John Krygelski - The Aegis Solution

She shook her head to indicate that she did not.

“I’ll check on you later.”

Tillie nodded.

Resignedly, he squeezed her arm once and turned to walk away. She did not watch his retreating figure cross the roof back to the hatch. Instead, she bent over and picked up an armload of the wood piled at her feet and dumped it into the barrel, causing an explosion of glowing embers to burst from the top and swirl out into the night. Turning her back to the frigid, unceasing gale, Tillie resumed her vigil.

The day was warm. The sun was bright, casting its rays upon the gently rippling waters of the pond, and scattering them into a million sparkling pinpoints that seemed to caress her eyes instead of hurting them. She was wearing a yellow cotton top, navy blue shorts, and a pair of black Keds. Her tanned legs pumped up and down with each rise and fall of the foot pedals on the paddleboat, each push creating a soft whooshing sound as the paddles at the rear of the boat turned shallowly in the water, easing it forward. A steady, shrill chirp…chirp…chirp from an unseen bird almost synchronized with the motion of her legs and the pedals.

The air was filled with the smell of hamburgers grilling at the stand near the dock. And popcorn, its buttery aroma making her mouth water. Close to the shore, picnickers stoked their fires in anticipation of their own burgers soon to be cooked. The smoke from the barbeques wafted through the still air over the water and caused a not unpleasant sting in her nostrils.

Tillie looked at the seat to her right and saw Maxwell, now a towheaded teenager. Although he did not share her red hair, the familial connection provided him with a generous sprinkling of freckles. He was smiling broadly at her as he assisted with the chore of propelling them through the water.

A part of her mind was in another locale, a distant place, different from where she was now in every way. But the remaining part was not only engaged in this idyllic moment, but was relishing it, embracing it, devouring every aspect of her surroundings. She smiled at her brother and put her arm around his already firm and muscular shoulders. “I love you, Maxwell!”

He leaned into her, his hand sliding between her body and the seat back, and circling her waist, pulling her tightly to him. “I love you, too, Tee.”

She tousled his blond hair. “What a perfect day! This is so wonderful.”

The two continued pedaling across the pond. Tillie turned to face her brother. “Maxwell, do you forgive me?”

“I do, Tee. I always have.” The smile left his face, replaced with a more serious expression. “What’s important now is that you forgive yourself.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“You need to, Tee. You must. Tee, wake up! You have to wake up now!”

His words struck her like a hammer blow. She stared at Maxwell, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to understand what he meant and knowing it at the same time. Although her feet were still pushing the pedals down, the sound of the wheel splashing into the water no longer reached her ears. The smell of the hamburgers and popcorn was gone from the air.

Her feet slipped from the pedals which halted instantly. “This can’t be,” she said aloud, not comprehending why they would not continue their rotation under Maxwell’s power.

Chirp… chirp… chirp!

The bird was singing its monotonous song, even louder now, although Tillie could still not see where it was perched. Turning her head to face the shore of the pond, she saw that it was now dense with the smoke from the picnickers’ barbeque pits, the people and the grills no longer visible. Just the smoke. Thickening and moving lazily toward her across the water.

The sunlight on the bare skin of her legs and arms, only moments ago feeling warm and comforting, now seemed to bake her. She realized she was sweating.

“Let’s find some shade,” she said to Maxwell, turning back. The seat beside her was empty. She searched the water around the boat, unexplainable terror gripping her heart and kneading it as a baker would work a mound of dough on his table.

“MAXWELL! MAXWELL!”

Her shouts went unanswered. As she thrashed about in the seat wildly, her eyes swept over the water all around the boat, and she repeatedly yelled her brother’s name. The thick smoke from the shore reached her, making her desperate search of the water’s surface impossible, and burning her throat and eyes. Tillie’s throat was so irritated she could no longer call out his name, uncontrollable coughing racking her.

Chirp… chirp… chirp!

Now completely enveloped in the heavy gray smoke, unable to speak and, in fact, unable to draw a breath without her throat clenching closed in reaction, she decided she must get off the boat and swim to the shore.

Maxwell is already there, she thought to herself. Able to see absolutely nothing around her but a gray curtain, Tillie moved, from memory, to dive off the paddleboat to her left. Twisting around and bracing her feet on the bottom, she pushed off. But rather than plunging into the cool water, she was stunned by an impact from her shoulder slamming into something metal and very hot.

Chirp… chirp… chirp!

Her shoulder blazing with pain from the jolt, and her eyes squeezed tightly shut to avoid the smoke, she tried to crawl over the side of the small boat, careful to avoid whatever it was she had crashed into a moment before. Confusion filled her mind as she crawled. The edge of the boat should have been mere inches from her, yet she was crawling and crawling but not reaching the side, not reaching the water.

Chirp… chirp… chirp!

Born of despair, her crawl became a scramble forward, her hands searching to avoid another obstacle. Risking a quick look, she opened her eyes and saw that the smoke was thinning. No longer attempting to understand or visualize her surroundings, she hurried forward. The smoke continued to lessen and she could see that she was on a flat, gray surface. To her right was a vertical concrete wall.

Chirp… chirp… chirp!

She followed the wall, scraping her knees on the rough texture beneath her, until she had gone far enough to escape the smoke completely and she was able to finally draw in a deep, purging breath. Her throat and lungs, still burning, rebelled at the influx of air and triggered another series of violent coughs. Tillie dropped to the surface and leaned against the wall, waiting for the coughing to stop.

Chirp… chirp… chirp!

When it finally subsided and she was able to draw several moderate breaths, her head cleared and she understood that she was on the roof of Aegis, not in a paddleboat floating on a pond somewhere else. Panting as she assimilated the details of her surroundings, she realized that the fire in the barrel must have gone out, and the charred wood at the bottom must have begun to smoke. She must have been asleep. The rest of it, the pond…the boat…Maxwell…the popcorn and hamburgers and the bird, had all been a part of her dream.

Chirp… chirp… chirp!

“Except the bird, I guess,” she muttered to herself. Her mind, climbing the rest of the way out of the dreamworld she had created, reacted. “A BIRD?”

Jumping up, she looked in the direction of the sound. Perched on the parapet wall, not ten feet from her, was a wren, its head jerkily swiveling back and forth, its beak opening.

Chirp… chirp… chirp!

This mundane denizen of the desert might as well have been the mythical Phoenix. She stared at it, as if mesmerized, her mouth agape; she had not seen a bird…any bird…at Aegis in years. Not since the wind had begun.

Slowly, she pulled her eyes away from the sight of the bird, slipped off her hood, and tilted her head back, her eyes sweeping upward. The sun had risen and she saw a beautiful, clear blue sky. Still in disbelief, not trusting her senses, Tillie tore off her gloves, opening her hands wide, palms upward, and extending her arms as far as she could.