MEEK

by Richard Johnson

  “Now that really is a sad fucking story,” said Baz roaring with laughter. “That’s like Jack and Daniel being recruited from a seminary.”

  All that Mark was learning about Paul from all this, was that he was human. He was a driven personality. His parents, although not in any way ‘connected’ or aligned with any organisation, gave him an excellent education, he had travelled extensively as a child. They had an excellent work ethic and despised and resented the parasitical nature of life in the Oz socialist utopia that victimised them for aspirations they were well capable of achieving if they were free to do so. They offered up their only son on the altar of a democratic meritocracy. He had not married and was wary of females, but liked them a lot and aspired to be like Barry one day. His dream was of a life where he served his country and had a lifelong partner with children and pets. He could be cold and calculating and would sacrifice all for the sake of the common good. For Paul the end could easily justify the means, it was just a question of price; freedom and democracy were priceless. This attitude was something a jihadi could never understand and could only lose against. Barry once said if Paul’s finger was on the red button he would be working out how hard to push it. Mark now knew this was true. He was the true scourge of Islam and had become the enemy of all the ignorant. He didn’t take shit or even bother listening to it; a truly dangerous man. It was obvious that Jack, Daniel and Barry loved him like a brother. Mark was seeing his humanity as lacking in something somehow, and he had a theory.

  The evening wore on and eventually it was time to call it a night. Mark saw Paul being escorted to his official car by Jack and Daniel. The cockatoo waitress went with them. “So he is not perfect then?” said Mark.

  “I would say perfect enough for me.” replied Barry.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  APRIL 2040

  Hawk sent the message to Paul. “Some good news, all though not what you are hoping for. We can make the virus go into a dormant stage for approximately two years. The death process will also last longer, approximately three months, the first month will be free from debilitating symptoms. Therefore we can extend useful life by two years and one month. Once entering an environment where the virus is dormant it would still be a countdown, but people may want the choice of two years and one month of normality and then dying with dignity.”

  Paul sat quietly for an hour in his office mulling over his new options. Not everyone could be housed in the Antarctic facility. This letter from Hawk did make one of his options more palatable. By refusing entry to those fifty years of age or older, he was no longer condemning them to death. Key personnel were exempt from the age rule. They would have two years and one month of normal life plus the possibility that a cure would be found in that time. Considering the harshness of life they would otherwise be facing in the Antarctic it was possible that many would have chosen to stay anyway and take their chances. The sick and handicapped would also be left behind. In so doing, the chances of getting the number down to 480, 000 was possible although he would probably need around a thousand to volunteer to stay which, with the new information, may be now more easily achieved. So, all things considered it was good news and he sent a thank you message to Hawk and informed him of the arrangements and date for evacuation.

  On May 25th, the disc ships arrived to begin the transfer of people to the Antarctic base. Many Aboriginal descendents expressed their intention to return to their homelands, especially those with elderly family. A large walkabout with people making a trek quietly back north ensued; a most melancholy procession. The ferry awaited them in Hobart; they would disembark in a now deserted Melbourne. Paul knew that those with tribal lands far to the north would spend their two years just walking there and may not even make it back to their tribal areas before the Plague destroyed them. He explained the problem to Hawk, who was deeply moved by this need to return home to die in ancestral lands. Here strangely was a parallel situation to that of the Tuathans. Hawk pledged all would be done that was possible to transport them. Those who were destined to stay, were required to receive two injections containing nanoprobes, then to spend one hour in a special radiation chamber. This would condition and stimulate the patient’s immune system to make it able to identify the deadly virus and activate the probes whose task was to seek out the virus and stun it, rendering it temporally harmless until the treatment wore off. This treatment was severe and a one-off, attempts to repeat the procedure damaged the immune system of the patient but had no affect on the virus which, once recovered, rapidly mutated and finished its deadly job. Paul was in half a mind to stay behind and agonised constantly over the best thing to do for the nation. Those who had groomed him, were mostly dead now and would accept their fate, living the last of their days in comfort in southern Tasmania. They told him his duty was to survive and lead the nation back into the light and a new future. There were no longer any indications of how many went underground in the last days of the northern hemisphere. Hawk said their AI suggested between one and one and a half million. It said the number was too large as the individual bunkers had more than a quarter of a million in each and survival would not extend to more than fifteen months before resources forced them to the surface. Three months of which were already passed. The Antarctic would provide just four bunkers of 120, 000 for the Australian refugees and two others of 250, 000 each to house the South American survivors. Again the Tuathans did not approve, stating the Australian bunkers were at the maximum capacity to sit out any reasonable length of time. They had little intelligence on the northern bunkers, but even the better designed South American ones would be struggling to last two years.

  June the second was the last day scheduled for the transfers and was reserved for government officials. Jack and Daniel, who had opted to stay behind and serve as security to some of Paul’s old mentors, had come to the space pad to say goodbye. Paul, Barry, Barbara and Mark were surprised to see Richard and Kana there. “We will be leaving for Mars in two days, we have closed down all remaining Consortium assets and will be living on Mars colony three. We are here for a specific reason. We wish to offer sanctuary to you, Mark, and we hope Jade and Conor will join us. Consortium rules have been bent because the board realised you and your family are a precious asset. I’m sorry they will not accept more refugees, but they are adamant.”

  Jade was kissing Richard, “Oh thank you thank you, of course we accept, the thought of returning to the settlement without Mark was unbearable.”

  Mark was saying nothing but had a troubled expression on his face. Paul walked up to him and placed his hands on Mark’s shoulders. “I order you to go, Mark. This is best for everyone, believe me. You are Conor’s father and he is unique. He needs you and we all need you to do this. You are not abandoning anyone, do you understand?”

  Mark looked at all his friends with pain and confusion written on his face. Then he silently nodded acquiescence and began his farewells.

  The disc ship rose in its strangely silent fashion which had always unnerved Mark. He had his arm tightly around Jade, who in turn was holding Conor in her arms. They watched until there was nothing to see anymore, just a cold, light grey steely sky. Jack and Daniel said their goodbyes also; their respective families had left three days earlier. Richard explained they would be using a Tuathan disc ship as all Consortium vessels were now on Mars. It was to take them firstly to the Tuathan settlement for a quick briefing. The natives were to stay in an isolation chamber. From there they would head directly to Mars.

  Hawk was waiting for them and entered the isolation chamber quickly and sat down. He seemed a little flustered. “I am not sure if I am doing the right thing by letting Jade and Conor go. I have no instructions and am going with my instincts on this.”

  Clover was standing next to him and said, “Personally I believe this to be the most logical solution. Hawk can seek the guidance of the elders when the Portal opens, but for now go with our deepest love. We will visit you on Mars in the near future. There is n
o sign that the Plague is in the Martian colony. It is quite safe and the Consortium’s technology is sound, although a little primitive.”

  There were more tears and hugs, then they left and the disc ship rose above the magical city that still had no name. As they rose Mark looked down at the Earth, wondering if he would ever see it again. The events of the last twenty-four hours had left him feeling numb and he would need some more time to let it all sink in, maybe a lifetime.

  Conor slept most of the way to Mars, Jade and Mark sat most of the way holding hands and drinking green tea. Richard and Kana left them alone. Once they landed, they were shown to the shaft elevator that took them to the bottom of number three colony. It was night and the colony was poorly lit. Power was used for heating, not light. They were escorted to what would be their home. It was a small two-bedroom apartment. The walls were lined in an apricot-coloured plastic material. All the furniture and fittings were built in and functional to the point of being sterile. Mark hated it. “Home sweet home,” he said in an unconvincing fashion.

  Jade picked up on his mood. “It will be fine, my love. We will personalise it starting tomorrow.” The temperature in Conor’s bedroom showed ten degrees they quickly turned on the heating. Conor drank some milk then, once he was wrapped in thermal blankets and the temperature had risen to twelve degrees, he fell into a deep sleep. Mark realised he was going to have a lot of trouble with the cold on Mars. Tuathan temperatures were on average six degrees colder than Earth at the same latitudes, their equatorial belt was a warm temperate climate. This was a summer night on Mars, and Mark was freezing even with the assisted climate control technology.

  “I can’t help but be amused by the irony of this situation,” he said laying in a strange bed with Jade. “Do you realise that you would have legal rights to claim this planet as yours as your people settled it first? Fortunately for the Consortium there are no international courts left on Earth.” Jade laughed and cuddled in to him.

  “That was such an Earth-centric view you just expressed Mark. There are courts on Tuath that have the power to declare Mars as theirs and the power to cut off Earth supplies to Mars to ensure the point is understood.”

  “Shit! You are right. Would they do such a thing?”

  “No. What would be gained? We do not have any strong feelings about Mars. If the Consortium wants it Tuath would say fine. We were glad to find a real home on Tuath. Mars was never a real home for us even though we tried to make it so. The settlement on Earth is another issue, though. I have watched it blossom in a way that takes my breath away. The Tuathans are so very happy there Mark, and I see many adjustments may have to be made to how we all regard our home planet in the future.”

  Mark realised the ramifications of what she was saying. The natives no longer held all the cards, they needed the Tuathans to survive; they were becoming a dependent subspecies. Conor started to cry, so they both got up to see to him. “He knows he doesn’t belong here,” said Mark.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  DECEMBER 2040

  Hawk had ordered the mapping of all bunkers on the planet and a population survey was to be carried out. A small survey disc ship was sent north with only two crew to carry out the assignment. Efforts had been concentrated on feeding the bunkers in the Antarctic. The Tuathans were working themselves to exhaustion just doing that. The northern hemisphere had been left to its own devices and nature had already made inroads in claiming back the land. They flew to central America, then north up the eastern seaboard. The AI detected various small bunkers that had been built by religious groups who decided to be better safe than sorry after the failed global conference. They had been underground for nearly seven months. The first one they investigated had been broken into. The bodies within showed evidence of fighting and slaughter, apparently those who broke in were looters. This became a common feature. After investigating twenty-eight such individualistic bunkers, no survivors were found. All had been attacked except for three where the bodies of the inhabitants were found outside their bunkers, generally lying with their backs against a tree.

  They continued north, zigzagging low over the landscape. The Australian satellites were still functioning and they were supplying co-ordinates. They crossed the Canadian border and headed for Alaska where they encountered two large bunkers just below the Arctic Circle only six kilometres apart. These were the American government-built facility. The Tuathans contacted them but received no reply. As there were signs of machinery and electronics still working they decided to land. They cut their way into the first bunker and returned to put on environ suits as the Plague had got there before them: the smell was atrocious. It was the same with the second one except the ship’s AI was insisting there were human life signs. They found around thirty people sealed inside the medical bay. They had constructed a hasty environ chamber and had taken their chances that they did not have the virus. The Tuathans put them in suits and helped them back to the ship. Once on board they were cleaned up and fed. They sat quietly as the two options were given to them.

  “Our scans indicate you are clean, therefore you are being given two choices. You can be given the prolongation treatment and be dropped off in a location of your choice, or dropped off at another bunker. Five of the older women chose the treatment; they could not handle bunker life anymore. They were dropped off 1000 kilometres south where the climate was more temperate in a small town on the coast. The shops were full of preserved food, they could live in style for a couple of years. The rest were dropped off at a small bunker in northern Alaska where the inmates were doing quite well. They were well received as they had been supplied with fresh vegetables and fish in quantities big enough to feed the entire bunker for a few weeks.

  This became the routine. Shuffling survivors around, dropping off food and medicine, recording population statistics and monitoring the virus strength in the environment. All information was being received directly at the settlement.

  The Australian bunkers were functioning well and there were no shortages of food. Boredom had not yet had much of an impact as yet, unlike those in the northern hemisphere where crowded bunkers, and the fact they had been in them an extra three months, were breaking down into murder and mayhem. Constant communications with the Tuathan settlement gave a sense of there still being an outside world. Paul had decided to take a long haul approach to their confinement and ordered the underground expansion of the bunkers. This was to keep the population busy as well as providing additional living space. He had also requested the Tuathans build an above-ground level with double glazing and storm shutters. This would act as an observation and recreational area. It would do wonders for morale, but unfortunately Hawk had said he could not at this stage spare the labour, it would have to wait until February, he would review it then.

  In January the Portal opened, the new fleet arrived and the news was sent about the entire situation to date. The latest arrivals did not concern themselves with the Mars colony but went straight and fast to the settlement. Once landed, they told Hawk that it was the elders’ opinion that he should present them with a plan for the possibility that the virus could neither be destroyed nor controlled. Genetic engineering was an impractical solution as it took thousands of years for Tuathans to evolve into their present form. What the elders didn’t know but would, once the latest reports arrived, was that the research team at the settlement had discovered that subtle changes had occurred in the natives anyway. Change in diet and lifestyle together with 200 years of industrial pollution had set them on a different evolutionary path and this had caused a slight difference in physiology between the two species, even without the dramatic selective breeding practices of the Tuathans.

  The population of the settlement was being enhanced by more pregnancies. It was noticeable that the settlement seemed to stimulate the desire to have children. Clover had been looking enviously at the pregnant women who seemed to have difficulty stopping themselves from smiling.

  “I love this plac
e so much, Hawk. It is so full of hope and happiness, I sometimes think about Tuath but I am never homesick for it. I would be very content to grow old with you here.”

  Hawk was thinking about Mars and the bunkers. No babies were being born there and the population was aging. As time wore on, more and more would opt for the treatment, it was inevitable they were dying out. Searching for a cure was no longer good enough, he needed another option. Hawk decided to come clean about the situation and open up to Paul. He opened up a comm link and projected his holo into Paul’s tiny office inside the bunker.

  Paul liked these holo visits although, he mused, they were hollow compared to the real thing.

  “I need your advice and opinion. The elders are asking me for a Plan B. The cure has not been found and frankly we are losing hope. The northern bunkers are being found laid waste to accidents and violence. The native population is unable to breed and is dying out faster than we can count.” Hawk had pulled no punches.

  “If we accept that there is no hope of a cure, then the logical choices are as follows. Live on in the bunkers until we take the option or die here. If we do that, I would request again you help us enlarge the bunkers and provide safe environment facilities above ground where we could live protected from non-sterile resources. This may stimulate a sense of hope and encourage the conception of children to replace the elderly. I can of course, order conception. Another choice is, to insist we are allowed to settle on Mars. However, I see their sense of freedom as flawed. Living on Mars is hardly much better, than living in a bunker on Earth. They are not dependent on you and Mark has told me they are looking at the possibility of building an interstellar vessel.”

  “Yes Paul, we could lend them disc ships but it is a huge violation of the rule of interference. Their resentment of us is growing. In the north the attitude towards us has also sunk to the level of hatred. Recently a bunker in The Russian Arctic requested treatment and evacuation. Once they reached their nominated destination where they were to spend their last two years, they killed the Tuathans and ate them. They then destroyed the disc ship when they found they had no control over the AI.”