by G J Ogden
“We understand that you know little of the events that led to the catastrophe that left this planet, and its population, in ruin,” said Maria. “We even know that this is a subject you actively avoid, as is the topic of what existed before ‘the Fall’, as you call it.” At this, Talia raised an eyebrow and glanced, very briefly, over towards Ethan. But Ethan was transfixed and unaware of Talia’s silent accusation.
Maria took out the small holo emitter that Kurren had smuggled to her earlier and placed it on the table. The planetsiders all eyed it with suspicion, especially Talia. “This device will project some images,” Maria continued. “The images will describe what happened far better than I can in words alone. You no doubt won’t have seen anything like this technology before, but it is harmless, so please don’t be afraid.” She pressed a button on the device and a panel slid open, revealing an emitter array. Moments later, the device hummed into life and began to display a three-dimensional, holographic image of a planet with the UEC logo hovering above it.
This time Talia was visibly startled. Her eyes flicked from the images over to Maria and back. The other administrators started to chatter to each other nervously. Ethan was wide-eyed with wonder, but Summer had slid back in her chair and appeared deeply uncomfortable with the object and the images it was displaying.
Maria continued, hoping that the novelty of the emitter would soon wear off. “The reason we are here concerns both the Fall and what happened before it,” she said, talking louder to be heard over the chatter. The administrators fell silent. “Put simply, we need your help,” she said once quiet had resumed, “because our people are in grave danger.”
The atmosphere was tense and electric. She glanced back to Kurren, who had kept silent, as was the plan, but she could tell from his eyes that he was concerned. The meeting was already balanced on a knife’s edge, and Maria had much more to tell them. She wasn’t sure if they could handle it, or even wanted to listen. But she had no choice, she had to try. She tapped the emitter panel and the picture switched from the UEC logo to an image of a planet, hovering above the table like an apparition, steadily rotating.
“The moon base was owned by an organization called the Universal Engineering Corporation – the UEC. Prior to the Fall, the UEC was responsible for mining and refining orrum, a precious mineral found only on the moon, that was capable of generating huge amounts of energy.” Maria tapped the emitter again, and it zoomed in to the planet to show a great city as if viewed from high in the sky. All eyes were on the image, all except Talia’s. She continued to look at Maria.
“Prior to what you call the Fall this planet was home to billions of people,” said Maria, choosing not to look directly back at Talia, but instead at the images in front of her. “The population was spread across the entirety of the planet, concentrated in megacities. Much like the city near to where we found you,” Maria added, gesturing over towards Ethan and Summer.
“Where we found you, you mean?” Summer interjected bitterly, staring intensely at Maria. “You would still be out there, rotting in the remains of your precious city had it not...”
Talia cut her off, sharply, but without raising her voice any more than was necessary. “That’s enough, ranger,” the older woman said, fixing her with an equally sharp stare. Summer backed off, but looked furious. “Let us hear what Maria has to say,” Talia added, looking back at Maria. But despite the interjection on her behalf, Maria was not comforted. She could feel her pulse starting to quicken. The room was turning against her.
“Everything depended on orrum,” Maria continued, trying to not let the strain show in her voice, “and the mining, refining, transportation and use of orrum to generate power for the cities and its inhabitants was the cornerstone of civilization on this world.”
As Maria spoke, the holo-emitter showed images of the moon and of the substance – orrum – which, to Ethan’s eyes, looked much like any other large lump of rock. Maria continued to present a potted history of the planet, the holo-emitter following her words, showing images pertinent to the content, as if it were listening to her voice and reacting independently to help tell the story.
“To ensure that the supply and use of orrum was secure, the controlling alliances agreed that an independent body should act as protector, ensuring non-interference. This organization was GPS, or Global Power Security, and it was resourced with people from all allied governments, with the sole mission to police and protect orrum production.” The emitter now displayed the emblem of GPS, which was a circle, representing the planet, with a clenched fist in the center, palm facing out towards the viewer. As Maria continued, the images switched again, following her words automatically.
“GPS protected the UEC from criminal elements, rogue factions and states, and from itself,” continued Maria, “and they provided oversight for the UEC’s own internal security service. Collectively, GPS enforcers numbered more than any civilian police force, and also any army,” Maria paused, letting what she had said sink in, and then added, “and it was here that things began to fall apart.” Maria took a sip of water. She noticed that Summer was staring down into the folds of her arms, and rapidly bobbing her leg up and down, like it was attached to an electric current and unable to remain steady. Ethan was looking directly at Maria, hanging off her every word, but his expression had become noticeably more solemn as the briefing had progressed.
“I take it that relations with GPS took a turn for the worse?” asked Talia, to Maria’s surprise. This was perhaps an obvious assumption, but her composed delivery and evident lack of surprise made Maria wonder if she was actually telling the older woman something she didn’t already know.
“Yes,” Maria said, trying to emulate Talia’s composure. “GPS made a play to control orrum completely; to own the global supply and distribution of energy and to control energy security for the entire population. It would have made them the unchallenged global superpower. They would have had command over every continent, every government, every individual. But they failed.”
“War,” Ethan said quietly.
Maria, half-hearing him, looked over and was surprised to see that Ethan was head down, staring at the table, his earlier brightness and enthusiasm diminished. “I’m sorry?” she said, awkwardly.
Ethan raised his head and met Maria’s eyes. “You’re saying all of this destruction was the result of a war.”
Maria could now see a sadness in the young ranger’s eyes that she had not seen before. In others, perhaps, but not in Ethan. “Yes,” she replied, somberly, “the last war. At least, the last to take place on the planet.”
The holo-emitter switched to a new view, and began to re-enact key moments from the conflict, in time with Maria’s narration.
“The UEC had a comparatively small, but well-trained security force,” said Maria. “They were a last line of defense, in the unlikely event that GPS was overpowered. We had trained for small-scale terror attacks, we had trained for counter-insurgency, and for counter-espionage. But we never expected to be defending ourselves against our own protectors.”
Maria realized that her audience was beginning to lose focus, and she had yet to explain why they were here. In retrospect, she wished she hadn’t begun the briefing by discussing the conflict at all. When planning the mission it was thought that recounting the history of the conflict would provide necessary context, and also help to engender trust through openness and honesty. But it was now clear that this was a mistake. Instead of building trust she was stoking their fears and creating a rift between them, but there was no going back now. She continued, quickening the pace of her speech. The holo-emitter responded in kind, speeding up to stay synchronized.
“The attack was unexpected, coordinated, and on a massive scale,” said Maria, watching the emitter display the events as she told them. “UEC installations all over the planet, such as the space port where...” Maria paused briefly, remembering Summer’s earlier reaction, and adjusted her words, “...where your rangers d
iscovered us,” she said carefully, “were all overrun. Orrum shipments were seized. GPS had succeeded in all but one area; if they were to achieve their goal they had to take the primary UEC base on the moon. They assaulted, but the UEC forces pushed them back. The moon base was a veritable fortress and well protected, but had one major weakness. In order to transport the vast quantities of orrum around the planet, the UEC, over a period of decades, had built an orbital refinery and distribution network. It was an astonishing feat of engineering that encased the entire planet, like a net.”
The holo-emitter switched to a display of the planet, rotating slowly, and everyone watched as a monumental web of metal and machinery gradually built up around the sphere. Underneath was a number, steadily increasing as the contraption evolved and expanded. Ethan considered that this might be time, perhaps years. If so, the refinery was a long time in the making. Maria indicated to sections of the display, and the emitter obliged by zooming in.
“The refinery had distribution nodes located above every major capital and city on the surface,” she said, highlighting some of the megacities, “but, ultimately, it was linked to the moon base at one key location, like an artery leading to the heart. This artery was the most sophisticated element of the refinery, as it had to detach and re-attach to the refinery in perfect synchronization with the relative motion of the moon and planet. When connected, it opened a conduit that led directly into the moon base, allowing for massive quantities of orrum to be fed into the refinery from the mines on the moon. But it was also an unrestricted path into the base, and a passage GPS needed to control. Unfortunately, the attack went catastrophically wrong.”
The holo-emitter zoomed in to the moon base to show a number of objects, similar to the shuttle they had found crashed near the city, swarming around the enormous metal conduit, plus a single and much larger vessel, waiting further away. Maria reached into the display and seemed to physically manipulate it. “GPS calculated that they could attack the primary valve and detonate a small amount of orrum,” said Maria, pointing to where the refinery’s vast umbilical conduit adjoined to the moon base. “Orrum is highly explosive and unstable in raw form, so in order to breach the primary valve and create an opening directly in to the moon base, GPS intended to detonate the orrum travelling in that section of the conduit. But they miscalculated.” Maria gestured to the emitter and it showed the vessels firing weapons of some kind at the base of the conduit, followed by a flash as the conduit exploded. The light from the emitter shone so brightly that the observers had to squint and shield their eyes.
Maria continued, even more urgently. “Instead of breaking a hole in the valve, they caused a chain reaction in the conduit,” she said. “The initial blast destroyed the attacking ships, and the shock wave pushed this larger support vessel away from the moon, taking some damage, but nothing critical.” Maria highlighted and zoomed in to the larger vessel they had seen on the display earlier. Ethan, Summer and the administrators watched the holo display showing the vessel spiraling away into space, partially on fire, the flames dancing around it like ethereal, glowing liquid. “The explosions cascaded along the conduit,” Maria continued, and the emitter switched back to the base and the metal umbilical stretching from it, with explosions rippling along it. “The cascade eventually reached the planet and hit the first refining node, which contained refined orrum in addition to the raw orrum flowing through the conduits. Together the explosive force was amplified more than a thousand times.”
The holo display showed the explosion. Even this small re-creation lit up the room, causing everyone to again squint against the brightness. In the glow, Maria saw Ethan’s face. Gone was his eager excitement of earlier, replaced now by shock, but still in his eyes she could see the wonder. Maria supposed that he was getting what he desired, though perhaps they were not the answers he’d hoped for. The light diminished and the holo paused, waiting for her next words. Her throat was dry. She moistened her lips and continued; conscious that the room had been silent, save her own voice, for several minutes.
“The explosion caused a cascade reaction,” Maria went on. “It ignited the orrum in the refinery’s conduits, which in turn led to other nodes, like touch paper. As each node exploded it spread the fire to an ever-widening web of conduits. It quickly grew out of control.” The holo zoomed out, and showed the progression of the cascade. As each node detonated, it lit the ‘touch paper’ trail to other nodes, expanding exponentially around the planet with each explosion. A chain reaction like that could have only one end. Everyone watching could see it, and even though Maria and Kurren had witnessed this re-creation a hundred times, its impact on them had never diminished.
“There were disaster plans for isolated events, of course,” Maria continued, “but these assumed the UEC and GPS would collaborate to have an emergency response to combat any fire spread. But no contingency plan had accounted for the UEC and GPS being at war with one another.” The emitter pulled back to show the cascade of explosions rippling around the planet. “In only a few hours the fire had spread through the entire refinery. Every node, above every population center on the planet, detonated with a force beyond imagination. The refinery was completely destroyed, with terrible conse-quences...” she faltered as the holo display switched again, zooming in to an individual node as it exploded. The viewers looked on as fiery debris erupted in all directions, spreading and overlapping the expulsions from adjacent nodes and eventually shrouding the atmosphere in a tormented blanket of burning metal and rock.
Maria forced a dry, painful, swallow and continued. “The fragments of the refinery fell into the atmosphere,” she said, watching the emitter replay the events as she told them. “Thousands of the larger pieces penetrated the atmosphere and bombarded the surface, destroying every major population center.” The holo emitter moved on to display images of burning hulks of metal and rock slamming into cities and towns on the surface, and exploding with a ferocity that made the planetsiders in the room gasp, even Talia. Summer clasped a hand over her mouth, while Ethan nervously clenched his hands. Neither could tear their eyes away from the images. “The smaller fragments burned up in the atmosphere, polluting it and causing toxic rains that fell for years afterwards,” Maria finished, solemnly. “The effect was a near-total annihilation of the planet’s population, and irradiation of the soil and atmosphere.”
There was a moment’s pause, as the holo display reached the end of its depiction, and gently turned off, with a soothing hum and slow dimming of its light. The grace with which the emitter ended its story was so at odds with the violence of the images it had displayed that it only added to the intensity of the event.
Eventually, Talia spoke, her eyes burning with intensity. “But we survived,” she said, looking at Maria. “We are here!”
“Yes,” Maria said, her voice trembling slightly. “Some of the suburban areas escaped the heaviest bombardments, and more remote areas and populations were less severely hit,” she hesitated, “but there is more...”
“Killing everyone on the surface not enough for you, was it?” The interjection was from Summer. She had been silent for long enough.
Maria looked over the table and saw the flame-haired warrior staring at her with dagger-like eyes. Maria chose not to respond directly, and instead continued to direct herself to Talia, albeit a little more hesitantly than before. “The fallout of orrum radiation had unforeseen and disastrous consequences on our biology, mutating genes and causing irrecoverable neurological damage. It would begin relatively benignly, but as the damage progressed over time, the affected would begin to lose all sense of self and all emotional empathy, turning into a base, almost primal being, yet one that still possesses the knowledge and core abilities they had prior to being affected.”
Ethan had no idea what the words, ‘biology’, ‘genes’, and ‘neurological’ meant, but he knew precisely what Maria was referring to. “The Maddening,” he said, somberly. Ethan had come into this room expecting knowled
ge to set his mind free and help him put his life into perspective, but nothing he had learned had made him feel any easier, and more in control. If anything, he felt foolish for being so naive.
Maria looked at Ethan. He had the look of a man who had been told an awful secret and instantly regretted knowing it. Maria could tell that Ethan was in turmoil. “The Maddening, as you call it, is not really a disease,” said Maria, “it is worse. Those who survive long enough eventually change. They become something else; something… inhuman.”
“So why are we not affected by this radiation?” asked Talia. It sounded like a challenge.
Maria shifted in her seat. She was not used to the bare wooden furniture and was starting to feel numb. “You are second-generation descendants of the people who survived,” she said. “Your grandparents and great grandparent were not affected because of a very rare natural immunity, which you have inherited.”
“Oh, aren’t we so special and lucky?” It was Summer again, the bitterness clear in her voice.
Talia looked over at Summer and held a hand up. Summer bit her tongue, but her eyes remained fierce and locked onto Maria. “So that explains us, Maria,” said Talia, a little frostily, “but, forgive me, we did not ask for or desire a history lesson, and you have still not explained why you are here.”
Maria nodded. “No, I understand, but the background is important as to why we’re here, and we also wanted to show that we’re not your enemy.”
“That remains to be seen,” snapped Summer. “Just get to the point.” This time Talia failed to reprimand her. Clearly, she mirrored her feelings, and was also beginning to become frustrated. The flame-haired ranger was starting to grate on Maria now, but she pushed her anger aside.