by M. D. Hall
Zaran made the promise, without knowing the consequences of refusal, and she never told him.
Narol applied all her energies to fulfilling her ambition. A gifted student, she was welcomed into the most prestigious university in her city, possibly the entire planet. As an undergraduate, she excelled in cultural studies and was universally considered by her tutors, to be the most remarkable academician of her generation. She was committed totally, knowing that to gain a professorship within the University, would ultimately lead to an invitation to advise the military on its acquisitions, and so place her in an ideal position to garner intelligence.
As she had predicted, within six short years of her doctorate, and as the youngest associate professor in her university, she was approached by the military to assist them, in a purely advisory capacity. While this was not a formal appointment and gave her no insight into the workings of the service, she knew, ultimately, there would be an opportunity to join the civilian arm of the Navy. Sure enough, fifteen years later, she was on active service on a flagship cruiser, evaluating cultural artefacts in advance of a military campaign. As ever, during these periods of reflection, she assiduously avoided recollections of the sweepers, breathing a sigh of relief as those ghosts seemed content to remain hidden within the shadows, at least for the moment.
She performed her duties in exemplary fashion, and was considered most favourably by the ruling elite, not just because of her lineage - her father was, and her grandfather had been, members of the Council - but more importantly, because of the immensely significant treasures she had secured, in her years as senior cultural advisor to the fleet. The Council considered that, in lesser hands, the Te would have been much the poorer. Perversely, the majority genuinely believed this accretion of cultural treasures somehow preserved the essence of the obliterated civilisations; testimony to the overwhelming power of self delusion.
Narol knew that sacrifices flowed from accepting the mantle of her forebears. She would make those sacrifices without hesitation, but she also made two other decisions. First, she would not marry and second, she would not have children. Her first choice appeared, to her colleagues and superiors, to be the ultimate sacrifice to her career. In reality, she had often dreamed of sharing her life and hopes with another, and there had been a few candidates, but she never found one who, she felt, would ever be able to share her secret. The second choice was easier, never to bring an innocent into the world to become part of the unending, and unfulfilling fight against her people’s unremitting expansion. Whenever her mind drifted along these lines, questioning her decision, she remembered how close her brother had come to losing his life, and was thankful for the choice she had made.
Her thoughts lighted upon her current predicament. Gorn had passed on the bad news about the Alpha Wave, it could not be disabled. The boy was, not surprisingly, concerned about a secondary wave that would destroy them all. Perhaps, she thought, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. After all, the news would get back to Te’ath and questions would, most certainly, be asked. It was not the outcome she had originally intended, but it was acceptable. Naturally, she kept those thoughts from Gorn, who wanted to warn Darl. ‘I’m sorry,’ she told him, ‘I can’t permit you to do that. It might raise his suspicions too soon.’ The boy was not happy at all.
Whatever the final outcome, short of their total annihilation, she knew posterity would be unkind to the woman who decided to end the life of her nephew. She could not even find comfort in the assassin’s assurance that Gorn would never know what was happening, and would feel nothing. Just as she was running this through her mind, a hologram appeared before her, showing the face of an unexpected visitor to her domain. She was about to have an opportunity to seek further assurances. Looking around the small, sterile room which had become her world, she reminded herself that, upon the death of her nephew, there would be no one within her family to carry on her struggle, and part of her was glad.
Δ
Three months ago
An unwelcome visitor
Hugo sat at his desk, looking out over the coastline arrayed before TeCorp headquarters, and pondered on what had happened since his first meeting with Tala and Beron.
Liz had come with him, without asking a single question. She trusted him to make the right choice, never seeking to gainsay his decision, and by the same token he knew there was no need to ask her to think through the ramifications, she always considered every eventuality.
While money was never the reason he agreed to head up TeCorp, his wealth increased, almost exponentially. His old firm had increased in size, threefold, in order to service what had become its sole client; unlike Hugo, the money meant a great deal to his erstwhile colleagues!
The permissions and patents had proven easier than he anticipated, as there was no shortage of powerful men and women willing to exert their influence in favour of TeCorp, for nothing more than recognition of their friendship.
So much of the economic and political landscape had changed since TeCorp’s inception. The repair of the atmosphere had to be carried out gradually, with meticulous regard to the likely environmental impact. The plan was to completely rejuvenate Earth’s atmosphere, now that the ozone layer was restored.
Aerospace, and transport were other matters which could not be rushed. While the world would benefit from the immediate replacement of inefficient and dirty forms of transport, the global economy was too inflexible to survive such sudden change. Gradually, TeCorp licensed the manufacture of anti-grav drives, and the ships using them, to the aerospace corporations. Naturally, the airlines followed suit, followed by the rail and coach operatives. Over a relatively short time, anti-grav drives would go from supplementing fossil fuel drives, to supplanting them.
The one change that had to be implemented swiftly was to imbue mankind with the value of patience. Every nation wanted the benefits of fusion power, immediately, and while this was simple enough to achieve merely by locking into the national grids, a major consequence of the change was the potential damage to economies dependent upon fossil fuel extraction. TeCorp insisted those countries were given the bulk of manufacture, in order to offset their losses - in time, all countries would find economic strengths elsewhere. Firm in the knowledge that the atmospheric damage was being repaired, everyone agreed, some more reluctant than others, to implement the changes gradually enough to prevent catastrophic social and economic upheaval.
The world’s leaders were unanimous in agreeing to the immediate implementation of food and water replicators in the Third World. For one thing, it absolved the developed economies from continuing to supply aid. Accordingly, all assistance in developing a viable agricultural infrastructure in those countries was subjected to temporary hiatus. In time they, like everyone else, would be swept along with the world changing events that were rapidly unfolding.
Other than a few isolated, strident voices, no one criticised these decisions, after all, starvation was to become a thing of the past, and who would not welcome that? The few dissidents who voiced concern, as to the abrogation of their duty to go beyond merely providing food and water, were ignored.
Now, after almost three years, the changes were manifest and just as Tala anticipated, he was now, at least to those who knew best, the most powerful man on the planet…an epithet he did not enjoy.
The Te’ans had, incrementally, permitted the involvement of Tellurians on the production lines and, more importantly, in the development labs. Presently, seventy-five percent of all development, and ninety percent of manufacture was Tellurian based.
What Hugo found most remarkable about the whole transition, was the unquestioning obeisance of all those he expected to be the most challenging. He recalled a comment he made three years ago, his hidden associates had certainly done their homework. They had provided an economic plan which left the major powers in the driving seat, with a guarantee they would remain there for the foreseeable future. Those great powers were more than content with the prese
rvation of the status quo, as the foreseeable future was a very long road, with no end in sight.
Everything was going well. The future of mankind was assured, and nothing could disrupt the harmony the world was beginning to enjoy.
So it was, that as Hugo sat in his chair, programmed for relaxation, looking out beyond the coastline to the turquoise waters of an ocean bathed in the golden rays of the setting sun, his reverie was broken by a direct call to his cell, sparking a chain of events he never, in his worst nightmares, could have anticipated.
Liz knew Hugo was not due to finish for at least another hour, and she never left the office before him, not because she was paid more that the CEOs of most of the largest corporations in America, but out of a loyalty that preceded the creation of TeCorp. She remained at her desk when Hugo left the office on his innumerable excursions, eschewing the temptation to accompany him on even the more interesting site visits. She was never much of a sightseer, and certainly was not overawed by the prospect of meeting the great and, occasionally good. Hugo never pressed the point. Today, she was given no choice. Within moments of receiving the call, Hugo was striding through his outer office, Liz’s domain. ‘I need you with me,’ was all he said. His voice was neither raised, nor commanding, but she knew instinctively it was not a request, and that there was something terribly wrong. In one fluid motion she picked up her bag and jacket, while getting up from her chair.
The two of them approached the flyer’s captain, who raised his eyebrows at the sight of Liz, this must be something big, he thought, as he led them over to the door of the svelte flying machine. Hugo smiled as they shook hands, but did not speak. This of itself might mean nothing, but it was Hugo’s invariable practice to pass the time of day with whoever was on duty; that he did not on this occasion, could only mean there was something serious in the wind.
Nothing was said about the destination, Hugo transmitted that information before leaving his desk, and the captain had already entered the coordinates.
The TeCorp CEO waited until Liz boarded before following. Once they had taken their seats, he looked over to her and explained the call. The flight to the White House would only take six minutes, but by the time they landed she was fully briefed.
They were ushered by Secret Service personnel along the corridors of power, to the Oval Office, a place Hugo had visited many times over the last three years. While this was Liz’s first visit, the import of what she had just been told left her cold. Any other time she would have been as interested as anyone else in, what was arguably, the most important room in the western world. Today, it meant nothing.
On the way, they were met by a short, stocky man with a thick head of hair, shot through with grey. He had the eyes of a man who was a stranger to sleep, more importantly to Liz, they were sharp, mistrustful eyes. She felt much the same as when she first met Tala, but for different reasons. This was only the third time she had met the man, and her feelings remained the same, she did not trust him.
He held out his hand to her employer, who shook it, briefly.
The man was Gerry Wye, the President’s Chief of Staff. She made a mental note to keep a careful eye on him, and then moved on, there were more important issues at stake this evening. As the little group approached the door to the Oval Office nothing was said, nothing could be said.
A Secret Service agent, acknowledged their approach and knocking softly on the door, opened it and stepped into the office, only to reappear a second later, holding the door open for them.
Once inside, Liz noted there were only three persons in the room: the President of course, a handsome man in his mid fifties, and two others; General Scott Gould, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and the chief scientific advisor to the President, Professor Grant Fischer a frequent visitor to TeCorp headquarters, widowed for six years, who lingered rather longer in Hugo’s outer office than was necessary for his official business, something which had not gone unnoticed.
All three men shared the strained look of her boss, and she wondered what they were reading in her face.
In addition to those physically present - the secret service personnel had left - were four large LCD screens in the centre of the room, arranged in a semi circle and arrayed before six chairs. She noticed a number of cameras pointing to the chairs, presumably so that those on the screens could see the occupants of the room. The usual tables and soft furnishings had been removed to provide much needed space, but with an unwanted side effect; a loss of warmth and informality, reflecting the news they had received.
As Liz and Hugo stepped forward to be greeted by the President, and each of his advisors, she could not help but notice the images on three of the screens. Arrayed before her were the Presidents of Russia and China, as well as the President of the European Union. The six physical attendees stood a little outside of the field of view of the cameras; she suspected this was more by design than accident.
The President nodded towards the cameras. ‘This is a global matter, the urgency prevents a face to face meeting and for obvious reasons, you…’ he looked directly at Hugo, ‘…are the only person, outside our respective administrations, involved in these talks.’ The omission of any reference to Liz meant one of two things: she was thought to be a non-person; or the two of them were regarded, for present purposes, as one cohesive entity. She deduced it was the latter, but thought, you can never be too sure where politicians are concerned.
President Conway continued. ‘The facts are irrefutable,’ he looked in the direction of the fourth screen. What it depicted was for the most part black, but in the centre turning slowly, end over end, and leaving in its wake a widening trail of detritus, was the unmistakable image of an asteroid. It was impossible to gauge its size from the screen, but the information given to Hugo, during his initial telephone call, worried him.
On the journey to the White House, he had explained to Liz that telescopes in geostationary orbit detected the asteroid. Its trajectory placed it on a direct collision course with Earth, and it was nine times the size of the fifteen kilometre Chicxulub asteroid, believed to have caused devastation at the end of the cretaceous period, more than sixty-million years ago. The estimated time of impact was only six weeks away.
How a body of that size had escaped earlier detection, no one could fathom. Records confirmed that one day it was not there, the next day it was, but those who mentioned this anomaly were given short shrift. There were only two questions of interest: was it definitely there, and was it on a collision course? Both were answered in the affirmative. Perhaps, if the answer to the second question had been no, someone would have looked further into its appearance, seemingly out of nowhere.
‘We’ve examined every possibility,’ the President continued, ‘there’s no way to prevent the collision, and nothing we can do to survive it,’ the man’s face had turned grey. He looked away from Hugo, but then collected himself, taking on the resolute look of a man tasked with finding a solution to the greatest single threat to mankind’s survival.
Hugo waited for the question he had anticipated since receiving the call. ‘This is where you come in, Hugo. Your corporation has produced the most astonishing technology ever seen. Most people thought what you were doing was impossible, the subject of science fiction. You’re a lawyer for goodness sake, not a scientist, but you proved them all, including me, wrong,’ he paused, as if pondering whether to speak openly, and Liz was about to understand why they were speaking out of the range of the cameras. ‘I have no idea how you came by your technology but wherever it came from I, for one, think it could be the solution,’ a hint of the greyness returned, ‘if there’s a solution.’
This was more, or less what Hugo expected. It was no giant leap of logic to deduce that the wonders cascaded into the world, over the last three years, were not home grown. Anticipating the request was simple enough. The question now was, how he would respond?
As soon as he received the call from Gerry Wye, he tried to contact Tala using th
e communication device she had given him, but was unable to get through. He stood before the President of the United States, and was undoubtedly, about to speak to the other most powerful men, and woman on Earth, without the answer they wanted…needed.
The President looked at the waiting monitors. ‘We are praying you have the answer,’ it was clear, he wanted the information at his fingertips when he spoke to the others.
Hugo was aware of all eyes, except those of Liz, scanning him hopefully. The answer would not be what they hoped, and the response he had prepared on the journey had not improved in the short time since his arrival. ‘Mr President, as you've no doubt already discerned, I’m no more than a conduit,’ the merest hint of a smile appeared, albeit fleetingly, upon the face of the President, as though he was enjoying a private joke, his eyes, however, remained deadly earnest.
‘I don’t have a solution to our predicament.’
The President’s face telegraphed his thoughts. ‘I've learned, in the time we've known each other, that you're not a man given to careless phraseology, Hugo. You don’t have a solution, who does?’ The inescapable conclusion from the President’s summons, was his realisation that the means to remove the threat could not be terrestrial in origin, and would require direct involvement from Hugo’s principals. Something, Hugo knew the Te’ans would not consider. He had no doubt they possessed the wherewithal to accomplish the task, but how could they be persuaded to change their inviolable rules, prohibiting direct contact?
