Defying Doomsday, page 12
My first EVA. It’s beautiful out here, just me and the stars. I wonder idly which one the aliens came from.
Grasping the door with both hands, I manoeuvre myself with some difficulty so my feet are flat on the outside of the capsule. Now the drugs have kicked in, my head is swimming, my eyes are blurry but my limbs are steady.
On a count of three, I lift my helmeted head to the blackness and push away from the spacecraft. Let it follow the Tangerine Sky without me in it.
Will my ploy work? I wonder. It’s the diamond they want after all, not my ship, not even me. I watch the shimmering alien mass as I recede into the nothingness. Then slowly, surely, the jellyship shifts and swings about slow as a lunar day. It drifts closer. If I felt like bait before, now I come with added sugar.
Wait you.
I don’t think I shall. Catch me if you can. I laugh at them, a hideous gurgling sound. What will get me first, the vacuum of space or the ghostly invaders? Neither, I hope.
Unfortunately, the invaders have plenty of speed. It’s only manoeuvrability they lack. Soon they’re a pale and shimmering horror through my visor. Then the missiles come. My muscles tighten—perhaps they’re playing cosmic billiards, with me as the eight ball. I wonder why they have so much trouble snaring small but moving targets. Maybe they’re as fragile as they look, maybe they dare not approach. We know they have remarkable deflection technology; they’ve used it to repel every missile and weapon we’ve aimed at them, yet maybe they’re not invulnerable.
Still, it seems too much to hope that I could just punch them between the eyes.
I have my hands clamped on the SAFER control box. At least I don’t have to manoeuvre the entire spacecraft this time, just myself in the vacuum. I try to relax, then move the joystick. My movement is as smooth as it ever is, and that’s smooth enough. The little nitrogen-jet thrusters fire and navigate me away from the alien vessel.
Stop you.
No. What is so special about Earth’s diamonds anyway? I don’t expect a reply, but I’m a journalist, I have a pathological need to investigate.
They surprise me.
Diamond perfect carbon structure reflection of god.
I stare at the alien vessel as shifting shadows move within. It almost sounds like the ETs worship the sparkly gems. Strange. Or maybe not, considering how we ourselves hoard them.
Humanity worships diamonds too, in a way, I tell the invaders. Perhaps we worship them too much.
No you unearth you lacerate perfect carbon structures.
Lacerate. There’s a word you don’t hear every day in relation to diamonds. But surely this is it, the answer to the great puzzle at the heart of the invasion. They’re trying to protect the diamonds from us, not merely harvest them. Because we cut them, and sometimes destroy them, as we destroy so much.
So the invaders are moral beings, not just killing machines.
Still. We do genuinely cherish them.
You do not you are nothing.
And here was me thinking I’d found a new friend. My jaw tightens, I’m achieving nothing. As if to prove my point, another rock comes tumbling. Cursing, I activate the SAFER unit and blast myself aside.
I have limited propellant in the SAFER unit too. Maybe I’ve miscalculated. Even if I go on until they inevitably catch me, it might not be enough. Maybe the alien ship will still catch my sister’s shuttle. After all, would they really bother coming after me if they doubted they could catch the larger ship? I know for a fact there are diamonds on board, and the aliens have some unknown means of sniffing them out. They are the evil scientists; I’m the mouse in a maze. And yet, even the tiniest mouse has pretty big teeth.
Another asteroid, a really big one this time, comes hurtling towards me. All thoughts fly from my head as I struggle to avoid it but at least the SAFER unit is holding up. My sweat-soaked hair is sticky against my forehead. I wonder if the suit cooling system is working as it should.
Listen. What if I told you the stone around my neck was once a human being? Maybe it’s time I tried a different tack, more than cat and mouse, now we’re communicating. Humans are made of carbon, the same stuff as diamonds. We don’t just destroy diamonds, we manufacture them too—sometimes from our mortal remains. If you kill us, you’ll be killing future diamonds and those who make them.
Silence. They’re probably not even listening anymore. Maybe they’re just waiting for me to run out of fuel or air. And even if they’re listening, when does faith consider reason? I’ve never been one for believing in deities. Jennifer took the place of all such imaginary friends when I was six. Although right now a friendly god might have been useful to have around. The mirror on my wrist reflects the displays on my chest and those show all my supplies are running low: air, propellant, cooling water, all of it. I have a little drinking water left, though, so I take a sip, clenching my teeth on the plastic tube. A tepid dribble drips into my mouth, tasting of moondust.
And still they don’t respond. Though at least they haven’t thrown any more rocks.
The alien ship accelerates as I take a second swallow. It wobbles for a moment, goes extra blurry then hurtles away faster than I’ve ever seen. And it’s not going towards the shuttle, or Earth, or the Moon. It’s heading far out into deep space.
More of the jellyships appear from their stations about the Earth and pass before the Sun before vanishing into distant constellations.
Is that it? Have I done it, just like that? After terrorising humanity for five months, are they leaving without so much as a thanks for all the fish?
It seems hard to believe. Nothing has changed for me, I’m still floating here, hours from death.
But even if I’m doomed, the Earth will go on. And Lucy. I smile despite my predicament. Mother would have been pleased. Lucy was born through IVF when Mamma failed to accept the death of our father. People sometimes call me special but really they’ve got it all wrong, it’s my sister who is the special one. I close my eyes and remember how she cared for me when we were only kids, including that time she beat Sean Walker to a pulp in Grade Three for calling me a moron and putting beetles in my chicken tikka masala. Now at last I’ve returned the favour.
I think my air is failing. My thoughts are getting fuzzy and I’m turning sentimental. I could wake up Jennifer. Then I won’t die alone. But I dismiss that idea. No doubt she would be full of remorse. I’ll let her rest in peace; she’ll never know how much she disappointed me. I’ll just float here with my eyes shut and see what happens. Maybe I’ll just doze. I’m so sleepy.
* * *
I open my eyes with a gasp. I don’t see stars anymore, or Earth, or the Sun. I’m back in my capsule with the hatch shut and the cabin pressurised. My helmet is off too but that’s okay as there’s plenty of air in here.
I look through the window, and there’s the alien jellyship, hazy against the Milky Way. There’s the Tangerine Sky, too, whole and safe, within easy docking distance.
I stare at the jellyship. Did they come back to save me? They must have had a hasty conference and decided humans weren’t so bad after all.
I feel like the mass of a neutron star has been lifted from my back. I’m going to live, though I’m not sure why. Am I really that persuasive? A moment ago the aliens were acting like monstrous psychopaths, now they’re carrying out roadside rescues.
You please not lacerate diamonds.
I can arrange that. I promise. Perhaps it’s presumptive of me to promise on behalf of everyone but surely people aren’t so silly they’d refuse. It would mean the loss of an industry, but the survival of our species.
All humans keep yourselves safe.
Yes. We will. We certainly will.
We made error.
Oh really?
You easy to understand unlike others.
Well, that’s a laugh. Maybe I should go into the peace envoy business. And I laugh even more at the thought. It’s easy to communicate with them too, as scary as that is. Speaking with them is direct, immediate, like they have a hotline to my Wernicke's area. I don’t have to rely on Jennifer’s AI, which perhaps was never truly a part of me. I guess I’m more different than I thought.
I ask them for a formal interview. An interview with an alien. Wouldn’t that be the scoop of the millennium? It would surely get me a raise. Several raises.
Perhaps, they reply.
With that they disappear into the blackness and I’m left to wonder what might come next.
6
Two Somebodies Go Hunting
By Rivqa Rafael
Mum pushed them out the door, pretty much. It didn’t occur to either sibling that their mother might have done better if she’d gone hunting herself. But no, little Jackie had an ominous rattle in her chest and no one had heard from Dad for months, so it had to be them.
“She picked out two somebodies, Sally and me,” Jeff chanted gleefully.
Mum smiled. Lex scowled. “Mum, is he going to do that the whole time?”
“Probably.”
“It’s already not funny, Jeff.”
Jeff repeated the line.
“I think he disagrees,” Mum said. “Jeff, you need to look after Lexi, okay?”
Lex snorted, and Jeff nodded. “Yes, Mum.”
“And you need to look after Jeff, Lexi.”
Lex put on her big hat, Velcroing the brim out of the way for the time being. “Always do.”
Mum’s voice was tight. “I mean it. Be careful. Keep your high-vis vests on all the time, no matter how hot it gets. There might be other hunters.” There might be lawless scavengers who killed on sight, but Mum didn’t need to mention those. They could be anywhere; everyone knew that. You just had to hope they weren’t near you.
Mum scooped Lex and Jeff in for a hug. “Just stay safe; that’s the most important thing. And stay together. And stay clean.”
Lex kissed her mother’s cheek quickly and squirmed away. Mum looked at her quietly for a long moment and guided Jeff by the shoulder, out of the dugout to the quad bike. Following a couple of steps behind, Lex tried not to favour her right leg; shorter and misshapen as it was, it was hard to keep her gait even.
Jeff scrolled through the maps on his GPS with an intent expression, while Lex squatted down to help Mum check the supplies one last time.
A little gasp escaped Lex as she stood up. The chill of dawn was pleasant on her skin, but it wasn’t kind to her bones. The muscles around that old fracture twinged and pulsed with a deep ache.
“Next time, I’ll do that,” Jeff said.
“I’m fine,” Lex said. “You keep playing with your toy.”
“It’s not a toy. It’s going to get us there and back again, you know.”
Mum nodded. “Once you’re out there in the desert, it’s hard to tell which way is which. Got your compass just in case, Jeff?”
Nodding, he pulled it out from under his T-shirt to show her. “And the paper maps.”
“I think that’s everything.” Lex turned the bike to face the wattle orchard that surrounded their property, away from the town. It was far enough away that they weren’t likely to be spotted by its sparse population, but Lex would still be glad when they were really in the desert. It wasn’t often they had any sort of head start on a hunt.
Mum sighed, every line on her forehead visible. “You’d best get going then, before it gets too hot.”
Forcing a smile, Lex nodded.
Jeff tackle-hugged Mum and jumped on the quad bike.
“Jeff, I need to get on first. Get off.” Lex glared at her brother’s enthusiastic expression.
“O-kay, Sally.”
“Don’t call me that. Do you see any snow here? Or stupid cats in hats? Grow up, Jeff.” She gripped the handlebars tightly and threw her weaker leg over the seat.
Mum made a disapproving noise as Jeff clambered on behind Lex. She’d warned Lex time and again not to make fun of Jeff’s love of Dr Seuss, and not just because it meant he’d read to Jackie.
She ducked her head. “Ow, you’re pressing my leg.”
“Sorry, Lexi.”
Grunting an acceptance, she turned the bike on. “See you soon, Mum.”
“Yes.” Mum’s jaw was set straight, along with her shoulders. “Good hunting, kids.”
Lex could feel Jeff waving. “Bye, Mum! Love you!”
* * *
As Lexi drove them away, Jeff watched Mum over his shoulder, heading back into the house looking all droopy. “Do you think she’ll be okay?” he asked. He cuddled into his sister lopsidedly, trying to avoid her sore leg. Lexi was nice and squishy to cuddle, when she let him. Mum always cuddled him when he needed it, but she was bony in more places.
“She’ll worry about us, but she’ll be okay. We just have to do what she said, stay safe, so we can get back to her. Even if we don’t get the roo.” Lex’s tone was light, but there was a hard edge to it that made Jeff worry. There were lots of things that could go wrong, enough that he didn’t feel like joking around anymore. There might not have been any cats in hats around to cause trouble, but there weren’t any to magically solve their problems either.
He nodded, even though Lex wouldn’t be able to see. The sun was still rising behind them, bathing the desert ahead in pinky-orange light. He almost asked another question, “What about Jackie?” but instead just mouthed the words so that Lexi wouldn’t hear. He didn’t want to hear her answer. It wasn’t like he didn’t know, anyway, what it might be. Everyone did. Instead he looked down at the ground. The dirt was still brown here, still okay for growing things, but full of bugs too. Burkholderia. Clostridium. Sporothrix. Nasty bugs. He glared at them, then looked up because it made him nauseous.
Lex was asking him something. “…long will it take to get to the area?”
He started pulling the GPS out of his pocket, even though he didn’t need it to answer her question. “About five or six hours, depending on the wind in the dunes and that. Then we need to try and track him.”
“I know that.”
He put the GPS away, still switched off. “It’s a long shot, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Dunno why he’s on his own, either.” Lex shrugged. “Maybe he’s a reject. Lost a fight.”
“Maybe he smells.” Jeff giggled.
“As long as he tastes good, I don’t care. I can’t remember the last time I tasted meat.”
Bush gave way to red soil with the occasional scrubby plant. “Do you remember what chicken tasted like?”
She snorted. “I’m only two years older than you, Jeff. Chicken was banned when I was a baby. Bloody bird flu.”
“And MRSA. And VRE. And mad cow disease.” Jeff was glad he hadn’t been born yet. Mum had told him not to look at the pictures of all the dead animals, burned up so they couldn’t kill any more people. She said it was too gruesome for him. He knew it would upset him, so he listened to her, but sometimes he thought about looking.
“Well yeah, fuck that shit. Placentals, why’d they have to be so related to humans?”
Jeff couldn’t help himself; he gasped. “Don’t swear, Lexi. Mum doesn’t like it.”
“Mum’s not here.”
He whimpered.
“Fine. Don’t freak out on me, ‘kay?”
“I’m not freaking out.” He reached for the magnetic beads in his pocket, just in case. “I just want Mum to be proud of us.”
“She’s always proud of you. Don’t worry, Jeff.”
He’d meant “us” when he said it, but he let it drop. They drove in silence, any sounds that the desert might make covered by the scratch of the tyres against the sand. The wind wasn’t strong that day, not yet anyway, so everything was calm, just how Jeff liked it. It made the desert seem empty, which it wasn’t, not really. There were insects and lizards and tiny hopping mice and other marsupials, all creatures that were slowly regaining a foothold since so many humans had died. But the bike made enough noise to scare them off when it got close. A hopping mouse would make a nice pet, Jeff thought, even if Lexi would rather eat it as a snack, and Mum would look at him sadly and say it wasn’t practical. He’d seen mice a couple of times, and they had faces that looked like friends.
“Lexi?” Jeff rubbed his fingers together in careful circles. “Do you think it’s wrong to eat animals?”
“Nope. I think it’s delicious.” She chuckled at her own joke.
“North a bit now, Lexi.” An abandoned mining post lay a few kays ahead, and nasty scavengers might have claimed it. A rusting, crumbling poppet-head was just visible in the shimmering light. It might have been imposing once, or a good lookout, but now it was just a hazard, rubbish too big and unimportant to ever be cleaned up. “I know we need everything we can get. But what if we didn’t?”
She turned the bike to circumvent the danger. “Dunno. I’d probably still eat them, if I could. I mean, some of them would eat us.”
Jeff wasn’t sure if he’d seen people rise out of the shadows of the old tower, or just imagined them. He breathed out loudly as they zipped away. “Not in Australia, though, not anymore. What if that kangaroo’s an endangered species?”
They were clear of the mine. Lex actually turned to look at him quickly. “We’re an endangered species. Seriously, Jeff, if you’re going to do something stupid when we see this roo, try and stop me shooting it or something, I will turn this bike around right now. I’ll go by myself, no matter what Mum says.”
Pulling back from his sister as much as he could, Jeff shook his head. “I know we need it, all of us. But still…”
She exhaled loudly. “If wishes were horses, I wouldn’t have to share this bike with you. Come on, let’s take a break. I need to pee, and we should put some zinc on.”
* * *
It got hotter. Their skin had been burnt dark from years in the harsh sun, but Lex and Jeff were used to staying in the shade in the middle of the day. Sweat mingled with the stripe of green zinc over Lex’s eyebrows and threatened to drip in her eyes, but dried too fast to get there. Which was lucky, because Lex couldn’t think of much worse than sand-studded zinc in her eyes. The heat lessened the ache in her leg, but feeling like a dried-up piece of leather did nothing for her overall comfort. “How close are we to the place the drone spotted him?”
