He was tall with dark hair as black as evil. His crystal blue eyes were piercing and contrasted with his darkened skin. He looked out from behind wire rimmed glasses, which contained only clear glass. His cut features and square jaw gave him the appearance of decisiveness and leadership. He appeared slight of build, but his manner and aspect commanded respect.
The room was dimly lit, but Blue’s gaze was seen and felt by the other two. He surveyed his colleagues, looking for a few seconds into the eyes of each of the other Regents.
“Who called this meeting and why?” he asked, breaking the palpable silence with such an emotionless tone, even the two other hardened souls in the room felt a slight chill and shiver along their collective spines.
“We have a problem; in fact we have two problems,” the woman, Regent Red, answered with a softer but just as cool a tone in her voice. She spoke with a slight accent, indicating English was not her first language, but her first language was difficult to determine from her accent. “Population numbers are too high and the trial is not moving fast enough. I will authorize a harvest in order to eliminate both problems once and for all.”
“Harvest? How many?” asked Regent Green, the other man. He had an accent that was Russian in origin. “We have already had a harvest this year.”
“Two point three million will be harvested,” said Red. “A second is necessary. All the data demonstrates it.”
“From which territory?” now it was Blue.
“From each...” she said, and then lowered her head. She closed a folder in front of her, and she repeated, “From each.”
“Very well,” said Blue. “Do not let it drag out. Last time it took too long and created too many questions.”
“Agreed,” Green said. Then he added, “How will you accomplish it?”
“My methods are my own,” Red said. She sounded defensive.
“Hardly,” said Blue, “your sloppiness last time affected us all. Clean it up.” His finger enunciated each word of his last sentence.
Red shot him a stern glance but then cowered. “As you say.”
Each of the three rose slowly together, with almost synchronous movements. They swiftly, but decisively moved toward the double doors in single file - Blue, Red, Green - and entered the hall to waiting security guards, who had been positioned just outside the sound proof conference room.
In a few minutes each entered an armored Mercedes and headed back to from wherever they came, which also was just one more thing not known among them.
Well, at least not all of them.
***
As he journeyed from the meeting to his next destination, Blue thought about what Red had said with her confident assertion she would eliminate both problems. He snorted audibly in disgust while pushing back in the seat of his limousine. He shook his head in disbelief.
“Sir?” his driver asked, looking in the rear view mirror.
“Nothing!” Blue said. “Drive on. If I need you, you will know it.”
He snapped his head to one side, annoyed at the young woman. She saw his glance and cowered. “My apologies, Director.”
“Just drive, I’ll call you soon,” he said, and he raised the soundproof, smoked-glass barrier separating the front and back sections of the luxuriously appointed cabin.
She nodded as the partition moved into place. You really should be nicer to me, she thought but did not dare say. She knew where they were going. She had taken the Director many times.
With the meeting over and Blue outside the meeting room, he was no longer Regent Blue. He was the Director. Few knew he was a Regent. So few in fact, he would have been both shocked and angered to learn this was no secret to his current driver.
Yes, he was a Director in this car, not Regent Blue. The world knew him as Director, the exception of only a handful of close advisors. He thought about his advisers and recalled their names. He was the one who stood guard against the vagaries of humankind and prevented the world from falling into chaos.
“And chaos would be the result,” he said. He thought of all the history he had read. Having access to the actual history books, he researched quite extensively the problems that plagued mankind before the World Revolution. To be sure, there had been national and regional revolutions throughout time, but they were mere precursors. Previous revolutions simply rearranged the various pieces on the game board.
A real change had not occurred until the World Revolution of almost 60 years ago. He considered the prior decades leading up to the Revolution and those pitiless nations fighting one another over resources and land and even air and ocean space. How wasteful and how pointless!
What had they accomplished? Nothing!
Humankind had not improved since the caveman. The important things before the Revolution were still about acquiring food and land.
Nonsense, he thought. No wonder the terrorists gained such a strong foothold in not only the hearts of the people but in the lands they possessed.
He thought about how in the last century, ethics had at last surpassed outmoded Enlightenment thinking and caught up to the technology available to great visionaries. These in turn had been able to move the world, indeed human civilization, to an unprecedented level.
The Director held his breath momentarily at the thought of it. In his mind’s eye, he saw the grandeur of the world coming of age and it overwhelmed him.
“How wonderful! How marvelous it is!” he said. “To have the boldness to move and the courage to act!” His whispered voice trailed off.
He noticed another quick glance from his driver in the rearview mirror.
Despite the barrier, she was able to see him and she reacted. His return look was unequivocal. Keep your eyes on the road, and if I need you, I’ll call you.
She is too attentive, he told himself. He bristled at the idea of someone in the place of a driver assuming the role of his protector. Even the idea she would need to check on him caused his stomach to turn in unpleasant ways.
If she only knew, he thought. Hunter turned his head and looked out the window of the moving vehicle.
His thoughts turned back to the point of their previous interruption. He smiled at the grandiose language he had earlier employed.
Although civilization had taken a huge step forward in recent decades, he realized he had become much too caught up in the moment. Perhaps he was mixing his own plans with what had taken place almost a century before.
All those different nation-states! All fighting with one another over land and energy and religion; it was madness! There were some technological breakthroughs to be sure, but the people and their leaders lacked the vision or will to use the technology to better society.
What a waste it all was! There was the waste of resources and wealth and technology but most of all, people!
Technology is a tool to be used, he thought.
All the experiments in earlier decades to build robots for replacing humans in manufacturing and even war was a misplaced use of technology. Use it to control people, yes, but not replace them; that would be wrong.
He must use resources and technology to bring order and peace to the world. Safety and security were needed. These were the values that had given rise to the vision necessary to defeat terrorism.
“Safety and security have to be at the core of any civilization’s belief system,” he reasoned.
The car hit a pothole in the road and jolted the Director back to the moment. Again, he glared at the driver.
Was she so stupid, he thought.
His mind flashed to a recent driving trip they took which ended at his private residence and chambers. He paused. She did have her uses, he thought, but he may have to find another job for her that did not involve the operation of machinery.
Keeping a mistress was frowned upon. Until he gained complete control, appearances had to be considered. Failure to consider appearances had been the downfall of others, most notably his own brother-in-law.
The thought occurred
to him that he would need to be more careful about when and where he considered his plan. He must not show too much too soon. Riding in this car, appointed especially for him, he could easily be lulled into thinking all is well, but all is not well.
The world is not as it should be, but if successful, he would correct what was wrong and reinforce what was right. The system was in place; it was just a matter of putting the right people in the right places.
There would be a price to pay in human life, but there always was.
Those who were able to embrace the promise of his vision, would welcome any sacrifice, he reasoned.
He just needed to arrange the right pieces in the right places on the game board of events. Changes would need to be made soon, and his mind went back to this night’s meeting. He knew of one change he would initiate in just a few days.
Red must be replaced
Red is an idiot, he thought.
Reviewing this evening’s meeting, however he realized she had taken the precise path he had laid out for her. Without knowing it, she was preparing the way for the necessary next step.
The car came to a smooth stop in front of a building awash in the glow of artificial lights. They had arrived at the main entrance of a guarded security checkpoint. Bright white light painted the high stone wall, but strangely the light appeared to emanate from the wall itself. All along its high boundary and through the central construction of what appeared to be stones, a light glowed.
The structure was impressive, and the light made the compound feel very secure. Ground assaults on this installation would be impossible with any stealth. The light of the wall, combined with the omnidirectional cameras spaced every ten meters along its top, allowed the computer surveillance system to capture all movement.
The Director’s car however, was not deemed a security risk by the computer. The Guardsmen just inside the wall’s gate also recognized the car, and when a solider initiated the standard car scan, a hand grabbed his elbow. His company-mate said, “That is the Director. Give him the DNA scan and let the car pass.”
Obediently, the young Guardsman waved his hand over a control panel projected in the air on a heads-up display. A bright blue curtain of light appeared from nowhere, as the Mercedes inched through the entrance. A confirmation appeared on both the heads-up display in the Mercedes and at the gate house.
Hunter, Stephen Oliver
Director
All-access permitted
The car moved forward with various unseen scans and checks taking place without human interaction, which were all computer controlled. All the reports were computer generated, the computer analyzed and filed the report. The car’s weight, tire condition, battery state, systems performance, and security were all checked.
The Director, Stephen O. Hunter also had a heads-up display, but one afforded few, even those in company service. An implant placed along his optic nerve, just at the base of the brain provided live input from any number of networks around the world. Because the optic controller had been wired into his neural pathways he could control what he saw using his thoughts.
He could turn the display on, turn it off, or receive selective input whenever and wherever he wished on a limitless number of topics. The circuitry and implant were a maddeningly wonderful interweaving of technology and physiology. Although years in development, the technology was now fully functional, but available only to those with appropriate clearance. At this time, only one person had appropriate clearance. The other Regents knew nothing of this technology, and Regent Blue believed there was no reason for them to know. He oversaw its development in his most secret of laboratories.
“Remember, the earlier models drove their users mad!” one scientist had warned. This was not true. They did not drive their users mad, but their behavior had been spotty, which is what everyone remembered.
The car drove toward the main building. Mr. Hunter planned an inspection of sorts. The Century Bureau commissioned him, as he told the story, to assess current capability and recommend any necessary improvement. This was a lie. He was there on his own initiative, and there was no one to stop him.
He acted like a king, and indeed he saw himself in this light. But not a king really, he saw himself as a Savior. A Savior of society with a mission to take mankind to a new and better place. A place where he would rule and keep order, and above all else, provide safety and security.
The building they approached was one of 423 harvesting centers. Naturally they were not called Harvesting Centers, as such a name would generate all manner of suspicion and investigation by the wrong people. Rather, they were called S.O.A.R. Centers (Support, Operation, Assimilation and Reprogramming).
Hunter laughed; they were just harvesting centers, and they would fit his plans very well.
The building was a long rectangle, about the size of a large factory. Seven tall water towers, large enough for a medium-sized city, stood behind the building, with a number of smaller out buildings dotting the compound around its perimeter.
With the exception of the same eerie glowing brickwork like the wall, the building itself was not remarkable. The walls were constructed of whitewashed stone standing forty meters high in most areas with five higher penthouse areas toward the back. The exterior walls were smooth except for stone seams every 40 meters running vertically and ten meters horizontally. The seam was marked by a small indention about the width of a candy bar, which was obvious since it alone of all the building construction did not glow. The walls looked like a giant checker board.
The car stopped in front of the only visible door. Hunter got out and walked to the door, and as he did so, minions dutifully exited the entrance to meet the Director and offer assistance.
“Should I wait?” the driver asked, as she exited the vehicle and stood in the driver’s side entry.
The director stopped and turned around with exaggerated slowness. “Did I ask you to leave? Of course you should stay. What would make you think otherwise?”
“As you say, Director.” Her reply was emotionless.
She had grown tired of his pointed barbs and his trite, demeaning quips. She had grown tired of this assignment in all its facets. Her objective would soon be achieved. Then she would ask for, no, she would demand, another, a better, assignment she thought.
She will have more than fulfilled her agreement after all. She felt momentary elation at the thought of going back home. She wanted to go back North, but she knew her duty, and she reigned in her emotions. There would be time to celebrate later.
Once inside, Hunter moved to a display panel mounted in his office just off the main hall. Although the hallways were brightly lit, almost antiseptically so, his office was dark. Going from the hallway into Hunter’s office had an eerie feel, as if all at once the energy had been sucked from the room.
On the forty-seven inch display, Hunter saw three regions, the Americas, Afurope and Asia. Regents controlled these three territories, one per region, in addition to having specific responsibilities for planning and oversight. Hunter had the Americas as well as economic concerns. This was a responsibility he would never give up, since the responsibility meant more opportunity, and more opportunity meant more control.
And Control fed his plan, and his plan would work.
The two global areas not within Regent control were the arctic regions. The harsh environment at the poles made it impossible for the implants to work effectively and little could be produced there anyway. He did not worry for the arctic. Nothing of consequence is there or ever will be there.
Everyone knows this, he thought.
He stared at the screen, looking for the appropriate indicators.
“What the…” he said. His voice trailed off, and he focused on a particular image displayed on the screen.
The Director, Stephen O. Hunter, flipped his internal switch and reverted, in attitude, back into Regent Blue. His face hardened, his muscles tensed and his back straightened. He turned and strode with a more
determined gait now, moving with staccato steps toward the door.
“She has already released the virus,” he muttered. He thought back through the series of the recent days’ events, and he paused. “No, it must have been released prior to tonight’s meeting. Very clever, Red. What a headache you have proven to be, but it’s my play now…”
He would take pleasure in accelerating this part of the plan.
The virus is ready.
They are fools, he thought.
Chapter 3
Joniver woke and shot up in bed. The disorientation that comes with first awakening clouded him like a dense fog.
He smelled.
He felt.
Had he been dreaming? What was going on and where was he? His room looked normal, but something was wrong. Everything seemed so far away.
What was happening?
The fog dissipated. He was in his bed in his bedroom, but it was not comfortable, and it felt too dark. He fumbled at the side of his pallet for the matches and candle, and it hit him.
He smelled smoke.
Something was burning.
There’s a fire.
He stiffened, looking up and around. Something was burning, and he smelled the smoke. The air was dark and thick with the smoke from the fire.
But he saw no flame.
Joniver jumped up from the floor and peered through the smoke, first one way then the other. The fire was not in his room. Where was Nana?
“Nana!” he said, “NAA-NAH!”
He leapt to the door and opened it at the same instant.
“Nana!” He coughed. He stood to his full height, and his tall frame pushed his head into the murky soup of the fire’s smoke. He heard Nana through the burning fog.
“Joniver! I’m in my room. I’m ok!”
“Come on, Nana!” He coughed with increasing frequency and intensity.
“Joniver, you need to get down and crawl!”
“What?”
She crawled over to her open door and saw his leg. She pulled it, raising herself just so she could feel for his hand. Doing so, she felt her lungs fill with the hot air from the smoke layer hovering above the floor like a giant thunder cloud. She found Joniver’s hand and pulled him down to the floor.
Another Force Page 3