Devil's Paradise

1: The End: Goodbye

July 30, 2042

Eight billion died, but two broke my heart. I was up on the ladder wiring the machine in my lab when they reached across the years for me, to the place they had never left. I tightened the screw, then grabbed the supporting bus hard as I closed my eyes and remembered, trying not to fall. After a moment, pain made my eyes open. I had stabbed my hand on the bus. I checked that I had not left blood on the pins, then unsteadily climbed down the ladder. When I got to the lab floor, I held onto the ladder for support, while the past swam before me and my hand dripped memories.

December 31, 2029

I held Martin against my bare chest as I made my two hundredth lap through the kitchen. Hoarse, I sang as deep as I could, so the baby could feel the soft vibrations. He still moved uncomfortably with colic, and the low singing was the only thing I had found that helped him stay calm. If I stopped singing for more than a few seconds, or I stopped walking, he would start fussing again.

My bleary eyes showed me it was almost time to get up. My presentation to the board of directors was to be this morning, and I had been walking with Martin since his two o'clock feeding. I wasn't sure I would have voice or wits for the directors.

The radio was quietly playing a news feed. "It's early morning on New Year's Eve, folks, and the start of a new decade as we begin the 2030s. The Islamic State last night renewed their promise they would destroy the western world by the end of the year. Most scholars think they mean the twenty-ninth day of Dhul Hijjah, which will fall in May next year. The IS spokesman refused to clarify, however, which leads many to wonder if they are planning something for today. The fear is growing oppressive."

As the feed cut to a commercial for stress relievers, I switched off the radio. My stomach was tight enough without commercial fear mongering. Martin was quiet enough while I made the coffee one-handed, continuing to sing. When the coffee started, I went to wake Alicia.

It was ten minutes before the next feeding time, but I needed to shower, and I could not be late this morning. It took several gentle shakes before I could get her awake enough to glare at me. When she was vertical enough that she wouldn't drop the baby, I tried to hand him over.

"Let me go to the bathroom first."

"Okay, but please hurry. We have to get on the road soon." Alicia would sit in the back while I presented my project to the Board of Directors.

I had been working toward this day for the last five years, ever since Delilah had hired me right after graduation. Everything was looking good, and my biggest worry was that Martin would be fussy and Alicia would have to take him out.

After a moment, I admitted to myself there was another worry. There was no telling what Merlin would do when the directors asked him questions.

My project had succeeded beyond all predictions. It would be the greatest triumph of my entire life, maybe, and I was only twenty-five. Delilah was already making noises about a Nobel, but I didn't want to think that far ahead. Exhausted or not, though, I wanted Alicia there to see the unveiling.

I hadn't even named Merlin; he had named himself. He had been project 16927 until I said we would have to come up with a better name for him.

When I came out of the bedroom, dressed, Alicia was sitting on the couch in the living room, Martin happily affixed. "I'm not going," she said.

The room swayed, and I said, "You don't want to miss this, love."

"Don't push me!"

"You know how important—"