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  May Day

  The Erelong Trilogy Book II

  Gerard O'Neill

  Gerard O’Neill Books

  Autumn wind of eve,

  Blow away the clouds that mass

  O’er the moon's pure light

  And the mists that cloud our mind,

  Do thou sweep away as well.

  Now we disappear,

  Well, what must we think of it?

  From the sky we came.

  Now we may go back again

  That’s at least one point of view.

  — Hojo Ujimasa (1538-1590)

  “This is the beginning—from “I” to “we”.”

  — John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath

  …All men are created equal…

  — Thomas Jefferson, U.S. Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776

  “Upon every one of us rests a tremendous historical responsibility.”

  — Leon Trotsky, October 1938.

  To you

  Blue

  Contents

  Part I

  1. Popping Smoke

  2. Fiery Sky

  3. Made it!

  4. Creatures

  5. Candles

  6. A Long Night

  7. Deluge

  8. Waiting on the Track

  9. The Riders

  10. The Farmhouse

  11. The Banquet Hall

  12. The People's Party

  13. The Astronomer's Warning

  14. Questions Always Questions

  15. An Understanding

  Part II

  16. The Trojan Submarine

  17. Dagger Looks

  18. Under Pressure

  19. Protest at the Docks

  20. The Stateroom

  21. Firefight

  22. A Shocking Realization

  23. Red Lines

  24. Zoids

  25. Scare Tactics

  26. Big Clean Up

  27. Terrorist Attack

  28. The News Broadcast

  29. Unrequited Love

  30. Fight at the Station

  31. Escape and Evade

  32. Dazed and Confused

  33. The Interrogator

  34. The Performance

  Part III

  35. Silver Tubes

  36. Tsunamis Above Volcanoes Below

  37. Solar Shakeup

  38. Storm Wakes

  39. The Assault on the Canyon

  40. Just a Little Longer

  41. A Double Bind

  42. Thunderbolts of Jupiter

  43. Inside the Ruins

  44. An Admission by Martyn

  45. Peaks on the Equator

  46. The Vortex

  Thank You For Reading

  About the Author

  Part I

  1

  Popping Smoke

  Storm was the only one of the three to have any pilot training. The two soldiers would follow his advice to fly low over the terrain. An unseen tornado tracking down from above was always uppermost on their minds. But nature was not the only menace. Government security forces patrolled every major road, and from above mechanical eyes scanned for the heat signatures of insurgents.

  They were on constant alert for the telltale metallic glint of a drone on the horizon. Apart from looking for groups labeled by the government as terrorists, the robots were also programmed to search for survivors. So they remained vigilant, dreading the moment they would glimpse the sharp outline of a machine above them.

  The only drone they saw flew on the distant horizon. It continued on the precise course designated for it to follow, with not the slightest apparent interest in the paramotors. Taylor suggested it was most likely engaged in a routine re-mapping of the forest floor, and the other two liked his theory and agreed that must indeed be the situation.

  Most of the valley floor seemed little more than a sea of ash spiked through with the blackened remains of tree trunks. Looking down from the paramotors the burned forest resembled the back of a giant porcupine. A constant drizzle had turned the embers into a sodden mass, and for that, the men beneath the sails were truly thankful. It meant there was no dust blowing up to blind them or stall their engines.

  The ancient wind-carved peaks of the Blue Mountains pressed in on them from all sides. Most of the vegetation had been burned off the ancient rock, but in places, there were scatterings of green where copses of trees and bush protected from the firestorm by the rock formations showed through. Whenever they saw an oasis, they swooped low to inhale the sweet scent of vegetation. They hung in their harnesses below their multi-colored sails with the noisy engine and the propeller on their backs. It would have been a hell of a lot of fun, if it wasn’t for the many lives that were at stake, not least their own.

  Strapped into chromed rigs under clapping sails, they flew east between burned ground and heavy sky toward the fortress city. They stared in wonder at the damaged land. At gaping cracks that sometimes ran for miles, and at sinkholes that appeared wherever moisture was present in the earth.

  They crossed into the ranges, flying over wide rivers of broken rock and soil. Flying over massive slips where hillsides had spilled across the valley floors. It was flying through a particularly long river valley, sliced through with avalanches so that it was virtually impassible to anyone on foot, that Storm allowed his mind to wander.

  Only hours earlier, Storm, Cameron, and Taylor had stood on the top of the only sloping field on the farm, preparing themselves for their long journey. Friends and family lined the fence to wish them well and perhaps catch one last glimpse, just in case, despite all their promises and best intentions they never returned.

  Storm hugged his mother and sister goodbye, and then it was Penny’s turn. She allowed him only the briefest of embraces before she stepped away. That was when he knew for sure it was over with her.

  As he snapped on his harness, Storm dismissed the lurking worry that this was going to be the last time he saw them.

  Matthew and Kwong helped them with their rigs. Matthew had racked his brain for wisecracks to send them on their way, but he could come up with nothing funny. So, he kept telling them they were to get back in one piece. No excuses! There was far too much work to be done as it was, without losing anyone.

  Kwong went over the procedures, until the three pilots threw up their hands, telling him they would be leaving after dark if he didn’t quit.

  Michael the astronomer, took the opportunity during the final flight check to urge them once again to stick to their schedule. He looked Storm in the eye as he shook the boy by his shoulders. His young friend was impulsive and stubborn, but Michael trusted him to do his best. Nevertheless, it was the young and impulsive part that most worried him about Storm.

  “Alistair and his colleagues must have some idea of what’s happening and what they need do to survive,” Michael told them. “But, always keep in mind; this journey to Sydney could cost you your lives—if you’re not careful.”

  He rubbed his beard like he always did when pondering the right words to use for some bad news he must give.

  “We probably have three weeks before things start to turn very bad. Make sure you are on your way home before then!”

  “And if our luck does run out, we either drown or we roast,” Taylor replied with a snort. “What a choice!”

  “You need to be undercover with supplies enough to last out the duration of the event,” Michael said. “That’s two months’ worth of supplies at a minimum. The longer you stay away, the more you place yourselves at risk, and us as well. And tha
t’s only if we wait for you, and we won’t be doing that!”

  “Well, at least—if we don’t make it back, you have Private Kwong,” Cameron winking at the big soldier. “He’s a virtual one-man platoon.”

  “You better believe it, Corporal,” Kwong told him.

  Kwong was worried. Splitting up at this point was plain wrong to his mind. Nothing good could come of it. But, what could he say that could change things? It was useless to argue with either Cameron or Storm, and Taylor had discovered he freaking loved flying a kite. He shook his head.

  “Are you three making an evening flight of this?” Matthew asked them.

  Cameron turned awkwardly under the weight of the engine strapped to his back.

  “Stay alert and stay alive!” He told them.

  “Always the best idea, Corporal,” Taylor replied.

  “To be sure,” Cameron replied.

  “Oh, you still trying to speak like a mick?” Taylor asked.

  “That I am,” Cameron said.

  “Isn’t it supposed to be more like a brogue?” Taylor asked. “That means rough in Irish, ya know?”

  “I’m trying for a gentle lilt,” Cameron replied.

  “Lilt, my ass!” Taylor laughed.

  “I know what a lilt is, you ignorant bastard,” Cameron told him. “I’m Irish!”

  “You’re about as Irish as I am,” Taylor said with a laugh.

  “Your mother was a dingo and your father was a camel!” Cameron retorted.

  “Now you’re sounding like a Sydney boy,” Taylor said. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you, Sean.”

  He cackled with glee at the look on Cameron’s face.

  Storm glanced at Matthew and saw his friend shrug.

  “Must be a soldier thing,” Matthew muttered. “Totally incomprehensible if you’re not in the Army.”

  “Are you thinking about taking off today, or maybe tomorrow?” Matthew asked the three men.

  “We’re as ready as we’re ever going to be,” Cameron muttered. He glanced over his shoulder at Kwong. “Okay, let’s pop us some smoke!”

  Cameron’s engine roared into life, and Kwong moved on to pull the cord on Taylor’s rig.

  Matthew was eyeballing Storm. He didn’t look happy.

  “What are you waiting for?” Storm asked.

  “Don’t look for trouble in the city,” Matthew told him.

  “Oh, come on,” Storm grinned.

  Now he was moments from taking off, he was actually looking forward to it.

  “No unnecessary risks,” Matthew said. “You know what I mean.”

  Storm was surprised by the intensity of his friend’s gaze and he laughed nervously.

  “C’mon, Matt.”

  “If you get called out by the security forces, just do what they say. Don’t be a hero.”

  “Are you trying to fill in for my old man?” Storm asked him.

  Matthew shook his head. He walked behind Storm and pulled the cord of the engine. It roared into life. He watched Storm run down the slope of the field. The parasail filled with air, swinging the pilot off the ground and into the sky.

  2

  Fiery Sky

  They avoided the Katoomba and Springwood that sat along the main highway. They knew they would be little more than ghost towns, but there would be security forces somewhere close by each center. In the distance, they saw the grid outlines of streets and suburbs, dark and broken in the twilight. The plains stretched out before them. On the horizon, they could make out the outskirts of Sydney. The city had lost its sparkle. In fact, in large part, the twinkling lights had all but entirely gone out.

  Storm watched the ground rolling by below him. There were green trees and grassy fields. Surely the meteoroids fell this side of the Blue Mountains?

  In the haze of twilight, he spotted the lines of a complex only just visible. As they drew closer, he saw spotlights on the towers that swept the perimeters inside and outside a high-walled enclosure.

  “What the heck’s that?” Storm asked using the mic attached to his helmet.

  “It’s a government camp,” Cameron replied tersely. “Hey, Storm. Remember what I said. Don’t use the radio for unnecessary chatter!”

  The corporal watched as Storm swerved toward him. He smiled despite himself when he saw the boy give him the middle finger. The cheeky young bastard.

  The sky them was a blaze of orange. The fiery firmament stretched from the range of hills they had crossed to the distant horizon. Immediately ahead, lay a city of six million people, more or less. Beyond the city lay the Pacific Ocean, deep, wide and cold.

  They saw the sweep of the Great Western Highway and knew it would be well patrolled. They turned from the open plain to follow the edge of the bushland and flew over a massive sinkhole a half-mile wide. The bottom of the pit lay in shadows, deep enough they might have been staring into the bowels of the ancient continent.

  A little over an hour later they were flying over a large group of men and women.

  They were the first people they had seen in days, and they looked to be in trouble. The group was stumbling across the fields like a mob of drunks leaving the pub at two in the morning. Not one among them appeared to be paying the slightest attention to the others. They all looked pre-occupied in their own space.

  “Do you think they can hear us?” Storm asked.

  “Of course they bloody do,” Taylor’s voice replied over the headset.

  “They don’t seem very interested,” Storm said.

  “Shaggy, can you see the tops of those trees bending?” Cameron asked.

  He chose to ignore the chatter on the radio. Their flight to the coast had been long, almost three days following a zigzagging route they decided on to avoid being discovered. There was little chance for conversation either. It was good to hear voices around him. So, even though he knew better, Cameron thought to hell with it.

  “Roger the crosswinds,” Taylor called. “The wind’s picking up. Over.”

  “That farmhouse opposite the new housing development looks a good place to land,” Storm said.

  “Let’s land these things,” Cameron replied.

  Storm watched the mob of people below them. They were stumbling ever onwards. Yet, he could see little except fields and bush ahead of them. Where could they possibly be going? Were they escaping the coastline? Were they already aware of the tsunami that would be coming?

  Large raindrops spattered their faces. In a short time, they were squinting to keep sight of the farmhouse. Apart from the camp, they had seen little sign of security forces all day outside of the one lonely predator drone.

  Taylor was flying high on Storm’s shoulder, searching the rise of the land for a sign of possible trouble ahead.

  “Bring your rig down to our level, buddy,” Cameron called to Taylor.

  “On my way,” Taylor called back.

  They were not able to distinguish the dark cumulous cloud they were skirting. After all, the entire sky seemed to be one big storm cloud. They were not aware they on the edge of the most dangerous of supercells. The mesocyclone. A deep, rotating, and massive updraft. Above the clouds and invisible to them, stood an awe-inspiring anvil-shaped formation that rose higher than the highest mountain peak. The three men didn’t know what hit them until they were grabbed from above as if by talons of a raptor.

  Storm and Cameron were lucky. They were on the edge of the upward rotating air column and able to turn away from it in a steep descent. On the fringe of the big suck, there was still time to perform the maneuver and save their lives.

  Taylor flew straight into the whirling column and was drawn into the center where the speed of the updraft was greatest.

  “Watch out you don’t capsize!” Cameron yelled to Taylor, still unaware of the monster they were facing.

  “I got it,” Taylor shouted.

  “Treat it like a rip at the beach,” Cameron told him. “Try for the outer edge. Over.”

  “What do you think I’m blo
ody doing?” Taylor yelled back. “We ain’t swimming in the sea, neither. Just in case you never noticed!”

  “You’re a truck driver,” Cameron reminded him. “You can pull any kind of rig out of a scrape. I’ve seen you do it countless times. You got this!”

  “This ain’t a truck,” Taylor shouted.

  “Whatever you’re going to do, you better do it quick, man!” Cameron said as he saw Taylor grow small above him.

  “I’ve tilted the sail all the way. I’ve got it spinning. It’s spinning fast. I’m feeling the g’s. If I can just keep holding it… My head feels like it’s splitting. It hurts like hell.”

  “What good is tilting the sail going to do?” Storm yelled.

  “He’s taking it into a spin to counter the lift,” Cameron replied.

  “It’s working,” Taylor shouted.

  “Hold it together, Shaggy,” Cameron pleaded.

  They heard the sound of static in their headsets. They could see Taylor’s rig still, but it was the size of a mosquito. Then finally, his voice came over the radio.

  “It’s hard on my arms,” Taylor’s complained. “I’d rather wrestle with Kwong.”