Life on the Preservation, US Edition (40 page)
“Right.”
She pointed at the clock on the car’s CD player. “Seventeen minutes to spare. That should make you happy.”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
Rain speckled the windshield
There was something wrong. Hesitantly, Kylie reached up and thumbed the Dome light on. Hesitant because she had a weird feeling, like that wasn’t Ian in the driver’s seat anymore. But it was him, of course it was. He looked over when she turned the light on. He had a black eye. His lip was swollen and shiny with blood, like a smear of high-gloss lipstick. It was Ian, fresh from a beatdown by Father Jim. It was Ian, but… it wasn’t Ian. She turned the Dome light off.
A dim, localized flicker occurred in the clouds over the city. Then several more, in different places, like someone was popping off camera flashes.
“What is that?” Kylie said. “Is that lightning?” She knew it wasn’t.
“Hunter attack.”
“Yeah, right. You should get your story straight. You’ve been saying the attack happens after midnight.”
“The main attack did, yeah.”
“Did?”
Ian exited onto James street, accelerated up the hill. “Kylie, it’s over. We made it in time. Seventeen minutes later, the Hunters burned everything down and I managed to Lens up the Preservation Dome.”
“What are you talking about?”
“To you it feels like we just got here. But listen: that was a long, long time ago. We’re on the Preservation now.”
“Oh, come on. I don’t believe it.”
“You always say that.”
Another muted flash occurred, almost directly overhead. Immediately it dimmed away, leaving clouds and rain. Ian turned the windshield wipers on. Suddenly Kylie felt cold.
“They’re persistent,” Ian said. “But they’ll never crack through. Charles and I fortified the Dome. We’re going to wait them out, wait for the Earth to restore herself. There’s nothing but time, Kylie.”
“Why are you
talking
like that? You don’t sound like yourself. Can you turn the heat on?”
“We’re here.”
He braked the Crown Vic next to the park across from his building. The park was full of people, hundreds of people, everybody standing quietly, like they were waiting for something to happen.
“What are all those people doing there?”
“Waiting for us. Come on.”
“No.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“Whatever.” Kylie
was
afraid. She felt it through her body, an absolute dread. “I’m not getting out of this car.”
“We’ve got about eight minutes before the next Advent. You’ll go away but I’ll stay right here. Seventeen minutes before midnight, we’ll be in the car again, crossing into the city. See, this is the problem. We have forever to live, but only seventeen minutes to convince you that it’s true.”
“I told you I don’t believe it. Take me home.”
“You always say that.”
“Fuck you, Ian.
Fuck
you. Take me home. I want to see my mother.”
“You can’t see her anymore. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say that.”
Two men and a woman stepped out of the crowd and approached the car. One man was chubby, wearing a tan overcoat and a Kangol cap. The other was tall and thin, with a hawk nose and shaved head. The woman was short and delicate-looking and her features, in the street lamp light, were similar to Ian’s.
“Who are they?” Kylie scrunched down in her seat.
“My sister Vanessa, and my friends, Zach and Charles. The rest of the people are the Awakened. Some of them, anyway. They’re all here to welcome you.”
Vanessa, Zach and Charles stopped in front of the car, smiled and waved.
“They’re trying to look friendly,” Ian said.
“Jesus Christ.”
“Kylie, look at that crowd. Do you think I even
knew
so many people in the old world? I barely had one friend.”
Kylie wiped her eyes. “I want my mother.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“You don’t have any right to fuck around with my head.”
“I know. And I wouldn’t do that.”
He scooted over on the bench seat and held her. Kylie’s heart was racing.
“I’m unstuck, Kylie. I live outside the cycle of Advents. Almost everybody in the city does, now. We can’t stop the Advents, because we need them to keep refreshing the android bodies. Even when you stay, your body gets rejuvenated. I’m unstuck, Kylie, but every night I surrender in time to completely re-gen in this car with you. I’ll never give up. A long time ago – you have no idea how long ago – I figured out that you make me real. There’s only a couple of minutes left. Will you get out of the car with me now? I want to show you something. You don’t have to be afraid. I promise.”
“Okay.”
They climbed out of the car. Kylie scooted out the driver’s door after him, never letting go of his hand. He led her to the back of the car.
“Look,” he said.
On the broad rear deck of the Crown Victoria, in bright green spray paint, the words:
know who you love: Ian + Kylie.
“I know, cheesy as hell,” Ian said. “But I wanted to make a point. I did that on the last Advent, then I held my hand out like this and said: STAY. Like I’ve got the power, right? You
know
that wasn’t on there before. You know it.”
“Oh, God,” Kylie said. “Oh, my God.”
“It works with things. Stay works with things. But I can’t make android people stay unless they want to and believe they can. Otherwise, I’d do this–” He placed his hand lightly on her chest, this Ian who was so different – confident, matured – and yet the same as the Ian she knew. “–and I would say,
stay
. Please stay.”
Kylie breathed out, almost a sigh. She put her hand over his. All around them, lacy shadows began to spin forth out of the material world.
Know who you love
glowed steady in the seething dark.
“I’m going to miss my mother so much,” Kylie said.
“I know. I miss mine, too.”
He held her hand and she squeezed it as hard as she could while shadows devoured the world.
Then it was over, and the sudden light shift dazzled her.
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I
WANT TO
thank my wife, Nancy Kress, for reading earlier versions of the manuscript and offering invaluable suggestions. I also want to thank Daryl Gregory and Ted Kosmatka, good friends and good writers, for doing the same. Patrick Swenson and Blunt Jackson, as always, provided moral support along the way. Finally, this book wouldn’t exist without my sister, Sonja.
NOTE:
Astute readers may have noticed some of the Capital Hill locations in this story more closely resemble a version existent before the massive light rail construction project began to radically alter the local environment in a not-so-good way. Such readers can rest assured that they are not mistaken.
The aliens are here, all around us. They always have been. And now, one by one, they’re destroying our cities.
Dodge Mercer deals in identities, which is fine until the day he deals the wrong identity and clan war breaks out. Hope Burren has no identity, and no past, struggling with a relentless choir of voices filling her head.
In a world where nothing is as it seems, where humans are segregated and aliens can sing realities and tear worlds apart, Dodge and Hope lead a ragged band of survivors in a search for the rumoured sanctuary of Harmony, and what may be the only hope for humankind.
‘
alt.human
is a startlingly new take on the theme of an Earth under alien occupation, and Brooke’s vivid, high-definition prose makes us see it all with magnificent clarity.’
Alastair Reynolds
‘A brilliant dissection of how individuals and society will change when freed from material bounds.
The Accord
is Brooke’s best novel to date.’
The Guardian
on
The Accord
‘Keith Brooke’s prose achieves a rare honesty and clarity; his characters are always real people, his situations intriguing and often moving.’
Jeff VanderMeer
www.solarisbooks.com
Solaris Rising
presents nineteen stories of the very highest calibre from some of the most accomplished authors in the genre, proving just how varied and dynamic science fi ction can be. From strange goings on in the present to explorations of bizarre futures, from drug-induced tragedy to time-hopping serial killers, from crucial choices in deepest space to a ravaged Earth under alien thrall, from gritty other worlds to surreal other realms, Solaris Rising delivers a broad spectrum of experiences and excitements, showcasing the genre at its very best.
‘What, then, are Solaris publishing? On the basis of this anthology, quite a wide-ranging selection of SF, some of it very good indeed.’
–
SF Site
on
The Solaris Book of New Science Fiction
‘A cliché it may be, but there really is something for everyone here... an ideal bait to tempt those who only read novels to climb over the short fiction fence.’
–
Interzone
on
The Solaris Book of New Science Fiction, Vol. 2
‘The stories presented in this latest volume are intended to showcase the diverse nature of science fiction. Does it succeed? Absolutely.’
–
SF Signal
on
The Solaris Book of New Science Fiction, Vol. 3
www.solarisbooks.com
