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Authors: A.J. Conway

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BOOK: Skyquakers
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Psycho was told to sit there on his bed and stay put. He was
visited by a series of giants in different coloured ponchos and head scarves,
tall ones,
short

well,
shorter

ones, dark-skinned, light-skinned, yellow-eyed,
blue-eyed

Each would appear with Vet by their side and let
out a strange sound from their throats. It was like a very long, extended
croak. Psycho only responded with a scornful look, to which Vet would then
encourage the giant to move on and try another.

This went on twelve times until Psycho almost instantly
leapt from his bed with excitement. The giant who appeared in his room wore
black, with a very tall headscarf wrapped like a turban, and vibrant orange
eyes. He stepped into the room, hands behind his back, with the respectful
strides of a leader of great importance. When he appeared before his student,
he hardly got the chance to make his croak before it all triggered. Psycho
almost wanted to cry when he saw him, but the reunion didn

t
last long. Before he could even hug him, or shake his hand, or shout that he
had been a believer all along, the black-dressed giant left the room and Vet
ticked something off his tablet. Psycho wanted to call out to him, but he didn

t
even know his name, so he didn

t know what to shout.

Vet and another medic in white then washed Psycho down on
the bed, spraying his naked body with lukewarm water and washing a smelly
shampoo all over his skin and hair, scrubbing him clean of the dirty Earth
contaminants. He was also given an injection in his arm, a vaccine, so that he
wouldn

t get sick from any of their contaminants either.

As he sat there, being washed, he asked,

Is
he the captain of the ship, my one?

Vet kept scrubbing.

No.

He struggled to find a word.

‘Commander? Pilot? Lieutenant?

The other medic asked what the native was saying. Vet typed
words into his tablet, and then read the translation. He found a suitable reply
and said,

En
-gin-
eef
.


Engin
-what?


Gush,
dif

ar

,
vuer

ef

,

said the
medic, pointing at the letters on the tablet.


En
-gin-
eer
,

Vet repeated.

Yes.

‘Of the ship? Like a mechanic? A builder?

‘No, not ship.

Vet did a big circular
movement with his arms.

Home.

Earth, he meant.

 

Curled up in her pod, Lara muttered,

So it wasn

t
just me who freaked out.

‘A lot of people freaked out.

‘This Engineer guy

he

s like,
your Baba, isn

t he?

Psycho, on the other side of the glass, nodded.

He
is
my everything
.

 

After Vet and his medics cleaned and scrubbed him, they
instructed him to dress in a buttoned shirt, jacket, tie and black shoes. These
were the formal clothes natives wore down there, they explained, and so these
were the formal clothes he was to wear up here. To them, the clothes of humans
were rather eccentric and unnecessarily lavish, on par to one seeing a
Chihuahua in a pink woollen jumper, a wig, and mini shoes. But, craving their
respect and adoration, he was happy to comply. He was given his silvery-grey
suit in a locker room of sorts, where he met the other humans who had
successfully gone through the same transitional process. They were from all
over the world, all ages and walks of life. He had seen some of them in his
final dream when they were nothing but projections, but in real life, they were
just as characterless. None spoke, nor looked at all interested in making
conversation. They hardly blinked. They did nothing but put on their clothes,
slick their hair back tight, straighten their ties, check their makeup in the
reflective glass panels, like one would do before a corporate job interview.

Not all had made it. Like Lo, some didn

t
transition well and woke up in terror. Others failed to make contact: they did
not recognise their teacher, not by their appearance nor their unique croak.
Those ones had been removed, leaving only the fully functional,
well-transitioned pilgrims. As to what happened to the others, no one seemed to
be interested. Psycho asked casually, but the guy next to him, buttoning up his
shirt, merely shrugged and carried on. He asked them what they thought of the
ship, but they had no opinion. He asked what their giant was like and they

d
just shrug. Perhaps something had been altered in their psychology during
transition, or maybe they were all just the same dull, boring human beings that
they were back on Earth.

 

Meeting Engineer for the first time since he was a child was
rather superficial; he felt like a puppy being chosen from a pet store, except
he was the last one left and his new owner was tossing up second thoughts as he
looked down into those brown eyes and remembered how much he would have to feed
him and train him and clean up after him. The moment they made contact though,
Psycho felt this overpowering warmth in his chest, this unconditional
adoration. The excitement was almost too much to contain, but he tried to keep
his poise to blend in with the other transitioned humans, in case an outburst
of any kind would make him look defective.

Vet ticked him off once he was fully dressed, and another
giant in a blue poncho was brought in to be Psycho’s escort and take him to
Engineer’s private quarters, where he would begin his ‘service’. Psycho tried
to shake hands with the escort, but he pulled away from him rather
dramatically, as though he was a venomous spider.

Vet slapped Psycho’s hands away. That was gross, he said.

Alright, no physical
contact. I can live with that.

Psycho left the hospital ward closely behind the escort. He
was armed, he noticed: there was a bulky item with a gun turret strapped to his
back. The weapon appeared to be made of glass or crystal. It made him feel
uneasy as they stood side by side in the awkward silence of an elevator, but
months later he came to realise how much these
giants
feared humans for both their irrational volatility and as an impressive
biological hazard to their health.

The short trip up to Engineer’s quarters was physically
exhausting due to the change in oxygen pressure aboard the cloud. He felt as if
he was breathing the high-altitude air of the Himalayas, and by the time he and
the escort made it to the doors of Engineer’s study, Psycho felt as if he would
pass out. He tried to stay strong, but when he began to see black spots he
called out for help. The escort would not touch him, but Engineer, as fearless
and as magnificent as ever, came to him and scooped up his frail body in his
long arms. Psycho was carried the rest of the way in. Engineer put him to bed
in a small corner, wrapped up in blankets and with a toy from his childhood: a
plastic fire truck. He waved his hand and mumbled through his headscarf in
fractured English, ‘
Ze
air.’

‘I’m fine.’ He tried to sit up.

Engineer pushed him back down. ‘Lie here now.’ He left to
return to his work.

Psycho wanted say something, but the exhaustion took hold
and soon he was asleep again.

SHIP
 
 
 

Psycho was quickly immersed in the wonders of the

cloud

,
or the

motherfucking alien spaceship

,
as he

d rather call it. It was like a fully-operating
miniature city, completely enclosed and hovering several kilometres above the
Earth’s surface. During the first few weeks spent by Engineer

s
side, he came to understand how things operated. The ship was nuclear:
radioactive materials had been brought with them from their former world,
stored in vats of water the size of Olympic swimming pools. The core generator
was a highly volatile and epic piece of machinery, and the cracks of

thunder

were caused by the engines working at high pressures. Their fissionable
material was far better utilised than what was achievable with elements on
Earth, so it was long-lasting but not infinite. The water vapour created by the
chamber was expelled as exhaust, forming the clouds which concealed the ship’s
underside. Mirrors and stealthy technology helped strengthen the mirage, and
several other unknown pieces of alien junk had kept satellite radars at bay and
allowed them to hover unseen over the planet for what Psycho suspected must
have been upwards of twenty years.

The fuel powered the storm, but air pressure and sunlight
also played a part in their ability to keep a machine the size of a super cell
afloat: hot, humid airs pushed them up and cold air pushed them down. In order
to remain balanced, the ship was always moving, following the atmospheric
currents as they curled and spiralled around the country. Sailing on air
lessened their fuel expenditure.

The beams were also nuclear powered, although how they
worked was a science well beyond Psycho. He had only once seen where they were
operated. Should one journey to the lowest levels of the ship, beneath its
nuclear compartments, its plumbing, right down to the very hull, one would come
across the underside of the cloud to find a colossal hole there. A circular
pit, perhaps more than fifty metres in diameter, revealed a 30,000-foot fall
down to Earth. A metal ring following the circumference of the hole was
connected directly to the nuclear engine and heated up so incredibly hot that
it shone a purplish-pink when activated, and thus the beams were generated into
existence. Standing before this epic cavity in the underside of the floating
ship, clinging to a railing which encircled it from above, Psycho felt as if he
was standing over a gigantic fan: the outside air was gushing in with
hurricane-strength winds. He would not want to get any closer, in fear of
tripping and plummeting unsuspended to Earth. Obviously, this was the only room
entirely oxygenated, meaning Engineer had to wear a gas mask to walk through
here.

The beams operated both up and down; the lever which
directed the flow of power was fairly standard and the whole system was less
complex than operating an excavator. Its ability to vaporise organic matter and
transport it aboard, or to other ships nearby, was an arm of physics mankind
was yet to practice, although Engineer admitted it was fairly new for them too.
In fact, many aspects of their journey and their coming to Earth had been
entirely trial-and-error, and it was only once this technology was tested on
the various species of the new world that they found it could not penetrate
water, along with some other manmade physical barriers. Psycho pointed out the
obvious flaw then: there must still be several species unaccounted for, and
many humans, for whatever reason, who were momentarily underwater or concealed
at the time could still be roaming about down there. Engineer agreed that it
was a frustrating issue he was attempting to solve.

All up, twelve thousand operated one ship.
Twelve
thousand
. There used to be eighteen, he had heard from another human once
over casual conversation. Nearly a third had died already during the journey
alone. Excessive numbers were needed to keep the ship

s
population from diminishing; this whole operation required them to think
several generations ahead.

‘It won

t even be their generation who
finish it,

one said.

It

ll
be their children, or their grandchildren.

Engineer was part of the first generation, making him one of
the oldest and most senior operators on board. His role was just as Vet had
described: he was the builder of the new world,
their
new world. What this entailed precisely was kept from Psycho.
In fact, Psycho’s role on this ship was vague. Nothing was ever made formally
clear to him or the others about their purpose here, or the purpose of
anything, really, while aboard the storm cloud. He was disappointed, in all
honesty, to be woken on a floating platform of intergalactic travellers and be
given little more than a thorough clean and a brief introduction to an old
friend. While Psycho wanted nothing more than to be with his teacher, his Baba,
he was also a pilgrim of truth. Now, standing before the Mecca of his lifelong
pursuit, he still failed to see why he was here; why he, amongst seven billion
other candidates, were chosen, and what they would all be rewarded with for
their loyalty and faith. He had spent so much of his life trying to decode the
visions of his childhood, but after more than a decade of waiting he was still
met with silence and omission.

Questioning Engineer about any of this was futile and
resulted in scornful stares, enraged rants, or occasionally the sharp sting of
his hand. Although he was sure the love was there, Engineer was not one for
softness, especially in public. Outside his quarters, Psycho’s place was behind
him, out of sight, silent, obedient. He never asked Psycho to do anything in
particular: he was not a slave or a butler or a secretary to him; he was just
there
, always in his presence. He was
expected to follow Engineer around the ship, sit in on his meetings, and to be
quiet while he worked. Psycho attended many meetings a day with a variety of
poncho-draped giants in large corporate rooms. He was never greeted or
addressed by anyone while he was there, nor were the other transitioned humans
in suits who accompanied their
Babas
, and so all he
could do was listen and learn. Language-wise, he was picking up more and more
everyday. The speed at which they conversed was often mind-boggling, but
gradually the content of these meetings became easier to understand, and thus
more interesting. While the other transitioned humans remained
zombified
and blank-faced where they stood, Psycho was
paying careful attention and taking mental notes.

The Planet

was the only topic they ever spoke of, either amongst themselves or with
correspondents on large digital screens. It was a slow process, reconstructing
an entire planet for a new ecosystem, but they were working desperately to meet
a deadline. This only became apparent to Psycho when he walked into Engineer

s
study one day and saw a 3D hologram on his desk of two enormous rotating
spheres, hovering side by side, similar in size, but different in nature. While
one was a familiar blue-green, the other was a brown-red wasteland.

‘Is that your planet?

he asked.

Engineer turned the holograms off and both spheres
disappeared. He ordered him to leave him alone. Psycho insisted on knowing, but
the moment he stepped closer, Engineer lurched up from his chair and towered
over him with the twitchy glint of impatience in his eyes. Knowing he was
inches away from a more physical response, he backed away submissively.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘Go over there.’

He went and sat in the corner.

Vet was more helpful on the matter. He told Psycho the whole
story during a routine health check, giving him the first answer to one of many
obvious questions: why were they here?

Vet responded with a question of his own: how do you keep a
planet from running dry? Psycho wasn

t sure if this was literal or
rhetorical, so he just shrugged. Whatever the answer was, they didn

t
have it. Their planet was a dead rock now, left to rot by desertification and
overpowering heat which dried everything up too quickly to replace. Most of
their kind had starved to death and nearly all forms of edible plants and
animals were gone. They would be extinct by the end of the century, so extreme
measures had to be taken.

Psycho wanted to tell a story.

‘So, there was this guy, thousands of years ago, named Noah.
He was told a flood was coming which would destroy every living thing on the
planet, so he built an ark – a giant ship which floats on water. Then he stored
two of every animal on board, so that he could use them to repopulate
everything. The flood came, everything died, and then it all started again.

As a scientist, Vet began to point out many obvious genetic
and biological flaws in that concept. Psycho stopped him. ‘It

s
only a story. But that

s what this is, isn

t
it? This is an ark. You

re Noah.

Sort of, but not quite, Vet told him. He asked if Engineer
had showed him the beams. He responded yes, so Vet elaborated:

This planet was their last hope for survival. In order to
make it a liveable place for the remainder of their species, it had to be wiped
clean first. The beams had evaporated all animal life within their reach. This
meant almost every bird, horse, reptile, sheep, dog, frog, mouse, and Sumatran
tiger sucked up by the beams was being housed on this ship and many others like
it. Some things didn

t make it: fish, plankton,
lake-dwelling hippos, whales, as well as small insects and spiders and anything
too deep underground which was not reachable, but the vast majority of animals
on Earth now floated in the sky.

And most of it was instantly culled. Psycho was taken aback
by this truth. He had not been told this, nor had he overhead it in any of the
meetings he had attended. Vet looked remorseful. He said he should not be
telling a native all this, in case it upset him. Psycho was more curious than
upset and asked why.

Vet was in charge of all the specimens, both from his own
planet and from Psycho

s. He would have loved to keep
them all, but it was not practical and there was just not that much room
available. More than half of every species had been incinerated within the
first few days. Rare species were kept. Others were only kept in their
hundred-thousands. Psycho asked about the human population, but he refused to
comment. He wanted to see them. Vet was hesitant towards such a bold demand. He
kept saying it would just upset him, but Psycho promised it wouldn

t.

Vet knew it was an enormous breach in policy and secrecy,
but he liked Psycho. He had many conversations with him and they had shared a
lot of knowledge over these past weeks. He also pitied the natives; he saw his
own kind be quick with them, raise their voices at them, even strike them if
they clumsily dropped something precious or did something incorrect. Psycho
pleaded and pleaded to see the specimens and promised he

d never
tell, never ask for anything again. Defeated, Vet finally agreed, perhaps again
in pity.

 

He looked around him at the dark warehouse, at the hundreds
of thousands of glass pods stacked up and down the walls, each being fed through
tubes and swimming in brown water.

‘He took me here,

he said,

and,
sure enough, I eventually found you.

Lara was still awfully confused and frightened.

‘And this was ages ago? Why didn

t you free
me?

‘I couldn

t. I can

t.

‘Why not?

Psycho was hesitant to answer. He said solemnly,

I
just

I can

t betray them, Lo.

‘Who?


Them
.

Lara couldn

t believe what she was
hearing. She pounded on the glass again with her fists, making a dull echo.

‘Get me
the hell
out of here! What is wrong with you?

‘I can

t let them fail,

he said.

I

ve seen
what they

re trying to do. I

ve helped
them achieve so much. My loyalty is with Engineer now.


What?

‘I

ve followed him closely over
these past months. I

ve sat with him, spoken about
the universe with him. I

ve watched him lay down his
plans, and I

ve helped too. I

ve seen his
marvellous creations come to life with my own eyes, and it

s
beautiful. At first, yeah, we were almost strangers to one another, and to him
I was just a little puppy programmed to follow at his heel, but I have roles
now. I

ve helped Engineer in his construction of the new
world and I

ve helped take care of some of the hiccups. We’re
all doing this together.

Lara narrowed her eyes on him.

You’re

helping them? They destroyed our planet and you

re
helping
them
?

BOOK: Skyquakers
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