After Ever

Copyright 2014, all rights reserved
Despite her tears, Kim kept the radio on. The announcer's voice was distracting.
And the sound from the old hand-cranked device drowned out most of the noise from the cold streets. Even if she'd dared, at its loudest the receiver was overwhelmed by an occasional heartrending scream.
The slender young woman hid in the shelter of a cold, dark apartment. Huddled in a blanket, she fed bits of cloth and shredded furniture to a tiny fire in an old Dutch oven on some hot pads. The musty smell was overwhelmed by acrid scents from outside she was afraid to identify.
Eventually Kim grew too weary for the misery and fear. Soft brown eyes dried as she dozed lightly, dreams of the past sparked by the newscasts.
*
“You seem like a reliable person.” The white-haired man spoke slowly, each word graced with grave consideration. “Perhaps you could help me with a problem.”
Ten-year-old Kimberly had quickly grown bored with the art show and the seemingly endless series of grimly untouchable displays. This gentle voice offering respect was at least different, interesting.
Still, you couldn't be too careful. She checked, and her parents were watching.
A tentative nod of her honey-brown head.
Worn fingers fumbled with a black silk bag. “Here, hold your hands out, cupped. Careful, now.”
Sunlight sparkled as cool weight settled lightly into her palms. A small sphere, half glass, half charcoal, occupied her gaze. Kimberly could feel her parents drawn closer by curiosity.
Looking into the transparent side, the young girl noticed that the interior seemed curiously deep. In fact, she could see much further than the opaque side. As if her fingers weren't even in the way.
“What do you see?” The ancient man asked softly.
“Swirls of silver dust, and, and a cat with a penguin?” Kimberly answered hesitantly. “Is that right?”
“Everyone sees something different. But that's quite good.” He smiled in approval and she felt a flash of pride.
Drinking in the mystery of this tiny wonder, Kimberly softly asked. “What is it?”
“A hole in the universe.” Came the calm answer as sure hands retrieved it, holding the sphere almost reverently. “We should be careful, here. It's more than a little dangerous.”
Her parents looked over her shoulder at the cosmic marvel and chuckled at the grandiose statement.
Kimberly was startled to notice the same level of annoyance that she felt at their lack of awe flicker across the old man's face.
“It's my responsibility, taking care of it.” He continued nonetheless. “I've got a few talismans, objects of power to help with the task...”
The old man fished around in the bag, removed a handful of items.
“Clarity of Starry Night.” Gnarled, strong fingers offered a small purple sphere. In its not-quite-black depths, a thousand tiny silver stars twinkled. “Knowing the hidden ways.”
Kimberly returned it gravely as he handed her the next one, a pale, translucent thumb-sized egg. As she held it, the edges glowed with a fierce gold.
“Dawn That Always Comes. Hope that never fails.”
The final talisman was a faceted chip. As it lay in her hand, a series of faint rainbows spread along her palm.
“Deepest Rainbow.” He smiled wistfully. “The most powerful, but also the most difficult to use. The gift to show others your true heart.”
“Wow.” Kimberly's eyes were wide as he continued.
“As I said, I need help.” He sighed, glanced at the adults.
Bored with the lack of spectacle, they'd already moved on to the next booth, paying only minimal attention. The old man shook his head in resigned disgust.
“Protecting the hole uses up all my time. Keeping it from growing, or moving about.” He said seriously. “I need somebody reliable and clever to come up with a way to actually fix it.”
“Oh. Yeah, I can try to do that.” Kimberly said earnestly.
“Excellent.” The old man smiled. “I had a feeling. But, stalwart and brave lass that you are, it couldn't hurt to have a bit of fey help, would it? Which talisman fits you, I wonder?”
He held out the trio in a slightly shaking palm.
Kimberly didn't hesitate. “Deepest Rainbow.”
A furry gray eyebrow twitched as his smile grew larger. “I knew you were the one. Take it, and remember your promise.”
Unlike real life, in the dream a suddenly grown up Kim held the glittering gem near her heart reverently. “I remember. I'll do my best to find a way to fix it.”
“Good girl.” The silver-bearded man chuckled softly. “Now, you'd best rejoin your elders.”
“Oh, shoot!” Once more a child, Kimberly was off like a rocket, dashing along the line of booths to catch up with her distracted parents.
In the dream, as happened originally, when her father insisted on revisiting to the old man's booth to pay for or return the gem, they couldn't locate him among the confusing maze of craftspeople and displays.
*
Kim woke as the flame sputtered, panic spurring her to dump a whole handful of cloth on the feeble fire. She barely managed to restrain herself, carefully feeding it tiny scraps until orange flickers danced again in agile strength. Dim light crept through her refuge.
A few little splinters of chair leg inserted at angles, and the numb, frightened woman felt safe enough to relax.
She gave the radio a few vigorous cranks and listened wearily to the public channel.
“It's three am Eastern Standard time in the Ohio Valley. At the top of the news; No progress on determining responsibility for the disastrous attack on the CERN Labs last week.” The announcer's voice was unfamiliar, reedy and unsuitable for a broadcaster. Considering the circumstances, though... “The United Nations has issued yet another call for an emergency, international open pooling of physicists, particle and others, to handle the crisis. China has joined the list of nations refusing to cooperate, claiming the so-called accidental black hole release is an American-backed European Union hoax to gain access to their weapons research programs.”
“Why can't anybody convince them to see?” Kim pleaded sleepily. “We've gotta work together for once...”
The announcer offered no answer. “Meanwhile, estimates of as high as a million refugees are fleeing the new, active volcano in the south of France. Multiple chain earthquakes continue...”
Dozing off again, Kim escaped cruel reality into crueler dreams.
*
“You can't do that!” She stamped a foot. The impact of her canvas sneaker lacked dramatic emphasis.
Looming over her, Tony shrugged. “Somebody's gotta do something, and after that quake it's a sure bet the morons at City Hall can't handle things anymore. Don't see why it shouldn't be us. Those damned scientists murdered the world. They deserve to suffer.”
“That, that's so...” She tried not to cry. “First off, whoever blew up the CERN caused the tiny black hole that's burrowing through the Earth, making earthquakes and volcanoes. Second, scientists are people like us, not aliens or wizards. And last, Dr. Barry's just a high school teacher!”
“Shoulda guessed you for a lousy science symp.” Her boyfriend stood, made a point of checking his rifle. “Nobody's gonna listen to a poor little girl anyway. Don't worry about big things. Keep your mouth shut and I'll protect you. But you better get your pretty head straight by the time we're finished with your geek buddy.” His laugh as he turned to leave had a menacing edge.
To her surprise, Kim had already decided. Tony hadn't even made it out of the apartment when she managed to clock him from behind with a small cast-iron skillet.
“I guess you're not moving in after all.” The usually indecisive woman managed not to fall completely apart. Shaking, she stripped his ammo belt and set the rifle to one side, then rolled the comatose young man into the hall and nervously locked the door.
In the dream his moans seemed to last forever, as the gun leaning against the wall swelled, becoming a mammoth monument to regret and guilt.
*
This time she woke whimpering. Outside, male voices bellowed in anger, and for a moment she thought one of them was Tony.
But the cries died down before Kim could bring herself to risk opening a window.
Fortunately, the security bars hadn't been dislodged by the, what had the announcer said? '5.5 quake,' she remembered vaguely.
Most people hadn't paid attention to the disastrous destruction in France, with typical disinterest in anything outside the national border. But when the massive micro-phenomenon began an irregular spiral burning a line through the Earth's crust, it literally shattered any parochial illusions of sanctity.
Locally, power went out with the initial shocks. Fire and panic rioting stopped any organized efforts to restore services. Kim was grateful she at least somehow still had water, although she'd filled the tub just in case.
Her single foray outside post-quake with Tony had been a nightmare two-block journey to a government emergency relief center. Grim adults stood around in tiny clusters, while even the smallest children sat quietly nearby. She got the distinct impression of unfocussed trouble looking for targets, and was grateful to have Tony and his rifle to hide behind.
They'd gotten small boxes of odd tasting cheese, dried meat, raisins, powdered milk, bland crackers, and a few other random items. The workers were apologetic, but the few comments were complaints. Everyone in line looked haunted, spoke of end times and doom. She'd wanted to talk to them, try to comfort some of the older neighbors, but Tony saw no value in it, had insisted on leaving quickly for safety's sake.
That was nearly a week ago, and Kim dreaded the hopeless madness waiting outside.
She sat back, relaxing against the cool faux stone of a decorative arch. A hand instinctively rested for a moment on the gentle curve between her slight breasts. A wry smile crossed her lips at the decade old habit.
Pulling a worn leather cord, Kim drew a black silk pouch from under her blouse. Hesitating for a moment, she opened it. A long-treasured thumb-sized faceted oval dropped into her palm.
“Deepest Rainbow.” The young woman sighed in comfort as tiny, red-hued arcs spawned by the fires glow danced among her fingers.
Entranced, Kim was startled to notice the initial bloom of morning crawling through the window.
“Dawn That Always Comes. Hope's good.” She murmured vaguely. “But where's Clarity of Starry Night when I need to know the hidden ways?”
The first clear beam of sunlight lanced across the sill, striking the quartz gem, blazing into a brilliant rainbow.
Kim stared at it, shook as if freed from a terrible spell.
Clutching the sparkling crystal, she stood, reborn determination filling her eyes with an equally intense fire.
From deep inside and long ago, ten-year-old Kimberly spoke up fiercely. “Somebody has to fix the hole.”
Kim opened the door to her apartment and strode forth into chaos, armed only with rainbows.
Thence?