Aftereffect

By T. John and Jon Siniecki

After global nuclear warfare, humans have moved underground to survive--though their safety comes with a time limit. Radiation, nuclear winter, and even extraterrestrials all push the countdown closer to its end. Meanwhile, a small group from another planet work to complete their collection of Earthly artefacts and get back home before being discovered. Over time both stories will crossover as each group looks out for their own best interests to not only survive the present, but also make way for the future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mecha Panda Publishing
• Release date: Nov 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9781738961429

Book preview

1

WHERE WE ARE

THE WORLD HAS CHANGED. Once crowded cities now stand empty. The blue sky has been filled with a thick grey haze that holds onto the sun's light–allowing only the smallest amount to pass through and illuminate the planet's surface.

Why does Pickett keep sending us on these runs, again? Zath’s voice crackles through the speaker on his bright orange hazmat suit.

It was only a year ago that nuclear missiles were fired. However, nothing was the same after the first explosion. One bomb led to two, then three, and so on. When the bombs finally stopped falling the human race had almost completely moved underground, clinging to survival.

You’d rather clean the sick bay? Charles laughs, though the static from his suit’s speaker causes the sound to cut.

This was life now–living under the surface, only going above ground at the command of those in charge. Or at least, that's how it was for them. Communication with those outside of where one was located had become a luxury of the past.

No way, I’m still squeamish from last time.

Neither of them knew Pickett, or one another, prior to the nukes. She was the one who brought everyone together. Her team gathered any and all survivors and brought them all to a secret underground military base for safety. From there a community was formed with Pickett as its head. Everyone works and contributes for the good of everyone living there.

The two men climb a small hill, overlooking what was the outskirts of a city.

Charles brings up a pair of binoculars and scans the streets below. Still no movement down there…

There never is, I don’t understand why we keep getting sent up here. The surface is depressing… Zath looks around as he speaks.

These are scouting runs, remember? Charles continues scanning, Our job is to make sure there’s nothing around that will cause harm to the base.

That’s all well and good, but what would we do if we bumped into someone who wanted to harm us? We aren’t even armed.

Have you ever fired a gun before? Charles pulls his head away from the binoculars and turns to face Zath.

Once, when I was sixteen. My parents took me and my brother to a shooting range. Zath holds out his arms, as if he’s holding a rifle, then mimes the recoil of taking a shot.

Charles pauses before bringing the lenses back to his eyes. Sounds like fun, but it doesn’t count towards proper firearm training.

But–

No, really. Guns are dangerous and if we don’t have proper training then we shouldn’t have them.

A moment of silence creeps between them as Zath processes what has been said. My point stands. I still don’t think we’re in a position to protect ourselves.

C’mon, Charles begins to walk down the hill. We’re almost done.

A year ago the people living here took pride in the immaculate conditions of their yards. The bright green grass has wilted and browned since it was left behind. Large chunks of houses have collapsed into the streets and yards, spreading rubble and dust across everything. Street lights and sign posts have been knocked down, with telephone wires scattered haphazardly throughout the walkways, some still attached to the toppled poles.

Then something catches Charles’ eye. Hey, what’s that?

Zath turns, What’s what?

Look, down the street. Just past the doorway of that house. Charles points.

I don’t see anything. Zath stands next to him, scanning the area.

How can you not see it? Just in there. Charles begins walking again, with his finger still pointing to the house.

Zath follows close behind, protesting the whole way. It’s only once they are standing right in front of the building that he sees what Charles is talking about.

Ten feet past the doorway, in the middle of what used to be the living room, is a tall, thin, metal beam with markings down the sides. Everything else in the room is covered in a thick layer of dust, making the polished metal structure seem even more out of place. The rest of the room looks untouched. No footsteps in the dirt, just large cracks in the floor spidering out from where the beam is.

The structure is about four feet tall, with three sides, and a sloped top. It appears to be made out of polished stainless steel, and the inscriptions down the sides look like scribbles more than actual markings.

A monolith. Zath says.

A what?

Space Odyssey. He pauses, The monkeys? More silence, It was a movie. Come on man. You’re older than me…

Alright? But what's it for, and why is it here? Charles’ arms cross.

Maybe someone put it here? You know, as a joke.

And what’s the joke? I put a metal rod where people died?

Could have been aliens. They do stuff like this all the time. Zath turns and starts walking back the way they came.

What? Where are you going?

If aliens left it there, I’m not touching it. And besides, what are we going to do with it? I’m not carrying that thing back.

Charles looks back at the steel structure and then back at Zath before following, "You know there’s no such thing as aliens, right?

Sure there is. They aren’t as interested in us as they used to be, but they’re out there.

And why aren’t they as interested in us? Charles scoffs.

Uhh, the nukes? Zath pauses, You know, the reason we’re out here.

Did the aliens tell you that themselves?

Don’t be stupid. We ruined the planet, why would anyone want to come here?

Oh, I’m the stupid one? Charles laughs, You’re over here talking about aliens, and I’m stupid.

Zath completely stops and turns to face Charles, Yes. You mean to tell me, that of all the billions of stars out there, with an even higher number of planets orbiting them, you actually believe our little blue marble is the only thing with life on it? Zath starts walking again, So, yes. You’re stupid.

You’ve given this a lot of thought, but that doesn’t prove aliens put anything on Earth.

Maybe we were put here by aliens, you don’t know.

There is a long pause before Charles shakes his head, You’re giving me a headache. You know that?

Just hurry up, I’m sick of being up here.

2

THE OSHI

LICENSE #3492X3 - DANICA

[MEMORY BANK 4]

THERE ARE MANY SECRETS IN THIS WORLD–some are smothered before they ever have a chance to come to light. It’s the same here as in the stars. Human nature is the excuse some people use, but it is so much bigger than that. Organic thinking is almost impossible to replicate. The brain is more complex than many of us will ever know.

I walk slowly, careful not to set off any of the traps hidden around the area. If even one goes off then it would begin a chain reaction and this is an inconvenience I would rather not have to deal with. It’s Monday and I’d prefer to start the week off with something simple.

I adjust my back pack and step over an obvious tripwire while ducking under a laser motion sensor. It’s invisible to the naked eye, but believe me it’s there.

I scoot past several pressure plates until I make my way to the courtyard of an old abandoned precinct. This planet used to rely heavily on law enforcement, but I haven’t seen anyone walking around with a badge in a long time. The most powerful institutions are often the first to crumble in the wake of unpredictable disaster.

Humans call this country Iceland–we call it our interim base.

I step inside and lower my hood as I continue towards the main elevator. Behind me the door opens and then closes as another pair of footsteps approach. I don’t need to see who it is. He’s right on time just like always.

Good morning, Oren.

He stops next to me and presses a gloved finger to the elevator button. Danica.

Did you find anything useful out there?

He sighs. Not in the slightest. That last run was a waste of time.

I nod. Oh come now. I'm sure you have something interesting in that little bag of yours.

A low ding echoes as the doors to the elevator slide open; neither of us hesitate to step inside. I lean against the near-pristine lacquered panelling as Oren pushes the button marked ‘basement’ three consecutive times. When he finishes, the button marked ‘L3’ sinks back into the wall and is instantly replaced with one marked ‘Sub’. The mechanism is one of Lex’s inventions and, along with all the traps, has done well to keep intruders out.

You’re not wearing your suit. His voice is calm. Radiation levels have been spiking in the surrounding areas.

I know, but I can move faster and hold more without the weight of the gear. I sigh. Besides, it’s not like we need them anyway.

He shrugs. Irrelevant. The point of all this is to remain anonymous. You should know better than any of us that humans are too curious for their own good.

I smile. No one ever sees me, Oren. You have your specialties and I have mine.

I wish you took this more seriously. Don’t you want to return home?

I nod. I’ve embraced the possibility that this may end up being a one-way trip. It always could be. Our cybernetics will eventually wear out. Nothing is forever.

He shakes his head. You’re exhausting.

And you are acting like a human who needs their coffee.

The elevator jerks into place and the doors open to a familiar hallway. Oren exits first and is in the middle of removing his hazmat suit as he walks towards a large window overlooking a sizeable atrium with several conveyors and a plethora of machinery.

This is the Oshi–our ship, our muster point, and our home away from home.

A low beeping starts at the console in front of the window. Oren makes his way over, takes his pack off his shoulders and begins emptying the contents onto a small metal table. It’s always the same. Lex wants us to process our findings before meeting her in the atrium.

Junk, garbage, and crap. Oren shakes his head. I don’t even think any of this is worth cataloguing.

I shrug. Then why did you pick it up?

He rolls his eyes. Because last time Lex chewed me out for not meeting the quota. I’ve always been a fan of quality over quantity.

I nod. Me too, but we’re not just contributing to the records. We’re looking for resources as well. There is a balance, you know? A small pink Gameboy hits the table and I snatch it up within a second. Well, hello. I thought you said all you had was junk and garbage?

He sighs. That is what you are holding, yes. I picked it up because the circuitry could be useful. Lex already has a yellow one on her desk.

Exactly, it’s on her desk which means it has value. Very few items make it into her personal collection. I press the buttons marked ‘A’ and ‘B’ several times before wiping the screen. This thing looks like it just came out of the box.

That’s because it did.

My eyes widened. I’m sorry, say that again.

He closes his bag and starts pushing the items into the conveyor chute. Packaging takes up too much space and this planet’s surface is already littered with it so–

We’ve been here for half a century and you don’t even know what you’re holding, do you? Lex.

The sound of her gulping a cola is distinct and at this point it’s become her signature. Both Oren and I turn and see what many people would mistake to be a girl no older than twelve drinking a pop in casual army wear. This is our boss and she’s older than both of us combined.

Lex–

She finishes her drink, crumples the can and throws it onto the conveyor. Is there a puffball with feet on it?

I look down and see something like that just beneath the screen. Umm… yeah I guess you could call this a puffball.

She nods. Remember why we’re here. This planet is slowly destroying itself. We need to gather the valuables before humans go extinct. Once that happens every scavenger across the universe will be on the surface and we’ll have lost our market advantage. We’re here as an investment and it is our duty to be profitable.

I pause. This is personal collection worthy, isn’t it?

She smiles. Any and all game systems are worth grabbing, but this is something else. Limited edition pink and with the plastic still on the screen… There are only twenty-five of these in the world. Items like this will save the expedition if we don’t meet our quota. Remember that.

Her words are directed at Oren, but I still feel their intensity. She walks over, takes the system from my hands and disappears down the corridor. The moment she’s out of sight Oren relaxes and pushes everything onto the conveyor.

Sometimes she scares me. He lets out a deep breath.

I put my pack on the table and start pulling out items. She’s unpredictable and holds the masters to our contracts. Scary is an understatement. He doesn’t say anything. Just brush up on this planet’s history, especially pop culture from the 80s and 90s. Data shows that is when the most profitable items from the modern age were produced.

For a moment there is only the sounds of the conveyor and the machinery processing the items below. Oren and I often have different methods to our job, but he is also the closest thing to a friend that I have on this planet. He is uncomfortable and that makes me uneasy. I push the items down the chute, zip up my pack and grab his arm.

3

CRIMINAL BASE

THERE ARE STILL NO SIGNS ANYONE HAS BEEN NEAR THE BASE, MA'AM, Charles reports. He and Zath stand next to each other, alert. The room is bright though the accents are dark–chestnut brown furniture and grey floor–with fluorescent lights above which give everything a slight glow.

Pickett stands just in front of them, arms crossed as she receives the information. Her outfit looks like an altered military uniform that has been dyed black. Excellent. Does that complete your report?

No ma’am, Zath’s voice is soft. There is one thing we came across out there.

Pickett’s eyebrow raises, Oh?

Just past a doorway, inside one of the houses, was a steel beam. Charles says.

Rubble?

A monolith, Zath starts, You know, like in Space Odyssey? With the monkeys? He trails off, obviously hoping for more.

I see. She turns and takes a few steps, Nothing else?

No, ma’am. Charles replies.

Okay, you two go get some rest. And here, She grabs a couple MRE rations, and tosses one to each of them. That’ll fill you up after the long walk back. Your next run is the day after tomorrow.

•••

The next morning Charles heads towards the Cafeteria on Level 5 for breakfast. He weaves past several people in a large corridor, some wearing the same style of black uniform as Pickett, others not, until he reaches a line for food.

To his understanding, the people in black uniforms were part of the actual military group that was stationed in this base before the missiles started flying. Technically, those in black were criminals for deserting their duty. From what he’d put together, it seemed Pickett was the one originally in charge of this base. After leaving she kept it as her own. Those who remained were clearly loyal to her above all else.

Did that ration make you want to vomit too? Zath’s voice precedes him, This is why I wasn't in the army. I am against their war on flavour.

Charles can only laugh as Zath joins him in line, cutting in front of the few people who had already formed behind him.

Zath, A woman behind them says, The end of the line is here.

Zath sighs, C’mon Carol. Just be cool.

She shakes her head, Absolutely not. There are rules for a reason.

Fine… Zath’s shoulder slumps as he slowly walks to the end of the line.

Life under criminals wasn't horrible. Pickett and her team were the reason they weren’t above ground and most likely dead. While they lacked windows or any kind of natural light, they did have food, water, and most importantly safety. This base was designed for survival, Greenhouses and water purification systems helped keep everyone inside alive, while the team in black were there to protect them. But perhaps the biggest thing keeping them safe was the nuclear missile Pickett housed inside the mountain the base was cut into.

After getting his helping of food, Charles finds a table with a couple of empty seats on the end and places his stuff down. Within minutes Zath appears with his tray and places it down. It’s not a lot of food but it is hot, and filling.

Carol is a pain in the ass. Zath looks over his shoulder scanning the room to see if she’s close enough to hear him.

You did try to cut the line. Charles brings a fork full of food to his mouth.

You and I also walked all the way to the city limits yesterday, and all we got were those disgusting rations.

They weren’t designed to be good, just to give us all the nutrients we need in one go.

Yeah well, they’re gross. Zath pouts before picking up his fork and beginning to eat.

The meal continues in relative silence. A few people walk in carrying several flats of eggs, and make their way straight to the cafeteria counter where they are collected and taken out of sight. Charles often forgot there are chickens in the base,