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Last Christmas |
| Written by Philip Neale | |
| Friday, 09 May 2008 | |
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Share it:       Christmas was going to come early this year and the fact that they were moving only served to increase the excitement for their three children beyond the normal levels. They had been given three weeks by the agent to pack up all their belongings and there had been an enormous amount of work to do to make the deadline. Patrick and Susannah Connors had been married for eleven years and had three children, Jason (eight years old and self-appointed leader of the second tier in their family), Polly who was six and little Elizabeth at four and the apple of her daddy’s eye. They had been living in the large five-bedroom house (Elizabeth called it her mansion) since Patrick’s mother and father moved out just before Polly’s birth. The place had become too big for them and Patrick’s family needs coupled with a financial windfall had given them the opportunity to down size to a place more in tune with their needs. It still left them close enough to dote on the three grandchildren and the extended family had benefits all round for everyone.
This was no more apparent than with the monumental job of packing up their entire store of belongings accumulated over the past eleven years. That was twenty days ago and as Patrick and Susannah now sat waiting with their family for the transport, he mused on the efficiency of his wife who had planned the whole thing like some military operation. She had timetabled everything on a day-by-day basis giving everyone specific tasks to perform, and these had to be accomplished in a set order so that any delay was minimised. Their double garage had become a kind of staging ground for a variety of cases and boxes, all clearly labelled and cross-referenced to her master check list which detailed their contents. Nothing was going to go astray, and each of the children had been given their own set of containers with packing lists that they had devised for themselves. This was a master stroke which kept all of them busy and maintained a level of interest in an otherwise traumatic time.
It had been difficult at the start to know where to begin and when they showed the children the details of their new home as supplied by the agent, both parents found the excitement infectious. This had cost them a precious day right at the beginning and any more delays of a similar nature had the potential for serious consequences with the move. Patrick’s parents stepped in at this point and took the three grandchildren away for a week whilst he and Susannah began to organise. All essentials for the new home were packed up first and stored in the garage, leaving them only with the bare necessities for living out their final weeks. Patrick smiled now at the memory of the five of them sitting on one settee in a lounge almost devoid of any other furniture – they had always been a close family, but this was ridiculous.
That first week without the children present had been largely taken up with sorting through an Aladdin’s Cave of memorabilia accumulated over the fifteen years they had known each other, and which would have been almost impossible to achieve in the presence of little helping hands. Even then the time was punctuated by a series of unplanned interruptions as a photograph album or some document grabbed the attention of one of them. Smiles and tears would be shared as some incident came back through he mists of time to remind either or both of moments which would never recur.
“Remember the Skegness trip when Polly threw up ten times on the way?” Patrick asked, waving the photographic evidence of his then four year old daughter in nothing but vest and pants.
“Yes, good thing it was warm. We ran out of changes of clothes and I thought three would be enough. Poor baby. Just look at this one of you – what happened to those trousers?”
“You threw them away and there was nothing wrong with them – well nothing that a patch or two wouldn’t have cured.”
By the time of the return of their little ‘horde’ from the clutches of ‘Grammy and Grumpy’, all of the wheat had been separated from the chaff and the latter safely disposed of out of the prying eyes of potential rescuers. The following, and increasingly shortening, ten or so days were allocated to the children and their exercises in ‘keep’ and ‘let go’. At the conclusion of this difficult period when the youngsters had made their decisions, a garage sale was held and all surplus toys and games were sold off at knock down prices to neighbourhood friends. The subsequent barbeque was a final gathering to say their goodbyes to the closest ones, and late that evening the family retired to their beds in preparation for their last Christmas celebration in what had been the only home the children had known.
Patrick and Susannah were left with four days maximum to organise and carry out their usual month-long Yuletide celebration. Jason, Polly and Elizabeth had been asking about presents for weeks, and since the onset of the move those questions had become more strident and insistent. Evasiveness had never been one of Patrick’s higher skills and he had resorted to the ‘Ask your mother’ tactic, completely unaware that Susannah had done the same. Eventually both had to concede to the opening of presents before the move instead of a disappointing session at their destination which would inevitably have been after the holiday was over. Christmas dinner, even in the presence of grandparents was a subdued and relatively meagre affair as the date of departure loomed ever closer, and the atmosphere in the household took on a decidedly sombre tone.
“Do we have to leave?” Polly asked, brushing away a tear. It was two days prior to deadline day. “I mean, it’s so nice here. What about all my friends, will I ever see them again?”
“Yes we do.” explained Susannah. “Daddy’s new job is too far away to go there and come back every day. You’ll soon make new friends, and there’ll be exciting new places to see. You can always write to them at your old school and I’m sure they’ll not forget you.”
Elizabeth was too young to have similar concerns and Jason simply took it all in his stride as a great new adventure. Patrick found him dressed up as a pirate the day before leaving, sailing his bed on some Caribbean quest for buried treasure and trying his hardest to walk on one leg. For Polly it was as though a part of her was being torn away and left behind, and she became quieter as the hours ticked away. Susannah did her best to comfort the little girl, but in the end she was sure that her daughter would get over it.
At last the final evening arrived, and all hand luggage was accumulated in the now empty lounge. The bulk of their belongings had been collected the previous day and everyone slept downstairs in sleeping bags. Once the children were asleep Patrick opened the bottle of Dom Perignon which he had been saving for that day, and they sat out on the swing in the back garden where the children had spent so many hours at play. Susannah leaned her head on to her husband’s shoulder and gazed up into the inky blackness of a cloudless night sky.
“Where did you say it was?” she asked, and Patrick scanned the sky, pointing to the constellation of Orion.
“Look just to the right of Orion’s belt. You can’t actually see the star from here, but that’s where we’re going.”
“Funny isn’t it” she went on “Two thousand years ago we set foot on the Moon for the first time, and now we’re off half way across the Galaxy to start all over again. What about your mum and dad, do you think they’ll be alright?”
“Alright? Dad can’t wait – he’s been packing from the start, and mum will be happy as long as he is.”
The human race certainly had come a long way since those first faltering steps in 1969. Even in the first half of the 21st century it was taking eleven months for unmanned probes to reach Mars. Now, in 3969 space travel was as common as getting on a land train was then. In the time it would have taken to get from Birmingham to London they would be on board a hyperspace cruiser beyond Uranus and heading for the hyperspatial jump to their destination. Patrick turned and smiled as his wife yawned.
“Come on sleepy, busy day tomorrow”
The following morning it was a hive of activity as final hand luggage was packed and all family members gathered to wait for the hover taxi which was to take them to the Birmingham spaceport. Located in the Aston area of the city, it had been the last large development of space travel facilities in the United Kingdom and although Patrick had seen photographs of the place, the sheer size of it as they made their approach took his breath away. The taxi came to a halt outside the entrance to Terminal Twenty-Four and the ticket scanner directed them to their check in desk. They had all heard of the chaos at airports in the twenty-first century, and Susannah joked about the time required for document and ticked verification – a mere fifteen minutes; things had certainly improved considerably in the intervening millennia!
Sets of communication badges with unique transmission wavelengths, one for each of their party, ensured that no-one became separated or got lost on the way to the connecting shuttle. This space taxi would transport them to one of the three giant interstellar liners (Triton, Andromeda and Hercules) orbiting just outside the Earth’s atmosphere, these were scheduled for departure to Thyreia3, a terraformed planet beyond Orion where the relentless advance of humanity would continue throughout the Galaxy. As a skilled engineer, Patrick would receive preferential treatment on the new planet which was to become their home, and a comfortable life with a well-paid salary awaited them. His parents would be the beneficiaries of a similar package as part of the family group. They were all directed to their accommodation for the two day journey, the majority of which would be taken up with preparation for and disengagement from a hyperspace ‘jump’ which would take them almost instantaneously across parsecs of space separating them from their final destination.
The children wanted to go to the observation lounge to watch the departure, and as they took their seats, Polly turned to Susannah.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it mummy?” she said pointing to the Earth “Will we ever see it again?”
“Yes it is darling. I don’t think mummy or daddy will, but you might one day.”
The large viewing window seemed to tilt as the space liner soundlessly turned on its axis and moved slowly at first and then with gathering momentum, away from the planet of their birth. In a matter of moments the Moon passed by on their starboard side and Mars came into view. Within an hour they had passed Jupiter with its giant red spot and by what they had commonly regarded as lunchtime, the vessel was clear of the solar system and preparing for the jump into hyperspace. That preparation would take up most of the remaining day and a half and would involve the detailed calculations necessary to ensure a safe arrival in the vicinity of Thyreia3. In the meantime there were a host of entertainment distractions to pass the time, and Patrick found himself at the centre of these with the children as his wife shook her head sadly and retired to one of the restaurants with her in-laws. The ‘jump’ when it came was almost undetectable, revealing itself as a slight contraction of the stomach as if a turbo-elevator had come to a stop.
All transport liners arrived within the same hour, coming to rest within a few million metres of each other as their crews went through their standard checking routines. The Triton was the last of the three to arrive, and on the bridge First Officer Marsh was checking the computer navigation logs against the standard data for this sector of the Galaxy when a call came through from Collins, the head of engineering.
“Collins to Marsh”
“Go ahead chief.”
“Commander, we have some unusual readings from the anti-matter fuel inlet relays. I may need to shut them down for a while but essential systems will not be affected”
“Very well Mr Collins, keep me informed.”
The turbolift doors opened and Captain Hodges stepped out on to the bridge at the start of the arrival procedures.
“Everything OK number one?”
“Yes, apart from a slight problem in engineering. The chief’s on to it now, but he doesn’t think it will cause us any problems.”
“Commander!” It was Collins from engineering and he sounded agitated. “We’re losing containment on the antimatter relays. We need to………………….”
The explosion was sudden and enormous. The antimatter relays failed, spewing out fuel into the main engine core. The combination with normal matter tore the ship apart almost immediately, and minutes later it was as if the Triton had never existed. A crew of three hundred together with a passenger manifest of over four thousand simply ceased to exist.
From the observation deck of the Andromeda, Patrick stared out into space in stunned silence. The gentle rocking of the transport vessel was the only clue to what had just happened as the shock wave hit and dissipated. Automatic alert systems kicked in but had now been cancelled, and more passengers were flooding into the room to see…………………nothing. Susannah came running up with the children.
“Patrick, what was that?”
“The Triton – it’s gone. It just flashed and then disappeared. All those people, one minute there, the next gone.”
“Wasn’t it the Triton………..?”
“Yes, our original tickets put us on board, but when checking in discovered the overbooking we were transferred here.”
“My God………………!”
There was an additional day’s delay in disembarkation whilst investigations were carried out into the incident, but with no physical evidence the conclusion was one of complete systems failure due to causes unknown. Both the remaining sister ships were ‘grounded’ pending engineering overhauls but all passengers were allowed to leave for the surface of Thyriea3 and the start of their new lives. Many had friends and relatives on the Triton and stories of the disaster were passed on from generation to generation.
At a family gathering around an old fashioned log fire, Jason Connors sat in his armchair with a host of grandchildren at his feet. They were not all his, but as he had acquired the reputation of family story-teller, Polly and Elizabeth had ‘donated’ their families to the gathering around him. Patrick and Susannah had lived long and healthy lives on their new home world and the family traditions which Jason and his sisters were now perpetuating had been carefully laid down over the past sixty years. The children never tired of his stories about Earth, the trek across the stars and that last Christmas on the planet of his birth.
For More Short Stories check out: www.lulu.com/content/2712200 Copyright 2008 Philip Neale |
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