by Geoff Wolak
Jimmy led Baldy and the diplomatic team inside the White House gates, and up the drive, admiring the lawns.
Stood across the street, and observing with interest, was Paul, the Seethan offspring of Sandra and Jesus who had developed Britain on this world. He and his team had been here all along, a hundred years of dodging the authorities, changing names and cities, all the time building up contacts, money and resources - but never interfering with the political time line. He now glanced at his team, nodded, and they moved off.
History is written by the victors
Back from the future Seethan world, Jimmy handed me a data-pad. ‘On there is the history of Seether. It … makes for interesting reading.’
I sat down that evening and began to read. According to this version of history, the Seether arrived on their world from the home of the ancestors, brought by the ancestors after a great war had destroyed the land. Well, that was partly correct. The ancestors taught the Seether new ways for many years, until the Seether were too strong for the ancestors and told them to leave. Again, it was partly correct, if a little ungrateful.
The Seethan armies had taken Denver from the Preether in a long drawn out war, and drove the Preether south and into the sea, where they left by boats, to live in huts on islands and … regressed back into cavemen. Well, Cuba was relaxed, but I didn’t know about cavemen. The Seethans evolved the game of football, used first by soldiers as fitness training. Did they now?
Great Queen Selemba, founder of the race, argued with the ancestors and left their world to travel to Seether, where she joined her offspring, Selemba later banished to another world by a cruel president of mixed Preethan blood. A short war removed the man. I sighed, loudly, and put the pad down.
History was normally written by the victors, but this was just plain … ungrateful. I decided to pay the Seethans a visit, kind of … unannounced.
A week later I stepped through the portal with a group of diplomats returning to the future Seether, none of the Seethans bothering to question who I was. I ditched the diplomats at our new embassy, and grabbed a taxi with two guards, soon heading across Denver and towards the local TV station, the distant hills and mountains blocked by high-rise apartment blocks.
‘How could anyone build sky scrapers here, and block the view of the mountains?’ I asked our driver.
‘Many people say that, sir. But if you live in the right spot you have a good view, in one direction anyway. You here to give an interview like the Great Prophet?’
‘Jimmy? No.’
‘You know the Great Prophet?’ our driver keenly asked.
I smiled. ‘Yes.’
‘What’s your name then, sir, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘My name is Paul Holton.’
‘Holton? We had a president named Holton once, common enough name here.’
We drove on.
‘Any … historical records about a Paul Holton, Honoured Father?’
‘I … don’t think so, sir.’
I faced a guard that was smirking, a pointed finger raised.
The man said, ‘Didn’t really expect this lot to be grateful, did you?’
At the TV studios we brazenly walked in, causing a stir, humans still not common here. I approached the desk. ‘I’d like to speak to the boss, and to give an interview.’
The TV stations’ security guards led us beyond the lobby and up in a lift, soon to an office overlooking the studios on one side, a great view of Denver on the other side, a large curtain oddly splitting the room.
A portly and short Seethan greeted us. ‘I’m David Morris, chief executive here. Welcome. Drink?’
‘No, thanks, it’s a little early.’
‘Please, sit.’ I sat facing the man’s large desk, Colorado’s finest scenery in the background. ‘How can I help?’
‘I’d like to give an interview.’
‘Oh. Any … particular topic or matter?’
I lifted my data-pad and handed it over. The man studied the image. ‘That’s you … with a … Seethan child, a girl. Nice house in the background.’
‘The mansion is in a place called New Kinshasa, Africa, on the lake, and it’s where I had a house with my first wife for many years. That’s her in the picture, with our daughter.’
‘Your … daughter. But the girl is Seethan?’
‘When the child was born, and born as a human, a portal opened a necklace fell out, a necklace with her name on it. We placed it around her neck, but the necklace infected her with Seethan DNA, and … changed her over the years till she became Seethan.’
‘Change her DNA?’
‘Yes, a very advanced process.’
‘So … you raised the child as a human?’
‘No, we raised her in a hidden location, since there was a war going on, and when she was mature we … brought her here to Seether, where … I was in charge of developing your race.’
The man stared hard at me, his mouth opening. ‘You … developed our early race?’
‘Computer,’ I called. ‘Display images of myself at Seethan embassy shortly after arriving.’
The man studied the images, using a finger to select the next image, soon flicking through dozens. ‘These are actually images from the early days.’
‘On that pad is the first ever football game organised between Seether and Preether, the full match. You’re welcome to show it on your network, as an exclusive.’
‘The … first ever match, an exclusive to us? Are you … authorised to hand it to us by your people?’
‘Computer, display images of Queen Selemba when she was young, with her parents.’
Images appeared, the man studying them intensely.
‘Computer, show images of Selemba returning from isolation.’
Video of Selemba’s return ran, showing black human soldiers guarding her. As she approached me she greeted me as ‘Father’.
‘Great … Maker. You … you’re … Queen Selemba’s father?’ He mopped his brow.
‘And I talk to her often. Now, how about that interview?’
I was rushed down a set of stairs, given a seat, many orders shouted at the staff. We were ready quickly, a presenter very quickly briefed, stunned, shocked, then briefed again, and he straightened his tie as he offered me a nervous smile.
‘Five … four … three … standby … we’re live.’
‘Ladies and gentlemen, we’re here – going live – and we have an … incredible opportunity today to interview one of the ancestors, whose name is Paul Holton. But, Mister Holton is human, his breeding partner is human – we have their images here -’
The green screen behind us remained the same, but I could see our image on a computer, myself and Helen were shown together, a collection of images, mostly at the mansion in New Kinshasa.
‘- and, we have images of you here with your biological daughter.’
The background screen displayed us with a young Selemba.
‘Mister Holton, can you explain the image we are seeing.’
‘When my daughter was born she was human, but an hour after the birth a time portal opened and a necklace fell through, which we placed around the neck of the baby. That necklace contained advanced technology, well in advance of us -’
‘In advance of the ancestors?’
‘Yes, it was from a time well into the future. Since the necklace had our daughter’s African name on it we were not frightened at first, but the necklace infected our daughter with Seethan DNA, and changed her appearance.’
‘Change her from human … to Seethan?’
‘Yes.’
‘And who sent the necklace?’
‘Seethans from well into the future, a paradox.’
‘Why a paradox?’
‘We named our daughter Selemba, and she … is the progenitor of your race, Queen Selemba.’ The interviewer seemed to be stuck for further questions. ‘My DNA, my human DNA was also altered, many decades earlier, as was that of my wife. My DNA was altere
d the year I was recruited by Jimmy Silo, The Great Prophet.’
‘You were recruited by him?’
‘His understudy. He dispatched me to Seether to oversee the development of your people, and the introduction of Selemba and her offspring to your lands and your people. With me I have images of the early days.’
The screen displayed the embassy. ‘That’s the first human embassy to Seether.’
The next image showed me at a football game.
‘That’s the first football pitch we created, the police being trained by our soldiers, and being taught how to play football. I brought with me film of the first ever football match between Seether and Preether, the full length of the match. You can show it if you wish.’
Black and white images appeared, stills from the match.
‘Pleb, The Great Reformer, he played in that match and scored a great goal. He was the first Seethan we encountered when we arrived on this world, and he lived with us at the embassy.’
The screen changed. ‘That’s him, in the middle. He worked as a translator for us at first. And you also have images of the first colony on Cuba…’ I waited, soon an image of Cuba displayed, that of Rescue Force tents.
‘You have lived a long time,’ the interviewer commented.
‘Last week I was in your past, developing your early society. Next week I’ll be back on this world, but a hundred years ago, still developing your society. And … I think you need to update your history books a little, since they’re very inaccurate. As for the Great War, an alien race threatened us – and your early peoples – and we fought a war in space. Queen Selemba took part in that war, she captained a fighting craft ahead of her fleet.’
‘Queen Selemba … took part in a battle in space?’
‘Yes, we have orbital craft, and Queen Selemba now lives on another world where she seeded another Seethan race. They’re more advanced than you. And for the record, Selemba decided when she wanted to leave – there was no bad Preethan threatening her. Jimmy wanted her to leave so that there would be two worlds populated by Seethans, just in case a disaster or war affected one. At the time, we still had an alien threat. As as for the Preethans … I tempted them south to Texas, and across to Cuba, to keep the warring factions apart, and I used football to unite the bachelors and to break down social stigmas.’
I was about to say something else…
Two ghostly Seethans hovered before me in my lounge in Trophy, the boys looking up at them. I had just placed down the data-pad with the history of Seether when they appeared.
‘Do not be alarmed, Honoured Father,’ the female offered me.
‘You’re … Seethan High Guard?’
‘We are, and we wish to … request that you not travel to Seethan and … give them a piece of your mind.’
‘Did I?’ I asked with a grin.
‘Yes, and the effect was … unnecessary.’
‘Cheeky buggers re-wrote history, and I’m not even in it!’
‘Did you do what you did … for glory, fame, a … pat on the back and a medal?’
I took a moment, and made a face, sighing. ‘No, it’s just that I’d … like to kick them in the arse.’
‘They will learn in time, and in their own time,’ the male said. ‘Please do not judge them … too harshly.’
I slowly nodded. ‘Anyway, thanks for the help at the battle.’
‘It was the least we could do, given all that you have done for us … and are still doing,’ the female responded.
‘Are you going to offer me any advice on how to develop the Seether?’
‘No, that would contaminate the timeline,’ the female said. ‘But, from time to time, we will look in on Pleb.’
I nodded and smiled. ‘That smoke detector in his room, no one could remember putting it there.’
‘We … may have interfered a little,’ the male began. ‘Without altering the time line significantly.’
I resisted a smile. ‘I’ll watch him. And … I won’t go to Seether and give your politicians a good kicking.’
‘We are grateful,’ the male responded. ‘And, as Pleb will say when offered his first political appointment, I’m off, and you can all go kick your balls up your arses.’
I laughed loudly as the images disappeared, Susan stepping in.
‘What you laughing at?’ she asked, the boys shouting about angels.
‘I … created a holographic Pleb for the boys to laugh at.’
She cocked her head to the side as she thought about that, making a face. ‘Cruel, but fair.’
My data-pad sounded an alarm an hour later, and Jimmy’s image appeared. ‘Paul, your world – 1938-world – it’s suffered some kind of change to the time line, Baldy’s probes lost twenty eight hours on the chronometers -’
‘It’s OK, I know what it is … and it’s OK.’
‘It’s OK? What the hell are you talking about?’
‘I did something that someone didn’t appreciate, and that someone rewound a little and asked me nicely not to do what … I did do, if you know what I mean.’
‘Oh. Well, we need to check these things. And, oddly enough, the open portals all shut down, there were no open links at the time. Did I … rewind that world, and somehow lose the memory of it?’
‘I can say no more,’ I said with a smile. ‘Just … forget it, it’s done.’
‘Fair enough,’ he said with a sigh.
New Zealand
I stepped through a portal in Auckland with Shelly, and to the world where Selemba had grown up - Shelly having served two terms as Prime Minister. The current Prime Minister welcomed us, an honour guard laid on, and we were soon sat in a dated Mercedes car – now electric under the hood – whisked through the city to the best hotel.
‘How’s the economy?’ I asked.
‘Fine, just fine,’ the PM replied. ‘We’re exporting technology, solar panels and electric cars - as far as Indonesia, and now India.’
‘How’s India doing?’
‘Better, much better, but still with regional powers instead of a united national power,’ he replied. ‘But they are advancing. After the war their economy fell apart, and a war broke out with Pakistan - decades of bombs going off.’
I nodded. It sounded familiar. At the hotel, I stopped to greet the crowds, Shelly still very popular, and we waved. Settled into the hotel, I went downstairs to give an interview.
‘How are your efforts on the Seethan world?’ the lady interviewer asked me when ready.
‘We’re making good progress, but we’re not trying to force a solution on them, they must develop at their own pace. We … are custodians and guardians of their development, and we’re not about to tell them what to do.’
‘You fought in the war with the Zim, alongside Mister Silo, yes?’
‘I did, although my wife still gives me grief about it. Jimmy didn’t really give me time to think about it, he just said we needed to go – and we went, flying off in a Seethan ship. It was my first time in space, but the craft had no windows. Still, I got an image of the Earth from space, which was great.’
‘And you went up against a thousand Zim craft, plus their mother ships.’
‘Jimmy figured that Sandra’s world would show up, and he hoped that they would have developed superior craft. They had developed better craft, and I’m sure that they would have won the battle, but at a heavy cost in casualties. But the arrival of Selemba and her forces tipped the scales.’
‘Selemba from the future, yes?’
‘Yes. When she left here she was seventeen, and she’s now on the Seethan world in their past, and I see her often.’
‘And her offspring?’
‘The daughters have been spread around that world, and they’ll dominate the gene pool; they’ll each produce more kids than the other females. So Selemba is the mother of the Seether, that paradox is being fulfilled, a paradox that started when my own DNA was altered – along with Helen’s – back in the 1980s on my original world.’
‘And your DNA was altered by future Seethans – quite a paradox.’
I nodded. ‘We’ve come full circle, yes.’
‘Tell us about some of the other worlds.’
I took a moment. ‘I commissioned a survey recently, something as much for my own information as anything else, but it’s become widely read – and widely discussed. We have a great deal of data on post-apocalyptic worlds, as well as on human history, and I used a super-computer named Mobius to sift the data and to provide statistics.’
I smiled. ‘You’ll be glad to know that this country faired the best after the wars, on each world. Here, you escaped the direct effects of the war, but – more importantly – your society didn’t fall apart. There were no particular racial tensions that became conflicts, and your citizens didn’t loot the shops or … rape and kill. You managed to hold it together as a country, knowing full well that you were on your own.
‘In America, after the wars, the nation fractured and people turned wild; they became hunter-gatherers in a primitive sense, little social cohesion seen. Rural communities armed themselves, and resisted those people from the cities who wanted to take their livestock and steal the crops, but those farmers were eventually worn down by sheer numbers, and most were killed.
‘Few farming communities in America survived more than a year or two, although many did well to start with. In America, the rich people found that their banks were closed, their money just a number on paper, their jewellery worthless. You can’t eat diamonds! And the poor farmers suddenly found that they were very rich, and could barter their crops and livestock – as well as feed their families. They didn’t need to pay back the bank loans, because the banks were gone. Free of that burden, they prospered for a while – till the townsfolk shot them and stole their livestock, farms changing hands many times.
‘In the towns and cities across America, people suffered greatly, rape and murder common, no police at the end of the phone; the elderly and the infirmed starved to death in their homes. If you had a gun you had power, and people used that power to get what they wanted and needed. Being in a city or town after a nuclear war is not where you want to be; it’s the law of the jungle on day one.
