by Talbot, Luke
“And if I do?”
“You won’t.”
Just then, Zahra shouted over at them.
He looked at his watch and cursed in Arabic. “Time, George!”
They were late to their positions, and Patterson was due to arrive in less than forty minutes. Looking up at his friend, he put his hand on the Englishman’s arm and smiled. “Do not worry, my friend. You will be fine. We will also be fine, and we will rescue Gail. In less than an hour, we’ll all be standing here laughing about it, wondering what all the fuss was about.”
George watched as he walked towards the cliff and disappeared over the edge, on his way down to where Zahra had parked the Toyota in preparation. Ben’s car was safely hidden behind an outcrop of rocks further down the track.
He turned towards Zahra, in time to see her taking up position, lying down just behind the cliff’s edge, giving her a perfect view of Ben and the track that led back to the Nile. Leena and Tariq were settling behind some rocks on the left hand side of the gulley, while Manu and Haji had already disappeared on the right.
He stood on the plateau, alone, surveying the scene for more than a minute before Zahra barked an order at him to hide. Doing as he was told, he ran towards the left side of the gulley, and as he climbed up the smooth stones, thought about Ben’s parting comment: In less than an hour, we’ll all be standing here laughing about it, wondering what all the fuss was about.
George had no idea how wrong this would turn out to be.
Chapter 66
Seth Mallus checked his watch impatiently. He then barked a single command and looked at the virtual window behind his desk.
The news channel logo sprung into the centre of the screen, wobbling slightly as if to emphasise the speed of its arrival. In doing so, introductory movies of the latest news stories slid out in all directions, filling the screen. The logo then spun round to reveal the disembodied head of a young lady, with thin librarian-style glasses and hair tied up in a short ponytail.
“Would you like a news roundup, or a specific story?” she said smilingly, her head cocked to one side and an eyebrow lifted in anticipation.
“Give me a summary of everything major,” he mumbled.
“Thought so,” she smirked. She turned round as if to look at the introduction videos behind her, and the camera shifted to her point of view. The videos that had been looping their short introductions in the background fizzled out, to be replaced by a tapestry of a dozen or so smaller videos. One by one they were brought forward, as the avatar gave a running commentary.
“There’s been widespread flooding in Eastern Europe, they’re now in the fourth consecutive day of non-stop deluge in the Carpathian Mountains, which has swollen many of the rivers in the region. Bratislava and Budapest on the Danube are currently the worst affected large cities, while large areas of countryside in Romania and Slovakia are completely underwater.” The video moved from raging torrents of swollen rivers to swathes of people wading knee-deep through murky-brown water, carrying bundles of belongings, children, the elderly and the exhausted. The standing water stretched as far as the eye could see, and power boats littered the countryside, picking up passengers here and there. “A humanitarian crisis is being predicted by the Red Cross and Medecins Sans Frontières, with thousands of refugees fleeing the worst hit parts, while Austria has closed its border with the Slovak Republic. Vienna is on heightened alert for fears the rainfall will move west in the coming days and the Austrian government is making preparations for large scale evacuations of the city. More than a thousand people are thought to have died already, with that number set to rise as conditions for refugees deteriorate.”
The video dissolved, to be replaced by several bodyguards clearing a way through a heaving throng of reporters and protesters; then emerged an attractive woman in a red dress-suit, smiling and waving as she followed the bodyguards towards a waiting car. “Jane Getty was today cleared of all charges in the Oil-Aid scandal, by a High Court ruling in Canberra. The Australian far-left politician, who made headlines in July last year for her strong support of the Central African Republic’s communist uprising, had been accused of embezzling several billion dollars of funding from the World Bank targeted towards developing infrastructure in Africa. The aid, designed to facilitate the increase in oil production for the region and help meet global energy demands, has so far been very effective in Nigeria, more than doubling its crude oil output to make it the fourth largest oil producing country in the world, behind the United States, Russia and China.”
The video switched to a view of a desolate African town. Burnt out cars littered the sides of the road, barely a dusty track between rows of dilapidated shacks. “Jane Getty, a former advisor to OPEC following Australia’s accession to full membership in 2042, has fought back at her recent critics, who say that her position in Australian politics is untenable, by attacking Prime Minister Humphries directly. In an interview after her court hearing, Ms Getty called Humphries a Puppet of Westminster and a Slave to nineteenth century Imperialism and the Old World, who didn’t have the strength to break away from Europe and forge new alliances in the Southern Hemisphere to help make Australia a truly great nation.” The video cut to a three dimensional pie-chart. “Polls taken directly after the interview showed Getty’s Populist party taking a slight lead over the Australian Labour Party, sparking fears in London that dissolution of the constitutional monarchy, in effect since 1901, could be a real possibility when votes are cast in the New Year.”
Mallus checked his watch again and then returned his gaze to the screen.
The video disappeared, and another story came forwards.
“Diplomatic relationships between China and the United States worsened this afternoon, as four Chinese warships moved into defensive positions in International Waters off the Pacific coast of America. The ships, Lanzhou class destroyers, form part of the country’s recently formed Fourth Fleet, the first Chinese fleet to undertake exercises in so-called blue water, beyond the traditional coastal and pacific island range of the Chinese Navy. The public display of strength, a first for typically well-guarded China, comes after talks between the two countries broke down regarding the US military presence in South Korea. In an attempt to play down fears that the situation will escalate further, the President of the United States stated in a press conference that talks would resume soon, and that the diplomatic process would prevail.” A flying camera took in miles of border fences, lookout towers and barracks, mirrored on the other side of an empty band of grass a couple of miles wide. “The United States continues to have a significant military presence in South Korea, in particular along the one hundred and fifty mile long Demilitarised Zone, with over forty thousand active personnel stationed there. A recent peace treaty between North and South Korea has been brokered mainly by China, though the former has refused to sign the accord while the United States maintains a presence in the region. Despite significant external pressure, the US has refused to leave its defensive positions, a move largely resented by South and North Koreans alike.”
The next video showed the unmistakable backdrop of the Pyramids of Giza, in front of which the sprawl of Cairo shimmered in the baking sun. Plumes of smoke emanated from half a dozen locations across the Egyptian capital. “No one has yet claimed responsibility for yesterday’s terrorist bombings in Cairo, which left dozens dead and hundreds more injured. The attacks, against mainly Western targets, are believed to have been carried out by one of a number of Islamic fundamentalist cells in the country, who have been calling for the creation of an Islamic State, the introduction of Sharia Law and an end to the democracy that many Egyptians believe has favoured Western influence over traditional values.”
The video of Cairo vanished, to be replaced by a deserted factory, its gates padlocked. “Production at the Chicago Assembly manufacturing plant ended for the last time this morning. The factory, Ford’s oldest remaining manufacturing plant, first built the famous Model T Ford in 1924, and
in the subsequent century saw production of the characteristic Taurus, Mercury and Centauri models. Analysts see the closure of the Chicago plant as the final nail in the coffin for the American automobile industry, following –”
“OK, stop,” Mallus held his hand up, giving a quick glance to his watch as he did so. “Floods, terrorists, diplomatic tension over Korea, political scandals, factories closing, I get the picture.” He looked into the eyes of the lady on screen, who had turned round to face him as the screen zoomed away from the news. “No mention of Mars in all that, was there?”
She shook her head. “Nothing new. But everyone knows the real tension between the US and China is because of the cover up on Mars and the suspicion over the Taikonaut’s death in transit to Mars. The Korean situation is a good excuse for China to really pull its weight, and thanks to the Mars story, there is considerable public support behind the action.”
“And Cairo? The fundamentalists?”
She looked to the top left of the screen pensively for a few seconds, as if trying to remember something, then faced him again. “The online community is largely of the opinion that Islam sees the West as being weakened by the Mars findings. Christianity, which is the main religious belief system in the West, is reeling from the discoveries, and is not dealing with it very well. The existence of intelligent life on Mars seriously puts into question the Book of Genesis, which is the fundament for most of Christianity. So far, the only defensible position that has been put forward is that the Martian findings are human artefacts, but that still contradicts the timelines put forward by the Bible. No official body has commented on the Mars findings yet. Until they do, and in particular until the Vatican does, news agencies remain cautious. One consideration is that with a lack of follow-up evidence from Mars, there is a hope that the story will simply blow over and be judged a fake. This is something the Islamic fundamentalists don’t want to happen, so they’re taking advantage of it while it’s still a hot topic among the general public.”
He looked at the lady and shook his head. “Screen off,” he said bluntly, and she dissolved into the background looking slightly offended to be switched off.
In her place, a busy cityscape emerged, giving the impression that his office was actually at the top of a tall skyscraper overlooking a large coastal metropolis. The illusion was impressive, one of the more satisfying virtual landscapes that had been programmed in to the office’s window to add colour to an otherwise bland underground setting. He afforded it a half-interested gaze for several moments, following a small airship with minor enjoyment as it wound its way round the towering buildings advertising a popular beer. The attention to detail in the simulation was truly stunning, although he knew full well that if he sat there watching for long enough, the very same airship would wind its way inexorably back along the exact same route, ad infinitum. The one touch that was unpredictable was the weather, and its effect on the sky. In fact, in spite of the basic algorithms that governed the ‘actors’ in the scene, the way in which the light played off every surface, even bending round and through individual drops of water as they ran in rivulets down the window panes on a rainy day, meant that it never looked the same twice.
He kept the scene going for a few more moments, until a dark cloud finally slumbered its way in front of the morning sun, before bringing himself from the reverie into which he had so easily fallen. He checked his watch.
It was time, and he didn’t want to miss it.
With a couple of concise spoken commands, the window scene disappeared, to be replaced by a split screen. In the top left hand corner he saw Mars; Dr Jane Richardson was sitting at the communication panel of the MLP. Her left hand rested on the joystick controller of a remotely operated camera, while her right hand fidgeted with her unkempt hair. She was staring endlessly at the video output of the remote camera. In the bottom left hand corner, the camera, stationed inside the underground tunnel into which the other two members of the Mars mission had disappeared, panned slowly from left to right, then back again. On the floor, Dr Richardson had set up a spotlight, which was focussed on the stone door that now remained tightly shut.
The bottom right hand corner of his display was blank.
In the top right hand corner of the screen, a CCTV camera showed three utility vehicles reversing into DEFCOMM’s main hanger through a large sliding door, which closed as soon as they were safely inside. The drivers, wearing blue overalls and baseball caps, got out and almost as one opened wide the split rear doors of the vans. Three identical teams of six people, wearing white lab coats, wheeled three identical devices, roughly the same dimensions and shape as an average household refrigerator placed on its side, up to the open doors.
Quick checks by the drivers were followed by the devices being loaded carefully and smoothly, until they had disappeared inside the vehicles. The doors were closed, the drivers got back behind their wheels, and the large sliding door of the hanger opened once more. Seconds later, the three vans were gone, the hanger closed, and the men in lab coats had returned to what looked like normal duties: overlooking the final assembly of a thirty foot long missile, checking visual readouts or supervising a large winch assembly that brought segments of a second missile from deep within the DEFCOMM complex.
He checked his watch again: a blink-and-miss-it ninety seconds had passed. Carefully planned, expertly executed. He shook his head in wonderment; there literally was no substitute for getting the right people for the job.
And in that time, on the left hand side of the screen, Dr Richardson had panned the remotely operated camera from left to right and then back again, half a dozen times. Her posture remained unchanged, and she was still fidgeting with her hair.
While hope remained that a solution to the Mars problem would be found, his instincts told him that Dr Richardson, regardless of whether they found the other crew members alive or not, would not fully recover from this ordeal, and replacing her with a simulation was simply out of the question.
Cityscapes indistinguishable from the real thing, busy playgrounds, even Martian exploration; you could fake them all and no one would suspect a thing. But there was no substitute for genuine human behaviour. A real human could tell a fake human’s face. Oh, there was no doubt you could play a trick for a while: advanced textures, hair, lighting effects, frame-perfect animation, cartilage-elasticity algorithms and detailed muscular modelling could all come together to create a truly believable person.
But eventually, and unavoidably, the truth would be apparent to the human eye. The news reader was a case in point. She was attractive, had girlish combed-back hair in a cute little ponytail, a nice smile, a couple of freckles here and there, and even had a cheeky little personality. Take a still photo and you could make someone believe she was real. But you only needed to watch one newsfeed to recognise that she wasn’t the product of a fruitful human relationship, but rather the output of a skilled development team, the illusion broken by the one thing that cannot be programmed: Life.
This to Seth Mallus, at this very moment, was the crux of the whole matter. The paradox with which he had battled internally since the Book of Xynutians had first been presented to him.
How can the propagation of intelligent life, the success of a species, be met with annihilation? How can an advanced species such as the Xynutians be wiped clear from the face of the planet with little or no trace?
The philosopher inside him told him that this was not a paradox. The logical culmination of all life is eventual death. But the logic inside him disagreed. While death was a certainty for some, why should this affect the species as a whole, and not simply the individuals concerned?
He had eventually drawn his conclusions based purely on gut feeling. The action plan he had devised had been put into place almost immediately. There had been no public debate. His position afforded him such executive luxuries, while the lavish defence budgets put forward by the United States government over successive years had been easily diverted to fund
the plan. No one had ever sought to question expenditure on a line-item basis, and many of the initiatives had cost relatively little, being simple divergence from original, legitimate projects, the truth of which was divulged to a select, well paid few.
And after years of careful planning and research, tonight he had reached a crossroads, although it vexed him slightly that his hand was being forced. The timing wasn’t of his choosing, and he would have enjoyed more freedom to study the Mars findings more.
Of course, there was still a chance that Dr Patterson would make a discovery, that the crew on Mars would be recovered safe and sound, and that the elaborate charade could once again resume. The ‘alien findings’ would gladly be accepted as impressive hoaxes, the ‘issues’ communicating with the Mars team put down to computer viruses initiated by the hoaxsters. The whole debacle would be given a suitably inflammatory ‘cyber-terrorism’ headline in the daily news, and undoubtedly a government agency previously unknown to the general public would suddenly receive billions of dollars of funding to combat this terrifying threat.
But just one look at Dr Richardson, alone in her little world on Mars, told him differently.
He was at a crossroads.
To the left, unfortunately made inaccessible by a big red ‘No Entry’ sign, the Mars team turn up safe and sound and everything goes back to normal.
Carry straight on, and DEFCOMM is investigated for its part in the biggest cover-up in history. He is arrested on suspicion of murdering a member of the Clarke’s crew and the head of a museum in Cairo, and also for abducting a respected British scientist and faking her death, in doing so making it abundantly clear that he had no intention of ever letting her go. Not to mention the lesser charge of misappropriating millions of dollars for personal research, and misusing government-owned equipment and defence systems, for which treason and piracy would probably be mentioned. He would be tried in Florida, where there would be no avoiding a certain death penalty.