Multitude, p.2
Multitude, page 2
part #2 of Dimension Space Series
Vaughn pointed at the wide distribution of the falling rocks. “Look!” he shouted, again trying to sound more certain than he felt. “We’re not even at the center of the impacts. It’s not aimed at us.” He looked up. “There’s nothing intelligent behind—! Oh shit!”
Another section of pavement was flying directly toward them. This one looked to be a hundred yards long, easily the largest one yet.
Vaughn grabbed Angela’s arm, intent on pulling her to safety, but there was nowhere to go.
Frozen in place, they watched the implement of their death as it raced earthward.
Then the massive length of road passed overhead. Vaughn hugged Angela to him as they braced for impact, but somehow it missed the yacht and slammed into the ocean just ahead of it. The ship’s bow heaved into the air as the impact launched a wave of water over the boat and rained spray down on Angela and Vaughn.
A moment later, the last of the small islands passed off to their left.
Vaughn tapped the fortunately waterproof tablet computer, commanding the ship to turn toward the open ocean, and it finally pulled entirely out from under the line of levitating structures.
Dripping wet and panting, they stared at the still twisting suspension bridge.
Vaughn pointed. “See? It’s still heading northwest. It’s not following us. No one is trying to take us out.”
Angela’s eyes narrowed. The muscles in her jaw worked. “You can be a real asshole, Captain!” Then she turned and stormed away, shouting over her shoulder as she did. “Just tell me when we get to Monte Carlo!”
Vaughn looked down and saw his face reflected in the tablet’s screen.
“Well, Captain Asshole, that didn’t take long.”
Chapter 2
The bedroom doors slowly slid open as Angela stormed down the hallway. Impatient, she grabbed the panels and shoved them apart as she walked into the room.
She growled angrily. Who the hell did he think he was?
Exhausted, Angela collapsed into the cozy embrace of the room’s expansive circular bed. She could still feel the effects of her extended stay aboard the station. The two weeks that they had spent in Tripoli had helped, but she still tired easily.
During her months trapped aboard the station, Angela had tried to stay in shape, exercising regularly. However, as her food supplies had dwindled, she had abandoned those efforts. No sense in being physically fit if it would only lead to starving to death, leaving behind an emaciated but nicely toned cadaver.
By the time Vaughn had discovered her existence and then made his way to the space station, she had been near death.
The descent back to Earth had nearly killed them both.
After bailing out of the ship moments before it exploded, each of them had narrowly survived their separate parachute crash-landings on North Africa’s Mediterranean coastline.
Angela’s anger withered as she recalled the series of events that nearly killed them again when they had reunited in Tripoli’s port. Vaughn had spent the next two weeks nursing her back to health.
Over that time, she had grown fond of her rescuer, had even made love to him once she’d recovered enough to do so.
Angela felt the rest of her anger melt away as she remembered the tentative, almost frightened way he had held her as if worried he might break her.
Her spreading smile faltered as she thought about the look that periodically crossed Vaughn’s face. It wasn’t creepy or anything like that. It was as if she could see doubts marching across his face. About what, she didn’t know. When it happened, Vaughn would suddenly withdraw from her, become distant.
Doubts?
About what?
Me?
Angela’s brow furrowed. Could it be that? They had only known each other for a couple of weeks. Maybe he—
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
Raising her head, Angela stared at the door. “Hello?”
The two panels slid apart to reveal Vaughn. He stood silently, a sheepish grin on his face. Then he produced something from behind his back, and Angela burst into laughter.
He shook the yellow bag of Funyuns. “Are you hangry?” A look of mock horror crossed his face. “Sorry, sorry! I meant, are you hungry?” He sat on the edge of the bed.
Angela smirked, giving Vaughn the stink eye as she snatched the Funyuns.
He shook his head, eyebrows raised with exaggerated innocence. “No, not hangry,” he scoffed. “I have no idea where that even came from.”
Angela rolled over to Vaughn’s side of the bed. Smiling devilishly, she tore the bag open with her teeth and then dug out a ring and crunched it theatrically. Crumbs fell, tumbling off her lap and onto his portion of the sheets.
“Oops.”
Vaughn stared at her silently for a moment. Then he laughed and lunged across the bed. Throwing his arms around her, he rolled over, pulling her on top of him.
He kissed Angela and then looked into her eyes. “Sorry for—“
She pressed a finger to his lips. “You had me at Funyuns. Now, less talking, more kissing.”
Chapter 3
Vaughn hoisted heavy lids. Trying to blink the sleep from his eyes, he stared up at the mahogany ceiling of the yacht’s spacious quarters. Angela was lying on his left shoulder. She murmured and then fell back into sleep, resuming the cadence of her soft breathing.
Running a finger along the curve of her chin, Vaughn shook his head. Angela was starting to see him for the jackass that he was. He might be the last man on Earth, but considering his history, it wasn’t like he was going to let a little thing like that stop him from screwing it up.
Angela flinched as an alarm next to the bed began to blare.
Vaughn had set the yacht’s autopilot for Monte Carlo. Before falling asleep, he’d also set the alarm to wake him before they got too close to the coastal city. Because he was still in no rush to get to Geneva and he figured they needed a good night’s rest, he'd set the yacht’s speed at just above idle, making an overnight affair out of the relatively short trip from the strait to Monte Carlo.
He mashed a button on its top, and the blaring ceased.
Still lying on his shoulder, Angela began to stir. Her eyes flickered and then opened.
He smiled self-consciously. “It’s time.”
After a moment, her eyes focused and then she nodded. “Okay.”
They climbed from the bed and dressed in silence. Then Angela grabbed the remains of the Funyuns bag and held it up. “I know who will love the rest of this.”
She walked into the closet that he had converted into a habitat for her little white mice.
Seeing Angela approach, Nate Junior and his family scampered to the yellow habitat’s near side. She lifted the lid, and the little guys stood on their hind legs, squeaking in anticipation. She gave each a golden ring. With their ridiculously large snacks clutched firmly in their tiny mouths, they ran off in different directions, bouncing clumsily off corners and tubes as they sought a place to eat in privacy.
After exchanging amused glances, Vaughn and Angela left the bedroom and headed to the bridge.
Earlier, they had plotted the levitating line of steel on the map and determined that it would cross Europe’s Mediterranean coast a few miles east of Monte Carlo. Intent on using the city-state’s harbor, they had set it as their destination.
“We should be in sight of the city now,” Vaughn said.
Angela nodded as she entered the control room ahead of him, but then stopped mid-step. “Oh no…”
Vaughn nearly ran into her back. “What?”
When she didn’t respond, he gently placed his hands on her shoulders and guided her the rest of the way onto the bridge.
Then he too froze. “Oh shit!”
They were in sight of it alright, but what he saw didn’t look very welcoming.
The port and the entire hillside city beyond it was nothing but a charred remnant of its former glory. In the bay’s royal blue water, a few metal-hulled yachts stood tall above row upon row of ruined ship remnants. Most of the boats in the harbor had burned to the waterline, leaving nothing but the jagged outlines where their hulls barely protruded from the surreally tranquil water.
Vaughn tore his eyes from the catastrophic scene and looked right. Overhead to the east, the line of steel structures that they’d followed across the Mediterranean crossed the beach right where they had estimated. From there, it continued north by northwest, its far end blocked from sight by the mountains that it crossed.
Vaughn looked left and then pointed. “Look!”
In the distance to their west, barely discernible through the midday haze, a second line of levitating structures was now visible as it slowly scrolled over the coastline.
It was the adjacent petal of the Gravity Flower.
Judging by its angle, Vaughn estimated that it would indeed converge with their line over Geneva.
Vaughn stepped up to the helm. He had programmed the autopilot to bring the ship to a stop at this location. Now he guided the yacht closer to the harbor so they could get a closer look.
Several minutes later, he stopped the ship again.
It looked as if the fire had started in the port area and then climbed up Monte Carlo’s steep, rocky slopes.
Giving the entire image a surreal highlight, a cascading waterfall had cut through the city, turning the remnants of its many switchback roads into a multi-tiered waterfall. Where the torrent splashed down into the bay, the late morning sun cast a wide, arcing rainbow over the tragic scene.
Vaughn closed his eyes and gnashed his teeth.
Why had he ever agreed to this fool’s errand?
Against all reason, he had hoped that they could at least have a mini-vacation here in Monte Carlo, that they could relax and recuperate for a few more days before continuing inland, but this version of the city-state left them with only two real choices. Either they continued via helicopter, using the one stored in the yacht’s hangar, or they turned this bus around and headed toward some tropical paradise.
Vaughn knew what would ensue if he suggested that second option.
However, Angela only needed one look at his face to know that it was on his mind again.
“Vaughn, whoever …” She paused and then shook her head. “Sorry, whatever caused this …” She gestured toward the shoreline with the broad sweep of her arm. “This and everything else, it may not be finished.”
Vaughn nodded. “Exactly! That is why we need to get as far away as we can, get to safety before something reaches out and snatches us as well.”
Angela continued shaking her head. “I know you don’t think there is an external force at work, but whatever caused this, it didn’t stop until it swept across the entire planet. I saw it with my own eyes. If something like that happens again, it won’t matter if we’re in the Caribbean or even Tahiti. We won’t be able to get far enough away.”
He shook his head, but before he could speak, she continued.
“If it is a rift, as you say, maybe we can do something about it. Maybe we can shut it down. Then we can live in peace wherever you want.”
Vaughn’s mouth fell open as he realized that she had used his own argument to back him into a corner.
He sighed and cursed under his breath. “Shit.”
Finally, he nodded. “Alright, I’ll get the helicopter ready.”
Angela smiled. “Thank you, Vaughn. I’ll pack a bag for us.” Then she kissed him on the cheek and darted from the room.
Vaughn turned and glared through the bridge’s window. She just couldn’t accept that her friends at CERN had caused this.
He looked up, warily eyeing the converging lines of steel structures. He worried that the closer they got to Geneva, the more likely it was that they would get sucked into whatever force was dragging in all of that steel.
And Angela was willing to risk it.
“Of course she is,” Vaughn said, shaking his head. “Why would she want to live happily ever after with Captain Asshole?”
Chapter 4
Angela watched as another mountain peak glided past the helicopter. An hour ago, they had left the burned-out husk of Monte Carlo. Now a beautiful landscape scrolled beneath their aircraft. Over that hour, she’d seen many Alpine villages that would have looked entirely at home on a postcard. The months-long absence of humanity hadn’t appreciably tainted their beauty. Houses with steep-pitched roofs dotted lush, green fields. Only sporadic patches of overgrown vegetation along with the periodic burned-out structure or washed-out bridge hinted at the land’s dark and lonely desolation.
Angela glimpsed an incredible sight as Vaughn guided the helicopter through another mountain pass. She leaned forward and peered across him. Her eyes widened. She pointed, extending an arm so quickly it slammed into Vaughn’s chest. “Look at that!”
He cast an annoyed glance at her. Then he turned in the indicated direction and did a double take.
Angela and Vaughn watched in silent amazement as they flew past a large, levitating ferryboat. Even though the ship was upside down, the automobiles on its deck stuck to it like a formation of inverted geckos clinging to a ceiling. The ferry had a full complement of vehicular passengers. It appeared that not a single car or truck had fallen away from its upside-down deck.
The ship and its impossible cargo disappeared behind them as the helicopter’s significantly faster pace carried it farther down the seemingly unending line of steel.
Vaughn had held the aircraft at a respectable distance from the parade of levitating structures. Unfortunately, the helicopter didn’t have sufficient power to cross the top of the mountains. They had only moved this close to the line because it intersected with the same mountain pass that they’d been forced through.
Angela saw Vaughn glance down at the instrument panel, a worried look on his face.
“What’s wrong?”
“We need fuel.” He tapped one of the panel’s computer screens, pointing at two vertical ribbons. They were empty but for slivers of yellow at their bottoms.
Angela realized the ribbons must be fuel level indicators.
“If we don't find some in the next ten minutes, I'm going to have to land this thing.”
“Why is the fuel so low?”
Vaughn gave her an embarrassed look. “I wanted to get more in Tripoli, had planned to top off the helicopter’s fuel there.” He smiled self-consciously. “But after all those hundred-foot-wide steel fuel tanks started ripping out of their mounts and flying into the sky, it no longer seemed like such a good idea.”
The helicopter flew out of the mouth of the pass and emerged over another valley.
Vaughn peeled the chopper away from the steel structures.
Ahead, the line of them tilted downhill and began to descend toward a point where it passed just above the lower ridgeline ahead of them on the far side of the valley.
As Angela peered through a cut in that lower line of hills, she saw a flicker of light.
Squinting her eyes, she pointed ahead at the reflective surface. “Do you see that?”
Vaughn continued to scan the valley floor beneath them. “See what?”
“I see something through that cut in the next ridge.” She tapped his shoulder and then jabbed her finger ahead. “Is that Lake Geneva?”
Vaughn looked up and suddenly tensed. After a long moment, he gave her a sideward glance but didn’t comment.
“What?” Angela looked from him and furrowed her brow as she tried to resolve the distant fuzzy reflection. “What’s wrong?”
Still Vaughn didn’t respond, but the uneasy look on his face had Angela concerned.
Through slitted eyes he continued to silently stare ahead.
Angela couldn't stand it any longer. “What?!”
Vaughn glanced at her again and then shook his head. He shifted his gaze to the valley floor. “We better land. I’ve been looking for a place to get fuel, but every airport has either been burned up or is missing its fuel tanks.”
As Vaughn spoke, Angela squinted as she tried to resolve the distant glint of light.
Vaughn released one of the helicopter’s control levers and pointed to their front left. “Check out that airfield. I'd settle for siphoning fuel from other aircraft, but now, even they are gone.”
Reluctantly, Angela pulled her gaze from the mysterious reflection and looked down. She scanned the field’s ramps and taxiways but didn’t see anything, no structures or equipment. If not for the recognizable pattern of grass and concrete, it would have been difficult to tell it had ever been an airport.
She looked at the fuel gauge. “How much longer till—?”
Suddenly, the noise coming from the helicopter changed.
Angela gripped the sides of her seat, her nails digging into the fabric.
“What happened?! Did we run out of fuel?”
“No!” Vaughn shouted. He grunted with exertion as he fought with the aircraft’s controls. The veins of his arms pulsed with the effort.
The engines screamed, their high-pitched squeals oscillating insanely.
Both of their upper bodies lunged to the left as the helicopter lurched right.
“What are you doing?!”
Vaughn shook his head. “That wasn’t me!”
Angela screamed and slammed a hand into the ceiling as her body floated up out of the seat.
The helicopter began to fall out of the sky.
Her shoulders pressed painfully into the harnesses as the straps became the only thing that kept Angela in her seat.
Vaughn reached over and slammed down the lever that extended the retractable landing gear. “I’m getting us on the ground, now!”
The helicopter rocked again.
Vaughn grunted as he yanked the controls and righted the chopper. “That wasn’t me either! Must be mountain turbulence.” He shook his head. “But I’ve never felt it this bad!”
The aircraft continued its emergency descent.
The valley floor rushed up toward them.
At the last possible moment, Vaughn flared the helicopter. He pulled the center stick back, and the aircraft’s nose heaved upward. Their speed and rate of descent slowed precipitously, but the helicopter’s gyrations and oscillations continued throughout the maneuver.
