A Fistful of Dust (19 page)

11.

THE SHAKING STOPPED
shortly after the last explosion. Folkard stood on the other side of the shaft. He could work through what remained of the crystal walkways, but it would take some time.

The others went on ahead. The battle was already over. The earth-boring creature lay still, on its side, its long moans of pain heart-rending.

Many men were dead; others injured of which two most certainly would not survive. To everyone’s surprise, Elizabeth kicked one of the injured men, and then sat down, her hands over her face and started to cry.

Trying not to think of Highmore’s broken body lying at the foot of the shaft, or to wonder whether they should have asked the Florenskiite to put itself in harm’s way, Arnaud set his mind to the fact that they had done what they set out to do: rescue Henry and his man. He lived, as did they all. Considering everything, the scales tipped to a win, but the loss of one man weighed far more heavily than many would have said. Even these men…Arnaud gazed around at them. Fools. They had fought and lost their lives for fool’s gold. They had been prepared to kill for it. With Nathaniel standing on one side, Annabelle on his other, Arnaud understood true wealth. Annabelle took his hand, squeezed it, and then let go before doing the same to Nathaniel. She walked over to Elizabeth, sat down beside her, and pulled the sobbing girl into her embrace. He supposed even Annabelle didn’t have it in her to nurse those who had caused so much grief, although the thought was unjust. Whitlock had far more field experience. Besides, Annabelle was comforting one of the victims of this foolishness.

“It’s dying, Nathaniel.” Arnaud moved away from him, approaching the mole creature. He wouldn’t have been surprised to hear Nathaniel warn him to stay back. One couldn’t tell how an injured animal would react, but Arnaud had already laid his hands upon that glistening fur. As Nathaniel drew closer, Arnaud started murmuring meaninglessly, his hands stroking in soothing circles. “No one and nothing should die alone,” Arnaud said, as if Nathaniel had asked him.

In minutes, the creature shuddered and lay still. Nathaniel turned away, and asked Whitlock, “Can I help?”

“No need,” Whitlock said. “Save your strength for when we move out of here.”

“Nathaniel?”

He turned as Arnaud called his name. Arnaud pressed his head against the side of the dead Florenskiite. “I can hear a heartbeat. Do you have a knife?”

A quarter of an hour later the two men stood covered in more blood than Arnaud cared to think about, a baby Florenskiite in their arms. “I guess this makes us parents,” Arnaud said, laughing. The creature wriggled out of his grasp and began to wash itself. “Ahh…how soon they leave the nest.”

They stood just as a man emerged from a nearby tunnel. Captain Folkard had lost his hat.

12.

MY DEAREST FRIEND.
If you are reading this then misfortune has found me. Some would say it is long overdue. You saved me from drowning when we were boys and since then, I cannot explain, but I have always felt I was living on borrowed time. I tried to live my life to the fullest and some might feel in doing so, I lived to excess. All I can tell you is that I have had a wonderful life, an extension of my years I would not have had at all if it were not for you. I want now to urge caution. I leave all that I have to secure yours and Elizabeth’s future together. This is the part where I tell you to lay your adventurous nature aside and live carefully…but I cannot. It is a part of the man who Elizabeth loves, and I share her feelings. I envy you the times ahead. Survival taught me that one cannot always be cautious and one cannot always do as society dictates or one might not truly live at all. You gave me time and an awakening to live a full life. I might have chosen a different path but not one I would have enjoyed so well. Do not waste the financial security I have left you both, but do not seclude yourself away in honour of me or some other such foolishness. Live. Explore. Love and laugh. Do these things with my blessing and Elizabeth at your side. Knowing you will do these things, I die happy.

13.

THEY WERE TO
leave for Mars with the injured men where Folkard rightly said they would face another kind of justice…and with the body of Joseph Highmore. None of them wanted to contemplate how Sir Henry Routledge would greet this news, although perhaps the knowledge the man had died saving his friend would calm him. Elizabeth was inconsolable. Annabelle was spending much time with her, and if were not for the fact that he saved her fiancé, said she feared the poor woman would never raise a smile again. As for Henry Barnsdale-Stevens…Arnaud believed his heart was the heaviest of all, blaming himself for Joseph’s fate. Not even Arnaud knew what to say to raise his spirits, although perhaps Joseph’s letter had helped. It seemed they were quite the family for leaving notes, and Joseph had left such a letter in Whitlock’s care.

In the short time they remained on Phobos, the newly born Florenskiite had begun to tunnel. Folkard seemed to have an affinity with it, although no one overly discussed this, perhaps dreading what many back on Earth would think. The creature bore through to the very minerals they sought (leading Nathaniel to much speculation over genetic memory). Folkard planned to return with a team to Phobos to oversee extraction. Some had raised concern over the possibility another adult Florenskiite might exist, and seek retribution, but Arnaud had put their minds at rest. As well as being an excellent geologist, he was becoming versed in many subjects, and felt certain the creature was asexual, likely reproducing at will or when necessary. He could not help thinking how this would make human relationships a great deal less complicated. Annabelle had taken to calling the Florenskiite his and Nathaniel’s son, and because everyone needed a laugh they let the joke continue; although Nathaniel was more put out than he, of course.

As well as the minerals, the creature broke through to…Nathaniel had said he wanted to call it a
Heart
, but the term was misleading. Even though the overwhelming effects of Phobos seemed to dissipate with the repairs they affected, in the nucleus, the core…that place still brought dread. Even Arnaud sensed something inherently evil in that place, and had felt relief when they discovered it was dead. As Nathaniel continued working on deciphering the inscriptions he confirmed his belief that the humanoid form that the Chaldrites mistook them for was that of the Drobates. As they were not natural to Luna, he deduced they were not natural to Phobos. Even Arnaud felt he should have realised that the form could not depict mankind earlier but no one had envisioned another…not-Heart. It had no soul and inspired horror. Arnaud had suggested calling it the
Eye
, partly from Nathaniel’s translations and because, although dead, it was as if it watched from beyond the grave. Alas, the discovery had thrown up as many questions as it answered. The largest of which was what kind of life existed beyond the asteroid belt, how advanced, and what they had yet to discover.

They had left the monoliths aligned, and Arnaud had taken the time to lay a hand on each, had felt the vibrations of them singing. There Nathaniel found him, and made Arnaud jump almost as though he had a reason to feel guilty. Approaching him, Arnaud failed to recognise the expression on Nathaniel’s face. “I’m all right,” he told him. “You saved my life.”

Nathaniel was quiet for so long, Arnaud didn’t think he’d answer him.

“Despite what we may have to face, I…we have already survived things of which I never dreamed. Annabelle is once more safe…for now, as are we all. You say I saved your life, but I feel in many ways you have saved mine.”

The speech was quite something, yet ambiguous enough to make Arnaud feel a last moment of unease. Then he smiled and laughed at his own foolishness, the sensation likely being a lingering sense of anxiety, of what Annabelle called The Phobos Effect, rather than a premonition. They would leave Phobos, having made friends with a new race of beings. They had suffered losses and gained rewards. Henry took with him some of the soil of Phobos to cast down on Joseph’s grave. They were all saddened, while some were also excited yet afraid.

Things could have turned out far worse, so despite any lingering sensations of dread, they lived and left Phobos with the possibility of a future, and that was by far better than leaving with nothing more than a fistful of dust…

Epilogue

THE STANDING STONES
vibrated as though they were sentient and able to tremble with joy. At last they served their purpose, singing, sending out their chant into the universe. Their voices produced a melody far reaching, far beyond the beings wandering within one small moon. Notes rose and floated as dust on a current of air, guided by a voice only one thing could hear clearly.

A single note carried the sharpest, the others acting as a flow to direct it.

On the edge of the Solar System something within the heart of Pluto’s moon stirred.

The End.

Next; ‘Horizons of Deceit, Book I’

Acknowledgements

A thank you to Andy for dragging me on board the
Esmeralda 2
and indeed the whole
Space, 1889
project. I’m sure I sounded more bewildered than grateful in the beginning, but now have an abiding interest in steampunk and the desire to write more. A thank you to Frank for receiving my work so well and for creating the series. Little did I know as I was heading out into the world and buying my first home that the original RPG was doing the same and that one day our paths would cross. And last but never least, thank you as ever to Kevin for being so supportive in all my creative pursuits. I still remember that kiss on the cheek after his reading my first ever longer-length publication because of its sincerity and because no other reaction could be as important to me.