Solar Minimum

by Greg T Meyers

  

  The broadcast Sunrise Prayers in Algiers were echoing down every alley as the first rays of sunlight touched the tops of the mosque towers and the morning mist began receding into the sea. When the Sunrise prayer concluded, a receiving clerk at the parliament building got up from his prayer rug and finished the paperwork for receiving a rather large crate addressed to the Décideurs Council. He signed his usual scribble on the receiving documents and then looked on the shipping documents to determine the weight of the crate. Seeing it was nearly 200 pounds he walked back into the shipping dock, returned with a forklift and scooped the forks under the crate as he had done a thousand times before. He drove it into a wide open area on the dock where he could breakdown the crate and then deliver whatever was inside to the Council chambers since the crate was too large to fit inside the freight elevator.

  Setting the crate down gently he got off the forklift, grabbed a crowbar from behind the seat and began removing the nails that secured the lid. After about the forth nail, he sensed a foul smell and stood up with his nose to the wind to try and determine the smell’s origin. The building dumpsters were not far from the loading dock and it wasn’t out of the ordinary to have the wind blow a rancid fragrance right into the dock door. The clerk determined that whatever was in the dumpster today, it was especially bad. Removing the last nail, he lifted the lid and threw it on the floor. With the crate now opened it became immediately evident where the smell was coming from. The clerk yelled out in horror and stepped back quickly and then fell over his own feet as he tried to get as far from the crate as possible. Inside was a body in the early stages of decomposition crumpled at the bottom of the crate.

  With his robe pulled up to cover his mouth and nose, he approached the crate slowly and peered inside. The skin on the body was nearly all black which was a sign that the body had been dead for many days, but the smell alone signified that fact. The corpse’s mouth was wide open and the clerk could quickly tell it had no tongue. From the state of the body it was nearly impossible to determine the nationality of the corpse and while the clerk was studying the contents of the crate, he noticed a letter stuck in between the shoulder of the corpse and the side of the crate. With the crowbar, he slid the flat side in between the side of the crate and the corpse, and then slowly pried the corpse away from the letter. To his surprise, the body didn’t move at all, only the shoulder gave way under the pressure of the crowbar and made a sound like breaking into chicken cartilage. The letter was now free however and he slowly moved his hand into the crate as if he were reaching into a box of cobras and carefully pulled the letter out with his two fingers.

  The letter was sealed in an envelope addressed to the Décideurs Council just as the crate was, Where did this come from? he thought, walking back to the forklift to inspect the shipping documents. To his great astonishment it was shipped from the Council of the Nation, which was in the same building as the Décideurs Council, but the geographic origin was Izmir, Turkey. This was obviously an issue with tremendous implications for the nation and the clerk quickly placed the lid back on the crate and pushed it up against the wall with the forklift, then ran to the Décideurs Chambers with the letter.

  ddd

  Hengist was awakened by the captain of his 245 ton yacht with a knock on his cabin door, “We have just docked my lord, Port of Algiers and have announced our presence with the port authority as you desired.”

  “Very good captain, I suspect we shall have official visitors shortly. Stow the cargo and pack the sails, I anticipate an extended stay.”

  Even though the door was still shut, the captain stood at strict attention and saluted, “Yes my lord.”

  Toprak ships were exceptional in both their design and elegance. At 160 feet in length and a beam of nearly 30 feet, it was more like a small cruise ship than a private yacht. Having an aversion to technology, Hengist insisted on having a sailing yacht instead of power yacht. The ketch sail plan allowed the yacht to cruise up to 14 knots and it required a crew of twelve just to handle her 2149 square meters of sail. In addition, Hengist sailed with a hospitality crew of five. Every deck was finished in rich African teak flooring and furniture. All the upholstery was elegantly designed in warm reds, yellows and royal purples. It also boasted enough stowage to circumnavigate the world. In addition to the lavish living space, the ship also contained a large boardroom and sleeping quarters for another dozen men. It was a floating command center and small naval powerhouse. A most odd feature of the yacht was the row of gun ports on each side and a traditional powder keg below decks. The Dutch naval architects that both designed and built her did so according to Hengist’s exacting demands and it was truly a one-of-a-kind, elegant sailing ship capable of fighting a small war when fully armed.

  Hengist came above decks just before ten o’clock after enjoying a full breakfast that consisted of cold meats, sausage, toasted cheese, several slices of pumpernickel bread and black coffee. Hengist surveyed the port and looking toward the large commercial dockyard, he saw a government envoy consisting of four vehicles pulling into the yard, Right on time, he thought, and then calling to his captain he said, “See our visitors into the boardroom with all the pomp and respect deserving.”

  The seven members of the Décideurs Council assigned to meet with Hengist were very carefully chosen since they knew the power that he had, both financially and militarily. Coming through the door into the boardroom, each member of the Council shook hands and bowed respectfully to Hengist as if he were royalty. Hengist continued to sell Toprak’s deception by inquiring where Aldegund was, pretending that he thought he was still in Algiers and was certain he would have attended with them today.

  Every Council member looked grave as they turned to the member of the envoy who was assigned to be the spokesman, “My lord, we have terrible news I’m afraid. This morning your emissary Aldegund was shipped to us in a crate, dead of course. We know this was the work of the Council of the Nation since they proudly paraded their name all over the shipping documents.”

  “What? How could such a thing happen among two friendly entities?” said Hengist perpetuating his deceit.

  “I am very regretfully only now sharing with you the true state of affairs of our nation. The Council of the Nation has been at very warm odds with us—the Décideurs Council—over your great and very much appreciated generosity. Our Council meetings as of late have been held at a secret location in order that we might not be infiltrated by our enemies in the government; your Aldegund had attended such meetings as he would have told you if he had safely returned to you. The crate containing his remains was shipped from Izmir, which is where the assassin hired by the Council of the Nation met up with him. Please pardon my graphic descriptive my lord but his tongue was removed as a symbol that the Council of the Nation will no longer listen to the words of this great Satan in their midst. We also have recovered a letter from within the crate affirming the same message so terribly and symbolically demonstrated in the form of Aldegund’s tortured body.”

  Hengist allowed a tear to escape from his eye as he stared in pretended disbelief, “This is most unfortunate for Aldegund of course but especially for your nation.” He continued to stare off into nothingness as he completely sold his false feelings of heartbreak to the Council, “We had been friends for a great many years,” lamented Hengist, which was in reality true and he did regret the loss of his friend but nothing was more important to Hengist than the mission of Toprak and any loss could be viewed as an important means to an end.

  The room grew very quiet and tense as the spokesman slowly repeated Hengist’s last concerning statement, “Unfortunate for our nation my lord?” Every member of the Council heard the threat and wondered at its meaning, fearing the worst since it was no secret the power Hengist held evidenced by destructive march he and his brother Horsa made through western Asia during the Russian war.

  Hengist stood so as to make his presence and his threat m
ore ominous, “My generosity extended to your country will now of necessity have to be removed, as I’m sure you can understand. Just how ungenerous I will be depends upon…”

  Anticipating that events of the meeting might turn southward with Hengist, the Council had previously planned to accept Toprak’s financial support and military assistance in controlling any uprisings that may result from their decision. The spokesman interrupted Hengist, “My lord, our country needs your favor and support now more than ever. We therefore pray that we might move quickly with your financial assistance and,” the spokesman paused, “And perhaps a military show of force should things turn badly for us,” he said pointing again to the group.

  Hengist had the Council right where he wanted them and he fought back a smile as he marveled at how well Horsa’s plan had worked. Many people wrote off Hengist’s brother Horsa as a very large and stupid soldier whose only skill was death, but to underestimate Horsa was lethal and Horsa used it to his very great advantage both on and off the battlefield. It was Horsa’s idea to kill Aldegund in an effort to turn the tide in their favor in Algeria. Now that everything was going their way, it was time to rush forward with their plans.

  Hengist sat for several minutes not saying a word which had the effect of unsettling the Council even more. The truth was, Hengist was ready to move forward with their request for financial and military support, but he was thinking 30 days into the future and making sure he got everything he needed from the Council while they were desperately against the ropes. At last he sighed and finally spoke appearing as if he had reconciled Aldegund’s death and the Council’s penance, “It is a great evil to allow the actions of a single government body to deny an entire nation of security. While I am deeply troubled over my dear friend’s death, perhaps he is now a martyr for Algeria. I will do as you ask and move quickly with the financial and military assistance you require.” Knowing he had the Décideurs Council so firmly in his hand he couldn’t resist mocking them, “I only ask that you bury Aldegund’s body in the Ketchaoua Mosque as the first martyr of the new Algeria.”

  The Council appeared only slightly surprised but quickly overcame any objection to Hengist’s request, “Of course my lord, we insist upon it. We will see to it right away.”

  “Very well, once I have received word I will initiate the transfer and delivery of the first 800 million in bullion as we have discussed. Until such time, I would very much like to remain in port until all arrangements are made satisfactorily—if that pleases the Council?” said Hengist and he walked toward the door signaling the end of the meeting.

  The steward escorted the Council out of the ship and Hengist retired to his cabin at the rear of the ship which had a full wrap of windows at the stern. He took a seat looking out upon the southern entrance of the port at the old French lighthouse built in the 18th century during the period Algeria was under French rule. He sat in his cabin with a glass of Merlot toasting his own success as he marveled at what he had just done. With only one ship and only one mortality, he had conquered the entire country of Algiers—and without a single shot being fired. He raised his glass of French wine to the lighthouse and toasted out loud, “Here’s to myself and my brother, two Germans who single handedly did what the entire French navy couldn’t. We sailed into port and the Council cowered at my feet and even agreed to bury our spy in their most holy mosque!” He laughed at his brilliance and good fortune, “Ah the spoils of power and the power of the spoils.”

  Just then there was a knock at his cabin door, “You have a herald from your brother my lord.”

  Hengist set his glass on the small table, “Very well, send in the harbinger.”

  A young man about 25 years of age entered the great cabin and sat in a chair with an empty stare and glazed eyes. When Hengist had closed the door and he was sure he was alone, he said the words that had the effect of answering a call on a telephone, “Baslatmak,” which was Turkish for initiate.

  Harbingers related all their heralds in a mixed language of Turkish, German and Russian, three languages Hengist and his brother spoke fluently. It wasn’t a perfect encryption but very few people in the world had command of all three languages and Toprak Esir made certain no employee spoke all three making the communication somewhat secure. Upon hearing Hengist’s command, the harbinger’s head tilted backwards and its mouth began to speak involuntarily.

  Through the harbinger, Horsa informed his brother that the disruption forces in Iran and Iraq that had been used to create the ruse to migrate a refugee army across both countries into Van, Turkey had successfully relocated to Payas, a small Mediterranean fishing village on the coast of Turkey, “Are you ready for the disruption forces in Algeria my lord?”

  Hengist laughed with accomplishment, “Ready my brother. Your plan was flawless in its conception and execution. I will be initiating the first bullion transfer after the holy funeral.”

  “Holy funeral, which holy Muslim died,” said Horsa confused.

  “None—the Council was so firmly in my hand that I did something you would do and I insisted that they bury Aldegund’s body in their mosque—and they whole heartily agreed.”

  Horsa responded in evil delight, “I’m proud of you brother! There is nothing quite so fulfilling as adding an insult to the injured,” as they both laughed.

  Horsa then related to his brother the details and the dispatch of disruption forces from Turkey to Algiers. The trip would take just over four days sailing at 14 knots which should give the Council time to bury Aldegund and receive the bullion. The disruption forces would then parade as the supportive show of force the Council requested. Everything was progressing as planned.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Horsa added nearing the end of the conversation, “The U.S. British ambassador’s mission is accomplished.”

  “That seems a little early or am I mistaken?” said Hengist wondering if the U.S. agenda had progressed faster than anticipated.

  “It is indeed early my lord, the ambassador discovered his harbinger during a herald yesterday and she was able to dispel just enough to relate to her lover—the ambassador—a piece of the herald. Unfortunately, she also related the next move with the Vice President. The ambassador felt he needed to alert the Vice President and luckily I was able to reengage the harbinger just long enough to send a pentacode. I was able to recover the situation but it concerns me that things are getting a little loose with the harbingers. As the Minimum advances, it makes heralding easier but harder to control I fear. Especially where the harbinger is honestly engaged in a loving relationship like the ambassador was with his.”

  “That is concerning, how many harbingers do we have who are romantically involved in the world?”

  “Only seventeen thankfully, and I have already corrected the problem, there will be seventeen mourners tomorrow lamenting the death of their one true love,” said Horsa obviously very happy in his line of work. Horsa, becoming sober again continued, “But we have a problem.”

  “Oh, and what is that, and where?”

  “The problem is a person and that person is Leroy Guiscard. He is more than he seems I’m afraid. The ambassador’s harbinger chased the ambassador into the street and killed him there, there were other casualties of no importance; however, Matthew Hector showed up and about killed our harbinger and probably would have if Guiscard hadn’t showed up.”

  Hengist was now equally concerned, “And you were completely dispelled again?”

  “Yes, as soon as I sensed his presence I even tried to engage at the absolute-level, which as you know almost always ends in death for the harbinger but I was just as easily dispelled by him.”

  Hengist got up from his chair and walked to the stern windows deep in thought, “Is the ambassador’s harbinger still living?”

  “No, it was shot several times by some law enforcement at the scene. Whether it died of those wounds or by Matthew’s or Leroy’s hand I do not know, but the channel is closed now which only means one thing. We have 74
more harbingers in the Washington area so I will have to ensure they do not cross paths with Leroy since his mere presence dispels.”

  There was a long pause in the herald as both Hengist and Horsa considered Leroy Guiscard and what should or could be done. Hengist knew the power of a pure blood, Anglo-Saxon which is why Toprak had been heavily engaged in testing and discovering blood genealogies over the past 10 years. During that time they had discovered several weak lines and had quickly disposed of them if they would not join them, but after 10 plus years, Moran and Toprak were beginning to think a pure line did not exist in today’s world. Hengist hoped they would find the pure line before the effects of the Minimum progressed as far as they had, but now with all of humanity starting to feel its effects, disposing of a pure Anglo-Saxon would be difficult.

  Considering all of the options in using a sergeant like a harbinger, which allowed Horsa to manipulate hosts at any distance, Horsa concluded, “Perhaps I should make a trip to Washington and deal with the problem. I would love to see ol’ Leroy try to dispel me personally.”

  “As fun as that would be we must consider the next 30 days here in Algiers as the most important matter of business, the next 10 years depends heavily upon our success. For now, recruit more harbingers and we shall just have to consider them as more disposable than we once did.” Hengist then considered a loose end they had forgotten about, “Where’s young Veronica these days?”

  Horsa thought and then realized, “I do not know my lord. She was not with Leroy yesterday as she is normally always somewhere near him.”

  “She must be found my brother. An unaccounted for pure Anglo-Saxon is like sleeping in the lion’s den where our only defense is the hope that we awake first. How long has she been unaccounted for?”

  Horsa thought. She had actually been missing for quite some time, ever since Matt and Gus disappeared for a few days, but when they showed up again, Veronica was not with them. Obviously she was somewhere where harbingers currently were not. Even with the thousands of harbingers around the world, there were plenty of places that were blind to Horsa. The last thing Horsa wanted or needed right now was for his brother to lose faith in his abilities. Horsa was slightly irritated at his brother’s demand to find Veronica—after all, a harbinger was never meant to trail anyone they were meant to act like a bug, listening in on various locations. Horsa needed time to come up with a plan of how to find Veronica and then a way to not lose her again. It was obvious that the time had come for Veronica to have a harbinger of her own. Buying himself some time Horsa replied, “Not long. I will instigate a net tonight and chances are she will get caught in it.”

  “Update me in the morning then—I don’t need to tell you how important this is brother.”

  Hengist dismissed the harbinger, since his communication with Horsa was completed. Hengist then called for one of his personal guards, a man he had watched for several years and hand-picked for a very important task; a task very similar to the British ambassador’s mission in the U.S. The soldier came into Hengist’s office and stood at attention while Hengist, his commander looked him in the eye, determining if he were truly ready for the important mission he needed him for.

  “I told you some years ago I had a special assignment for you when you were ready. The time has arrived for the assignment to be executed, have you also arrived?”

  The soldier looked straight ahead and confidently replied, “Yes, my lord.”

  Hengist walked over to a closet, pulled out a trunk, reached into his coat pocket and took out a key to unlock it. Lifting the lid, he pulled out one of many steel canisters approximately fourteen inches long and eight inches in diameter. He placed the canister on the small table and put the trunk back in the closet making sure it was securely locked. He then walked over and sat down holding the canister in his hand inspecting it, “I know you do not know what this is, so listen carefully.”

  He turned the canister over twice revealing the top and bottom sides and on each end there was silver button. “Now if you…” Hengist stopped and noticed the soldier was still standing at strict attention, “At bloody ease soldier, come have a seat so you can see what I’m showing you.”

  The soldier hesitated at first but then recovering took a seat at the small table next to his commander.

  “Notice here the buttons on both ends. You must hold the canister like so and depress both buttons at the same time for a period of about 20 seconds. Once you have done that, you must place the canister on the concrete floor just as I am holding it—horizontally,” said Hengist as he tilted the canister toward the soldier so he could see it clearly. “After you’ve done that, stay with the canister until it begins to expel and fills the room with gas. It will fill the room rather quickly since the contents of the canister are highly compressed at over 100,000 PSI, so whatever you do, don’t drop or damage the container. The gas won’t kill you but the canister exploding will. Once the gas begins to be expelled you should get out as fast as you can, but for the sake of the mission, you mustn’t run or do anything to draw attention to yourself or any kind of emergency.

  The soldier looked very sullen, “So—suicide mission, my lord?”

  “What?” Hengist started to laugh, “Hell no, you won’t die from this. The port authority here in Algiers know our numbers on the ship and after your mission is complete, we will be among the first vessels they check and if I’m missing a man things could go badly for us all. No, this is not a suicide mission; I need you to come back. Once you get clear of the building, you can make whatever haste you desire to get back here. I can’t have a living or dead body of any of my men near this blast. Understood?”

  The soldier nodded but still looked unsure about the mission and the mysterious canister. What was in it if the gas would not kill him or that was otherwise non-lethal to humans and how could it cause an explosion?

  “I’m about to let you in on a Toprak secret. Inside this canister is nothing but ozone, a harmless gas that is found mostly in the upper atmosphere. Ozone is an oxidizer, which is a necessary ingredient in all explosive compounds. Quite by accident my brother and I discovered toward the end of the Russian war—with professor Moran's help—that if vast amounts ozone and concrete come in contact with each other some kinds of concrete explode. The mixture must be right of course and this particular canister has been made especially for the parliamentary house here in Algiers. So what is the magic you ask?”

  The intrigued soldier slightly smiled and nodded.

  Hengist laughed slightly, “Fly ash my boy. Those damn environmentalists have finally given us something we can use, something so valuable and so lethal. Around 1940 the United States started mixing concrete with fly ash which is nothing more than the soot from refineries or refectories—I forget which. Since it contains traces of arsenic they couldn’t just dump the soot anywhere, the environmentalists insisted they find a suitable place to dispose of it. Some brilliant soul suggested they mix it into concrete. Eventually it became a profit center for the refineries and the environmentalists continued to push its use in concrete to the point that today in every country in the world the concrete they use contains vast amounts of fly ash—and therefore—vast amounts of arsenic; and when arsenic and ozone get it on, you have very impressive and very deadly display of fireworks.

  The soldier smiled in amazement and considered all the buildings in the world made with concrete—which was pretty much the whole planet—and how each one was a bomb just waiting for the fuse to be lit.

  “So, now that you know the science, here is your mission. Enter the parliament building from the south entrance, which is the entrance closest to the basement stairway. Once past security, just take the first set of stairs you come too leading downward and you will come to a set of two steel doors.” Hengist handed him a key, “This will unlock the door. Most of the basement is used for storage and near the center of the building is a room of considerable size. This is where you are to dispel the canister. Now, remember I sa
id the mixture must be just right, so after the canister begins to dispel, make sure the steel doors are closed leading to the basement. This is a rather large building which is why this particular canister is so pressurized. Do not be alarmed if you breathe in any of the gas it will not harm you. Once the canister is initiated, we think you should have 15 minutes before party time.”

  Nodding as he understood, “When?”

  “Horsa will be here with the displacement troops on Friday, so your mission will take place on Thursday making Toprak relief troops appear in port as if they were sent from Allah. Then we will crush whatever resistance fighters oppose us and the Décideurs Council, making sure we make a very ugly mess of it all. This will ensure that many civilians will flee the country into Morocco. Then a large portion of our displacement troops will flee over the border with the true refugees into Morocco effectively establishing our military strategy for Gibraltar.”

  Feeling more comfortable in Hengist’s presence the soldier questioned, “Pardon me my lord but why not just invade Morocco as we are Algeria?”

  Hengist got up and put his hand on the soldier’s back as he also stood, “Debt is the means whereby the tail wags the dog. Morocco is financially sound and would never accept a financial bail-out—but in Algeria, we are the bloody saviors and we will pour troops disguised as refugees into Morocco and they with the United Nations will welcome us.” Hengist saw the soldier to the door and returned to his Merlot and continued speaking to himself, “And I will then add all of the country of Algeria to Toprak’s real estate holdings, and all their oil.”