by Sonador Snow
“On top of that, we're able to produce a serious amount of biofuel for our vehicles and machines,” Carolina added.
“Amazing.” The minister stopped in his tracks and looked around and above, still unable to contemplate the magnitude of this whole project.
They reached a part of the path where bars blocked the left side. The two men leaned over only to see below them another level and many more rooftops of different types of buildings. The elongated shapes and the metal panels used as material for the roofs cried out factories and working facilities.
Carolina explained, “On the third and fourth levels below us are all the offices, labs and the zone for services, entertainment and feeding. Under all that is our communication center, where Wong Wei headed when we arrived. There is also our conference room, which is also used as a place for all City Council meetings.”
“We're having good fun down there too,” Fabiana added. “We have several play areas with a small football pitch, basketball and volleyball areas, but my favorite is the swimming pool. It's built right above one of the underground streams; we use geothermal energy to warm the water. I love it there.”
They reached the last row of houses where three old men, all dressed in intense green robes, greeted them. They kissed the two women on the foreheads and, after that, bowed to the guests.
“Father, I want you to meet three of the founders of the Yuyuan and this underground city: the world-famous in the not-so-distant past architect, John Masterson; the computer genius, Akio Fukuzawa; and maybe the best brain surgeon in the entire world, Hans Grossmayer.”
“It's an honor, gentlemen. I read and heard a lot about all of you over the years and, please correct me, but aren't you all supposed to be dead?”
Hans Grossmayer answered, “Well, unfortunately for many people, we're still alive and kicking. It's a great pleasure to finally welcome you to our modest home, Minister.”
During that time, John Masterson stared intensely at Ian MacGeady and now he said, “Mr. MacGeady, you're warmly welcomed too. I hope you're not too disappointed after what we put you through back in Sao Paulo. Now you have the unique choice to either cause us major damage or to be of invaluable help. Not many people were given such a choice over the past fifteen years.” The young agent smiled a bit nervously as Masterson added, “I suggest you follow our lovely Fabiana to her place to rest and refresh and we'll talk again later.”
Fabiana understood and, holding Ian MacGeady's hand, led him through the chaos of small, quiet streets towards her house.
Once they disappeared around the corner, Akio Fukuzawa said, “And you, Mr. Gamejro, can join us in the Communication Center, if you're not feeling too tired.” Facing Carolina, he added, “My condolences, princess.”
She swallowed hard as tears dropped simultaneously from her eyes. Her father hugged her around the shoulders and said, “I'd be honored.”
“Follow us.” Masterson led them towards a much larger elevator to their right. Their descent was very short this time, and when the doors of the elevator opened, they found themselves directly in a big, brightly lit room which immediately reminded Ademar Gamejro of something he'd seen before.
With its chaotic order, sophisticated equipment and intelligent-looking people, it reminded the minister of the one time he was honored to visit NASA's flight control room in Houston before the organization merged with the Russian Space Program and their base moved to a secret location somewhere in Siberia.
Fukuzawa left their company and headed towards a group of people to their left that were discussing something passionately, while they made their way across the room, heading towards the far corner.
* * *
Taylor heard the noise of a machine gun behind him just as he was taking a risky step over one pointy branch of the tree spanning the fast-moving river. He turned quickly and immediately saw the Indian soldier aiming at him from barely fifty yards away.
Suddenly, a gunshot echoed through the forest and Taylor closed his eyes but didn't feel anything. He opened them slowly to see the soldier curled on the ground desperately trying to press his bleeding stomach. He looked back up front and saw Jinhun standing with the Glock in his hand. Without further delay, Taylor rushed the last few steps over the river and made it safely to his companion that had just saved his life.
The sound of broken branches and several short shouts showed them that the shot Jinhun had to make didn't go unnoticed. They just looked at each other and, using all their strength, picked up the end of the tree on their side of the river. After a minute of great effort, they were able to slide it down the rock surface and into the fast-running waters. There was no time to enjoy their small victory because, at this moment, a group of soldiers emerged from the trees on the other side and opened fire. Jinhun and Taylor ran down the hill stumbling and breaking rhythm every time they encountered unseen obstacles under the snow, but for now, the protection of the forest saved them and they won a small victory.
After they felt safe, Taylor asked to stop. During his passage over the river, he had hurt his hand badly and it kept bleeding. He washed it in the snow; the cold helped it close quicker. After that Jinhun bandaged it to the best of his abilities. They quickly ate two chocolate bars for energy and were ready to continue.
“Now where are we heading?” Taylor asked.
“We need to keep going down. After a while, the pine forest will make way for oaks and willows, and after that the swamp area starts. I can't tell you exactly where we'll enter them, but once we're there, we should be okay. I doubt anyone knows the swamps better than me.”
“Let's go then.”
They kept to a fast pace for about three hours going down; this took them to a warmer climate and oak forest. The snow had also gone a few miles up the hill, plus the terrain was more level and they were able to run quicker. A few times, their progression had to stop as they were forced to take cover under thick tree tops while helicopters scanning the area were flying above. Actually, the two men were helped by what would have been unfortunate in other circumstances. They had caught cold during the snow storm from the previous night and this made their body temperature a degree or two higher than normal, which on the scanners would have shown them as people with brain implants. Of course, one detailed check for the serial numbers of their implants would have shown that they didn't have any, but this was a time-consuming procedure. They felt safer for now.
The two made another short break to eat the last chocolate bars they had and for Jinhun to change Taylor's bandage as it had soaked with blood again.
The small round meadow on whose edge they stopped glistened in the sun; several butterflies and dragonflies made it look alive.
“How many bullets do you have left?”
“Two more full rounds. It should be enough. We must be very close now. I just want to reach the swamps, and after that I'm confident I can escape whoever is chasing me.”
They got up and continued walking through the semi-shade of the woods.
“Do you have fever?” Taylor asked, noticing Jinhun's trembling lips.
“I've had worst. I'm fine, thanks. What about you?”
“I'm used to coping with slight fever. Over the past decades numerous times, I've had to do a lot while having a high temperature. No problems. I've survived much worse than this.”
“You know, my friend, I wanted to ask you earlier, how did you acquire all this knowledge about living and surviving in the wild? As far as I'm aware, you were a financial consultant in big firms in your previous life.”
“That's true, that was my job. It allowed me to lead a normal life or, more precisely, the rat-race type. However, my true passion always had been nature. I used to steal every weekend possible, every holiday or a day off to get lost in the wild. This time spent away from all of civilization with my wife was my best days ever.”
“How come you chose working in finance then?” Jinhun quickly changed the subject. He knew that Taylor's wife had committed
suicide back in 2011 when the World Financial Crises had taken his family's home, car and savings in just over a month. The poor woman couldn't handle the stress.
“It was a bit strange actually that it became my profession because I was never too fond of it. I was good at it, but never passionate about it. I probably should thank my mother for that, may her soul rest in peace.” The trees around them were becoming sparser and sparser as they walked. In places, they were able to see very far into the valley ahead. “Before I was about to start at university, I wasn't very well-orientated about what I wanted to study. My initial plan was to work for a year or two and then decide. My IQ and test results guaranteed me a reserved place if I signed within four years. To be honest with you, my idea was to choose between archaeology, history, ecology or journalism, but my mum intervened. She said that I must have a solid profession and, after that, think what I wanted from life. Stupidly, I listened to her and immediately joined the university's finance course. As they say, all else after that is history.”
“What did your father think about that?”
“I grew up without knowing one. He left us when I was two. My mum never married again or even lived with another man. She raised me on her own. Despite all her drawbacks, she was a strong woman.”
At that moment, the two of them walked past the last decent line of trees and a clear view of the terrain around them was revealed. The sun had just been covered by a cloud and this helped them to have a better look. Everywhere they turned in front of them, swampy level terrain spread, with numerous small mangrove forests dotted here and there. Everything looked tranquil and very safe, but Taylor knew that this was deceiving. He was aware that most of the green surface he was able to see was only covering treacherous waters and muddy areas that could engulf a man in seconds.
Jinhun looked around to see where exactly they were, and a positive nod hinted that he was happy with their location.
“Follow me and stay close,” he said to Taylor and headed towards a cluster of trees to their left.
As they walked, Jinhun's eyes spotted a strange sight up ahead. Just above the lake that was over their underground city, four or five dark dots, behaving like birds, hovered in circles. He wondered what they could be as no flying animal that big he could see from such a distance was known to him.
Fourteen
Ademar Gamejro was sitting in a comfortable, soft chair in the far corner of the Communication Center. His daughter and John Masterson sat on either side and a black radio transmitter was placed on the table in front of them. They all had their attention focused on the broken sounds coming from it. It was emitting signals exchanged by the Indian militaries.
About an hour earlier, they heard for certain that, for now, Taylor and Jinhun had escaped capture and the search party wasn't getting anywhere as far as the Indians were concerned. Carolina was translating to her father. Her linguistic gifts were noticed when she was very young and urged on by her father. At the age of eighteen, she was freely speaking seven languages.
Doctor Grossmayer joined them to invite them to the conference room, where Fukuzawa and one other man were already waiting. They walked to a side door leading to a square space in which only a round table and a dozen chairs were placed. The soundproof doors closed behind them with a hiss.
At the far corner of the room, an old man with very broad shoulders rose from his chair and, in a hoarse voice and thick accent, said, “It's a pleasure to meet you, Minister. My name is Vladimir Apalikov. I'm an ex-astronaut. I have made three space flights in the past, and my ideas were the basics for the Soviet space program made known to the world in the early nineties when the Soviet Union fell apart.” The man had walked to Ademar Gamejro while talking and, ignoring the handshake offered, he drew Carolina's father close and kissed him on both cheeks.
“It's an honor to meet you,” the slightly confused minister mumbled.
They all sat after that and doctor Grossmayer spoke, “Before we start discussing serious matters, I want first to offer something for voting.” He faced Ademar Gamejro, “Can I rely on you that no matter what you hear in this room you'll keep it to yourself, even if you refuse to join our organization?”
“You have my word.”
“That's more than enough. Any objections?” He looked around, nobody said anything and he continued. “We're all sad at the recent loss of Fabio, may his soul find peace; and with Jinhun still not here, we simply can't wait longer. Time is a pressing matter and with the High Council of our organization currently reduced to only us five, I want to offer for voting to give Ademar Gamejro, the father of our beloved princess, temporary status as a High Council member. I'm sure his comments and observations can be useful to us.”
Everyone present, including Carolina, nodded in approval and, without further comments on that, the main conversation began.
Akio Fukuzawa took the chair first. “As we all know, our plan Apocalypse is in motion already and we're drawing close to the crucial date. In only two days' time, the little logical bomb I put in the old software of NASA for control of flights and satellites will come alive and the system will start behaving strangely.”
“Which will lead to…?” Ademar Gamejro asked.
“It will lead to a very short-time opportunity for us to reactivate and control the movement of space garbage circling around the planet. I was one of the main developers of the NASA software forty years ago, and this was when I put this virus in the system. Didn't like the way things were going even back then.”
“Do we have a better idea now which satellites we'll be able to control?” Masterson asked.
“Vanguard 1 for sure. This is the fourth artificial sputnik launched and the last connection with it was way back in 1964, but it's loaded with fuel and all systems are working perfectly.” Apalikov was explaining that part of the plan. “There are thousands of pieces of debris out there around it. Navigation, communication, meteorological and military stations that were taken out of use a long time ago. Not to mention super telescopes like Hubble, whose expiry date was years ago; they were left just circling in the outer layers of the atmosphere as nobody knew what to do with them. All this space garbage will be under our control for a day.”
Fukuzawa added to that, “According to all the records I've been going through lately, there are at least two thousand artificial objects out there with enough fuel left in their tanks so they can be directed and moved to where we want them.”
“Basically, Pa,” Carolina explained, “the whole idea of our plan Apocalypse is to destroy all active satellites in our orbit, which will lead to a total information blackout all over the planet for many years to come. This will prove fatal for all in power today.”
“I'm not so sure about that,” her father opposed. “The ones with power don't give it up easily. This is a fact that human history over the centuries taught us. Won't it be impossible to destroy all the satellites used out there?”
“This is exactly the weak spot of the world order at this time,” Akio Fukuzawa said. “All technology and communications have developed to such an extent nowadays that many of the fully operational old types of satellites were taken out of use long before they were out of order and were simply replaced by ultramodern, multifunctional, monster satellites. This helps us in two ways: first, the space around the planet is choked with debris that is still working if the computers are set to life again, and also the new satellites are very few because of their perfection. In fact, to be precise, the whole planet is controlled by only nine satellites out there as of 2021.”
“What do we know about the supercomputers here on the ground? Fabio worked on that, is that right?” Grossmayer said.
“He shared his findings with me before he died.” Carolina's voice was sad. “All these super machines, and mainly the ATU's computer 'Beast' which controls and monitors all implants, work on a similar principal. They collect information from numerous gathering points spread around the globe. The key thing is that all t
he information from these places is transported to the main computer by satellites.”
“So, without satellites, these machines will be starved of incoming information and will practically remain blind.” Ademar Gamejro stated the obvious.
“Not only that.” Fukuzawa smiled. “The most important working element for these supercomputers, one of them takes up pretty much the whole space of this room, is their cooling system. The indescribable amount of archives they have, the huge stream of information coming in every second, required a radical cooling design years ago. Luckily our John came up with the solution back then.”
John Masterson explained, “All these supercomputers are connected with geothermal energy stations very deep underground that are responsible for the control and management of the cooling system. The endless supply of thermal energy means that they were designed to work forever, but the whole management of these stations to which a human being can't reach is happening through computer programs. All commands are sent via satellite connections and, if this is no longer possible, the cooling systems will switch off automatically as a precaution.”
“Yes, but the one thing we are not sure about is what will happen to these supercomputers once this occurs,” Grossmayer joined in.
“According to Fabio's research, it will take no longer then twelve hours for all the machines to overheat, and what will follow is an automatic shutdown of the entire system,” Carolina said.
“This should destroy all massifs of data collected then,” Masterson said.
“Not exactly.” Fukuzawa was quick to stem his excitement. “All archives will remain intact in the hard memories of the computers, but to reboot them, a huge amount of energy will be needed. This will be practically impossible without the help of satellites to redirect power from different sources. I'd say it will take at least eight years before such a thing is even possible, if our plan is successful.”