Road to nowhere, Arc 4 of "Gone with the Sun"
Chapter 44 Dust and water
Life
Melbourne was not quite as Shepard had imagined it.
For starters, it had been hit by a nocturnal kinetic strike, albeit just one; that had fallen in Port Phillip Bay, near what had been the Mud islands. Consequent blast effects had been accompanied by superheated steam, then mud and a tsunami as the Earth's crust reacted to the injury. Half the population was parboiled. Millions more suffocated in mud, night and fog. The entire shoreline for three to five kilometres inland had been efficiently sterilized along with their remains.
Today though, sun shone; there was blue sky and white fluffy clouds like on the Presidium ring, but real. Actual green was visible, growing along the shoreline. It had taken a few months, but it was there. So Miranda had stopped the shuttle first in a city centre razed to the tram tracks, exited, turned around taking in the nothing; then padded to the water's edge.
Examining plants recolonizing the sea strand took a mere two minutes. She looked up:
"Waypoint two, Jack."
Monster Monitor
Jack had taken the shuttle south-east a few klicks. Now Miranda stood wordlessly on a cracked concrete carriageway, gazing at a boxy mass of iron stranded some distance inland from the beach. Shepard eventually approached:
"Did you know this place?"
She looked back, shook her head.
"Not well. I've been here before, though."
"Where are we?"
"This was once Half Moon Bay. One of many. Auckland had one, worse hit."
"Wouldn't be surprised." The one in California was a blackened ruin too.
By now Shepard had creakily exited the shuttle and come abreast of her standpoint. Jack cut the thrusters and stepped out too. They began to move towards the strange rusty box. It looked like an old bunker shell, except for two cylindrical top burdens. Shepard stole a sidelong look. Miranda was back to being grim.
"Bad memories?" This just yielded a resolute stare and the laconic observation:
"Not of here. This wasn't my city. The Alliance is here because all the others of any significance in Oz are… completely gone."
Indeed, much of the infrastructure in distant suburbs was still in place. There was a significant remnant population; some two hundred thousand adults. The people and the proximity to Hobart had been enough to make Melbourne the base for re-establishing industry on the continent. Looking inland, there were dust clouds. Distant construction noises.
"There are still trees on the hills. How come there's anything left? Or anyone?"
Jack had been thinking about this too:
"This happened in the last couple of days of the war, no?"
Miranda, a little absently, agreed:
"Australians were a pretty mobile bunch. Too few people for such a huge place, you have to be prepared to get on your bike especially when fires come, and many did, instantly. A whole bunch fled the city within minutes when the Reapers first came. The kinetic strike got kids, the old, the frail, the stayers."
Shepard nodded. That sounded logical.
"So, going by their usual modus operandi, the Reaper strike had probably been intended as the first of a series, but the fleet interrupted them."
He began moving to the rusty oblong. Miranda looked skywards and remarked:
"In the southern hemisphere, it was pretty wintry by then, partly because of all the dust in the atmosphere. You didn't get the crippling hot temperatures even when it was summer. There were a lot of deaths from cold and exposure, though. The Alliance had to work smartly to get basic camps set up."
There were more than basic camps now. Some of the old infrastructure on higher ground, and in the shadow of hills, was still in place. The Alliance had taken over one of the old hospitals, in particular, and a bunch of prefab towns was springing up all around. Noting Jack and Miranda were trailing in his wake, Shepard remarked:
"So, anyway, no husking here?"
"Oh, there was, you bet. By the time the seasons turned, half the remaining population had crept back to pick the bones of the outer suburbs as far as Dandenong."
Sheesh. That's about ten klicks inland. Jack stopped, folded her arms, and hissed:
"Crap. Just in time for the Reapers to convert them?"
Miranda sighed, explaining: "They tried, but it was unusually difficult; most of the denizens were packing heat by then. Children generally died, but only two thirds or so of the remaining adults had been husked." Miranda was looking sadder now, survival of a few locals notwithstanding. Shaking her head, she continued:
"We should bugger off to the hospital. Kelly's expecting you, John."
"Wait up. We have a little time." Shepard put a hand against the rusting upturned steel:
"What was this thing?"
"Warship," declared Miranda. Her hand rose against the hull, alongside his. "Ancient Monster-class coastal defence monitor. Powerful, slow, shallow-draft. Decrepit thing sunk as a breakwater, then a museum piece. Tsunami pushed it here."
Something's very wrong here, thought Shepard, withdrawing. Miranda's hand stayed. She sounded distant, or distressed. Shepard moved close behind, asked carefully:
"Those steel cylinders?"
"Carried huge guns in turrets. Didn't have to fire broadside. Innovative. The first completely steam-powered ship in the old Royal Navy, oddly enough. Bit of a milestone."
"Damn peculiar looking ship," mumbled Jack, clearly not impressed. Miranda turned back:
"Even when it was new, yes, three centuries ago." There were tears in her eyes. She added:
"So much for defending the frontiers. Jack, Shepard; may I present to you Her Majesty's Victorian Ship, Cerberus. Says it all, really."
Cry me a river
This time, Kelly was in bed. Shepard sat alongside, observing:
"Last time, I was the one in bed feeling shredded. "
She did have a strained expression, despite recent pain relief; eyes semi-closed.
"Bit of a reversal, yes, Mister man. Though, Chloe says everything's 'nominal'."
"I'd get in and cuddle, but there's already two of you in there."
"Psh." The feeble attempt at humor brought a feeble but real smile. "I feel like a stranded whale. It's like some ancient horror vid where an alien takes over your carcass and converts it to more aliens."
"Sorry. That would be me, I guess."
"I don't remember complaining." Slight grin. "Thirty seconds in paradise, that's what I remember. Or maybe it was the second time, lasted a bit longer. Now I'm just this bloated construction site, and the larva is beating me up from the inside."
"And it's taking a lot longer than thirty seconds. How can you stand to look at me?"
"Kiss me." He complied. She was looking at him properly now.
"I must have put on twenty kilo. There's rumbling and grumbling like old water pipes deep inside me. There's an industrial-scale plumbing re-arrangement, I have to pee every couple of hours. It just goes on and on. But you're here, for now. It helps."
He reached up and stroked the hair around her temple. Kelly turned her face further into the pillow, closed those green eyes, murmured: "You can keep doing that."
Shepard noted with some surprise that indeed, he could. It had been less than two weeks. He was still spectrally thin, but stronger. He could lift his arm to stroke his girl's hair. That was new.
"Stars above, but you're beautiful." She opened her eyes again, slightly indignant:
"Are you kidding? My lips are a bit too red and swollen, I've got acne and mmph –"
This smooch took a lot longer. On release she held his gaze.
"Trust me on this. It's evolution in action, I think. Doesn't matter."
"If you say so. But it seems perverse."
Suddenly her eyes grew round. "Whoa!"
"More kicking?"
"Call Karin and Chloe. I've just felt a river come out between my legs."
Fission
Chakwas was assisting Chloe Michel ("I don't have much experience with the start of life, Shepard. More with the end.") They'd unceremoniously booted him from theatre, till he could be scrubbed and dressed in steriles.
Baby was apparently coming a little early.
Kelly did not look good, when he left; crow's feet appearing in the corner of her closed eyes. Labor pain and effort were well on the way to exhausting her, or so it seemed.
Ten minutes later and Dr Kerry expressed satisfaction with his steriles. Michel waved him back in just as his mom and Brynn arrived: Jacob was looking after little Stella. He had to go before he could give more than a hurried précis of events. Mom seemed to be fairly composed about it all ("I've been through it myself, John. Go now.")
She refused an epidural, muttered Chloe as he entered, clearly not happy about that.
Kelly's eyes were tight closed and face very pale, though still responding to encouragement to push. His own blood pounding in his ears, John asked Chakwas:
"Are you going to need a Caesarian section?"
"Apparently not even an episiotomy. She started out with an athlete's condition, and a lot of women have a much worse time. That's why we've called you in. Labor's been underway for only two hours and the baby's already 'crowning.'"
"She looks at the end of her tether." He wasn't feeling too good himself.
"It takes a lot out of a woman, Commander, but trust me I've seen much worse. Push Kelly, it's coming." And indeed a somewhat purple bulbous mound was appearing. He took her hand, which tightened around his surprisingly hard. Her eyes opened a little with a quivery smile. "I blame you for this, Shepard."
"You've been talking to Jack. But I blame me, too." (Push, Kelly.)
"Ngrrrgh. Wouldn't have it any other way. Ahhh!"
"Here it comes, girl. Push!" And now it was all happening very fast. A bright purple wrinkled loose face appeared quite quickly, first eyes, then nose. Chloe took the head in latex-covered fingers and pulled lightly. "Push, again, come on, just a little more."
All at once the purple blob became a baby, one shoulder, two shoulders, legs, mess! So much blood!
"Congratulations." (Chakwas). "It's a girl!" (Michel).
That was the last thing Shepard remembered before waking up on the floor.
Fusion
A moist towel had brought him around. That and lying flat on the floor for a few seconds, Chakwas holding his legs in the air, feet up to her armpits, restoring blood to brain. She was irritatingly ebullient about the whole business.
His mother came in and didn't know whether to laugh or cry, she said. Michel was more upset:
"I'm so sorry Shepard, I should have thought more about your injuries."
He'd never live that down, but didn't care. He'd been more concerned about Kelly. Still, although clearly very tired, she was awake and smiling.
Michel had cleared the child's nasal passages and this little wrinkled monkey face was now, to all appearances, asleep. Or at least, the eyes were closed.
"What's her name?" – asked Mom.
They'd been thinking about what to call this new person swaddled in white cloth against her mother's chest, but only settled on a girl's name yesterday. Kelly glanced up at him. He nodded.
"Hannah, meet happiness. Felicia."
Next chapter: #45, "Influence"
Sunday, July 26, 2015