by Geoff Wolak
‘South America did quite well after each war, but they suffered from over-populated cities with vast slums, and a few of their cities fell apart. Rural farms and remote farms in South America did well enough, and many nations survived intact - after thousands of city dwellers had been killed fighting the authorities or each other.
‘On some worlds, Texas in America rallied itself, but did so as a large militia, punishment harsh and swift, it’s leadership very racist. And on one particular world Texas grew as a nation state in itself, eventually taking back America by force. They’re brutal, but I agree with much of what they’re doing. When society falls apart … you have no choice but to be tough.’
I took a moment. ‘As a young man in London, I watched TV programmes about the rich people in America and elsewhere, their homes and their yachts. But a nuclear war is a great leveller of the playing field, and those rich people lost everything in an instant. Those who had a farm and some livestock were the real rich people, and the billionaires ended up killing dogs and cats to eat, sleeping on the bare ground. At a time of crisis, paper money doesn’t help; you need a farm, a water source, and a large rifle. Those gun nuts in America who headed for the hills - even before the war – and at odds with the federal government, did well for a while, but were worn down over the years.
‘Those who survived were small farming communities that delegated, and patrolled their land along the same lines that you could have seen in 1850 in the Wild West; a sheriff, his deputies, a doctor and a dentist, and ranchers that traded with each other. A lumber mill, a blacksmith, and then you had a chance at survival. If you were a rich banker from a city … you had little chance of survival.
‘When it comes down to it, farming is the bedrock and foundation of any country, and if modern countries let their farms wither - and develop industrial and financial economies - then they’re throwing away their lifeline in a crisis. Every farmer knows that you’re as rich as the crops and livestock you have; you can’t leverage ten sheep through the financial markets and produce eleven sheep.
‘I think many countries lost track of their farming communities, and relied on manufacturing or their financial markets. But in a crisis those markets disappear on day one and never come back; money in a bank is useless, but a field full of wheat is priceless. It’s something that I’ve mentioned to a few future worlds, in the hope that they don’t ever lose sight of what’s growing under their feet, and tangible – not some number in a computer.’
I enjoyed three days in Auckland, getting to see what Shelly had created, what policies she had implemented. I tried the electric bus service that she had introduced, that service becoming free in her second term. Electric buses produced here had been exported to Australia, where rural routes had been subsidised.
This country now ticked along as well as the Congo on my old world, Shelly and Helen having been thorough in modernising the nation. Most houses in the warmer north displayed a solar panel, and in the colder south they operated small wind turbines on roofs. The populations had all been injected, a policy that became less popular when aging indigenous peoples often grew to thirty stone or more. Exercise was prescribed.
Leaving New Zealand, I was happy with the knowledge that they had a secure future, and my final act was to sign an agreement by the economic group that we could develop Africa here. Back on my world, I sent the signal, portals soon opening in the Congo. The Australasian Economic Group would have a few trading partners in the years ahead.
Paul, king maker of the Seethans
My Seethan namesake, Paul, had remained on Seether without my knowledge, along with a dozen others. Jimmy knew, as did a few portal operators who could actually count, but the detail of these particular Seether was kept a closely guarded secret. Having witnessed Jimmy and Selemba appear, Paul and his team activated several plans.
Decades earlier they had travelled from Britain to the Congo using false names, but to the humans still operating there all Seether looked alike - and Paul had bought land where he knew the gold lay, and where the best mines or oilfields were located. Those purchases had been encouraged by the humans overseeing the land before they finally pulled out, leaving at the request of a new hard-line Seethan administration in Denver.
For sixty years, Paul and his team acquired land, businesses, and they possessed a blueprint that the other Seethans lacked; they had the geology of this planet, and they held knowledge of future technologies. Their various businesses flourished, their inventions always selling well around the world, but they didn’t get involved in politics, nor did they ever criticise the political leadership. At election time they donated modestly to each candidate, and offered secret support to each candidate, always working in the shadows, their true wealth hidden.
Now, with elections due, their particular candidate suddenly had a vast war chest of funds with which to advertise his particular brand of political bullshit, and promises of cash made to other candidates failed to appear. Calls were not returned. Paul and his team returned to Africa, and made ready. They watched the TV news as details of the ancestors were shown, the new ‘enforced’ diplomatic relationship described.
A week later, and two presidential hopefuls suffered from having their private lives revealed. They dropped out of the race for the White House. There were not yet any party politics here, and presidents chose a cabinet from the various elected officials in the senate. There was no lower house operating, but many human political characteristics had been copied, including the influence on the president by big business – who argued that those paying the most tax to the treasury should have the loudest voice. It was a fair argument, except that the main body of anonymous taxpayers contributed eighty percent of all tax revenue.
Paul’s candidate won the election, and duly chose his team, several of who were a great deal older than they let on. In Africa, Paul sounded out an idea that had been echoed many times over the decades by many others, that the vast continent now be split-up into countries. The new president passed a decree, and the Congo was created as a separate country, East Africa another, that new nation comprising what I would consider to be Kenya and Tanzania – as well as offshore islands like Zanzibar. West Africa would be made up of the area to the west of the Congo, and would encompass what I would have labelled as Sierra Leone, Liberia, Nigeria, Guinea and Angola.
Paul was appointed as governor of the Congo, and got to work in earnest. He opened electronics factories, offered a great wage to scientists and their families, and allocated many large construction companies huge contracts. He was going to build a city on the lake, and call it New Kinshasa in honour of the ancestors.
The Seethans were an advanced race at this time, and had mastered portal technology after pinching the idea from ‘The Ancestors’. Educational standards were very high, a result of Selemba’s genes, and technology was always embraced here. The Seethans launched rockets and operated an orbital space station, had sent probes around the solar system, but had no particular interest in manned missions – not yet.
Paul, however, had a very old data-pad, and on it were the plans for anti-gravity engines and orbital stealth craft, and his friend the President would be sanctioning some money on research in the area, quite a bit of money.
Full circle
Booked into his hotel suite, Jimmy used a remote control to close the curtains, and then cracked open a Whiskey miniature. Ice clinked into the glass, the Whiskey poured over the crackling ice. Jimmy’s data-pad bleeped, a quite curse uttered. But as Jimmy turned, two ghostly holographic images appeared, images of Seethans in white coveralls, and not looking unlike astronauts. They both slowly bowed their heads towards Jimmy, one appearing male, the other female.
Drink in hand, Jimmy loosened his tie and stepped towards the images. ‘How long have you following me around?’ he asked.
‘More than three hundred years, give or take a few days, Great Prophet,’ the male replied.
‘If you’ve been following me around
that long, my friends, then you know that I’m no prophet, and very fallible. Call me Jimmy.’
‘We could not do that, Great Prophet, since we have charted your life from the start.’
‘Did you interfere at any point?’ Jimmy asked.
‘We were greatly troubled at many points, because we did not interfere. But, knowing the future, we had certain knowledge that you would succeed in your task. May we take this opportunity to … complain … at the stress you caused us by taking so many risks.’
Jimmy smiled widely.
‘We made one small alteration,’ the female admitted.
‘The DNA of Paul and Helen,’ Jimmy noted.
‘Yes, we altered Queen Selemba’s DNA slightly to allow for less memory loss during hibernation, a small change.’ They exchanged looks. ‘And … we assisted Pleb, the Great Reformer, who would have … injured himself and those around him too often.’
Jimmy again smiled widely, shaking his head.
‘The changes we made had no significant affect on the timeline,’ the male insisted. ‘Although all small changes have consequences.’
‘You have a ship in orbit?’ Jimmy asked before sipping his drink.
‘Yes, Great Prophet.’
‘Temporal ability?’
‘The ship has an external temporal matrix,’ the female explained. ‘Any change to the timeline of a galaxy we visit will not affect the ship.’
‘So … if I was killed at an early date you’d still be safe. That’s good to know. You’ve visited many worlds?’
‘We have, and we have found many wonders, and several intelligent species.’
‘Do you hibernate?’
‘We did, but the temporal matrix means that the outside galaxy through which we travel ages many years, whilst inside the ship only days pass.’
‘Clever,’ Jimmy commended. ‘Now, tell me you have the details of alien political systems.’
The Seether both smiled. ‘On the data-pad,’ the male informed Jimmy. ‘Under the heading of theoretical alien life forms. There are images as well, made to appear as graphics.’
‘I’ll delete it after I’ve read it. And … thanks.’
‘We shall be leaving now, and will journey to a distant galaxy.’
‘Do you have a certain game aboard for entertainment of a long cold night in space?’ Jimmy asked with a glint in his eye.
‘We have the multi-player version, very advanced. I like to play the character of Big Paul on occasion, for a … rest.’
‘Have fun,’ Jimmy offered.
The images bowed slowly, and then disappeared.
Jimmy lifted the data-pad and sat down. ‘OK, what do we have? We have … big old stick insects, green in colour. Dextrous hands, opposable thumbs, two of them, six fingers, wrists – good movement in all directions, elbows – similar to humans, shoulder joints – again similar, eight pairs of eyes. Eight! Each pair … has its own focal range, some for close-up work, some for distant work. Makes sense. Distance vision is … six times better than a human eye.
‘No eyes on the backs of their heads though, and … limited turning of the head. Creature has to … swivel around to see behind, but has thermal detectors on the back of the head. Can detect sudden movement. Hmmm.
‘Four legs, long counter-balancing tail, species split by male and female. OK, mating rituals. Three males will marry – what? Three males will come together at a time when they are well-established and have a house and money. They enter into a mating bond, and build a nursery. They then advertise to passing females to view the house and nursery, financial savings on display.’ Jimmy smiled. ‘Take a look at my car and my apartment, love!
‘But I guess many creatures make a nest first. OK, the three joined-bachelors win a mate after a long drawn out dancing ritual, the males learning to dance in unison. Guys, you would sooo … be ribbed by humans. Then each male mates in turn several times until the female opening closes and seals up. She then sits and eats, the males bringing food … for ten weeks. Sorry guys. The female will then lay eggs and leave, never to return. There’s gratitude for you. The males tend the eggs and cannot work from the time they win a mate, to the last offspring leaving the house. Ouch!
‘The eggs hatch after eight weeks, and the offspring crawl up onto the males, who will then carry them around. Offspring often bite the males and leave permanent scars. Again, ouch! Offspring are tempted down to the ground by food, and eventually leave the house of their own accord to make their way to nearby woods, where they will grow for a year or two, before being captured by the school authorities. Odd. School is enforced, operated like a prison for the first six years. After school would come advanced studies for those with aptitude, another six years, after which the creatures graduate with an IQ similar to a bright human sixteen year old. Not bad.
‘Some go on to further studies, another four years, and graduate with an IQ above a human degree student. No bad at all.’
Jimmy jumped ahead. ‘OK, politics. Society is male dominated, no surprise there, and jobs are allocated on ability – not chosen. Makes sense as well. Students are … tested for particular skills and … then allocated work based upon them, even if that is a sport or competitive fighting, or simply painting. To each his own.
‘Government is voted upon by citizens, and citizenship can be awarded or gained after many years of good service. Now there’s an idea for this place. Political officials can be … removed or promoted by a local vote of their underlings and peers. The planet has a global leader and a global parliament, and resources are evenly spread around. Citizens cannot make a house in a place with limited resources. Makes sense; leave the deserts and polar caps alone.
‘Leaders remain in office till such time as a better qualified or more popular leader is chosen. Crime. Crime is very low, punishment harsh, usually termination. Low IQ citizens are castrated. Ouch – but a good idea none the less.
‘Population – three billion, annual increase just five percent. Manageable. No global wars fought, no political groups, no religious beliefs.’ Jimmy sighed long and hard. ‘I’m helping the wrong species. Still, it’s nice to know the universe got it right somewhere.’
He eased up slowly and stared wide-eyed at the data-pad. ‘Species have recently discovered football, and now plan a global league.’ He started laughing.
