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Title: Oberheim (Voices)
Author: Christopher Leadem
Release Date: October 23, 2004 [eBook #13841]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
All Rights Reserved.
to Hemingway
ACT ONE
the white sun rise slowly, lighting the valleys and stalk forests
below, the dark mountains behind. The only sound was that of
transplanted birds in the distance, seeming unnatural in this
altogether alien landscape. He heard his name called from within, but
did not answer. Elonna came and stood in the glass doorway behind him,
wrapped in a blanket.
"What's the matter, Eric?" He did not answer but only shook his head
without turning. She stepped out onto the balcony beside him, opened
the blanket with her arms and wrapped it about his shoulders. Her skin
felt warm against him, but could not displace the emptiness and anxiety
he felt.
"I don't know. It's too quiet." The girl turned her face to look out
into the wind, her long hair flowing behind. She looked out at the
sun, warm and sleepy-eyed, then drew back from him with a start.
"Eric, look!" Three black specks had just cleared the horizon, and
were moving swiftly toward them. They flew in tight V formation, but
their shapes could not yet be distinguished.
She hurried inside. He looked back then moved to follow, but too late.
A shaft of yellow light shot down from one of the ships, now nearly
overhead, and he slumped to the balcony floor. Then they were gone.
She cried out and rushed and knelt beside him, lifting his shoulders.
"Eric, no! Don't leave me here." She wept and put his head to her neck
and rocked him back and forth, but he only lay there unmoving.
From behind the mountains came a blinding flash, followed after several hushed breaths by a deep rumbling in the distance. Then all was quiet and the city, too, was gone. She knelt holding him still, trying to remember what he said to do if this happened, but for a time could only cry. She heard the sound of smaller ships approaching but it did not register. Suddenly she knew she was in danger and must act.
She ran inside, quickly zipped into a coverall, grabbed a flask of
water as she passed out of the room. She ran down the stairs, was out
the door and flying toward the forest while a part of her was still on
the balcony.
She reached the first stubble-shoots, four to six feet high, their blue
branches like thick hair at an angle toward the sun. Brushing past
them, she was just entering the cover of the trees when a small
troop-deploying ship landed amidst the cluster of houses from which she
had fled. Screams broke out but they were cut short, one by one. Her
eyes welled with tears and she stumbled many times but kept going.
After what seemed an eternity she came upon the narrow path, branching
left and gradually rising toward an outlying spur of the hills. But by
now she could go no further. She had just strength and wits enough
left to move a short way off it and collapse into a long dry rill,
overhung with bushes. There for a time, dizziness and fatigue pinned
her. She was too physically spent to feel much sorrow, but at
intervals the knowledge of her husband's death came back to her like a
hollow blow in places she could not defend. At last grief wholly
overcame her.
"If you get to the deep woods and I still haven't come, you've got to
hide." I'M HIDDEN ERIC. "But that won't do for long. They'll be out
with heat sensors, so you've got to get to the graves." She started to
rise, then fell back. ERIC, I CAN'T. "You must."
She staggered to her feet, found the path, went forward and began
looking for the cluster of gray stones which marked the turnoff. She
found it just as she was ready to quit.
Leaving the path once more, she picked her way through vaguely familiar
landmarks till she came to two bare oblong mounds of earth. THEY DO
LOOK LIKE GRAVES. She fumbled about the edge of one till she found the
handle. It took all her strength to lift it, and the thick red earth
on top did not move. She slid her way into the opening and lay in the
shallow hole, the lid thudding to above her.
She felt for the dead-blanket, covered the length of her body with it
and shivered in the darkness. The cutting whir of a search-ship
overhead sounded dully around her. She clutched together like a child,
hardly daring to breathe. But the ship passed over and was gone.
The air that tricked in from the breathing hole was cold and wet, chilling her. She turned and wrestled the dead-blanket from her, reached up and tried to push back the lid.
It would not move, and for a moment she panicked. Then placing both
hands together, she pushed with everything she had. The earth above
her buckled, cracked and gave way. She forced her way out. She stood
up, brushed away the clay-like dirt, and looked around her.
All was dark and silent. There was no moon, but through scattered
openings in the interlacing canopy a few stars shone dimly. Her eyes
already accustomed to the dark, she worked her way slowly back to the
path, then turned to the right. Still there was no sound and she
walked, tentatively at first, and stopping to look around her many
times, then with greater confidence on toward the hills. She picked a
light, strong shaft from among the many that lay fallen by the way.
Its curved length felt reassuring in her hands. She still felt great
loss, but no longer any fear. The hours in the grave had not been
wasted.
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