‘I’m pleased you brought the Worcester Sauce Miranda. Tomato juice without it is like Welsh Rarebit without the cheese!’
Richard and Miranda looked aghast at each other. The same thought crossed their minds. Is this a prelude to outrage or his way of defusing an embarrassing blunder?
Ransome looked up.
‘Miranda, you are forgiven,’ he said, smiling. ‘Please go and see if you can find a fresh pair of trousers in my luggage. If there aren’t any there, please ask the chief pilot if he has a spare pair, he’s about same size as me.’
He turned to face Richard.
‘Now,’ he said. ‘Tell me everything about your time on Terra Nova. You probably know I’m testing a space ship named Pristine Galactica which is due to go into service in a few years time?’
He received a nod from Richard.
‘And I also head a company whose objective is to determine what can be done to save Earth from the effects of global warming. We have much in common Richard, so why don’t we utilise the time available until we reach Kyoto? We appear to have the same objective; so let’s have a chat and see if we can agree upon some solutions to the problems facing Earth!’
Richard nodded again. ‘I am delighted to have this opportunity to acquire your support and experience. God knows, I’m going to need it!’
Ransome looked squarely into Richard’s eyes.
‘Oh, just a word of caution,’ he said. ‘Although I’m actively supporting those scientists who insist global warming is a proven fact, I do harbour some niggling reservations. What about you Richard, are you as committed as you would have us believe?’
Before Richard could answer, Miranda arrived carrying a pair of grey trousers. She handed them over and turned away, eyes-wide, embarrassed.
Ransome was already on his feet, stripped to his dark-blue boxer shorts.
‘Let’s hope they fit,’ he said, grinning.
Hoisting the trousers to his waist, he zipped the fly closed and flopped back into his seat.
‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘Now where were we?’
***
Julia Brownstone and her son Alexander are unhappy. Alexander’s father has become so distanced from them since setting out upon his quest to save Earth from the consequences of its inhabitant’s profligacy, that they rarely see or speak of him. Alexander’s occasional sighting of his father’s image in a magazine, a newspaper or on a television screen is the only time when a tiny flicker of interest is raised. The excitement of those heady days when Richard returned to Earth amid so much pomp and fanfare, has subsided to become a longing for someone free of the fetlocks of fame; a father who returns home each evening from a day’s work, who tucks his son into bed, who reads exciting stories of super heroes, of Batman and Robin, of Pooh Bear and Tigger; a father whose weekends are spent having fun with those closest to him. Sadly, none of these paternal pursuits have been enacted in recent months because of the obsequiousness of instant fame. Richard Moss is, to his partner and son, a caricature of a dad.
They have frequent conversations about how it might have been, had things turned out differently. But those conversations only serve to sour the taste of a home life that could have been, but for the intervention of fate. Marriage, something Julia and Richard were set upon, is now a distant dream, a promise of something to come once Richard’s task is complete. Meanwhile Alexander is maturing into an intelligent young lad, a boy whose future appeared assured from the day when his father stepped back onto Earth and welcomed him with open arms.
The telephone in the flat where Julia and Alexander share their lives buzzed into life. Alexander rushed to pick up the receiver, shouting as he ran. ’Mummy, it’s daddy! I know it’s daddy’
Julia intercepted her son. Picked up the receiver herself. ‘Alexander, stop jumping up and down; what makes you think it’s daddy?’
A laugh resounded on the line as Julia placed the receiver to her ear. ‘Alexander’s right, it is me!’
Alexander was now leaping with delight.
‘It is daddy,’ said Julia, loud enough for her son to hear. ‘Richard, where are you? We’re so worried about you and you never let us know where you are or what you are doing! Alexander is...’
Richard butted in. ‘I’m really sorry Jules. Things have been so hectic and, I know it’s no excuse, I just don’t get a minute to myself. I’m on a plane right now heading for Japan and guess who I met?’
Julia answered with obvious disinterest, ‘Tell me.’
‘William Ransome, the guy who owns Pristine, you know, the airline I’m flying with! He sat down next to me and we chatted for an hour or so, you know, mainly about global warming but a host of other things. Although he said he’s not completely convinced, he’s going to support me until proven, one way or the other.’
Julia’s interest was aroused. ‘That’s really encouraging,’ she said, sounding as if she meant it.
‘But, Oh, you won’t believe this,’ said Richard. ‘we had to break off because he heard from one of the crew that his main house on one of the Caribbean islands has been struck by lightning and was burned to the ground; it’s a total write-off! He’s on the phone now to his wife and kids who were asleep in the house next door. Isn’t it ironic that a guy, who’s absolutely gung ho about doing what he can to support nature, gets his house destroyed by nature, via a random bolt of lightning?’
‘Oh my God!’ answered Julia, ‘What a shock that must have been. Was anyone hurt?’
‘That’s all I know right now, but no doubt we’ll hear more when he gets back. It’s such a pity because he seems to be a really nice guy. We get on really well.’
Julia shrieked and wrenched the receiver away from her ear as the received issued a piercing, crackling, screeching noise. Richard’s voice became lost in a cacophony of electronic mayhem.
‘I’ll call you when... ’ The phone went dead.
Julia stared in disbelief and frustration at the now silent receiver. Alexander began sobbing.
‘I didn’t talk to my daddy,’ he whimpered, wiping tears from his cheeks. ‘I don’t think he loves me any more!’
***
The three days spent in Kyoto were “little more than useful”. At least those were the words that William Ransome used, when summing up the outcome of Richard Moss’s efforts to enforce the original Kyoto Protocol and its binding targets for 37 industrialized countries, and others in the European Community; the aim being the reduction of greenhouse gas emissions.
Richard had welcomed the support of Ransome at the historic meeting, but the majority of the delegates were not prepared to accept responsibility for greenhouse gas emissions in their respective countries. The arguments were the same as those raised at the original conference.
“It is not the country I represent that is causing the problem, but countries like the USA, China and India who have to abide by the Protocol and act accordingly.” To quote the words of one irritated delegate.
Richard’s much vaunted power of persuasion appeared to be declining and this was worrying. Unless he was able to persuade those who refused to accept his exhortations, The Creator would intervene and compel Richard to use other, more forceful, powers which were lying dormant within him; these powers only to be utilised when it became obvious that the sand in the hour-glass of time available to save Earth, was on the point of running out.
The dreams relayed from Terra Nova were invading his every sleeping session. They showed, in terrifying detail, how Earth would be ravaged. Scenes of ferocious hurricanes, rampaging tornados, overwhelming tsunamis, and cataclysmic earthquakes were breathtaking. The penultimate chapter was brought about by four massive volcanoes spurting forth endless seas of all-enveloping lava from deep within the very centre of Earth. The final chapter was short. The world’s oceans rose to unprecedented Great Flood levels. Why t
his occurred was not revealed.
However, the dreams left him in no doubt that his task was entering its final phase.
Chapter Seventy One
Quintus Claudius Avitus, the newly appointed Great Leader, is distraught at the way events on Earth are leading inexorably towards its destruction. His forebears were involved in exactly the same circumstances when their version of Earth was swamped to near extinction by the Great Flood ten millennia ago. A mass migration to Terra Nova followed, and now history is about to be repeated unless something extraordinary is enacted.
A meeting of the Council of Ministers was in session to discuss what, if anything, can be done to assist Richard Moss. The euphoria, encouragingly evident, when Richard returned from his time on Terra Nova, has been replaced by widespread, puerile apathy, senseless criticism and pervasive, blithe dismissal of the indisputable fact that Earth was in imminent danger of destruction.
‘What can we do to help Richard Moss?’ asked Quintus, who was on his feet facing the assembled ministers. The expression etched on his face was one of utmost concern. There was no immediate response. He repeated his question. Noah Tulius Cicero, recently appointed as Minister for Inter-Galactic Affairs, raised a tentative arm and rose to his feet.
‘Great Leader,’ he said, straightening his shoulders. ‘I have been constantly in touch with Richard Moss through dream transference and, sadly, I fear the worst. At the outset of his mission he was strong and confident; the power of persuasion afforded the ability to command respect and helped convert intransigent minds and opinions. Unfortunately, that is no longer happening.’
He paused momentarily before continuing. ‘I have been giving the problem considerable thought and have a proposal to put before you which may assist Richard in the successful completion of his mission.’
Quintus nodded. ‘Please Noah, let us hear your proposal,’ he said.
Noah cleared his throat, picked up a glass and sipped some of its contents,
‘Thank you,’ he said, placing the glass back on the table. ‘You have been informed that Richard Moss has met a very influential businessman named William Ransome. This is a man with no political agenda. Therefore his thoughts and actions are not influenced by political considerations or ramifications. He has several existing businesses that are wholly concerned with preserving, recycling and renewing Earth’s dwindling resources. Respect for his unrelenting efforts has grown throughout Earth, mainly because he doesn’t seek funding from governmental sources. His environment-friendly businesses are entirely self supporting. To sum up, William Ransome is uniquely qualified to assist Richard. Consequently I propose we all consider what we can do to assist this extraordinary man.’
Quintus looked impressed.
‘Thank you Noah,’ he said, ‘There is certainly much to be considered in your proposal. However, before we begin discussing it, does anyone else have anything to add?’
Amos Caelius Aquila, brother of the deceased Great Leader, held up an arm. ‘Only that I heartily endorse Noah’s proposal. The question is, what needs to be done to implement it?’
Quintus gestured towards a now seated Noah. ‘Have you thought beyond your proposal and considered what needs to be done in order for it to be of utility at this critical time for our troubled brethren on Earth?’
Noah rose to his feet again.
‘The first thing to do,’ he replied. ‘is to convince Ransome that nature’s wrath and mankind’s thoughtless activities are the sole reasons for Earth’s impending demise. Then we must endow him with the power of persuasion. Finally, we must make him aware, through means of dream sequences that The Creator’s benevolence is close to breaking point. Time is a rapidly diminishing commodity. Effective action, now, is the only way to deflect The Creator’s wrath. We are only too aware of the consequences of failure to act. Unfortunately, our forefathers ignored nature’s warning signs and the destruction of their version of Earth followed. I therefore propose we proceed before it is too late.’
Chapter Seventy Two
Not only is the Earth’s future at risk due to failure to respect and renew its resources but another major crisis is unfolding with frenetic speed. The United States of America is in deep financial trouble, followed closely by five of the 17 countries in the eurozone. Greece is teetering on the brink of bankruptcy, with Portugal, Italy, Ireland and Spain following the same course, unless immediate action is introduced to halt the slide to insolvency. A meeting of the 27 EU leaders ended in nationalistic acrimony with the German Chancellor, Ellen Berkel, storming off centre stage while muttering the German word for “conflict”. Christian Hollandaise, President of France, caused a dangerous rise in Berkel’s blood pressure by mocking her over taking a second helping of cheese while at a retirement party for European Central Bank chief Jean-Pierre Trouchet. Instead of Europe’s leaders bonding in an attempt to save the euro, they are immersed in petty arguments and juvenile name calling. What hope is there for Earth’s future when, in the midst of most catastrophic period in its history, Europe’s leaders resort to the exchange of childish insults?
Richard Moss and William Ransome are not amused. Pristine Television’s European office, located in the centre of Brussels, a mere hundred metres from the European Union’s state-of-the-art headquarters, is alive with anticipation. Eight of his most important staff are grouped around a table the size of a mini-battle cruiser. Richard Moss is seated beside Ransome, as a demoralising flow of news reaches them via international television coverage and the world’s wire services. Richard is the first to put into words his sense of outrage at the inability of experienced leaders to agree on something as simple as to how much cheese is to be eaten!
‘What are we to do if these,’ he said. ‘these, idiotic politicians continue to argue and, and trade ridiculous insults instead of attempting to come up with a viable and lasting solution to their problems?’
He looked at Ransome, frustration causing his words to tumble out in disjointed confusion. Ransome, his flowing blonde hair and beard seemingly under the influence of an electrical stimulus, shook his head in accord. He waited several moments, and sighed deeply before replying.
‘Politicians,’ he said, contempt curling his upper lip. ‘They lack the nous to reach agreement among their peers because of Europe’s war-torn history and a host of other jingoistic reasons. Damn it, now is not the time for personal points scoring. Here we are on the brink of disaster and all they do is argue about meaningless trivialities. We have to step in, bang a few heads together. Make them realise that time is a fast diminishing commodity. Action, now, is the only way forward. Are you with me on this Richard?’
‘Of course I am; one hundred percent. But what else can we do? Things were looking so positive when I returned from Terra Nova. Now all we see is in-fighting and a total disregard for the need to face up to and solve the massive problems besetting Earth. In my opinion we only have a matter of months left to demonstrate to The Creator that His Earth is worth saving. If the politicians won’t listen, we’ll have to circumvent them and make our appeal directly to the world’s populace.’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ answered Ransome. ‘We must make full use of all my media outlets to make people in the street aware that their political leaders are unable, unwilling even, to make and implement the hard decisions that are necessary if planet Earth is to survive.’
Ransome looked around and paused before addressing his staff who were poised, awaiting his instructions.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘This is what we do. By this time tomorrow I want all of my television stations, all my newspapers, every internet site, making it unequivocally clear that we are facing the gravest, irreversible threat to Earth’s future, unless immediate remedial action is implemented now.‘
Ransome was demonstrating, by his actions and positivity towards the cause, that he has now accepted that the reason for Earth’s environme
ntal problems was not due to global warming, but to man’s inability, unwillingness, to live together in peace and harmony.
Chapter Seventy Three
June 30, 2012 and planet Earth, orbiting the sun at sixty-five thousand miles per hour, while turning on its axis at a speed of one thousand miles per hour, appeared to be serenely at peace as three of the crew of six international astronauts stationed in the constantly orbiting, International Space Station, viewed her from the Observation Cupola, a facility mounted on the ISS in 2010. The startling, magnificent beauty of Earth, viewed from the immensity of space, never failed to impress even the most experienced of astronauts.
Vitali Pushkin, a Russian who has five ISS visits to his credit, is seated alongside an equally experienced American, James C. Thompson, while the United Kingdom’s Scott Crawford, now on his first ISS assignment, peers over their shoulders at a sight that causes his senses to race.
‘Beautiful,’ he muttered breathlessly. ‘Unbelievably beautiful. I’ve seen the most amazing photographs from taken from space, but nothing, nothing, prepared me for the real thing!’
Pushkin turned his head and peered at Crawford.
‘Vich makes it that much more difficult to understand why human beings are so damned stupid. Here we are, viewing our planet in all its majesty, marveling at its minute place in a limitless universe, while our brothers and sisters on Earth remain intent upon destroying it. Have we learned nothink from our past mistakes?’
He paused before posing another question.
‘The man who comes from Terra Nova, vot is his name... ?’
‘Moss, Richard Moss,’ answered Crawford softly.
‘Da, Moss dat is the one. He alone has the courage to stand up and tell it as it is. The Russian president, he just smiles and ignores the truth that kicks him in the face. The stupid man thinks only of Russia while ignoring the warning signs happening throughout the world. Those signs we see with increasing frequency each and every time the ISS traverses Earth.’
Terra Nova Page 28
