Diamond Sky Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3 Read online

  Diamond Sky

  Box Set

  by

  David Clarkson

  www.davidclarksonwriter.com

  For Katie – my wife, my love, my muse.

  Diamond Sky Box Set

  Copyright 2018 by David Clarkson

  Cover Image/Design

  Copyright 2018 by David Clarkson

  Also by David Clarkson

  The Outback

  Stealing Asia

  Chasing Asia

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, events or localities, is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  1 – Diamond Sky

  2 – Emerald Sky

  3 – Sapphire Sky

  Copyright Notice

  About the Author

  Also by David Clarkson

  Book 1 – DIAMOND SKY

  Chapter 1

  Death was all around. It penetrated the walls and it tainted the air. Lucy likened her surroundings to a travel agency for the damned. Somebody would soon come for her and not long after, the end would certainly follow.

  If only she had more time. More time to say everything that had hitherto been left unsaid. Time though, was just one of many things she was about to lose. The verdict had been given and she could do nothing to change it. All hope of a reprieve, if only for a short while, had long vanished.

  A door swung open at the far end of the corridor; her stomach tightened in response. As the footsteps made their way towards her, she closed her eyes, trying one last time to convince herself none of this was real. It was all a cruel joke. Once the punch line revealed itself, she would be able to return to her previous life.

  She focused on the darkness, twisting and reshaping it until she could no longer sense the inhospitable walls around her. As her body and mind relaxed, she could feel herself drifting away to a happier place.

  It was New Year’s Day; a brand new year and a brand new summer. Dad took her camping for the holidays. It was the first time they ‘went bush’ and she loved it. She felt an instant affinity with the great outdoors and never wanted to leave.

  They spent that first afternoon by a waterhole hunting for yabbies. It took her two hours to make her first catch. Dad told her how great it would taste cooked in the embers of a fresh campfire, but she did not have the heart to subject her prize to so cruel a fate. She released it back into the pond and felt a sense of satisfaction as she watched it disappear under the surface of the water. It was a feeling that no meal could have equalled. They bought some snags from a local roadhouse and barbecued those instead. Food had never tasted so good.

  When night fell, stars filled the sky. She believed Heaven was a place she could reach out and touch. Dad knew all the constellations. Not the boring ones her school teachers insisted upon talking about, but the good ones; the real ones. She listened with wonder as his words brought the cosmic ocean to life. They were all there; the turtle, the stingray and the mighty shark. They were all there just for her and at that moment, she knew she would always be safe and never alone. The world was too magical a place to ever let her down.

  But let her down it would. Whilst taking comfort in the security blanket of her thoughts, she could already feel the sharp tug of inevitability pulling at its sides.

  ‘Ms Skye.’

  Just a few more seconds, she thought. If only she had just a few more perfect seconds where she could still believe in hope.

  ‘Ms Skye.’

  She breathed deeply and waited for the voice to address her a third time as she exhaled the last lingering embers of her memories.

  ‘Ms Skye, you have to come now.’

  Her eyes opened, immediately focusing on a nurse standing over her. She figured he was a couple or so years younger than she; maybe twenty three or twenty four. Either way, he was relatively fresh from college and yet to develop the emotional detachment of a more seasoned member of his profession. He was impatient; almost too eager to please, but as their eyes met, he softened his demeanour.

  ‘How long?’ she asked.

  The nurse glanced awkwardly at his feet. Her eyes followed his gaze down to his shoes. They were dripping wet. She glanced behind him and saw a faint moisture trail where he had walked.

  ‘It may only be a matter of minutes,’ he told her, ‘which is why we have to go now.’

  He led her through a maze of corridors, but she could easily have found her way without him. She knew the layout of the oncology wing just as well as any of the medical staff knew it. She recognised every face, not just of the patients, but of their visitors too. All of them strangers, yet all of them like a surrogate family. They felt the same pain, they felt the same sorrow and they clung to the same fragile hope. Tonight though, she would have to let go.

  She stopped at the door to the cancer ward, but the nurse carried on.

  ‘We are not going that way,’ he said.

  ‘That is where my father is,’ she replied, perhaps a little testily. ‘Don’t you think I know my way around here by now?’

  The nurse moved to place his arm around her, but then thought better of it. He had only been on the job for a few months and was still finding these kinds of situations difficult. He was not sure if they would ever come easily.

  ‘Your father requested that this visitation be held outside in the hospital grounds,’ he said. ‘We always try to honour our patient’s...wishes.’

  She noticed how he struggled toward the end of his sentence and guessed what he had meant to say was “final requests”.

  ‘Dad always did like to be outdoors on a night like this,’ she replied, hoping to lessen the nurse’s awkwardness with the situation, as well as her own growing anxiety.

  In the centre of the hospital there was an open courtyard and garden. The area was intended as a place of peace and contemplation for both patients and visitors alike. Outside of visiting and recreation times the staff would use it as a smoking area. A faint hint of tobacco odour lingered in the air, but Lucy was too preoccupied to take exception. It was her first time there and the first thing to draw her attention was an ornate fountain, which gave birth to a slither of a stream that neatly divided the area in two. She spotted his wheelchair nestled between the side of a small bridge, which crossed the stream, and an empty wooden bench.

  ‘Oh crap!’ said the nurse, as the pair of them stepped onto the grass. ‘The bastard’s done it again.’

  The comment surprised rather than outraged her. Of course, with her emotions in such turmoil to begin with, it was difficult to determine what she felt. The nurse explained himself by pointing to the floor. The ground was wet from a garden sprinkler. Lucy had not noticed the water in the dark and did not feel it through her shoes. The nurse, on the other hand, felt the moisture all too well. This was why his feet were wet earlier and now they were soaked through.

  ‘I can take it from here,’ she said.

  ‘Thanks, I’ll be just inside; let me know when you are, er, um...’

  ‘I will.’

  She waited for the blushing medic to go, before walking down to join her father. When he did not acknowledge her straight away, she feared the worst.

  ‘Dad?’ she asked, tentatively.

&nb
sp; He turned his head and she let out a sigh of relief. It is a sorry fact of the human condition that even in a life comprising of nearly seven decades, no time is more important than those last few minutes of existence.

  ‘Thought you’d missed me?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course not,’ she lied. ‘I am sorry that I’m late, though. The traffic was terrible and you would not believe how difficult it is to find a parking...’

  She stopped herself, realising how terrible it would be for the final conversation she was ever to have with her father to be about automotive problems.

  ‘You’re here now and that is what matters,’ he said, before reaching out and taking her hand in his.

  His grip was weak. She dared not tighten her hold for fear of crushing his frail fingers. Could these really be the same hands that had once held her so strongly? Could they be the same hands that picked her up when she fell and carried her when she tired?

  ‘I brought something for you.’

  He was puzzled, yet amused.

  ‘Whatever could I possibly need right now, my dear?’

  She reached into her handbag and pulled out the gift.

  ‘Do you remember when you used to take me camping? These always were your favourites, but sadly I do not have anything to roast them with.’

  She opened the packet and placed a marshmallow in his mouth. He closed his eyes and savoured the moment. Chemotherapy had completely destroyed his ability to taste or even feel the full texture of the confection, but this was the best marshmallow he had ever had nonetheless. His body may have been ravaged by radiation and disease, but his mind was as sharp as ever. He recalled the flavour, the feel, the smell, and through these memories he really could taste it. As last meals went, it would be hard to better this.

  ‘They’re beautiful, aren’t they,’ he said.

  ‘Pardon?’ she asked.

  ‘Up there.’ He pointed. ‘Have you ever seen them shine so brightly?’

  She looked up at the empty black sky. They were sitting almost directly under an electric lamp and she thought maybe her eyes needed time to adjust. After a minute, she could only just make out the South Star and part of the Southern Cross. She assumed his memory was over compensating for his diminished senses. Not wanting to take anything away from him during his last moments on Earth, she thought it best to play along.

  ‘They’re beautiful,’ she agreed. ‘Do you remember when you told me what they all signified?’

  ‘Of course I remember. I also remember which one was your favourite.’

  ‘Tell me again.’

  He sighed. There was no telling how many breaths he had left, therefore each carried with it a certain weight. It would take a lot out of him, possibly everything, but how could he disappoint his only child on this of all nights?

  ‘Let’s tell it together,’ he said.

  She leaned in closer, wrapping her arms around his, resting her head on his shoulder.

  ‘It all starts with the tiniest spark,’ he began. ‘After a long, dry summer, the tiniest spark is all it takes. This one spark then grows and spreads from tree to tree. In less than three skips of a kangaroo, the entire forest is ablaze.’

  ‘But what becomes of the animals that live there?’ she asked.

  ‘They run and they gallop and they hop and they sliver away!’

  In earlier tellings of the story he would use this point to run his fingers up her side, tickling her as he went. Without the strength to do this, the action could be repeated only in her mind. She laughed more than she had ever done before as the phantom tickles ignited her senses.

  ‘Not all of the animals are able to get away though, are they?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘No, they aren’t. One of them is left behind. Do you know which one that is?’

  She nodded.

  ‘The koala!’

  ‘That’s right; the koala. If he cannot escape from the forest, what does the koala do?’

  ‘He climbs and he climbs,’ she said, taking possession of the narrative baton. ‘He finds the highest tree in the forest and he keeps on climbing until he is far above the flames below and he never comes down.’

  ‘He never comes down?’

  ‘That’s right; he never comes down. He never comes down because he is so high up in the sky that when he looks below him, he can see the whole world stretched out.’

  They complete the last part of the story together.

  ‘Then every night when the sun has gone down, he comes out to watch over all of the animals of the forest and to warn them when another bushfire is coming.’

  She knew her father had simply made up the story on the spot all of those years ago. She was a bright kid and the koala’s inability to make a rapid getaway during a bushfire did not escape her attention. The story was a way of drawing a veil over her sorrow. It meant a lot to her, though. The scholars had their tales to tell about the stars, as did the Aboriginals, and now she did too.

  ‘Is the koala there tonight?’ she asked.

  He briefly scanned the seemingly empty sky.

  ‘Of course, they are all out tonight. Can you not see them? The stars have never looked so beautiful; they are like diamonds in the sky.’

  She hugged him.

  ‘Thank you. With all of my celestial friends up there, I shall never be alone.’

  He looked upon her for what he knew would be the last time. She was his only child and he loved her dearly, but he could not help but feel regret for leaving her. Once he was gone, he hoped she would be able to move on with her life; that she would finally find someone.

  ‘I love you, Lucinda Skye.’

  And then he was gone. As tears streamed down her cheeks, she looked up at the blank sky and for just the briefest moment, it came alive. It came alive with all the stories of her youth. Then in a blink it returned to blackness. She was alone.

  ***

  ‘We’re getting closer,’ said Charlie. ‘I can feel that any day now, we will make the discovery we’ve waited our whole lives for.’

  ‘Do not get carried away,’ warned Emmy. ‘The greatest scientific discoveries do not happen overnight. They take years of research, analysis, and experimentation. We are only at the beginning; the hard work is all still to do.’

  Once she had disconnected him from the machine, he leapt to his feet like a hyperactive child. It was hard to believe he was thirty years old, let alone that he had a PhD. Born in Melbourne, his family had emigrated from Hong Kong in the seventies. He was one of the most brilliant astrophysicists in the country and had been assigned to the project at the same time as Emmy.

  ‘You’re as excited as I am, you just don’t want to admit it,’ he told her. ‘You know as well as I do that we are sat directly under the apple tree and any day now something is going to drop; something big.’

  She shook her head as she checked first his heart rate and then his blood pressure.

  ‘So what’s the verdict, doc?’ he asked.

  ‘Personally, I think you are crazy. Professionally, though, you are fine. Your heart rate has already returned to its normal level. However, I still think we need to be cautious as there could be side effects we have not yet detected.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he assured her. ‘If anything, this invention of yours is making me stronger. It is almost as if I can feel everything in this room. You should try taking a ride yourself; you may just like it, you know.’

  What Charlie did not realise was that Emmy had been pressing the professor for some time to be given her chance. Thus far, her pleas had been ignored.

  ‘We have guinea pigs for a reason,’ she said.

  After shutting down the device, she left the lab to report the day’s findings to the professor. As she walked down the narrow corridor, which connected the laboratory to the main body of the observatory, she could not help but smile. Despite her refusal to join in with her colleague’s bravado, she was beginning to share in his excitement more and more with each d
ay. They really were on the verge of an important breakthrough and she could hardly believe that she, Dr Emmy Rayne, was right at the centre of it all.

  ***

  In accordance with his wishes, Lucy had her father cremated. He also expressed a desire to have the ashes scattered at a place of his daughter’s choosing. Her first instinct was to return him to one of the camp sites he took her to as a child. The outback was like a second home for them and the stars their extended family. After giving it consideration, she had a change of heart. She wanted those places to remain special for the memories they shared in life, not death. She decided his final resting place should be somewhere new, somewhere he had never been before and getting him there would be their final adventure together.

  ‘Are you ready for this?’

  Her sole passenger was unable to respond. He did not have a mouth to speak through, for a start. To an outsider, it would look peculiar seeing a woman driving whilst talking to an urn that rested on her passenger seat.

  Lucy did not care what people thought, she never had. From an early age her father taught her to always have confidence and pride in herself and this ethos served her well. Adelaide had a sizeable population, the fifth largest in the country, but many of its inhabitants still held what people from the larger cities would consider a small town mentality. It was not as cosmopolitan as Melbourne, as brash as Brisbane or as liberal as Sydney.

  The road she took was well travelled, yet hours could pass without the company of another vehicle such was the vastness of its tract. She passed through nature reserves and military testing grounds as she made her way through the sometimes barren, yet never dull terrain of the world’s driest state within its driest continent. By the end of the first day, she had covered over five hundred miles and she could not wait to do five hundred more.

  Urban myths as well as real life horror tales made it known just how dangerous the desert highway could be, so she camped her first night in the grounds of a roadhouse. The night was calm and dry, so rather than pitch her tent, she slept in the open with just her canvas swag to cover her.