Next up were pictures of classified UN Intelligence records. Holmes narrated the relevant sections, which indicated that both the secretary-general and the head of the UN Intelligence Bureau had been behind attacks against UN citizens.
Someone in the crowd yelled, “The UN has lied to us all!”
Others murmured in agreement or denial.
Shinzo Watanabe wasn’t sure what to believe.
And then the man who claimed to be David Holmes reappeared. This time two women stood with him. One was light-skinned and blonde, the other was young and dark-skinned, with long black hair.
Watanabe couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen as this man from the past continued his message.
David Gatewood stood shoulder-to-shoulder with New Yorkers and tourists alike, all of them riveted to the screens above Times Square.
“Citizens of Earth,” said the man who looked just like David Holmes, “I want to introduce you to someone who is as responsible as I am for ensuring that we didn’t all go extinct nearly two hundred years ago. A woman whose reward for her service was to endure an attempted assassination by the government that leads you today.”
He gestured to the blonde woman next to him. “This is Margaret Hager, the last president of the United States, and the person who represented the United Nations during the time of the Exodus. I only wish she had been made secretary-general after the Exodus, as I’m confident the world would have been much better off.”
He then held out an arm toward the younger woman. “And this is Priya Radcliffe, a direct descendant of Burt and Neeta, two people who were also very much responsible for the very survival of our species. Priya, Margaret, thank you both for being with me here today.”
Holmes faced the camera once more. “I know I’ve shown you many things that you may find difficult to believe. Things you would rather not accept. Perhaps it would help if I showed you what your leadership is doing right... now.”
Holmes nodded to someone off screen, and the feed shifted to an entirely new location. The UN’s logo was on a wall in the background, and Secretary-General Natalya Poroshenko was in the foreground, screaming at several people working furiously at computer terminals.
“Get this off the air now or I’ll have all of you executed for treason,” Poroshenko yelled. “Now!”
Gatewood cringed as the crowd around him bristled and became hostile.
“Fry the bitch!”
“How did this happen?”
“Traitors!”
“We need to march on the UN!”
Holmes appeared on screen once again, looking somber. “I know that many of you still won’t believe what I’m telling you. For those of you, I ask you to do just one thing for me. Look up into the sky.”
Gatewood, along with everyone else in Times Square, looked up—and gasped.
A glowing ball hovered in the night sky, growing larger and larger, brighter and brighter, nearly turning night into day.
“People of Earth, what you see above you is Chrysalis. Please welcome the colony as a temporary neighbor. I brought them to you to make a point. For too long, the people of the Chrysalis colony have been segregated from the people on Earth, and vice versa. But we are one people. Always remember that.”
“Holy crap,” someone shouted. “This is real!”
“Hager for Secretary-General!” shouted another.
“We need to wipe the UN out of existence!”
Holmes continued. “Many of you might be thinking, ‘Now what?’ I understand how easy it is to let things just evolve on their own. It’s easy to maintain the status quo and not make waves. I’m guilty of it myself. But like Ronald Reagan said oh so many years ago, the only way our children can inherit the freedom I personally have known is if we fight for it and protect it. My generation failed you. We didn’t do what we should have done. Margaret and I and others should have fought harder for you all. But with these final words, I’ll try to begin the fight that should have happened over one hundred and fifty years ago.”
The video went split-screen, showing two buildings. Gatewood recognized them both. One was the UN Executive Building, where the secretary-general worked. The other was on 66th, the headquarters of the UNIB.
And from up in the sky, two fiery streaks came down toward Earth. When they struck, both sides of the split-screen flashed white. The ground shook, and booms reverberated across the city.
Then the videos adjusted for the brightness, revealing that both of the buildings had been destroyed.
“Holy shit,” someone yelled. “David Holmes just blew them to smithereens.”
The crowd cheered.
The video switched back to David Holmes, Margaret Hager, and Priya Radcliffe.
“People of Earth. You’ve just now lost your secretary-general and the head of the intelligence agency. They were corrupt beyond comprehension. And now… you are free.
“But remember: freedom is what you make of it. I hope you make the right decisions. In the meantime,” he smiled at the two women next to him, “we’ll be here to support you.”
Author’s Note
Well, that’s the end of Freedom’s Last Gasp, and I sincerely hope you enjoyed it.
* * *
I should note that when I finished writing the first book in this series, Primordial Threat, I didn’t intend to have a follow-on.
Hear me out on this… I know I left an epilogue that strongly hinted at what could happen when humanity finally found a new home. At the time, I’d really debated with myself about whether to include that epilogue or not. I didn’t want to write a scene that promised the beginning of a new story. I wanted to show Dave Holmes and others settling into their new reality, but with just a taste of what they’d encountered as a neat little bow on the story.
And maybe with that choice, I set myself up for the inevitable. Because in my mind, I didn’t have plans to follow-up with a sequel. I thought the story in PT was tied up fairly nicely. The world had been saved, not everyone survived, and some people who we were sure were dead, ended up not being dead. It was a good end to a somewhat epic tale.
And then people began reading it. Awesome!
It landed on the USA Today bestseller’s list soon after its publication. Shocking!
And I might note, that if I weren’t as stubborn as I was, that book, nor its sequel would have come into being. Almost every publisher eventually turned PT down. However, there was one major publishing house, who shall remain nameless, that did consider purchasing the rights. But they asked for the main character to comply with a trend called OwnVoices.
At the time, I’d never heard of it, but simply put, the premise behind OwnVoices is that writers of a certain demographic should be allowed to tell the tales for that demographic.
Seemed reasonable, until I learned that the acquiring editor didn’t believe they’d be able to get an approval for me writing PT. Why? Well, PT’s main character was black, and I’m a first-born American of Israeli descent, and decidedly not black.
Evidently, David Holmes needed a race change, which I refused, and soon after I ended up self-publishing it. [I’d note that this is the first time I’m admitting this in “public” and primarily doing so as a middle finger to the establishment that wants to segregate authors into a specific lane. We have a diverse and beautiful society, and we should all be able to write who and what we want, with respect, and impunity.]
Well, I literally got 100’s of emails asking when the follow-on to PT would come out. Each and every time, I backpedaled and said that I didn’t have a schedule for it yet, but if readers demanded it, it would come.
Well, the readers spoke, and I responded. I hope you enjoyed it.
And I’m sure you’ll be asking, if there’s no epilogue in this novel, does that mean you have no plans for a follow-on?
Sigh…
I’ll say what I always say: if the readership demands it, there’s more that will be told. That is my way of hinting that if you enjoyed this
story, tell your friends, create the demand organically.
As to there being more to be told, let’s be realistic, there’s a lot left to account for, isn’t there?
Did Earth fix their governmental issues?
What happened with the mining colony and Dave Holmes, Margaret Hager, and now Priya? There’s so many things those three are quite capable of doing as major roles for major plotlines, don’t you think?
What about the spaceship Earth was building, but was short on resources that came from the colony? You didn’t actually think I forgot about that, did you? Why is that metal only found on the colony?
Is it a coincidence that level twelve has the same climate as the surface of Epsilon, or am I just noting it to distract you?
So, book three is currently not on my schedule, but readers ultimately influence what I write and in what priority. If many people are being introduced to this new Exodus Series, and the demand is high, trust me: I have many ideas already in place for where this will go.
Well, that’s enough about this story at the moment, I usually leave the addendum for where I talk extensively about the current novel, the technology and what’s real and not real.
In my Author’s Note section, I talk to you directly about what I do, who I am, and why I do it, so let me say a few brief words.
Since this is book two of a series, I’ll presume that I’ve introduced myself to you before and won’t make you suffer through that sort of tedium again.
However, I did want to talk a bit about my contract with you, the reader.
I write to entertain.
That truly is my first and primary goal. Because, for most people, that’s what readers typically want out of a novel.
That’s certainly what I always wanted. Story first, always.
Now, don’t get me wrong, there are all sorts of perfectly valid reasons to be reading, and in fact, I get a huge kick out of it when people tell me that they kept on having to look things up to see if they were real, and being shocked to learn that many elements in my stories are real.
For me, I take pride in trying to give people entertainment, while attempting to stay as true to science and technology as possible. And if the novel is inspired by real events in some way, I try to provide verifiable excerpts that allow readers a bit more insight into the facts of the subjects covered in the story.
When my stories contain topics that have possible controversy or ones with potentially polarizing opinions associated with them (e.g. GMO) I never take a position as the author. However, I don’t ignore the fact that there is controversy. I let the characters play out their roles and make no advocacies. However, I do endeavor to lay out the facts as they exist for the reader to ultimately draw their own conclusions.
So far, I’ve covered broken arrow incidents (See Perimeter for that), child sex trafficking (The Inside Man), and the dark side of medical research (Darwin’s Cipher.)
Some have called my choices eclectic, unexpected, but the vast majority of feedback I’ve received to date has thankfully been positive. So, thank you for that. Posting reviews is, of course, the easiest way to let me and others know what you thought of this novel or any of my work. Word of mouth is precious to us poor authors.
However, even though I enjoy writing about events, history, science especially, my primary goal always circles back to entertaining.
As always, at the end of this book, I have an addendum where I cover certain details regarding the creation of this novel, the research that went into it, and of course, I go into the science and technology—mostly because I can’t help myself.
I do hope you enjoyed this story, and I hope you’ll continue to join me in the future stories yet to come.
* * *
Mike Rothman
March 20, 2020
* * *
If you enjoyed this story, I should take a moment to introduce you to another one of my titles that many of my science fiction readers have told me they enjoyed. It’s best described as a medical techno-thriller (in the style of Crichton), but it does involve the intelligence community, espionage, and many of the things that readers of thrillers tend to seek. And yes, I nerd out quite a bit on the technical aspects of genetics, science research, and the realities of what can occur, thus bringing in science to what otherwise might be a simple thriller. This techno-thriller is called, Darwin’s Cipher.
* * *
If you’ll indulge me, below is a brief description of Darwin’s Cipher:
* * *
Juan Gutierrez, a cancer researcher, has spent years studying the genome of animals that exhibit immunity to some types of cancer. Over the course of his study, Juan discovers a pattern that allows him to predict the course of a species' evolution across thousands of generations.
* * *
Using the algorithm he's developed from the pattern, Juan uncovers what he believes to be the key to conquering humanity's susceptibility to cancer.
* * *
Others are interested in using what Juan has dubbed "Darwin's Cipher," however, instead of cancer research, they see very different applications for the new genetic algorithm.
* * *
Nate Carrington, an FBI forensic analyst has been struggling with several cold cases when he’s alerted to an incident at a nearby ranch. It’s a case of a newborn calf who is found in the middle of a herd of dead cattle. It provides a single link to Nate's other cold cases: the DNA analysis of the calf doesn't match anything in the FBI's database.
* * *
Somewhere in a rural hospital in West Virginia, four hospital workers are dead and a newborn child has been transported to the NIH's level-4 bio-containment unit.
* * *
It's only when the NIH sends out an alert to all hospitals and law enforcement agencies that the world realizes the danger that faces them.
Preview of Darwin’s Cipher
Jon LaForce scrambled down the steep path leading into Tikaboo Valley and took a swig from the cheap red wine he’d bought from a nearby gas station. Almost immediately a flush crept up his neck and warmed his cheeks.
He’d just been fired for the second time this month.
He wasn’t sure what had brought him out into the middle of nowhere in southeastern Nevada. When he was a kid, his friends used to talk about coming out here to spy on the military planes as they took off and landed. They used to whisper about secret experiments, mysterious clouds in the sky, and of course, UFOs. After all, this was supposed to be where they kept those aliens. Area 51.
Jon didn’t believe any of that crap, and he doubted any of his friends had ever had the guts to actually sneak onto the grounds or even come out this way. And as he looked around, he had to admit they weren’t missing much. Just acres of thick desert sagebrush.
Taking another swig from his bottle, Jon felt the buzz from the alcohol as he scrambled down the slope. Suddenly, something broke through the thick sagebrush at the bottom of the hill. Jon drew his Glock from its holster and took a shooter’s stance. Bobcats sometimes prowled this area.
But it was just a stray dog. Dark brown coat, long tail, floppy ears—might be a chocolate lab.
Jon holstered his gun and whistled. “Hey, boy, what are you doing out here?”
The dog wagged its tail furiously and bounded toward him.
He screwed the top back on the wine bottle and held his hand out for the dog to sniff. As the animal huffed at his hand and ran its nose up and down the legs of his trousers, Jon noticed a bloody wound on its front right leg.
“Did something take a bite out of you, old boy?”
The dog whined and glanced back toward the scrub.
Jon scratched the dog’s head. “Your coat’s nice and shiny, and you look well fed.” He shook his head and patted the dog on its back. “What are you doing out here? Someone’s probably looking for you. Maybe I should get you to a shelter and see if they can find your owner. I sure as hell can’t take care of you. I can barely take care of myself nowadays.”
A rustle of movement sounded in the sagebrush about fifty yards away. The dog whined, took a few steps up the slope, and turned to Jon as if to say, “Are you coming?”
Jon drew the Glock once more and took a step toward the sound.
The lab darted in front of him and gave a low growl.
“Shh…” Jon stepped around the dog.
The dog whined, nipped at his pant leg and pulled hard on his jeans, trying to drag him up the slope, away from the sound.
“What the hell are you doing, mutt?” Jon yanked his leg away and gave the dog a sideways kick, which it easily dodged.
The dog backed away, whining, then yipped once and raced up the hill.
At the base of the slope, two dark animals burst through the sagebrush. Two more dogs, both nearly identical in appearance to the chocolate lab.
But very different in demeanor.
These dogs had neither wagging tails nor lolling tongues. They eyed Jon menacingly, lowered their heads, and stalked closer.
Jon aimed his gun and called out in a friendly tone, “Hey, boys, are you missing a friend of yours?”
As soon as he trained the Glock on the animals, they split, one going to his left, the other to his right.
His heart thudding, Jon aimed at the dog on his right. The animal immediately darted behind a boulder.
It was almost as if the animal knew the gun was dangerous.
Hearing the other dog’s nails scraping on the gravel, Jon wheeled around and fired a warning shot.
The animal continued to advance, but it used a jerky zigzag pattern, making it difficult to aim.
A chill raced up Jon’s spine.
His gun arm shaking, Jon focused on the approaching dog. For a split second his mind flashed back to his time as an artilleryman in Afghanistan. Back then, he’d shot at enemies he could barely see. Now, for the first time in his life, he was within spitting distance of his target as he squeezed the trigger.
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