The Embers of Hope: A science-fiction thriller (Hibernation Series Book 2) Read online

  She tried to speak but her voice escaped her. Eventually she managed a few words: ‘Are we?’ She peered up, gooseflesh rippling over her skin. ‘Are we going…’

  ‘Yes,’ Reyland replied. ‘All the way.’

  Chapter 38

  Paul was pacing back and forth along the bank at the edge of the pond.

  ‘Goddammit!’ he exclaimed, causing a woman standing nearby to look up and then walk away, nervously glancing back over her shoulder. Paul waved an apology, then turned back to Nathan. ‘The Shiryaevo Vault,’ he whispered, eyes wide. ‘What the hell happened there?’

  ‘What do you think happened there?’ Nathan asked, carefully.

  ‘There were rumours, urban myths, I suppose.’ Paul shrugged. ‘Many discounted them but I listened.’ His face darkened with intensity, and he moved closer. ‘They tried to cover it up, said it was some kind of leak, an explosion, but I knew. It took a few months but then the stories began to surface. Locals claimed that a red-headed demon ripped the side of the building open, others said it drove everyone mad. Either way, I knew there was some truth somewhere. That sort of talk doesn’t happen if it’s a genuine accident.’ He paused and then whispered, eyes twinkling with excitement, ‘All I know is someone took on an army, single-handedly broke into one of the most secure facilities on the planet, and then they got away.’

  ‘All nice stories,’ Nathan said.

  ‘Yes, unbelievable, but often there is a truth to them.’ Paul sighed and finally sat down again. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s just one of the biggest unsolved mysteries and here I am with the man himself.’ His eyes were wide with anticipation. ‘Is it true?’

  ‘Yes, it’s true.’ Nathan felt better just saying it, admitting to someone that the vault had happened, then added quickly, ‘Well, some of it, anyway.’

  Paul shook his head. ‘I knew it.’ He laughed and placed a hand on Nathan’s shoulder. ‘What did you find down there?’

  Nathan ignored him; he had Paul’s attention and that was enough. ‘I don’t have long,’ he said, ‘so I’m going to be straight with you. Okay?’

  Paul nodded.

  ‘I need you to do something for me.’

  ‘Anything, just ask.’

  ‘I need a replicator.’

  Paul frowned, staring back at Nathan, seemingly waiting for something - perhaps a punch line - but then his eyes widened and his mouth fell open. ‘You’re serious?’

  ‘Yes,’ Nathan replied. ‘I need an accelerated replication. Grade one, the best there is. Can you get me one?’

  Paul rubbed the back of his neck as a deep furrow fixed across his forehead. ‘Honestly, I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I mean, Jesus, Nathan, replication? That shit is hard, not to mention costly.’

  Nathan was relieved to hear it wasn’t a flat-out no. ‘I have hard evidence,’ he said. ‘Documents, correspondence, top-secret briefings. Proof that Baden and the Government planned and executed two-way mind manipulation during Hibernation.’

  Paul’s mouth was still agape. ‘You’re serious?’

  ‘Deadly.’

  Paul shook his head, then he was up and pacing again. Nathan could sympathise. This kind of offer and subsequent challenge surely didn’t come along very often. ‘I need to know,’ he said, pressing him. ‘If there’s even a chance, I have to know.’

  ‘And what would you do if I said no?’ Paul asked, stopping and looking at him.

  ‘I would find someone else,’ Nathan admitted. ‘I need this.’

  Paul let out a long sigh before his words rolled, seemingly at the speed of creation. ‘I’m taking some people across the border; we have a meeting coming up in Dubai.’ He stopped momentarily, eyes flickering in thought. ‘It’s risky,’ he whispered, ‘all of it, risky as hell.’

  ‘I have no choice,’ Nathan sighed.

  ‘There’s a group – they’re mercenaries, really – but I know them, had some dealings with them over the years. They’re based in Oman, claim to have a working replicator, but I don’t know –’

  ‘Can you get me there?’

  ‘It’s not that easy!’ Paul shot back at him. ‘Do you know how much this is going to cost? A million at least!’

  Nathan observed him with a cool stare. ‘The data from the vault is worth more and you know it. Think about what you could do with that kind of information, that kind of proof. It could turn the tide.’ He paused, allowing Paul to absorb the deal. ‘Speak to your people, find the money.’

  Paul seemed to drift away, lost in thought, but there was a flicker of fire in his eyes. Nathan thought of Jen in that moment. Like Paul, she’d believed she could blow the deception wide open and then somehow stitch the world back together again.

  ‘You have your DNA encoded?’ Paul’s voice was businesslike.

  ‘Yes,’ Nathan lied. ‘Get me to a replicator and I will give you the files, everything I found in the vault.’

  ‘What if I can’t?’

  Nathan stared at the koi, moving like silk shadows beneath the water. He didn’t reply, just left Paul’s question hanging in the air. His concentration was dissipating again, drifting like smoke on the wind. He reached for the pills in his pocket but stopped; he didn’t have many, they needed to last. He was getting worse – no question – and he suspected that soon moments like these would be followed by memory loss, waking in unfamiliar places.

  ‘Nathan?’ Paul sounded some distance away. ‘I’ll do my best, okay?’

  ‘Just don’t take too long,’ Nathan replied. ‘It needs to happen soon.’

  Chapter 39

  ‘These will be enough?’ Zitagi tugged at her jumpsuit, all pockets and logos. ‘We don’t need space suits?’

  ‘We aren’t going to land, we’re going to orbit her.’ Reyland smiled. ‘It’s the best way to see it.’

  The ascent to the space station had taken less than an hour. During that time they had changed into the familiar grey jumpsuits – worn by astronauts she’d seen on the news and documentaries – but spoken very little.

  As the world dropped further and further away, Zitagi felt the weight of her life increasing. It felt heavier up here somehow, the opposite of how it should feel.

  They slowed. Zitagi looked down once more at the milky blue and white of Earth – it looked like an oil painting, distant and fixed – and then up at the dark underbelly of the Hub, outlined by a brilliant array of golden solar panels that grew from its sides like shining petals.

  The pod crept up through a circular hole and was consumed by a large hangar. There was a heavy metallic clang followed by the hiss and whir of busy machines as they went to work. A few minutes later, a circular hatch above them rotated and opened and a face appeared; it was an astronaut, and he was smiling.

  ‘Welcome aboard,’ he said cheerily.

  Zitagi followed Reyland up the adjoining ladders and out into a hangar, which was large and dome-shaped. It seemed somehow familiar – probably a mixture of previously absorbed footage and her own imagination – and had enough artificial gravity to keep them grounded and able to walk. There were three other airlocks, designed to receive cargo pods or lifts like the one they had travelled in. The other two airlocks were currently empty. The place reminded Zido of an oil rig – metal walkways and piping – albeit a painfully white and very clean version.

  The astronaut stood formally and greeted them with a salute. Reyland saluted back, and then shook the man’s hand with a warm smile. ‘Nice day for a ride, Mike.’

  The astronaut agreed. ‘Yes Sir, it is. We’re all set.’

  They walked through tight corridors and then paused at a crossroads where a team of crew members were discussing something, staring into screens, brows furrowed. Zitagi took a moment to look out of a small circular window. She leant in, pressing her face to the cool glass, and stared out at the millions of tiny lights pricking the inky black canvas of space. She followed the line of the station’s exterior down along the tunnel in which they stood and saw a small spacecr
aft docked there. It was thin and bug-like, with a bulbous head. Its single rear engine glowed red like an iris on fire and in the distance their destination shone with promise, a silver penny at the bottom of a dark wishing well.

  Zitagi tore herself away and they walked, bouncing now in almost zero gravity towards the final hatch at the end of the tunnel. The astronaut entered the shuttle and turned right towards the cockpit. Reyland pointed at a row of passenger seats, four on either side of the small craft, and they made their way to the rear.

  Before Zido had time to overthink the enormity of her situation the ship’s door closed, sealing them inside.

  Reyland glanced around. ‘She was originally built for space tourism.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Zitagi replied. That was a thing of the past now.

  The pilot – busy pressing and clicking – called back, instructing them to buckle in for departure. He sounded exactly like an airline pilot, in control, as if this were routine. Zitagi turned to Reyland. ‘Sir, I can’t quite believe we are here.’

  ‘The first time is strange, but you will get used to it.’

  The thrusters kicked in and with the smallest sensation of movement they left the Hub. A large window in the side of the ship offered an incredible view. The engines pushed on and for a while no one spoke. After a while, Reyland touched her arm gently. ‘How are you feeling about what I told you?’

  ‘Numb,’ Zitagi replied. ‘I still don’t really understand.’

  ‘It’s a lot to take in.’

  Zitagi looked over at the pilot. His seat was raised up on a platform, his cockpit a large round bubble lit by projected colours and numbers. He was twenty feet away but still within earshot.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Reyland assured her. ‘All of the crew know about the project. They’re all part of its success.’

  ‘Project?’

  He smiled as the pilot called back, instructing them to expect a little pressure. A few seconds later the ship accelerated rapidly and Zido caught another glimpse of the moon through the cockpit. The shadows of its craters were visible now and she watched it grow, the ship travelling at incredible speed towards it.

  An hour later, they were locked in orbit around the moon, the ships viewing window angled for maximum impact. Zido unbuckled and stood gazing out in wonder at the surface below, a pockmarked landscape that was so instantly familiar, yet alien, to her.

  ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ Reyland said.

  ‘It is. I never believed I would see it so close.’ Zitagi’s chest was tight with emotion and she felt the unusual sensation of tears pressing at the back of her eyes.

  ‘She protected us for so long, pulled our tides,’ Reyland pondered. ‘There is a certain irony, I think, that it should be the moon that saves us.’

  Tiny thrusters fired, moving them slowly over the surface. Moments later, breaking over the horizon, she saw it – the Helium 3 processing plant. It was a sprawling cluster of single-storey buildings joined together by tunnels and landing pads, surrounded by giant silos and deep harvester tracks that spread out over the surface like a ragged starburst. There were busy machines, stripping the precious energy from the top layer of the soil.

  Zido turned to Reyland. ‘It’s time; tell me what’s going on. What are we doing with the Helium 3?’

  Reyland nodded. ‘We’ve been using it here.’

  ‘On the moon?’

  ‘Yes. For the last twenty years we’ve been building.’

  ‘Building?’ Zitagi leaned in, her face drawn in concentration. ‘Where?’

  ‘On the far side of the moon.’ Reyland said. ‘I’m taking you there now.’

  Chapter 40

  The shuttle dipped out of sunlight, continuing its orbit, entering space above the dark side of the moon. Although this hemisphere always faced away from Earth, it received its share of sunlight, so it wasn’t completely dark.

  She watched as the Earth, a beautiful blue eye, was obscured by the rocky, dark surface of its moon. She considered the billions of people, so far away now, so small. The sense of perspective was astonishing. She felt like a god up here, like an alien observing a new planet.

  ‘Is there no way to save them?’ she asked.

  ‘It will take some time to accept, but no,’ Reyland replied. ‘It’s too late to undo what is done.’

  She peered into the distance, the moon’s surface a pale grey, broken occasionally by tall mountains and large craters. The ship’s thrusters fired three brief bursts that rotated the craft. Zido looked out at a massive basin as big as the Grand Canyon. It reminded her of an exit wound, exploding outward. Around its edge were pathways cut into the lunar soil, spreading out in all directions. Harvesters and trucks – much like the machines working on Earth – were moving to and fro in industrious harmony. As the shuttle approached, the true depth of the crater was revealed, and it opened slowly like the black eye of a sleeping whale.

  ‘This is the Aitken Basin,’ Reyland said.

  She turned to him briefly but couldn’t take her eyes from the crater for long. As they crossed the outer edge she saw it wasn’t dark inside; there were slabs of light, jutting up like giant feet, spaced evenly around the bowl. She saw flickering shapes, like a shoal of silver fish, millions of them lit by the sun and perimeter lights. They moved quickly, at first seemingly disorganised, but on closer inspection they were working, gliding with a chaotic kind of symmetry.

  ‘What are they?’ she whispered.

  ‘Construction droids.’

  ‘What are they building?’

  A silver craft - like a ball bearing - ejected from the side of the shuttle, a light blue trail of gas pluming from its engine. It sped down towards the crater like a missile and for a brief moment looked as though it might crash into its centre. It slowed and a brilliant ray of white light burst from its tip. The wide arc of light revealed the first section of a bone-like structure reaching up out of the hole like a skeletal hand. The tiny craft proceeded slowly, like a submarine through deep water, as if lighting a wreck lost for centuries. This was no lost vessel, though; this was a ship under construction. The light beams searched and rolled over the metallic surface of the strange structure. Only when it hit a panel, a completed section of the huge object, did Zido truly understand.

  It was a ship, a colossal vessel the like of which she had never seen. Even the biggest cruise-liners or the largest algae processing plants on Earth couldn’t compare. She saw sparks fizzing, oranges and whites, busy droids at work. There were buildings, too, and man-made caverns lit icy blue, hangars filled with ships and everywhere, activity. She could see astronauts floating around the vessel, their jetpacks firing in all directions. The combination of the lights that surrounded the craft and the tiny searchlight travelling through its centre revealed its overall shape. It was long and thin with a core structure that appeared to be almost complete. In the centre was a circular cluster of domes in various stages of completion.

  Zitagi finally tore her gaze away from the scenes below. She turned to Reyland. ‘It’s an ark.’

  ‘Yes,’ he replied simply. ‘Our last hope.’

  ‘How has this remained a secret for so long?’

  Reyland folded his arms and inhaled deeply. ‘We can control what people think they know. Everything: access to satellites, research, the Hub. When the space program shifted’ – he nodded at her – ‘you remember? It was all about Helium 3, all about funding the moon program.’

  ‘I remember.’ Zitagi’s voice felt thin, like an echo.

  ‘We had to keep this secret.’ He shot air from his nostrils and shook his head. ‘Can you imagine telling the world that the good ship Earth was going down? That everyone was going to drown, bar a select few on the one lifeboat available? Can you image the anarchy? The panic?’

  Zitagi could, only too well. ‘How many will it hold?’

  ‘Six thousand. Three pods, each one containing everything we need to start again.’

  ‘Why three?’

/>   ‘We want to give mankind the best odds at starting again. There are three possible planets; the plan is to reach them all if we can.’ He paused and then walked closer to the window. Dark shadows crept over his face. He stared out. ‘Do you believe in God, Zido?’ he asked.

  Zitagi’s eyes narrowed. ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘Neither do I, yet sometimes I wonder if this was all part of a plan.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘To make the ark we needed huge funding, complete unity. I mean, every nation within the UN zones has been building parts, not even knowing what they are for. Every scrap of Helium 3 is being used and stored up here. There have been no questions, no problems. For the first time in history we have a form of communism that works.’ He was shaking his head, almost laughing. ‘We’re like a hive, joined in purpose. Without the Histeridae, none of this would have been possible, we wouldn’t have Hibernation, would never have been able to control people.’ He turned to her and added, ‘And we’ve been searching, too.’

  ‘For what?’ Zido asked, trying to keep up.

  ‘Candidates,’ he said. ‘If we are going to start again we want to ensure we take the best, the most balanced. We need a version of mankind that won’t make the same mistakes.’ His expression fixed on her, burrowing deep in a way that only he could. ‘We can’t make them again, we mustn’t. Each Hibernation cycle brings us closer to the final, chosen few.’

  Jameson’s voice echoed through her mind. Where will you be when it all ends? Had he known? Zido felt as though something was trapped in her throat. She took shallow breaths and tried to steady herself.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Reyland asked.

  Zido shook her head and turned away.

  ‘It’s a lot to take in,’ he offered. ‘I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I simply couldn’t.’ He paused. ‘This has been my life for the last two decades.’