writhed through the sand toward their dune. Aries tensed her arms to bolt, but Striker held her hand. “Don’t move.”