Send - By Katie May Shipley
Clara left Mark in bed
and made her usual way up the mountainside. She paused to take in the lichen
encrusted stonewalls, the twisted oak trees and looked out across the mountain
range that surround her. When she came to Blaenau 30 years ago she had not
expected to fall so completely for the landscape, the language and Mark. She
had put off making her decision for over ten years now and it was finally time.
Clara continued along the winding path towards the woods that she had arrived
at all that time ago; the same trees stood but were further bent and creaking.
They bowed down onto the hood of her vehicle.
She had been compiling
her report since arrival; it had started as simple as the last job. Regular
sample updates, increasing pollution levels, assessment of natural resources.
To begin with nothing had been right, she was ready to leave after 5, then 10,
then 15 years but something made her stay. She had left behind a failed
marriage and Mark had picked her up, made her smile and she had allowed herself
to see a future, one that belonged in this beautiful place. If only she could
tell him the truth.
Clara entered the now
ancient aerodyme, she flicked on the computer deck and re-read both reports.
The first said pollution levels were still too low, that there was no point
continuing investigations. If she sent it life could continue as it was, she
could go back and curl up in bed with Mark, destroy the aerodyme and enjoy the
welsh countryside for the rest of her life. The second report read the truth, air
pollution levels had reached an all time high and the earth’s atmosphere was
suitable for a scouting party. It would lead to a series of invasions and
ultimately the destruction of everything she now cared for. She would be sent
away to the next planet to begin more research and would be left with only
memories of this place. The survival of her species lay in her hands.
Her finger hovered
over the button when she heard footsteps approaching; the familiar slow steps
meant only one person. She rushed out to disguise the aerodyme and to greet him
with a distracting hug. As she wrapped her arms around him she decided she had
nothing to lose, nothing she wasn’t going to lose anyway. He listened as she spoke. Shocked at
first, but patient. Did he think she was mad? He didn’t run away, he wasn’t
afraid, he said nothing and hugged her again. He held her close; she felt safe
and warm and then something else.
A pain, a dizziness,
she stumbled away from him as her blood soaked her clothes and dripped off his
knife. He silently watched her fold to the floor, ignoring her gasps and
pleading hands. He turned to the computer desk, easily navigated the
complicated system, he clicked send.
There would be no
invasion, but there would be no future either.
