by Lee Kerr
Larry tries to block her out, to refuse to listen to the obvious ending that she has already painted for them all, one that he freely accepted just hours before. He thinks back to his science lessons, to what he learnt about the human race and its climb to the top of the food chain, making it the reigning species on this planet. ‘We can rebuild. It might take hundreds of years, but we can do it, if we just preserve enough of our people to start again.’
‘Leave us,’ she says to everyone, as she releases her grip on him but still keeps her narrowed eyes on him, as if she’s ready for this debate on the fate of the world that no one can really win.
Everyone quickly obeys her and walks away, even the general, who gives Larry one small nod that silently tells him this simply isn’t his fight.
She steps in front of Larry and kneels down, her movements slow and pronounced, like she needs to know he is giving her his all. ‘Do you think this is the first time we have met these beings? And do you think we called them lurkers last time they attacked us?’
He shakes his head. ‘You’re saying they have attacked us before?’
She nods back. ‘These creatures have been keeping us in check for centuries. The Mayans, the Egyptians, the Greeks and the Romans. Do you really think all of these great civilisations would just have fallen to pieces of their own accord? Do you really think they could all just suddenly turn to dust, and not one of them would endure?’
Larry looks into her blazing eyes. ‘No one alive truly knows what happened to them.’
‘But you know something happened, don’t you? You know that they existed and that some of their secrets still survive today, like the depths of the pyramids, the predictions of the Mayans and the wisdom of the Greeks. These creatures who attack us are our greatest conscience, our biggest enemy and the strongest opponent to our collective progress. They come out every 10,000 years or so to keep us in check, pushing humanity back into the darkness for more generations than we could ever count, burying our precious past with the dust of our ancestors from countless millennia.’
‘You’re saying all this was planned?’
She nods. ‘Knowledge is power, Mr. President, and so much of the past has been kept from the public. People only ever believe what they are told and trust me when I say that planet earth is coated with more millennia of dust than you could ever conceive. Sure, you are allowed to know that Stonehenge exists, allowed to walk the Great Wall of China. But why do you think they built that wall in the first place, and how did they ever get those stones in place if they weren’t half as capable as we are? The clues are everywhere but most people don’t see them as anything more than curiosities. There are many dead civilisations buried on top of even older ones, all were powerful and all were destroyed as easily by the lurkers.’
‘But why would they do this?’ Larry asks, desperate to know their purpose, unable to accept the simple storylines from the many movies that never really prepared anyone for this darkest milestone to face humanity.
‘Why not? And why should they bother to tell us? Do you tell a pig why it must die? Do you ever sit it down and explain that its death will serve a bigger purpose – that it will be chopped into something that will never again look like what is was when it lived, breathed and walked this planet?’
He shakes his head, seeing these as very different things. ‘Humans have superior intelligence, whereas pigs don’t understand what is happening to them.’
‘How do you know that these things don’t see us as primitive as we see cattle? And do you really believe we are that intelligent, especially as individuals? I am part of a bigger group and we have been preparing for this while everyone goes about their daily business. Why else do you think we invented nuclear weapons, or travelled to the moon? On this next judgement of our entire planet, we will still lose but we are getting closer to defeating them.’
‘I have one question,’ Larry says, staring back at her. ‘So why aren’t we winning?’
She nods back and stands up, looking down at him with what Larry almost thinks is a glimmer of respect. ‘The survival of our race will always be a very long game. One day we will reach distant stars and spread far beyond this one small planet. Maybe they are here because they don’t believe we are ready, or perhaps they have always been here since the day that mankind lit its first fire, their only task being to keep us at bay, keep us small in such an endless and unknown universe.’
‘You think they hate us that much?’
‘Perhaps it’s their job to hate us, sent down here by whatever we believe to be our God, or maybe they fear us. Perhaps it’s easier for them to dominate the galaxy if they stop us from growing into what we could become. Maybe it’s their role to crush our progress every time we get close to a certain population size. Ten billion people ready to leave this planet and spread themselves across the universe could be a scary thought to other civilisations.’
Larry isn’t shaking his head anymore, isn’t interested in giving an opinion or an answer. He only wants to hear what Lopez clearly believes is right in every version of this world that she knows. ‘But what gives them the right?’
‘What gives you the right to crush a termite’s nest before it gets too big, too close to your home? They build such amazing things, working together to create underground labyrinths and stunning surface architecture; it’s especially incredible when you consider their size. But you still don’t want them to find your foundations and let these little creatures destroy all that you have built, and so you pour boiling water into the mound, put chemicals down there until they are no more, and then you think nothing of it until the next year.’
‘You’re not seriously comparing the human race to cattle and insects?’
She leans closer, her face nothing but serious. ‘You think that we’re better just because we evolved first? Do you really think that every other species on this planet was put here just to service our needs? We are being exterminated now, just as we exterminate pests and anything else that gets in the way of our stability or progress.’
He slumps downwards, his whole body aching, his mind exhausted by all he is being forced to endure. He is getting so many answers to a question he never wanted to ask in the first place. ‘And you’re saying we will be defeated again, just like before?’
‘I told you, it’s a long game. Some of us will survive: they don’t seem to want to enslave us, or even eat us, but they do seem to want us to forget. And so we will forget for now, as our billions of bodies fertilise and re-energise the soil around the world. Although, I know that this time will be different. This time we have the power to damage them as much as they hurt us. We will leave even better clues and we will make sure that in our next life we will grow back before they do. We will help those who forget to somehow remember, not just what happened but to look to the stars for escape. You have a role to play, because you are our leader now and everything hangs in the balance of your limited wisdom. The Egyptians marched an army of millions to attack them, the Chinese built the biggest wall ever imagined, and now it is our turn to strike a blow at our mortal enemy.’
Larry looks away from her and down to it, to the new addition to his commanding chair. He saw it when he came back from the restrooms, after he was distracted by the update from the world map that showed how less than 20% of the planet remains untouched. That red button sits under a small layer of glass but it is no less imposing.
‘Those soldiers will fight upstairs for you to survive long enough to make the right decision; to do what must be done. Whilst men and women went about living, collecting the badges of holidays and houses, writing about love – despite most of us knowing little more than lust – some of us were doing more. Fate has now made you one of those people who will do more, whether you like it or not.’
He looks back at the button and wonders whether it will even work. Not just if it will actually do the job she claims it will, but if it will actually fire the many missiles needed.
She doesn
’t answer, doesn’t think to offer him any comfort. She leaves him now, going back to her calculations, quickly bringing more people into the fold as she demands that they prepare. There is no emotion left, no sad faces. He wonders if others around the world are doing the same, if there are even any world leaders left. He picks up a folder that sits next to the button. He finds it ironic that it’s titled ‘The Best Chances of Survival.’ He has already looked through, having participated in putting it together a few days ago. He shuffles through the paperwork at random, only stopping at the ideas that interest him the most. He sees a satellite image of Japan, the fortified walls they built around two of their main islands, which, as it turned out, wasn’t enough to help them survive.
He smiles at the British decision to sail their remaining fleet out to sea and create a sort of island in the Atlantic Ocean. Sure, it had some major drawbacks, because as the saying goes: ‘water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink.’ It was projected that they would be able to survive at sea for less than three months before extreme lack of supplies forced them back to land and to the waiting enemy. It turned out to be a lot less when they found the lurkers were very good swimmers and didn’t have any intention of waiting that long.
He turns to the last page, to an intelligence report from the Caribbean islands, about an ingenious plan to launch a large platform thousands of feet into the air. The intelligence officer gave it a 50% chance of working which, when compared to the other options, was actually quite high. He looks at the name of the officer and thinks about trying to find him, but since they will have been based at Langley, which was destroyed days ago, he doesn’t see the point. He does wonder if it ever got off the ground, ever managed to save just a few.
Phillips reappears and disturbs his thoughts, the clipboard still in his hand. Larry notices it’s full of scribbled notes with percentages next to them. ‘Is now a good time for a progress update, Mr. President?’
Larry gets up, making himself stand shoulder to shoulder with the General. ‘I’m not sure there will ever be a good time, but I guess I need to hear it.’
Phillips nods back, looking at his notes as if he’s trying to find the best place to start. He taps the pen on the plastic as he makes a ticking sound with his mouth, until he seems to find what he was looking for. ‘Let’s start furthest away from home and work our way backwards,’ he says, as he ushers them over to the large, interactive map of the world.
They soon reach the workstation of a young soldier and Phillips taps him on the shoulder, making him jump as they distract him from whatever important work he was doing. The screen zooms in until it is only showing a red Europe, as Larry realises he is going to get a continent-by-continent summary of how screwed the world really is. He sees the many skulls covering the landmass and he wants to laugh. He is seriously impressed by how much data the American war machine can collect from around the world, but he also knows that this cannot stop the beasts from winning.
Phillips coughs and then looks down at his notes. ‘So, Europe has taken the biggest hit with only 30% of the population is left there. This is probably because, as we know, they seem to attack world leaders and centres of power, and that’s where there is the largest concentration. They crept through Africa days before anyone knew and didn’t bother themselves with anything but the biggest cities. After that Spain got hit next, as they simply walked out of the ocean and onto the beaches. It took them a while to work their way through the Spanish countryside, and then through France, and at that point the majority of world powers still didn’t know what was happening. When they eventually reached the rest of the European countries they realised it might not be a virus or plague.’
‘And we still don’t know why they are attacking world leaders?’
Phillips doesn’t answer, but he holds out his hand, keeping his focus on the pad. ‘Don’t stop me now, Mr. President, I’m on a roll.’ He taps the shoulder of his helper who in turn starts tapping commands onto the computer.
‘The Nordic regions are almost gone, probably because the population is concentrated in a few major cities. Russia put up a good fight and we think there are several thousand in the mountains, but since we have limited intelligence over there it’s hard to say. Asia, India and the Middle East have taken 70% losses so far and the battles are still continuing, so we should definitely nuke them. Australia is very big and a few thousand of the population remain but with the main cities across the coast destroyed, the majority of the surviving population will die of starvation.’ He taps his pen again, as he looks down his list and then up to Larry. ‘South America isn’t worth writing home about and Canada has gone the same way as Russia. So, all in all, I would say about 40% of the world’s population from before this started is now left, and further war casualties are projected to take us down to around 20%.’
Larry leans down and takes hold of the desk. ‘So, less than two billion will survive?’
Phillips quickly shakes his head. ‘Oh no, Mr. President, it’s nowhere near that high. Even if we assume the creatures are all destroyed, the direct assault of the nuclear tactical deterrents will kill off another billion or so, then add on the fall out and radiation, which will finish off at least another 500 million, if not more.’
He looks at Phillips but doesn’t say anything, somehow knowing he’s not finished yet.
‘And so we’re left with about 500 million. Now, this is where it gets interesting. You then need to assume that we have only killed off 60% of the lurkers, so they will easily manage to kill another couple hundred million of us. We will then probably manage to halve our numbers, when you think about everything that Mad Max has taught us. Then add in famine, disease, lack of modern medicine and the fact that we’re going to be dropping down a few rungs on the food chain, which will finish off another 60% of whatever remains.’
‘So we are left with less than ten million survivors?’
Phillips shakes his head again, as he flicks through more pages on his clipboard. ‘Our best scientists predict less than a million of us will be alive this time next year. When you then consider that people aren’t going to be having babies any time soon, the on-going fight for survival means that in a hundred years’ time we will be down to less than 50,000.’
Phillips nods, finally giving Larry and the human race the break they deserve. ‘Assuming the beasts don’t hunt us down to the last man, we will then steadily grow. Other than our current enemy there is no other creature on earth that has the capacity to grow as fast as we can. And since we’re several hundred-million years ahead of any other species we should reach our current numbers by the year 10,000.’
Larry shakes his head, looking down. ‘That sounds so unbelievably distant,’ he says, as he looks over at Lopez. ‘And so we have to trust her theory that some of the population will survive and grow, and that we will get back to where we are now?’
Phillips nods and smiles. ‘The population of our planet in 1800 was about a billion, so that gives you an idea of how it took us to recover last time. If you think that in the last 200 years we have grown by eight times from that original billion people, so it shows just what we’re capable of. It’s getting back to the first billion that’s the real hurdle.’
‘You believe her, don’t you?’
Phillips stops and remains completely unmoving for the first time since Larry has met him. ‘Mr. President, I don’t know what to believe but right now we have very little time left, so both of us need to pick something and grab hold on tight, before it’s too late.’
Larry looks at him and wonders if he should say anything, offer any words of wisdom from his own perspective. He looks at Phillips, who looks back, looking almost as if he needs something from his commander and chief.
‘What do you think, Mr. President?’ Phillips asks, clearly unable to bear the silence.
‘I think humans are living for no reason and so they can die for no reason just as easily.’
Phillips lets out a long, bellowing lau
gh and slaps Larry on the back. ‘Oh, come on, Mr. President. Think about all that we achieved in the last thousand years: it’s clearly incredible, but the saddest fact of all is that it hasn’t been enough. We just took too long to find the clues, spent too long fighting with each other and not enough time preparing to find their hiding place or getting enough of our people off this planet and onto another one.’
Larry nods, sort of agreeing with him, especially in the absence of any better theory. ‘If we had just been given another ten years then the Mars missions would have at least got a few people off, perhaps given us a small chance.’
Phillips leans forward, close to his ear. ‘You’re the president now, so I’ll let you into a little secret. There were two spacecraft launches that the general public was never aware of. The first one only had robots onboard and we managed to get another one off the ground last week with human astronauts as well. The whole public recruitment drive for the Mars 2025 mission was just to keep the press off our backs, so that we could pretend to launch test craft and the like.’
‘You mean people made it off our planet?’ he says and pulls away. ‘But how many?’
‘Well, only five humans plus the two robots. The chances of them surviving the journey are pretty slim but at least it’s another possible option for the human race.’
‘And if they don’t survive?’
‘We have left clues everywhere, hoping that our distant descendants will find them and realise sooner than we did that the inhabitants of this planet have a bigger purpose than simply existing. We want them to know that we don’t have all the time in the world, and the lurkers are the most brutal of timekeepers, waiting to strike whenever we grow. Hopefully the next batch of humans can save our race from destruction again, in another few millennia.’
‘I’m assuming our distant ancestors left clues, otherwise how would we know all this?’