by Geoff Wolak
‘He wanted peace, but made ready for war,’ Lobster noted. ‘An interesting tactic.’
A health dividend
Gilchrist had prepared well in a short space of time, and had grabbed all of the available drug vials he could lay his hands on. It was his edge, and he was going to play it for all that it was worth. He had the drugs in the hospitals within an hour of his speech, people soon being injected, the word spreading. That following twenty-four hours he dispatched drugs to every medical centre in America, the drugs accompanied by doctors – all American of course, and predominantly white.
Whilst he was doing that, Jimmy had dispatched three hundred thousand people to Africa, many more again to Europe, Russia and China. Those nations would receive their own drugs, but a limited supply. From Ngomo’s main base in the Congo, drones were carried through from various worlds, assembled and launched, most destined to sit over America – a fact that we would not reveal yet.
As per Gilchrist’s offer of an amnesty, many Zim gave themselves up, scanners now in use around the States, a few Zim caught at random checkpoints. They were soon all on their way to the other world, where many wounded Zim were being treated by their fellow citizens. On both worlds, medium Zim craft were allowed to land, ships filmed landing in Nevada on Clayton’s world. Zim citizens were again seen streaming through to the other world. What they would find when they got there would be damaged ships and buildings in Wyoming, but some nice scenery as they waited for their ultimate relocation. At least they would get to stretch their legs after their long flight.
When I arrived back in Trophy, and home to greet Klok and Chime, I found Jimmy and his wife visiting.
‘How is Selemba?’ Helen Silo enquired.
‘Queen … Selemba,’ I pointed out, a finger raised. ‘And if you forget that fact, she’ll behead you.’ Helen Silo waited. ‘No, really, she would.’
‘She’s doing what’s necessary,’ Jimmy insisted.
‘She broke the neck of the old president inside the first two minutes,’ I complained as lifted Klok.
‘Crikey,’ Helen Silo let out, Susan shocked.
‘And then she selected a suitor and dragged him into a room as we waited, all stood around whistling. Poor guy came out looking like he had tackled an assault course.’
‘Paul, really,’ Helen Silo chided me.
‘I wish I was joking,’ I told them.
We settled around a table.
Jimmy faced me. ‘Zim have dispatched a team to the world I selected for them. It’s a standard Earth, but people died out in the Stone Age for some reason.’
‘Why did they leave their home?’ I asked as drinks were placed down by the household staff.
‘Projected solar activity. They figured they had a hundred years, and so should probably try and leave within a reasonable margin. Their home world is about twenty light years away; took them thirty six years to find us, ninety eight percent of their people always in stasis – just repair crews awake.’ He took a moment. ‘But those that left … were just about two percent of the entire population, a lottery used of those who wished to leave – which was only around ten percent of them anyway.’
‘And those that stayed?’ I floated.
‘We’ll never know, since they’re a long way off,’ Jimmy reluctantly admitted.
‘And the Zim ships?’ Susan asked.
‘They don’t mind if we take possession of them – they’ve had enough of space flight for a while, and those ships should give us long distance ability, but for the Seether – who can be frozen. Humans could never use them. I struck a deal whereby skeleton crews remain for one year.’
‘And … what assistance will we give them in return?’ I asked.
‘A map of the geology of that world - oil and metals, and a vast supply of habitats and equipment, an army of human volunteers working there to start with. We’ll open portals to Britain and Europe – good temperate locations for crops and cattle, and that world’s version of Iowa and Wyoming; they liked Yellowstone as a location, similar to their world. And they don’t mind cold weather.’
‘And they can be trusted?’ Helen Silo posed.
‘They know we have effective scanners, and weapons that can destroy them,’ Jimmy replied. ‘Besides, now that they know what they’re up against they’re afraid. Our little demonstration in space was … most effective. Besides, most of their citizens never wanted a fight to start with.’
‘Could we expect more Zim visitors?’ Susan asked. ‘In our time line.’
‘That … is a possibility,’ Jimmy stated. ‘We just don’t know what happened on their world after this lot left it. But, we do have probes moving out of our solar system and along the route they took, so … maybe we’ll find more – and ahead of time.’
‘You said something about New Zealand?’ Helen Silo asked with a frown.
‘Selemba’s New Zealand,’ Jimmy enthused. ‘Yes, they’ve joined our linked worlds, diplomatic teams swapped, same for Sandra’s world – full voting status.’
‘What year is it on Sandra’s world?’ I asked.
‘2044,’ Jimmy replied. ‘And all peaceful.’
‘Sandra had the Silo A-Z manual, and it sounds like she used it,’ I said with a smile.
‘She did at that,’ Jimmy agreed. ‘And her orbital craft would kick the crap out of ours.’
‘And Toby..?’ Susan broached.
‘I’ve requested his presence,’ Jimmy informed us. ‘He, his wife, and his three daughters … will be here in a day or so. And don’t tell him off at the lack of contact, that was my insistence because of the Zim threat. Besides, he’s now old enough to have a free bus pass, too old to be told off.’
Two days later an orbital craft landed on the main runway at Trophy Aerospace, this sleek craft ninety feet long and more bulbous than ours. It touched down smoothly, a hatch soon popped, steps taken out to it. I stood with Susan, expectant looks on our faces, my wife still giving me grief about my trip into space – and risking myself in the fight with the Zim.
Toby stepped down and stretched, a hand for his wife – who wore blue coveralls like Toby, three young girls in child-size blue coveralls emerging. The eldest appeared to be around ten years old, the youngest around six. We stepped forwards.
Toby had aged, now appearing to me to be around fifty in the face. At forty-six he had appeared to be thirty.
‘Paul, Susan,’ he said, no ‘mom’ or ‘dad’ used. ‘This is my wife, Katerina, also a pilot – which is how we met, and these three trouble-makers are Helen, Cassey, and Oksana.’
Susan shook the lady’s hand and kissed her on the cheek, soon bending to greet the girls as they lined up.
‘Are we nearly there yet?’ the younger asked. ‘I wanna wee.’
I smiled widely, before shaking hands with Toby. ‘It was good to see your face when we did,’ I said. ‘For I while I thought I’d die in space.’
Susan tried to pretend that she didn’t hear that, making small talk with the kids.
Toby thumbed towards his wife. ‘My co-pilot was there as well.’
‘Yes? Wow, a flying family. And you came here in an orbital craft as well. Were the kids not afraid?’
‘Hell no,’ Toby said. ‘They all fly, even the nipper.’
Susan took that girl by the hand and towards the tower as the rest of us moved as a group towards a waiting luxury coach. A group of grey and aging Trophy managers stepped forwards.
‘Good god, they let you alone with an expensive craft?’ one said towards Toby.
‘Learnt to fly straight and level yet, sonny?’ another asked.
Toby smiled widely and shook their hands, his old mentors. ‘Katerina, these old reprobates used to be my bosses.’
Katerina said towards the men, ‘No wonder you still look stressed. Fly Boy here clipped Air Force One by accident on our world.’
‘Sshhhh,’ Toby let out. ‘They don’t need to know stuff like that.’
Katerina added, ‘And he
once landed on an iced-pond, thinking it land. He sank and had to be rescued.’
It took ten minutes of jibes before we managed to get on the bus, soon back at the house, Jimmy and his wife greeting my wandering son.
‘Mister Silo,’ Toby offered, shaking hands. ‘You going to tell us just who these Seethan High Guard are?’
‘Er … no, I’m not,’ Jimmy replied with a smile.
Katerina shook Jimmy’s hand. ‘A great honour, sir, I’ve read your life story.’
It was great to have a house full again, Mary popping over with her own brood, Shelly and Helen putting in an appearance in the morning, the household staff kept very busy. We posed for a group photograph, the image released to the press, and gave a brief interview outside between the rain showers. I spent time alone with Helen, and we spoke of her sense of loss over Selemba, till I informed her what Selemba had done. Then Helen just wanted to slap our precocious offspring.
Everyone made a fuss of Klok and Chime, Toby’s daughters familiar with Seethans, his kids having grown up visiting Sandra and Jesus on a regular basis. Shelly announced that she would return to New Zealand in a few months, a few projects to check-up on, Helen set to return to New Kinshasa on this world. Mary would continue to raise her brood and work in Toronto, but Toby surprised us by announcing that he and his family would be moving back here to Trophy. He also informed us that Sandra, Jesus and their extended family would be moving as well, moving to a world where Selemba would someday start a new Seethan colony. We all looked to Jimmy.
‘It’s supposed to be secret,’ he pointed out. ‘Do not … discuss it outside of here.’
‘It’s also a paradox,’ Toby pointed out. ‘We met the elder version of Selemba at the battle, and the younger version is still over on Seether.’
Aftermath
Gilchrist had played his trump card, and had played it well, a ‘feel-good’ factor now felt by the American voter, as well as much hope for the future. Everyone worried about their own health – and about getting old, and everyone had parents or relatives that suffered from ill-health, and so Gilchrist’s amazing claims had been very welcome.
With stealth craft in orbit now relaying TV channels, the news was keenly watched by the average US citizen, the soldiers from the future glimpsed many times, advanced solar panels displayed, electric cars and buses on display to journalists. People were filmed returning home, back to the cities, but many news segments featured looters being shot in many cities, soldiers on every street corner. It would take time.
The banks re-opened, dollars having been printed – a bad idea but a necessary stop-gap. Loans were duly issued to many banks and large corporations, a sum of money that seemed foolhardy. Gilchrist had appropriated a large hotel in central Washington, and it now buzzed with life, the human workers still being periodically scanned in case they might be Zim. Gold was used to buy overseas goods from jittery nations, and Gilchrist wasted no time at all in informing other nations that they could buy drugs from America – the new wonder drugs.
Senators Hal and Hacker occupied rooms in the hotel, their staff with them, both men appointed to the Interim Emergency Government, overseen by Gilchrist and his team. The White House now displayed scaffolding supporting its remaining walls, large white sheets protecting the modesty of the old building till it was rebuilt. Congress had been damaged, both north and south annexes, but the damage was not great, repairs underway, those repairs made all the more difficult by the high ceilings – and the desire to restore the building to its former glory.
The Pentagon had been flattened, and so would be completely demolished, a new building started over with a few new features. From future worlds, a great many transmitters had been brought through, only modern variants. They possessed adapters for old magnetic tape systems and live cameras, and they would now replace transmitters damaged by the Zim. Police radio transmitters had been replaced on day one, phone masts, as well as many military communications systems.
As journalists travelled across to 2048, Gilchrist sat down with the Interim Government, a large function room at the hotel utilised, tables covered in white tablecloths. Twenty people sat at the table, another sixty behind them. And so far, Hal and Hacker had not revealed their true identity.
‘First item,’ Gilchrist began, ‘on a long, long list -’ People smiled, but seemed tired. ‘- will be the dollar, the petrol-dollar and … this country’s huge deficit. It has been agreed with those of us from the future … that America here be allowed to sell the super drug to many nations, and to benefit financially from those sales for many years – a date yet to be fixed. The individual recipient countries receive the obvious medical benefits, as well as a health dividend, we get the money.
‘Some of the considerable sum that we expect to make will assist with the deficit, and we will start a programme of cutbacks in the federal budget – right now. The military will have its budget cut, not least because nearly all nuclear missiles will be decommissioned – those that were not destroyed by the Zim. That decommissioning will involve others such as Britain and France, thereafter a world-wide ban on nuclear weapons development - policed by the UN.
‘So, we can count on a peace dividend to assist with a cut in spending. In addition to the revenue brought in from the drug, we’ll sell advanced solar technology and turbine technology over the years, the agreement we have stating that America will dominate that market for seven years.
‘Now, the introduction of advanced solar panels, electric cars and buses, and coal-oil technology, will put pressure on the price of oil, and therefore on the dollar. But, as we sit here, the dollar is at its lowest for … well, since it was first printed I guess, so now is a good time to revalue it. We shall also break the agreement whereby all oil is traded in dollars, and as we sell the drugs and new technologies we can take back many of our overseas dollars.
‘A month from now we’ll organise a financial conference with our principal partners - we’ll include Russia and China – and we’ll reorganise this planet’s currencies and exchange rates. We’ll also be calling for a stimulus package by many nations, especially Europe, in the hope of boosting global trade.’
‘What about Iraq and Iran?’ Hacker tabled.
‘We’ll leave those countries in a phased withdrawal, meaning that we’ll see what happens to the damn oil wells we hand over. If they’re blown up … we’ll not hand over other wells just to meet the same fate. But, I would hope that combat troops leave inside of five years, the various regional governments assisted to grow their economies, after … they’ve demonstrated a reasonable security situation on the ground.’
Hal nudged, ‘And these rumours about the development of Africa?’
Gilchrist considered his answer. ‘It’s been brought to my attention today … that Britain, Germany and France have received gold from the Congo, and it’s my hope that it will be used as part of a global stimulus package. Africa will be developed by people from the future, and then handed over to the local Africans to run, the hope being that they become consumers of American goods sooner rather than later. Further, I would hope that we land major contracts in Africa, and become trading partners. I did learn a thing or two from reading the boring life story of ex-president Hardon Chase.’
‘And their claims on the oil in Africa,’ Hacker nudged.
‘It is their oil, and we’ll start to pay them their cut, agreeing to hand back the oilfields in five years if … and it’s a big if, if they could manage them efficiently. We’ll not hand back just to see them sat idle and rusted.’
‘Fair enough,’ Hacker put in.
‘And political reform?’ Hal nudged, seeming to take an opposing view to Gilchrist’s side of the table.
‘We’ll ban all lobbyists to start with, at least lobbyists for the White House. Further, I would suggest that the basic pay rate for Congressmen and Senators be greatly increased, and that all outside income be publicly declared and published every month.’
‘And do
nations to campaigns?’ Hacker asked, folding his arms.
‘Will be limited to a maximum of five thousand dollars per voter – no organisations allowed to donate, all donations added to a register that can be scrutinized,’ Gilchrist offered.
Several of the politicians from this era objected, soon a heated debate raging.
Gilchrist tapped the table, loudly, with a cup. ‘Gentlemen, think about how you got into this mess in the first place, because we will be airing that in public real soon. We need a new system, and one that’s – what’s the word, democratic - not skewed towards big business or rich lobby groups. That … is not democracy, and I’d love to see any of you debate that with me on live television.’ He waited, the objectors objecting less, and now quietly.
The next day the pay rise for congressmen and senators was announced, decried by the public and the press alike, and the register of interests detailed – decried by congressmen and senators alike. The politicians screamed louder over party funding, but Gilchrist rounded on them in the press: who wants another President Clayton in office? You nearly lost the planet! It shut up the objectors, for now, Gilchrist wooing the public - the voters, as if he himself was running for office.
He proceeded to militarise the Mexican border, stating with a straight face that illegal aliens should be kept out. People around the states were coming back from death’s door after being injected, and now something of a clamber for the drugs was witnessed. It had leaked that the drugs halted the aging process, as Gilchrist had hoped for. Those with a few dollars bought the drug, and dollars came back into the Treasury, a kind of health tax that would fill the hole left in the budget.
Medical students were warned of job cuts in the health industry, and insurance companies went through something of a radical reform, adjusting terms and policies. They would soon have fewer customers with policies. Oil prices started to fall, but had been extremely volatile during the troubles anyway. Electric cars poured across from future worlds, Greyhound Buses adopting electric vehicles for distance routes.
