by Blair Wylie
So, Prime Minister Wong always had a large group of loyal followers. He had one more year remaining in his five-year term of office, and he was looking forward to running for another term. His wife was very supportive of him in both their public and private lives. Unfortunately, their eighteen year marriage had not produced any children. Doctors had consistently advised them that they were both, ‘probably infertile to a significant degree’, which really meant they both were completely infertile. However, they chose not to dwell too much on that sad reality. Instead, they devoted themselves to public service, him to government, and her to re-training injured and disabled people who wanted to join the workforce, or to change jobs.
General Jorge Kepler was an imposing, handsome, bear-like man. He was tall and muscular, and had a deep voice. And he had thick black hair everywhere except on his head, which he meticulously shaved for complete and unashamed baldness. Kepler had just turned forty, and he had reached the highest possible rank in the combined-service security organization.
In every rank and in every role, Kepler had always been extremely capable and professional. He was proud of his uniform, and he always wore it whenever he thought he might be caught on camera. He had never married, although a dozen or so women had tried to seduce him, some successfully. A few gay men had also made advances to him, but he was not at all inclined that way. He really was devoted only to his job, and to the security of the four New Earth continents that had been settled to various degrees by human beings.
Doctor Abdul O’Shea was a quiet and introverted man. But he was as intelligent as he looked. When he decided to speak, wise people paid very close attention to what he chose to say. He was freckled and fair-skinned, and his greying hair still had a reddish tint. He wore thick, black-rimmed glasses, and he walked a bit on the slow side, as well as a bit hunched over from spending too many long hours in dark university halls while totally absorbed in study.
But Doctor O’Shea had never worried very much about his posture or his appearance. He was in his mid-fifties, and he was completely devoted to his wife, who was a physics professor, and to their two very bright daughters, who were now both attending university, in ‘preliminary, yet to be determined’ undergraduate programs.
Prime Minister Wong relaxed into his comfortable leather chair and said quietly, “Right, gentlemen, let’s get started then, shall we? This should not take us too long.
“Minister Hernandez and I have both carefully studied the transcripts and the video recording of the contentious Professor Rabinowitz presentation. So, we’re fully up to speed with the many issues it raises. No one else will ever be allowed to see that recording, or to read the transcripts, of course.
“Now, have you completed your interviews with Doctor Rabinowitz, and with Doctor Mugabe?”
“Yes, we have,” growled General Kepler. Then he barked loudly, “It’s been a complete freaking waste of our time! They both have refused to answer our questions, even the most basic ones! This looks like a bloody-minded conspiracy to me! They just want to undermine our authority, and waste our precious resources for their own selfish, academic glory-seeking, or whatever the hell motivates them to act like fools in public…” He trailed off with another growl.
“If I may, I can perhaps offer some insight into their mindset, being a fellow scientist,” interjected Doctor O’Shea quietly. He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. Then he said, “Yes, they are both on the defensive right now, that’s for sure. But that is completely understandable! They see nothing wrong with what they have done, that is, from a scientific and professorial point of view.
“Doctor Rabinowitz believes he has made many highly significant discoveries, and the next logical step in his mind is to openly publish and communicate the results of his recent work to his peer community, for rigorous challenge and debate. That is what true science is all about, after all.
“But I pointed out to him, and to Doctor Mugabe, that they should have recognized the political and social sensitivities involved with this startling, possibly world-shattering suite of incredible discoveries. And I told them they should have remembered and respected the government that funded the extremely expensive archaeological research work on Second Continent.
“And then, to be absolutely clear, I strongly suggested they should have presented the Pyramid Project findings to us first, that is, to ‘we three’, in private. That way, we could have controlled the public messaging properly, and calmly and rationally coordinated the next logical steps.”
“And how did they respond to your obvious words of wisdom, Doctor O’Shea?” asked the prime minister with a grim smile.
“They both got their professorial backs up, and said they would say no more to us without their freaking lawyers present!” snarled General Kepler. He was unusually angry and worked-up.
“General, I directed my question to Minister O’Shea, not to you!” admonished Wong sternly. “Let’s keep this strictly professional, shall we? This is not at all like you, General, and that greatly disturbs me. These clearly are very serious matters. But we are all on the same side, right? So, Abdul?”
“General Kepler is mostly right about what he says,” O’Shea replied slowly. Then he sighed and said, “Except, I sensed they both realised they have screwed-up, big time. They both looked terribly embarrassed at the end of our discussion. They are professionals too, and self-critical to a very high degree. And we did eventually glean from them what they think should happen next.”
“I think Minister Hernandez and I have already guessed what they want,” said Prime Minister Wong with a shake of his head. “They want us to send a highly-specialized, robotic probe directly to this strange moon, and immediately, if possible. Right?”
“That is exactly right, Prime Minister!” replied O’Shea with surprise and a sudden smile. He was impressed that Wong and Hernandez had picked up on the logical next course of action.
“To waste more money and divert more scarce resources away from where we can do the most good!” exploded General Kepler angrily. “We should lock them both up before they do us any more harm!”
Prime Minister Wong suddenly jumped to his feet, stomped over to the window, and stared at the outside world for a long moment. It was a sunny, pleasant, late summer day, but unfortunately, he did not have any time to fully appreciate it.
Instead, he turned around, and stared hard at General Kepler. The general initially stared back, but after a few moments he seemed to melt a bit as self-doubt appeared. Finally, Wong said quietly, “You are missing the obvious security angle here, General, and that greatly disappoints me.
“I want you to study the video recording and presentation transcript again, with deeper, unbiased focus this time. And then I want you to come back to us with a rigorous, unbiased appraisal. Furthermore, I want you to seek out some trustworthy, outside, objective help with your analysis, because I frankly think you could use it. Of course, your advisors will need to obtain the very highest security clearances before you can involve them. That means I will have to formally agree to their involvement. But we can work that through the formal channels, as always.
“I want all of this, General, because I may have a different perspective than you of the ‘big picture’. It is apparent to me that an ancient, intelligent, advanced alien race put immense effort into building a physically impressive structure, possibly for the sole purpose of directing the attention of intelligent creatures like ourselves to a particular, distant moon in our Sol-system. And for some reason, they may also have wanted to continually generate two exotic virus strains far out into the future. Of course, this virus production operation may be a complete red herring, or something that is occurring either naturally or accidentally through currently unknown processes.
“The bottom line though, General, is I want your recommendations on what this proposed ‘deep Sol-system’ probe should be capable of doing, from a security aspect. There are now almost eighty million human beings on this planet,
spread out over four of the five continents. Should we now be worried about the continuation of our peaceful civilisation? And if so, is this an urgent matter, one we should deal with proactively? Furthermore, should we upgrade our military capability in some manner, to potentially neutralize a new threat to our very survival?
“I think it is obvious that we currently do not have enough information to answer such difficult questions. So, we will just have to gather more information, that’s all! And I believe we have to do that immediately, starting with this probe!
“To close, I have instructed Minister Hernandez to start looking at how to include a relatively long-distance space probe mission into our Resource Allocation Plan.”
General Kepler sat quietly for a few moments. Then he took a deep breath, stood up to attention, saluted smartly and said crisply, “Yes, sir! Will that be all, sir?”
Prime Minister Wong also came to attention, and saluted awkwardly in return. By law, he was also de facto Commander-in-Chief, but it was a role he was very uncomfortable with.
Then Wong relaxed, and said with a smile, “No, General, Jorge, please take it easy and sit down again for a few minutes. Thanks! Because there is also of course the immediate pressing matter of what to do with Doctor Mugabe and Doctor Rabinowitz. Any ideas, both of you?”
There was an awkward silence for a few moments. General Kepler was still stinging a bit from the prime minister’s rebuke. Minister O’Shea looked at Kepler with sympathy, then cleared his throat and said quietly, “I don’t believe the two professors are rabid revolutionaries, or anything like that. And I don’t think they have done anything that actually approaches treason.
“But then again, they have struggled over their lives, both of them, to accept over-rule when it comes to their academic pursuits. They have enjoyed a lot of freedom in the university environment, and they are both well-respected leaders in their chosen fields. And they have a lot of like-minded friends! So, I think they could do more mischief if we just turned them loose again after, say, just a ‘hand-slap reprimand’.”
“Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer,” General Kepler offered bluntly. Then he explained, “Gentlemen, the word ‘enemy’ can describe people that do mischief against the state, not just invaders bent on conquest, or hardened criminals bent on thievery, or worse. Anyway, following that particular creed has worked very well for me over the years.”
“Yes, I think the general is absolutely right about that,” said Minister O’Shea in support. Then he smiled at the general, and the general smiled back at him.
“Right, I agree too,” said Wong emphatically. Then he added, “Yes, we will involve them immediately in the Probe Project. We’ll start by asking them what they think the probe should be able to do exactly. And we’ll give them well-defined roles within the Project where we can monitor them closely, and if necessary, restrict their activities and control who they talk to. But for now, until this Project is officially sanctioned, please keep them under very close observation, General.”
Prime Minister Wong paused to stretch his back, and then he said, “Okay, let’s meet again in, say, a month’s time. Minister Hernandez will join us next time. There are huge practical considerations to consider as well, like carving-out sufficient funds, and providing proper resourcing!
“Please do your very best to have your detailed recommendations ready for us to review and consider in our next meeting, General.
“No, on second thought, we will want your recommendations too, Doctor O’Shea, of course, sorry! And I encourage both of you to consult with each other, continuously, so we can all align sooner rather than later on mission objectives. But I suppose it could still take a couple of iterations over a couple of months to get to the final solution. We have to be realistic about these things, of course.
“Okay? Two emphatic nods, in unison! That is always great to see! Then, I’ll bid you both adieu. Have a great day, gentlemen! Enjoy the sunshine outside if you can! I truly wish that I could…” He trailed off with a sad look etched on his tired face.
3
The morning was dragging on, and Doctor Gunter Rabinowitz had still not made his promised appearance for a scheduled clandestine meeting with Doctor Sita Mugabe.
Their meeting had been quickly arranged in the ‘white noise’ security of a busy university hallway. The two tenured professors had agreed in whispers that Sita should leave her home two days later for an early morning ‘recreational nature walk’. She was to depart her home at precisely half-an-hour before Sol-rise.
It was late autumn, and unfortunately, it turned out that the meeting would be occurring on an overcast, windy, drizzly and cold day. With this witch’s brew of obscuring climatic conditions, actual Sol-rise would not be an observable event, rather just a trivial note in the morning weather forecast.
Sita was becoming increasingly worried. Still, she kept walking to the east along the forest trail that ran beside the northern shoreline of Long Lake. She stopped periodically, making it look like she was specifically observing something natural or wild in her surroundings. In actuality, she was paying very close attention to everything surrounding her. As such, she was fairly certain she was not being followed.
The trail had started near the centre of First Town, where Sita lived by herself in a lower-level flat. Long Lake had once been the southern boundary of the first human settlement on New Earth. That settlement, of course, had started out as little more than a crude wooden fort. In fact, it had once been called ‘Hill Fort’.
The surrounding forest was a very creepy place in the dim light. There were many strange rustling sounds, presumably from small wild animals. There were also eerie creaking noises as the gusty wind rubbed bare, gnarly branches together.
Suddenly, Sita heard a very strange high-pitched squeal of sorts over to her left. She stopped and listened for a few moments, and then she heard it again. She could see no path into the forest in the murky light. But she decided she must try to investigate the source of the sound anyway. So, she bravely forced her way through wet shrubbery and undergrowth, and entered into the thick, dark, mostly evergreen forest.
After about a hundred stumbling paces, she froze in panic when a strong hand suddenly shot out of a bush at her side and firmly grabbed on to her right triceps.
“Take it easy, Sita,” she heard in a sharp whisper in her right ear. “It’s me, Gunter. Come over this way a bit. It will be safe enough. Come on, let’s move. Quickly!”
Gunter released his grip, and Sita followed his shadowy, dripping-wet form through the underbrush. The bushes were prickly and unyielding. Leafless branches scratched and whipped across their faces. After five or so minutes of awkward, strenuous struggle, they emerged into a very small clearing. Sita noted that the space was just large enough for a small portable table, and two collapsible canvas stools, that had obviously been set up for their use by Gunter.
“Let’s sit down here, Sita,” suggested Gunter in a quiet voice. Then he said, “I don’t think we’ll have to actually whisper any more, but we should probably keep it down as much as we can. There is no telling where the security force put their spy microphones these days. But enough with the conspiracy theories! Would you like some hot coffee? I brought along a thermos jug full of the stuff.”
Sita sat down cautiously opposite Gunter. The stools were a bit wobbly on the soft, mucky ground. Then she carefully looked around at their cramped, dark and dripping surroundings. Then she smiled weakly and said quietly, “Sure, let’s have some coffee, Gunter.”
Gunter kept his leather gloves on while he filled two tin-plated metal cups with steaming coffee. He gingerly handed a cup to Sita, who was not wearing gloves, and said, “Careful, Sita, use the handle! The thermos jug has kept it really hot, obviously!” Then he took a small sip from his own cup, smiled broadly with satisfaction, sighed with genuine pleasure, and added, “Yes, that is a good brew, even if I say so myself!”
After they had both enjoyed a coupl
e of rejuvenating sips of their coffee, Sita asked quietly, “So, what’s been happening, Gunter? I really did not want to abandon the space probe advisory council, like the press has made out that I did. But frankly, the early discussions were way over my head. And I can contribute far more to the university in so many other ways.”
“Trust me, no one in the know blames you for pulling out, Sita,” replied Gunter as he stifled a sneeze. He pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket, and blew his nose as quietly as he could. Then he sniffed and said, “Sorry, I hope that’s just an allergy from being outside, you know, from mould or dust.”
After another sniffle, Gunter said, “A week ago, I would have said that all you missed was a lot of freaking frustration. It’s been pretty clear that the probe mission was not going to have much of a science focus. Our ideas were just being politely noted without comment or feedback of any kind.
“And clearly, they still don’t trust anyone outside of the military. By ‘they’ I mean the members of the Cabinet. It’s not just you and I that have been under their covert observation, unfortunately. But the military, at least, may have lost interest in day-to-day surveillance of us to a degree. Let’s hope so, anyway.
“You see, three days ago, high-level members of the military told us that they have made a final decision. They said the government has agreed to all of their proposed mission parameters, and full funding of course. They told us the prime minister is going to make a public statement in a few days. And I thought you should hear what the statement will likely be, in advance. I think you’ve earned that courtesy, even if they don’t.”
