by Paul Teague
The training had been just like old times for him. A functional government building, a purposeful regime and perfunctory relationships with your superiors. Except for that doctor who seemed to be in charge. This man certainly knew his stuff when it came to the tech they were using. But he was an ‘odd one’. He’d really felt uncomfortable whenever this guy was around.
He missed the laughs with his colleagues though. He knew he’d be joining other people for the main operation, but they would not meet before the event. They were to be trained in isolation, via simulations, so that each person knew exactly what to do when all the elements were placed together. This was quite different from military training where they acted as a unit, under central command. It was almost as if no single person was supposed to know exactly what was going on.
Activation Process
If this was the easy bit, she might as well relax and get on with it. She’d had enough experience at work to know that you should take one thing at a time. No point worrying about what might happen next week. Focus on what’s going on now. Whatever was going on with those screens, it was obviously connected with this thing inside her. They wouldn’t tell her what it was, only that it was ‘mission critical’ and non-permanent. How reassuring. When he talked about ‘mission’ she hadn’t a clue what it was. Only that she had no choice but to get involved and to play her part.
It was similar to her short stint in the Army before she met Mike. Following orders, doing what you’re told, never asking questions. It hadn’t really worked out for her then so it was almost a relief when redundancy came. It was one of the shortest military careers in history. Long enough to get a feel for it, not long enough to see any real action. Except for the one mission of course. The one that changed everything.
She wasn’t really the ‘trusting authority’ type. Look at how they’d home educated Dan. Most people don’t even know that’s possible. They just follow the rules, do what everybody else does. And taking David out of school during term time. Okay, these weren’t the crimes of the century. But she had a natural aversion to doing what she was told. Except when the lives of her family were being threatened.
Relays
Satellites were relaying these images back to Earth, but there was nobody there to see them yet.
They were appearing on PC screens, but nobody was able to look at them.
If they could have seen them, they would have wondered how this could have happened. An entire planet plunged into darkness.
The light of the sun was making no impact on that blackness whatsoever, the entire planet had the appearance of being encrusted in a solid, black shroud.
The light just shone behind it, similar to a full eclipse. It looked so still and calm from space, but on the planet surface, Hell had just been let loose.
Chapter Five
Familiarity
I get a really strange sensation as I walk through the bunker. I can recall enough of my tour over forty hours earlier to know that the basic shape and layout has been preserved.
For instance, when I exit the medical area, I can tell that it is in the same position as it was earlier, because the chapel is directly opposite as I step outside.
Everything is exactly where it should be. But it’s like a scene change in a play. As if somebody came on stage while we weren’t looking and made the place look completely different. It’s so modern and high-tech now.
If you’d taken the basic concept of the original Cold War bunker, redesigned it for 200 years in the future, that’s what I’m looking at now. It’s light and bright, the air is fresh and dry, and all of the old-fashioned equipment, posters, wiring, pipework and paintwork has gone.
Whatever happened here, it is like no technology that I recognize. And believe me, I know my tech! It has literally transformed the inside of the bunker, but it did so without a single builder, plumber or electrician. Which is probably a good thing if the ones we use at home are anything to go by.
Kate and I are now sitting in what was previously – only hours earlier – a fairly basic cafe. It was where we were supposed to have met our hosts, though we never made it in the end. Neither did they, come to think about it. We’d been on our way, when David and I remembered the laptop deal that we’d done with Mum and Dad earlier. Five minutes each on Mum’s laptop using the free wireless connection in the cafe.
So instead of making directly for the cafe, Mum had left us all near the entrance with Dad, while she headed back to the car to grab the laptop. And my phone, I’d left that in the back of the car, too. If we were near the entrance, we’d see our hosts when they entered the bunker, so that seemed like a pretty good strategy at the time.
She’d only been gone a few minutes when the sirens sounded. At first we thought it was just something to do with the Secret Bunker. A bit of novelty for the tourists perhaps. But it was very obvious that this was for real. The sirens were outside, for starters. Previously we’d just heard them on the Cold War films that were showing in the cinema area. Red lights were flashing throughout the corridors too. And the announcement system gave it away as well: ‘All personnel operational. This is not a drill.’ That’s when Dad knew it was for real, at about the same time as the bunker doors began to close. It’s when he tried to take us deeper into the building. It must have been instinctive, whatever was going on outside, this bunker could offer protection. And that’s when I last saw Mum. And that terrible blackness outside. What was that? I know the Scottish weather can be bad at times, but this was much more than just a terrible storm.
There are a lot of things happening like that at the moment. So sitting with Kate now is an opportunity to get things straight. The café before the darkness had been decorated ‘Cold War’ style. This is still basic and functional – it isn’t a fancy restaurant or anything like that – but it is a lot fresher and much more modern. And the food looks great. So I sit down with Kate, tuck into my food and wait for her to begin.
Forgotten
The process, whatever it was, seemed to be over. The doctor had made a few final brisk swishes of his hands across the screens and they shut down. His manner told her that this was not the time to be asking questions. Particularly questions such as ‘What happens next?’ or ‘How will I know when it’s time?’ Besides, she wouldn’t remember any of this until the device was reactivated.
The doctor moved to another console on his desk, tapped a few areas as if he had done this many times before, and there was a slight, glowing pulse from the device buried in her neck. Instantly, painlessly and without warning her mind went blank. She would have no recollection of these events. She would be transported to a local hospital where she would be placed overnight in a ward. Hospital staff would look confused by her arrival until the man accompanying her showed them some identification. Their acceptance of his obvious authority would be instant, there would be no questions, no arguments, just a complete and thorough execution of his instructions.
Once placed in the bed, the device in her neck would pulse gently, unnoticed by the hospital staff. As suddenly as her memories disappeared, they would return again, only they would not be complete, now they would be made up only of selective recollections. Virtually everything would remain intact – she would recall everything about her life, her childhood, her family – everything would still be there. Only details of the arrangement with the doctor and his organization had been suppressed. They were not needed right now. They might be recalled later, but for now all that she would know is that she had woken up in a hospital after fainting while giving blood.
Her husband would be on his way. For the man who accompanied her to the hospital, this was over for now. Without speaking to the woman or the hospital staff, he left the building. He had been in this hospital before, with this woman, three years before. Nobody even noticed him driving off in the black car.
Tranquility
Earth looked so calm from space, but within the darkness, there was inevitable devastation. This was unavoida
ble.
Planes started to drop from the skies, their pilots so surprised that they barely had time to register what was going on before they were overcome by the blackness.
Vehicles hurtled off roads, trains failed to stop when they reached their destinations and ships sailed on aimlessly at sea. All over the planet there was death, destruction, carnage.
It had to be this way. Thousands, maybe even millions of lives were lost that day.
Conditions were set up as well as they could have been to avoid as much of this as was possible.
There was really only one thing that could have made this the preferable option. And that was preventing the annihilation of all human life.
On Screen
He was thinking about Trudie again. Unseen by him, there was a faint, pulsing glow from a device that had been placed in his neck. As if recalling a memory that was locked deep down in his mind, he suddenly knew what to do. He had received instructions from another place. He had been trained for this, this equipment, this entire workstation was familiar to him.
He was not aware of what had just happened – it was not painful, there was no sensation at all. It was just the seamless fusion of thoughts that were not his own with his own consciousness. He couldn’t even tell that it was happening. He knew however that he must activate his screen and check the outside perimeter of the bunker. This was simply a routine activity, at this stage of the operation all life on the surface would have been placed into stasis. He didn’t question or challenge this, he just knew it to be so. He now had to perform this routine security operation. Standard military procedures. Secure the perimeter. He didn’t expect there to be anything on the screen, of course. After all, how could there be?
The only life on the planet was in this bunker. This was the base from which the entire operation was to be managed.
It was impossible to avoid the effects of the darkness, all life had been subsumed by its force. So why was it that there were two human life forms showing up on the screen and they were just outside the main blast doors?
Chapter Six
New Home
I’m not sure if the food really is amazing or whether I’m just so ready to eat that I would devour anything at this moment. I’m just as ready to devour the information that Kate is about to give me. I decide to eat and listen.
Sometimes, there’s just so much that you want to know that the only way to satisfy your thirst for the knowledge is to dump that information directly into your brain. That’s not possible just yet – though I’m sure somebody in Silicon Valley will figure it out one day! So I let Kate talk, enjoy my food, and resist the urge to interrupt and take her off at a tangent. And let me assure you, that’s a real breakthrough for me.
‘I know you’re desperate to know what’s going on, Dan,’ begins Kate, ‘and the best thing I can do is to work down the list in order of priorities and try to reassure you as much as possible.’
She’s good at this. She takes control, but not in a bossy way. She’s kind and reassuring, and that’s exactly what I need.
I remember Dad talking in similar terms about somebody in HR who he was dealing with when he left his job. Only his description ended with the words ‘Except he turned out to be a viper!’ Still, at this moment in time, Kate is the best chance I have of moving forward. I’ll reserve judgement on the ‘viper’ bit.
‘The first thing I need to let you know is that your dad, brother and sister are absolutely fine,’ she continues. ‘Nobody was hurt when the sirens went off, they were with us all the time in complete safety.’ I breathe an internal sigh of relief. Three down, Mum to go, and then we’re all accounted for.
‘I know you must be really worried about your mum, Dan,’ she says with a concerned look on her face. ‘We didn’t know there was another member of your family, and at this moment in time, I’m very sorry, but we do not have enough information to be able to tell you what happened to her.’
The feeling of hope that I’d had moments earlier suddenly subsides.
‘In fact, we were really fortunate to have found you, Dan, you’re a very lucky young man,’ she goes on. ‘It’s a good job your dad was able to let us know your exact whereabouts after the lights came on.’
Somehow, I’m not feeling very lucky. Lucky is when a visiting relative draws a tenner out of their pocket and gives it to you as a gift, no strings attached. Lucky is finding that your brother and sister – and mum and dad come to that – have managed to leave that last chocolate biscuit in the fridge for you. Lucky is not getting to spend twenty-four hours alone in complete darkness in the entrance of a Cold War bunker. And having to pee in the corner too. Thank goodness it was dark at the time, I hope they didn’t have night vision on the security cameras. Lucky is not having to watch your mum disappear as sirens wail for some crisis outside and the only doors that might offer her sanctuary are going to close tight before she can reach them. I keep my thoughts to myself, but I certainly don’t feel very lucky at the moment.
‘Now, I’m sure you’ll want to know what’s going on, Dan?’ Kate asks.
I nod and attempt an answer with a mouth full of burger. Not a good move. Kate notices the mess I’m making and thankfully carries on.
‘Dan, I have to tell you that you and your family got caught up in something very high-level. This is not even a national situation; I can confirm that this is an international operation.’
I swallow the lump of burger, but having heard what I’ve just heard, it is not an easy swallow to make.
‘Dan, all of the people working in this bunker were specially trained and recruited for this mission – but even we do not know exactly what is going on yet.’
This is not sounding very reassuring.
‘We know three things,’ she continues. ‘Firstly, the situation beyond the bunker is not life threatening to the people outside.’
More relief. I can tell already that my emotions are going to get a real workout in this place. At least this sounds like positive news for Mum.
‘Secondly, as I said earlier, we have all been specially selected and recruited for this mission, but we have been trained individually to maintain the integrity and the security of the task. We do not yet know what’s going on and we will not receive a full briefing for another eight hours.’
Okay, so far so good, she still hasn’t mentioned ‘imminent peril’ or ‘global annihilation’.
‘Thirdly and finally, Dan,’ she says, as I notice that the technique of using my name a lot in sentences has a strangely reassuring effect on me, ‘you and your family were not supposed to be here when the sirens went off, only essential personnel had been tasked to be present at the time the sirens sounded. Even we didn’t know that everybody else in the bunker at that time was going to be part of the mission team.
‘Here’s the strange thing that we’re trying to figure out though,’ she says, sounding much more serious now. ‘We checked your biometrics when you were in the MedLab, and although your family aren’t supposed to be here, you have full access rights on the database. In short, you were meant to be here.’
Within The Darkness
Although many, many lives had been lost, this was not the worst that it could have been. Just as many lives had been saved by the actions of governments throughout the world. It was not usual for the global community to work together in this way. But the consequences of not doing so would have been unthinkable.
Even places like North Korea, where the leaders and politics are caricatured every day in the western press, and ostracized from the international community, even they were complicit in this. Yes, this global action had already saved thousands of lives, possibly even millions. And most importantly, it would save more lives. Not only now, but in generations to come.
Every military leader understands the term ‘collateral damage’. Deaths, injuries, destruction … lives lost, lives ruined. It is all acceptable, so long as the final objective is attained. When that objective is the survival o
f humanity itself, any military leader would understand that ‘collateral damage’ is going to be pretty high.
Beyond The Doors
She was supposed to have been gone for just a few minutes. She had to be quick for Harriet’s sake, she was still a bit clingy for her mum. But better to go alone, she didn’t want a scene from Harriet as they passed the sweets and souvenirs in the ticket area. For goodness' sake, the car was only parked just beyond the innocent looking cottage where they’d entered the bunker from the surface about an hour earlier. Five minutes tops.
She’d promised the kids that they could have ‘tech-time’ in the bunker cafe. Thank goodness they had free Wi-Fi in the bunker. Imagine, a holiday cottage with no Wi-Fi, who even does that these days? She was supposed to be one of the ‘responsible adults’, but even she was getting grouchy without the constant broadband speeds that they all enjoyed at home. And to get a phone signal from the holiday cottage, you had to go upstairs on to the landing and stand by the window. Sometimes even she had to do a double-check to make sure that she hadn’t been transported back to pre-Jacobite Scotland. She had to remember Dan’s phone too, he’d specifically asked her.
At her age, and she was only in her late thirties, if she didn’t write it down or keep chanting it to herself, she forgot it. ‘Laptop, Harriet’s juice and Dan’s phone …’ she kept saying to herself. ‘Laptop, Harriet’s juice and Dan’s phone …’ she repeated as she stepped out of the cottage door into the car park. The first thing that struck her was how overcast it had become. More than overcast, the sky looked thunderous. She’d never seen anything like this before, the weather had been pretty bad anyway in the last few days, but this was really something. Still, it must just be the Scottish weather. As fierce as the midges.