The Second Wave (27 page)

“Summer gave me all of her reports to read.
Nothing new in them, too. Except that this woman must be highly
empathic, for on more than one occasion she knew facts about people
she hadn’t even been introduced to before.

“The last thing I know is that apparently she
didn’t die in the explosion after all. Five whole years she must
have lived in the mountains or the forest. She only returned to the
settlement shortly before the wormhole reopened, but I didn’t get
to see her again. Her…partner, this John character, he’s incredibly
protective of her. And this, General, is all I know.”

“More questions than answers, really,”
Fatique commented, somewhat disappointed. Elizabeth nodded.

“Did Doctors deLuca find out why the
accelerated time on Alternearth is back to normal now?”

Fatique shook his head. “I had a rather
brilliant theory, namely that we accidentally reconnected with the
other planet in the future instead of the present, but considering
they did their best not to snicker about it right in front of me, I
fear I was quite wrong, and we’re back to the snowing board
again.”

“But we’re going ahead with the Alpha Site
preparations?”

“We can’t afford not to.”

No, they couldn’t. Earth was withering away
as they spoke. After a moment of silence, Fatique quietly replied
to the unspoken question that hung in the air, as of yet untouched.
“The answer, my dear Elizabeth, is yes. Although I would miss your
expertise tremendously.”

Elizabeth smiled at him. She hadn’t yet made
up her mind whether she wanted to stay here or go back to
Alternearth. It was nice to know she had an option.

"I’ve made an appointment for you with
Annabella tomorrow morning," Fatique told her before he left. "I
thought it might be nice for you to talk with someone other than
me."

Elizabeth was sure she did not want to talk
to Annabella Guarini, the operation’s psychologist, as the two of
them had never got along well in the past. She nodded nonetheless;
she even managed a small smile.

* * * *

The reopening of the wormhole had little
effect on the daily life of the villagers, although it did mean
that the workers had to begin the erection of a second settlement—
what they had been initially hired to do in the first place, before
they were forced to settle down. Some of them went back to Earth,
but a few asked permission to bring their families to Alternearth,
a request General Fatique granted happily.

Next to the workmen’s barracks was the
greenery, of which Dr. Luke Wagner-Reyes was supervisor. A long,
one storied glass building that was greenhouse and research lab
complex at the same time, labs that belonged to the botany as well
as the geology department.

"Just put it down over there," Luke
instructed one of the assistants who came in carrying a small but
apparently heavy case. "I’ll have a look at it immediately." He
added, more to himself than to anyone in particular, "Finally."

As sole head of the botany, Luke had his own
lab and his own set of assistants, or co-workers, as he liked to
call them. In reality, he still did a lot of work for Peter,
including the analysis of what was in the steel carrying case Adina
had just now brought in from Earth. It was a small container, the
size of a lunchbox, and in it rested half a dozen soil samples from
Alternearth — all taken before the first wave settlers had gone
through. Luke and Peter had a couple of ideas concerning the
development of the planet, but to verify or dismiss them they
needed core samples from as many different times as possible;
including the core samples that had been kept in the Headquarters
on Earth, which had been inaccessible for the last years.

Carefully pushing a set of new tomato
seedlings aside that covered every horizontal surface of the room
at the moment, Luke picked up the case. They were trying to get a
new breed of tomatoes to grow: small, wooden boxes filled with
soil, hummus, and a new fertilizer Luke had put together cluttered
the workspace for now. Some boxes already sprouted the smallest
green leaves. If only two thirds of the plants grew to full size,
they’d have a decent amount of delicious tomatoes this summer.

Luke checked on a set of pots out of habit
before he left the room, case in hand, through the sliding door
leading to the greenery. Three of his co-workers were at work here,
fertilizing, replanting and hanging up herbs to dry. No matter how
harsh the winter, there was always enough to do in here. With quick
steps he crossed the greenhouse and reached the geo labs at the
other end of the building, where he hoped Peter was at work right
now. When Peter wasn’t at work or with his husband, he had the
unsettling habit of seeking out John’s company, something Luke
wasn’t happy about. Peter had accepted Luke’s marriage proposal two
years ago, but the botanist still felt that Peter wasn’t entirely
his, that some parts of his husband still belonged to John. He knew
it was ludicrous, he knew he had no reason to be jealous. Yet he
was; and in those rare moments of gloom he couldn’t help thinking
that Peter had settled on Luke, like he had settled on Duncan,
because ultimately he couldn’t have John.

He shook off the dark thoughts. With one foot
he opened the door to the geo labs. There was Peter, sitting at a
table, sorting stones. His brow furrowed in concentration, his
demeanour that of a man who has forgotten there was a world outside
his head. The sight conjured up an affectionate smile on Luke’s
earnest face.

“Do you know that this stone comes from the
same quarry, and the same stratum in fact, as these two,” Peter
told him after they greeted each other, “and yet it shows
completely different qualities?! As if it were several hundred
years younger than its neighbor!”

Luke shrugged. “Maybe it is. It wouldn’t be
the first chronological anomaly we’ve encountered.”

“No,” mumbled Peter. “It wouldn’t.”

Luke found a relatively uncluttered space on
the table to put down the case he was still carrying. At the sight
of it Peter perked, immediately forgetting about the mystery of the
anachronistical rock. He demanded to know what was inside, and Luke
tormented him by merely silently opening the case so Peter could
see for himself.

“Soil samples!” he burst out, almost like a
six-year-old boy who has found a fantastic snake in the garden. The
two men shared a goofy grin.

“I will get the microscope!” Peter offered,
ecstatic.

“And I the other core samples,” Luke replied,
no less enthusiastic than his husband.

In a matter of minutes, the desktop was freed
from what had occupied it before, only to be cluttered once again
by soil samples, microscopes and previously printed-out results.
Then Peter and Luke immersed themselves in their work, forgetting
every worry, care, or jealousy.

* * * *

Eugenia got worse and then better. She stayed
in bed for the better half of a week before she was finally well
enough to get up and walk about again. She’d relapse into mumbling
nonsense occasionally, or at least it seemed like nonsense to John,
but he accepted it as part of the deal. He got her back, that was
what counted. He didn’t care much for the state she was in—damaged
goods or not, they were together; everything else would fall into
place.

Eventually she recovered enough to go
outside, which was a great relief to John, as it meant he could go
to work again—checking the stables and preparing his boat. He had
tried to do so before, but found he couldn’t leave her for long.
His body would start convulsing, as if deprived of oxygen or some
other essential it needed to survive. It was unsettling and yet it
came as no surprise to him when he found out she was the cause of
this strange suffering. Ever since her return, his life had begun
to revolve around the woman, as she seemed to fill a void in him he
hadn’t known was there before they had met.

Today he carefully wrapped her in a thick
coat and equipped her with a woollen hat and scarf.

“Are we leaving?” she asked when she managed
to peel layers of scarf off her face again, enough to move her
lips. By way of an answer he opened the door for her, and together
they stepped outside into the cold. They immediately sank into six
inches of freshly fallen snow.

“We are going to the stables,” he finally
said. “I have to tend to the hounds.”

Compliantly she followed in his footsteps.
The snow was unusual. After the harbingers showed up it never
snowed anymore. The weather should have already changed abruptly to
spring, like every year. The long winter made the animals uneasy.
The horses were nervous, impatiently waiting for warmer days, and
the hounds were short tempered because of the change of schedule.
John didn’t need to check on them to know this. He could feel their
confusion.

The hounds had a pen of their own, an
additional stable. When the village expanded and the fence was
moved, the stables and pens had stayed inside the perimeter rather
than being moved with the fence. They were now immediately behind
the hospital.

Marching through the cold which, because of
her attire, was so much less gruesome than before, Eugenia was
excited to see the hounds John spoke about so often. She knew which
creatures he meant, the ones that lived under and in the forest.
They had ferocious souls and beautiful, wild spirits, but she had
never seen them.

Her boots were two sizes too big. The right
foot caught in something and she stumbled. She still wasn’t used to
the slowness and the closeness of it all; falling down was
something she got better and better at. John’s arm was immediately
there to steady her.

“Perhaps it is too soon for you to go outside
after all,” he said. “We should return.”

She shook her head, a gesture she had seen
her people use often. “I want to see your hounds. There is still so
much I have yet to see.”

“Another time.”

“Today, John. You’re tired of being inside
all the time, and so am I. Now that she has left me I must look at
everything myself to understand.”

He knew she was right about the two of them
wanting to go outside, so he resumed his way to the stables without
further discussion. But he made sure to walk more slowly and keep
an eye on her. She was in a good mood today, her mind seemed as
clear as ever, which was why he tried to ask her once more about
who had left her and why she felt she was alone even in his
presence. By way of an answer she stopped. She squatted down and
began digging through the snow until she found a patch of frozen
grass underneath. She gave it an explanative pat.

“The planet?” he asked. “The planet has left
you?” It made no sense to him, but she nodded nonetheless.

“You have a name for it,” she recalled. “You
call it Alternearth.”

“That’s right.” He watched her as she stroked
the cold earth fondly. “How do you call it?”

“Mother,” she replied. Then she got up.
Recognizing the stables ahead, she marched towards them. This time
it was John who followed her lead. There was no one else around,
their boots crunching through the snow was the only sound audible
on that serene morning.

“How can the planet leave you?” John
asked.

“I don’t know. She used to be around and
inside me. We used to be like one. But I think she left me when I
chose you over my people.” She didn’t elaborate, so he demanded
more explanations. She had tried to explain it to him many times
before, but her words were inadequate, and what she said made no
sense to him. Still she tried one more time:

“In the darkness I was everything. I heard
every sound and every thought. We protected all the living things,
they called me their Goddess. I heard them in their dreams and in
their prayers when they spoke to me.

“Mother gave them all they needed and I gave
them all the love I had. They didn’t want to forget me, but they
left anyway. For a better life. For a new mother. I came looking
for them, but they were all gone by then. Instead I found you.”
John wasn’t sure if by ‘you’ she meant him or the second wavers in
general. “When I went back into the darkness again, I made a
decision. I chose you over my new people. I chose the headache and
the slowness and the feeling of not belonging, because it means
being with you. I accept the consequences of my decision, John, but
I miss her so much.”

Deep in the forest, the half crumbled down
remains of the temple were covered in a thin, immaculate veil of
snow. Thin, because the spot was protected by a canopy of trees;
immaculate, because not even animal footprints could be found in
it. The planet’s fauna gave this place a berth, maybe out of
respect for its owner. Not so the flora, that tried its best to
overgrow the tumbled down walls, to keep them hidden from view.

It was this place where Eugenia led John
after he fed and calmed the hounds. He still understood only half
of what she tried to tell him, but she wanted him so much to know
who she was. So she watched him walked around the walls of her
home. Examine the overgrown ruins.

He brushed away the white blanket and
uncovered the marble stones beneath. The writings he discovered
there were unintelligible, washed away by wind and rain. He took
off the gloves and used the tips of his fingers to trace down the
words. She watched his lips move with every new letter while he
slowly tried to make sense of what he read, until his fingers
finally became numb from the cold, and Eugenia began coughing
despite her warm attire.

It wasn’t a temple, he realized but didn’t
tell her. It was a tomb. Seen in the light of this new discovery, a
lot of what she had told him about the darkness made sense. How she
had survived he couldn’t begin to fathom, maybe the planet had kept
her alive by the strange bond they had or used to have. The bond
that broke the day the passage to Earth reopened. He had no idea
who or what she was, but he knew now that she was more than just a
crazy girl.