Gaia

by Jeff Gardiner

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘Ala!’

  Her head jerked round as soon as I spoke.

  ‘Falco. It’s so good to see you. How are you?’

  She looked amazing, as always. Today she wore a long-skirted, turquoise, one-shoulder dress that made her look like a mermaid. This seemed right to me – a mythical, magical creature. The link with the ocean was perfect for her dolphin numen too.

  ‘I need you, Ala. More than ever now.’

  ‘You’re doing fine, my falcon.’

  I told her about the Arctic dispute.

  ‘Ah, maybe you do need me.’

  In the end we also took Guy, Vriksha and Hudor as five heads were better than two. The negotiations became long and overly complicated. We offered a generously large donation from the Gaia Foundation so that none of the countries felt overwhelmed by the problem – even though I secretly felt that the USA were to blame and should have taken on full responsibility. I did agree that for the sake of peace and reconciliation – as it wasn’t this administration that actually did the dirty deed – that shared accountability and mutual support offered the best way forward, and would guarantee dealing with the problem itself.

  I knew Ala and Guy were ‘conversing’, although I couldn’t focus on what exactly they were sharing.

  ‘If you don’t trust someone else to see a job through to the end, then do it yourself,’ Ala whispered to me.

  Sound advice.

  I stuck a thumb up to her and smiled. ‘I trust you, Ala, but not them.’

  She looked back at me seriously. ‘And trust is the most important thing in both politics and personal relationships. There’s not a huge amount of difference between relationships on different scales.’

  I gazed at her smooth dark skin and intelligent eyes and transferred a thought directly to her, hoping that nobody else could read my mind at that moment.

  The only difference here is that I don’t want to wrap my arms around them and hold them for eternity.

  Her vivacious grin and admiring stare were reward enough for me that night.

  I left those four to the rigours of the on-going negotiations, glad to have been freed from the – to me – tedious minutiae and the lengthy debates that just kept going round in endless circles.

  How glad I was to get back to the UK. Back to my usual routine of media appearances, interviews, formal visits, show performances, and speeches.

  One day I was in my limousine when I noticed the driver was different. I thought nothing of it. People were ill or had holidays. My staff would have found a suitable replacement. It had happened before.

  Guy and Ala had flown to Russia and I missed their company.

  This one began revving up at junctions and speeding in built-up areas. Something was wrong. I tapped on the dividing screen to ask why he was being a boy racer, but he ignored me. The screen wouldn’t budge so I called louder. I knew he could hear me, but for some reason he continued undeterred. The speedometer reached 55 m.p.h., and then he kept going, through a red traffic light, narrowly avoiding crossway traffic, and leaving cars to do emergency stops, handbrake turns and to beep their horns behind us. He accelerated to 60, 70 and then 80, taking sharp bends and trundling over pavements, cutting corners until he reached a stretch of dual carriageway with steep banks either side. I banged harder on the screen dividing us.

  ‘What the hell are you playing at?’

  He pushed the car towards 100 m.p.h. and then opened the driver’s side-window. In an instant the car jerked to the left and he disappeared. Like magic but with no puff of smoke. I saw something flash past and out of the window. A numen.

  But I had no time to think about what had happened as the car was now hurtling down a steep bank and into scrubland. The car bumped terrifically and I heard grinding metal. I was heading directly towards a cluster of trees. I could do nothing. None of my doors nor windows would open. I was suddenly thrown forward, as I assumed the car had rolled over out of control. Nothing made sense. I’d lost all bearings of where I was. I felt confused. Should I transform? Was I going to die?

  I changed into Falco and slipped down into the footwell, hoping for the best.

  An almighty shudder was instantly followed by a loud smash. Debris sprayed over me, but nothing heavy struck me. I felt myself strike a solid surface, but wasn’t hurt. I’d survived the impact. A breeze blew through a hole in the shattered window and I forced my way upwards – or whichever direction it was – until I felt the wind more strongly. There was enough of a gap for me to escape. I was glad I did that quickly because, as I flapped away, I felt a hot blast erupt behind me, ironically creating a thermal to help me rise. I didn’t need to look back to know that the vehicle had exploded.

  It was pretty clear what had just happened: an attempt on my life. And a numen involved against me!

  If my popularity was on the wane then Gene’s was on the rise. He was helping hundreds, if not thousands, to find their own numens; he had developed healing powers and continued to offer therapy and counselling workshops to those in need of such support. His charisma and good looks made him an instant celebrity – especially among women. I felt sorry for him once the kiss-and-tell stories started appearing. Been there. Got the T-shirt. And the burn marks.

  Gene began appearing on TV shows like Mock the Week and Have I Got News For You. He was also invited to America to do the round of late night talk shows with the likes of Stephen Colbert and Jimmy Fallon.

  I was pleased that Gene, Guy and Ala were taking on some of the tasks previously left to me, which helped raise further awareness for the Gaia Foundation. It meant that not all the responsibility was mine. A problem shared … and all that. Gene had initiative and an instinct for this stuff, which I didn’t have. I’d had to struggle and make mistakes then do things the hard way. But Gene just seemed a natural. An older figure and a natural leader. Perhaps it would be better if I stepped down or at least out of the spotlight for a while. Just for my own sanity.

  Perhaps Gene should run for Prime Minister? We could definitely do worse. I made a mental note to mention it to him. I wanted to avoid politics, but he might do better in that environment, being so knowledgeable and quick-witted. Ala would be ideal, of course, but she wasn’t interested. Shame – the wrong people always go for top jobs, and the people who would be perfect in those positions are too principled or modest to want to do that kind of job. It’s always the way.

  It was after the car accident that things began to get really ugly. I had to be more careful when making public appearances. Unfortunately this meant I couldn’t help the animals, pets and people in the way I wanted. I’d not really had the chance to test out my healing skills after my success with Rhea. I desperately wanted to, but it was becoming more difficult. Gene was certainly enjoying more success than me on that front. There was so much I still needed to learn and to practise. The things happening to me hadn’t happened to humans for many centuries. We were pioneers.

  The pleas and begging messages I received got silly; from appeals for money – many seemed genuine and well deserved, to be fair – to requests for miracles, my hand in marriage, and even to deliver what appeared to be a Druidic or pagan last rites ceremony at an elderly gentleman’s deathbed – no name was given, but he must have been a well-known and very powerful individual.

  Of course, there were a lot of cranks as well. Did they really think I’d just hand out money with no checking system in place? But they were nothing compared to the threatening messages, all of which I sent immediately to my security team who brought in the police for the most intimidating ones. I can’t understand why people think it’s acceptable to be so aggressive.

  ‘You think your all that with a poncy suit and expencive rolex but you aint your just some bloke whats landed on his feet and got well lucky if I see you in the street im gonna punch you bloody face in you asswipe and stab you when you down and tell my kids to nick yr suit and bling so we can have nice thing and holiday and shit …’
This was just one of many and certainly one of the less worrying ones.

  After the Gaia Foundation named its monthly list of top ten environmentally unfriendly companies something unexpected happened. These companies were known as shameless polluters – particularly as carbon emitters – and many were energy suppliers and part of the utilities industry, and what made it worse was that many of the CEOs took a fifty per cent pay rise, or more, for killing the Earth. When judging them, we tried to offset the damage each company caused by the amount they put back into clean air technology and green alternatives, but some were just way off the ethical scale. They shouldn’t have been able to wield such power or pay off so many politicians. It was this kind of nonsense that the Gaia Foundation was set up to expose.

  The Forgaxus X C-C Corporation has headquarters in Chicago, Illinois, with its UK operations based outside Gravesend. When they were named the least environmentally friendly company for the last month it caused outrage: from the company itself, whose website suddenly listed obviously fabricated green credentials and strangely untraceable research projects; as well as anger from those activists who wanted all their products banned.

  I was at a demonstration with Gene outside their oil refinery close the Thames, when disaster struck.

  Gene’s mobile news alert app beeped its notification sound and he clicked through to the BBC News channel. A burning tower block spewed out black smoke as it continued to collapse upon itself. All I could think about was 9/11 and that this also had to be an act of terrorism. When I saw the subtitle telling me that the burning building was the head office for Forgaxus X C-C Corporation, I panicked.

  This was wrong. This was hideous. This was my worst nightmare.

  With some effort of concentration I finally focussed on what the reporter was saying.

  ‘… as the smoke ascends heavenwards and the death count rises, it seems that Falco and the Gaia Foundation have much more than just blood on their hands right now …’

  Death count? People had actually died? And I was being blamed?

  ‘Hell, Gene,’ I said, trying not to sound too panicky. ‘What do I do?’

  ‘Stay calm,’ he said quickly, putting a hand on my shoulder. ‘Think clearly. You can’t save the whole world. Well, not in one day anyway.’

  ‘Guess who’ll be blamed.’

  ‘Nothing you can do about that,’ Gene replied. ‘Just worry about dealing with the things you have some control over. Everything else can go hang.’

  Gene was right.

  My next thought was to be thankful that whoever had attacked the headquarters had stopped there and not also targeted the oil refinery. Yet that wasn’t my only feeling … an image possessed me out of nowhere, spurring me into immediate action.

  I grabbed a loud hailer being used by an organiser from Friends of the Earth. ‘Listen, everyone! Please listen! This is Falco speaking. I think we need to vacate this area. Forgaxus headquarters has just been attacked and this place could be next. Please don’t try and be heroic. We all need to evacuate and get home to our loved ones. Let’s move off sensibly, away from the refinery.’

  The organisers, marshals and police all tried to stop the panic and stampede, but it was impossible. People ran, pushed and screamed as if it was the end of the world. I don’t blame them. We all want to save the world, but we also want to live happy quiet lives with the ones we love. A few people got bruised and trodden on, but luckily nobody was seriously hurt.

  But I was glad I listened to that voice in my head – me? – Gaia? – as the refinery did explode. Even standing about half a mile away on the other side of the river we felt the heat. It was horrific, and I wondered, despairingly, if the workers had been evacuated yet. The flames went incredibly high, but – amazingly – the fire was contained within the grounds of the plant itself.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I called my team and we met up at our secret Brighton HQ. Luckily, Ala, Guy, Gene and Hudor were also able to come along to add their wisdom at this time of dire need. Guy and Ala had been away together for what felt like ages.

  ‘As I’m sure you know, at least a hundred died at the headquarters, with six more people tragically lost at the refinery, plus about fifteen still in hospital. These disasters make me wonder if we’re doing the right thing. I – we – never intended for people to die, of course—’

  Any revolution will have casualties. Guy’s thought echoed between us for a few silent moments. He was just stating an objective fact. I knew Guy wouldn’t wish death on anyone. Even though he openly expressed very few emotions, I knew compassion was a driving force in him. It was through him that I’d first encountered true sympathy and empathy.

  ‘If we’re spearheading a revolution – which I can’t deny – then I wish we could do it peacefully,’ I said, in a grave tone to suit the mood of the meeting.

  Nods and murmurs showed that all the others wished the same but we shared the thought that peaceful revolutions don’t tend to work or have the desired effect. That didn’t make killing right, of course.

  ‘Leadership is never easy,’ Vriksha said. ‘Whatever ideals you hold, it’s impossible to take everyone with you. You can pick up support but you cannot guarantee that all your supporters agree with everything you say or with every method you choose. Humans will always let you down or go off their own way. Leadership is about taking responsibility for the mess that’s made, even if it isn’t directly your fault.’

  ‘Leadership sucks,’ I said, sulkily.

  This brought a welcome bout of laughter, much needed in this tense atmosphere.

  ‘That’s why we avoid it and look to you, Falco.’ Ala said this with a look of admiration in her eyes.

  I joined in the laughter but it was short-lived.

  ‘So why the hell are these things being done in my name?’

  ‘Cowardice,’ Hudor replied. ‘It is easy to hide behind the name of an organisation and remain anonymous oneself.’

  ‘You’ve become so famous, Falco. You are practically an icon for this generation. The green messiah. The people’s hero.’ Ala’s smile was forced. ‘Things are said in your name and the people out there start to confuse the truth with the lies, gossip and hearsay. Most people aren’t interested in the truth. They want a simple message. A soundbite. Sometimes they only hear what they want to hear.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Hudor added. ‘Too many people out there believe what they read, or what their friends tell them. Very few people check facts for themselves. Once it’s a headline or an Internet meme then it becomes the “truth”.’ Hudor indicated quotation marks with his fingers.

  ‘We make statements about companies killing our planet, so I suppose we should expect this kind of reaction. Perhaps we are being a little naive,’ I suggested.

  ‘I will never understand why some have to react to things with aggression and destruction. There is too much anger in the world.’ Ala always advocated non-violence. ‘Mahatma Gandhi should be our inspiration. He stood up to brutal British rule and to religious and political hatred with no hate himself. “Ahimsa”, he called it. He was patient, tolerant, kind and self-effacing. We must be the same.’

  ‘We should condemn this violence and barbarism,’ Hudor said with a nod.

  ‘Should we make some kind of statement to the press, do you think?’ I wondered if it would do any good. ‘The trouble is we end up looking like that kid in your class at school who breaks a rule but then denies it and blames everyone else. Denying something just ends up making you look guilty.’

  The others murmured their agreement at this. At least I had learnt something at school, even if it wasn’t a direct qualification. Being a pupil in a comprehensive school had taught me about human nature and different forms of behaviour, if nothing else. I felt I understood ordinary people. A bit.

  A formal apology from the Gaia Foundation seems the right thing to do, but I don’t think it will absolve us from responsibility. Guy always expressed things so clearly and intelligently.
Innocent people have died, and unfortunately the blame is with us.

  ‘We need to find the people who are really responsible, then,’ I said, ruffling my own hair. ‘But how the hell do we do that?’

  ‘We pay for the best private detectives and lawyers to help us,’ Hudor answered immediately.

  ‘Spending loads of money that ordinary people have donated to us in a desperate attempt to shift the blame? That’ll make us look bad and wasteful.’ Ala’s response was yet another that left me respecting her clarity and speed of thinking. I wished I was as analytical and quick-witted as her. She always saw both sides in any argument. ‘We should offer to help the police with their enquiries, and be ready to challenge any slanderous or libellous claims about the Gaia Foundation.’

  ‘But again – isn’t that just throwing money into it?’ I felt pleased to have come up with a counter-argument.

  ‘If we are blamed for the deaths, then it could be the end for Gaia Foundation. Remember mud sticks. Like we said before, people love a headline, whether it’s true or not is irrelevant,’ Hudor said, raising his eyebrows.

  ‘So we go to the police then and tell them everything we know and hope they find the real culprit?’ I looked around to see the others’ reactions.

  Gene sniffed and spoke up. I’d almost forgotten he was there. ‘The problem with that is that we all know what “helping the police with their enquiries” really means, don’t we? It’s a polite way of saying you’re guilty and close to being arrested. Even doing that could look bad.’

  ‘But we can’t do nothing,’ I say impatiently.

  ‘Correct,’ Ala said. ‘We should do all of these things. We must completely comply with the police and law courts, and been seen as open and honest. Then we must subtly hire in an agency who will do detective work into finding the real murderers. If not, then we might as well give up everything that we’ve been fighting for these last few years.’