Sedulity 2: Aftershock (Sedulity Saga) (22 page)

Kevin had entered the bridge in time to witness the captain’s
outburst. There actually was more bad news to share, though he realized this
wasn’t the right time for it. Nonetheless, as if he had jinxed himself, the captain
received an urgent call from Commander Anders on the
Bounder.
Captain Krystos motioned for it to be put on the speakers
for everyone on the bridge to listen in.

“Yes, Commander,” Captain Krystos spoke into the mic. “I suppose
you have more bad news to share with us?”

“Yes, Captain, I’m afraid I do,” replied the Australian
officer. “Adelaide and Perth have both been hit by tsunamis that came from the
south, in the direction of Antarctica. We think they were caused by a combination
of reflected tsunamis and the separation of the Ross Ice Shelf that occurred
when the first tsunamis struck. These northbound waves were much smaller than
those generated directly by the asteroid impact, but still disastrous for
southern Australia and New Zealand.
 
That
leaves Darwin as the only intact port remaining on the continent of Australia.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Commander,” the Captain said. “At
least we made the right decision on our destination.”

“I hope that stays true, Captain,” Anders said, doubt evident
in his voice.

“Why?” Captain Krystos asked. “Darwin’s on the northwest
coast. Won’t it be safe from tsunamis originating in Antarctica?”

“Yes, but that’s not what has me worried,” Anders replied.
“Some of those Indonesian volcanos really blew their tops. In fact, they’re
still erupting violently, from all accounts. You remember what happened the
last time a major tsunami was triggered near Indonesia. Most of the Indian
Ocean was impacted. That’s bound to happen again, but what really has me
worried is that some of the largest earthquakes and volcanic blasts today took
place on the Pacific side of Indonesia. Any tsunamis they generated are headed
straight for Darwin. A tsunami warning has already been issued there.”
 
This news was met by silence on the bridge of
the
Sedulity.

After a moment Captain Krystos said, “Thanks for the update,
Commander. I don’t see that we have any choice but to continue towards Darwin
and pray that it’s still in once piece when we get there.”

“Agreed,” said the Australian, “I only wanted you to know
that we aren’t out of the woods just yet, as the Yanks would say.”

While this exchange had pulled Captain Krystos out of his
paralyzed funk, it had done nothing to calm his nerves or settle his fears. He
immediately turned back to his handheld radio to demand an update from Lt.
Reiner on the status of the mutiny and the safety of his wife. It took several
increasingly frantic transmissions before Reiner responded.

“Reiner here, Captain. Sorry for the delay. Things got quite
hectic here for a few minutes, but I have some good news to report, Sir. Your
wife and the other hostage are safe. The mutiny has been put down.”

The captain almost collapsed in relief, the bulk of his
tension spilling out of his muscles. He gripped the control console and stared
out of the bridge windows, through the pouring rain, seeing nothing and
everything clearly again. “Thank God,” he said before hitting the transmit key
on his radio. “What happened, Lieutenant?”

“I’m afraid it’s not all good news, Sir. We do have some
fatalities and serious injuries. We were in sort of a Mexican standoff until a
loyal member of the crew opened his cabin door into the middle of it. It was
Armando, the bartender. He saved the other woman who was being held hostage and
engaged her captor in a fight. Then a passenger got involved.
 
He came from the other end of the corridor
and it looked like he was trying to save the bartender. At that point the
leader of the mutiny, one of the kitchen staff named Baluk, let go of your wife
and stabbed Armando. That’s when Mr. Cohen opened fire and put him down, along
with the mutiny, but not before both Armando and the passenger were stabbed.

“The passenger’s name is Hank Donner, from Houston, Texas. He
was such a pain in the ass last night that he made sure none of us could forget
it, Sir,” the fondness in Reiner’s voice belied his words. “Then he came around
and actually pitched in to help the injured and other displaced passengers. You
should have seen him charge those mutineers! He was like a bull wearing a
cowboy hat. He busted up half a dozen of the bastards before they took him
down. Mr. Cohen shot a few, then he and I were able to herd the surviving
mutineers into a cabin. He’s guarding the door at gunpoint until the rest of
his security team arrives.”

“What happened to Armando and Mr. Donner?” the Captain asked
as soon as Reiner stopped transmitting.

“We sent both of them to the med center, Sir. That’s what
caused the delay in giving you this update. They were both critically injured,
and I was just now told that one of them didn’t make it.”

“Which one?” the captain inquired.

“I don’t know, Sir. I’ll find out. Both of them were good men,
heroes. Armando even talked some the crew out of joining the mutiny earlier.
And as much of an ass as Mr. Donner could be at times, he really came through
in the end. I sure hope that whichever of them is still alive makes it.”

“The mutineers will all be charged with murder, or accessory
to murder. Thank you, Mr. Reiner. Please send my wife back up to the bridge, if
she’s alright.”

“She and the other woman, a Mrs. Rachel Brewer, went to the med
center with the injured, but I’ll be sure to fetch her as soon as we deal with
the mutineers. Mr. Cohen plans to put them in the drunk tank until you are
ready to throw them overboard, Sir.”

“We’ll see about that, Mr. Reiner. Lock them up for now. Thank
you for all you have done, Lieutenant.”

*****

 
Kevin was shocked by
what he had just heard. He knew both Armando and Hank Donner, and he felt
guilty for hoping that Armando was the one still alive. He was also pleasantly
surprised that Hank had done a selfless act to help rescue Armando and the captain’s
wife. Nonetheless, these personal tragedies aboard ship were minor compared to
the global catastrophe in progress. Though he had wanted to update the captain on
what he was learning, he could see that this was obviously not the right time.

The Australian officer had actually filled in Captain Krystos
on some of the most critical issues that Kevin had intended to share with him.
The satellite weather services included those new warnings for tsunamis
travelling north from Antarctica and east from Indonesia, bracketing the
southern and western coasts of Australia. Kevin was worried that Darwin might
face disaster in the next few hours, but would have advised the same course of
action as the captain had decided upon. There really wasn’t another option now,
expect to press on in hope of finding a safe and intact port in Darwin.

The mention of the Ross Ice Shelf breaking away from
Antarctica was a far more disturbing threat on a global scale. Kevin didn’t see
any immediate need to mention all the devastating effects that would generate
over the coming months and years. He had already shared more than enough dire predictions
for the captain to worry about today. That thought brought him back to his
discussion with Steve and his subsequent call to his parents in Florida, and
Amanda’s in Colorado. In the end he had decided to split the difference. He
told his parents that he was fine and not to worry, that they would be safe
there, and that he, Amanda, and Emily, would try to get to Florida as soon as
possible. Then he told Amanda’s parents that they needed to pack up everything
of value and drive from Colorado to his own parent’s house in Florida as soon
as possible. They were hesitant, so he told them that it would be much better
to deal with heavy rain in Florida than dozens of feet of snow in Colorado,
leaving out the fact that the snow probably wouldn’t melt in their lifetime.

However, the Ross Ice Shelf disaster could add a new wrinkle
to his projections. In the course of a normal ice age the sea levels would fall
steadily as more and more of the Earth’s water was trapped in ice. However, if
the Ross Ice Shelf drifted into warmer water and began to melt, there might be
a short-term but significant rise in sea levels before the long-term cycle
kicked in. Kevin’s parents lived in a waterfront home on the inter-coastal
waterway. It was entirely possible that their house, and much of Florida, would
be submerged within a year. That was a fear that Kevin didn’t want to face
right now. He convinced himself that it would be better to send all of their
loved ones there, where glaciers would never reach, even if they had to deal
with major flooding over the next few years.

Kevin had decided that Steve was right about the need to hold
back some of the worst predictions. There was no good to be served from causing
panic, or dashing the joy that his parents and in-laws felt from the news that
Kevin and his family were alive and well. There would be plenty of time to
break the truly bad news gently, both to his family and the world at large. In
the meantime, Kevin grieved for the lives lost aboard the ship and around the
globe, rejoiced in the fact that he and his family were still alive, and thanked
his lucky stars that they had taken this voyage aboard the
Sedulity.

Look for the shocking conclusion in “Sedulity 3: Consequence”
to be released in 2015.

I hope you have enjoyed the series so far. This installment
focused more on events taking place around the world
and
how they affected the thoughts and emotions of those aboard the
Sedulity.
The final instalment will
settle the fate of the ship, its passengers, and crew in this post-apocalyptic
world.
As always, your reviews and comments are
more
than
welcome.

You can find all of my
work at
www.amazon.com/David-Forsyth/e/B006PLOMMK/
including the
following
prequel
novelette to my first series which I have attacked to this edition as a bonus
read.
 

I also enjoy
interacting with readers on Facebook at
https://www.facebook.com/DavidPForsythAuthor

And now for something
completely different
…

LUKAN

A prequel novelette in

The Sovereign Spirit
Saga

By David P Forsyth

This is a work of
fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead (except for
historical and public figures), is purely coincidental. Although many of the
places and things depicted do exist, numerous liberties have been taken and
intentional embellishments made. This book does not purport to provide accurate
descriptions of any actual locations, things, or entities. To the best of the
author’s knowledge there are no such things as zombies and no plans by anyone
to create them. This is an original work of fiction and all intellectual
property rights are reserved by David P. Forsyth.

Cover Art by William O.
Rosenthal.

Copyright 2013 @ David
P. Forsyth

All rights reserved

Kindle Edition

LUKAN

I’m a dead man walking, but I’ve been having the
time of my life. If everything goes according to plan there might not be anyone
left alive to read this, but I still want to record my experiences during this
apocalyptic odyssey. Yes, it is quite possible that nobody will ever read this.
So why write it? Under normal circumstances nobody would believe it anyway. Yet
maybe aliens or some other species will arrive or evolve and wonder about us.
Like we wondered about dinosaurs.
 
So I am
using my tablet to record the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the
truth. Before this plane lands in Sydney I will upload my testimonial to
several secure servers and embed a time delayed release. Some people may read
it and learn the truth before they die. And, if there are any survivors, they
might be curious about how the world ended.

We are all dying. We don’t want to face it, but
it’s true. From the moment you are born the clock is ticking. Most of us never
know when the timer will hit zero. For me that all changed four months ago when
a doctor told me that I only had six months to live.
 
It’s cancer. Brain cancer. An inoperable
tumor. Hopeless. I know some of you will think, “Ah, the tumor made him crazy,”
but you would be wrong. The modern world is the disease that did this to me and
I am the cure.
 
For the past ten years I
held a cell phone next to my head for at least three or four hours a day.
Damned unlimited talk plans! I’m pretty sure that is what gave me the tumor,
but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Besides, that is not what I want to tell
you about. It is only important as far as it goes to explain how I got into
this.

 
          
My
name is Alistair Dane Lukan. You might have heard of me, but probably not, at
least not yet. I was a blogger and small time fiction writer, when I wasn’t
selling life insurance for a living. Is that ironic, or what? In my spare time
I used to blog about politics and write cheap science fiction eBooks. Some of
my stuff was well received, but after my diagnosis everything changed. Prior to
that I had written several blog posts about the problem of global
overpopulation in which I promoted birth control and abortion. One of my first
blog entries after the diagnosis expanded on that subject, telling people they
should be happy that my death would be a small contribution to solving the
problem of overpopulation and encouraging folks to kill themselves and take other
people with them as a way to further the cause. It was a bitter, tongue in
cheek satire, but not everyone took it that way. I got a lot more hate mail
than sympathy, especially after a right wing news program linked to my blog and
excoriated it. Of course that only made me angry, as if I wasn’t already, and I
lashed out with additional postings in which I listed all the human suffering
caused by overpopulation, as well as the resulting environmental destruction
from our exploitation of the planet.
 
Some
of my blog posts included impassioned pleas to God or governments to rid the
world of the burden of mankind through plague or war. The hate mail grew and
simply fueled my hatred of the human race at large. I was, quite simply, sick
in the head.

Then, about two months after my diagnosis, I got a
very different type of message on my personal email. The sender was sympathetic
to my plight and agreed with my positions on overpopulation, even offering to
help me spread the doctrine in the little time remaining to me. All they asked
me to do, if I was interested in learning more about their offer, was send a reply
within one hour of opening the email. I thought about it for at least half an
hour before drafting a reply. Even then I hesitated, unsure if I should
proceed. My mouse hovered above “send” as the hour expired. What happened next
both frightened and excited me. The original message deleted itself from my
inbox! I had heard that high tech programs could now send messages that would
self-destruct, but had never witnessed it.
 
This was like something out of
Mission
Impossible.
My outgoing reply window was still open and I clicked on “send”
more out of curiosity than conviction. The reply went through and what was left
of my life changed dramatically.

****

  
One week
later I was sitting in a first class seat on a flight to Seattle, paid for in
full by my new and still nameless online friend. What convinced me? The offer
was quite sweet. The person, or persons, who had contacted me would pay for me
to live in luxury for the time I had left and help me spread my philosophy to
others around the world. It sounded as if I would be a poster-child of sorts
for the cause of depopulation. It certainly sounded better than sitting in my
apartment waiting to die, with nothing but morphine to look forward to in the
way of comfort before the inevitable end overtook me. Of course there was more
to their offer than met the eye and I should have known it. Yet even now I think
I made the right decision, although you probably won’t agree with me.

When I arrived in Seattle there was a limo waiting to
take me to a hotel near the airport where a prepaid room was reserved in my
name. Actually it was a luxury suite with more square footage than my apartment
at home. A note told me to use room service and watch as many movies as I
liked, but not to leave the suite or make any calls until I was contacted the
following morning. It was a pleasant night. The next morning at 9:00 sharp
there was a knock on my door. I was almost finished with my room service
breakfast. My appetite had suffered as the cancer progressed, but I could still
stomach eggs and juice. I pulled on a T-shirt and opened the door to admit who
I assumed would be my benefactor.
 

Two people stood waiting in the hallway. One was a
genial looking middle-aged man with greying hair and wearing a tan suit. The
other was a young and quite attractive woman with black hair and penetrating
eyes. They introduced themselves as Bill and Linda. I welcomed them into the
living room of the suite. There was some small talk, which I can’t remember at
all, having been focused almost exclusively on Linda’s body. It’s a strange
thing about dying. Even for someone like me who opposed reproduction on
practical and philosophical grounds, the biological drive to procreate is
strong. When facing certain death it gets even stronger. I was captivated by
the curves of Linda’s breasts when Bill brought me back to earth.

“You need to make a decision now, Alistair,” he
intoned. “If you are truly committed to the philosophy that you have been
promoting online, we can help you set it in motion before you die. You, and
several others, have been chosen to leave a legacy unlike any other in history.
But once you leave this room with us you will be sworn to secrecy and committed
to the cause. Are you ready for that?”

Slightly taken aback, I said, “Can you be more
specific? Exactly who are you people and what do you want me to do?”

“Those are questions that can only be answered
after you have sworn an oath of secrecy and committed yourself to the cause,”
Linda answered softly. “But after reading all of your work, I am sure that you
will be in full agreement with our plans.”
 
This was a brilliant approach on her part, playing to my vanity as a
writer.

“In that case,” I smiled, “let’s get this show on
the road. I will agree to keep your secrets. That shouldn’t be too hard anyway,
seeing as how I only have a few more months to live. And if your plan includes
giving me the VIP treatment like this, then it can’t be too bad.”
 
Little did I know how wrong I was.

Without disclosing more information, but taking my
commitment on face value, they waited while I repacked my bag before escorting
me out of the suite. Upon entering the elevator I was a bit surprised that we
went up instead of down. Exiting onto the roof area I was delighted to see a
helicopter waiting for us. I had never been on a helicopter before. What an
adventure this was turning out to be!

My excitement peaked as the helicopter lifted off
from the roof and headed towards downtown Seattle. I could see the Space Needle
in the distance and hoped we would fly close enough for a good look. But
excitement turned to trepidation when Linda pulled out a black hood and slid it
over my head.
 

“What are you doing?” I said, reaching up to remove
it.

“Leave it on,” Bill said firmly. “This is part of
operational security. It’s vital that you don’t know exactly where we are
taking you. We will divulge many things to you, but the location of our base of
operations is not one of them. No matter how committed you are to the cause, we
can’t take the risk of the wrong people finding us.”

This cloak and dagger stuff didn’t sit well with
me, but I must admit to being intrigued. I felt the helicopter bank steeply and
it must have circled several times before straightening onto a course that I had
no way of guessing.
 
The flight was not
long, perhaps half an hour, and I was taken by surprise when the wheels hit the
ground, bouncing slightly. Without removing the hood my new comrades (coconspirators?
captors?) escorted me off the helicopter, across a paved lot, and into a
building. Only after we were deep inside did Linda remove the hood from my
head. I blinked at the bright lights in the white hallway and tried to regain
my bearings. “Where are we?” I asked. “And who are you people?”

Linda smiled as she led me into an opulent bedroom
and said, “We are the Tabula Rasa and this is our North American base. This is
where you will learn our secrets before embarking on a grand adventure. I will
do everything I can to make sure you enjoy your stay here.” Before I could
react to any of that, she leaned towards me and planted a kiss on my lips. Not
just a friendly kiss either. Suddenly her tongue was in my mouth and all other
thoughts escaped me.
 
My time with Linda
was too personal to share with you in detail, although those moments still
replay constantly in my mind. Linda proved herself to be quite a minx and the
consummate hostess. After assuring me that she was using birth control she
proceeded to show me what would undoubtedly be the time of my life. No pun
intended.

****

Over the next few days, when I wasn’t otherwise
occupied in bed with Linda, I learned that the Tabula Rasa was a secret society
dedicated to reducing the global population to sustainable levels. It was
exactly what I had been preaching, but it sounded like they had a real plan to
make it happen. They didn’t disclose the whole plan immediately, not until I
was in way over my head. By that time I was hopelessly in love with Linda (or
maybe it was just lust) and had expressed full agreement with the goals and objectives
of the Tabula Rasa. I was hooked and willing to agree to do anything to support
them. That’s when Bill and Linda dropped their bomb on me.

“Alistair,” Bill began, “I truly wish that we could
cure your cancer and invite you to join our long-term mission. You seem to be
fully dedicated to the cause. Unfortunately, the medical tests we put you
through over the past two weeks have confirmed your prognosis. You have less
than two months to live and I’m afraid the final month will be quite painful.”

I thought I had moved past the stage of denial, at
least to anger, if not acceptance, but Bill’s words stung me to the core. I had
tried not to think about the tumor growing in my head during my time at the
Tabula Rasa base. The Vicodin and Oxycodone were keeping my splitting headaches
in check. And I was starting to think that I could find purpose and contentment
in whatever time I had left. It just wasn’t fair. I had a woman that I was
falling in love with and a cause that was dear to my heart. Bill pulled the rug
out from under my fantasy. Life is not fair. But you know that by now too,
don’t you?

Linda stepped into the silence and said, “There is
still a way for you to make a difference for our cause and help bring about the
kind of world we dream of.”

“What is it?” I asked without displaying my
emotions.

“We want you to help us trigger a depopulation
event,” she said softly.

“Huh?” I guess I was still a bit dense, or maybe
the shock and pain killers slowed my thought process. “How?”

“We want you to spread a virus that will reduce the
global human population to sustainable levels,” Bill explained. I just stared
at him.

“It’s what you talked about on your blog,” Linda
chimed sweetly. “You really can make a difference by reducing world population
before you die. You can fulfill your vision and we can ensure that you have a
great time doing it too.”

“I don’t understand,” and I didn’t. Not at first
anyway. Bill had to spell it out in detail.
 
They wanted to send me on a final
vacation
around the world, spreading some virus at every stop and on every flight. I
asked them what kind of virus I would be spreading and told them I didn’t
really want to kill millions of people. Bill and Linda exchanged glances. Then
Linda made it sound like a good thing.