Best of British Science Fiction 2020 by Donna Scott

Author:Donna Scott [Scott, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: NewCon Press
Published: 2021-08-08T21:00:00+00:00

CRAIG-GLAIS

I found myself by the base of the large hill at the north end of the Aberystwyth promenade. My map indicated that there used to be a walking trail to the summit, and, on any other day it might have been pleasant – grimly picturesque, even – to have followed its faded switchbacks to the top. But, sulking more than I wished to admit, I sought something tougher and more direct. My map told me that there had once been a funicular here, marked as “CLIFF RLY”, and this, I concluded, must have been the deep concrete trench which ran to the top of the hill. I found its starting point, along with a rusting carriage crumpled like an old beer can, amid the red-brick rubble of a tiny station house near the promenade. Whether during the blast wave from the missile attack or later, the cable pulling the funicular had clearly snapped and the carriage had plummeted into what was left of the station.

To my surprise, the two sets of tracks were still intact. Buckled here and there by the heat of the blast, sure, but nothing that couldn’t be easily repaired. They sat on a gravel bed at the bottom of the trench. There were electrical fixtures along the concrete wall and, here and there, rollers between the tracks that once eased the passage of the funicular cable. A third of the way up I had to clamber over a collapsed footbridge. My leg went through one of the rotting beams and it was only by thrusting out my arms that I managed to save myself from further harm. I looked around for the drone, but it was beyond the hill. Nothing to edit out so.

By the time I reached the summit I was sweating despite the chill in the air. The climb had been more than worth it though. I could see the whole town laid out below me. I didn’t need my map up here. The lines of the streets were softened by rubble, but the general shape of Aberystwyth’s arteries was still visible. This must have been a beautiful place once, I thought. The sea breeze stirred my hair and I imagined it on a fine summer’s day with the sun beating down and children playing on the beach. I pictured the couple from the apartment we explored. I saw them sitting at their table by the window overlooking the street, drinking their fancy tea, and discussing literature or theatre or some such. They sounded like such a drag!

From here I could see for miles up and down the bay. The sea and the distant coast and the sky all blurred into one, all different shades of grey. The rocks here were slanted, I noticed, turned sideways, or warped into undulating shapes. I doubted the Vehement attack had done that. Surely it was the result of something older and more powerful. Even a nuclear missile could only scorch the surface of this place, could do

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