The Unearthing (54 page)

“The fundamentalists are all up in arms,” Santino said sadly, “We’re going to see problems; another Night of Blood at the very least. Revealing that truth to the world may have done more harm than good. That’s
why
I voted against revealing that knowledge. Look at what’s going on in India and Pakistan: the Islamic and Hindu fundamentalists have been fighting escalating clashes for weeks; it looks like something’s going to happen in Israel between the Orthodox Jews and Christians.”

“There’s never going to be complete peace Paul,” Sharon consoled him, “But there will be considerably less conflict, less bigotry. People are truly realizing, probably for the first time in world history that we are all one race and that we all believe in the same divinity, expressed through different cultural traditions. The message is the same for all of us.”

“Things will still get bad here,” He said, meaning on Earth, “They’ll get very bad before they start getting better.”

“But they
will
get better,” Sharon said. “This time, they really will. War Four is not going to happen.”

Santino leaned back in his chair.

“They said the same thing about War Three after the War of Attrition ended and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics collapsed. Then one lunatic ordered suicide bombers to nuke New York and another took control of the White House,” He said.

Chief Raven smiled. “That’s what I’m going to miss most about you when you’re gone Paul,” She said, “You’re such a fucking optimist.”

♦♦♦

Colonel Margaret Bloom looked out at the Ship from the now-familiar vantage of the running track that skirted its southern edge. The Shipsong sounded heavily in her ears, echoing off the canyon walls created by its unearthing.
Two months
. It had been two months since Benedict informed her of the Committee’s plans and about a month since those plans had been confirmed to her by private communiqué from the World Ship Summit telling her that she was on a “short list” of candidates to command the Shipflight back to its Homeworld. She’d been sitting on this information all this time, as per orders from the Summit, until the list of command candidates was made public. She’d even refrained from discussing the matter with Laura, although that was for entirely different reasons. Bloom did not expect her daughter to want to join her aboard the Ship. Her reasons would probably be similar to Professor Andrews’s reasons, in the long run. That would mean Bloom would be faced with choosing between her daughter and the Ship.

Any voyage from Earth to the Ship’s Homeworld would have the potential of taking several years, perhaps even several decades. Bloom had once applied for the Mars missions; they were considered long-term space missions, lasting up to four years; that was just a trip to the next planet and back. The Ship literally came from a galaxy far, far away. Bloom might be gone the rest of her life if she took command of the Ship. That would mean depriving herself of her daughter and worse, depriving her daughter of her. But at the same time she wanted the Ship so badly. From the first time she’d laid eyes on it the Ship had been her most intimate companion; around her day and night, serenading her to sleep, providing alien background sight and sound for her morning runs…the Ship was ever-present and she could no longer imagine life without it; more addictive than any drug.

Bloom hated herself for even feeling like there was a choice to be made; she knew her daughter should take precedence over all; if she could die to save Laura’s life she would. There was almost nothing she would deny Laura and nothing she wouldn’t do for her daughter’s well being. But when it came to the Ship…Oh, how she wanted all the Ship had to offer. But not at the cost of her soul; not quite. Bloom closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose. She imagined that the dry desert air was somehow infused with the Ship, that she was breathing it in. Millions of years old, it had counted the distance between stars a million times over and could probably count those distances a million times more. Oh Lord, how she wanted to be in it when it flew.

♦♦♦

Doctor Kodo inhaled the deep, musky vegetable smell of Habitat’s jungles. Work was under way to begin furnishing homes along the Equator for Human use. Parkland and farmland were being generated by the Ship to support their needs and part of the primordial jungle of Habitat was being cleared, tamed and domesticated for the use of Humanity on the long voyage back to the Ship’s Homeworld. Kodo spent as much time as he could in the unspoiled jungles of Habitat. He had seen to it that the displaced plant and animal species, most of them unique to the Ship, were transplanted either to the botanical gardens, biodomes and nature preserves around the world. There was no question for Mark Kodo as to whether or not to remain with the Ship; he’d already made arrangements to have his parents and his sister and her family moved aboard when the time came. They were all happy for the opportunity. Somehow, Kodo doubted he’d see them much; he’d either be lost somewhere in the archives or busy cataloguing and classifying the countless species of plant and animals on Habitat. The Ship was paradise to an academe like himself. He wouldn’t have stayed on Earth even if his entire family had decided to remain behind. There was just too much here for him to refuse. That he might actually be afforded the opportunity to see firsthand some of the fantastic creatures he had glimpsed only in images on a console in the Archives was an opportunity he couldn’t turn down. He stared up at the simulated sky. It was an exact reflection of the sky outside the Ship, right now. In space the Ship would reflect the wonders of the universe upon the passengers living on Habitat; the sky would always amaze and humble them as they made the great voyage across the universe.

♦♦♦

James was lying on the couch in his squalid little apartment. He was dizzy and it felt as though his extremities were made of lead. His head rolled over whenever he tried to move, sending waves of thrilling vertigo through him. He’d thrown up a couple of times and his breathing was laboured. Despite this, James was relaxed, happy. He’d been dosing up on Oil all day now, taking hit after hit to sustain and enhance his high. The message had come from his notary: Allison was going to use the Ticket; she was signing aboard the Ship as a passenger. The news made James happy. There was no greater gift he could think of to give her and he’d caused her so much grief…he’d caused them all so much grief. He loved Allison; he loved her still…but it was over. It would always be over. No second chances. But she’d be aboard the Ship, on the greatest adventure of recorded history and she’d remember that this was his legacy to her.

James reached for another Oil ampoule, injecting it. He threw up again as the next wave of toxin hit his system. His temples pounded and his vision blurred. This was far beyond the usual orgasmic rush and blissful high from the Oil…but it felt so unbelievable…James’ vision cleared. He was heading for overdose country; but it was true what they said: the more hits you did the better the rush, the higher you climbed before you peaked. What would that last fatal mind-blowing body orgasm feel like as he pumped the terminal hit into his system? How good? How incredible? What would it feel like when the Oil blew out his brain, generating a stroke that turned his eleven pounds of grey matter into so much slush? So close to overdose…so close…James sighed, making a supreme effort of will to move, to not simply pass into the murky blackness of unconscious oblivion. Reaching for the table…there on the table…death or life…his headset and another hit. His hand fell on one; tightened around it…James leaned back, bringing the prize back, uncapping it and moving it towards the crippled vein in his wrist…

♦♦♦

Colonel Bloom was greeted at the airport by her daughter with a tight, warm hug.

“Mom!” Laura exclaimed, “It’s great to have you back!” Laura made her usual futile grab for Bloom’s duffel bag, but the Colonel swung it onto her back before her daughter could take it. They began walking out towards Laura’s car again.

“How have you been, Laura? What’s new?” Bloom asked, as the familiarly damp, bitter air of Los Angeles hit her nostrils. Climate change had long ago shifted the rainy weather of Seattle and Vancouver south over most of Northern California’s coastal region, turning a large portion of its desert into marshy woodland.

“My lungs,”

“That joke’s starting to get old though,” Bloom sniped.

Laura shrugged. “Allison was given James’ ticket onto the Ship.”

“James didn’t want it? I mean, I’m happy for Allison, but…”

“James wouldn’t have passed the physical,” Laura said, bitterly, “He’s turned into a forty-weight.”

“Fuck,” Bloom rasped as they reached Laura’s car, “I never thought he’d wind up…I mean, he was always such a good kid…”

Laura opened her trunk and Bloom tossed in her duffel bag. “Well, he wound up like that,” Laura hissed, slamming the trunk shut, “And the only good thing he’s done for her was give her his Ticket.”

“Is she taking anyone with her?” Bloom asked casually, hoping to not have to have the conversation with her daughter she’d come to Los Angeles for.

Laura shrugged as they got into the car. “Her parents are gone,” she said, “She never hears from her sisters or brother, so she’s asked a couple of her friends; including me.”

“What did you say?” Bloom asked. Laura turned to look at her as they waited at the exit of the parking lot for the light to turn green. She smiled sadly at her mother.

“I told her the same thing I’m going to tell you,” She said, gently, “I’m not going. My life is here. My world is here. I’m going to miss her…I’m going to miss you…but I want you to go; both of you. I love you Mom and I know that’s where you want to be.”

She choked back tears and smiled. “It’s not like you’ll be gone, forever,” Laura continued, “The trip might take ten years or more, but we don’t know that it’ll be forever.” She put the car in gear and drove towards the parking lot exit.

“Laura…”

“Mom, I’m a grown woman leading my own life now. I love you very much and I want you around, but I don’t want you to sacrifice your life and your dreams for me. You have to live your own life. We’ll be together again. I know you’ll come back.” Bloom had to choke back tears of her own. What Laura was saying was true, on a rational level. Bloom felt it and agreed with it. But emotionally, Bloom felt like she was abandoning Laura just after her father had died.

Laura wanted her mother around, but the Ship and the chance to be aboard it was the kind of opportunity that she knew only came once in a million lifetimes. They turned out onto the expressway and began the journey back to Laura’s

“Can I ask,” Bloom choked, “Can I ask your reasons for not wanting to go?” Laura shook her head, indicative of her not quite being able to say.

“I don’t know,” she said, “I guess a big part of it is that the Ship reminds me in a lot of ways about how Dad died. I’d rather remember Dad than think about how he died. But it’s not just that; it’s a thousand things…it’s Grandpa and that I’m the grandchild he’s closest to; it’s the fact that I could very soon be working with one of the best art auction houses in the world; the fact that I’ve never wanted to
be
anywhere else; I don’t want to leave the Earth behind. My whole life is here. Everything I want will be here, even if everyone I love won’t.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Bloom said, choking back tears.

“Don’t stay if you don’t want to,” Laura said, allowing her own tears to flow, “Don’t stay because you think I’m holding you here, Mom; stay because it’s what you want to do or go because the Ship is where you want to be. I love you Mom and I want you to be happy. How can I ask more of you than you would ask of me?”

♦♦♦

Peter had long ago said his goodbyes to his family; long before he’d ever even met Professor Mark Echohawk, or stumbled across the Ship as part of what was supposed to have been a routine investigation in the New Mexican desert. Peter and his family had a basic understanding: Neither wanted anything to do with the other. His friends were few and far between, mainly because of the solitary, academic lifestyle he’d chosen for himself as an anthropologist and field archaeologist. James, his only true friend was now gone, disappeared off of Peter’s scanners not long after picking up a serious Oil habit. So there would be no one accompanying him on his Ticket aboard the Ship and no real reason for him to stay behind on Earth. The people he knew best, namely the people he worked with would be aboard. He therefore saw the Ship as a unique opportunity: He could ultimately find himself alone on Earth or alone on the Ship. At least on the Ship he’d have the chance to study alien civilizations firsthand. He’d all but taken over the role of chief archaeologist for the Ship Survey Expedition after the Prof died, albeit that role had been mainly academic until the discovery of the Cultural Archive and more importantly the Hthaask. However he would likely find his skills as an anthropologist and archaeologist brought back into play on far off alien worlds. The chance to study an alien civilization, whether living or long dead, would have been more than enough incentive to sign on if nothing else. Peter felt relief at the thought of leaving this dying mud-ball behind. There were better hopes out there among the stars.

♦♦♦

When she arrived home it was well past ten o’clock. It had been a tiresome day for the British Minister of Defence; a day overdue to be done. She wanted only a long bath and some time to herself. The tub was nearly full, the hot water steaming the bathroom and filling it with the scent of her favourite bath oils when the linx chimed.