by James Duggan
“Mister Buchanan, you may not have started all this as you protest, but you’re sure as hell going to finish it.”
Richards, as always, had been thoroughly briefed by his aides prior to the meeting and was fully aware of Buck’s illustrious capabilities.
“I’m putting you, with the help of my new friend Ringo sitting there beside you, in sole charge of the whole operation. Your plan is our wild card and your young man there is to get everything he wants to bring it to a satisfactory conclusion…and I mean everything.”
“But Mister President, surely this is a military matter, or at the very least it should be under the control of NASA.”
The protest came from General Armstrong who was steeped in military history and was a military man to his very core. He was ferociously backed up by Mike McConnell of the FBI who was worried about the implications for national security. Carl Gambiadini threw his pen over his shoulder in disgust at the thought of someone outside his direct field of command at NASA usurping his authority.
Buck sat bemused as the chatter around him rolled on for a minute or so until it finally faded away as Richards called for calm.
“People, this is not the time to be protecting your own hard earned bastions of power. May I remind all here that three years from now we, all of us, will be totally irrelevant. Your power bases will no longer exist. The world itself will not exist. So as Ed Harris said in Houston mission control in the film of the Apollo 13 aborted moon landing in 1970, ‘Work the problem people’.
There was an uneasy pause in the proceedings as the gathering pondered the words of the President and their role in the foreshortened history of the world over the next three years.
Richards turned his attention to the Russian contingent. Their representative had been very quiet throughout the discussions.
“General Romanov, what’s Russia’s position in all this?”
The military man’s English was easily understood, though there was a strong underlying hint of what Buck considered to be a rather attractive language. Even when faced with the probability of world annihilation the Russian could not resist the legacy of over a hundred years of social indoctrination since the early twentieth century revolution; nor the opportunity to express it in front of such an eminent gathering.
“As you know Mister Richards Russia has always been a peace loving country which strives to ensure the equality and wellbeing of all its citizens.”
There were glances of disbelief between most of the assembly who struggled not to bite at what was clearly an inappropriate propaganda statement.
Romanov shuffled uneasily in his chair. He felt obliged to speak as his leaders would have expected, but his words did not necessarily reflect his own views. He was clearly an educated man who recognised the situation for what it was. There was no longer any mileage to be gained from maintaining the party line. He continued after the room settled.
“The human race is faced with the greatest challenge of its entire history. It would be foolish of any nation not to co-operate one hundred per cent with all other efforts to avoid its extinction. However, I do not have the authority to commit my country to a strategy which would inevitably require a full and open exchange of all our science, technology and space capabilities.”
Richards was exasperated by the response.
“Well General Romanov, if you don’t want to be part of this endeavour we will have to go it alone; or maybe our Chinese and European friends will be more realistic and obliging.”
The Presidents remarks were a clear and conscious effort to put pressure on one of the most powerful nations on the European Continent and historically one of his country’s greatest adversaries. Romanov was horrified that his country would be judged to be so intransigent; not to mention the thought which was forming in his mind that there would be no Russians included in the exodus. He was nothing if not a forward thinking man. He rushed to his own defence.
“Mister Richards, I did not say that Russia would not want to be involved, simply that I did not have the authority to make that commitment. I am sure that when I return with your proposals to Moscow my country will co-operate fully.”
“Good…that’s good General Romanov. I never had any such doubt but that we would be in this together. Please convey my gratitude in advance to your leaders.”
There was a combined sigh of relief around the room. Even though General Armstrong was inwardly sceptical of the arrangement he kept his reservations to himself; at least for the time being.
“Mister Chung, do we also have your country’s full support?”
The representative of the National People’s Congress of China was equally capable in the English language, but he spoke it with a distinct slur, as if he had one too many tipples of rice wine, or their most widely consumed baijiu liquor. His response was more pragmatic and in keeping with the Chinese tradition of being the world’s oldest and greatest philosophers.
“Mr Richards, you have made the case succinctly and with great persuasion. In the face of such a world catastrophe there is no option other than to try the only course available to us. But like my Russian counterpart here I too need to report back to Congress. I have little doubt that in the circumstances they too will agree to your scheme.”
“Thank you Mister Chung. I never expected anything less from such a great nation. We look forward to your full co-operation.” said Richards, gratefully.
It was not for no good reason that he was President of the world’s greatest democracy and so well respected. His diplomatic skill in the face of a crisis was just one of the tools in his arsenal. Having obtained the co-operation of the other two most powerful nations he turned his attention to one closer to home.
“Mister Bourbon, do I need to ask?”
“No Monsieur, the member states of the European Space Agency will be behind you all the way. I’m sure there will be no problem in finding the funds when we all explain the position and outline your plan to our various governments. After all what else will there be to spend the money on? I presume your country’s so-called special relationship with the UK will result in the same support even though they are no longer members of the EU.”
Until now Jonathan Hopkins, the Prime Minister’s Special Envoy, had demonstrated typical British reserve and remained in thoughtful silence throughout the whole proceedings. Richards now turned his attention to him.
“Ah Jonathan, last, but not least eh.”
“Rick, we’ve been skinning our knuckles on each other for several years for the benefit of the rest of the world’s observers; each trying to maintain our independent identity whilst all the while living in each others pockets. I think it’s time we saved our skin and put all our efforts into saving humanity’s. You will find us fully supportive as usual. After all we do have the man with the key to the whole thing. If the rest of the world is prepared to look after all his needs then we will back you to the hilt.”
Richards smiled and nodded approvingly in the British Envoy’s direction. Hopkins was not finished. He did have to voice a problem which if the truth was known had been on the lips of all those around the table since the exodus plan had been outlined by Buck.
“Rick, the technical problems may be overcome, even as difficult as they are, but there is something more fundamental which needs to be addressed.”
“Ah, the first of many problems I presume.” said Richards, as the rest of the assembly pricked up their ears.
“What is it Jonathan?”
“Well if we can get ten thousand people off the planet to relative safety…who decides who goes and who stays to face their maker?”
“Ah that’s a real conundrum. I don’t suppose you have an answer?”
“Well I have some vague ideas, but it’s a very tricky subject which needs careful consideration. For instance, I’m sure everyone in this room would expect to be included, but that just isn’t going to happen. We need to be super objective about the selection process. After all these peo
ple are going to be the foundation of the human race mark two which hopefully will last far into the future. It’s early doors as they say in betting circles in the UK, but it would do no harm to seek the views of those around the table.”
“You have a knack of hitting the nail on the head Jonathan. It is a subject which cannot be left unanswered for long. Does anyone have any initial thoughts?”
With a sweeping gesture of his arms the President invited comments. The first to respond was Buck.
“Well Mister President it is indeed a tricky subject and one which I would not like to take sole responsibility for in addition to the main task you have set me. It’s clear that those who go should be the best of what we’ve got in nearly all walks of life. If such a community is to survive up there they will need all their skills combined in total co-operation not only to endure, but also to ensure the ongoing life of The Cube. There will be no room for hangers-on and so-called celebrities…nor billionaires and oligarchs who will expect a ride simply because they can afford it.”
The room fell silent yet again and many glances passed around as the reality of Buck’s remarks struck home. No one was to be automatically included simply because they were present right now in the inner circle.
Richards had listened carefully to Buck’s entreaty and after a few moments of thought, and repeated chin stroking, he looked Buck directly in the eye.
“You’re right Buck, but how do you suggest we go about it?”
Buck was very much aware of the sensitivity of the upcoming relationship between himself and the head of NASA. If he was to acquire the full and unhindered co-operation of Carl Gambiadini he would need to ensure he and his organisation were fully involved and played a pivotal role in the exodus.
“Well Mister President we already have the makings of a selection process which has served us well since the beginning of our exploration of space. In fact all our new space partners have corresponding procedures for identifying the finest of their respective populations. I’m referring of course to NASA’s astronaut selection program.
They have first hand experience of the qualifications required for space flight. And to date we have witnessed the fact that selection is not only restricted to military personnel, but has included scientists, politicians, journalists and even tourists. I suggest we hand the selection process over to Carl and his associates.”
Buck glanced in the direction of Gambiadini as he concluded his proposition. A broad smile lit up the NASA man’s face which told him he had gained the respect and full co-operation of the man whose authority had earlier been threatened.
Richards caught the body language between the two men.
“Well that’s settled then. Carl, will you implement the program immediately. Find the world’s best and get them ready for the adventure of their lives…with the help of our new-found partners of course.” he added hurriedly, glancing in the direction of General Romanov, Mister Chung and Pierre Bourbon.
They each nodded their acceptance and appreciation of their inclusion in the selection process. It would ensure their respective cultures were guaranteed a chance to endure.
President Richards was keen to wind up the proceedings. A lot had already been achieved and though there was obviously a great deal more to be done he felt the need for a breather after which fresh thinking could be applied.
“Okay, that seems to be it for now unless anyone has something to add.”
He looked around the room invitingly, but there was no response.
“Okay people, thank you for attending at such short notice. You all know the situation and what is expected of you. Go to it. General Armstrong, would you give me a minute please?”
The General was apprehensive, but did as asked and held back while the room cleared. Joan remained in case she was needed to produce any transcripts of whatever was to be discussed. It was force of habit. Mike McConnell hovered expectantly. He felt the FBI needed to know all that was going on; particularly at this critical moment in history.
“Just me and the General please.” said Richards, firmly.
General Armstrong waited patiently while the two left the room. He was anticipating a bollocking after his earlier protestations. The doors closed and Richards invited the General to sit opposite him.
“Clyde, we’ve known each other a long time and over the years we’ve both defended our territory vigorously and clashed more than once, but I think the score is even. I have to tell you I wholeheartedly respect your patriotism and allegiance to our country; it goes without question.”
The general nodded appreciatively at the unexpected accolade, but still thought it was the calm before the storm; while Richards searched for the words he was looking for.
“Clyde to say we live in difficult times would be the most understated observation in the entire history of the world. Never…never have we been faced with the dangers which are about to befall us and I don’t just mean the final strike. Within twenty four hours there won’t be a person on the planet who doesn’t know what is going to happen in three years time.”
Armstrong shifted uneasily in his chair. He was about to respond when Richards raised his hand indicating there was more.
“Clyde, I can only guess at how it will be received. Can you even begin to imagine the worldwide panic it is likely to cause? Anarchy, lawlessness, total apathy and non co-operation…who knows what? I certainly don’t. We have never been faced with such an apocalyptic event before. I don’t quite know how to put this but…”
General Armstrong stood, almost to attention.
“Mister President you don’t need to say any more. I know my duty and will do my level best to carry it out. I and my command will do everything possible to keep a lid on whatever occurs.”
“Thank you General. I never doubted you for a second. You have a lot to do. Feel free to go and do whatever you think is necessary. There will be no recriminations. We must not lose control.”
General Armstrong saluted his Commander in Chief, turned smartly and left Richards alone with his thoughts.
***
THE CUBE.
ONE week later an emergency meeting was convened at the headquarters of the Ford Motor Company in Dearborn near Detroit, Michigan. Those present were Jacob Corby CEO of Ford and Matt Montgomery Chairman of the Boeing Aircraft Company from their headquarters in Chicago Illinois.
Also at the gathering were Buck, Ringo and NASA’s Carl Gambiadini who had brought with them President Richards’ trusted Representative John Devine from the Government Appropriations Committee. The only woman present was Joan Oliveira whom President Richards had sent to keep a record of the proceedings and report back directly to him.
Corby opened the proceedings in a rather gruff fashion; not to mention apathetic resignation. He, like everyone else, had by now heard all the soul destroying details of what lay ahead in the short term future of the world.
He was also aware of the audacious plan to evacuate as many as possible in The Cube which had yet to be designed and built. He had described it to those around him as ‘a monstrosity which had no redeeming features in terms of appearance’. It was an obvious observation from a man whose company produced motor vehicles with eye catching sleek designs.
“Well Mister Buchanan, I hear you’re the man who started all this mess. What can we do for you…as if I didn’t know already?”
Corby was not at the head of one of the greatest companies in the world without having earned his lofty rank. He was an astute, well educated man capable of anticipating problems and dealing with them resourcefully before the consequences became unredeemable.
Buck sighed heavily at the accusation. He was hardly the one who caused the impending doom, just the one to announce its discovery. If anyone was to blame in that context it was actually Charlie. It was he who had first spotted the anomaly way out in the Asteroid Belt via the Hubble ‘scope. He resigned himself to the fact he would only have to live with the notoriety for another three years.
“Well Mister Corby…gentlemen, I would be amazed if men in your position had not guessed the purpose of this meeting, so we’ll cut to the chase. There is no time to waste on the niceties of etiquette. In the great scheme of cosmic time it won’t be long before Ceres reaches us. The clock is ticking.”
The remark caused Corby and Montgomery to sit up and be more attentive. They both knew in their hearts it was not Buck’s fault, but they also knew the future was limited and any effort to save the planet was probably futile. They also had no detail of the Cube and in the absence of such they were equally pessimistic about the deliverance of humanity.
This was a sales pitch which Buck just had to win. If his plan was to have any hope at all he would need the full co-operation of these men and their organisations.
“Gentlemen, at the end of 1941 America reluctantly became directly involved in the worst conflict in the entire history of the world. It was a man-made atrocity which was not of their doing and their entry was forced upon them by the indiscriminate surprise attack on Pearl Harbour. The assault on December 7th 1941 killed not only two thousand four hundred naval and army personnel, but also sixty eight civilians, with many more injured.”
Buck paused for the significance to sink in. None of those present were even born eighty five years previously to have witnessed the effect the attack had on the population, but it was obvious the memory of it, as so reported and recorded in history, was still raw. After a few seconds of thoughtful silence he continued.
“America, as always, reacted to that infamous attack in the only way it knows how. It mobilised its not inconsiderable industrial might behind a response which would ensure a successful outcome in its favour. Car production was suspended and the factory facilities turned over to the building of Jeeps and other army vehicles. Ford played a major part in that aspect of the war effort.”
Buck gave his small audient a few moments to consider where he was leading. They knew what was coming, but let him continue uninterrupted.