David Simpson - Post-Human Trilogy

“Lovely thought,” Rich whispered to Djanet.

“The moment we release the airlock, begin pushing toward the door, or the pressure will knock you back into the lab. Once we’ve cleared the cloud cover, I’ll need to take a moment to read the stars and locate Earth. As soon as I’m ready, I’ll signal to the rest of you, and we’ll move out slow. Again, stay very close to the person in front of you. Old-timer, you take the rear, okay?”

“You got it, buddy.”

“Okay. I think if everything goes smoothly, I can have you all back on Earth in ninety minutes. We’ll descend to Vancouver and report for a nan transfusion and get you all back online. Then, all that will be left for you to do will be to head home, relax, and eat a late lunch.”

“So, are you saying we’ll be getting back just before noon Pacific?” Rich asked.

“Give or take. I think that’s a fair estimate,” James replied.

“Well, I would just like to point out that today’s download occurs at 11:00 a.m. Pacific time—just under an hour from now. So, with the exception of you, Commander, when we get back to Earth, the rest of us will officially be the stupidest people on the planet.”

The team laughed, and the tension of the moment was mercifully broken.

“Don’t worry guys, I’ll protect you from the geniuses,” James replied.

“You better,” said Old-timer, wearing a grin.

“Okay, team, let’s get those helmets on and get ready. As soon as I’ve got my hand on the airlock handle, I want you to activate your fields. As soon as I give the signal that I’m opening the door, I want you to move forward. Copy?”

“We’re ready,” Thel answered for everyone.

“Okay,” James said, taking a deep breath before putting on his helmet.

He wasted no time moving to the airlock handle. It was fixed on the wall, three meters from the actual door; that was important because as soon as the seal was broken, the door would swing open violently. James turned to the group and pointed, giving them the signal to activate their fields, and four green lights appeared, cocooning the crew. James activated his field last, then signaled to the crew to move forward as he opened the door.

The pressure was so powerful that the door swung open fast enough to rip free from its hinges and tear toward Thel like a missile. It bounced harmlessly off of her magnetic field, but the sight of a 150-kilogram metallic projectile streaking through the room and impacting one of the team members sent their collective adrenaline, already running high, even higher. The team quickly exited one after the other and immediately began to ascend. James turned for one last look at the rest of the crew before they entered the cloud cover. Don’t lose them , he thought to himself.

Gravity couldn’t be felt once one was cocooned in a magnetic field. The clouds were so thick that it was as though darkness had tangibility. He had to concentrate. He knew if he began to veer to one side or the other, they might spend hours trapped in the darkness. He felt he was in a maze. He had to keep moving forward and trust he would get somewhere in the end.

After a few minutes, he and the others emerged. Stars speckled the Venusian sky—a million destinations. He looked for Earth, but it wasn’t where he was expecting it. He had veered to one side and emerged dozens of kilometers from where he planned to be. It didn’t matter—Earth was still the brightest star in the sky and easy to find.

He paused for a moment while he got his bearings and waited for his companions to gather behind him. He signaled to them that he was about to head out, and they signaled that they understood. His motion was slow at first, since he needed to give the others a chance to manually adjust to his speed. Soon, however, they were all moving across the sky like emerald streaks of lightning, heading home.

Earth—and therefore life as well—is a fluke. The thought had never struck James with as much intensity as when the five little points of light approached Earth’s stratosphere. The Earth seemed to emanate life; its oceans gleamed in the sunlight, and its atmosphere bathed the surface in a beautiful blue glow. Not hellish like Venus, not red and frozen like Mars had previously been, but peaceful and perfect. Working on terraforming for his entire adult life had taught James just how impossible the odds were of a life-supporting planet forming on its own. If the continents hadn’t emerged out of the water, if the planet’s rotation hadn’t been just right, if it hadn’t been just the right distance from just the right kind of sun, none of it would exist. Some days, days like today, James was amazed at the beauty.

If only it was like that every day.

James had to guess the location of Vancouver. Judging by the position of the Earth and the time of day, he was able to put them over the general vicinity of his hometown. Much of the northern west coast of North America was covered by clouds, but they seemed light and peaceful compared to the clouds on Venus.

He and the others entered the clouds in a free fall. Now he would find out how strong he was at navigating manually—would he emerge over Vancouver, or would he have led them too far south towards Seattle, maybe too far to the west over Vancouver Island, maybe too far east into some forest in the middle of nowhere?

When the clouds began to break, he caught a glimpse of something strange. It was only a momentary glimpse, and he told himself it couldn’t be right. It had looked like flames. He kept dropping. A moment or two later, the clouds abated completely, and he saw where he was: over the east side of Vancouver, facing south. His mouth opened, and his eyes widened as he looked at his city. It was on fire.

He looked to his left and watched as the nearby city of Surrey burned, then turned to his right and saw the downtown core, also aflame. He spun and looked toward the North Shore Mountains, toward his home , and watched the smoke billow. He couldn’t see a single person—not a single green glow above the city anywhere.

The rest of the crew were next to him now. They had all disengaged their magnetic fields and were trying to talk to him. He disengaged his own field so he could listen.

“…have been an earthquake!” Thel was finishing exclaiming.

“I have to get home!” James said.

“We’ll follow you!” Old-timer replied.

James reengaged his magnetic field and streaked toward his house. He exhaled in relief when he saw that it was not on fire. In fact, his house and all those in his neighborhood seemed to be structurally unaffected by the earthquake.

“Thank God.”

He landed on his front lawn, disengaged his magnetic field, and ran toward the front door. In his panic, he forgot that his mind’s eye was not functioning, and he thumped awkwardly against his front door. “Jesus!” he shouted. He took a step back and, this time intentionally, put his shoulder into the door. It wouldn’t give; it was reinforced steel, and the hinges were surprisingly strong. He reengaged his magnetic field and flew into the door—it came apart like butter.

Thel and the others set down on James’s lawn just as he made his way inside.

“God. Lousy day for luck,” Rich said, his voice full of sympathy. “What is this now? Geology screwing us?”

Thel stepped over the remnants of the front door and entered the house. The ground floor seemed completely undisturbed. Then she and the others were startled by James’s cry from above.

Thel shot upward toward the bedroom entrance. James was stumbling backward, nearly stepping off the edge of his doorway, but Thel was there to stop him.

“What is it?” she asked.

He turned to her with his face white and his eyes wide, as if he’d seen hell. “Don’t go in there, Thel,” he replied.