by Paul A. Rice
‘Nice, very nice indeed,’ Mike said, ‘it’s totally simple but extremely efficient!’ He sounded like a heart surgeon making a casual comment about the latest titanium aorta pump. ‘My guess would be its some kind of hydrogen fuel-cell, although it’s hugely advanced in comparison to our current standards,’ he said, so softly that it was as though he was speaking to himself.
Ken had seen him in this mode many times before, when he had caught Mike unawares, perhaps fiddling with some device or another in the corner of his little workshop back in their office on the base. ‘Back in our old world, back then before the storm and all of this madness had started raining down on our stupid heads!’ The thoughts echoed along the empty corridors of Ken’s mind as he watched Mike.
Looking up from the machine, his friend whispered: ‘We would still have a problem getting the ones on Earth to fit in the back of a pickup truck, that’s if you were brave enough to drive the bloody thing, of course.’
George nodded, saying: ‘Yes, that is correct, they had the basic design that we had passed on to them, but, as I have mentioned, there were those who deliberately slowed the technology down, they are the reason why you still have an unused device in your hands.’ He raised one of his own hands and gently massaged his temples with a thumb and forefinger. ‘What makes it even worse,’ he murmured, ‘is the fact that their dismissal of the technology will ensure your race is destined to stay locked within its present archaic chains forever. If they had bothered to embrace the ideas we had given them, then all of this…’ he lifted his face to the heavens and pointed at the sky, ‘…would soon have been within your grasp, all of those places that lay beyond your imagination, all of them and many, many more. With some development of the device, you would soon be able to reach them all!’ With a final despairing shake of the head, he said, ‘Well, now that does not really matter anymore, does it? Things have taken a turn for the worse!’ There was coldness in his tone that Ken had not heard previously.
George held out his hand and, somewhat reluctantly, Mike passed the machine back to him. With the same sleight of hand he had shown when producing the device, George made it disappear back into his trouser pocket. He made his way over to the edge of their rocky ledge, sat down and allowed his legs to hang over the side. Ken and Mike joined him; it wasn’t long before they were sitting a thousand feet up in the air, legs dangling over the void below. Ken found the situation to be totally bizarre. Here he was, sitting on the side of an ancient holy rock and looking out at the remains of planet Earth, whilst right next to him there was a crazy old man who happened to have some of the most advanced technology ever known to man, casually stuffed into his trouser pocket.
As they sat, with George telling them about the unfolding events of his tale, his two students stared out into the far distance and listened to his voice. He told them that his man on the inside, so to speak, had informed his masters of the great dangers facing Earth, and of how he was in possession of the solution. He sent all the diagrams, details, ideas and calculations to them. Over a number of years, all manner of information was forced up the chain of command. The watchers waited in desperation for the Hyenas to initiate the programme, they waited for the radical changes that would revolutionise the tiny planet’s perilous future, saving it from its own suicide.
George said it had become apparent that those who held the power on Earth did not really care about doing what was best for the vast majority, no – the fact that the demise of the planet’s fossil fuels would cause huge power shortages, which would very quickly lead to an all-out, civilisation-ending war, seemed to be of little consequence to them. In fact, it did appear as though a large amount of Earth’s leaders would have been more than happy to have that as an outcome.
With a small grimace, George whispered: ‘We found this attitude to be totally unacceptable, their short-term view and utterly selfish designs based upon creating a one-state-world were nothing short of ridiculous. Your planet would be plunged back into the Dark Ages, and without the means to produce power, the Dark Ages are where it would remain forever!’ He explained that he and his kind had begun to bombard the Earthlings with views and forecasts of what lay ahead for them if they continued to resist the technology. ‘We cannot allow the powerful few to destroy the future for billions of others – we simply cannot do that!’ George looked at them helplessly with his arms held out, the white palms of his hands turned upwards. It was almost a gesture of failure.
Then, he smiled and said, ‘More positive news, thank goodness, was not far away…’ Rising carefully to his feet, George suggested that perhaps they should be heading back. Ken, still feeling the coldness on his neck, agreed immediately.
After gathering their belongings, George told them to lie down and close their eyes. With some trepidation, Ken did as he had been asked and stretched himself out to lie next to Mike. Hearing George ordering him to prepare himself, Ken lay back, shut his eyes and waited for the dizziness to arrive. It wasn’t to be long in making an appearance.
***
Later, after having made their miraculous jump back to the cinema, and then dazedly wandering back into the lounge, the two men were once more seated upon the red couch and listening to George as he gave them further information. He explained that after a long time spent prevaricating, the people on Earth had begun to show the first chink of understanding – some light had finally started to appear in the darkness belonging to the current night of the Hyenas’ previous stubbornness.
Half-smiling, he said, ‘At last there had been a positive response from the men in suits. An urgent meeting was scheduled so they were able ask us all the questions they wanted to. We did not hesitate, we had no choice and they had no time. It was to be the beginning of the end-game, “Shit-or-bust”, I believe the quaint term used to describe this particular situation, would be?’ He looked at them seriously, saying: ‘We sent a Team to meet them in the ancient building, where you started your journey, your trip to join us here, Kenneth.’
‘You mean the SD building. George, you met them there – when was that meeting?’ Ken wanted to know, he had to get some sense of time, normal time, back into his logic.
George smiled, and almost as if he’d read Ken’s mind, said, ‘Yes, I understand. It was almost three years ago now...yes, that’s about right, three years, I think?’ He shrugged. ‘They came to us and we met, we talked, and we showed them everything. All of the events, all of the information and all the knowledge we had, it was all shared with them. We explained in minute detail about the unfolding catastrophe that lay before them, we talked in depth about their usage of oil and about how we would be able to cure their problem with the device.’ He tilted his head to one side and the action made him appear almost childlike.
With a shrug, he continued. ‘We showed them the device, we explained its immense power and how it should be used. They had been very interested in that, the power of the device and of the intermediate fuel, almost more interested than they were in its abilities as a hydrogen cell, but we put their interest down to the insatiable curiosity of your race...What a terrible mistake we made there!’ He puffed his cheeks out in anger and defiance. Expelling his annoyance, he said, ‘It was yet another colossal underestimation on our behalf, an underestimation about the true nature of the beast!’ His lined face crumpled even more as he uttered that last sentence.
Falling into silence, he turned and watched the monitor, which now hung in the air behind him, having appeared as if from nowhere. Ken and Mike followed his gaze. The huge screen showed them images of people gathered in offices and talking on mobile telephones, all engaged in furious conversations or email messaging. None of them looked to be remotely happy. There also appeared to be some kind of a meeting, Ken did recognise some of the people who attended, not by name, although it was obvious they were big-wigs. But since he’d never really paid much attention to politics and suchlike, he wasn’t able put his finger on exactly who was who. Either way, it was obvious they were
of importance. He watched the silent images as the handful of shiny limousines with their blacked-out windows slid onto the driveway of some grandiose mansion, hard-eyed security men swarmed about the place as the suited ones made their way inside. At least twenty men and several women sat around an enormous table.
One by one they rose to their feet and addressed the others who were present in their private gathering. In the end they held some sort of vote – all of those present held their hands aloft in a sign of agreement to whatever it was that had been proposed. Within minutes, the entourage had filed out of the room; after exchanging solemn handshakes they all left the mansion and returned to their vehicles. In no time at all, the final limousine had slipped from the driveway and disappeared from view.
Ken looked down from the screen at George. ‘Who the hell were that lot, and what were they doing? That looked to be a pretty damned serious meeting.’
George snorted, saying: ‘They, my dear friends, are the Hyenas – they are the real power brokers of your world! Some are in the public eye, whilst the rest remain hidden in the shadows, but nothing of any major importance ever happens without their say-so, nothing! They are members of the most exclusive club on Earth, and you cannot buy your way in – they are the most powerful people in this parallel!’
Ken shook his head in amazement, he’d heard of such things but had never really put much credence to the rumours, and yet he’d just watched that very club holding a meeting before his own eyes.
He listened as George began to talk again.
‘So, as you have seen,’ he said, ‘they held a secret meeting, and when they realised that we were not going to just give them the technology, and that we wanted to oversee its development, they obviously came up with another plan, one to which we were not privy, because we were not paying attention!’ He shook his head in anger, before continuing. ‘Anyway, after several long sessions spent trying to persuade them, we realised that things were going nowhere. It began to appear as though they did not believe us, their attitudes made us feel like we had some hidden agenda, and their off-hand manner began to make our Team of Teachers feel as though they were phoney!’ He shook his head again, incredulously this time. ‘It was terrible, and so we extracted all of them, all of the Team, we took them from the building and from the planet, and we sent them home! All of them left, all except for one man – only Jonathon stayed behind.’
George paused, and Ken saw an expression of deep sorrow cross his wrinkled face. With a wry smile, the old man continued, saying: ‘He was the wisest and most experienced of our Team, he was old and extremely persuasive and he volunteered to stay because he strongly believed that we would be able to change their attitudes, he genuinely did believe that. Jonathon was also my best friend!’
The bitterness seeped into George’s voice as he walked them through the final chapters of his torrid tale. Jonathon and the inside man, Wilson, had made a great team. They became close friends and presented a united front to the Hyenas, a united front that was unassailable by even by the most stubborn of rivals. It had no leaks and was irrefutable. The two men showed the Earthlings that if what the oil-mongers were doing did not stop, then within fifteen years, the point of balance – the tipping point – would be passed, and with it the demise of Earth’s civilisation would become unstoppable. It would self-perpetuate and the end would be inevitable for them all.
George said, ‘We told them that there was to be no way in which we would let them destroy the planet and all it provided for so many, just so that a few people were able to wield all the power! We have not come this far to have a thing of such beauty destroyed – we told them that we would rather wipe the slate clean and begin again.’
Ken, not liking the sound of that phrase one bit, asked: ‘What do you mean by that, what does ‘wipe the slate clean’ mean?’ Although he had a terrible feeling that he already knew exactly what the old man had meant, Ken just needed to hear George admit it. He wasn’t to be disappointed.
Without hesitating, George replied, saying, ‘We showed them a small storm, gave them a little demonstration of what we would do if they did not allow us help them in their advancement.’ The old man looked intently at them as he told of the terrible wrath that had been wreaked upon a land where the people with narrow eyes lived. The biggest population on the planet had been turned to sand, the nutrient-rich green dust of their very own bodies. He said, ‘In seconds, the face of that continent was wiped clean of all human life-forms. All of their weaponry and oil-producing equipment were destroyed, everything was turned to sand! The sight of that one event alone made the Hyenas sit up and take note, oh yes, indeed it did!’
Ken reckoned that George had just made the understatement of the millennium. His posture and prose were that of a demented Sherlock Holmes, one who was about to expose the identity of the unknown murderer to his fawning audience. The old man then shockingly revealed that by using the word ‘showed’ he’d meant exactly that – the storm had actually been another one of those sickening slide-show presentations, only this time it had been made to the horrified on-looking audience in the SD House.
The watching group, the representatives of the Hyenas, upon seeing billions of people dissolving into nothingness before their own, very round eyes, had immediately capitulated. They believed the scene to have been real and that all those people were actually being wiped out in front of them. When they were told it had been merely a demonstration, the revelation had done nothing to take away their sudden glimpse of reality. The terrible show of strength had miraculously removed their rose-tinted spectacles – Jonathon’s people were not joking, anything but.
‘What did they say,’ Ken asked, ‘when you showed them your abilities?’
George, choking back his anger, said, ‘Can you believe that they asked us to prove we had the technology? They asked us to prove it to them, them!’ His face took on a terrible expression, one of fury and total disbelief.
‘And like fools we obliged,’ he whispered. ‘Why we did that, I have no idea! We were such stupid, stupid fools!’ With a wave of the hand, he beckoned the huge monitor from the ceiling above them again. ‘Come and watch,’ he said, turning back to the screen. ‘Come and observe what they did…’
Transfixed, the men gazed at the screen, letting it take them to the place where, according to George, everything had begun to unravel.
20
The Red Puppeteer
The group of leaders and Hyenas sat gathered in petrified silence as Jonathon and Mr Wilson finished their explanation of the show. The silence was deafening and a sombre mood befell the room, almost physically crushing in its heaviness. It, along with the dusty, dirty smell from the air outside, which when coupled with the heavy feral atmosphere of the fear inside, seemed to invade every corner of the ancient building. They sweated, mentally and physically.
Jonathon interjected. ‘Let us take a small break, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘You can confer amongst yourselves and then let us know how you wish to proceed…’ With that he and Mr Wilson turned, walked out of the room and left the stunned audience to their own devices for a while.
The leaders gathered together and argued vehemently amongst themselves for a long time. Small groups broke away and stood in corners, whispering and gesticulating wildly to each other. The airwaves soon became jammed with telephone calls and it wasn’t too long before chaos began to reign. Voices were raised and fists were shaken, in no time the entire scene began to resemble the madness of a crash at the London Stock Exchange. But, with the memories of the storm still fresh in their minds, the group eventually, after some three hours, nominated a representative to work with Jonathon and the Greater Worlds. Work with them and do whatever was needed to avoid the horrendous consequences which they had so recently witnessed.
Jonathon and Mr Wilson returned to the room and were greeted by the news that a compromise had been reached, an agreement ensuring that everything they required the Earthlings to do would be implemented as
soon as possible – the hydrogen development programme was to be given the utmost worldwide priority. It was decided that the project would take place in total secrecy – only the world leaders and their people would be fully aware of the development of such a plan. Then, once they were all ready to initiate the technology, the news of its existence would be released to the masses. Within ten years the whole planet would be able to benefit from the advances.
Power for all mankind and plenty of it, for almost nothing…
KAF was an ideal place for their meetings with George’s people; any strange comings-and-goings would easily be disguised under the heavy veil of secrecy already surrounding a war zone. The humans’ representative was to be Mr Wilson, a man who already knew so much, but he would also be accompanied by another man, one whom Jonathon had only ever seen in the shadows. This man’s job would be to oversee their work and keep his masters informed on the progression of the project. George’s people knew that it was likely the man had been sent to keep an eye on them, but they didn’t care – they had nothing to hide. Together, the two men would stay hidden in the depths of the SD House and oversee the development of the technology. As far as Jonathon was concerned, the more people who came to help, the better it would be. Without hesitation, he welcomed their new addition with open arms.
The huge man stepped forward, introducing himself as Dwayne Tolder. As he extended his large hand, the man said that he mostly used a nickname.
‘Most o’ my friends call me by the name o’ Red…’ he announced, with a grin.
Jonathon’s hand disappeared into the man’s enormous paw, Red smiled down at him and also nodded pleasantly at Wilson. Then, after a few more words with his own people, turned on his heel and accompanied both Jonathon and Mr Wilson back to their office. Once there, they explained how, in the early stages, the Earth would be provided with an alternative power source whilst the development of the hydrogen programme was completed. Jonathon showed Red the basic design parameters and explained that, with some modifications, the material would be able to replace all fossil and nuclear fuels that Red’s kind were currently using.
