Broken Mirror: Apophis 2029

by Michel Savage

  I followed the boy back to the terrarium where we found a jungle of plants of every species, growing in harmony, fed by an intricate system of bio filters into a lush botanical garden. Exploring the station further, there were scores of storage cells packed with untouched cargo, and medical labs equipped with dozens of containment modules. I walked with the boy by my side among the empty chambers and maze of corridors lined throughout the superstructure that left a haunted feeling as to its forgotten purpose. Touching my scalp, I noticed a trickle of blood and felt a persistent throbbing in my head that grew worse with every step.

  The Mirage was a massive station equipped with a vast array of solar collectors that could sustain a crew of hundreds, supplied for all of our top leadership and the privileged elite, all of whom would never step foot here. We returned to the control room where I began to feverishly search the data screens for a spare ship or evacuation pod; any form of transport to get the both of us back to the surface. In final submission, I realized there was none; Cypher had long since sabotaged them all in his previous efforts to purge the station.

  Isolated from all the others on the bridge, a bright red screen demanded my attention and was drawn towards it while the little boy took a seat in a console chair next to me, quietly examined the tiny flower he had plucked from the stations greenhouse.

  The blinking screen ceased when I finally placed my hand on the trimmed console and its image widened to reveal that the MN4 viral package delivered from the shuttle had been assimilated into the system. It then occurred to me that this station wasn't just an asylum for the top brass, but had been developed with a bioweapon delivery system for warfare. Mirage had not been created for mere survival for the best minds of our race, but as a disgraceful defense system they could use to intimidate countries or as a preemptive strike against any nation that failed to comply with their wishes. Privileged with this power, they could enact global control far out of reach where nobody could ever touch them.

  As a safeguard, Cypher had evidently programmed a two hour timer to be initiated after infusion of the of the purified KRI pathogen into the bio defense systems. He had planned to run this place alone, to act as God over the decaying world spinning below him. The consoles themselves were unhindered in their function; for it didn't recognize that there were actually no Generals here, no Scientists or pompous bureaucrats, nor Government Officials to run amuck in this flying ivory tower ...there was just me at the controls.

  Looking at the timer, there was now less than twenty minutes left on the countdown before it locked the system, the screen requesting a code to abort the sequence; unfortunately, it was a code that only Cypher knew. All that was left was to choose between a full counterforce strike, or a full system purge of the purified strain of the deadly alien pathogen. It was a slight alteration of the original program protocols Cypher had initiated when he had finally taken control of the stations systems.

  I was mildly surprised when the little boy stepped over and pointed to one of the two tabs, as if to prompt my choice. He gazed out at the Earth below us and turned to look up at me with his soft eyes, for they were strangely delicate yet blooming with a sense of empathy to twist the conflicting emotions now swirling within me, as if he was providing approval and consent to the difficulty of the decision I had to make, now wavering under my hands.

  A blue light lit the room as all systems suspended while a cylindrical pod jettisoned from the center of the station and fired towards the cloud-filled planet below. A strange calm fell over me as I looked down at my hand, neither in wonder nor surprise, only accepting the actions my subconscious had taken without further thought. The look in the little boys eyes said everything, and I realized the child had persuaded me to do what I already knew should be done. Instead of purging the virus and destroying it, I had commenced a global strike.

  Curiously, I felt no remorse as some might assume. Nor did I use every last second on the clock to weigh the fate of mankind as one might expect. There was no need to prolong the discomfort and contemplation any other person might take to question my actions. Most people would defend mankind and all its accomplishments the millennia's; our arts and science, music and poetry, the fantastic and incredible inventions our race has created, things of beauty and love; and yet I had ended it all without hesitation ...realizing that my decision as to the fate of the world had already been made long, long ago.

  The payload of the missile deployed mere moments before it touched the atmosphere. I watched with cold resolution as countless hundreds of cluster rockets detached and guided for impact in every major city across the globe. The modified super virus would spread unchecked, infecting every species of mammal with the toxic germ; there was little chance that anyone would survive the new pandemic that would follow in its wake, creating enhanced raging mutations that would ravage the planet and reset the ecosystem after human race itself had been erased from the world.

  Mankind had proven itself a dangerous and unpredictable species, and had chosen its fate long ago; it was only our technology and ability to advance to this point in history that we finally caught up with our own self-persecution.

  I felt tired and numb, not thinking about myself; though I could feel warm blood trickle from the deep concussion to my head, which I had suffered during launch. I no longer had the luxury of time to think about the nameless child who sat quietly beside me in his innocence nor how he might survive here alone after I was gone. I slumped down on the floor of the bridge feeling drained and sleepy and though my head was throbbing, I felt a twinge pull at my heart like a distant ache as I thought about Thorn, and what might have been.

  As I closed my eyes a final time, I considered the lives of countless survivors who had struggled and sacrificed so much of themselves, just to live another minute or another day these past long years since the catastrophic event which had cracked and splintered our most fanciful and egotistical dream of civilization. That time had passed, and through the eyes of a child, we had offered a gentle mercy. Like a broken mirror, we had been cursed these past seven years as the Earth was cleansed of our taint.

  It was time for the human race to stop sifting through the splintered shards in such bitter desperation, to only find fractured reflections of ourselves, and our lost souls; and would finally accept that the dream of what mankind might have been was forever shattered, and could never truly be whole again.

  Afterword

  The timeframe of this story is based in circa 2036, and though only 20 years into the future of this publication; I doubt I will live to see its term come to pass, as my life will likely end as a victim of government reprisal. The actual MN4 asteroid event forecast in 2029 is a rare, once every 800 year occurrence; though it is the probable and unforeseen circumstances that gives such a colorful twist to this tale. The sobering reality is that we live in a world that is vulnerable to cataclysm in many forms at so many unpredictable scales; yet our civilization still endures, though mostly out of blissful ignorance.

  The human race has climbed to a level of technology where we can harness the limitless energy of the sun, the global wind and geothermal power to meet all our needs and beyond, yet our species still wastes an unwarranted amount of capital on trivial wars over foolish and phantom beliefs, antiquated borders and nonrenewable resources. Each day, human kind itself destroys far more that it has ever created. Ironic as it is that we claim to possess the intelligence to create such wonders, but lack even the most subtle measure of sensibilities when wielding such power over nature; and that we instead choose to abuse such misguided potential against our fellow man for nothing more than pettiness and personal gain.

  Needless resource wars are all too easily wielded as an excuse by shrouded governments that act through failed policies, who are in turn funded by crooked corporations with their own secret agendas. Such entities are all too eager to manipulate the populace through repeated patterns of misinformation as to the true context of their treachery, and will always enforce a d
octrine to treat citizens as if they were government property.

  Though asteroid Apophis is bound to arrive, I wonder if by 2029 that our societies might ultimately crumble into the shadow of martial law as foretold within, where people are scared and intimidated in the name of lawful compliance. It would also be interesting to conclude if RFID implants might someday become commonplace only to have our every word and movement recorded and tracked under an umbrella of constant surveillance. Some may believe that it is a work of fiction that our global internet and media is manipulated and censored, where free communications are restrained and could be suspended in a time of crises by a secret kill switch. Some may also regard this as a tale of conspiracy when government entities overplay their hand only to invade and occupy foreign countries on unsupported whims, and their fleeced citizens are routinely force-fed justifications for such immoral behavior and blind misconduct under the false disguise of their own security.

  When might a story foretell an age in the far future when people would be imprisoned and tortured without charges; or a culling of the masses on nothing but fabricated allegations and corralled into prison camps and forced labor where food, medicine and the most basic of freedoms are used as leverage against them. It would be a vibrant yarn that spins tales of Government forces resorting to covert military operations as a means to an end, or exploits finance branches that spread malware and forge encrypted trenches to commit currency racketeering aimed to cripple economies. This novel may be nothing more than a rich fable of Legal Authorities who stoop so disgracefully low and conspire together to promote their own continued existence and bloated budgets by inventing scenarios of scandal and conflict merely to unleash their own dark design, while it is the protected who eventually become the prey.

  If we should ever find ourselves in such a microcosm as theses extraordinary circumstances and fictional characters within, where the world we once knew collapses and becomes blurred by relentless oppression that creates anarchy and civil unrest; a final question must be asked. Who among us will refuse to obey mindless commands from ruthless tyrants who compel us to commit atrocities against one another? If ever the day should come, who among the waking world would take a stand for what is right while they pick through what splintered shards are left of our shattered world in hopes of finding an honest reflection of themselves, and dedicate their time to a deeper philosophy from that moment forward; that there is a better way for us to live and coexist, and to share this world together.

  About the Author

  Michel Savage has written & illustrated several short fictions in addition to his other novels, and kept up his interest in writing through his careers as a fantasy artist and various projects for major movie studios. Sci-fi literature & fantasy artwork has always been a favorite subject, and suggests that when he’s not busy dodging the bullets of international criminals and saving the world… you can usually find him either painting, or curled up with a book and a healthy supply of chocolate.

  … Always the dreamer.

  Enter the Grey Forest

  www.GreyForest.com

  World of the Elvenborn

  The Faerylands Fantasy Art Series

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  www. Faerylands .com