Bold War 2020

by Redemption

  Andrew interrupts his line of thought. "The first thing I want to know about is Sylvia - and Kent," he demands. "I was sidetracked yesterday by your challenge and my tiredness."

  "Ah, here comes Christiana now. She's keen to start and is an expert in what she does. I'll leave her to look after you in all ways - including questions."

  Christiana glides in, all smiles and dressed freshly in white slacks and cool green blouse.

  "Andrew. Hope you slept well, not too restless for the first night of your new life?"

  "Looking forward to my second big day," he responds, resisting an impulse to add 'with you'.

  A technician enters the room wheeling on a trolley what looks to Andrew like a large TV set with a proliferation of buttons, knobs and dials. A keyboard is connected, the whole in a tone of magenta blue. He positions it at the foot of the bed. "If you could just help me calibrate the Video Centre, sir," he asks in neutral detached tone. "Please focus your eyes on the part of the screen where I place this pointer."

  He points to the top left hand corner. With some difficulty Andrew focuses until a small violet light flashes. The technician repeats the procedure for the other three corners and then departs, leaving Andrew and Christiana alone.

  "Sylvia and Kent?" Andrew asks curtly.

  "Yes, I understand you've been enquiring. You already know they died at the same time, but as yet have no explanation. The answer to your question and many others about the world of 2050 and how we got here from where you were in 2020 is in this film I'm about to show you. It's a summarised version of the important relevant happenings of the past thirty years, paying particular attention to the process by which the world changed.

  "It has been highly edited through a control program by Dr Dench and me so as to pick out the significant components that influenced the changes. Being recent history at the time it was made some of the characters are played by themselves. A certain amount of creative licence has been used to communicate effectively - which after all is the object of the film. It thus not only dramatises but selectively filters and reinforces where necessary.

  "So all will be revealed. And when put into context within the overall sequence of events it will explain much more concisely and clearly than I could possibly manage."

  She gives him that long deep look again and he finds no reason to argue. For a fleeting moment he wonders whether Christiana and perhaps Cameron have a skill that enables them to exert power over him in his weakened state, perhaps even a hidden agenda. But then it evaporates - he is completely in their hands.

  "The film is viewer-friendly. You have control through the Video Centre, or VC as we call it, over what you see and in how much detail, even though you can't yet move. You can stop or start the film by focusing on the top left hand corner and blinking twice. We call that a double blink or 'dink'. Try it."

  Andrew focuses on a green letter 'S' in the corner and dinks. The 'S' changes to red, he hears music and sees a title 'WORLD IN TRANSITION' appear on the screen.

  "Can you switch it off until we're ready?" asks Christiana. He does so by dinking the red 'S", pleased at his prowess, even if it is limited.

  "Likewise there are three other controls at your disposal. Bottom left is an orange 'W'. I've programmed the film so that any word or phrase being used, either in the film or in general conversation while the set is switched on, that has come into existence in the last generation will be defined at the bottom of the screen. If you want further detail beyond the brief definition, dink the 'W'.

  "Allow me to illustrate. One of my main activities is what we nowadays call an 'Eductor'."

  Before Andrew can ask what it means the definition appears at the bottom of the screen. ['Eductor: A person who brings forth, draws out, evokes or develops from latent or potential existence.']

  Not satisfied, Andrew dinks the 'W'. ['Eduction: From Latin educare - to lead or draw out. Process of bringing out or developing from latency. Same derivation but to be distinguished from education: systematic instruction or system of this.']

  The orange 'W' is still shining at him, but Christiana's fingers are drumming the arm of her chair (ever so lightly) so he resolves to explore later.

  "Top right is a blue 'D'. This allows you to seek more detail on a subject if you wish. Dink it and a list of the four most recent activities or concepts that have been seen will flash on the screen with a coloured dot in front of each. The four colours correspond to the colour of the letter in each corner. Dink that corner and you will be given an explanation of the chosen topic in some detail. Dink it again if you need still more detail or substantiated proof.

  "Finally, the yellow 'T', bottom right. When it lights up at any time during conversation it indicates that further explanation of the speaker's thinking or reasoning is available. Overall we call this four-corner choice 'Sid' - Selective Interaction Detail.

  "Very good." Andrew is impressed. "I get the picture, as one might say. I often thought a major disadvantage of a film compared with a book was its inability to elucidate thoughts."

  "Quite so. With this array of controls we are able to keep films to a reasonable length for individual viewers. As different people have different interests and levels of knowledge we can cater for all tastes. Of course if you wanted to go through all the detail and thinking, for example as a research student, the film would last twenty times its minimum length. But most people don't want to go all the way."

  "With the film," she adds, as he darts a quick look in her direction.

  "Much better than some of the dry old films I've waded through in my time," says Andrew appreciatively. "When do we start?"

  "Two things before we get under way. I've programmed the film to pitch at a middle level - not too fundamental, but basic enough for you to get a quick grasp of the contents without being too airy-fairy. (Yes, we still use that expression.)"

  "In my present state that sounds about right," says Andrew. "What's your second point?"

  "Well, so you won't be too surprised, your brother Kent had a major part to play in some dramatic world changes."

  "I'm not surprised, I'm amazed," Andrew comments after a pause. "Kent was very capable and active, but always for his own ends. He belittled attempts to make changes on a world scale. While he achieved a lot for himself back then, I wouldn't have expected his subsequent conquests to be at the level you're talking about… I look forward to the revelations, but hope I can get the hang of these controls."

  "We are well advanced with our research for thought control of VC's, which in future will give more speed and flexibility, but we're not quite there yet. However most people have little trouble in coping with Sid and still maintaining a reasonable film show," she said. "So I know you won't have any trouble at all."

  She's handy with the feel-good lines, thinks Andrew. Pretty good all round in fact. I wonder how typical she is of 2050 youth?

  "Shall we get started then?" she asks pleasantly.

  "Let's go," he replies enthusiastically.

  CHAPTER 7 Reprieve

  Andrew starts the film. After 'World In Transition' a secondary title 'A Film of Rapid Global Transformation 2020 - 2050' appears against a background of dark clouds, lightning flashes and dramatic music. Pictures of war, poverty, famine, acid rain, domestic violence and crime assault the screen.

  A Burtonesque voice-over intoned: "The twentieth century was blessed with rapid technological growth. Cars, aeroplanes, computers, international communications. Life in the Western world was transformed with scientific advances, labour-saving devices in the home, reduced hours at work, more leisure time and abundant entertainment.

  "But progress came at a cost. Human abilities were unable to keep in step with the frenetic pace of change. At the close of the twentieth century there were more tensions, conflicts and problems than ever before in history. Trends were worsening, and prospects for the future were, at best, bleak, at worst… cataclysmic.

  "Some people were concerned but impotent. Reli
gions and charities were doing their best, but, concentrating on the fallen, they were fighting a losing battle - as if against gravity. Many people complained and criticized. There were theories and suggestions but no positive action. People were mostly indifferent or preoccupied with inconsequentialities. What, if anything, could be done to interrupt the inexorable slide to disaster, to pull back from the brink of ruination?

  ~

  Andrew's mind recalls his paper outlining the world's problems. Am I now going to see solutions?

  ~

  The voice-over had been accompanied by images of doom and gloom, ending with blank-faced teenagers in the process of committing suicide. The music changed tone: "Into this maelstrom, or quagmire, depending on your point of view, stepped an unlikely figure." Dynamic pictures of Kent in his business activities and mining glory flashed on the screen.

  "From a modest background, Kent Buchanan applied abundant energy and determination to rise inexorably to the top of the mining world. Feared for his ruthlessness, respected for his achievements, envied for his wealth and influence. Power was pre-eminent, altruism anathema. But all this was to somersault, in the most dramatic way."

  ~

  Andrew's eyes had been widening. He stops the film. "Is this some sort of joke?" he asks, glaring at Christiana. "Kent had a life history of disinterest in public welfare. He concentrated totally on wealth-building for himself. I can quote you hundreds of examples. You must be kidding."

  "Not me Andrew, these aren't my words. I told you he had a major role to play. Can I suggest we just watch the film for a while?"

  Seething, Andrew restarts the film. It shows live footage of Kent making his comments at the conference on world problems. The memory is crystal clear to Andrew. He catches, excitedly, a glimpse of himself in the audience. Then the car trip with Kent playing himself and Andrew played by an actor. "Hey, I wasn't quite that good-looking," he quips.

  His light mood dims as the bee scene is re-enacted.

  "You can jump the next bit if you like,' Christiana offers.

  "No… I want to go through it," he says unsteadily.

  Again he experiences, in slow motion, the angry bees, the wild car ride, the crash. Fascinated, he sees the two bodies slump unconscious. He pales, and curses silently as the bee's sting is highlighted pumping its cocktail into his neck.

  As the screen goes black between scenes, Christiana puts the film on hold. "You're sweating Andrew. A good sign, but are you all right?"

  "It was hell," he says through gritted teeth. "But it fills a blank. A catharsis of sorts. Keep going."

  She helps him to a drink and they continue. Images of an ambulance with siren blaring. Of intensive-care wards. A person whose head is almost completely swathed in bandages, tubes protruding from the body and surrounded by instruments. Looking closely he asks "Is that me?"

  Quietly, without emotion, Christiana says "Yes, that's you Andrew, not the actor."

  ~

  The body was still except for light erratic breathing. Doctors and nurses moved about. A young Cameron Dench was saying "We have confirmed he's in a deep coma. Body functions are working satisfactorily. Potentially, the main damage appears to be to his brain, particularly the brain stem. There are some complicating and puzzling aspects about the injury that will need investigating."

  Dench moved to another body in intensive care, with bandages on the head and a leg in a sling. "The instruments are going crazy. I doubt if we can save Kent Buchanan. His body and probably his mind are going through some sort of a crisis. (Two comas from the one bloody accident! I know I was short of patients, but this is great - I mean, er, too much)."

  The camera zoomed to Kent's face: the one visible eyelid flickering, face contorted, muscles twitching. It showed the erratic dance of instruments, then blackness, then an array of graphic display and music the like of which Andrew had never experienced. Startling colour, images, movement, visual and aural sensation. Entertainment in its own right if the subject hadn't been so serious.

  A voice-over spoke. It was Kent from six months later. "I had what is known as a near-death experience. Because of its significance I want to talk about it, even though I can't possibly do it justice in words and it hurts me to try.

  V

  "I remembered the bees and the car getting out of control, then nothing except a swirling dark mist. There was a feeling of utter loneliness - no noise, no hot or cold, no living thing - just loneliness. Was this what death was like? Nothing? I was drifting in the dark. I felt a complete sense of helplessness, hopelessness and… worthlessness. Time was yawning into infinity. The air was filled with sound I could not hear. There was 'rightness' all around me, with an odour that made me uneasy. I sensed a presence, at once primeval, cosmic and ethereal, but no matter how quickly I turned, it evaded me.

  Vivid images and striking sound swirled and throbbed.

  "I felt a weight on my head and lifted it off. It was a crown, richly adorned with jewels. Fleetingly I was proud of my kingship before the feeling evaporated, as through the mist dimly I saw my many possessions begin to crumble. My subjects were kneeling. When they lifted their heads their faces were blank except for mouths that sneered.

  "Then I began to see other kings and queens, many with kingdoms smaller than mine. Most were unhappy, especially the larger ones. As the mist cleared I saw we were in a huge anteroom, waiting.

  "My name was called and I had to enter another chamber. Before me was a real king, stern and resplendent. He wore a golden crown with tartan trim and a large jewel shining from a thousand facets. I found myself accountable, for the very first time, trying to justify my life. Frustratingly, it was impossible to assign real value to my earthly power or influence or riches. The jobs I had created were outweighed by the meanness of their conditions. The products I had built counted for nothing. Everything of a material nature -it just de-materialised, as being of no long-term value.

  "'Stuff! Just stuff,' a voice intoned. 'You were stuffing yourself with the stuff of life while the world was being stuffed.' And there was a lot of giggling around me - infantile, as if it was common knowledge. That got to me. My life-long efforts weren't leaving the world a better place than I found it.

  "The real king spoke. 'Mastery and domination have isolated you from people. Satisfying in the short term, but empty and despairing when it matters - as you now see. Your absorption in the frantic pursuit of money and power, status and pleasure has been matched by your obsessive and addictive behaviour. Yes, obsessive and addictive - and Scrooge-like - as with so many of your kind, and where has it got you? Emptiness and spiritual hunger.

  'You won't readily admit it, but you wanted to be looked up to, be remembered in the future. But for what? Anything worthwhile like helping your fellow man, or improving the lot of mankind? You know the answer to that, you miserable misfit.'

  "I summoned my lawyers to speak for me, to persuade the king of kings. But in the chamber there was a strange compelling power. It came from the crown jewel. Once anybody had looked at it - and who could help but admire its radiance - they were only able to speak the strict truth. My lawyers were struck dumb.

  "I had such a powerful yearning, a feeling of hollowness and lost opportunity. If only I had another chance, knowing what I had just learned…

  "The royal auditor stepped forward and declared my life unworthy, bankrupt. Me!… Bankrupt! And then the foreman of the celestial jury appeared. It was Harry, my ex-employee."

  "You are found guilty, not once, not twice, but thrice guilty," he intoned.

  "Thrice? Of what?"

  "Of not doing anything for anybody other than yourself and being intensely selfish and acquisitive."

  "Sentence - one dose of purgatory," boomed the king.

  "And guilty of actively taking advantage of other people, while being ruthless and domineering."

  "Sentence - five doses of purgatory."

  "Worst of all, being in a position to change things for the better, with your
abilities, your resources and your opportunities, you were negligent, nay delinquent, and did nothing."

  "Sentence - fifty doses of purgatory."

  "It was such a hopeless, helpless and devastatingly lonely, worthless feeling. Remorse. Intense longing. Painfully I became aware I could have, should have done more. And now I was being spirited away, too late.

  "But I have influence!" I shouted. My voice echoed round the chamber and came back as mockery. "I have powerful contacts! I can make things happen. I can change things to the way I want."

  "Not any more," thundered the king.

  "But I want to, I can make a difference. Please (a word I seldom used), is there any way I can have another chance?

  "The king didn't answer, but became brighter and brighter until the space he occupied was a white shimmering light. It was welcoming, fascinating, so inviting, a haven. But I balked… if only… I must have another chance.

  "With all the might I could muster I pleaded desperately to the space. "P.L.E.A.S.E… I will make a difference.

  "The light dimmed slowly to black. I agonised that my plea had failed. Then I heard voices, shouting and laughing in the dark distance. The noise was getting louder, until it was raucous and surrounding me in a frightening cacophony. And then it was as if a light had been turned on. I was in the middle of a crowd in a large beer hall - of all places! It stretched further than I could see. The people were dressed in expensive clothes and talking loudly, partying, drinking. They were also dirty and scruffy, and there was a peculiar stench in the air. There was arguing and bickering - over nothing, it seemed.

  "Strangely, they seemed to alternate in their moods, from jocular to morose to argumentative. To begin with I could see no cause for their strange behaviour. Until I noticed shadowy figures moving amongst them. They were dressed differently - in ragged robes - and were serving drinks. They were sorcerers, I found out, and they were tempting the crowd with potions, mesmerising them with spells.

  "Some of the crowd took off their clothes and walked naked with their drinks, as if in a trance, into a huge bubbling, steaming pool fed by water gushing from the mouths of grinning frogs. I couldn't work out whether I had found myself in heaven or hell.