by Geoff Wolak
‘Maturity rate?’ Anna asked.
‘They will stop growing age fifteen,’ Sandra explained.
The next day, I figured I would introduce Sandra and Jesus to the media, something we had avoided up to now. I hesitated, and called Jimmy, who explained that Baldy’s world would open a portal to Sandra’s old world in a few years anyway. I felt better, and took the Seether around to our TV studios. Settled down, they were asked questions by a local African presenter.
‘You both speak English?’ she asked.
‘Yes, we are degree students, and learnt English in school,’ Sandra announced.
‘And I understand that you are from the future on your world?’
‘Yes, from a time roughly a century from the date where Mister Paul is helping.’
‘A hundred years into the future?’
Jesus nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘I understand that there are some things you cannot discuss, but what is that society like?’
‘When we left, Mister Silo was making changes,’ Sandra explained. ‘Our world is not as nice as yours.’
‘What differences are there?’
‘Our government is very strict with the people, and breeding is restricted,’ Sandra explained.
‘Having children … is restricted?’
‘By law,’ Sandra explained. ‘You must apply for a license, and they are very hard to get.’
‘To keep the population stable?’
‘And to make sure that just the offspring of the rich and of the government officials are raised.’
‘That sounds … terrible. What else does your government do?’
‘They suppress political parties, and Christianity.’
‘Your people … are Christian?’ a surprised presenter queried.
‘We have a secret underground movement,’ Jesus explained. ‘We meet in secret.’
‘They sound very repressive. But Mister Silo is changing things?’
‘We can’t really say,’ Sandra began, her big black eyes blinking. ‘We only know some of what the Great Prophet is doing.’
‘Great … Prophet?’
‘To our people, Mister Silo is known as the Great Prophet and ancestor,’ Sandra explained. ‘There was a time when humans moved freely on our world, but then the government asked them to leave. There have been no humans on our world for almost sixty years, and then there were just a few. The Great Prophet’s return caused a stir in the people, all news outlets showing his image. We left that day, invited here by the Great Prophet; an honour.’
‘What was … the population of your people when you left?’
‘I believe five billion.’
‘Similar to Earth. And your people populated all continents?’
‘They did, with governments on each.’
‘And wars and conflicts?’ the interviewer probed.
‘There has not been a war for almost sixty years.’
‘Did you travel into space?’
‘We have a space station, and we sent small probes to Mars, but our people have not been further yet.’
The reporter changed tack. ‘How did you two meet?’
‘In college, a party,’ Jesus explained. ‘I was drunk, and sick, and Sandra helped me.’
The interviewer faced Sandra. ‘Did his being sick not put you off?’
‘At first, yes, I thought he was an idiot.’ Jesus gave her a quick look. ‘But he came to my room a few days later with a gift, and thanked me. He then pretended that he was stuck on a mathematics problem, and I assisted him.’
‘Did he grow on you?’
‘He did, and he brought food. I would tidy his room, which was always a mess.’
‘Sounds like my college room,’ the presenter quipped. ‘Did you … enter into a relationship then?’ the interview delicately nudged.
‘Our people … especially our young people … tend to opt for computer sex first.’
The interviewer blinked. ‘Computer sex?’
‘We have computers and machines that allow someone a long way off to simulate sex with a partner, including sensual touch,’ Sandra explained, not at all embarrassed.
‘We had Stickam in my day,’ the presenter quipped. ‘Simple video links.’
‘Our equipment allows for complete sex, but with no chance of a pregnancy,’ Jesus explained.
‘Wow, true online sex. Is that because on your world breeding is selective?’
‘Yes, the government supplies the machines,’ Sandra explained.
‘And … the numbers of partners?’
‘Some choose many partners, most just one,’ Sandra replied.
‘And what other recreational activities do you have?’
‘We have many sports, like here,’ Jesus replied. ‘Many sports played in college.’
‘What’s food like over there?’
‘Similar to here, with chicken, lamb, fish, fruits and vegetables,’ Jesus listed off. ‘The food is very similar.’
‘And television?’
‘Most is state controlled, such as the news,’ Sandra complained. ‘But we have movies and comedies.’
‘Thank you for your time today.’ The interviewer shook hands with both guests.
I was happy enough, but made sure that the programme had a 9pm cut-off; no kids to watch it. And, yes, the next day I got emails from various groups asking if the sex machines would be a good money-making idea here. I offered a collective “no comment” and would not be drawn on it, especially not in Africa. They were a little prudish around here.
End of innocence
A day later, sat near the pool, I thought I saw something in the air above the lake. I shook my head, but again noticed something a few minutes later, this time stood puzzling it. I took a step, and time started to move slowly.
A shot rang out, a pain in my side registering. I looked down. Blood seeped through my t-shirt, and I stood staring at it. A scream went up, and I turned to see Selemba in the pool. Selemba had not screamed, a maid had, caught by a ricochet.
Seeing Selemba, I took a large step and dived in as a second shot sounded out, hitting the water clothed and soon submersing. Seeing me dive in, Selemba dove down to join me, thinking it a game, Klok and Chime darting around me like little penguins. I blew out and let myself sink, Selemba copying, and I hovered near the bottom of the pool, looking up at the shadows of people running about.
A guard in a suit burst through the surface, soon down to me. I held up the diver’s OK signal, and indicated that I would stay here. He swam up and exited the pool. Seeing a sunshade covering a corner of the pool, I swam towards it, Selemba close by, and I eased my head up tight into the corner of the pool, a six inch concrete buffer between me and whoever was shooting. I caught a breath, the sun shade covering many angles from the lake, which was where I figured the shot had come from.
‘Stay there, sir,’ came a voice. Someone knocked over a table and placed it near my head.
I could hear the house alarm sounding out, despite the water in my ears. Turning my head, I could see Helen in a doorway, guards just outside, weapons prone. I lifted my hand and waved, again giving the OK signal. Helen could see Selemba’s face next to mine, and so must have been reassured – to some degree.
A dark shadow caught my attention, and I looked up to see the underside of a military helicopter, the damn thing little more than ten feet above my roof. Two missiles shot out towards the lake, and I could both hear and feel the explosions. More missiles followed as I tried to observe, following by what sounded like millions of rounds of fifty calibre ammo being fired at something.
Two guards appeared with bullet-proof shields, one throwing a smoke canister towards the lake. ‘On my mark, sir! Get ready!’
I moved to the shallows and grabbed the wriggling Selemba. ‘Food,’ I said in a high pitched voice.
‘Now, sir!’
‘I eased up and stepped out of the pool, dripping onto the paving slabs, bent double whilst blanketed by the shields, soo
n at the house and inside.
‘The kids!’ Helen shouted.
‘At the bottom of the pool, and none the wiser,’ I said as I was handed a towel. ‘Leave them there.’ A guard attended my side, sticking on a sterile pad.
Kenyan Rifles burst out of a side door, the helicopter still firing at something, a hell of a drone created. A wall of soldiers soon cut the garden in half, eyes everywhere, weapons facing the lake.
Now with a tracksuit on, I peered out of my bedroom window, just as the roar of a jet coincided with two missiles hitting the lake. A huge plume of white water rose into the air. Now I could see gunboats in the distance, and hear a pop-pop-pop. Mortars landed on the lake a hundred yards out from the end of my garden, plumes sent skyward. Peering upwards, I could see at least six helicopters, above them a dozen fighters circling like vultures.
My primary bodyguard rushed in. ‘Sir, we think the sniper was on the lake, maybe a diver.’
‘Be a diver with a headache now,’ I said, peeking through the curtains.
‘We’re going house to house, searching everywhere, helicopters with scanners checking everything local. He couldn’t have got far; the country is on lock down.’
I faced my guard, a British man from 2048 on my old world, and took a moment. ‘I don’t think they’ll find anyone.’
‘What do you mean, boss?’ He closed in.
‘I saw something, like a stealth drone, only silver and … see-through, like it had light-bending properties.’
‘A stealth drone? Jesus. But no one has one that’s invisible to the naked eye.’
‘They do now.’
The man lifted his radio. ‘All units, all units, principal witnessed a stealth drone at the time of the attack, a new cloaking technology in use. All eyes on the sky, all eyes on the sky.’
I led my guard down, consoling Helen, who was now holding a wriggling Selemba. The pool boy had risked the sniper, and fished out Klok and Chime, the two now squawking loudly.
‘Who the hell would do such a thing?’ Helen said with some venom.
‘Two rounds were fired, and fired from a stealth drone,’ I reported.
‘A stealth drone? Only a government would have one!’
‘This was no government. That stealth drone could have dropped a tactical nuke or grenade, and easily hit us all with a laser. Who the fuck fires bullets from a stealth drone?’
‘Then maybe there was a sniper after all.’
‘Snipers don’t use bullets, love, they used lasers. And snipers don’t miss. This … this is odd, very odd.’
The head of PACT stepped in fifteen minutes later, along with a senior police officer. ‘Country is on lockdown, they won’t get far. Sir, this … stealth drone claim.’
‘I know what I saw, and you won’t find a body in the lake, or a sniper.’
‘So far there are no signs of anyone, anywhere nearby. House cameras show no movement on the lake other than a splash, which could have been a croc.’
‘Why did you shoot up the lake?’ I asked.
‘Guard saw the splash and something like a diver, probably a croc. We’ll analyse the images soon. But, we’ve found no snipers in the area, and we have every cop and every citizen looking. No one could be that invisible.’
‘Until I say otherwise, you’ll scan for a stealth drone,’ I forcefully told the head of PACT.
‘Yes, sir.’ He stepped away.
‘You wish to stay here, sir?’ the police asked.
‘No, we’ll move after dark, several decoy convoys.’
I was handed a data-pad, Jimmy’s image on it. ‘You OK, Paul?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, fine, just a scratch.’
‘A sniper?’
‘No, a stealth drone; I saw it twice. It sparkled, but was mostly invisible.’
‘A … stealth drone? That could only be a government.’
‘A government that fires bullets, not lasers.’
‘That … does seem an odd use of a stealth drone. Upset any college kids of late?’
‘Someone, somewhere, got a stealth drone, and fitted a gun, so maybe they found a crashed drone and repaired it.’
‘I’ll check with every world, but I’ve not heard of an optically invisible drone yet. Still, it’s possible. And the timing is odd.’
‘Yeah, I introduce Selemba and the Seether to the world, now this.’
‘Yes, an awkward coincidence,’ Jimmy agreed. ‘But getting that drone to New Kinshasa would have been hard, it would have taken weeks. I’ll check all radar logs. You’ll stay there?’
‘We’ll move tonight when it’s dark; decoy convoys.’
‘Just like the old days,’ Jimmy sighed. ‘Thought we were beyond all that.’
‘Who has anything to lose by our relationship with the Seether?’ I posed.
‘No one, unless racism is a factor. Everyone is being awarded contracts in the space programme, so everyone is happy.’
‘And Selemba?’
‘No one from their future would attack her, since if they succeed they’d all disappear.’
‘Maybe someone wants them to all disappear.’
‘If they do, then they are … not from around here, or from this time.’
‘Hence a nifty new stealth drone.’
‘That fires bullets?’ Jimmy queried.
‘Maybe the drone’s weapon system was damaged, and they had to make do.’
‘That would suggest a post-apocalyptic world somewhere.’
‘Will the Seether attack anyone in the future?’
‘No, that’s why we’re involved. And they’d come for me, not you.’
An hour later I received a call; an odd radar track had been recorded this morning, very faint, and not setting off any alarm bells. Something dropped out of orbit and headed for New Kinshasa, and for my mansion. I declared an emergency for Africa, all Air Force units to full alert, but Jimmy declared a global emergency on all worlds. We had alien intruders. Those alien intruders - from a galaxy far far away - used dated rifles, .303 calibre, but they were a threat none the less.
Jets screamed over New Kinshasa for an hour, radar ghosts chased down. Then it got interesting. A circling Trophy F29 picked up a faint, yet a definite radar silhouette, and vectored towards it, but clipped something with its wing, losing the end of its wing, its pilot ejecting after nosing the aircraft away from populated areas. That confirmed it, and all worlds went on full war alert, the skies being keenly scanned.
We moved to a hotel that evening, and took an internal room on a low floor, security tight. I contacted the volunteers, and sent a shitty note: If you cannot build a scanner capable of finding that ship, then you are unworthy of an Ebede education! They were shocked, horrified, but then got the coffee on, up all night. In the morning, the Air Force altered a few radars, and pointed thermal scanners towards the heavens. All jets were removed from the area, as well as all civilian traffic, the skies clear and blue at dawn.
On the ground, soldiers awaited the signal. When a flare was released, some eight thousand soldiers fired their laser weapons up at random into the dawn sky, a haze of green and amber light created. A window cleaner, on the roof of our tallest hotel, then radioed in that there was something odd floating above the hotel. Laser weapons were directed above the hotel, soon the outline of something distinct glimpsed. All weapons that could be aimed towards the object were brought to bear, an innovative group of soldiers firing old shoulder-launched rockets towards the object, which was now glowing red. The missiles impacted something, windows broken in the hotel.
The object slowly started to move west, still being fired at, and still glowing red, the odd spark witnessed. But then a helicopter pilot went and did a very brave, and a very stupid thing. He came in at high speed, the soldiers below easing their fire, and slammed his rotor-blades into the translucent red object. The helicopter disintegrated, the red object moving off at speed, and soon lost. People on rooftops reported seeing flames and sparks coming from it. Whatever “it�
�� was, it had taken a beating before fleeing.
Jimmy had arrived back an hour earlier, and now gave a message to the assembled Rifles in the main square, not far from his own statue. With his fist in the air, he shouted, ‘Rifles one, aliens nil.’
The soldiers all whooped and shouted, their blood up. He joined me at the hotel half an hour later.
‘We damaged it, whatever it was,’ Jimmy reported to Susan and me. ‘But it resists laser blasts, and fares quite well against helicopters slamming into it.’
‘The pilots?’ I asked.
Jimmy took a moment. ‘Four men dead, two on the ground, plus a few injuries.’
His pad bleeped, and he raised it to show me an image. ‘That’s what it looks like, twenty metres or so long.’
‘Sleek bird, and no external vents by the look of it,’ I noted. ‘Ever seen anything like it?’
Jimmy shook his head. ‘It’s very advanced, way more advanced than either us … or even the future Seethans.’
‘So why fire old-fashioned bullets?’ Susan puzzled.
‘That … makes no sense at all,’ Jimmy said with a sigh. ‘Unless, as Paul suggested, they found a damaged ship without weapons, yet still wanted to kill Paul. But I can’t believe that a ship like that could not have killed you, Paul.’
‘If I was the target,’ I put in.
Susan was horrified. ‘They came for Selemba?’
I shrugged. ‘Future queen. And on the Seethan world, they hide away their queens because the opposition try and bomb the hatcheries.’
‘That had occurred to me too,’ Jimmy admitted. ‘But who wants Seethan history undone?’
‘Future humans?’ I ventured. ‘After some great war?’
‘To consider that … is to consider that we fail on the Seethan world, and that we fail here as well,’ Jimmy said. ‘But, a hundred years from now, who knows what the human race will be like.’
Then the world stopped turning, and fell in on me. Ten miles west of New Kinshasa, on the road to Forward Base, a body was seen falling from the sky and impacting the roof of a small lodge, going through the roof. First on scene described the body as being Seethan.
I almost fell into my chair, stunned, Helen and Susan concerned for me.
