Page 64 of The Space Traveller's Lover
Sam stands up and looks out the cockpit window at the billowing clouds below. “What will happen to them? How will they survive?” A wave of distressing thoughts quickly overwhelms him as he starts imagining the worst. “The ash cloud will get into the caves … the earthquakes will knock down the caves … the tsunami will flood the caves—”
Sam cannot stop shaking, fear and despair piling up and blurring his disordered mind. Shaillah runs to him.
“Calm down! Calm down!” She orders him while gazing intensely at him and gradually defusing his panic attack.
“Do you think we are going to let the catastrophe alter our current reconstruction tasks on the islands?” She calmly says once Sam settles down and his breathing eases. “We are not going to let any of that reach Tinian—”
“So …. No earthquakes, no tsunamis—”
“None of that!”
Sam resignedly nods, feeling relieved from Sahillah’s reassurance, but he can’t stop worrying about the extent of the devastation. “How many people have survived? What’s happening down there now?”
Shaillah sets up the coordinates to display a bird’s-eye view along the Pacific Ocean coastline. Sam can barely believe the desolate scenes unravelling in front of his eyes. He can’t discern the sea from the land, as the whole landscape is a vast expanse of billowing smoke pillars. It’s an ongoing fallout of sweltering crackling boulders and burning rubble, hurtling through the sky and into the distance as the devouring ash clouds spread relentlessly in all directions.
I thought I knew what it’s like to be on a battlefield. I watched war documentaries and movies. I never imagined it smelt so bad or the noise wasso loud, or the fact that the blinding fireballs make you feel so powerless. Is this the end of our world? Is this it?Sam thinks glumly to himself.
“The end of the world as you know it, yes, but there will be renewal,” Shaillah reassures him.
“Ah, I see,” Sam snaps. “You and your alien friends are so … so … I can’t find the words. You’re preying on our minds, controlling us. But you’re also quick to blame the humans for everything.” As Sam speaks, his tone increases with anger at every word.
He keeps staring intensely at Shaillah as a deep frown spreads across his face. “Answer me this, Erin—I mean, Shaillah, because you are a Rom-Ghenshar, right? You are a Rom-Ghenshar. Why could you not change General Stewart’s mind? You knew what was going to happen. Why could you not change it? Eh?”
Shaillah presses her lips tightly, her expression riddled with reproach. “And what do you know about mind changing? It takes much energy—”
“Well, I think that energy could have been worthwhile. It certainly wouldn’t have been wasted.”
“And for how long would we be changing their minds? When will they give the next reckless order? The soldier robots are lethal—and unstoppable. Their bouncing shields are the least powerful of their weapons. They are all programmed to reconstruct the planet. Any other attempt to stop them would lead to further upheaval and destruction. The only other option was to stop the humans from thinking or making their own decisions. Do you want that?”
He shakes his head while sombrely watching the engulfing smoke and dust plumes rising even higher.
“Is there anything you can do?” he pleads with her.
“I am trying to help the humans. I am trying to help you. But my power and my influence are limited. If I can’t convince the humans to listen to me, how can I convince the Rom-Ghenshars to change their plans?”
“I see it all clearly now. It is the end—the final moments of Earth as we know it.”
Sam’s doomful words are met with an air of heavy-heartedness by Shaillah’s blank expression. Her cold, indifferent demeanour only confirms his worst fears. All that’s left, he reckons, is trying to survive.
“You said there would be renewal,” he mutters in a sarcastic tone. “What renewal?”
“The Rom-Ghenshars will rebuild the Earth and will help the surviving humans. And let this be a wake-up call. Fighting is futile, reckless and counterproductive. We have abilities far beyond your imagination, far beyond your reach. But we have come in peace. We have no desire to exterminate your race … as, indeed, the humans tried to do to our race in the past.”
Sam dismays while listening to Shaillah’s dire warning. He can only infer revenge and domination rather than hope and peace. His mind spirals into a wave of distressing thoughts. What will become of him and his family? What will be their future and that of their invaded island?
As the rugged coast of his beloved Tinian appears on the dashboard screens, they take their seats. At last, he can see the billowing black clouds receding in the distance. He shivers inside, recalling his implausible escape from the crumbling concrete and engulfing fireballs. He throws his head back, covering his eyes with his hands, as his body presses against the backrest while the aircraft descends for landing.
CHAPTER 27
THE HAUNTING PAST
Remember this. I’ll always be here for you—always!
The vast army of guardian and soldier robots has taken over every single island in the Mariana archipelago. Their full-scale advance is relentless, but they slow down so the residents can take their essential possessions, move into their underground shelters, or enter the coastal caves. On Tinian, a large group of people have found refuge in Diablo’s cave. They walked doggedly through the narrow passages to get as far from the entrance as possible.
Now that they have claimed their space in the scattered open areas, in between the winding tunnels, they gather in close-knit groups and comfort each other. They are tired and hungry, albeit relieved that they have finally reached a safe place. Some cry, and some shout words of encouragement. Mothers cuddle their children close to their bosoms. The families lay down their makeshift beds and share their food rations, preparing for a well-earned rest.
There’s enough room to make their encampment, even though they have to share it with a multitude of animals that stubbornly fight for their patch, their ear-piercing squeaks and obstinate howls adding to the chattering of the human commotion.
