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    Aster: A Life in After World
    Aster: A Life in After World
    Aster: A Life in After World
    Ebook337 pages4 hours

    Aster: A Life in After World

    By Eric Johnson

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Human evolution is put back on track thanks to the Red Sun Millennia causing the failure of all electric-based technology. Only the strongest gene pools and adaptations survive. This is the story of one of those lives in After World.
    At fifteen she found herself afloat aboard a leaky dingy with a strange boy. She could not remember how she got there and in fact could not remember anything about her life. Not even her own name. Somehow blessed with amazing medical skills, she fought to find her identity and to protect the one she loved. But she is torn between two mothers. To which does she belong?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherEric Johnson
    Release dateJul 23, 2013
    ISBN9781301909254
    Aster: A Life in After World
    Author

    Eric Johnson

    Eric Johnson is a veteran who served in the US Army. He currently lives in Baltimore and spends his time to write stories based on his experiences as well as using current events to focus on counter-insurgency as well as other related topics. He also writes limited erotica and steampunk short stories on occasion.

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      Book preview

      Aster - Eric Johnson

      Aster

      Eric Darrell Johnson

      Copyright ©2013 Eric Darrell Johnson

      All rights reserved

      ISBN-9781301909254

      Cover Art by Rafael Rivera

      Art Director/ Founder Dylan Brough

      Copyright ©2013 Soul Interface Studios • soulinterfacestudios.com

      All rights reserved.

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      To my lovely wife who never let herself be defined by society. She is and always has been herself.

      Online Resources

      http://www.ALifeinAfterWorld.com

      http://www.Facebook.com/ALifeinAfterworld

      Twitter: @ALifeAfterWorld

      Preface

      John had 400 miles left of a three-day run. The desert looked peaceful and he listened to the second CD of an audio book, Zen and the Art of Nothing.

      He really wished he could have been home today though. He missed his wife and today marked what people called the day of falling. Some said the end of the world would happen today as Mercury was doomed.

      Due to a collision with an extra solar planetoid a few years back, Mercury’s orbit had collapsed, and had likely already drifted in the corona of the sun by now. Astronomers said today would be splash down.

      Being into philosophy and physics, the planet fall interested him, but out here in the desert he could not get any clear radio stations for updates. Last month, due to budgeting issues, he cancelled his satellite radio.

      Heading west, he should start to see some signs of civilization in the next hour. The flat terrain however made it hard to tell direction. The compass in the dash kept up with that for him though.

      He glanced down at it and did a double take. It showed North, and then shifted to Northeast then Southwest.

      He looked up at the long straight road ahead of him and knew he had not suddenly veered off course. His truck still pointed its grill to California.

      He looked at the compass again and it continued to give random readings.

      About this time, most of the gauges on the dash suddenly dropped down to zero. The CD also cut off. The truck still moved, but the engine ran rough.

      Nice place for electrical failure. He told himself. This would explain the compass going wonky. He knew better than to try and stop for this in the middle of nowhere. He might never get it working again and did not wish to be stuck walking in the desert.

      John hit the accelerator and the engine grudgingly gave him a little more power. He looked at the speedometer; it read 77 miles per hour. If he could get the old beast to give him a little more speed, he might make it in 50 minutes.

      He glanced down to his watch and it showed a completely black display instead of the time. Occasionally it flickered, but it did not appear to be displaying the time.

      When it rains, it pours.

      On the horizon, probably five miles ahead, or so, he saw something along the side of the road. At this distance, it could be anything and it would be another few minutes before he could actually make it out.

      He pushed the accelerator more, the engine groaned and sputtered, but gave him a little more power.

      The speedometer now read 82 miles per hour.

      John took inventory of what worked and what did not. His engine worked. The speedometer worked. The lights and fuel gauge did not. The radio sat dark and silent. The ammeter bounced wildly back and forth making an audible click noise when it hit one end or the other of the gauge.

      The object ahead finally became discernible. It looked to be possibly a large truck. He looked again and realized he actually saw two cars, not one. He also noticed they blocked part of the road.

      He checked the rearview to make sure no cars had snuck up on him, and then out of habit signaled his lane change. No clicks sounded and the lights did not light up. Mark the blinkers off the working list.

      He pulled the wheel which turned easily enough.

      At least the power steering still worked.

      With no oncoming traffic, he took the entire left lane.

      As he approached, he saw the drivers of the vehicles standing on the roadside and talking.

      I would stop and help you guys, but I cannot stop or else I will be stuck too! he said out loud knowing they would not hear him.

      As he approached, the drivers came out into the road and started flagging him down. He swerved to keep from hitting them and rode past.

      He made a mental note to himself to send some help back to them once he made it into town. In his rearview, he could still see them waving at him.

      He looked at his watch to see how much time he had left on this trip and the screen still flickered, but mostly stayed black.

      Ahead he saw probably another vehicle. It appeared to be in the left lane and driving towards him.

      Looking at the speedometer he read 83 miles per hour. The accelerator lay on the floor now.

      The car ahead finally came into better view and was not moving. The driver parked in the middle of the left lane as if the person had just decided to stop driving and turned off their engine.

      As he approached, he did not let off the pedal and the engine kept chugging along. The driver appeared from behind the vehicle and stepped out into the right lane to try and flag him down. John swerved onto the shoulder to avoid hitting the guy.

      John looked into the rearview and saw the guy going back to his car, dejected.

      The speedometer still read 83.

      He guessed he still had another fifteen minutes until he reached the next town.

      Another five minutes went by and he passed another car. This one on the left shoulder, well out of traffic, no driver in sight.

      A few minutes later he knew what happened to the driver, he spotted the him walking down the left shoulder back towards town.

      John could now see the town ahead. He let off the accelerator and the engine roared like a jake-brake for a moment and he started slowing down.

      When he hit the city limits sign, he slowed down to 45 miles per hour. He applied the air brakes and found one more thing on his rig that still worked.

      He saw people moving around town, but strangely, he did not see any vehicles driving around. The first signal light he came to (possibly the only signal in town) did not work. It did not even blink. He tentatively stopped at the intersection and did not see any cars coming from any direction. His engine sounded like a train at an idle. It made a loud chugging noise as it fought to stay running.

      He pressed the accelerator and started moving again. He knew of a truck stop just on the other side of town. Maybe he could get his truck fixed there. A couple of minutes later found him driving into the parking lot. He saw plenty of cars and trucks here, but noticed right off that none moved. He usually had to dodge some crazy 4-wheeler when pulling into these places.

      He also noticed the building did not have any lights on and a group of people gathered outside. He pulled around the back towards the shop and into a parking spot. He pulled the parking brake which made a loud pop noise. He left the engine running.

      He stepped down out of the truck and noticed the group of people came his way. He felt a little nervous at this and used his spare key to lock the tuck door.

      What’s going on? He called to the lead person as they approached.

      We were hoping you could tell us. John caught an uneasy tone in the man’s voice.

      What do you mean? He asked.

      Your truck is the only thing that works for miles around and you don’t find that odd? The lead person said. The others with him muttered assent. This had the potential to become a mob setting very quickly.

      Hey! He rebutted. I don’t know why my truck is working. I just thought it was having electrical problems.

      Yeah, electrical problems. The leader menaced. We all got electrical problems, so why does your truck run?

      John started back towards his truck without turning his back on the mob. He was trying to think quickly.

      Then it hit him. Mechanical fuel pump! It just popped into his head. He remembered he had to go cheap when buying his truck and he could not afford the all-electric package. That included having a mechanical fuel pump.

      The lead person stopped and seemed to consider John’s words, and then continued his advance.

      What does a mechanical fuel pump have to do with anything? The lead asked.

      Nothing electrical works on my truck, just like you guys, he explained quickly, but as long as it keeps getting fuel and air, a diesel can keep running, even without electricity.

      John had reached his truck by this point and felt in his pocket for the keys. He found them, now to get the right one in his hand.

      The leader stopped and so did the group behind him.

      A voice from the crowd sounded, My mother is in San Diego, and I have to get medicine to her!

      Another voice started with another plea, My children are at home alone!

      A chorus of voices joined into a cacophony.

      John reached behind him, unlocked the door quickly, and climbed into the cab. He barely slammed the door shut in time and re-locked it. He released the parking brake, slid the shifter into second, and released the clutch. The chugging became louder as the engine struggled to get momentum. The truck heaved and started to move. John had hitchers clinging to the side of the truck as he finally started moving. A couple fell off as the rig shook to life and he lost a couple of more pulling out of the parking lot. He got back up on the road and looked down at the side of his truck. A single woman huddled on the tank step and gripped one of the handholds.

      Something moved him to open his door. She looked up at him and with a free hand he flagged her up.

      Still driving down the road, she climbed up into the cab, over him, and into the space between the seats.

      You were the one with kids at home? He asked her.

      She nodded.

      Thanks a lot for this mister… She examined his permit on the dash. Bartz?

      You can call me John, Bartz is a last name. He told her.

      He motioned to the passenger seat and she sat down.

      Where are your kids then?

      Aster Marigold

      One

      Brace for impact. A male computer voice sounded over the intercom.

      She checked all the readouts on the pod and everything read correctly.

      Give me a hand here please. She looked up into a face identical to her own…almost identical.

      The other came across to the pod.

      The entire building shook before either of them could do anything else. The lights flashed once, twice, and then went out altogether.

      Where is the backup power? She asked the darkness.

      They must have used a pulse round on the main junction. A voice similar to hers answered back.

      The capacitors are charged, but depleting quickly. She said indicating small green LEDs on the control panel. See if Mother has an update on when we will have power again. I will try to keep the process suspended.

      In the darkness, she could just make out the shape of the other person leaving the room. She heard voices a short way down the corridor and definitely heard male voices, probably Chugs. She ducked a little behind the pod.

      She heard weapons fire. Mazer shots echoed in the hallway so she felt a little more at ease. Mother preferred the mazer. A few more shots sounded off followed closely by inhuman screaming and then everything went silent. The doorway brightened up with portable lights and a moment later Mother entered framed by her honor guard and then closely followed by the person who had just left to go fetch Mother.

      All the faces looked the same, they looked like hers, but she could tell them apart.

      How is the pod? Mother inquired.

      She looked down and watched the last green bar wink out. The capacitors could protect against brown outs. The backup power should have been online.

      She looked up at Mother and shook her head. Mother, the power has been lost to the pod and the process has been interrupted.

      Mother bore a pallid expression. How far along was it?

      Mother, she was complete except for higher function and memories.

      The chugs have been eliminated and others are working to restore power. Mother stated.

      As if on cue, the backup power came online and the pod lit up again.

      Can you restart it? Mother stepped forward and inquired.

      No, the first thought, and you know it.

      She responded verbally, I will try Mother.

      She poked at the controls for a few minutes and then eventually looked up and shook her head.

      The neural pathways have set, she explained knowing Mother already knew the process, everyone did. I could do a merge, but that would create a dual--

      You do not need to explain that to me! Mother interrupted. She knew she would.

      The partner for the first stepped forward to assist her. She was not being disrespectful Mother, she only meant…

      Mother held up a hand for silence.

      Mother took a step toward the assistant.

      In reaction the assistant appeared to move her head slightly to the left.

      Mother reached out quickly and grabbed a hold of the chin of the assistant. The first rushed in to aid the assistant, but one of the honor guards held her back.

      Daughter? Mother addressed the one in her grip.

      Y-y-yes? the daughter responded.

      What is your serial number? Mother asked in a flat voice.

      Mother? The assistant visibility shook and had a tremor in her voice.

      What is your serial number! Mother demanded in a very firm voice. The daughters knew that voice and they could not resist against its demands.

      Four, six, five… her voice trailed off into mumbles.

      Speak up daughter, I cannot hear you!

      Four, six, five, five, nine.

      At the same time, the first said her own serial number in her own head. Four, six, five, six, zero.

      The two of them had been pod mates and emerged at the same time. They had always been very close and shared things between each other that they would not even share with Mother.

      Mother twisted her grip on the assistant’s chin and revealed the left side of the daughter’s face. The assistant winced at showing this side to Mother.

      Mother examined her exposed side closely and ran a finger down the jaw line. Mother’s expression did not reveal anything about her findings.

      How long? Mother asked the daughter in her grip.

      The daughter stammered.

      How long? The firm voice repeated.

      I noticed it two weeks ago. The daughter blurted.

      It’s completely treatable! the first lurched forward and interjected.

      Mother stared the first down and she backed off.

      What is your purpose? Mother asked the daughter of her attention.

      Mother? she asked in a weak voice.

      Mother said nothing in response but continued to stare in silence at the daughter.

      Finally she responded in a weaker voice, Mother, my purpose is to live a full life of experiences so that you might choose me to merge with you when the time comes.

      Mother programmed this default answer in all the daughters.

      Do you think I want to merge with someone who is in the first stages of bone cancer? Mother sounded disgusted.

      With voice barely audible the daughter answered, No.

      You have no purpose. The mother stated flatly.

      The daughter collapsed into a crying heap on the floor.

      No! shouted the first as she leapt to her assistant and once pod mate.

      Together the two of them sobbed on the floor holding each other tight.

      Danson. Terminate subject with transponder serial number four, six, five, five, nine. Mother said this without any emotion in her voice.

      Completed. Responded the computer voice over the intercom.

      Almost instantly, the daughter crying on the floor with the first stopped moving, crying, breathing, and all things associated with living.

      Has the new clone been implanted yet? Mother went right back to the business at hand.

      The first looked up from her dead companion at Mother and shook her head.

      Good. Mother stated. That will save wasting another transponder.

      Mother turned back toward the door and issued, Terminate the defective clone and dispose of those two bodies.

      A moment later Mother and her honor guard left. The daughter still alive laid there and wept over her companion.

      Douglas climbed down into the ravine. Just before going too low, he looked back over the edge to see if anyone followed him. He did not see anyone. No one ever seemed to care enough to notice his absence. Since infancy he lived at the Sister Saint Uela Children’s home and in his fifteen years there, he probably spent about five in these woods.

      Douglas did not get along well with the other kids and hated the work the adults always gave him.

      At the bottom of the ravine a stream ran where he could keep busy with for hours searching for snakes, frogs, turtles and the like. If he followed it downstream for a half a mile, it joined with the River Concourse. At least that is what they called it at the church. They always said you could find anything going up and down the Concourse.

      He liked to imagine what it would be like to finally get away from the home and sail away down the river. He made all kinds of grand plans and got lists together on what he would need to take with him. On a couple of occasions he even gathered some things from the lists and stashed them in the woods to be prepared when the time came.

      He lacked one thing: a boat. He had no idea where to get one or how to build one. One of the last things he often told himself as he returned to the home in the evenings: If I only had a boat.

      Today he planned on going to the Concourse. Maybe he could get some driftwood and tie them together. He had commandeered some rope from the storage closets and practiced tying knots in it whenever he could. He finally felt ready. A turtle shot out from under some duckweed and he nearly went after it, but he told himself he had better things to be doing and he was getting too old to chase turtles. Instead he threw a couple of rocks at it then continued on his way. A mocking bird cried suddenly from above him and he ducked and covered his head. He felt silly though when he realized the bird went after two squirrels. He hated it when mocking birds would attack him, but loved watching them attack other creatures, especially cats and squirrels.

      He turned around as he was walking and stared up at the tree. Another mocking bird had joined the squabble to even the odds.

      Douglas took a misstep backwards and fell over a root. Being fairly nimble he twisted his body in an effort to catch himself but did not find any ground to catch himself on. He went face first down a drop off. The wall of dirt and clay slanted out to meet his fall and his decent mercifully turned into a slide. As he hit the bottom he slid across the mud and slammed into something hard.

      Everything went dim for Douglas and it took him a few moments to regain himself. Clay covered him from head to toe. He felt around for what he had hit his head on but found nothing. He did find that he lay at the very edge of the water. A few more inches and he would have been head first under water.

      The boy stood up and tried in vain to wipe the dirt off of him and only succeeded in getting more on his hands. Suddenly something caught his attention. It appeared wooden and half water logged. It looked like—It looked like a—

      A boat! Douglas shouted out as he ran along the bank to keep up with the boat now fully entrenched in the current. Finally!

      Clay and mud forgotten for the moment, Douglas ran doggedly along with the object as it started to move swiftly.

      Wait up! He called after it, although it looked empty.

      He looked ahead and recognized his location. A couple of hundred feet and the stream would dump into the Concourse.

      With no time to lose, Douglas dove into the water after his prize. A couple of yards from the shore he realized it would have been easier and faster without his shoes so he kicked them off and then continued after the boat. As he came towards midstream, he felt the current pull at him. He figured it would help him get to the boat, but it interfered with how he swam. It took him a few moments to adjust so that he used the water flow instead of fighting with it.

      As he neared the boat, he saw a trailing rope coming from the bow. If he reached the rope, he thought, he could swim back to shore with it and tow the boat back with him.

      Reaching for the rope turned out to be more challenging than it looked. He had to interrupt his swimming to take a proper aim at it and then it drifted just out of his reach. After trying a couple of times, he swam as hard as he could and caught up to more of the rope and then ran into it with his body. Now he reached with both hands and caught it. At the same time, he switched from a breaststroke by rolling over on his back and kicking with his feet.

      The rope went taught and he felt a little bit of resistance to his swimming as the boat shifted and spun around to face him.

      This is going to be easy, he thought.

      The boat then completed its turn and the stream current caught hold of it again. Suddenly Douglas no longer pulled the boat but the boat pulled him because the stream had just joined into the Concourse.

      He looked back towards the shore and watched it get further and further away. He was not sure he could swim halfway across let alone fight these currents. He would need a new tactic.

      Douglas pulled the rope hand-over-hand. Slowly he caught up to the boat and when he reached the side, he tried to throw his leg over the edge. He thought this might tip the boat, but fortunately it stayed upright.

      He tried again and this time he caught a toe on the boat’s edge and then, with some heaving, managed to get his elbow and his knee over the side. The boat did tip a little, but stayed upright.

      After a moment of catching his breath, he heaved again and finished pulling himself over the side. After some struggling, he fell into the bottom of the boat and landed on something soft and warm against his cold wet flesh. It moved!

      Douglas almost jumped out of the boat again, but controlled himself. He crouched at the stern of the boat and looked back at where he landed. A girl lay there as if taking a nap. She looked to be about the same age as him. She also looked about the same size. She had long blond hair, as fine as a newborn’s. She had high cheekbones and a pointed chin. He noticed her ears looked small and rounded. She looked perfect to him in every way.

      She stirred

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