Day Three
THE JOURNEY by skycraft from the station to the council building proved longer than Unquill anticipated.
Kenneth slept for a while, woke up, then found himself hungry. Unquill informed him that he had slept for nine hours.
A gray metal box at the rear of the craft contained all manner of survival gear-thick yellow rope, a first aid kit, a gallon of water and, to his surprise, silver tins with the word "RATIONS" printed on them. He peeled open one of them to discover a small black spoon and a mound of white mush. When he asked Unquill what that food might be, he said children received such things until they grew into their ability to sustain themselves.
Kenneth took a spoonful and put it into his mouth. It tasted like wet, bland sawdust. His hunger drove him to try another spoonful, then another. Savannah, watching him eat, asked for one of her own. She made a face at the food, but ate it just the same.
Kenneth had finished off half the tin before he set it aside, either unwilling or unable to eat another bite.
While his aches and pains receded, in their place came an itch on the small of his back that he always felt whenever he went too long without a shower.
He sniffed at his underarms. He didn't notice anything, though he didn't know if that condition would last, either. Since no one had warned him he would be snatched out of his school to travel over five thousand years into the future, he hadn't thought to pack deodorant.
Even though Unquill said they didn't have far to go before they reached the council building, Kenneth nonetheless found himself bored quickly. The skycraft didn't come with video games, or board games, or a television monitor, or anything he might have expected to amuse himself on a long flight such as this. When he asked what people did to pass the time on skycrafts, Unquill replied in a matter-of-fact tone, "We talk to each other."
Kenneth found he didn't have much to say to Unquill or Savannah. He considered asking if there was any other food, even though he hadn't seen any. He silently wondered, for the fourth time, how long it would take to arrive at their destination. He also figured he could ask Savannah if she thought they had a shot at making it out of the future alive.
He didn't ask any of those questions.
He kept to himself, thinking of home.
He missed his family.
His father, a balding man of forty-seven, always read the newspaper every evening, rain or shine. Kenneth usually stood next to his father at the kitchen table while they worked out the crossword puzzle of the day.
Kenneth remembered his father's glasses, usually smudged at the end of a long day, sitting on the table next to a glass bowl full of green apples. He'd never remember to take them off, or clean them, unless someone told him to do so.
Kenneth had always reminded his father every evening before they began the puzzle. Every evening, his father always took his glasses off, leaving them on the table for him to find the next morning.
Except, one evening, Kenneth had been outside playing kickball with a group of kids from the neighborhood. The game had gone on longer than expected because the ball had rolled down a hill into a clump of underbrush. Kenneth had spent the better part of half an hour searching for the only ball they had.
Kenneth finally found the red kickball nestled against a thorn bush.
Pulling the ball free, air whooshed out of the ball.
A thorn had punctured it.
His days of playing kickball ended-at least for a while.
HIS FATHER had started the crossword without him.
Seven o'clock had already struck. The middle-aged man sat there, newspaper spread before him, pencil in hand.
Kenneth saw that his father's glasses had clouded up.
He had wondered then, as he wondered now, how his father had ever seen anything at all. Kenneth reminded his father as he always had.
He expected his father to put the glasses on the table without comment.
On that particular evening, however, Kenneth heard his father mumble a phrase.
He heard it perfectly well, yet he couldn't bring himself to believe what he'd heard.
He didn't ask for clarification. None was needed.
He didn't ask his father to remove his glasses a second time. Kenneth stood there, waiting for his father to make up his mind about what he wanted to do.
So dreadful had been the revelation to Kenneth that he could do nothing. His knees had frozen up. He was acutely conscious of his breathing.
Kenneth didn't want to breathe too deeply, lest he disturb his father's train of thought.
Kenneth's father had proclaimed in a hushed tone, "I'm going blind."
THERE HAD BEEN TALK of surgery. Such things were not impossible. Kenneth didn't understand all the particulars involved. He didn't know what might be the benefit of having a laser procedure. He only knew that his parents couldn't afford it, even if they went abroad to have it done. That meant, so far as he could tell, that his father wouldn't need glasses anymore.
Such had been the situation before he left.
Kenneth held his knees close against his chest.
He asked Unquill, "What do we talk about?"
Unquill blinked at him in surprise. He took a moment to respond before he said, "We can talk about anything at all. We have, I'd say, another two hours before we have to face the symphony."
Savannah said quietly, "Music."
Kenneth said, "Okay, let's talk about why we're moving downwards, instead of straight."
Unquill frowned.
He looked at the control display.
"You're right," he said. "We're no longer on course for the Council of Thirds. This has never happened before. It's almost as if-as if the skycraft system itself has been altered."
"That's not possible, is it?" Kenneth asked.
"No, not for us. Only the Soonseen can-well, they must have. I mean, just look at it. Oh dear, we're heading for open space. Let's see," Unquill said, pressing buttons on the display. A number came up. "This says that our course has been altered. If this is right-and it must be right-we're going to crash!"
"No way," Savannah said. She had been rummaging through the supply box. She closed it at once.
"But we'll-we'll crash into nothing. There's nothing there," Unquill said.
A proximity alarm sounded throughout the craft. Red lights flashed. Kenneth felt the acceleration before he heard the craft's straining. It tilted at an angle, pointing downward. The craft shook as it gained speed.
Before he closed his eyes, Savannah sat next to him.
She squeezed his hand tight.
He squeezed back.