The Pathfinder Trilogy

by Todd Stockert

  So something was definitely going to happen, and it was going to happen soon.

  Less than six months after the initial nuclear bombardment, Valiana was already regretting what she and her line of clones helped the Brotherhood achieve. Once the gateways from the Proteus galaxy opened up and the vast majority of survivors understandably chose to flee to sanctuary, she secretly began to loathe the Brotherhood she had sworn her loyalty to and everything it stood for. Primarily this was true because nothing they had predicted would occur actually ended up taking place. The primary nuclear attack on the United States and its allies came primarily from smaller nations, especially the Mid-Eastern countries whose oil revenue was only a fraction of what it once was. They were the easiest to manipulate, although factions in China, India and even several former members of the Soviet Union swiftly joined in. The carefully planned attack was designed to totally annihilate the one key nation capable of rallying a resistance movement – in order for the plan to succeed, the United States of America had to be completely devastated and unlivable.

  The prevailing wisdom – based primarily on Valiana’s own intelligence data since her clones were the Caucasian infiltrators – was to rely on America’s hesitancy to destroy life. For almost two hundred years the United States always chose conventional arms over nuclear, leading the Brotherhood to believe that any nuclear response against an all-out attack would initially be limited. By the time the leaders in Washington D.C. realized the attack was global, most of its known nuclear missile sites would supposedly be destroyed and out of commission. And for a brief time it appeared as though they would succeed. The Brotherhood was initially satisfied, during the first few hours of that attack, with the leaders of the Triumvirate smiling and nodding happily as everything proceeded according to plan.

  Then American warheads from orbit had begun to plunge down from above, targeting virtually every site that had launched attacks against them. There weren’t supposed to be any up in space, it was against every treaty in the book. And yet the United States had been ready for such an eventuality for reasons that became immediately obvious. Chinese and Russian missiles also began to descend from orbit, in a fruitless effort to attack the allies of America. Those nations were supposed to have remained neutral, with the historical N.A.T.O. treaty now a distant memory. But America’s friends stood by her, and suddenly the European and Asian continents – areas that the Brotherhood possessed future plans to rule over – suddenly became lit up with nuclear fire similar to what the United States was enduring. Less than a day later, the conflict escalated further, with the smaller nations finally choosing sides and launching multi-pronged attacks of their own.

  Most of the countries did so because they wanted to use their weapons before losing them. With a vast array of military bases and compounds already destroyed in a relentless nuclear annihilation, the leaders of those in the surviving smaller nations knew instinctively that their turn was coming. So they began invading Russia, China, India and even Pakistan. That was when American aircraft carriers and submarines began launching their missiles, effectively devastating the Middle East, what remained of Russia and China, and completely eliminating most of the oil-rich territory still heavily relied upon by nations not as advanced as the Western countries. It didn’t take long – less than a week in fact – before the nuclear fire burned everywhere on the globe except for Antarctica. Australia was one of America’s greatest allies during those first few days, and the proverbial ‘land down under’ paid a terrible price for that loyalty.

  Earth became almost unlivable, with at least three fourths of its ten billion inhabitants incinerated during the nuclear attack. By any measure possible, what was supposed to be a limited, controlled nuclear devastation of the United States and its key allies escalated very quickly into an all-out third World War. A month after the first bombs fell, no one anywhere on the planet could see the sun. A year later, those who survived were almost totally reliant on anti-radiation medicines that were manufactured by the Brotherhood or transported to Earth from the Proteus galaxy. Ruling over the survivors would prove to be significantly tougher than anticipated, and then the task became even more difficult when more than HALF of the Earth’s surviving population promptly, understandably chose to make use of the Proteus gateways and escape to a distant, alien sanctuary on another world. Worse, they took the children who would populate the next series of generations with them.

  What used to be the United Kingdom and Western Europe was pretty much all that was left to govern. Less than a dozen nations in Central and South America were spared the total bombardment… the amount of usable land on the planet Earth shrank down to less than ten percent of what had once been the most fruitful, prosperous planet in the galaxy. Surviving humans were provided access to needed medical treatment, but the oceans and rivers were polluted with radiation too. Plants, animals and most of the sea-faring species died off almost completely… edible food supplies were even scarcer than land. Fresh water instantly became the most precious commodity on the planet – those who possessed it hoarded the precious resource or traded away their scant extras in exchange for significant supplies of food, medication and sometimes ammunition.

  In occasional, brief spurts, the war – and resistance to the Brotherhood leadership – inexplicably continued.

  Drik Gyilto, the ruler of the once small nation of Ghuitan, expected his country to be spared. After the war, he planned to turn his tiny country into the center of all economic activity on Earth. Gyilto was planning to be rich, a willing proxy to the Brotherhood’s Triumvirate, and in exchange he gave them sanctuary within his borders and allowed them to build their huge, secret underground control center. In the end, someone had rained nuclear bombs down on Ghuitan too – few left alive knew specifically who it was that decided to target them and virtually no one cared to investigate the matter. From coast to coast, in every populated continent on Earth, there was nothing left of the planet’s once beautiful lands except for craters, dying or struggling ecosystems, and a thick, polluted atmosphere that was barely breathable.

  And yet almost HALF of the men who were left alive refused to leave, even when given a better, viable option.

  Most of those surviving men sent their families through the portals, allowing them to move on with their lives and begin to build an actual future for themselves. They stayed behind primarily to make certain that the Brotherhood knew – even though it promptly installed itself as the new, governing global body – that the clone army and its leaders remained a mere fraction of the population. The danger from the Proteus aliens was manageable; it was patently clear that they were hesitant to interfere and were limiting their actions solely to offering sanctuary and medical assistance. The only threat they posed arose in the form of counterstrikes if the Brotherhood forces chose to engage them. The more immediate danger was the angered men who remained behind, the very people that the Brotherhood now relied upon to build new farms and industries.

  Unfortunately, uncontaminated, precious resources were even more difficult to locate than when multiple countries once competed for them. In trying to build up a newer, more perfect utopia, the Triumvirate first underestimated the lengths the leaders of the old world would go in order to protect themselves. Then they found themselves with the unenviable task of trying to lead an extremely angered work force – people that were no doubt passing messages about everything the Brotherhood did back through the transit portals to Earth’s former, surviving leaders now dwelling comfortably in the Proteus galaxy. The scars from the Brotherhood’s war were visible everywhere one went on the planet, with the sole exception its poles. Once great cities were now reduced primarily to ash and soot, water sources dried up or devastated, and the atmosphere contaminated. Everywhere Valiana went, the cremated towns and cities were clearly visible and the air foul. Everything smelled like ashes and death, with the once beautiful blue skies above them now a filthy shade of orange.

  The sharp grinding of a boot
on stone snapped Valiana back to full alertness.

  Surprisingly, Hobak 001 was also out walking near the center of the outer wall, just to the eastern side of the main gate. The second member of the Brotherhood’s ruling Triumvirate almost never came above ground any more – he usually remained hidden in his personal chambers, coming out only for private meetings with Valiana and Durgon, the third member of their ruling Council. He appeared to be studying the western horizon, where a sun descending toward dusk had painted the fouled atmosphere an ominous bloody orange. Black leather robes flowed around him, almost completely concealing the dark leather boots he wore on his feet. He stirred a bit as she moved in behind him, but did not immediately acknowledge her. Instead, he stood watching the setting sun, his thoughts – at least for the moment – completely private.

  “Something is going on, isn’t it?” Valiana asked him finally, studying his Asian features closely. “That’s why you’re up here.” Although slight of height and build, Hobak’s body was almost solid muscle. When they first began working together, Valiana had not considered him to be a cruel man. That first impression of him had changed in recent years.

  A lot.

  “I sent Durgon 001 to Havana,” he told her after a prolonged pause.

  The meaning of his words sank in rather quickly. “Why?” she demanded to know almost instantly, her long dark hair floating around her shoulders in the soft evening breeze. Even so, the air smelled like hot metal. “You know full well that he sympathizes with the normals, and that’s where most of the American rebels are meeting with their European friends.”

  “That’s right,” said Hobak with a dark laugh. “The Americans are there, along with their allies and a mentally unbalanced Durgon who is no longer of use to us. If everything went as planned, the nuclear missiles that I targeted there will all have detonated by now.” He brought his hands together and then flung them apart. “Poof! No more resistance movement, and no more emotionally challenged Durgon.”

  Valiana didn’t realize at first whether his words shocked her more than the actual meaning behind them. “What would possibly make you think that was a good idea?” she hissed angrily. “Durgon is a founding member of the Triumvirate and our equal…”

  “He was,” admitted Hobak with a sharp grin. “But he never quite recovered from the hallucinogenic pathogen that the Proteus normals laid on us.” Thinking back to the time less than a year after the nuclear war, when a mysterious probe containing the alien bug had crashed on Earth, the Asian clone laughed again. “Oh we came up with ways to treat it and nullify its harshest symptoms, but it was too late for Durgon. The man endlessly suffered from non-stop nightmares ever since, about ‘the evil one’, the ‘Prince of Darkness’ rising up from the depths of hell to steal his soul. I have simply delivered him to his final resting place.”

  She launched herself unexpectedly at him, pounding on his chest repeatedly with her fists. “Durgon legitimately feels guilty about what we have done!” she exclaimed heatedly, allowing years of repressed anger to rise fully to the surface of her emotions. “You don’t have the right to execute him unilaterally… he deserves the same respect that you and I have for each other.” Most of her last statement was a lie, but she said it anyway. Words of that nature preserved the last thread of loyalty linking Hobak to her, and for now she genuinely needed it.

  Hobak caught her hands by the wrist and blunted the worst of her attack. Glancing down at his wristwatch, he smiled malevolently at her. “Durgon deserved our respect,” he stated approvingly, correcting her use of tense. “By now he is only a memory and you and I now share a fledgling partnership. The Triumvirate is broken.”

  Valiana turned into a virtual hell cat in response, and yet somehow Hobak was able to fight off even the harshest of her blows. Of the three of them, he was clearly the most skilled at hand-to-hand combat. “You conniving, manipulative bastard!” she screamed at him, spittle flying from her lips. “You had absolutely no right to do that without consulting me first, and you know how I feel about the use of nuclear weapons.” Her physical attacks against him were proving futile, so she retreated several steps. “Each time we detonate one of those… those things…” she glared at him with undisguised hatred. “Every time we use one this planet dies just a little bit more! And in case you haven’t checked lately, there isn’t a whole hell of a lot of it left for us to lose!”

  It seemed the deed was done. Cuba, only hours ago one of the few remaining places habitable enough to visit in the west, was now lost to them as well. It had been one of the few island nations still capable of growing food year round, but Hobak had chosen to unilaterally act and reduce it to mere ashes as well. More radiation, Valiana seethed silently as she looked at the scarlet-hued horizon. The setting sun was a blood red orb barely visible through the filthy, dark clouds of pollution.

  More death. More pollution pouring into the ground and up into the precious atmosphere.

  This latest ‘deal’ wasn’t proving to be a partnership so far – it was more of a dictatorship. And if she wasn’t careful, then Hobak’s recent actions were an obvious signal that her time as a valued member of his ‘governing body’ was also growing short. To be fair, time was running out for everybody, not just her.

  The Earth was dying. Less than six hundred million people remained alive on the planet.

  “Nothing puts down a resistance faster than the sight of blooming mushroom clouds framed against the horizon,” Hobak muttered sullenly. “It won’t take long… word will spread among the other normals.”

  “No, your solutions don’t end resistance, they simply postpone it,” countered Valiana indignantly. She fought hard to refrain from attempting to pound on him again. “You rule like the Roman Emperors once did, except without the prolonged periods of prosperity. Mark my words! Resistance may indeed fade for a few years, but all you did today was make everyone even more determined to oppose us!”

  Hobak folded his arms imperiously and studied her intently. “Other than this most recent action, you have signed onto everything that the Triumvirate has done,” he reminded her brusquely. “Now you begin to second guess yourself… when we are so close to defeating what remains of our enemy?”

  “In case you didn’t notice, we are close to defeating what remains of all life on this planet,” snarled Valiana sullenly. “Of course I have second thoughts! I will never be so vain or consider myself so enlightened that I cannot admit that past decisions were flawed.” She looked out over the top of the wall, at the scorched terrain surrounding them and shook her head with disgust. “We started out with the flawed belief that we were so enhanced, that we had grown so intelligent, that we could accurately predict the behavior of eight billion flawed, emotional beings. Fifteen years ago, we guessed wrong and started a snowball rolling downhill that rapidly became unstoppable. And those consequences of our actions have been dictating our future actions ever since. It’s time to stop making stupid decisions simply because we once made stupid decisions. I don’t know how to do that yet, but I’m going to find a way.”

  She didn’t expect him to laugh derisively at her, but he did. “If you believe that life here has grown so difficult and so troublesome, then you are welcome to join everyone else who evacuated the Earth and moved to the Proteus galaxy,” Hobak retorted sharply. “I believe you will even find at least several Durgons over there, waiting for you.”

  Then he turned and left her standing there, looking out upon a devastated world.

  Planet Earth, south of Bethany, approximately A.D. 27

  After a difficult night of intermittent dozing, Thomas Roh lazily opened one eye and stared at the first rays of sunlight poking through rotting boards on the east wall of a very dilapidated barn. It wasn’t even large enough to be a barn of the traditional sort, but more like a small, filthy shack filled with clucking chickens. Although it was not yet 5 a.m. in the morning, there was a pervasive heat surrounding them that clearly advertised the middle of the summer season. The
sounds from the chickens made it difficult to sleep, but the bleating of goats from outside had made slumber all but impossible. Thanks to the kindness of a rural farmer, the Rohs had been able to seek refuge for the night in a private place where the light from their equipment would not be noticed. After hours of program changes, Thomas sent a brief message to the future letting their friends know where they were. Then he had worked until his eyes grew weary from fatigue before catching a few hours’ sleep.

  The smell of the place was terrible, which was understandable given the rotting hay and enormous amount of animal feces present in the dingy shelter. Rolling into a sitting position, Thomas reopened the laptop and began working as fast as he could to continue making the additional program changes that would be needed in order to permanently reconnect them to the Lexington’s communications hub. Most of the source code was fine the way it was, but the parameters used by the software – which had previously been prepped for a brief two decade jaunt into the past – now had to be reset to cover the span of nearly two millennia. The task was monumental, since he hadn’t even begun, back home, to work on equations that could stretch that far.

  “You better wake up Adam,” he whispered softly, reaching out with the toe of his left boot and nudging the extra-large lump of humanity snoring loudly next to him. “I’d bet the roosters go off any minute now.”