WE SAVE THE EARTH
Rho, November 19, 2027. 9:00 a.m.
Tzedek looked at the three huge screens. At his side was Althaea, Nogah, and Damaris. On two of the screens the rest of his team appeared. They closed their eyes, and they were all standing in the white room.
“Are the cities ready?”
“The three cities are ready, Tzedek,” Halius informed him.
“Are all the humans who can serve us already vaccinated?”
“Yes, all those approved are vaccinated,” Althaea confirmed.
“Halius, is the virus ready and distributed?”
“Yes, Tzedek. All the packages are where they need to be, and all the instructions are ready to give at your command,” answered Marsan instead of Halius.
“And the virus is a sure thing?”
“You saw the demonstration,” responded Marsan.
“Does anyone want to say anything before we proceed?”
“Tzedek, I implore you...” begged Nikaia. “We’ve waited this long, can’t we wait longer?”
“Every day that goes by, the risk of being discovered grows exponentially. And anyway, with what objective? Do you really think human beings will change their way of being? Countries will stop their businesses and stop destroying the planet? Maybe you think in a few years humans will reduce the population on their own?” Tzedek’s voice raised.
Nikaia bowed her head, and didn’t say another word.
“That’s what I thought. Daughter, brothers, colleagues, every hour the earth is being irreversibly damaged. It’s like a termite infesting some wood furniture. You can’t save both the furniture and the termites. The furniture can be repaired...to a certain point. And the Earth is already past the point of return, years ago. You know what has to happen. The climate is going to be uninhabitable in a large part of the world. The sea will cover many cities. Drought, hurricanes, earthquakes, and tsunamis will destroy many others. Technology will be lost, primitive religion will prevail, accumulated knowledge will start disappearing and worse, science will be blamed. It will be a bloody apocalypse and in a short time there will be nothing left. Doing it my way, the damage to the planet will stop very soon, the virus will drastically reduce reproduction, the need to produce children, and will eliminate the violence and the passion to destroy. Humans will be happier and at the same time will stop destroying everything. When they are able to understand what the hell is happening, they won’t be able to stop it. In a few years, their population will be declining naturally. And we, having built a reserve of the best humans and best technologies discovered and explored up to this point, will be able to work with those who were vaccinated, who will have more resources and will live better and happier than they do now.”
“Father... there has to be another way. We can’t manipulate an entire species like that,” implored Althaea.
“The other ways have problems. We’ve got to this point. Do you have an alternative to offer?”
Althaea bit her lips, and said nothing more.
Tzedek interrupted the mental connection, but they could still see him with the cameras and screens.
He went to his work desk. On the screen to the left, a browser showed the news he’d just read: “Zero ice in the Arctic this year.” It was almost the middle of winter and there wasn’t even one small iceberg in the Arctic. And earthquakes had increased by fifty percent in the last year. Massive displacements of water had destabilized the Earth’s crust.
He started the program that he’d been saving for some time. He looked at the center screen. He needed something simple, so he’d programmed it himself, a long list of names, locations, telephone numbers and emails. Clicking ‘Start’ would send a simple message to every person on the list, at a precise time the next day. He placed his hand on the right side of the desk, where the sensor scanned his six fingers, and a new window opened on the screen, where he entered a long code of numbers and symbols. The window closed and allowed him to access the program and the trigger.
His hand directed the mouse pointer and placed it over the button, but he still did not press it.
It seemed like such a small thing for an action that would irreversibly change all of humanity...
He looked towards the communication station. They were all looking at him, but no one said anything. Nikaia frowned. Halius and Marsan smiled. Nogah and Ponteus lowered their heads. Althaea looked like she was going to say something, but bit her lips. She knew her father and knew it was useless.
He looked at the screen again. He took a deep breath and pushed the button.
PERFUME
Buenos Aires, November 20, 2027. 9:10 a.m.
The cell phone vibrated. Dolores picked it up, unlocked it, looked at the screen, and felt her heart skip a beat. There was a short message:
“Proceed, 10:00 a.m.”
She had just got to work, and had just got settled at her desk, but after reading the message, picked up her things again, put on her jacket and headed quickly towards the door.
Her bossed frowned and said “Where are you going? What’s happened?”
“It’s an emergency, I’ll call you to explain. It’s a family emergency.”
She ran out, not waiting for an answer. They might fire her, but after this, it wouldn’t matter whether she had a job or not.
She had just enough time. She went to the subway that headed towards the center, and while she waited, she checked to make sure she had everything in her briefcase that she needed. Not by chance, but because she was a methodical person, she had followed the instructions she’d received to the letter, so she always had in her briefcase a neatly folded cleaning employee’s apron, a key, and the small sealed cylinder of perfume that had been delivered to her.
She arrived barely ten minutes before the hour. The Central Bus Terminal was chaotic with people, as always. Transports from all directions came and went every few minutes. She went to the cleaning supply closet, and made sure there was no one around before using the key she had in her bag, which easily opened the door. She put on the apron and put the cylinder in her pocket. She left the briefcase in a corner, took a bucket, a cleaning rag, a towel and brush, and closed the door. Her mouth felt dry, but it didn’t seem like anyone was looking at her.
A voice was constantly heard over the loudspeakers announcing the arrival or departure of this or that bus, the company, and its destination or origin.
She went into the restroom with the bucket and cleaning things. There were many women, but none of them paid any attention to her. She went toward the back of the restroom, where the automatic perfume sprayer was. She unplugged it, opened it, and took out the little cylinder of perfume which she threw in the bucket. She took hers out of her pocket, identical in size and shape but with no marks or inscriptions. She broke the seal, placed it carefully in the machine, closed it, and plugged it in again. A green light came on in the device, and she heard the ‘pfff’ indicating that the sprayer had been activated for the first time.
She looked around. No one was looking at her. No one noticed the ‘cleaning lady.’ She left the bathroom and went back to the cleaning supply closet, left the things, picked up her bag, and calmly left.
What she had done didn’t bother her much, maybe it was a hidden camera or a practical joke. What was really important to her was the fortune they’d deposited in her account, plus the promise of more when he’d finished the job.
Hundreds of busses came and left that day, to multiple destinations around the country and others bordering it. Thousands of women passed through that restroom that day. Exposed to the pure virus sample, each one of them was immediately infected, and began, in turn, to infect others before a couple of hours was up.
The sprayer had enough in it to work for more than twenty-four hours. Dolores didn’t know and didn’t have any way of knowing that a male had done the same in the men’s restroom, and this had been repeated in many public restrooms with automatic perfume dispensers. Or that other methods ha
d also been used to distribute the virus all over the world, at the same time.
At the end of the day, that small sprayer in the women’s restroom had directly infected twenty-five thousand people, and more than one hundred fifty thousand indirectly.
Dolores thought about going back to work, but with the money they’d deposited in her account for that task, she wouldn’t have to work for several months. Besides, she suddenly didn’t feel well.
On her way home, Dolores infected more than two thousand people on the subway. When she arrived, she made some tea and took it to her bedroom. She laid down to rest and fell asleep.
She never got her tea.
TERRORIST
London, November 20, 2027. 9:12 a.m.
Basaam Azer was at home, watching news on TV when he heard a message coming in on his phone. Irritated at the interruption, he took it out of his pocket, unlocked and looked at it. He had an incoming text message. He clicked on the message and read:
“Proceed. 12 a.m.”
He felt a huge smile forming on his face. The moment had arrived.
He went to his safe and entered the digital combination to open it: 960525958. His birthdate—year, month and day, and the last three numbers of his passport. A green light went on in the box and it unlocked. He took out a key.
He went to the built-in cupboard, took everything off of the shelf inside, and lifted up the floor. He leaned it against the bed, inserted the key, turned it, and a panel lit up on the side. He pressed his right thumb on the corresponding space, waited to hear the ‘beep’ and then pressed the digits that the briefcase was waiting for: 859525069, the previous password but in reverse. The briefcase made a loud ‘click’ and unlocked. He carefully opened the top and there was the vest. His smile now reached his ears. He stroked his beard without realizing it.
Taking it out of the briefcase, there were a few small cylinders left, transparent on one side and metallic on the other. He spread out the vest on the bed, carefully took out one cylinder after another and put each one it its place inside the jacket with the transparent side facing out as he’d been instructed. Then he made sure that the battery was disconnected and adjusted the electrodes that were ready for each cylinder. He very carefully connected the detonator to the battery. He took the last thing he needed from the briefcase, a small remote control with just one button. He pressed the button on the detonator that said ‘Test,’ and a yellow light lit up on the detonator. He pressed the button on the remote control and the yellow light started to blink. Perfect. Then he pushed the button that said ‘Armed,’ turned off the yellow light and a red light came on. Last, he connected the detonator to the circuit.
He took the key out of the briefcase, now empty, closed it and hid it where it was before. He replaced the floor, put the things back where they were, put the key back in the safe, and locked it. He took a look around and made sure everything was in order. They would certainly find everything afterwards, but he didn’t want any surprises ahead of time.
He got the jacket and put it on carefully. Luckily, the day was sunny but very cold. It was the end of autumn, but winter was coming in, so he put a jacket on. That wouldn’t raise any suspicions.
He put the remote control in the right pocket of the jacket, took his house keys and went out. He shut the door and put the keys in the left pocket. He went out to Brewer Street, where he lived over a local Scoop shop, and walked seemingly calmly towards Whitcomb Street. He walked about ten blocks along it until he reached Pall Mall E. He sighed resignedly. It was only 10:30 and there wasn’t anything to drink around here. Although he was tempted to go ahead, he knew that the success of the mission depended on the schedule. At twelve, there would be a lot more people than now. He kept walking, mingling with the tourists. He walked a few blocks along Strand Street and saw a McDonald’s. Instead of the red and yellow colors of the restaurant chain, here it was “English green” and yellow. He wondered if the hamburgers would be as bland and of such poor quality as all English food, or if they would be more American style. Well, as tempting as it was, he couldn’t risk someone suspecting something, so he went on.
He walked, and walked, in circles, but making sure to not pass by the same place too many times so as not to attract attention to himself. He kept getting nearer so that at five to twelve, he would arrive again at Trafalgar Square. There were police strategically placed, but none of them gave him a second glance. At this hour, the square was full of tourists. There was a small orchestra giving a free concert on the square on the stairs beside the National Gallery, so there was a crowd filling half the square. He went in the side asking permission when possible, and nudging and pushing when necessary, until he got to the center of the crowd. It was twelve.
His seventy-two virgins were waiting for him. His whole family would be proud of him. He touched his wallet in his back pocket, where he had his passport so they would know afterwards who he was. He took a deep breath, took the remote control in his right hand, unzipped the jacket and took it off. Two or three people screamed when they saw the vest, but they didn’t have time to attack him or to run. While the jacket fell, even before it hit the ground, Basaam shouted “Allāhu akbar!!” and pressed the button. The detonator sent the signal to the cylinders. Each cylinder had an explosive charge in the form of a tube on the inner side. They all exploded at the same time, outward, sending a cloud of vaporized liquid more than one hundred fifty feet away. Meanwhile, almost all of the splinters from each cylinder went inward, embedding themselves in Basaam’s internal organs. People erupted in panic and stampeded, several dying trampled by the crowd, but none from the explosion. Basaam, who fell to the ground with a paper-white face, looked incredulously at the blood that gushed from his innards, supported only by the fibers left from his vest. The explosion was supposed to have blown up all those infidels. And he should have evaporated. They had betrayed him. Everything had been in vain.
The police came running in less than two minutes later, but Basaam was already dead, and there was no one near him.
Of course, they did find his documents, and the media reported it—along with his name, together with the names of the fifty other terrorists that had detonated bombs the same day throughout England and many other countries.
The forensic investigators who studied the crime scene and the police who interrogated the witnesses they could find, discovered that the bomb ‘vaporized’ a liquid that covered everyone there. At first, they feared that it was a neurotoxin or some kind of acid, but they didn’t see anyone directly affected by the explosion. And besides, in that open square, there was no way to keep people from running away without preparing for it beforehand. Too many exits, too many places to escape and hide.
The next morning, the police, the security people who were in the area, the firefighters who handled the remains of the bomb, and more than a thousand people who were near Basaam and survived the explosion, all had light fevers and sneezing. A cold, they thought, without giving it any thought. During the day, every one of them inadvertently infected several hundred people.
By the end of the day, they had infected some twenty-eight thousand people, and more than half already had symptoms.
JOKE
Bombay, November 20, 2027. 9:15 a.m.
Baka was happy. With what they’d paid him to do this joke, he’d be able to take a break for several months.
The train was coming and was going to pass under the bridge where he was. He hurriedly mounted the tank, as they had taught him, against the railing and passed the small hose connected to the base between the lattice of the bridge, so that the tip was hanging over the tracks. He saw that the train was almost under him, so he pressed the button on the tank, and saw a fine spray that fell down on the people who were traveling on the roof of the train, hanging from the doors, and out of the windows. Baka laughed to see the faces that the travelers made when they felt the wetness. For Brahma, this was so funny he’d have done it for free.
The contents of t
he tank were just enough for the length of the train. When he was sure that no more liquid was coming out, he left it as they’d instructed him, and walked towards the nearest market to buy something to eat to celebrate. With the money he had, he’d be able to even buy the services of a woman if he wanted to, but suddenly he didn’t feel very well. He sneezed.
POLITICS
Missouri, November 20, 2027. 10:45 a.m.
Huckabee was campaigning in his city, for his second presidential term. This bastard had ruined the country, and still had the nerve to pretend to keep governing. “I need more time,” he said in his speeches, and the worst thing was that the brainless sheep agreed with him and gave him their votes.
Today he was giving a speech on a stage in front of a huge crowd. It would be the perfect occasion to save the country from that plague, and from a large number of his imbecile followers.
Rambo had a lot of weapons, but for this job, none of them would work. Fortunately, a contact who knew a friend of a friend helped him arm himself with what would be useful. A bomb vest, like a terrorist’s. His name wasn’t Rambo, of course, but he couldn’t help but think about himself with that name. He was in the war, fought for his country, and then, first they forgot him, and then harassed him during the presidency of this lunatic. He was too old to fight the government, and with no family, retirement, or place to live, he didn’t have anything to lose. Well, now they’d all pay together. It felt like his heart was going to come out of his chest with excitement.
He was surrounded by the crowd, a few feet from the stage where Huckabee spoke enthusiastically. And he couldn’t wait any longer. He opened his jacket and his heart went into arrhythmia. He felt a sharp pain and a tingling in his whole body but above all in his head, while everything went dark around him. He tried to press the button, but suddenly, he lost consciousness. Several people around him saw it and shouted for help but shouted more when they saw what he had under his jacket and fled in panic.
Earth Keepers Page 8
