by Paul Phipps
Please feel free to pass this on to your own people. The more people searching the better the chance of stopping this damned Bio-Weapon before some fanatic decides to go to Allah for his reward for killing millions or billions of infidels.”
“I’ll be sure to do that.” “Agent Smith’ told Ansel both seriously and with gratitude.
“And since you’ve been so helpful to us, do you have any questions that I might be able to answer for you?” Ansel asked him.
“Well, this is a switch.” ‘Smith muttered and then, “Actually yes, I do have a couple. How long will our dependents and ourselves have to be in quarantine once we are evacuated?”
“We are telling the various government’s, six months, it might be a little less but if there are wide spread outbreaks from us not being able to stop ‘Shaitan’s Breath. It might be permanent or until we can get them to another Earth.
I hate to say it but… Seriously, ‘Smith’ we just might not win this one. The ‘Breath’ is a purpose designed extinction weapon. One spore, Just ONE in the right place will mean that the infected carrier will spread this thing worldwide in a matter of weeks as the infection spreads from person to person.
Let me think here for a minute. You seem to be a film buff, true?”
“Yeah, in a way, certain categories any way.” Smith admitted with a small laugh.
“Ok, do you remember Resident Evil? The game and the Movies that came out afterwards?” Ansel probed.
“Yep, I played it as a kid on the Game Console.”
“Shaitan’s breath will spread faster than the Zombie bug and infect just as many people. Only they won’t be getting up and walking around like the living dead. They’ll just lie there and be dead. And this has the potential to infect any Mammal and do the same thing. Sooooo,” Ansel Drawled it out, “Like the Dinosaurs being wiped out by a Meteor or a Comet? For the Mammals of this Earth, it will be a sporating bacillus that just finds us all, just so damn tasty!”
“You have a way with words, Commander Webster.” ‘Agent Smith’ said as he stuck out his tongue made a ‘Yucky’ face. ”Ok then, last question. I heard your Fleet Admiral say that there was a whole world that was just going to be for the Followers of Islam, Correct? And that they all had to go or none could go?”
“Yes, that’s correct, on both parts.” Ansel told him.
“You do realize that they all won’t go don’t you?”
“You’re probably correct in your analysis. But they will not be permitted to colonize any of the other worlds either. And we can and will do that. And once we start the colonization of the other worlds we will have several info-channels devoted to the wonders and opportunities that all of the other peoples of the world are able to go to and they can’t.
And with our verifier technology their religious mandated rule of lying to the infidel to advance the cause of Islam will not work. True converts to other religions, no problem, but one who ‘converts’ to another religion with the ulterior intent of spreading Islam once they immigrate, No, they won’t slip through. And so we will control the spread of Islam to the other Worlds.”
“That’s awfully harsh, and why pick on Islam alone?” Agent Smith asked in a slightly aggressive tone of voice.
“From your questions I am assuming you must follow Islam also. So I must have your Word of Honor and I have a truth Verifier here to insure it. That what I am about to show you cannot be talked about outside of yourself and the TSN. And you WILL be tempted, so think damn hard about giving your word here.” Ansel told him in a dead serious tone of voice.
“It’s that bad?” ‘Agent Smith’ asked wonderingly.
“For you, it might be the end of your faith. So yes, it’s that bad.” Ansel told him.
The intelligence agent said quietly, “I’m in this business because it’s my job. It’s also a ‘calling’ in a way. To learn as much as possible so as to defend against or take out the bad guys when I can. So, I can’t turn away from this knowledge you offer.” He paused and closed his eyes tightly. His voice shook slightly, “I… I give you my Word of Honor not to talk about what you tell me unless it’s to you or unless you give me permission in the future.”
Ansel’s Verifier indicated that the agent was telling the truth. At which point he told the agent, “Very well then, I accept your word of honor.
The Gho’ L’Gamesh visited over fifteen thousand versions of Earth. Fifteen Thousand Seven Hundred and thirteen before they found us. Of those Earth’s there are approximately three hundred and eighty two where it appears the Human race became extinct because of various religious rulings or Fatwa’s in the Case of Islam.
On some it was a ruling that no children were to born until the ‘one that had been prophesized’ came to them. Well since he hadn’t been born yet and the religious police enforced the rules, the human race died out.
Several others had religious wars between various sects. And they used advanced weaponry to do the job there.
On one particularly weird one, a ‘ruling’ was made that only the high caste could marry. Only married women could have children, and the custom of the high caste was to neuter the males in a religious ceremony into becoming a functioning member of the high caste. Ergo no more birth’s once that ruling went into place. This was enforced by some of the most bloodthirsty means you can think of also. The streets literally ran red with blood.
All of these ‘religions’ have distinct similarities with Islam. All of these versions of the Human Race became extinct because of their religion and most of those worlds are uncolonizable because of what occurred.
So because of the histories of those other versions of Earth and the Similarity of Islam to those Religions, we have made our decision. We are not going to deny Islam a chance to grow and prove us wrong. In fact we would be very happy to see that occur.
We are just going to insure that Islam is not exported to the other Colony Worlds. They too deserve a chance to make their own destinies.”
‘Agent Smith’ was silent as Ansel told him the TSN’s reasoning. And with Shoshone displaying on the wall screen selected images from the various versions of Earth as Ansel was speaking it tended to slam his preconceptions over and over. Once Ansel was through with his short presentation the agent asked:
“I understand now why the TSN feels the way they do about Islam. I don’t have to like it and it is going to cause me to do a ton of hard contemplation.
On the other hand I will pass on the information about the ‘Shaitan’s Breath’ and the possible couriers. I hope you find it very soon. This end-of-the-world stuff is fun to read about and imagine what you would do in such a situation. But it isn’t any fun to be in after all.” He said somberly.
“Yeah, you’re right there.” Ansel agreed soberly. “After things settle down, give me a call. I’ll take you on a tour of the solar system.” He finished up with a grin.
“I’ll just do that… Now how do I get out of here?”
After ‘Agent Smith’ was back in the courtyard of the U.S. Consulate. Comanche lifted and headed for the next nearest Embassy or consulate, at this point it didn’t matter. The message was going to be the same for each of them. And those that wanted their dependents evacuated now would find the TSN ready and able to do so.
White House, Washington D.C. 1830 EST, Sunday, November 15, 2026
Ambassador Wallace and his wife Bernice are having a private Dinner with President Richardson and his wife Anne.
“I do appreciate that you were able to come over this evening for dinner with us.” Anne Richardson said to Bernice Wallace as she guided the Ambassador and his wife into the First Family’s parlor to wait comfortably until the White House Staff announced that dinner was ready. President Richardson was already present after rushing upstairs from his office after being notified once again that The Wallace’s would be there shortly.
“Harrison! It’s good to see you and Bernice again.” President Richardson told him as he shook hands warmly. “I apolo
gize for not meeting you at the Portico; Anne had to send someone to remind me that you were here. I’m spending way too much time in that office or at meetings it seems.”
“Is it the IUR again?” Harrison Wallace the Ambassador for the United Kingdom asked.
“In a way, yes, I was just getting updates on our people being evacuated out by the Terran Space Navy. Damn that still seems so strange to say.” He muttered.
“Isn’t it though?” Ambassador Wallace agreed. “So, can you tell me what’s happening?”
“I’m sure your staff will brief you tomorrow. The upshot is that any embassy or consulate that asks is having their dependents and excess staff evacuated. The TSN has constructed habitats on the moon to hold them all. So far everyone is doing fine there and they have free unlimited communication access back here to Earth.”
“Excellent news, Mr. President, Excellent!” Ambassador Wallace said with a beaming smile. ”How long will they be there?”
“The TSN is saying around six months, the bad part is it might be permanent is we don’t find those two missing vials of that damnable Bio-Weapon. Commander Webster has confided to our Consulate in Tehran that they are worried that they may have acted too late. They think that at least one of the vials made it out of the IUR before their ‘Blockade’ was activated.”
“Really? Too late?” Ambassador Wallace said in a worried tone of voice.
“Yes, they have already had one confirmed release of the Bio-Weapon. They have that contained. But it demonstrates the mindset of these people. They either don’t care what happens or they want it to happen.
They have also asked us for assistance in containing and cleaning up the confirmed site. I am going to authorize the Army BIO-Warfare Center to give it to them. Everything and anything is to be made available.”
“I see… May I pass this on to His Majesty’s Government?” Ambassador Wallace asked.
“Of course, they probably know it already from your own Embassy. But it won’t hurt to let them get a confirmation from you.” The president said. “Now enough of business, let’s go enjoy a good dinner.”
And with that he and the First lady escorted their personal guests to the Family Dining room for a very good dinner indeed made better by the company of people that they liked.
Later on the two couples were back in the Parlor having an after dinner drink. When Bernice Wallace asked Anne Richardson if she had seen the Briefing that Commander Webster of the TSN had given the news media.
“I did, and I commented on it at the time that I admired his Chutzpah. He told them you know, either you show the whole thing in its entirety or they were cut off permanently from any further contact with the Terran Space Navy.” She said admiringly.
“Well, that’s only part of it you know.” Ambassador Wallace told her. “Do you know what happened prior to Commander Webster giving his ultimatum?”
“Well, no, I don’t. What happened before that?” She asked in curiosity.
“Two men in the film crews tried to assassinate him. Right there in front of the cameras.” He told them.
“And then what happened?” Bernice Wallace said in wonder.
“They lost their hands is what happened. There were two of his Guard units on the deck hidden behind their stealth shields.” Ambassador Wallace said shaking his head. “And Webster was cool as a cucumber. He didn’t even bat an eye as his troops carried the screaming men off.”
“Really?” She said in wonder.
“Yes, really” Her husband told her seriously. “Most of it was caught on film. He just stood there as if he had expected the whole thing to occur, which he just might have, come to think of it.
“You’ve met both the Webster’s haven’t you? The Admiral and the Commander?” Ambassador Wallace asked.
“I have met Fleet Admiral Webster in person and I have had Commander Webster on a Teleconference when we were discussing the possibility of them blockading the IUR.” He then laughed ironically, “Blockade, Hmph. They chose their term carefully. We all thought that they were going to blockade their shipping. They chose to blockade the entire nation. Quite remarkable, you must admit.”
“Yes, it is. Sometimes their capabilities are frightening. But on the other hand they have shown amazing restraint. If it had been one of us, we would have been mightily tempted to go in with guns blazing. They seem content to just sit there and let the Iranian Republic stew in their own juices.” Ambassador Wallace said carefully.
“Yes, they are very patient. I’m not sure if it’s a man-power issue or if they just feel that time is on their side in some issues but against them in others.” President Richardson said as he nursed his glass of Ginger Ale.
“Whichever it is, they’re doing well at the moment. It is also a curious thing that they really don’t want to impose anything on the rest of the nations. At least not so far, to my knowledge.”
“Do you have any feel on how the United Nations is going handle the TSN?” President Richardson inquired of his old friend.
“Actually I do,” Ambassador Wallace said “I believe that they are going to ignore the TSN and wait for them to come to the United Nations with their hands out. They seem to think that the TSN will behave just like all of the other nations do. A little graft here, a little baksheesh there.”
“Oh boy… Are they in for a rude awakening.” Anne Richardson said with feeling. “All you have to do is watch that briefing and Commander Webster’s Q & A with the reporters to know that.”
“Interesting, that you would put it that way. Why?” Bernice Wallace asked in curiosity.
“Why? Maybe it’s a feeling or just my subconscious working overtime. But I believe that the Webster’s in particular and the TSN in general, have limits or points, what-have-you, that they have established and won’t budge on.
I also believe that they will not hesitate to go around the various National Governments and go directly to the people if they need to.”
“I trust your feeling there dear, I believe that we are in for ‘interesting times’ as the Chinese would say.” President Richardson commented in a somber voice. “Enough of that for now, Ok?”
The two couple sat and enjoyed the company of each other for a while longer. Then it was time for the Wallace’s to go. Tomorrow was a new day and everyone needed to rest up for it.
TSN Epiphany, 0630L, Monday November 16, 2026
At the early morning breakfast that was fast becoming a traditional way of starting the day Each Human member and selected A.I. members of the TSN would give a quick briefing of their activities on the day before and then discuss the current day’s activities.
“Evana, how did it go yesterday?” Commander Webster asked her after finishing his breakfast.
“Not too bad. One of the IUR Army Majors tried to run roughshod over me because I am a mere woman. I listened to him start his harangue and I had him tubed right then and there. He and his men didn’t know what to say when he was yanked up into the ISO-Tube Carrier.
After I explained to the remaining Captain why they were blockaded in and what the ‘Agricultural Research Station’ had really been doing. I did get some cooperation, not a lot mind you, but some. Especially once I explained that the Major was found to be contaminated with spores.
When I also told the Mayor equivalent of Ramsheh that his people had three choices. They could stay and submit to daily examination for the ‘Shaitan’s Breath’ for a period of at least six months or they would be left alone in peace to live or die out as ‘Allah’ wills. I also gave them the choice of being evacuated to M1.”
“I imagine that went over like a lead balloon.” Gunnar said with a small smile.
“It did, but thanks to Maude and Susannah coming up with that Scanner-Arch of theirs it made the ‘examinations’ much easier for them to accept. Just walk through the Scanner-Arch and you were either clean or not. It also detects those bomb capsules and the normal compliment of diseases.
I had the Doctors and associat
ed medical people in the area brought in. They were instructed on how to use the Scanner-Arch’s and what to do if it detected ‘Shaitan’s breath’, I will leave them to do it all on their own. I also plan on giving them 20 Scanner-Arch’s.”
“Tell us all about it, it sounds like you had a more interesting day then Gunnar and myself. Also, what is a Scanner-Arch and did you find anyone else contaminated with ‘Shaitan’s Breath’?” Ansel inquired.
“No, we didn’t. But we did find some live spores in the area around the Lab complex. That’s also been completely sealed off now, now as to the details of my day?”
Evana’s Day - 1015L, Sunday, November 15, 2026
Evana Thomas, formerly Lt. Commander Thomas of the United States Navy was sitting in the Command Chair of the TSN Scout Rover. They were just lifting off from the Companion’s flight deck and heading for ten thousand feet. As was the unofficial policy of the TSN when trying to be obvious to the populace below them in the blockaded Iranian Unified Republic their forward speed was only around one hundred fifty miles per hour.