Ring looked exactly like Tomika expected: nothing like anything around it. His neighbors lived in their small English manors with various Elizabethan curves and flourishes, but Keven’s place was a square gray box with one floor and one window. Tomika seen others like it on her tour around the Ring—they were former warehouses used to hold the neighborhood landscaping supplies.
She understood why Keven lived here. He lived his life in an Engineer’s cabin with precise corners and no view of the outside world. Even so, the sight made her a little sad, knowing that he never truly fit in among the Burners, and here he was again, the obvious outlier. The literal square peg in a round world.
She hefted her backpack as she steeled herself and knocked on the door.
Keven’s voice rang out. “Go away!”
The voice didn’t come from inside. Tomika walked to the rear of the house. Keven sat with his back to her, and when she looked over his shoulder, he appeared to be reading a real book, not a pad or tablet. He was ignoring the soccer game in the field in the distance.
“I’ve never seen one of those,” Tomika said.
“And you will likely never see another again. Did you hear me? Go away!”
“Keven.”
“Joro, you retired me. I’m staying retired!”
Joro? “I’m not my mother, Keven.”
“Eh? Come around. Come around. Oh, my stars and garters. Tomika! You’ve grown! Give an old man a kiss on the cheek then get yourself a chair.”
Tomika did as she was bid, thinking that Keven always appeared old to her but never as old as he was now. What used to be gray in his full beard was now white, and no hair remained on his large head. His belly was larger, and it shook before as he talked, and she was sure his cheeks would still turn red whenever he “got his Edinburgh temper rolling,” like he used to say. He was wearing a one-piece coverall like many wore in the Ring, and his feet were bare and pale.
“Tomika, you’re not wearing ponytails anymore.”
“Keven, that was fifteen years ago.”
“My God, you talk exactly like her. That’s not an insult, you know. I have the greatest affection for your mother.” He pointed at a small pitcher on a table near him. “Glass of water?”
“Please.”
“Could you pour, dear? A second glass is under there. I will never get used to having this much water after sending every spare drop in the Back to our farms. The Ring doesn’t know how blessed they are.” He chuckled.
She liked his laughter—it seemed to come from his entire body, like his anger. Like her mother, he didn’t suffer fools, and he gladly roasted them with his fury back in the day. It was a remarkable sight when you weren’t the target.
She filled their glasses and took a sip. “Thank you. What are you reading?”
He held up the book. “Our history. Specifically, what led our people to build and board this ship many years ago.”
“They taught us all that in school.”
“Not this,” Keven said. “Read the cover.”
It took Tomika a moment to translate the words. “‘The Cyborg Pacts.’ The letters are weird.”
“Yes, well, we’ve tried to keep our written language consistent with that of the Original Builders, but some changes are bound to creep in. Once you get used to the differences, it’s no matter at all.”
Tomika wasn’t ready to spring the reason for her visit on him. “Tell me about them. The Pacts.”
“That’s not why you are here.”
“I’m still curious.”
Keven eyed her suspiciously. “You have something on your mind, but I suppose you’ll tell me in your good time.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “A sad tale from beginning to end, starting with the raping of Mother Earth and the use of pilotless drones. They’re connected. All of it is our truest history, the reason we’re on this old boat. It’s a long story.”
“I have the time.”
“Fine.” He settled into his chair. “Humankind long treated their planet like a garbage dump, and its deep oceans were turned into chemical- and nuclear-waste disposal sites. You know all this. Man never got over his belief that natural resources were infinite, and sadly, we are here because of that mistake. God forgive us if we make the same mistake again. This was before the Builders created this first and only Apocalypse Ship—”
“Excuse me?”
Keven opened his eyes and smiled as he patted the arm of his chair. “Salvation was called many things, but she was called the Apocalypse Ship by most humanity at the time. Seats and passage were sought after fiercely. Some of those destined to be left behind became combative and tried to interfere with its departure. They were nearly successful. That’s a story for another day.”
“Fine.” Tomika wanted to hear more, but Keven told his tall tales at his pace.
“Where was I? Ah, yes. Decades before the Apocalypse Ship program was set in motion, nations built offensive armies for the purpose of gathering and protecting natural resources, notably water.” He pointed at the pitcher for emphasis. “Smaller countries could not hope to compete with larger countries, so they entered mutual alliances and began building armies. The situation became tenuous and volatile quickly, with incursions here and there, until someone fired a destructive weapon where it did not belong, killing untold thousands. A world war began. The last world war of many.
“The largest country predicted this outcome and had already taken a dramatic leap in military technology. They decided that if pilotless drones could dominate the skies, why not try something similar on the ground? Using the most advanced science on the planet, they built a robotic army with a most horrid twist. Perhaps the greatest war crime in the history of human history, and that’s saying something.”
“I don’t want to know, do I?” Tomika asked.
“I’ve seen the film and still have nightmares, my dear. Not exaggerating.”
“Tell me.”
Keven shuddered. “Cloned human brains. Able to think and aim their weapons as each situation required with maximum damage and death. Programmed to kill without remorse, without ethics, and without feelings. Mankind’s most perfect killing machines, guided on their missions from distant locations around the world. Combined with the technology of the times, fifty of them could wipe out a small town and often did. No one was spared.
“As a positive result to this story, the Cyborgs brought the rest of the world together. After all, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ It took years, but united as they never were before, mankind finally destroyed the Cyborgs and the country that gave birth to them. But billions died in the effort, and the planet was left more devastated than before. Much more devastated.
“Those who were left realized they were living on borrowed time, and they became the Original Builders who set the Apocalypse Ship program in motion. Sadly, or ironically, or fortuitously, depending on your level of cynicism, the billions who died meant resources were consumed at a slower pace, but everyone could see the end was nigh. Through this sad paradox, the Builders were given the time needed to engage in the most ambitious and positive space-going project in our existence—the Apocalypse Ship program.”
Keven paused, nodding. “Built under the banner of unification and survival, the construction of Salvation proceeded as rapidly as you would think when people realized the race would die as one without it. Even so, the program was not universally applauded. Many believed too much was being directed at construction and not enough to the survivability of those left behind. Despite what happened in their lifetimes, another war almost broke out. As it goes, however, when the rich and powerful really want something to happen, it happens. Our ship was built, it was launched to the stars, and the tens of thousands aboard were saved.”
Keven wiped his eyes. “As far as we know, ours was the only one built, though others were promised. My old, tired heart can’t help but believe Earth is no more. Even if I am wrong, the fate of the millions left behind is unknown.”
Tomika’s mind reeled, and she tried to find some sense in his words. “But there must have been attempts to change things.”
“Several.” He smiled gently. “I understand your conflict. You’ve been raised in a culture with a centralized government, one that’s existed for thousands of years since we left Earth. There was no single global government until the Original Builders were formed to save humanity. Even then, their grasp was tenuous. Care to guess the identity of their greatest adversary?”
“I have no idea.”
Keven filled their glasses from the pitcher, a move Tomika was sure he was making for dramatic effect. “The Catholic Church.”
She almost dropped her glass. “No.”
“Yes. They were passionate in their beliefs that mankind remain on the planet where our Savior walked. It didn’t matter that the part of the world He inhabited had long been irradiated by warfare and made uninhabitable. Probably still is, in fact. Nevertheless, the Church was adamant. They were prepared to excommunicate any and all who boarded Salvation. Their stance was powerful and not to be underestimated. They were one of the last historical worldwide political bodies on the planets.”
“But how? I mean, what changed their minds?”
“You’re rather bright, child. What would be your best guess?”
Tomika’s thoughts whirled. “I guess reality. They were finally convinced that human life was ending.”
“Close.” Keven sighed. “If I were a cynic—”
“You are.”
“Don’t interrupt. If I were a cynic, I would say it was a widespread case of cowardice on both sides in the face of facts. The Original Builders needed the Church to be an ally to persuade the masses to their cause, and as you said, the Church had a dose of reality. The two bodies met in the middle, and the Catholic Church became the official religion of the Salvation with a fair number of seats set aside for its leaders and their families.”Tomika felt her mind swirl from the new information. “We were never told this in school.”
“No, I suppose it isn’t,” Keven said sadly. “Better to tell the story as if mankind marched to the stars shoulder to shoulder with arms linked in triumph, but that was not the case. We were rats caught in a trap of our own making, and stronger rats swarmed in and nearly destroyed everything inside the trap. We survived, and we continue to survive, by the skin of our teeth.”
He watched the game in the distance for a few seconds. “I doubt many on board Salvation have a fair idea of the fragility of our lives. I don’t mean physically. Our good ship is a fairly robust piece of constructive artwork disguised as engineering science, but as a people, we’ve been inwardly focused. We are living but not growing.”
“We’re stagnant. I told the Pope that,” Tomika said, shrinking inside a little at the memory of her outburst.
“You said this? To his face? Applause!” Keven slapped her knee. “How did he take it?”
“If looks could kill.”
“Ha! Excellent. Every petard should be punctured occasionally.”
“Even yours?” Tomika grinned.
“Especially mine.” He mulled for a second. “If you were speaking to the Pope, I assume your mother was in the room. Logically, then, the Captain was there, too.”
“He was.”
“My, my. You’ve come far. It was just yesterday you left school—”
“Hang on, Keven.” She reached into the backpack she laid at her feet and pulled out a binder. “Brought you a present.”
“‘Beware of Greeks bearing presents.’” He took it and turned it over. “It’s locked.”
“Fingerprint sensor on the front. Keyed to you alone.”
“Now I’m really worried.” Keven undid the lock and opened the binder. “Ah, real paper. That’s especially evil. You know I can’t resist.” He hummed as he leafed through the pages and diagrams, but his eyes grew larger as he turned page after page, and the humming eventually died away. He looked up. “Landfall and Home in three years, and all these challenges to overcome?”
Tomika mentally crossed her fingers. “We might have missed things, so we need a fresh set of eyes to go over all this. Someone intelligent with a good grasp of logic and history, someone who doesn’t mind pushing back on experts who think they are never wrong. We’re hoping this person will take a leading role in getting the ship ready for Landfall.”
His eyes narrowed. “And if I say no?”
“I have a message from my mother for you. ‘All hands on deck.’”
Keven closed the binder with a slam. “That’s cheating. If you were not my favorite…” He let his voice trail off.
“You’ll do it?”
“What else am I doing? Retirement is a sentence to eternal boredom.” He eyed her. “Will I have anything to do with His Most Supreme Horse’s Ass Barrel Brain?”
“You mean Senior Assistant Engineer Barrett?”
“Both titles fit him.”
Tomika smothered a giggle. “You will report directly to the Engineer as her Special Assistant Engineer for Landfall. You will be the project leader, period.”
“Gad, our titles have gotten very long.” Keven looked around his yard. “I suppose you’ll make me live in Beverly Hills.”
She looked at the big gray box with its one window. “Your home will be here when you’re done.”
“I wonder.” Keven slapped her knee again. “Off with you. Report to that Machiavellian schemer in the Engineer’s office that your mission was successful, and the dragon has been officially tickled. I’ll be there soon.” He thought for a second. “I assume you have some ridiculous title too.”
“Senior Advisor to the Engineer for Landfall.”
“Ha! Your title is longer than mine. Well, get going. We have a universe of work ahead of us.”
“Like saving the human race?”
“Bah,” Keven waved her off. “We’ll be lucky if we can organize a line to the bathroom, considering the dunderheads we’ll be dealing with.”