Elysium (24 page)

Father and son walked hand in hand out to the main lobby that was still wet from the nighttime rain. In the light of day, without the tricks of shadow to hide the damage, the structure of the museum was more haunting. The old world was truly gone. Adrian helped his son wrap his crimson cloth around his face, and he wrapped his own around his. Then they went out the grand doors to face the mist. Outside they were greeted by a fractured, beaten boulevard once called the great Museum Mile. The mist smoked and swirled near the surface of the cracked paving stones, pooling around their feet.

Adrian picked up Antoine.

“I want you to hold on tight,” he said. “Never let me go. Understand?”

Antoine nodded and grabbed his father around the neck. Adrian embraced his son and nuzzled him, feeling his child’s heartbeat next to his.
I will get my child home safe.

He opened his wings, stretching them wide to catch the wind. They
shinged
and tinkled, and he ran holding his son. The air lifted them, and they ascended high and higher. The rush of the breezes sped past his cheeks. He held onto Antoine and coasted, curving around to head north toward the shipyards. He could see the ribs of the ships poking up through the light mist of the morning. A dot of green appeared in the air. It was flat with no depth, yet it seemed as real as the clouds that floated past. Adrian steered to avoid it.

Before them was the wall that Adrian had designed to protect the ships. It was still under construction, yet it already seemed to stretch from one end of the island to the other. On the other side of it was civilization. It was an impenetrable barrier between the craziness that the world had become and calm order. Fortresses were placed every mile along its perimeter, each housing several fighting men to defend the border. Once they reached one of those fortresses, his son would be safe.

“Dad!”

Adrian looked to where Antoine was pointing. Creatures were closing in from behind. The aliens. The roaches. Maybe ten of them. They flicked and flittered through the air like a dark thought. Moving shadows that pierced through dimensional space.

Adrian tried to speed up. The shipyards were a little way ahead. He felt a tug at his leg. He shook it off and slashed it with released feathers that cut the thing in two. He held onto his son and screamed to the men working below. They were too far away and didn’t seem to see or hear him. The creatures were around him, grabbing at Antoine, whose tight grip choked his neck.

Others in crimson and brass wings appeared. Maybe they had heard him after all. Maybe they had seen the struggle in the sky. Regardless, these were his people, and they had come to help him and his son. They flew up from below, mercilessly cutting. Adrian spun around and around, slicing as he went. How dare they attack him? How dare they attack his son? The boy slipped out of his arms. It was sudden. He just fell. Adrian tried to grab him, but couldn’t find him. He looked all around. He couldn’t see him. All was red and gold and screams and the sounds of slicing flesh, but his son was gone.

“Antoine! Antoine!”

17.

>>

>>

>> timeframe /jump +80

*SYSTEM TIMEJUMP COMPLETE*

.
.
.

Antoine was among eleven others in the elevator. A sadness lingered as they flew higher and higher, up to the surface. Flashes of light seeped through, periodically illuminating their somber faces as they passed the many levels of the underground city. Most of them looked like new recruits. Their young lineless faces stared aimlessly at the changing numbers indicating the levels as they went by. Antoine felt so old standing next to them. His stomach paunched over his belt, and his shoulders sagged. He had once had a body that was firm like theirs. But that was long ago. The years somehow had been stolen from him. It felt as though he had woken up one morning and found himself in this old skin. Being the son of “The Great Adrian,” he had been permitted to come today as a courtesy. He knew his presence was not really needed, so he would do his best to stay out of the way. He wanted to see how all of this would play out. He wanted to see for himself how his world finally came to an end.

Antoine was old enough to remember when this was only a dream his father had. Now it was going to happen. And they were heading up to the surface for the last time to make sure all went well. The screeching inside the shaft sounded like a wailing child as the elevator reached the upper levels. Then the elevator was immersed in the natural light that shined in from above. Antoine leaned over to look out the windows in the door. They had reached the crust, the level between the very top of the city and the surface of the world. Stretching as far as his eyes could see were the great sheets of translucent metal used to produce the illusion of sky for the city below. They lay flat against the upper surface of the artificial world, undulating to simulate the movement of the heavens. Antoine could also see the inner workings of the atmospheric processors and the climate controllers that created the wind and the rain from the recycled air. No one was allowed to see this level. No one from the city was allowed out into the real world anymore. The high council had ordered it so. And who would disagree? No one really wanted to see the mess that had been made of it.

Antoine’s dad had helped to design and build the underground city. He had been one of the few who understood that this day would be coming. If not for men like his dad, the fate of the people of Earth would be most uncertain. His dad had long ago passed on, killed when Antoine was a little boy of eight. Antoine knew his time was coming soon to join him. He wondered if his dad ever knew that he had taken him home safely that day. When Antoine saw him, he would tell him. There was so much that he wanted to tell him. He was almost looking forward to it. But mostly, he just wanted to see his dad again. He missed him so.

Antoine also wished that his dad could see the results of his work. The world as it once was had been recreated to the finest detail. Antoine had watched the city grow from a deep, wide chasm in the ground to what it was today. The tall buildings reaching into the artificial sky, the ordered and perpendicular streets, and the market square teeming with buyers and sellers, all gave the sense of once-was. The city dwellers could almost forget that they lived underground. The one criticism Antoine had was that the city seemed too clean. It lacked grittiness. It lacked “warmth.” A city grown through the generations had a kind of disorder and randomness to it — a feeling that there might be something new and unexpected to be found by turning a corner and walking down an unknown street. The architecture of the underworld was too homogeneous, and so were the people. The young probably didn’t regret living in a false environment. But Antoine always did. He still remembered the feeling of the real wind on his cheeks and the smell of the natural air.

Antoine changed his mind then. He was glad that his dad was not alive to see this day.

The elevator door opened on the surface level to a dark enclosed passageway. There was a hint of light from the other end of the hall. Everyone paused. No one said anything. Antoine waited for the first of them to leave the elevator. The youngest one walked out first, followed by the others. The air felt hot and dry and still as they walked toward the light. They stopped beside a small stairway that led to a door outlined by the glow of day. One of them produced a key card that glowed red on its edge. He slid the key into the slot next to the door, and a heavy lock clicked. Then the metal door slowly rumbled open, allowing in the hot fresh air. Sand and brown dirt flew toward them. One by one they climbed the stairs to emerge outside. Antoine struggled with every step he took. His knee joints creaked painfully. The young ones attempted to help him climb the stairs. Antoine refused their assistance. He wanted to do this himself.

Outside a watercolor wash of an orange-gray sky blotted out the sun. The twelve stood upon a landscape created by swirled dunes of sand. Earth had been completely transformed through the long years of Antoine’s life. It was hard to believe that where he stood had once been a city. Today more than any other Antoine felt how his fate had been intertwined with that of his world. They had endured the last hard years together, and soon they both would pass away.

The air was arid and harsh against his skin. The twelve put on their veils. Antoine’s veil dropped away from his face. He moved it back. He still found it foreign to drape a cloth across his nose and mouth. The young men didn’t seem to have this problem. Their veils remained firmly in place, making them look like robbers with their faces almost completely covered with only a small space left for their eyes.

Antoine noticed that they were staring off into the distance behind him. He turned around to see where they were looking. There stood
The Trajan
, the last of the great ships. Its huge form darkened the landscape. It was as high as a building of once-was and as long as a farmer’s field. The curve of its bow and the lift and sweep of its stern made it seem ready to take flight. It had all the hallmarks of his dad’s designing hand.

Gathered beneath a wing of
The Trajan
was a large group of people sitting on the sand. The women wore dresses that had now become traditional, gonars, colorful robes that covered them from head to foot. The gonars were beautiful from a distance, in saturated colors such as purple, orange, and gold. The men dressed in gonars of solid white. All wore veils to protect their faces from the blowing sand and the dust. It was a treat for the eyes to see them. The people of the underground city had long ago decided on a more practical and drab form of dress.

Their arrival signaled the people to stand. Long gonars flapped in the heated breeze like waving flags. A few of the men remained to guard the door to the city while the others walked to the crowd, who waited in eerie silence the long moments it took for them to approach. The crowd parted noiselessly, allowing them to pass. There was only the sound of feet crunching in the sand. The men began to put up the temporary shelter, basically a large tent, to house the administrators once they arrived. Antoine stood aside and watched. It wearied him to see the young running around while he did nothing.

The people formed a line as if they were familiar with the routine. Here today were those who had waited until the very last possible moment to leave. They had probably thought that it would not come to this. But it had. The tickets that were once freely available to anyone who registered were gone. Many in line had not registered at all and were now vying for the few empty spots left. Antoine could pick out the ticketless on sight. They shifted and moved nervously while standing in line with shared expressions of terror. Many had small children with them. They waited peacefully for their chance to be put into the lifepods of
The Trajan
and hoped for the long cryogenic sleep that would take them to a new home. Antoine studied their veiled faces. So many. So many. The administrators would try to find a place for everyone. It was possible that there would be many left behind. This would take a long time to sort out, maybe all day. There was nothing to do but wait. Good luck to them. Good luck to them all.

When Antoine was a boy, he used to envy those leaving. His stomach welled with excitement just thinking about it. But as the years went on, he came to the conclusion that he didn’t want to go, that he didn’t want to be chased off his homeworld. He took the vow like many others to remain on Earth until the end of his days. It was like a religion. Do you believe in Earth, or don’t you? Will you stay and defend her, or will you go? Earth first, Earth always — that’s what the oath takers said, and Antoine agreed. The creatures had left Earth, but if they ever returned they vowed to defend her.

But the days of arguing were done. Today was the last day. Either you were on
The Trajan
or you were staying. It was that simple.

Antoine felt a pang of guilt. It had been his father’s wish that his son go to the stars. The shades of doubt grew ever more dark in his mind. Maybe he should do as his father requested. He blinked the thought away.

One of the young men noticed Antoine standing alone. He walked over and gently touched Antoine on the arm. The boy had taken off his veil, revealing his heavy-lidded eyes. His head was round and shaped as if it were sculpted out of stone, his skin perfectly smooth. “Elder, maybe you should sit inside the shelter?” The boy attempted to guide Antoine into the tent.

“No, I’m fine where I am,” Antoine said. “Thank you for your concern.”

The boy took a stance that said that he wasn’t going away. They remained standing together in an awkward silence. Antoine scratched at the skin under his beard. His veil dropped down again. He moved it back into place.

Antoine didn’t really regret the vow he had taken all those years ago. He wondered sometimes if maybe he should have become a man more like his father, a man of quiet strength who bore the burdens of his life with a silent dignity. His dad was the greatest man Antoine had ever known. He hoped that he had told him that at least once. Maybe he could tell him that soon.

“Walk with me … uh? What is your name?”

“My name is Eliel.”

“Eliel,” Antoine paused for a moment, “I think that means ‘consoler.’”