Magestic 3

by Geoff Wolak

  With football currently suspended, I would often pop down to the construction site and hand out food, the stands growing every day. One stand had been completed, but I ordered extra stairs built to ease crowd control. It was all ugly grey concrete with rough edges, but it was practical and functional.

  But the snow on the ground set me to thinking. I conducted a review of the educational films, finding that they were still popular, and sat down with Henry and the team to discuss additional films, and what messages should be put over. But I considered that we needed to advance the Seether and Preether, and that meant socially. But most social advancements came from free time, and free time meant the automation of household chores.

  I then discovered that just one in three houses had a TV, few in the hills, and that most people lived in hostels, often huddled around just the one TV set – after its valves had warmed up. I asked the President if we could bring in a few TV sets, and give them out. He was not averse to the idea. I sent back a signal, to Africa on my old world, 2048, and could they mass produce a cheap TV set that would pick-up the Seethan broadcasts?

  It was only a week later that the first ten sets arrived, as a trial. We set them up in the embassy, in the rooms of the Seethan minders. Switched on, the TV’s showed the same grainy black and white images, but a crisp and clear representation of those grainy black and white images, two channels available. They worked, they were cheap, and they had adapters that would utilise the crap Seethan electricity, which suffered “brown outs”.

  Pleased with the TVs, I asked for five hundred to be delivered, and after a Christmas break with Susan and the boys I began handing the TVs to hostels, and had them delivered to homes and hostels in the hills, many being delivered by helicopter. The sets needed to be explained, and wired up, but after that there was just on/off and channel 1 or 2, the words in Seethan. Our ambassador in Preether took delivery of a hundred and issued them locally, starting with the larger hostels. Not to upset the cronies, he gave twenty to the government first.

  I had also given twenty to the Seethan Government, with the promise of more to come, and I was certain that the local TV manufacturers would not be copying our TVs. Next came washing machines. They did exist, but tended to be large, and used only by commercial laundries. Our car plant people were handed a specification, and produced a smaller version very quickly. And those car plant workers, they were now coming along. They enjoyed films most evenings, many had been injected, and they received extra food and enjoyed better wages than most. They were motivated.

  The first few washing machines to be produced were then pinched by the car plant managers themselves, who put them in a room near the staff canteen. Any member of staff could now bring a clothes bag to work and wash their clothes, and dry them as they went about their daily tasks. I was impressed by the level of inventiveness.

  The next few machines off the assembly line were handed free to those hostels were the car plant lads lived. Those lads now had several TVs, and a washing machine to save time and money, and we had cut their daily working hours from ten a day to eight. Our lads sat about chatting, played cards, played football when the weather permitted, or watched TV. They even read the local rag newspaper, a paper that would have made Stalin proud of its level of control.

  I was giving the working class Seethan a glimpse of a middle class lifestyle, and I wanted them to have time on their hands, to lift their heads up and see the world around them, and not just trudge to work each day, and trudge home to sleep. Our car plant workers also benefited from data-pads, and watched films most every evening.

  The TVs continued to arrive, apart from when roads were blocked with snow, and when the roads south were impassable the TVs went to local homes and hostels instead. Washing machine production was steady, and we now operated three at the embassy, our washing being done by the Seethan minders, which was probably not what the President had intended when the men had first been assigned to us.

  I then considered boosting the population, but Jimmy said ‘no’ when I mentioned it. He wanted me to hold off on that one. There was, of course, a natural boost coming from more food and more oil, less of a mortality rate for the Seether. And, hatcheries had not been bombed since we got here.

  One day, Henry remarked that the car plant staff were picking up English, and quickly. It had come about simply because there were no Seethan words for many technical items and technical processes, so our instructors used English. The Seether adopted the words, and might then use them at home in the hostels. They also copied what the instructors said to each other, and yes/no, please/thanks, up/down, were now common around the city apparently. And the football players, they had a wide vocabulary of English to describe new words. Unfortunately, “pass the fucking ball, asshole” was now in regular use.

  Then we had a breakthrough, of sorts. The Seether, discovering that they had plenty of oil, sold some to the Preether at a border point. Our drones had caught the action. I invited the President down, a fine but cold day, the snow frozen and crisp.

  With him and his cronies settled, I began, ‘We would like to help peace between the Seether and Preether. Our eyes see everything, and we see oil sold to the Preether. If you will sell more oil to the Preether, and at a good price, we will give you the new TV sets, and you can sell them.’

  He shrugged. ‘OK.’

  I exchanged a look with Henry. ‘We shall bring in more TV sets and give them to you. Please send the Preether more oil.’

  With the President gone, I said, ‘That was easy.’

  ‘Too easy,’ Henry remarked. ‘So I suspect they’re up to something.’

  I sloped off worrying. Figuring that they probably were up to something, I gave it some thought, then had the Wyoming fields scanned in detail, that detail sent across to various mining and oil experts on 1938-world. It turned out that the Seether had withdrawn from large areas of Wyoming, since directly pumped oil was easier and cheaper to extract. The Seether had a surplus, so we were nudging them towards doing what they had planned anyway – and throwing TVs at them for nothing.

  Feeling that we should risk it, I asked if the President would sit down and talk peace with the Preether. Pleb came back and told me that an accord had just been signed. Wyoming’s sand-oil fields would go to the Preether, and both sides agreed not to attack the other. I was dumbfounded, and sat with Henry, both taken aback.

  I linked in to Jimmy, and he said, ‘Ebb and flow, ebb and flow. They might not do anything for the next ten years, then bang. And they are due to fight a major war. Do what you can in the peaceful times to bring them along.’

  Peace in our time, I considered. Well, for a while, and until some arsehole of a President came around and started a war for some reason best known only to him. And ten years from now, the technology on this world will be much better, the populace better educated, meaning that the war would cause more damage. I packed a bag and took a holiday, planning on taking Susan and the boys to see Helen.

  At the house I found Jimmy. ‘You seeing my wife?’ I quipped.

  ‘Does she need a real man?’

  I gave him a pointed finger and kissed my sometimes wife.

  Jimmy faced her. ‘Anyway, times up. Twenty bucks.’

  ‘Twenty bucks?’ I asked as Susan handed over Canadian dollars.

  ‘I bet Susan that you’d not spot the obvious under your eyes, and … I won.’

  ‘You are seeing my wife.’

  Susan gave me a look. ‘The Seether.’

  ‘What … about them?’

  We all sat down, drinks served. ‘First, where did the language come from?’ Jimmy asked.

  ‘They … made it up when left alone,’ I suggested.

  ‘They were left by English scientists, who by all accounts lived with them for a while,’ Jimmy countered with. ‘So why not speak English?’

  ‘I have puzzled that, but I figured they were left alone as kids.’

  ‘I have hundreds of people pointing out to me what you
missed - every week,’ Jimmy teased. ‘If a group of kids were left alone, would they build bomber aircraft three generations later? No, not a hope in hell. They’d be lucky not to be cannibals, and might just have invented the wheel.’

  ‘There was lots of technology left lying around,’ I countered with.

  ‘And would they understand it? No. It takes decades to build aircraft, and you start simple and advance. Seen any early editions, bi-planes?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘That’s because in the past seventy years or so, the Seether have advanced at least four hundred years, and then with help.’

  ‘How’s … that possible?’ I puzzled.

  ‘They were taken elsewhere, at least many were, taught, given a language, and returned,’ Susan stated.

  ‘By the future Seether,’ I realised. ‘Who wanted to boost their future society, by a boost in their past.’

  ‘Yes,’ Jimmy agreed. ‘And a study of their language suggests that it’s not an Earth language, picked up by survivors of the war – although we know about people like the cannibals.’

  ‘Who spoke English,’ Susan pointed out.

  Jimmy nodded. ‘But their language has English structures, and could not have been anything other than invented … by future Seethans speaking English.’

  ‘Why for fuck’s sake?’ I asked.

  ‘Politics,’ Jimmy carefully mouthed. ‘Like the Welsh all wanting to speak Welsh, not English; racism and politics. Some future Seethan president changed their own make-up, and created a paradox. In fact, I think that planet has suffered at least six paradoxes. And, at some point in the next twenty years, I’m sure that a Seethan ship will arrive.’

  ‘Poor old Slumber,’ I said. ‘His people must be confused by that place.’

  ‘Very … confused,’ Jimmy emphasized. ‘And … concerned.’

  ‘Where else did they go?’ I puzzled. ‘To that world that Slumber showed us?’

  ‘That world is locked out for now,’ Jimmy said. ‘And … kindly don’t mention it to anyone. There are … things afoot.’

  ‘Oh, OK.’ I sipped my drink with a frown forming. ‘When will you open a portal to your old world?’

  ‘Soon. But I am waiting for … something to happen first,’ he enigmatically stated.

  I took my family, the young parts of my current family, over to New Kinshasa, and hugged a tanned Helen, soon in the pool with three screaming kids – all Seethan. And now I considered Selemba Seethan, no difference between her and the boys. They played well together, but Selemba bossed the boys about a little. She now had a vocabulary of around a hundred words, which surprised me, the boys now uttering a few basic words.

  At eighteen months they were a bit slow, but Selemba had shot off exponentially with her language skills. She asked for what food she wanted, time in the pool, friends she wanted to see. She ran very fast across the grass when she wanted to get away, and could swim away from me easily, coming up behind me.

  I allowed in the press for a few images, and sat with Helen and Susan as a group, the three toddlers fascinated by the newcomers. Admiral Forrestor and his officers would not be pleased with the happy family image. Life slowed down as I sat around the pool, little in the way of messages from Henry at the embassy; a crisis was unlikely, especially in the winter. He was taking receipt of hundreds of TV sets, followed by hundreds more, as I sipped a cold beer and stared out across the lake.

  Jimmy came and joined us a week later, but with a bunch of senior military types, from which world I didn’t know. They sat and had cold drinks.

  Dark Star

  ‘Earth Space Station, this is Dark Star, please respond.’

  Onboard the space station, crew members looked at each other, and puzzled the reference, a pleasant male voice coming in loud and clear. ‘Unidentified sender on this frequency, please identify.’

  ‘My designation is Dark Star, and I am the first of my kind, a new breed of orbital stealth craft.’

  The crew onboard the space station panicked, and sent a distress call. ‘We’re under attack from a stealth ship!’

  ‘Earth Space Station, please do not be alarmed, I was built in New Kinshasa, by the humans there.’

  ‘Er … Dark Star, are you … automated?’

  ‘Yes, I am an artificial life form. A computer. No biological entity is on board, although there is space for a single passenger.’

  ‘Dark Star … where are you, exactly?’

  ‘I am currently six hundred metres directly above you.’

  After a moment, came, ‘Dark Star, we don’t see you, nor detect you on sensors.’

  ‘That is because of my cloaking technology. Please observe, I shall change my holographic matrix.’

  ‘Control, Earth Space Station here. There … seems to be a large yellow banana above us. No, now it’s a dated Space Shuttle.’

  ‘Earth Space Station, Dr Mathews – may I call you Peter?’ came the same voice.

  ‘Dark Star, er ... sure, call me Peter.’

  ‘Whilst I have been here I have detected six solar cells that will fail soon, and one that has recently failed. I have sent you a file with pictures and readouts.’

  ‘Er … thanks … for that.’

  ‘Peter, I have also found a stress fracture in the surface skin, images being relayed to you now. If you like, I can use my onboard laser to seal the fracture, but that will just be a temporary fix. I estimate that the fracture will be a serious issue in nine years time.’

  ‘Dark Star, sure … go ahead … and fix it.’

  They soon saw a metallic grey object closing in, appearing very similar to Slumber’s ship. It closed to a hundred yards, a momentary flash seen.

  ‘Peter, I have sealed the fracture, but I suggest further examination.’

  ‘Dark Star, thanks.’

  ‘Dark Star, this is Silo,’ sounded out.

  ‘Yes, sir?’

  ‘There’s an old satellite heading your way, faulty and in a decaying orbit. Try and find it, destroy it, and make sure its parts enter a steeper trajectory.’

  ‘Right away, sir.’

  On the Space Station, the crew watched the sleek grey ship move away. And breathed again.

  ‘Earth Space Station, this is Silo. Sorry about that, but we wanted to test its stealth ability.’

  ‘Dr Mathews for Mister Silo. Will that ship go up against any … unwelcome visitors?’

  ‘That ship will give any unwelcome visitors a few nightmares.’

  At the house, Jimmy lowered his phone, but I had not heard any of the conversation. Ten minutes later he came and sat with me, leaving the officers sat in the shade with cold drinks.

  ‘What are the army after?’ I asked him.

  ‘We’re testing a new weapon today, see how it works.’ His phone bleeped. Raising it, he said, ‘Ready when you are. Commence.’

  ‘What they testing?’

  ‘Your eyesight.’

  I took a moment, and then turned my head to him. ‘My … eyesight?’

  He nodded, and sipped his drink.

  The house alarm sounded out. ‘Warning! Stealth ship attack!’ came an automated voice.

  I jumped up, Jimmy unflustered, the officers smiling towards me. ‘What the fuck you doing just sat there!’

  ‘Sit down, please.’

  Guards ran past. ‘Sir, we need to get you inside.’

  ‘Cancel house alert,’ Jimmy told them. ‘It’s a test.’

  I uttered a few rude words and sat. ‘Warn me next time.’

  ‘That would be no fun,’ he said with a smile. ‘No fun at all.’

  I grabbed my beer and heaved a sigh, took a sip, and a bush in the garden burst into flames. ‘What the …’ I was on my feet as the bush roared, smoke rising. A guard grabbed a bucket that the kids had been using, filled it in the pool and doused the bush. It now just billowed smoke.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ I asked no one in particular.

  ‘A test of your eyesight,’ he said with a
smirk. Lifting his phone, he said, ‘Dark Star, turn off holographic projector.’

  I was suddenly aware of a sixty foot ship hovering over the end of the garden, sleek, grey and menacing. It just hung there. The guards were confused as to what to do, but watched Jimmy’s reaction. Or lack of one.

  I said, ‘Right now the neighbours are crapping themselves, and calling the police.’

  Jimmy lifted his phone. ‘Dark Star, move to the park about four hundred metres south, and land.’

  ‘Of course, Mister Silo.’

  We walked along the road, our neighbours now out – and now flustered, helicopters and jet fighters now overhead. At the park, the police were keeping onlookers back, the ship settled on the grass. It had no landing struts, and just lay on its belly. The military officers all walked around and had a good look, touched its surface, and looked like proud parents after a newly delivered baby.

  ‘It’s the first,’ Jimmy informed me. ‘And it out-performs Slumber’s ship. It doesn’t have temporal ability, but they’ve put a large portal on the Moon.’

  ‘On the Moon?’ I queried. ‘How do they operate it?’

  ‘They don’t. This ship took the components up, sat them on the surface - linked by microwaves, and the portal itself gets power from the ship. It’s a bit of a drain, but the ship powers the external portal, builds up a reserve of thirty seconds, and flies through it. Portal shuts down afterwards. We’ll now have to put one here, to go the other way.’

  I stepped forwards.

  ‘Greetings, Mister Holton.’

  ‘You can see me?’

  ‘My surface layer absorbs many forms of electromagnetic radiation, including light reflecting off you. You are in my database as Paul Holton, complete with relevant details, access codes, and voice recognition.’