The Spiral Road, page 55
part #1 of The Spiral Roads Series
“Take it up to fifteen thousand, let’s see what we can see then.” Major Thompson told the operator, who complied. As the view widened out, the ocean finally became visible, a steely green mirror floating closer as the drone flew towards the coast. The operator stopped following the river canyon, which lay below like a tiny ribbon on a vast table. As the drone flew on, various technical specialists came by to see the feed. A geologist on the team was enthralled, pointing out the lack of features on the plain to one side of the canyon.
“No sign of glaciation, drop stones, not even any old volcanic features…” he muttered to himself, clearly amazed. The vegetation continued to change as the drone approached the coast, while the land dropped further in elevation. Giant ferns, bromeliads and palms began to appear, as well as vast stretches of golden-orange grasses, with swaths of lime green and purple. As the coast closed in, the river finally left the confining canyon, spreading out over many miles into a wide delta. Swamps appeared, reeds grew in wide marshes. The operator brought the drone lower.
“That looks like good farmland, once it’s drained.” one man said, as he looked at the images.
“It looks as if some of it still is.” the operator said, indicating the screens. There, in the middle of the delta as it approached the coast, sat a city. It had hundreds of large buildings visible, rising above the dry central section of the delta. It sat on a slightly higher promontory, overlooking a small drop to the sea. The massive river delta drained into the ocean on either side, spreading out for miles in channels and backwaters. In the center of the city was a massive pyramid, larger even than the ones at Giza. The drone operator flew down into the delta, skimming closely over the city. It was clear from the images that it, too, was uninhabited. Vegetation and weather had worked their depredations, and many of the buildings showed damage from some form of catastrophe. Tumbled piles of stone showed where foundations had collapsed, or roots had eaten the rock away.
This produced a frenzy of activity. The Major and the Captain went into a close conference a few feet away, while Markley got one of the soldiers to radio back to the complex and have someone alert Cynthia. She might not get here for the live feed, but he knew she would be reviewing it as soon as possible. The Major returned, and spoke to Markley.
“I have organized a scouting expedition to the city, led by Captain Ogle and his team of Exo Troopers. They will move fast, ignore the intermediate ruins, and head to the coast to explore the city. They will set up a base camp, until we ascertain whether it would be safe to relocate the refugees there. There looks to be enough room for everyone, and the ocean and delta should help provide local food sources. I would rather not have them subsist on our supplies solely, at least until we know how long we might be here.” he said.
“Damn, I wish I could go, but I have to stay here with the team in the pyramid, at least until we decide we aren’t going to get the door open or do.” Markley told him.
“Unless you are trained to wear an exo-suit and cover eighty kilometers a day, I wouldn’t advise it. I wish we had our ultralights, but they’re somewhere in the supply chain, behind us.” Ultralights, small hang-gliders with frames and engines used by military forces for insertion missions, could get a team to the city in a single day. Overland, it might take the Captain and his men three or four days to cover the distance.
“Sir! You need to see this!” The operator had circled the city, taking many angles and views on the digital camera recorders. Then he had gained altitude and leveled off, pointing the drone back at the mountain behind them. The image was displayed on the screen for all present to gasp at. The view showed the massive river delta now directly ahead, and the coastal city disappearing below as the drone headed back inland. The look-down view was still showing passing swamps and sandbars, but the heads-up view ahead showed an unbelievable sight.
The cliff behind them, high as it was, was a thin, dark ribbon, extending away in the distance, curving gently away as it went from one horizon to the other. The coast could be seen curving inwards slightly as it stretched away into a haze, wrapping the visible land in a soft embrace. Above the ribbon of granite cliff face, rose something too large to be called a mountain. A small moon appeared to be embedded into the surface of the planet, or emerging from it. The cliff face was the disjointed rim, where the mass had been thrust out of the planet in a violent upheaval never seen in our solar system. The mountain was as wide as a continent, rising at a gentle, mild slope from the edge of the up thrust cliff fault. It kept rising, through the aquamarine sky. A white skirt of ice and snow girdled it completely, only fading away as the mountain rose away over the horizon, the peak so far away that it wasn’t visible from any height lower than space. It was too large, too massive to be called massive. It dwarfed the imagination, because it was simply the largest thing an eye could take in, and still not see all of it. The sight of it silenced them all, only the sound of insects and canopy-dwellers intruding. Into the hush, the geologist yelled an astounded comment.
“It’s a Tharsis bulge… and it dwarfs the one on Mars!” The man capered and danced, clearly ecstatic over his luck. Everyone else stared, and then gazed back at the towering cliffs, suddenly aware of the weight of all that rock and ice, poised overhead.
As the long evening closed in, the blazing skies put on their show, with vast sheets of bright stars in the Orion Nebula sending long beams of light between the lanes of dust and gas. Markley finally found Nia as he headed for the commissary, to grab an evening meal. She was also heading to the well-lit tent, drawn like him to the warmth and humanity. There they sat together, as he told her all about the incredible sights the drone had revealed. She responded with enthusiasm, but not her usual upbeat take on events. Her words were hollow, her mind obviously elsewhere. After a while, he ran down and noticed her distant gaze, and touched her face, drawing her eyes into his own. He was struck again with how deep and mysterious they were, as though they held a knowledge given to women alone.
“What’s wrong? I know I’m rambling; I don’t mean to. Tell me how to make it better?” He worried that the transition was too much for her. She seemed burdened somehow. He had his pursuits to keep him from worrying about the distant family he left behind. He thought maybe the idea that others weren’t as lucky as they had been disturbed her.
“I’m okay.” Nia smiled at him, a little forced. Then she grabbed his hand, and moved it to her cheek, holding it there for a moment. “Just take me back to the tent, please. Let me feel you for a while.” Bewildered, but willing, he bussed their cutlery and cups. They walked back to their tent arm in arm, watching the glorious stars of this world unreel above them.
There, in the darkness, she made love to him with a ferocity he had yet to experience from her. She was focused, relentless, and each time she came she ground herself against him, clawing to extend the timeless moment as long as she could. He gave as much of himself as he had to give, and more, hoping to meet her in bliss, or at least help her achieve it. Eventually, she let him rest, in the blessed afterglow of their satiated bodies. While it may have brought Markley the peaceful sleep he deserved, Nia lay awake for a long time, wrapped in his arms, gazing into the darkness.
47
President Aiden Rome rode on a buckboard wagon, with his wife and bodyguard relaxing in the rear. He sat beside Max Barger, while they clopped along the glassine tunnel, crystal glints of color reflected back at them. They were the very last wagon in line, and Aiden had ordered even the last remaining science teams and soldiers to proceed ahead of them. This was partially due to Max, who had insisted that he bring up the rear. Aiden had not felt like abandoning the man to the lonely position of tail-end Charlie. It also appealed to his inner sense of rightness. It was only fitting that he rode shotgun, make sure every last straggler was safely ensconced in the center of this marvelous construct, before he took up residence with them.
He had learned much about humility in the last few days, as their wagon had spiraled around and around, following Tim and Alan, strolling hand in hand ahead of the mule team. Beyond them William Henry and his aide, Chauncey, walked with the pace appropriate to their distinguished natures. In front of them stretched rows of bobbing heads, some scientists, the rest soldiers and the last few straggling civilians far ahead. Each time they all came into a waystation facility, to be welcomed with places to bed down for the night, they would stop for rest. Aiden and Max, along with Cliff and the rest of their party waited until it was broken down and marched away ahead of them, each day as they began the journey again. He spent his evenings speaking to those fleeing the destruction outside, and coming to feel their pain as his own.
Leaders were only able to lead when they shared the plight of their people. It was clear to him now that his country had failed just as thoroughly as any. They had allowed the rich and powerful to rule them, elected officials turning a blind eye to the injustices served up to the population. Their children did not serve in the military, their families did not go hungry during a crisis, were not affected by fire, floods and famine. Until this disaster, of course, and where were those vaunted leaders now? Scrambling to find adequate shelter for themselves and theirs, just as he had been forced to do.
A perversion infected humanity, one that allowed it to harm itself, take advantage of the weak in a way that was not evolutionarily useful, simply exploitative. It had ruled them for some time, infesting every level of organization, and had helped eliminate a great number of people in the process. The blind ambition and misguided attempts to elevate small numbers of humanity into super-beings was doomed to failure, a trap for the small-minded. Hitler had made a similar effort. The conversation Aiden had with Garvey Hoskins haunted him. The man had raved about shadowy organizations, referenced the Illuminati. As far as Aiden knew, that cult was mostly popular among the rich and famous, billionaires and moguls flashing it’s sign in pictures, but he had always assumed it to be on par with the Scientologists. Nothing more than a subculture trend, or some aged and irrelevant fraternity, like the Masons. Now, he was wondering if the rest of the world had also been blind to their manipulation. That much money meant a lot of power, and if these misguided goals were prevalent among them, they could do a great deal of damage. In what manner remained to be seen, but he had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that something horrible would come out of Omega. He felt a burning need to get back there as soon as possible.
“Wanna talk about it, yet?” Max asked, out of thin air. Aiden turned to him, the larger man looming beside the smaller figure in his suit. Max still wore his overalls and white collared shirt, with a CO-OP hat in bright red perched on his thinning dome.
“Talk about what?” Aiden asked, innocently. Max chuckled, and replied,
“Thought not. Take your time.” He looked away and clucked to the mules, who didn’t change their plod one iota, as far as Aiden could see. He sighed, and looked back at the spiraling tunnel that seemed to go on forever in front of him, always curving away in the distance. Not such a distance now, though.
“It’s classified.” He hoped the farmer would drop it.
“Oh, is it now? Well, I understand. I could be a spy.” The man didn’t even crack a smile. Aiden stifled his chuckle at the concept.
“Yes, Putin has double agents everywhere, and your corn has ears…” At this, Max did smile, and glanced over at the President of the United States, humbly riding his buckboard with him like a regular man.
“That’s a really bad joke, Aiden.”
“Call me Haywood when it’s just us, Max. Only my wife and Science Advisor call me Aiden, these days anyway.” He thought of his dead mother, briefly.
“Okay, Haywood.”
“I still don’t want to talk about it.” Max kept his gaze straight ahead, as he nodded again.
“Okay, Haywood.”
Later, after they came to a halt for the evening rest, if one could tell time accurately in the twinkling cavern, Aiden asked Max to walk with him. They walked away from the station, already in the first stages of their ordered breakdown. Retreating to the rear of the line, they walked beyond the tethered wagon and supply carts. As they did so, Cliffe emerged from the throngs, shadowing them until he stationed himself by the wagons, to stand guard from a distance. There, in the fantastic emptiness of the strange Object, Aiden related the events preceding their arrival in Nebraska. How the hidden bunker came to be in the first place, how the elite had been about to shelter there in safety and comfort, how the secret had galled him for the years since his election. Then he told Max about the monster who had usurped the underground city, and what he feared the inhabitants there might do, might be suffering even now. He told Max that he felt responsible, and that he didn’t feel he had served the people well.
“If what you tell me is true, you failed only when you didn’t reveal the bunker in the first place, Haywood.” Max told him, clearly sympathetic, but unwilling to coddle the man. “If you came to me for forgiveness, you’ll have none. ‘Tisn’t up to me to give it. There are poor souls who deserved that refuge more than the high and mighty, and you knew it before the hammer fell. It’s them you’ll have to appease, their loss that will meet you in your hereafter. I don’t envy you, Aiden Haywood Rome, President of the United States of America. It isn’t for the likes of me to tell you how to run a country, but it seems not a one of you politicians have ever been completely honest with those of us in the muck and mire.” He shook his head, stomping away from the smaller man, turning immediately to face him again. The President admitted it all.
“You’re right Max. And now I’ve let that evil bastard, Hoskins, take the place over.” Max waved his statement away.
“Bullshit, that worm would have slickered any of you!” He snorted in derision. “I’ve been trading hosses and mules with his like for years. When I saw him on the news, I knew he was the kind to paint a nag with shoe polish and call her a thoroughbred. His type doesn’t play by ANY rules, and he only plans on getting caught after he’s long gone. He knows exactly which buttons to push to make you take out your wallet. Trust me, Haywood, you didn’t fail your country, or the people in that respect. He was always going to walk away with the pot, and in this case, maybe you all got what you deserved for your prideful deceit. This will work out in the end, you’ll see.” The big man laid his hand on the Presidential shoulder, and squeezed in companionship. Aiden thought he felt bones grind together, but held his stance.
“I don’t see how, Max. When we come out of wherever this tunnel takes us, we face centuries of ice and snow, God only knows what number of surviving people needing our help, and a devastated infrastructure. How do I put a country back together from those ashes?”
“My Daddy always told me, ‘Son, when you can’t see the way forward, you have to trust that the path ahead is still there.’ I think that’s the best advice he ever gave me. It’s all I have to offer you.” Max stepped back, and stood with his hands in his pockets. He couldn’t have looked any more done with the subject if he had hung a ‘Closed’ sign around his neck. Aiden realized that the man had indeed given him his best advice, for the situation. He would have to walk the path ahead, even if he couldn’t see where it led, or how he would arrive at the end.
He fervently hoped that Garvey Hoskins’s path led him straight off the edge of a long drop.
It would take the output of every movie studio in the world working round the clock for a century to produce every epic tale, every tragic failure, every pathos-riddled story of the survivors of the gamma-ray burst. And still they could only portray a hundredth, a thousandth of the actual loss and catastrophe. The first few days after the Objects disappeared, much of the planet was still in communication with one another. Ham radios, limited hardened networks, a few remaining satellites, re-tasked to provide a kind of primitive telecommunications network, these provided the links. Military vessels, submarines surfacing to relay reports, even balloons sent aloft with repeaters, designed to broadcast long distances for a short time. It didn’t take long for the remaining shelters to receive word that those who had fled to the Objects were gone. Bereavement was common among the first reactions.
But as the environment continued to worsen, as people began to starve, as shelters began to fail, or run out of key goods, the sentiment began to change. Those of suspicious nature started to notice that the families of the military were gone as well, along with many of the young, the medical professionals and technically skilled. Even as the networks failed, the cries of conspiracy rose, the last few remaining links loudly proclaiming the guilt of the Traitors, those who left the weak behind to die. Those who weren’t yet weak used this anger and resentment, to gather the remainder to them, in small roving bands. These preyed on the truly weak, raiding and pillaging for supplies.
The snow fell for months, whitening the globe, reflecting UV back into space, doubling the already doubled albedo, the surface inhabitants struggling to adapt. Movement at night was impossible due to the cold, but the days were so bright it could easily blind the unwary. A few minutes without smoked goggles could do permanent damage. Old ways of hunting were being rediscovered, as ammunition for firearms ran low, or became damp and unusable. Many of the weapons failed in the cold temperatures. Recovered swords and blades became sought after. Bows and arrows worked, although the modern strings were carefully hoarded. All kinds of formerly useless things came back into common use, while the modern era items quickly lost their utility. Batteries failed quickly, as did solar chargers. Available gasoline, already becoming less popular, had all but run out within a year, most burnt in crude heaters.
The rest of the world fared little better. The same rapid descent down the ladder of civilization occurred everywhere. Chinese peasants were killed and eaten by North Korean villagers. Russians in small caves and underground shelters held lotteries, winnowing down the population by taking in their protein. Survivors in a bomb shelter in Kansas tunneled nearly a thousand yards through the packed snow to break into a neighboring shelter and take all of their food, leaving them to freeze to death before they could repair their walls. Ugandan refugees roasted the smallest children over coals in pits, and shared them out equally, since they would never survive the harsh conditions and lack of food themselves. Most of them died soon anyway, from the intense radiation they were exposed to each day, causing skin cancers to bloom and rage.
