Dawn of Hope- Exodus

by Dobrin Kostadinov

  ‘Here they come, the heroes of the New World, ready to do anything for us, the ordinary people,’ a colleague of mine from the National TV spoke passionately in front of the camera. We can now see them climbing aboard the spacecraft and we’re anticipating the countdown, so we can enjoy the moment,’ the reporter went on excitedly.

  One by one they entered into the machine after they waved goodbye to the cameras and the people observing in the distance and to the reporter drones circling around at a safe distance. Once they were inside the aircraft, they proceeded to the safety measures. They sat down, buckled in and started checking the landing gear. And the gear–there was plenty of it. Some part of it served to measure the temperature, other parts gauged pressure, yet a third group consisting of known and unknown parts took care of the rest. Everything needed to be checked even though it had been prepared before they had stepped into the shuttle.

  Still Iris 1 was the epitome of the genius conceptions in technologies; a last push on the part of scientists and engineers to try and save human kind and themselves. Those were the people who would stay in the shadow of the astronauts, but their work was every bit as significant as that of the chosen ones.

  The pre-flight check was not their sole responsibility. The better part of it was conducted from the control room where the technical staff waited, no less overexcited than everyone else. The people in that room were more nervous due to the power blackout that had taken place shortly before the launch, but everything had been put under control in time. The spectators were talking and waiting outside when they heard: “Go for autosequence start, go for engines start.” Everyone turned around that very second and watched without parting their eyes from what was happening. The seven bravehearts inside were feeling tense. Mila did not forget to wish the others a successful end of the mission.

  ‘Successful mission and good luck to all of us, friends, the rest we have.”

  The mission was on.

  Ten, nine, eight . . . and so on down to one . . . The shuttle was already accelerating. At first it did it slowly and gracefully, then it increased to a speed that was to take it out of the atmosphere. Everyone’s eyes were on the beautiful launching shuttle, some were even gaping, running the risk of an insect entering their mouths. It was a miracle made by human hands–both as creative and as destructive as they get . . .

  ‘We’re leaving the Earth’s atmosphere and switching the plasma engine to the manipulator,’ Hiroshi started giving a sum-up status of the flight.

  ‘Main thruster increases power and continues to function normally; we’re lifting away from the Earth’s orbit,’ came as a response Liu’s voice.

  Once they were at a safe distance, they turned off the secondary thrusters and set the space manipulator to work. All of a sudden and without leaving a trace, the machine disappeared from the satellites’ field of vision and from the base’s communication range. The travel was going to last two days, but the duration of the stay was unknown. One way or another, they were well stocked up with provisions. What was going to actually happen? Were they going to find what they were looking for or were they going to die trying? Only one thing changed from that moment on. For the first time human kind headed towards distant stars, beyond our solar system, and as a whole away from our place in the Galaxy . . .

  Chapter Three

  Right or Wrong?

  During the preparations for the mission were taking place, away from the processes that had seized the air base, started a wave of unrest, unseen for decades. The people at the time were, for the most part, intelligent creatures who preferred the peaceful way to achieving change, but they could no longer bear the choking burden on the planet. Much as the world’s organizations and leaders tried, they could not do a thing. Circumstances were going to bring the states to a downfall any moment now and feeding the population and supplying basic commodities were gradually growing into a task beyond the edge of the possible. There was no place they could take any resources from so as to meet the growing needs of the people. Disobedience was not at all out of the picture and it threatened to turn into a civil war a few weeks or months down the road. No one could predict it. Logically enough, people began organizing protests all over the globe, a mass discontent that in fact proved slightly pointless as everyone knew those in power were up to their ears in unsolvable problems and they were sinking even deeper–an inheritance from previous governments. Things had long ago spiraled out of control and the possibility of dealing with the impending issues was slowly fading away right before the eyes of the politicians and their advisers. Ordinary people were well aware the world had reached a dead end, but no one could force the crowd to remain silent anymore, there simply was no power in the world to keep it at bay. At first a decision was made to pressure the authorities to carry out the exodus plan more adequately and quickly, but later on things were going to deepen beyond recognition. We were going to leave the planet, as though we were fleeing from a leprosy-ridden, empty world in which we had never been born and in which we had never lived. What a pity . . .

  About 120 days passed in a world discontent. From mid-January when the mission trainings began until May 17 when the shuttle was launched the tension had grown exponentially. In the last days before the launch they had changed avalanche-like, taking violence, uprisings and disobedience to the utmost limit; later on all that enthusiasm for change sank into oblivion.

  Right before the end of the mission trainings there were escalations, killings, people trampled to death, children and mothers beaten up for disobeying. Rubber bullets were used from time to time to disperse the ranks of the ever growing community of protesters. The Near East, Central and South America started to look more and more like battle fields due to the ultra-large number of outright extremists, leading the mounting unrest. It was precisely in those situations that the security forces used armor-piercing bullets in neutralizing the vehicles hired to carry out terroristic attacks on those in power–all that brought about a headlong rise in the death toll. In places like Iraq and Syria the organizers of the uprisings were granted authority greater than that of state authorities. That particular time window was perfect for disguising the activity of a specific group of people; what was actually happening behind the scenes of the public discontent and who was the person taking advantage of it was yet to come to light . . .

  At the same time the newly formed group Al Nadir benefitted from the current situation and took charge of the East Liberation Front without anyone suspecting it. Commander-in-Chief of Al Nadir was General Omar Saadi, officer from the Iranian army. A man of medium height, slightly swarthy complexion with thick dark hair and approaching his fifties, he was prepared to go to any lengths to achieve his goals. One of them, if not the most significant one, was to give a chance for life not only to the rich who were willing to pay to ditch the Earth but also to the ordinary people who were deprived of that option. That though plagued his everyday life on a regular basis and he had no idea what to do about it.

  Saadi was not into terroristic attacks, in reality he was a good man who worked to serve the interests of his country, but the question was for how much longer? One day a stranger was going to present to him an idea that only he could take advantage of as one of the most influential people in the whole of Asia. In a kingdom of chaos and ruin, hidden behind the public discontent, he began the preparation of something beautiful which was going to leave a mark in history and was going to be the talk of the world for quite some time. His mistrustful character allowed him to let in only a handful of people, but he was perfectly satisfied by that number. With time the only two things that proved of importance to him were his family and the plan he was tirelessly working on to develop. Over the last few months before the launch General Saadi met repeatedly with a stranger named Dimitar Milev who became his right-hand man with time. His most trusted man managed to open his eyes by making him see through all the cruel injustice that seemed to be flowing around them unnoticed.

  Mr.
Milev, as most people called him, was born in Bulgaria, a small country in Eastern Europe of whose existence I was not aware. He looked a great deal like a Russian because of his typical Slavic features, but despite that there was something different about him. It could have been some streak common to the inhabitants of the Balkan Peninsula. A man in his late thirties, graduated from the Military Academy as a cadet, at that time he was ready to obey the orders of his mentor and friend. He finished first in his class and took a degree with a rank of lieutenant. He had spent 8 years in the European army, as a detective in NATO to be more precise, but after his contract had terminated, he decided to resign and look for something more intriguing. Something he could start and finish, managing to develop it to its full potential. Such a chance he succeeded to find only in the private security sector. Or better yet, in the face of an idea he himself conceived of, yet one that needed Omar’s helping hand to reach full completion. The Balkan was a tall, blue-eyed man with short chestnut hair and oval face – the image of the main player on General Saadi’s chess-board. He introduced to the General a rather ambitious idea that required a serious investment of time, skills and money. What piqued Saadi’s interest regarding that endeavor was the information Dimitar gave him which was directly related to the spaceships built for the exodus to the newly found planet.

  But let us go three months back in time when the six researchers from Eisenhower had just made their first steps into their training regime and routine. The date: February 19, the event: an unexpected phone call.

  ‘Hello, General Saadi. It’s Dimitar Milev.’

  ‘Hello, Mr. Milev, how are you?’ he answered the call, a little surprised, for he and the Bulgarian had seen each other again only a few times. They had met at a reception, hosted by a mutual acquaintance of theirs who was Milev’s subordinate in the security field.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ he said, keeping it short and sweet, and went on. ‘I know it strikes as a bit odd to call you out of the blue, but I have a piece of intriguing information which, from I know about you, could be of serious interest to you. Do you want us to meet so that I can impart it with you?’

  ‘As long as you believe I’ll be interested, you’re welcome in my office, you know where it is,’ he said, inviting Milev with a tinge of skepticism, for he did not feel like handling the next insignificant person, looking for self-expression opportunities.

  ‘I’m not in Iran right now, but I’ll be there in two days. Goodbye for now,’ Milev said and ended the call.

  The Iranian was taken aback by the quick hang-up on the other end of the line, it was as though the Bulgarian fellow was in a hurry–that sparked Omar’s interest even further.

  Two days later, shortly after Saadi’s working hours were over, the East European really popped up in his office. They shook hands and sat down after they had closed the door, thus assuring themselves no one could listen in.

  ‘Would you like a drink, Lieutenant, I have a wonderful Scottish whiskey. They brought it to me a week ago; it uses a new bottling technology that simulates the aging of the alcohol, making it taste like it’s spent decades in the cellar. The technologists say this one here is sixty-years-old,’ Omar took up.

  ‘Why not, I’ll take a sip,’ he said and helped himself to a glass. A bit of alcohol was exactly what they needed to break the ice. After he poured himself about a quarter of a pint from the alcoholic beverage, he sat opposite the Iranian and started the important conversation he had come to have.

  ‘You addressed me by my military title, that doesn’t happen to me often, especially now that I’m moving in different circles and working in the private sector,’ Dimitar shared.

  ‘Your military title remains with you for the rest of your life whether you like it or not,’ Saadi answered.

  The Bulgarian gave it a thought and realized that was really true and much as he tried, he could not escape from his past. He held his breath for a while to summon his strength and share a secret that he could be tried in court for and even go to a maximum security prison for the rest of his days. Yet, words spilled easily out of his mouth one after the other.

  ‘I’m here to talk about something highly classified. I’ve come in possession of information from a close friend of mine which has to do with something I know is a desire of yours.’

  ‘A desire of mine?’ Omar said, bewildered, slightly angry. ‘How come you know what I want? You think you know me, but I doubt that.’

  ‘Listen to me first,’ Milev tried to continue. ‘At the receptions your good friend and my ex-employer, Abdul, held, I heard you say you wanted to do something about the upcoming exodus. You spoke about how you wished more people to travel to the new planet–more of your fellow countrymen and more people from the neighboring countries to get a chance to do it, yet are fit for the endeavor. As I was listening to you talking about it, I saw you get sad and I felt your grief. Don’t try to hide it, there’s no point.’

  After what Milev declared, the Iranian officer had no other choice but to admit the veracity of the statement.

  ‘That’s true. I feel pity for the people around me who will probably form part of the last wave that will set off for the new planet, but the question is what happens until their turn comes . . . I think it’s clear to all of us. I’ve always worked for the sake of my people and I’m dying on the inside knowing all this and not being able to do anything about it. Despite my influence and power it’s killing me that everything begins with Europe, North America and Eastern Asia while the countries from the Near East are left at the tail. I can afford to pay and leave with my entire family with the first wave because of the connections I have, but I won’t have any peace of mind, knowing that my people will probably be rotting here long after.’

  Omar uttered some heavy words although things were not exactly as he pictured them.

  ‘Well, you have the chance to change all that because you’re a good person, moreover you’re probably the only one who’s brave and capable enough to do it,’ Dimitar said, instantly capturing the attention of the Iranian.

  ‘But how? How can I change the situation? The destiny of the people around me, and not just theirs, is determined by other people. People who have hatched their own plan of the mechanics of the exodus and of the ones who will go to Menoetius,’ said the General, bewildered.

  ‘Listen to me very carefully and you’ll understand. There’re five spaceships waiting for the exodus to get a green light. As you know they’re stored at four of the largest military bases and there’re building more ships right now, but the construction will take some more time. We’re all waiting for the research agents to take off for the new planet on May 17 and those same colossal vehicles will be fitted with machines for building up infrastructure and for extracting resources from the new land. There will be numerous teams of engineers as well as maintenance personnel and crew; the remaining vacant places will be filled with people. But they won’t be just random somebodies! I want you to hear me loud and clear and get right what I’m about to tell you because your information and hopes seem to be out of date.’ Those words sent chills down the General’s spine. ‘Apart from the crew, the other passengers won’t be chosen randomly as most people thought. It’ll be nearly impossible for an ordinary person to get on board. Not everyone who has the money to pay would go. The money will be accepted only from those who have had a share in the financing of the building of the ships. It’s sad, but these are the facts. Only the wealthiest ones will have the opportunity to settle down and then they will just watch us die slowly from the far end of the Universe.’ Omar was shocked by Milev’s assertions. ‘A world-wide initiative has been reduced to a vitiated circle. Not to mention the declarations the UN has adopted and signed. They will be implemented dawdlingly and I’m not sure if they will get ratified on time, let alone be of any use. You’re saying you can use your connections to pay and go together with your family. Well, I can’t be certain it’ll happen, but good luck with that. These rules have been
in effect for two weeks now, they’re hard and fast and strictly observed. I’ll be happy for you if you can go, but I don’t think it’ll work.’ After hearing that Omar froze into place and refused to believe his ears.

  ‘Is all of that true? Don’t play games with me, you’ll regret it!’ Omar snapped and, angry at the news, started pacing nervously back and forth in the room.

  ‘If you don’t believe me, you can check for yourself, I received the information from a reliable source, besides I think that if you research the matter, you’ll get the same result,’ the Balkan confirmed the terrifying facts.

  ‘Everything seemed fine and about to turn out all right and now the money of the bureaucrats are in play here again.’

  ‘As I stated earlier, you have the opportunity to change that.’

  ‘How? What should I do? If everything is as you say, then there’s nothing I can do. Or at least I can’t think of anything in specific,’ he uttered in despair and clasped his hands at the back of his head.

  ‘Would you mind if we drop the formalities,’ Dimitar made an attempt to get closer to the Iranian officer who was already irritated to outer limit.

  ‘I don’t,’ he told his interlocutor.

  ‘You have the power, the men, and the connections to do something grand which is justified on top of that. You just have to want it enough and it will happen.’

  ‘What do you propose?’ he inquired intrigued by Milev’s cryptic hints.

  ‘We’ll take over the bases, we’ll take the spaceships and we’ll go settle on the planet. If everything turns out all right, we’ll come back with resources and under our command and pressure they will start building new machines for a mass exodus. Everyone could go thanks to us because the bureaucrats think only about themselves and they’ll leave us, common folk, spend the rest of our lives here in disgrace, helpless,’ the Bulgarian shared, careworn.