The rest of the resistance team stood in the middle of the outpost looking around in consternation. “Where were the drunken and sleeping infidels they had planned to kill?” they were asking each other. They received their answer very quickly. Heavy machine gun fire started raining down from the sky as two Russian helicopter gunships popped up above the ridgeline. The helicopters were of the latest stealth design and were so quiet they had not even heard their muffled turbines or rotor blades. The fight lasted less than a minute. Of the forty-nine men that had stormed the camp, only nine were still alive when they were finally surrounded and captured by the Russian soldiers that had been hiding and waiting to spring the trap.
Bijan regained consciousness when a bucket of cold water was thrown in his face. He was dragged to his feet and tied to a pole. A Russian Colonel who spoke Farsi came and stood in front of him and sneered. “Did you stupid ragheads really think that you could surprise us and storm this outpost? We’ve been watching you since you came across the border.” He pointed to the sky. Bijan could see the glint of a drone loitering in the air far above them. “It’s too bad that you people won’t accept that you’ve been beaten. If you would stop fighting I might even agree to keep a couple of your dog faced women to be my whores,” the Colonel said to him.
The Colonel walked down the row of survivors that had been tied and forced to kneel in the sand. Most of them were wounded. He pulled out a pistol and shot each of them in the head as he came back up the line. He stopped when he came back to Bijan. He placed another clip in his pistol and spat on Bijan. He raised his pistol to Bijan’s face. “Give my regards to Allah you stupid Arab rat.” Bijan felt a moment of pain and saw a flash of light as the bullet entered his brain and then all went black.
“Throw their bodies over the ridge where the vultures and wild dogs can eat them,” the Colonel ordered his men. Turning, he made his way back to his quarters. “Three more months and I can rotate off this damned border duty” he muttered to himself as he poured himself a drink. Overhead, the ever watchful drones continued their circling.
Chapter 8
April 22nd 2044
New Washington, Georgia
President Walden sat listening to the briefing from his Agricultural Secretary. The news wasn’t good, but then again, he hadn’t had good news in so long it barely aroused any reaction from him at all. His country, as well as the rest of the world, was in a hell of a mess.
“Mr. President, I’ll try to sum up all reports for you and the rest of the council to save time. The amount of ash and dust that have been thrown into the atmosphere is much greater than what anyone had predicted. Except for the very southern most parts of Texas and Florida, we cannot expect many crops to grow this summer. The combination of poor sunlight and much lower temperatures than had been expected is making it very difficult to grow anything on a large scale. The major grain crops like wheat, corn, and barley will not be able to grow and most farmers are unwilling to waste the seed to even try. Instead, the farm cooperatives are instructing their members to conserve the seed stock for next year. Most of the wheat farmers are willing to plant a winter variety of wheat so hopefully that will be able to mature and we’ll have some grain available. We have enough grain in storage to last another year, but that’s assuming that we don’t use it for livestock. Food supplies are going to be very tight at least for the foreseeable future.”
“What about Mexico and the South America Countries, will they have any surplus?” the President asked.
“Not likely sir. Argentina, Chile, and many of the other areas of southern continent are already getting snowed in. The temperate countries like Brazil and Venezuela had massive parts of their coastal areas flooded by the tides and have had a very poor harvest. They’re trying to gather in their crops now and they estimate the total harvest to be about ten percent of what it normally was. We were pretty well prepared with our stockpiles of food, but some of the poorer countries that didn’t have our resources are going to have mass starvation.”
“Most of the world is in similar or worse shape. Poaching of wildlife in Africa is rampant as the people try to keep from starving. The Russians, Indians, and what’s left of the Chinese are all going hungry also. The new British Commonwealth isn’t much better off. Unless they enforce strict rationing, they’re also facing starvation. It’s going to be a long cool summer in the Northern Hemisphere and God help us next winter.”
“What are your recommendations then?” the President asked.
The Agricultural Secretary sighed and looked down at his charts and graphs. Finally, he looked up and around the table. “I feel that unless we want mass starvation in this country, we need to implement an immediate rationing program. In addition, I don’t feel that we have any surplus resources to help the rest of the world. We’re going to have a hard time feeding our own population. I think we should begin a large scale program of building greenhouses. We’re going to need a lot of them. We need to get everyone who knows anything about hydroponic gardening and genetic crop development to step up and start developing crops that are more cold resistant.”
Jerry Thornton, the President’s Chief of Staff spoke up. “We’re going to get a lot of public backlash if we start rationing. There hasn’t been public food rationing in this country since World War Two. There will be riots, and it could get very messy.”
The President rubbed his neck and thought about all the little children in the less well prepared countries that were going to starve to death in the next couple of years. He knew was going to have trouble sleeping for the rest of his life if he continued to worry about that. “Do we have a good estimate of just how many of our citizens survived the encounter yet?”
The Director of FEMA and Relocation Services spoke up. “Right now we have roughly one hundred and ten million people officially accounted for. There probably will be another couple of hundred thousand stragglers and some additional refugees from Canada added to that when all the rescue and relocation efforts are done.”
President Walden looked over at the Agricultural Secretary again. “Can you tell us what population the usable farm lands we have left in our country will support?”
The Agricultural Secretary looked around the room. “After the dust and ash clear from the atmosphere, we can probably sustain seventy, maybe eighty million people on a long term basis. Even that estimate is based upon the assumption that we can import a fair amount of food products from the central equatorial regions of South America.”
The room was as quiet as the council members absorbed the information.
Finally, the President stood. “That will be all today gentlemen. I have a meeting with the new ambassador from the British Commonwealth. I just hope that he’s not here to beg for food. It sounds like we have none to offer. I would like a draft plan drawn up for a mandatory rationing program. I want some specialists in the field of hydroponics and genetically altered crops to be brought here to brief me and the Senate Agricultural Committee. He left the room as his chief of staff opened the door for him and made his way to his office where the new British Commonwealth Ambassador awaited him.
…
President Walden entered and greeted Ambassador Alfred Churchill. His new office, the Suwannee room, had taken the place of the old oval office in the previous White House. President Walden didn’t believe the new office had near the prestige of his old one in Washington, but at least the old historic Resolute desk had been brought in.
“Welcome to New Washington, Mr. Ambassador. I hope you’ve gotten settled into your new embassy quarters.”
“Thank you, Mr. President. It took a while to get all the red tape cleared and the building certified as secure. Even though our two countries do not consider themselves as adversaries in this brave new world, our security team still had to sweep the building and install all the electronic necessities of modern politics.” The Ambassador looked around. “I was never able to visit the old White House, but your new official residence is
quite beautiful.”
The President nodded. “It’s a nice home, but somehow it’s not the same without the ghosts of previous presidents looking over your shoulder. You requested an urgent meeting upon your arrival Mr. Ambassador. So, how can the United States and I be of service to the New British Commonwealth?”
The Ambassador paused, and then spoke. “Mr. President, no doubt you and your government have been assessing the damage caused by the encounter with the brown dwarf just as my country has done. The drastic changes in weather are going to make life very difficult for everyone.”
The President nodded in agreement.
“Mr. President, many of your people, as well as many of my countries citizens are going to go hungry. Neither your scientists nor ours accurately predicted just how bad the weather changes were going to be or how fast they were going to happen.”
Again the President nodded. “I agree that the situation is much worse than we had anticipated. Mr. Ambassador, if you are here to ask for food or assistance for your people, we just don’t have any to spare.”
“My government is well aware of that Mr. President. We’re also very appreciative that you are still willing to accept the stragglers that are coming down from Canada. Our analysts speculate that in the future, the mainland of the United States will only support approximately seventy five million people. They also predict that the New British Commonwealth, consisting chiefly of Australia and New Zealand, will be able to support slightly less than that. Our world has grown much smaller and colder Mr. President.”
“So your government and mine are in agreement then that we are all going to be very hungry, at least in the short term,” said the President.
The Ambassador looked at the President carefully. “My government also predicts that what’s left of the United States cannot economically continue to support your Space Force. You simply don’t have the industrial base and tax revenue to keep it up and running.”
“Mr. Ambassador, we’re making plans to start mining operations on the moon and of the near Earth asteroids. The revenue from mining those valuable resources should help offset the costs of the Space Force quite a bit.”
“Mr. President, it’ll take years to develop those industries to the point where they are providing a profit rather than absorbing huge amounts of startup revenue. You know as well as I do how much of a budget deficit the Space Force is causing for your country. It’s going to break you economically.”
President Walden found himself becoming angry. “The United States is doing what it must to try and ensure the survival of humanity as a species. No other country, including your own, has volunteered to help in this endeavor. We’re doing as well as we can to protect your people as well as our own.”
The Ambassador nodded his head in agreement. “That’s all very true and very admirable Mr. President, but it’s going to be the ruination of your country.”
“So, what the hell do you expect us to do, Mr. Ambassador, pull our people back to Earth and paint a big bulls eye on the planet for an asteroid to hit?”
“Mr. President, please don’t mistake me as a pessimist. My great, great, uncle was one of the most famous of all optimists, and I inherited some of his genes along that order from what I have been told.”
“Just who the hell was your ancestor, Mr. Ambassador? What does he have to do with the price of a loaf of bread in today’s world?” Suddenly, it seemed like the clouds parted and realization hit the President like a brick. “Your great uncle, was he Sir Winston Churchill?”
“Yes, my great, great, uncle on my father’s side, Mr. President.”
The President sat back in his chair. “I’ve read a great deal of history about Sir Winston. He was faced with a challenge almost as great as ours.”
The Ambassador smiled. “Sir Winston faced down all the pessimists with bullheaded optimism and had a “damned why can’t we attitude”. I believe he also to run off his detractors and pessimistic acquaintances with his love of some really nasty cigars.”
The President eyed the Ambassador carefully. “Why are you here, Mr. Ambassador?”
“My government pays some people to sit around and make predictions. You Yanks do the same I’m sure. I believe you coin the term “think tanks” when you refer to such groups of individuals. One of our own think tanks recently made some predictions regarding the future political alignments of what’s left of our world.”
“They believe that what used to be the Russian Republic will continue to consolidate the Middle East and Southeastern Europe. India, who has refused to join the New British Commonwealth, hopes to expand its influence into what remains of China and Southeast Asia. Japan’s northernmost islands are going to become uninhabitable and the country is probably going to become a mere shadow of the industrial nation that it once was. The non-British European countries that re-located the majority of their population to Africa are actively trying to consolidate that continent into a new union. Due to all the historical conflicts and dirty baggage from the previous colonial efforts on that continent in the last century, it will be years or even generations before they can do so. We hope that is sooner than later, as Africa looks to be the new breadbasket of the world.”
“Africa has the most remaining habitable land area and straddles the equator. Once the ash and dust clouds have dissipated, they’ll have a very manageable climate. Last but not least, we have your United States. We know that your country is trying to bring all the South American and Caribbean countries into a confederation of American states. Provided that you have the military resources and economic clout, we believe you will succeed. We hardily wish you success in your endeavor.”
President Walden was losing his patience and wanted to strangle the man. He hadn’t made room in his busy schedule to be lectured and told what he was already well aware of. Why could the damn British never get to the point without being so pompous and condescending first? “Mr. Ambassador, I’m asking you again, why are you here telling me all this today? I have my own intelligence agencies giving me the same information you are.”
“Mr. President, I’m here to tell you that my government wants to help with the funding of the Space Force. In addition to that, we believe that the new German and French Governments in Africa are willing to make similar offers.”
President Walden was taken aback. “Why now, Mr. Ambassador? When we were asking for assistance thirty years ago, no one offered to lift a finger to help. We were asking all the countries of the world to give whatever assistance that they could.”
“Mr. President, your country was trying to move its population southwards in preparation for the coming climate change. While your preparations were costly and time consuming, the European countries had to move their entire population to entirely different continents. They had to find countries in Africa or Central America that were willing to be host nations for all of their refugees. The enormous costs of that endeavor as well as making plans to feed and house them were horrendous. Of all the countries in the northern hemisphere, the United States was in the best position to re-locate her population.
Now that things are starting to settle down, my country feels that it should contribute to the protection of the planet that we all live upon. My government wishes to offer to help fund Space Force. We are willing to contribute fifteen percent of the budget for Space Force. In addition, since they have yet to re-establish embassies here in your new capital, I have been asked by the governments of the new French and German republics to offer a matching fifteen percent funding offer from each of them. That would equate to forty five percent of Space Force’s Budget. The United States would no longer have to shoulder this responsibility alone. I’m sure that our contribution would ease the financial burden of protecting our planet tremendously.”
President Walden sat in silence. He didn’t know what to say. He had expected the Ambassador to be asking for food and humanitarian assistance, instead he was actually offering up a solution to an increasingly worri
some problem. Being a realist though, he knew that nothing was free in this world. Everything had its price.
“Mr. Ambassador, your offer is welcome and somewhat of a surprise. Forgive me if I sound ungrateful, but what would your government and those of the new French and German Governments want in return for this assistance?”
“Very little, Mr. President,” smiled the Ambassador. We would ask that a representative number of our best military personnel be allowed to join Space Force. Since its very reason for existence is to shield our world, we feel that it should consist of an international force, not one wholly funded and provided by one country. However, since the United States has borne the brunt of the job and still provides the majority of the logistic and financial support, we agree that it’s logical that operational command should remain under United States Control.”
The President smiled, he already knew what was coming next, and he also knew he was going to have to be real careful controlling his sarcasm and temper.
“In addition, we feel that in return for our support that our scientists should have access to some of the more advanced space technologies that you’ve been developing. It would also be a very nice gesture if our scientists were allowed equal access to the alien artifacts when a manned expedition is sent to the planet Elpis. We would like to have some of our own personnel on that expedition.”
“Is that all your government wants in return, Mr. Ambassador?”
“Yes, Mr. President. Those were the requests and conditions of my government, as well as those of the New French Colonies and United Germanic Peoples Republic.”
“Mr. Ambassador, I will present your offer to my executive staff and to the congressional oversight committee for Space Force. You should be aware that it will take a full vote in congress to accept and implement such an offer. We will get back to you as soon as possible.
Blue Planet Rising (Pebbles in the Sky Book 2) Page 5
