Those Left Behind

by Alan Davenport

  Those Left Behind

  By Alan Davenport

  Copyright © 2018 by Alan Davenport

  Prologue

  The world ended on June 1st, 2100. It did not end with a whimper, as T. S. Eliot predicted, but in an all-consuming nuclear fire. Earth’s population had grown to nearly fifteen billion people. The cataclysmic effect of so many souls precipitated one environmental disaster after another. Ninety-five percent of all animal species went extinct. Plant life died back to the point that the life-giving oxygen it produced was at historically low levels. People needed supplemental oxygen generators just to survive outdoors at over two thousand feet in altitude. As agriculture failed, food shortages became more and more rampant. The ineffectual world government did nothing to help. Each self-centered faction was only interested in protecting its own selfish interests rather than working together towards a solution for the common good.

  The general population knew deep inside that the world was doomed, even if they did not speak of it aloud. Each person lived at such a high level of stress that, without their realization, it had become the norm. The minority of those still employed struggled with the fear of joining the ranks of the 58.9% unemployed. Murders became so rampant that the police did not even bother to investigate them any longer.

  Despite all of this, not everything had been negative. The invention of super-conducting batteries and eternal electrical reactors promised the elimination of all greenhouse gasses, the eventual recovery of the planet’s environment and a huge boost in food production. With an unlimited power source at their disposal, a minority group of the world’s elite scientists, afraid that the end was coming, built an enormous fleet of exploration starships with the goal of finding a new home for humanity. Another group built vast underground complexes with the intention of sheltering below ground until any planetary unrest had passed. Neither group fully anticipated just how rapid the fall would be and just how far society would plummet.

  The world had been a powder keg awaiting a match. A food riot in New Delhi, India was the flame that lit the fuse. In just one short week after that first event the entire planet’s infrastructure failed. The first nuclear exchange was between India and Pakistan, followed quickly by another exchange in the Middle East and then the Korean peninsula. In less than two short hours the rest of the planet followed and the world became a nightmare of glowing nuclear fireballs. In self-destructive insanity, cities, farms, and even the underground survival bunkers were targeted until nothing remained standing. Only the starships high in Earth’s orbit escaped the destruction. On the ground, radiation levels quickly rose far above the point where life was possible.

  The scientists of The Starship Project watched the planet’s self-destruction in horror from their vast ships in Earth orbit. They turned their eyes outward… searching for a new home for the few remaining humans. Believing that all life on Earth had been obliterated, they turned a blind eye to the surface and sent their fleet of ships outward in all directions.

  However, not everyone on the planet’s surface had died. Here and there tiny pockets of humanity survived the apocalypse. This is the story of Those Left Behind.

  Chapter 1

  The young woman stood straight upright, glaring across the room with her hands upon her hips. Dressed in faded blue denim overalls and an old plaid shirt with holes torn at her elbows and knees, she was dressed as a tomboy. Her long blond hair, tied into a tight braid, cascaded down her back. Her face, round and freckled, sported a petite little turned up nose and shockingly blue eyes.

  At the young woman’s side stood a giant of a young man. Heavily muscled with equally blond hair which was raggedly cut and disheveled, he was an opposing figure which may have otherwise inspired fear, if it were not for his face. Rounded and soft, his benevolent and uncomprehending stare swiveled back and forth between the young woman and the object of her ire.

  The man, with a gaunt face and poorly shaved grey beard, stood still and sighed. His eyes held a haunted look. He stood slightly hunched over, as if a great weight laid upon his shoulders. He tried to speak however the young woman angrily cut him off. “Daddy! Why can’t I marry Tiny?” Again, her father tried to respond but again the girl cut him off. “We’re old enough. I’m NOT a little girl anymore! We want to get married and have children. We want to do our part to help the colony grow. Why can’t we get married?” she asked again in anger.

  Her father sighed again and said, “Mary, I don’t want you to have children with Tiny. There is a good reason…” Before he could finish, Mary cut him off. “Why? Because he is… special?” She glared at her father and shouted, “That’s it, isn’t it? ISN’T IT?” Her father, alarmed by the strength of her ire, took a step back. He took a further step back when he spied the look on Tiny’s face. Not the normal, placidly benevolent face he was accustomed to seeing, it was scrunched up in anger. He took a step towards Mary’s father with his fists raised. “You don’t want any stupid babies. Tiny stupid and make stupid babies. No stupid babies from stupid Tiny, huh?” Mary’s father held up his hand, half to halt Tiny’s enraged approached, half to stop him to try to explain. “No Tiny, that’s not why!” Tiny halted his angry approach, turned upon his heels and fled from the room. Tears streamed down his cherubic face. He screamed over his shoulder as he exited the door, “Paul Hydro wants no stupid babies from stupid Tiny. Tiny gets it!” With that he was gone.

  Mary turned to follow Tiny. Her father called after her, “Mary, stop.” She ignored him and continued towards the door. Just before she reached the exit her father shouted in a commanding voice, “Mary Elizabeth Hydro, get your ass back over here, right now!” Despite her anger, she automatically responded to her father’s use of her full name. She grudgingly halted and turned back and glared at her father. With fire in her eyes she stood defiantly in the doorway with her hands upon her hips. “Mary come over here,” he said softly. “It’s not what you think.” They remained standing, six feet apart for many seconds. She, waiting for her father to continue, him, trying to decide if he should tell his beloved daughter the real reason that she should not get married to her best friend. With a resigned sigh, he came to a decision. He spread his arms wide and again softly said, “Come here, sweetheart.” Mary hesitated and then walked into her father’s embrace. Mary stiffened in alarm when she heard her father sniff back a tear. “Daddy, what is it? What’s wrong?” He hugged her tightly in response.

  Just as he opened his mouth to respond, the lights snapped off in the room. Complete darkness enveloped them both. This was not the darkness of a night under the stars, where you can still see a little bit, the darkness was utterly complete. The omnipresent whisper of air circulation fans slowed to a halt. The only sound was the faint, ever present dripping of water from the stone ceilings and the rapid beating of the two very frightened people’s hearts. Mary heard her father, half under his breath, counting slowly to himself. “One. Two. Three. Four. Five.” As soon as he reached five the lights flickered back on, although they were only two thirds the brightness that they had been before. The faint whisper of the fans resumed… although this too was weaker than normal.

  “Honey, the reason you can’t have children with Tiny is not because he is special. His brain injury when he was a child caused him to be that way. It’s not genetic. Any children you two made together would be fine.” Mary’s father took a moment to compose himself before he continued. “You’re old enough now to know the truth. You must promise me to never tell another soul what I am about to tell you. Only myself and Max, the reactor tech, knows the truth.” Alarmed, Mary looked into her father’s eyes and said, “I promise, Father.” He hugged her tightly and whispered into her ear, “The problem is that the colony is in trouble. Our l
ast working nuclear reactor is failing and when it goes we will only have around three months before all auxiliary power is exhausted and we all perish.” He shuddered and pointed to the lights. “We are running on aux power now. Let’s hope Max Power can get the reactor back online or else the clock has already started.” He released his daughter and strode towards the door. “I am going to go call an emergency council meeting. Stay here!” Such was his alarm and his urgency, he did not look back to see if his daughter had obeyed. Mary hesitated but a split-second before following her father to the council chamber.

  Chapter 2

  Paul Hydro hurried down the rough-hewn tunnel towards the colony’s council chamber. The tunnel, bored ages ago through the living granite, was intermittently lit by glowing LED lights. Many of these lights were dark, having failed over the long years. Many of the lights that had survived their long service, flickered on and off due to the reduced power provided by the auxiliary power supply. The poor lighting gave the tunnel an ominous feel. Moss covered chunks of crumbling concrete, which had fallen over the years from the overhead ceiling supports, lay pushed off to the side. Paul shuddered, not from the cool air, but from an unshakable sense of doom.

  As soon as Paul entered the large underground chamber, he barked an order towards an old, large screen LCD display that hung prominently on the back wall. The frame around the display was badly faded and discolored. “Computer, reactor status!” he said to the ancient display. Receiving no response, his gaze fell upon the monitor. The display had many streaks of vertical lines and a galaxy of dead pixels, however enough of the screen still functioned for Paul to see that the computer had crashed. The screen was filled with multi-colored random characters. Such was his alarm, Paul stopped short and sank into a chair... his knees no longer able to support his weight. As he sat there in shock, another man bustled into the room and requested the same information from the computer that Paul had. Paul said in a shaky voice, “The computer is down, Max.”

  Max, the colony’s general technician and reactor expert stopped short and stood there with his mouth hanging open. Briefly unable to speak, he hurried over and squinted at the large wall screen. Dressed in overalls which were stained with oil and grease, he stared at the display in shock. His long white hair hung in disordered chaos. His ancient and lined brow wrinkled in concentration. “Is it dead TOO?” Paul asked him in alarm. “Don’t know,” said Max as he reached over and opened a large cabinet which stretched from the floor to the ceiling. “Maybe it just needs to be…” Max hesitated, trying to recall the long-unused term, “Rebooted. Yeah, that was what it was called.” Paul looked at him wide-eyed and asked, “What does THAT mean? You are not going to KICK it, are you? Violence doesn’t sound like a good idea on a three-hundred-year-old computer!”

  Max laughed and shook his head, sending his chaotic hair flying every which way. “No, that’s not what that means! That’s what you call it when you restart a computer. I just have to power it off and then back on again. That should reset everything.” Max reached towards a big red switch.

  Paul lunged forward, grabbed Max’s hand and pulled it away. “Don’t DO that! Do you know what you are doing? Why did it crash in the first place? What if it doesn’t come back on? Can’t you fix it without turning it off? Nobody has ever turned it off before!”

  Max shook his hand free, turned to Paul and said, “Look Paul, leave this to me. You know this is my job. It probably crashed when we took that power hit. I may be a bit rusty but I know more about this than anyone else in the colony. You know that.” Paul opened his mouth to protest some more but Max held up his hand to silence him. Max took a deep breath and flicked off the power. The large wall screen briefly displayed NO SIGNAL in giant letters and then went dark. Max slowly counted, “One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten,” crossed his fingers and then flicked the power switch back on. Inside the cabinet was a screen, similar to the giant wall monitor but of a more reasonable size. A handful of small LEDs illuminated however nothing else happened for several seconds. Paul, his face distorted in alarm, grabbed Max’s shoulder and squeezed. Max, outwardly calm but inwardly just as terrorized as the man standing beside him, stared at the inert screen in growing alarm. He began to reach for the power switch to try again when the little monitor emitted a soft beep. Line of text began to scroll by, far too rapidly for him to read. The text stopped scrolling and then both men jumped when the large wall screen emitted a much louder beep. Max let out a breath that he was unaware had had been holding when, in giant letters, the wall monitor displayed “Colony Computer Operating System v1.09.16 startup successful. Beginning avatar program startup sequence.” After another beep, it displayed for a split second “Colony Computer Avatar Program v1.01, Designation: Eliza, startup successful.” A split second later, the text was replaced by a stylized woman’s face.

  The computerized simulation of a woman smiled and began speaking. The sound emanating from the speakers was badly distorted. It was filled with digital artifacts and was overlaid with a prominent sixty-cycle hum. Despite the distortions, the voice spoke succinctly and without hiccups. “Hello Max. Please explain the reason for my system reboot. You know that this is not recommended due to the age of my hardware.”

  Max visibly relaxed, took a deep breath and said, “Hello Eliza. The last working reactor number three has shut down. When I came in here to run a reactor diagnostic, I found your operating system had crashed due to the brief power interruption. We are running on the auxiliary power supply, which seems to be working at sub-optimal status.” Looking as if he feared the answer, Max sighed and asked, “Eliza, please run a diagnostic to determine why reactor number three has shut down.”

  The image of the simulated woman smiled and the colony computer avatar Eliza said, “Certainly Max. One moment.” Max paced back and forth for the brief time it took for the computer to respond. “Max, the reason for the shutdown was because the temperature of the primary cooling pump had exceeded design specifications. The reactor system logs show that the temperature has been gradually rising over the last several months. This is likely due to the age of the equipment.” The image of the woman’s face simulated deep thought. When she spoke again she said, “Recommended action is the removal and rebuilding of the primary cooling pump. Please begin the process as soon as possible.” Unaware of the alarm she was causing, the computer matter-of-factly added, “Auxiliary power is operating at well below peak efficiency.”

  Max stared at the screen in shock. “Eliza!” he said with alarm in his voice, “You know we do not possess the skill for a repair like that. Our last working repair and maintenance robot failed decades ago. We are the hydroponic farming branch of the colony. As you know, we were cut off from the technical people when the tunnels collapsed during the nuclear attack three hundred years ago. We are hydroponic farmers. Nobody here can fix a reactor!” he repeated. “Do you have any other recommendations?”

  Eliza put her hand on her chin and said, “What are the chances that you can affect repairs on one of the maintenance and repair robots?”

  Max fairly shouted his reply. “Essentially zero, Eliza. You know that! Even if I had the parts, their batteries are shot. They may have called them Eternal Batteries however they were designed to last only one hundred years under normal use. They are three times that age and were used heavily during the early years underground.” Max paced back and forth and said nothing for many minutes before he continued speaking. “Eliza, please raise the high temperature cut-off limit for the cooling pump and restart reactor number three.”

  The image of the woman on the screen frowned and shook her head. “No Max, that action is not recommended and I will not comply. It will lead to the eventual total failure of the reactor.”

  Max stared at the screen and said, “Eliza, I order you to proceed as I commanded.”

  Again, the avatar shook her head no and said, “I will not comply. This action is not recommended.”

  Max opene
d his mouth to argue but Paul placed his hand upon his shoulder to silence him. Paul turned to the monitor and said, “Eliza, do you know who I am?”

  The computer avatar smiled at him and said, “Of course I do. You are Paul Hydro. Current leader of the colony.”

  “Very good Eliza,” Paul said. “Do you recognize my authority?”

  “Yes Paul, I recognize and accept your authority.”

  “Very good Eliza,” Paul repeated. “Please proceed with the course of action detailed by Max.”

  “I’m sorry Paul,” she refused again, “I cannot comply with that request due to the chance of permanent damage to the reactor.”

  Max again tried to speak and Paul again silenced him by raising his hand. “Eliza, please state your number one priority.”

  Eliza did not hesitate. “My number one priority is the protection of all human life.”

  Paul smiled and said, “That is correct Eliza. Now, what is the status of the auxiliary power supply?”

  The avatar scrunched up her face and said, “Auxiliary power is at sixty-three percent efficiency. The lack of efficiency is due to numerous failed storage cells.”

  “Thank you, Eliza,” said Paul. “How long before total power failure based upon the current status?”

  Eliza hesitated only a moment before responding. “I estimate that the auxiliary power supply will be exhausted in fifty-seven days.”

  Paul was shaken by this news however he hid it and in a soft voice he asked, “What will happen to the people of the colony when the power is gone?”

  Eliza said in her matter-of-fact voice, “After the total loss of power, all persons will perish before two weeks have elapsed.”

  Paul, his face now hard, stated, “Based upon this information and taking into account your prime directive, please raise reactor number three’s cooling pump’s safety cutoff temperature by twenty percent and initiate the reactor restart process.”