The Tomorrow Code Part 35

Giddy a.r.s.es blown will tea-coffee a waste-bin.

He didn't remember swimming, or latching on to the top of the sub, or finding the escape hatch and climbing inside.

He didn't remember any of that, and yet he must have done all of that, for his next coherent memory was that of Rebecca, weeping, one arm around his neck, the other hanging limply by her side.

And the stupid grinning face of that d.a.m.n monkey.

TE K KENEHI T TUARUA Tane turned the outside lights on for a while to watch the fish at play, twittering around beneath the ceiling of the cave. They fascinated him. on for a while to watch the fish at play, twittering around beneath the ceiling of the cave. They fascinated him.

It had been three days.

Three days since the wild ride down Hobson Street in the runaway fire engine. Three days since his brother had given up his own life for his. Three days since the end of the world.

No, not the end of the world. Just the beginning of the end of mankind.

There were millions, billions, of life-forms on the planet Earth, this tiny rock hurtling around the sun. But the human species was the one that had overstepped the mark. Pushed the boundaries a little too much. Tried to conquer and dominate that which could be neither conquered nor dominated.

Pride cometh before a fall, they said, and mankind certainly had had pride. Building monuments and civilizations that they thought would last forever, yet were just a pinp.r.i.c.k in the long roll of fabric that was the history of the planet.

Three days, and he had spent most of them sleeping, according to Rebecca, who had somehow cared for him, despite grievous injuries of her own. Concussion, she thought, but she wasn't a doctor, so who could really know.

She wasn't a doctor, and neither was Tane. There soon would be no more doctors. Nor lawyers, nor stockbrokers, nor movie stars, nor presidents.

The view from the periscope camera was always the same. Endless banks of white fog, stretching in all directions.

By now it might have covered the whole of the country. Perhaps already made its start toward Australia. The Pacific Islands, and on to the coast of South America.

They'd try to stop it. They might even get better and better at fighting it. But it was too big. Too hungry. And there wasn't enough time.

There was good news, though. Rebecca's arm had regained a little bit of movement. She still couldn't walk, but she could feel her toes again, so that indicated that her system was slowly recovering from the tentacles of the antibodies.

Not Fatboy, though. There was no coming back from what had got him.

Rebecca smiled up at Tane from the bunk as he entered with a can of Diet c.o.ke.

"There you go," he said, handing it to her one good arm. "Ready for some exercise?"

"What do you have in mind?" Rebecca smiled.

"I thought a little aerobics, maybe followed by some kickboxing, and a little mountain biking to round it all off."

She laughed.

Tane said, "Or we could just do the stretching exercises, like yesterday."

Xena flipped herself down from the topmost bunk as Tane grasped Rebecca's right ankle and bent her knee, pus.h.i.+ng her ankle up to her backside. He held it there for a moment, then repeated the process on the other leg.

"Progress," he said cheerfully. "You were helping a bit that time. I could feel it."

She smiled again. "Every day it gets a little better. I don't think it's a permanent thing."

"Thank G.o.d."

"Indeed."

He stretched and bent her right leg a few more times.

Rebecca said wistfully, "I had my whole life mapped out, you know. Ever since I was twelve. I knew what university I wanted to go to, what I was going to major in. Where I was going to work. Everything like that. But life kept changing things. First my dad died. But after a while I thought I could cope with that and still stick to my plans. Then there was that thing with Mum. But I was on top of that, too, I thought."

Tane thought he caught a glimpse of a tear, but nothing more.

She said, "Then all this happened. Now nothing is the same. Nothing is ever going to be the same."

Tane changed legs. "Not me. I didn't know where I'd be, one year ahead. Most of the time I didn't know where I'd be one day ahead. But whatever I expected to come from my life, I sure as h.e.l.l didn't expect to be sitting on the bottom of a cave in the Hauraki Gulf in a yellow submarine, drinking Diet c.o.ke during the apocalypse."

Xena grabbed the can out of Rebecca's hand and wandered off toward the c.o.c.kpit, chattering happily. She had quite a taste for it, they had discovered.

A brightly colored school of fish surrounded the port-hole for a moment, as if fascinated by what they saw inside. Here, we are the goldfish bowl, Tane thought, but didn't say it out loud. It took a bit of getting used to, this life under the sea.

"Did we save them?" Rebecca asked. "Do you think?"

Tane smiled and took her hand. "I think we bought them a little time. We slowed down the fog enough to let them evacuate Auckland. But the fog won't stay still. It'll keep moving south, and so will the..." He paused, searching for the word.

"Refugees," Rebecca contributed, and she was right, but it seemed an odd word to be using for the population of Auckland.

"And pretty soon they'll run out of room to run."

Rebecca clasped her other hand over his and he felt the tension in her grasp.

"Is there any way to stop it? If only we-"

"I thought we agreed never to say 'if only.'" Tane forced a smile.

"Yeah, but if only-"

"If only this, if only that. If only we'd done things a little differently, we might have stopped the Chimera Project. You can never say 'if only.'"

"I know."

Tane closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get it out of his head. If only... If only...

He looked up to see Rebecca smiling at him.

Tane fingered the patu pounamu patu pounamu hanging from a cord around his neck. He hadn't remembered grabbing it, but Rebecca had apparently had to prize it out of his fingers after she had got him on board. hanging from a cord around his neck. He hadn't remembered grabbing it, but Rebecca had apparently had to prize it out of his fingers after she had got him on board.

"You think we're supposed to start over?" Tane asked.

She nodded. "I think so. Once it is all over and the clouds of fog have slowly dissipated. Maybe months, maybe years from now. I think we get a new beginning. This time we will do it like your father said, as family with the world around us, not as conquerors of it."

He took her hand and held it, thinking about her words.

He tried to imagine it but a flood of images kept intruding. Fatboy in the door of the fire engine. His mother and father waving goodbye at the entrance to the Marae. Rebecca's mother, watching events on her television that were unfolding outside her window.

Xena sat in the corner of the cabin and slurped at her c.o.ke and grinned at him.

"No," he said finally.

"No?" Rebecca's eyes were wide, questioning.

"Too many people died," Tane said. "Too many people died."

"But Kaitiakitanga," Rebecca protested. "Building a new race, teaching them to live in peace with the planet..."

"All of that I agree with," Tane said. "The teachings of the ancestors, the responsibility, the guardians.h.i.+p of all that lies around us. Kaitiakitanga."

He clasped her hand in both of his.

She said nothing, but he didn't need her to.

"You asked if there was any way to stop it, and I think there is. n.o.body has to die."

"n.o.body has to die." She twisted the words around in her mouth. "What do you mean?"

"The only way to stop it is to stop it from starting."

"Stop it from starting?"

She looked at him blankly and he asked, "Where's that notebook of yours with all the messages in it?"

"It's in my pocket. Why?"

"Those aren't the messages we're going to send."

She caught her breath, catching on to his meaning. "We change the messages!"

"n.o.body has to die," Tane said. "If we change the messages, we can change the past."

"If we change the past," Rebecca breathed, "we change the future!"

"Our present." Tane smiled. "We can change our now. now."

"Then n.o.body has to die. Not Fatboy, not your mum and dad, my mum. Not even Zeta."

"Not even Zeta." Tane smiled. "I'm not sure about Grandad, though."

Rebecca laughed, and said, "Just when I was getting used to the idea of being stuck in a submarine with you for the rest of my life."

Tane laughed, but then his face grew serious. "But we can't make the same mistakes we did last time."

He paused and looked her straight in the eye before continuing. "So this time...let's get it right."

THE BEGINNING

They took all the trees Put 'em in a tree museum And they charged the people A dollar and a half just to see 'em.

Don't it always seem to go That you don't know what you've got Till it's gone They paved paradise And put up a parking lot.

-Joni Mitch.e.l.l, "Big Yellow Taxi"

The saving of the world started quietly enough for Tane Williams and Rebecca Richards, lying on their backs on a wooden platform on Lake Sunnyvale. Which wasn't really a lake at all. started quietly enough for Tane Williams and Rebecca Richards, lying on their backs on a wooden platform on Lake Sunnyvale. Which wasn't really a lake at all.

Sunnyvale School was set in a small valley. A nice little suburban valley. A hundred years ago, it had been a nice little swamp where Pukeko and Black Stilts had competed for the best nesting positions, and croakless native frogs had snared insects with their flicking tongues. But now it was a nice little suburban valley, surrounded by nice little homes belonging to nice little homeowners who painted their fences and paid their taxes and never gave any thought to the fact that when it rained, all the water that ran through their properties also ran through the properties below, and the properties below those, and so on until it reached the lowest point of the valley floor. Which happened to be Sunnyvale School.

As a consequence, Sunnyvale School had to have very good drainage. When it rained hard, as it often did in the west of Auckland, an awful lot of that rain made its way down from the hillsides surrounding the school and ended up on the playing fields and netball courts of the small but cheerful school.

The stars above shone down with a piercing intensity that penetrated the haze of lights from the suburban homes around the valley. The moon, too, was lurking about, turning the weathered wood of the small platform to silver. From an open window in a house somewhere on the surrounding slopes, an old Joni Mitch.e.l.l folk song reached out plaintively across the water to them.

Tane and Rebecca lay on their backs on the small wooden platform in the center of the two main playing fields and looked up at the stars, for the rain had stopped many hours ago, and the night was clear and beautiful....

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Many thanks to Mere Whaanga, who provided great wisdom and advice on the cultural aspects of this story, and to Dr. Roger Booth, a.s.sociate professor of immunology and health psychology at the University of Auckland, whose vivid descriptions of the immune system at work provided the basis for much of the science in this book and made a technical and complex subject highly entertaining. Thanks also to Creative New Zealand for their generous funding, which allowed me time to work on this book.