Earth: The Future is History (2 page)

Noya signals Filip to sit down as she’s
taking over the story.

Noya: “History’s inaccuracies sometimes
deprive us of the most important details: it’s unclear why, but in
the winter of 2102 the riots started, quickly turning into the
largest revolution the world had ever seen, rivaled in magnitude
only by what we experienced ourselves last year. The trigger is
believed by most historians to be the bombing of a water
purification plant by a group of religious extremists, sparking
rage in the civilian population. The revolutions that started
across the entire globe lasted for months; the loss of life was
unprecedented, but despite the overwhelming odds they were fighting
against, people did not back down, demanding significant changes in
the power structures of the world. And during this lengthy, brutal
fighting, for the first time in human history people realized that
their goals were no longer set by governments or corporations or
religion, but instead they were fighting a battle of their own, all
wanting the same thing – a key moment in a long series of events
that slowly pushed us to being what we are today. And driven by
their newfound unity, coordinating attacks across the planet, the
civilian population managed to overthrow most governments and
convince the remaining armies to join them. However, although
governments and armies were defeated, the religious structures of
the world were not backing down, trying to impose their desire for
more control.”

Professor Noya stops for a moment to analyze
if her students are still interested or if she’s losing them to
boredom.

It’s almost dark.
Time to stop for the night.

My rifle, my suit and my training… That’s all
I have, it’s all I need, all I want. Up here, in these dangerous
and isolated mountains, any unnecessary weight would just slow me
down – and in this frigid, rocky, snowy, slippery terrain, being
slow means being dead. One wrong step, one wrong decision, if I
lose focus for just one moment it’s all over… But I can’t die, I
can’t fail. My mission is too important.

I don’t even have a tent; all I have is my
suit to keep me warm for the night. Time to go to sleep.

I’ve been an explorer all my life, always
wondering, always trying to find what others couldn’t. Searching
for the truth in an ancient whisper or clearing a rumor buried by
millennia of indifference – that’s what I do, that’s what I’ve
always been good at. Really good. They say I’m the best, with more
Merit Awards and places named after me than anyone else. Figures…
I’ve always been more at home here, in the wilderness, alone, than
I ever was anywhere else. Here I understand how things work, how
things should be, how every little thing has its own place – here,
I find serenity in a natural, perfect order. That’s my secret,
that’s how I’m able to find the things everyone else missed – I
clearly see anything out of place. And I guess this is the reason
why I’ve been chosen for this crucial mission. There’s no one
better to find out if they’re right, the truth behind this elusive
rumor, this dangerous whisper… Well, that or the fact that no one
else dared to venture in this unforgiving terrain… alone… with no
chance of rescue… and very limited supplies… But even now, here,
even in this never ending sea of low mists and high peaks, in the
most dangerous corner of our planet, even here I see the beauty…
Incredible!

The first rays of light feel like sand in my
eyes… Time to wake up.

I can’t believe it’s already morning… After
nine days of running and climbing, I’m tired, I’m wet, I’m cold. My
minimal gear is barely enough for surviving; comfort is out of the
question. Not even a tent, not even a sleeping mattress. I know, I
know! I remember my training: “Weight is your enemy, weight slows
you down, if you’re slow – you’re dead!”. I’ve heard this so many
times… I’m miserable. But I can’t stop! What am I doing here? What
am I looking for? This isn’t how I normally do things – I have
months of research and preparation and planning, managing
resources, gear and personnel before I start any expedition. No,
this is anything but normal. Instead of months of research I had
months of survival training, gear training, climbing training.
Infiltration training, shooting training.

I just finished eating my morning rations.
Time to move.

The first few days of the mission I was
excited, I was going to explore a place no one even dares set a
foot on, a chance to conquer the ultimate challenge, a chance to
have my name placed indisputably on top of the Hall of Explorers
Wall. But after nine days of long runs and climbs, my excitement
was drowned by fatigue and discomfort. Three days ago I started the
final climb, towards the top of the tallest peak in this area.
Three days of continuous climbing – slippery and frozen rocks,
barely any spot to anchor down for the night, an almost vertical
wall to overcome, a constant and exhausting wind… I’ve never felt
this miserable in my life… But I’m eager to finally get to the
top.

I can see the peak, it’s almost within reach.
Time for the final push.

The red and white rocks remind me of the
beach where I grew up. There were no rocks there, just an endless
blanket of reddish sand with a strange, white glow just before
sunset. I hated that place. There was nothing to see, just sand and
water. That’s one of the reasons I left: there had to be more to
the world than just sand and water; I wanted to see new things, new
places… And now I hate this place – there’s nothing to see, just
rocks and snow… But at least I’m somewhere new, a place no one else
can tell me about because no one else has ever been here. A strange
feeling takes root… A simple idea that I didn’t have time to allow
it to crawl into my mind before just now… I haven’t realized until
just now how effective my training is - so focused on my mission,
so focused on my next step, grip, breathing, rations, mapping; so
focused that I couldn’t think about anything else. And now I’m so
focused on this growing feeling that I can’t think about climbing…
“No one else has ever been here” … But what if the rumors are
true…? What would that mean? Everything would change. With a
painful final effort, I reach with my left hand up and grab the
ledge, pulling myself on the flat top of the peak.

Every muscle in my body is aching. Time to
stop and catch my breath.

I guess for someone chasing rumors for years,
it’s strange that I don’t put much faith in them. It is what it is,
a rumor is only a rumor until proven true or false. So why is this
one so different? Why do I care? Why am I so sure everything will
change if I find what I’m searching for? For the first time in a
very long time, I don’t understand myself and I don’t trust myself.
Maybe I don’t want to find anything? …That’s not even a
possibility.

I get up and slowly start moving towards the
other side of the peak. As I walk, more and more of the valley in
front of me becomes visible. The wind seems to be getting stronger,
sometimes lifting the snow in powerful bursts and carrying it
everywhere, in the entire valley. I struggle to get a better look
in the distance, to make sense of the terrain through all the snow
and mist. Wait… something’s not right, something doesn’t fit. Right
there! Down in the valley, the snow looks different…

Could this be…?

Secretary Nazari’s
hologram: “The President is ready for you, Admiral Sterrow. We’re
ready to begin.”

The Admiral had been staring at the blank
console for an hour, slowly caressing his thick beard, lost in
thought, waiting for the War Council to gather back on Earth. The
recent developments are troubling, but ultimately of little
consequence; the course of action is clear – move the invasion
schedule forward. So why was the council assembled? Even the
President of the World Alliance was there, interrupting his busy
schedule to attend. No, this was about something else…

Turning around and looking towards the
adjacent meeting room, he realizes for the first time just how big
the command area is. He’s not a young man anymore; his once pitch
black curly hair gave way to the scanty gray bobs barely visible
under his standard white and blue cap.

For a brief moment he smiles, finding his
recent realization funny. Of course the command area is big, the
whole ship he commands is enormous – a first generation spaceship
aptly named Santa Maria, the first with the new Titan class
designation, currently orbiting Asha – designed to command, control
and transport an entire fleet of weapon systems, denial systems and
carrier systems; everything, from the small automated drones to the
huge transports are housed inside the Santa Maria. Of course the
command area is big; twenty-five officers responsible for all the
different systems, all assigned to their individual, complex
control units – large, transparent, holographic half-spheres,
centered around their leaned back, bulky chairs. All twenty-five
control units are positioned in a crescent around and above a large
area in the floor – the combat information display, C.I.D. – that
provides a real-time holographic representation of the Titan and
its surrounding area, along with dozens of pertinent information
channels about the battlefield. In contrast with everything else
there, the Admiral’s command stand is simple, just a metallic
platform surrounded by a plain handrail, placed halfway on the
empty side of the crescent formed by the control units, well above
everything else in the command area.

As he enters the meeting room, he stops for a
moment and quickly checks that his white and blue uniform is
straight.

Quantum entanglement communication and
holographic projection makes the empty area suddenly transform in a
lively populated room, with all the War Council members arguing
around a long, rectangular table; the President seems agitated,
arguing with a new face, but is interrupted by the Admiral joining
the meeting. Secretary Nazari makes a subtle gesture, inviting
Sterrow to take his place. The ten war councilmembers are seated on
both sides of the table, with the president on the far end. The
only person he doesn’t know, dressed in a well-fitted silver suit
and unbuttoned white shirt, doesn’t seem to have a place, instead
just standing next to the President’s chair.

Back on Earth, the Admiral’s hologram appears
just as the room settles down. All eyes are directed at the
President.

President Locke: “Welcome Admiral. “

Standing straight, just opposite of the
President, Admiral Sterrow quickly salutes: “Thank you, sir. It’s
good to see you again.”

President Locke: “Likewise, Admiral. At ease.
As you can see the entire War Council was assembled; today we’re
holding a special meeting. But before we get started, there’s
something you need to been informed about, a somewhat recent
development…”

Admiral Sterrow: “Sir?”

President Locke, considered by many too young
for his position, is sitting in a large, comfortable chair. As
always, very careful about his appearance, he straightens his
striped tie as he informs the Admiral with an indifferent voice:
“Last year it became apparent that Earth’s civilian population was
no longer satisfied with our… strict leadership. World-wide riots
started and things degraded fast. People were demanding a drastic
change in how decisions were made. We were left with only two
options: turn our weapons against the population, or accept the
Civilian Council in the decision making process.”

Admiral Sterrow: “I take it we now have a
joint civilian-military leadership?”. He turns his head to the new
face in the room.

President Locke: “Yes. Meet Alexander
Hofmann, Admiral. He’s the…”

Alexander Hofmann, with a subtle smile on his
face, doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. Just as the
President is trying to make the introduction, he starts walking
towards the Admiral’s hologram, analyzing him, and abruptly ending
his sentence: “Call me Alexei, Mr. Sterrow. I’ve been selected by
the Civilian Council to attend all high-ranking meetings and
observe, maybe ask a few questions every now and then. Don’t worry,
I won’t get in your way. I’m just here to understand… how things
work.”

President Locke, visibly upset by Alexei’s
lack of etiquette: “Don’t interrupt me again, Hofmann! Allowing you
here…”

Still smiling, with a calm but firm voice,
Alexei again interrupts the President: “You forget, Mr. Locke. I’m
not here because you allow it; and I’m not here as a courtesy
extended by your leadership. I don’t have “President” before my
name and I don’t need it as I represent the Civilian Council; we
hold the same amount of power now; we have the same weight in any
decision.” His smile fades and his look is more serious: “Don’t
confuse me with one of your errand boys. I don’t even understand
why your position is still called “President”; you and your
predecessors were never elected, your government is nothing more
than a war council and all leadership thriving under you is nothing
more than a corrupt gathering of mindless warmongers; any values
the World Alliance had were lost… if there were any to begin with;
any respect and support you ever had from civilians has degraded
into hatred. My point, “Mr. President”, is that if I want to
interrupt you, I…”

President Locke quickly opens his mouth to
respond, but before he gets the chance, secretary Nazari firmly
interrupts them both: “Gentlemen! Don’t we have somewhat more
pressing matters to discuss?”

President Locke: “…”

Alexei: “…”

His many years of dealing with politics leave
Admiral Sterrow unimpressed by the younger men’s bickering. He
tries to break the silence: “The invasion is advancing according to
schedule; the initial unit production is almost complete and most
of the machinery is already operational. Except for the fact that
we had a minor intrusion yesterday, nothing… noteworthy happened
since my last debriefing.”