Chapter 17
The Earth base was in the middle of a large mountain range, but was built on a huge, flat plateau. The first settlement and the safe zone around the Earth base were all on the same extensive plateau. The geographic metaphor was vast and appropriate; a large flat plain within the rocky and dangerous mountains. Leaving the dome of the Earth base, everywhere you looked on the horizon were majestic mountains, but the plateau around it was flat.
I was out on the flat plain running towards the settlement. Behind me was the round glass bowl of the Earth base shining in the morning sun, surrounded by mountains. From this vantage point the dome was formidable and it spoilt the pristine view of the mountain range. --but I didn't look back to the dome for very long. I was looking ahead to the settlement which was visible at the far end of the plateau.
Around the entire plateau area, World Government troops kept vegetation cut to the ground. Around the town, some trees were allowed to grow; and I could see them along with the humble buildings of the town. There were attempts to give the town some ambiance, but you could see it was thrown together haphazardly. From a distance it looked like a decent little town, yet as you approached it looked crude, put together without any care, no real finishing touches--still waiting for the human touches that could only come with time. I ran hard. Adrenaline must've been pumping strongly through my system. It had to be a good mile across that plateau on foot, but I felt no fatigue. I knew who was in that town--and I feared the latest arrival in their midst.
As the town got closer, I could see the outskirts take more definition. There were several even rows of houses with some higher buildings towards the back of the town--towards the mountains.
I arrived in the town. I was surrounded by the buildings. Maybe it'd seem cozy under different circumstances. There was just enough superficial ambiance created to fool the sheep herded into this doomed town. The edge of town ended abruptly; the rows of identical houses stopping suddenly--like town planning was given only a minimal amount of energy. Along these edges, there were a few people on the streets. I almost ran into an old man. He looked at my gun and said, “Hey, I don’t want no trouble.” Backing away from me with his hands in the air, he looked backwards towards one of the entrances to a row house.
“Did you see a man run into town, probably injured? One who wasn’t here with the Exodus?”
“I don’t want no trouble,” he repeated, backing up a little more quickly to one of the houses. From that house, I could see an old woman looking at him and me in horror--gesturing for him to come in.
"Forget it," I said and he ran into the home, slamming the door.
I looked around. The only other people were a young couple, with strange haircuts and rebellious clothing.
“It’s important I find this man,” I said to them. “He's dangerous, dangerous to everyone in this town.”
The young man said, “He’s injured a little all right, hobbling on one leg, heading in that direction. I think he ducked into one of the buildings on the right. He looks mean man. I’d watch out for that dude.”
“You don’t know how right you are,” I said, running down the main street.
The main street contained a bunch of modest residential houses crammed together--identical entry doors and picture windows along both sides of the straight street. Looking inside, I could see lights being flicked on. The sounds of residents rising in the morning. One frightened old woman stared wide-eyed at me as I passed in front of her house. There were so many doors. He could've ducked into any one of them.
Then I heard the sound of a woman screaming.
It came from a little farther ahead. I ran up to the door. It was swinging open, the doorframe busted. I held my gun high in one hand, pushing the door open with the other. There in the middle of a modest kitchen, was a young woman, breathing heavily, panicked, but trying to keep quiet. My father had his arm securely locked around her neck. The room had a kitchenette and living room all together. I could see one of the kitchen chairs lying on its side--cracked down the middle. Glistening in the morning sun filtering through the front window of the house, was a knife blade; it was held in the white-knuckled fist of my father. He was holding the knife across the neck of the girl. She was looking at the blade, looking at me, crying.
“Does she look familiar?” my father said.
I looked deep in her panicked eyes. She looked at me. I did recognize her.
“Melissa?” I said.
“That’s right,” my father said. “Looks like I still have an ace up my sleeve.”
“You just never stop, do you. What makes you tick?”
“You wouldn’t understand. You’re too small-minded, sleeping with some whore, instead of concentrating on your destiny.”
“My destiny Dad, what is that?”
“You don’t have any now; you blew it a long time ago.”
“I bet you still have a destiny, don’t you Dad?”
“Stop calling me that?! I had to put up with it before--but you know better now!"
"Sorry to bother you Dad--old habits die hard. You shouldn’t have put that crap in my head if you didn't want it to take."
I looked at Melissa, the knife pressed against her neck, unable to speak.
“Why don’t you let her go? Why does your destiny always include hurting others?”
“Stop worrying about superficial details and think of the big picture!”
“The big picture—is that what you call it? The big picture of a clean Earth, free of all the vermin, the genetically inferior ethnics that ruin everything; the big picture of your heaven filled with perfect people, doing perfect things, perfectly. What happened to your big picture Dad? Wasn’t this grandiose madness started with the chosen people taken to the space station? But then what happened?”
“There are always phases to any big project."
“No, I’m sure the madmen who implemented that phase were just as sure as you are now that they had the solution to Earth’s problems.”
“You’re too simple to understand; the situation is more complicated than that. These people, barbarian terrorists, they still run free on the Earth. You were down here, you know it’s true. Look at the terrorists still attacking us, jealous of democracy and freedom, a bunch of religious fanatics. I know more about it than you could even fathom--not just Earth.”
“You leave the world in a state of anarchy, desperation; and when there are groups of angry fanatics that lash back at their tormentors, you use it as an excuse to punish everyone. You’re right, I’ve been on Earth. I’ve seen the warlords, the terrorist extremists, but I’ve also seen a lot of ordinary people, innocent people; trying to survive. Why do you keep dropping bombs on them?”
“We haven’t had many bombing campaigns recently, but we had to test our weaponry. Besides, with the development of the stronger bombs, these people were all expendable. If you hadn’t screwed everything up, we would've made a clean sweep. You messed up the first bomb, and now I can’t launch the others. It would've cleaned everything up.”
“Just let her go. She has no part in this.”
“Sure she has a part. Do you think I chose this house by mere coincidence? I made sure I knew her address all along. Now, you're going to let me go and take your shuttle; and she won’t get hurt.”
I steadied the gun in my hand. I already had it pointed square between his eyes; and I squinted, ready to fire. He looked at me, smiling. “You wouldn’t dare. You don’t have it in you. Besides, think a little. Don’t do anything rash, out of anger, just for yourself.”
“I’m not doing this for myself. I’m doing it for all of humanity.”
I fired my gun.
My hands were steady and the beam hit him square between his eyes. He fell over backwards, the knife clanging to the kitchen floor, his body smashing into the fridge. His face smouldered from the full power of my laser gun. Melissa cried out and ran towards me. She almost knocked me over. I looked at the hideous corpse of my father lying on the ground.
It was over.
And I felt only relief.
I was waiting for some preset circuit in my head to prompt some sort of appropriate emotion. I was sure that my eyes would have the image in front of them altered by some computer-generated graphics art software. I felt like a complete automaton, waiting for an electronic impulse to react—but nothing came.
Then, I felt the warmth of Melissa’s soft, quivering body, she grabbed me so tightly. I could feel her panicked little heart beating rapidly against mine. I felt her humanity, her frailty, and it made me sense mine. They had tried to build a perfect soldier. They had created an overly emotional young man.
I dropped my gun to the ground and wrapped my arms around Melissa. It felt good. She was crying and quivering when she said, “Why would he choose me to attack—why me?”
“Because he knew I cared about you.”
She moved her head from my chest and looked up in my eyes and smiled. It felt good to see that smile. It warmed a battered, abused soul.
The shuttle went by the street in front of us.
“Martina!” I cried, turning to run into the street.
“Where are you going? Don’t leave me here with this body.” Melissa pleaded, holding onto my arm, stopping me. I looked at her. She was frail as a dried plant leaf, beautiful to see, but could be crumpled to dust easily. I didn’t want to leave her. It felt comfortable, felt right.
“I need to go, but I’ll be back” I said.
“Do you promise?” she asked.
“I promise.”
I was out the door, looking down the street. Martina was cruising through the town slowly. I was about half way down the long straight street. I shouted out, “Martina, back here!” Walking out to the middle of the street, I could see residents warily looking out their windows--an intrepid few opening their front doors. I stood in the middle of the street, waving my arms.
I saw the hovercraft veer and come towards me. Within seconds, she flew over and landed the shuttle. Residents backed into their houses, looking on from behind their newfound fragile shelter. Martina opened the hovercraft doors and came out to see me.
“Where is he? You found him?”
‘I found him all right.”
Melissa came out of her house. She stood a few feet away from us.
“Who’s she?” Martina said.
“My father was holding her hostage. He always looks for any strategic advantage, any little benefit. He knew Melissa was my friend.”
Martina looked at me and then Melissa. She said, “Anyway, your father, where is he?”
“He’s… dead. We don’t have to worry about him.”
“Where—how?” Martina said.
“His body’s in there. I shot him. He had a knife to Melissa’s throat.”
“So, you saved her life, congratulations,” Martina said. There was a tone, a hint in her voice, which I couldn't understand. Melissa came over to me and slipped her arms around me again. It felt comfortable.
“I have to go,” I said to Melissa.
It was difficult prying her arms from me, but there was still so much to do. Our time together was so short, but Melissa was leaving a permanent impression on me; she had come at such a tumultuous, transitional stage in my life. Everything I counted on was whisked from underneath me, and I needed someplace to land.
She was beside me for a soft landing.
Martina and I went back to the shuttle. She didn't speak, just looked at me strangely with that cold look I couldn't figure out. We went back to the crashed shuttle. The young couple who had been in town was now out at the crash site. We landed just behind the couple and neither one noticed us at first, but then the girl tugged on her boyfriend’s shirtsleeve. He was mesmerized by the fallen vehicle and initially didn't react, but after several tugs, she got his attention. Both of them looked at us and the boy said with a chuckle:
“I guess you didn’t get your driver’s license very long ago?”
Martina was in front, and in no mood for his humour. She just glared.
“Sorry,” the boy said.
His girlfriend was tugging harder on his shirtsleeve now. She was pulling him away, back to the town, like a dog on a leash. As they were getting out of earshot, I heard her chastising him vehemently. The boy yelled, “What?” as they headed back to town.
Surprisingly, the shuttle was not really in very bad shape. There was a tail fin that was nicked during the battle. My father had managed to land it fairly well, skidding along the ground, probably saving his life. There didn't appear to be any major structural damage. It was just the tail fin that needed to be redone.
Inside all military vehicles was a structural remoulding kit with structural compounds to heat and shape elements for fixing such minor damage. Martina and I reworked the missing small tail fin. It took a few minutes, but soon enough, the second shuttle was fixed.
I looked at the Earth base looming large in front of us. I looked behind at the town and its outcast residents. The two extremes so close together, could I bring them closer together?
“We better get a move on,” Martina said. "There's a scanner drone from the dome."
Scratching my head, I looked at the two shuttles in front of us.
“Which one you want?” Martina asked.
“I’ll take the repaired one,” I said. "Before anything, I have business to take care of."