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Authors: G.S. Fields

Tags: #apocalyptic end of the world mars apocalypse pirates doomsday science fiction scifi

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BOOK: Under Vanishing Skies
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I shrugged and she continued. “So to answer your question of what difference one more person on the Council would make...a big difference. There’s no way Ahmed could push two people out in such a short span of time without raising a lot of suspicion. Suspicious people get angry and angry people can overthrow an asshole like Ahmed.”

I grabbed the bottle back from her and took a swig. “Okay, fine. You need another person on the Council who isn’t on Ahmed’s side. That’s only one reason. You said there were two?”


Very good,” she said. “I thought maybe you were too far gone to remember back that far.” She smiled and winked.


Well?” I asked.


The second reason is because I miss you.”

My stomach flopped and I wasn’t sure if it was the booze or what she’d just said. But if I was a betting man I’d take odds that it was what she’d said.


We used to have so much fun back then, Aron,” she said. “Remember? You guys were hilarious, always joking around as you put up those god-awful, ugly communication towers.”


They may be ugly, but they work,” I said sticking my finger in her face. But she was right. Those years were pretty damned fun. We worked hard and partied harder, at least Shannon and I did. Rick and Jin had usually headed home to be with their families, but Shannon and I didn’t have families. So we drank. Sometimes we fished and a few times she even got me out on a surf board, but mostly we drank.

She knocked my hand away from her face and said, “My point is that I don’t have anyone to share a drink with and I don’t have fun anymore...not like we did back then.” Her smile magically transformed into that sexy smirk again. “And once we get the list finalized, we could start having some real fun.”


But when the list is done you’ll be off to Mars and I lose my drinking partner again.”

She shook her head and her expression changed. I saw sadness behind her smile. It seemed to reach out to me for help. “No. I’d prefer dying on this planet, the planet that God put me on.”


I don’t know, Shannon. Don’t get me wrong…I’d love to hang out with you again, but the Council...”


I know, I know...but it’ll be over before you know it. I swear.”

I took another drink and said, “What makes you think I could get elected? I’m no politician.”

Her smile brightened. “First of all, everyone with a data mat knows your name. For the love of God, Aron…you’re a bloody hero. You’re the erector of the almighty IICN.”


I’m no hero,” I said.


It doesn’t matter. There’s no need for an election. As chairman, Ahmed has the power to appoint a replacement as long as the Council votes to approve it.”

I laughed so hard I almost pissed myself.


What’s so funny?” she asked.


Ahmed hates me. You weren’t on Male then, but he and I had a little run-in and...well...let’s just say that it ended with me showing him how I felt.”

She laughed. “I may not have been there, but everyone in the Maldives heard about how you mooned Ahmed from the communications tower during the dedication ceremony.”


So you know why there’s not a chance in hell that he’d appoint me.” I said


He’ll appoint you. Because if he doesn’t, then Michio and I will block any other appointment he tries to make. Without thirteen members on the Council, the list can’t be approved. If the list isn’t approved when the ship arrives, then the captain takes over and if that happens—”


If that happens then Ahmed doesn’t get his people on the list. I get it.” I tipped the bottle back, but it was empty.

I looked over at Shannon and found her smiling at me. Suddenly I wondered if her offer was more than an invitation to drink. Then I remembered her boyfriend. What was his name again? Oh yeah, 
Saravan
 . What kind of a stupid name was Saravan?

My head felt like it was bobbing around out on the ocean. I couldn’t get my brain to slow down long enough to come up with an excuse to say no. Then I thought about Rick and how the next several weeks were going to be hard around here. There were too many memories. And then there was William. I couldn’t face the kid…not yet. I knew the Council would suck, but the memories of Rick and facing William would be worse.


Alright,” I finally said.


Really? You’ll do it?”

I nodded. The thought of spending time with Shannon filled me with a warm feeling in my gut, but there was something else swimming around down there, something other than Mohamed’s bathtub booze. And even as I nodded, I had already regretted my decision.

 

Chapter 3

 

 

A wave crashed against the kayak. I countered with a stroke of my paddle and kept myself upright.

Shit! It had only been two weeks since Ahmed appointed me to the Council and already I was getting rusty. I had hoped that Ahmed and his boys would see the light and we could put this whole Council bullshit behind us, but the chance of that happening was slimmer than the chance of the atmosphere spontaneously healing.

Getting up to speed on Council business was a lot tougher than I had thought. For eighteen hours a day, seven days a week, I had pored over the lists, familiarizing myself with the inhabitants and the pool of candidates. Then I studied the profiles of those who were on the proposed list. What was it that Shannon had told me? They were just quibbling over a few names? Maybe it was the Irish in her, but the word quibbling turned out to be an epic understatement.

The list was stuffed with hundreds of ineligible candidates. Vote after vote was held, but the same people kept showing up on the list. I felt like Don Quixote in some new level of hell. At least in this hell, they offered an occasional break. This break was only one day. But that's all I needed.  One day of fishing could help me flush two weeks of the Council bullshit out of my system.

I looked down through the water at the razor-sharp coral that lay a few feet below the surface. The black, green, and gray colors blurred together under the lens of the choppy ocean. It reminded me of those French abstract paintings that Kelly had once dragged me to see at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. Like those paintings, the colors and shapes of the coral were beautiful. The only difference was that I’d never heard of anyone getting shredded by a painting before. Death-by-coral wasn’t a good way to kill myself, but that fucking Council had me considering it.


I hope you’re getting a good laugh out of this,” I said to Rick, as if he were floating out there next to me. “But goddammit…this isn’t funny.”

The rain suddenly began to fall and the patterns of the coral took on an almost mosaic look. A few minutes later the swells began to rise. I picked up my paddle and turned the kayak to face the waves head on.

 
I still couldn’t believe that I had volunteered to take Rick’s place on the Council. Mohamed’s moonshine must have killed the brain cells that governed common sense.

A wave broke over the bow and water poured into my seat compartment. Perfect.  What else could go wrong?  As if to answer my question, it began to rain.  Shit.  I decided to head in.

Paddling against the wind was hard, but as I slugged my way back towards the beach I felt some of the stress begin to melt away. Despite the weather, I found myself enjoying the rush of speed as I slid down each swell. That’s probably why I didn't see the rogue wave that knocked me over.

The world spun. A wall of water rushed over me. Instinctively, I jammed my paddle down and wedged it into the reef. One of my hands lost its grip. I fell sideways, my hand smashing into the coral. The wave pulled the boat sideways. I screamed as my hand grated across the coral like a hunk of cheese. Water rushed into my mouth. I began to choke. A swell lifted me up and I somehow managed to grab the paddle with my bloody hand. But it was too late. I felt myself rolling over. I paddled frantically in a futile attempt to keep the boat upright. In a second, the swell would fall and I would fall with it, head first into the bottom. So with all the strength I could muster, I pushed my paddle back in a long, sweeping stroke. Then, leaning back, I swung my body hard to the right. It worked. I was upright again.

Leaning over the side, I coughed up a lungful of water. At some point, my coughs turned into laughter and it took me a second to get the joke. God had just offered me a chance to get off of the Council and I didn’t take it.

 

 
 ***

I walked slowly back to my hut through the pouring rain. It was coming down in sheets now, blowing almost horizontal with the wind. As I passed in front of the dining hut, Mohamed poked his head out and yelled, “Aron, my friend! You will catch a cold out there.”

I just waved and kept walking, but Mohamed opened an umbrella and ran after me.


What are you doing out in the rain?”


Just coming back from kayaking.”

He looked incredulous. “In this?”


I get wet kayaking, so what difference does a little rain make?”

He must have seen the blood dripping from my cut hand. “You’re injured.”


I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”


It is more than a scratch and you know it. Come on.” He tugged on my arm. “Let’s get this cleaned up.”


I’m fine,” I repeated.


I insist,” he said tugging at my soaked shirt. I didn’t have it in me to argue, so I went with him.

We walked past the old swimming pool that now served as a cistern for the island’s water reserve. A couple of smart people had converted the three-tiered swimming pool into a water treatment plant. Rainwater was collected from across the island and hauled to the upper pool where it made its way through a series of two filtration waterfalls before ending up in the main reservoir at the bottom.

We continued along the path, walking past fruit trees and the vegetable garden that was planted in the old soccer field. It was the only place on the island with soil deep enough to sustain agriculture. On the other side of the field was Mohamed’s infirmary. We walked onto the porch and Mohamed closed his umbrella, leaning it against the wall. I followed him inside.


Mango juice?”


No thanks.” I said. “Water if you’ve got it.”


Mango juice is better for you. Here, try some.” Mohamed grabbed a small plastic jug and filled it with a thick, orange liquid. He handed it to me. “Here...drink.”


Really,” I said. “A glass of water is fine.”

Pushing the glass into my hand he said, “Mango juice will help protect you against staph infection.”

I had never heard that before. True or not, I knew better than to argue with Mohamed about the miraculous power of mango juice. So I took the glass and smiled politely before taking a sip. It was like drinking syrup. Not the kind of thing that hits the spot after paddling through a storm. “Mmm,” I choked out. “Thanks.”

Mohamed rummaged through some plastic containers and seemed to find what he was looking for. “Please, please...sit.” I sat down on one of his wicker chairs. He sat down next to me. Then leaning over, he began to bandage my hand.


So, how is it going?” he asked.


I can’t complain.”

He smiled. “You know what I mean. The Council. How is the Council going?”

Stalling to think of a tactful way to answer, I took another sip of the syrup and immediately regretted it. After forcing myself to swallow, I said, “It sucks. Ahmed doesn’t run a very tight ship.”

I winced as he poured some of his moonshine over my hand. “This may sting a little.”


You’re supposed to say that before you pour it over the cut,” I said.


I am sorry,” He said. Then, as he began wrapping my hand with a cloth bandage, “So Ahmed is causing you problems?”

I shook my head. “He’s causing everyone problems, but I can deal with him. I dealt with him and his cronies when we were building the communications hub on Male.”

He finished bandaging my hand and then sat back. His expression changed. The smile was gone. “Just be careful. This time will be different. He was nice to you back then because he needed you to complete the IICN. He doesn’t need you now.”


Nice my ass! He was a pushy, pig-headed, stubborn son of a bitch.”

His smile returned. “He is that...and more. But he is also dangerous, so be careful.”

BOOK: Under Vanishing Skies
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