THE FOREVER GENE (THE SCIONS OF EARTH Book 1) (30 page)

"No need, sir, I have been following the debates."

"That is good.  The Ancient Council has examined the situation and concluded that there is little prospect of the planet being returned to normal.  Too much damage has been done, both geopolitically and environmentally. It has no central planetary authority with any real influence, which makes it almost impossible to co-ordinate an effective recovery strategy.  Its major nations are too fractious and distrustful of each other to assist and, even if they did, smaller nations would oppose them at every turn, suspicious of their motives.

"You are aware of what happened to the star drive project on the Moon?  At a critical moment, one of the delegations attempted to seize the technology for itself.  In response, a group from some of the other delegations broke away, escaping in the humans' only star ship.  The conflict resulted in loss of life.  The ship disappeared into a wormhole and has not been seen since.  As things stand at present, the people of Earth have no star drive, nor even a ship capable of wormhole travel.

"Predictably, the events on the Moon have caused relations between the major powers on the planet to deteriorate to new lows.  Some have already fought skirmishes with each other and are on the brink of all-out war.  At the same time, warlords have established themselves in many of the less stable areas of the planet and some have already used nuclear warheads against their rivals.  It is only a matter of time before the major powers decide that they must strike back with similar weaponry.  The radiation levels on the planet have already risen noticeably and, in some areas, we will have to take precautions."

Vi recalled provisions in the logistics reports for large numbers of environmental suits on each ship.  Now she knew why they were needed.  "What can we do to help, sir?  We cannot evacuate the whole planet."

"Indeed," he said, "That is not possible".  "The best we can do is to save as many people as we can."

She was shocked.  "But what good will it do to save only some of them?  And what about the ones we can't save?  What will happen to them?"

The ambassador paused, as if deciding how much more he should tell her.  "The Ancient Council itself is divided as to whether we should intervene at all.  Some of the councillors advocate taking no action at all.  They argue that a race so bent on destruction would be a menace should it eventually achieve space travel.  Others are mindful of our responsibilities towards a client race and feel that we cannot abandon it entirely.  They point out that our studies have revealed that the race has certain positive qualities which could be beneficial to us in the long term.

"So it has been decided that, although we cannot save the planet itself, or its civilisation as a whole, we should not allow the human race to die out.  Our mission is to land on the planet, offer a way out to anyone who wishes to leave, and to extract a meaningful number of humans.  The evacuees will be resettled and, with their admirable penchant for reproduction, should be able to regenerate their civilisation in a relatively short space of time."

She could already see a few flaws in the plan.  "What if more humans than we can take wish to be evacuated?  How will we decide who stays and who goes?  And where will they be resettled?  Surely we cannot just dump them on some undeveloped world?  They may not survive and the whole effort will have been for nothing."

By then they had crossed the conduit onto the bridge.  It was now a hive of activity.  Ko had returned and was seated within one of the consoles.  She even caught a glimpse of Physician Ti at the far end of the gigantic circular space.  The old gang was back together, it seemed.

The ambassador took a quick look around and then turned to her.  "We have made what preparations we can in the time available.  However our monitors report that the situation changes daily.  We are not certain of precisely what we will find when we get there.  The Ancient Council has given us some latitude to decide how best to react and we will probably have to make hard choices along the way.

"That is the one of the reasons I asked for you to accompany this expedition.  You, more than anyone, were able to develop an affinity with the humans.  You even befriended some of them.  I will be relying to a great degree on your insight into the human condition when we get there.  So please do not hesitate to offer your opinion whenever you deem it appropriate."

She started to say something, but he stopped her.  "You must be prepared to be shocked when we get to Earth.  I don't know how much information you received at the reproduction centre but, knowing those places, I suspect it wasn't much.  A great deal has happened on Earth since we left, almost none of it good."

He looked around the bridge again.  "Now, we must leave shortly and you should make yourself ready.  I see that you have already donned your robes of office.  I have assigned you the principal com console and you will take up the duties of head translator with immediate effect.  Please excuse me; I have my own preparations to attend to."

He strode away, leaving her with an uneasy feeling; a strange mixture of excitement and dread.  She couldn't help wondering whether Qara-Chinua was one of those in peril, or whether she was already dead.  She grimaced and quickly dismissed the thought.  The Mongolian reporter was tough and resourceful and Vi had to believe that she was a survivor.

She hurried over to the com console and strapped herself in.  The trip to Earth would be much longer than the short hop between Azura and Primefall, and she wasn't looking forward to it.  But she moderated her sensory perception levels, as she had been taught, and was able to endure the violence of the wormhole voyage without much discomfort.

As soon as Emissary reached Earth's star system, she re-energised her aura, anxious to get some idea of the planet's present status.  She tapped, flicked and blinked away within her interface module, manipulating the information feeds available.  The wormhole had deposited the ship just outside the planet's atmosphere.  From there, she should be able to access the Personet and pick up various other sources of terrestrial data.

She concentrated on establishing the Personet link first; that was where she was most likely to get information quickly.  While she was busy, an alert blinked into existence above her left eyebrow.  She activated it with a glance.  It was a radiation warning.  In the last few days the planetary radiation level had skyrocketed.  Her heart sank.  The reading she had seen before the ship left Primefall had been high, but within human survival range.  It was now beyond that.  The ambassador's worst fears had been realised.  The use of nuclear weapons had proliferated to uncontrollable levels.

The first reports she found on the Personet confirmed it.  The world's major powers had all opted to employ nuclear strikes against smaller nations and warlords who had already used, or threatened to use, nuclear force.  So far, the powers had restrained themselves from entering into full scale wars with each other, each distracted by local threats close to or even within its borders.  But it would not take much, she sensed, to spark a major conflict.

It took some time for the rest of the fleet to assemble.  For safety reasons, only one ship was permitted to travel through a wormhole at a time and, although several wormholes had been opened simultaneously, moving such a large fleet was still a time-consuming process.  The wormholes had opened in different quadrants around the planet, ensuring that the fleet would be spread out as widely as possible.

In that time, Vi built up as comprehensive a picture as she could of the planetary situation.  She forwarded her observations to the ambassador and the other ships of the fleet.  Radiation levels were not uniform.  In some areas they were still within tolerable levels, in others they were beyond deadly.  The toll of dead and dying in those areas was astronomical, and rising.

The Personet itself was breaking down.  Already, large areas of the planet had gone quiet, the servers and relays in those areas having been destroyed or damaged.  The network was otherwise still functional, but its coverage was diminishing by the day.

She looked specifically for reports about the two nations that meant the most to her; first Mongolia, and then Thailand.  She was relieved to see that the radiation levels in the former were relatively low.  The Personet was still active in Ulan Bator and she scanned the channels for news of the people and places she knew.  The city was still intact, it seemed, and the government was still in place.  She was happy about that; she had always liked the energetic President Ganzorig.

She hoped that Qara was in the city and had not been despatched to some crazy hotspot.  She called up some of the current broadcasts from Mongolia Today.  Relief flooded through her when she saw her diminutive friend reporting from downtown Ulan Bator.  Except for some lines added by worry, Qara's earnest young face was unchanged.  That was to be expected from someone with the Forever Gene, she supposed.  Vi wondered how much change the reporter would see in her if and when they met again.

Sadly, that was unlikely.  There were so many places on the planet where people desperately needed help.  The fleet, as large as it was, did not have the capacity to go to all of them.  There was no guarantee that the ambassador would detail a ship to be sent to Mongolia.  Even if one was, there were more than a million people in Ulan Bator and millions more scattered across the country.  There was no way to be sure that Qara would be one of the people rescued.

She resolved that she would do all in her power to intercede on behalf of the Mongolians.  The ambassador had urged her to offer her opinion whenever she thought it appropriate and she decided to take him at his word.  She would remind him that, when the expedition had first arrived on Earth, the Mongolians had been kind and generous hosts.  They had even been prepared to shelter their guests in the face of military incursions by their more powerful neighbours.  More than any other nation on Earth, they deserved help.

The situation in Thailand was much gloomier.  The Personet was down in much of South East Asia and it was difficult to ascertain what was happening there.  The latest reports she could find were of uncontrollable riots and rebellions across the area.  A hollow feeling settled over her when she found out that a fire had destroyed large sections of Bangkok.  She couldn't bear to think of anything having happened to the Royal Palace.  How could the humans be so careless with such beauty?

Unable to contain herself any longer, she decided to speak to the ambassador immediately.  She opened a com channel to his console, coding it confidential so no one else could access the conversation.  It was some time before he responded; he was busy co-ordinating the incoming ships.

When he eventually spoke to her over the com, it was in his usual calm, measured tone.  "Ah translator, most of the fleet is now in position and I will shortly give the command for it to descend to an orbit just above the planet's mesosphere.  From there, our shuttles will be able to travel to and from the surface relatively quickly.  But first, you shall broadcast a message to the humans over the Personet.  I believe that it is still active in most of the major centres.

"Word it carefully, the situation on the surface is volatile and we don't want to provoke an aggressive response. Reassure the humans that our intentions are peaceful and that we are here to offer whatever assistance is needed.  Stress that we have brought medical supplies and that we are prepared to evacuate anyone who wishes to escape war zones or dangerous radiation levels.  We do not intend to use military force or to involve ourselves in any conflicts, other than as peacemakers.  We are, however, more than capable of defending ourselves if attacked."

"Yes, sir," she replied hurriedly, anxious to get a word in before his attention was diverted elsewhere.  "Although the situation in Mongolia is not as bad as elsewhere, I recommend sending a ship there, ambassador."

"I am not going to do that, translator," he replied.

"But, sir…"

"Once the fleet has assembled and all ships have been despatched to the surface, Emissary itself will go to Ulan Bator.  I am mindful of our debt of gratitude to the Mongolians.  In the meantime, send your message, translator, and keep sending it.  We need the humans to trust us now as never before."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

When the soldiers reached the city, they headed straight for the Government Palace in Sükhbaatar Square.

Qara and Batu stood on the south steps of the palace, broadcasting to the outside world for as long as possible.  As soon as they saw movement on the far side of the square, they bolted inside.  They ran through the deserted corridors towards the president's office.  When they got there, they caught sight of Tegus waiting tensely in an outer office.

"Time to go," Qara said breathlessly.  "There are soldiers on the other side of the square."

"Chinese, not Russian," added Batu.

"Yes, the Russians are an hour away to the north," said Tegus.  "That is how long we have until the real battle starts.  Get up to the roof.  There are two 'copters waiting for us.  The president will be ready to leave in a couple of minutes."

He activated his 'mote as she and Batu hurried away.  "We have to go now, sir," she heard him say.

Qara couldn't believe how quickly things had gone wrong.  A few days ago Ulan Bator had been one of the most peaceful places on the planet.  Mongolia's vast distances had shielded it from the worst of the radiation, and life had continued there relatively normally.

It was the chancellor of the Northern European Federation who unwittingly set in motion the events which led to the invasion of the Mongolian capital.  A week ago, the rapid deterioration of planetary conditions led the Northern European government to conclude that the situation would soon go past the point of no return.  The chancellor broadcast a plea to all of the world's nations to work together to find a solution.  One of the suggestions he made was to ask the Mongolians whether there was any helpful Faerie Folk technology which may have been left behind at their facility outside Ulan Bator.  Perhaps there was something which could be used to reduce radiation levels or to neutralise weaponry.

The plea prompted the governments of both China and Russia to decide that, if such technology existed, whoever had control of it would hold a significant advantage.  Almost simultaneously, the old rivals announced that each intended to send troops into Mongolia to secure the facility for the good of everyone.

President Ganzorig protested immediately, stating that he would make any technology at the facility available to anyone who wished to study it for peaceful purposes.  It was too late.  The Russo-Chinese race for Ulan Bator had begun.

Ganzorig knew that his forces could not resist the twin invasions.  They could not stop the 'tank squadrons racing towards the city from both north and south, but he issued a terse warning that any 'copters which intruded into Mongolian airspace would be shot down.  That bought him time to evacuate the city.

Despite the fact that more than a million Mongolians lived in the capital, three times that number still lived as nomads or in small towns out on the steppes.  The nation was still nomadic at heart, and Ganzorig knew that, with the help of the rural population, the citizens of Ulan Bator would survive.  The invaders were not interested in the rest of Mongolia and would have no reason to go after them.

Spurred on by news of the imminent arrival of invading forces, the city was evacuated within two days.  In the government palace, Ganzorig kept a skeleton cabinet working feverishly.  The rest of the building was evacuated along with the rest of the city.

As soon as Qara and Batu reached the roof, they climbed into one of the two military 'copters sitting there.  Both of the big machines were revved up and ready to go.  She activated her 'mote.  "You have to get out of there now, Tol," she shouted above the noise of the 'copter's air-vortex system. 

Tol had insisted on staying behind at Mongolia Today's broadcast centre.  He wanted to make sure that her final reports on the situation in Ulan Bator reached as wide an audience as possible.  She had begged him to leave with the rest of the station's personnel, but he would not listen.

"This is more important than my safety," he had told her.  "The world must know exactly what is going on here.  Perhaps the Americans or the Europeans will send help."

Qara doubted that any help would come.  The rest of the world had its own problems to deal with.  The Americans were more concerned with the situation in the Middle East and on the Indian subcontinent than the skirmish in Mongolia.  The entire region from Egypt to Pakistan was a powder keg which could explode at any moment.  And the Northern Europeans were focussed on fending off the growing number of incursions from the multitude of warlords who now ruled much of Eastern Europe and the Balkans.

"Don't worry, I shall leave soon," Tol said.  "I just need to…"

She heard shouting in the background, the words indistinct.  "Tol, Tol!" she shouted.  "What's going on?  You have to get out of there.  Tol!"

He didn't respond.  She heard a couple of sharp reports which sounded like gunshots and then her 'mote went dead.  "Tol, Tol!" she shouted, trying to get him back.  But the connection remained dead.  Batu, who had been listening in on his 'mote, looked at her and shook his head.

"What's happened, Batu?  Where is he?"

Batu shook his head again.  "Invaders always secure the media first," was all he said.

"Why didn't he listen to me?  He shouldn't have been there."  She burst into tears and the burly cameraman put an arm around her shoulders.  At least Oyugun had left the city when she had told him to.  As had her father.  At least they were safe.

A few minutes later, the president and about a dozen cabinet members came up onto the roof, escorted by Tegus and several other security agents.  Ganzorig, Tegus and the agents climbed into Qara's 'copter.  The rest got into the other one.  Bringing up the rear was a large detail of Special Forces soldiers which had been securing the building.  The soldiers clambered into the 'copters, which took off immediately.  Both machines headed west.

At first, Qara was too upset to worry about where they were going and what would happen next.  She had been told that the president and his cabinet would go to Altai, a small town in the west of the country.  There they would carry on the business of government as best they could.

Although both China and Russia had stated that it was not their intention to occupy Ulan Bator, the Mongolians knew that wasn't true.  Whoever controlled the city controlled the Bogdkhan National Park and the Faerie Folk's facility within it.  It was inevitable that there would be a battle over the city and, after the dust settled, the victor was not going to simply walk away.

Batu nudged her and pointed through one of the open doors of the 'copter.  She looked and saw that it had banked to the south west.  The other 'copter did not follow and disappeared quickly into the distance.

Her natural inquisitiveness reasserted itself.  Where was her 'copter going?  Why had it deviated from its course?  Surely it was safer for the two 'copters to stick together until they were clear of the city?  And why was the president being separated from the rest of the cabinet?  Choking back her worry for Tol, she lurched unsteadily over to Ganzorig.

He saw her coming.  "We have to stop meeting in these things," he said when she got close enough.

His easy humour was reassuring, although she couldn't bring herself to smile.  "Is everything alright, sir?" she shouted.  "I thought that we were going to Altai?"

He nodded.  "We are.  I just need to fetch something first."

She looked at him in puzzlement.

"I'm sorry you are being dragged along.  You were supposed to be in the other 'copter.  I only realised that you were in this one after we had taken off."

Qara's 'mote chimed.  She ignored it.  "Is it wise to take risks with your safety, sir?  Can't this wait until things have settled down?"

Her 'mote chimed again and she caught sight of Batu trying to catch her attention from the other side of the cabin.  He was tapping his ear repeatedly.  Impatiently, she waved him away.  Couldn't he see that she was talking to the president?

"I don't think things are going to settle down anytime soon," he said a little grimly.  "Don't worry; our little detour shouldn't take long."

She grimaced.  "Are you not at liberty to tell me what is going on, sir?"

"No, I'm not," he said, "but I will anyway. We are on our way to the Faerie Folk's facility."

"What for?" she blurted out, before realising how impertinently she was quizzing him.

Instead of taking offence, he grinned wolfishly.  "You don't think I am going to let these invaders get what they want, do you?"

Her 'mote chimed again, but she was too intrigued with what Ganzorig was saying to notice.

"The Faerie Folk took everything from the facility with them when they left, but it suddenly occurred to me that there is something they may have inadvertently left behind."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"One thing they never shared with anyone was their cloaking technology, and for good reason.  In the wrong hands, it would be an extremely dangerous tool.  But, if you remember, the facility was cloaked when we got there that first day.  It was cloaked again to fool the Chinese and Russians the first time they invaded.  So, as soon as I realised that we were going to have to evacuate Ulan Bator, I sent a team of scientists back to the facility.  I instructed them to see whether the cloaking technology was not somehow part of the fabric of the building itself."

"In the same way that the process which distributes light and heat is built into the roof and walls?" she asked, understanding beginning to dawn.

"Precisely, he said.  "It was a long shot, but it has paid off.  My team found a network of organic fibres embedded within the hard-water of the building.  The power source it was originally connected to is gone, but when the team connected it to an alternative, the entire facility appeared to vanish.  The fibres have been stripped out and the walls re-hardened to hide that they were ever there.  When we arrive, we will evacuate the team and take the fibres with us.  When the invaders examine the facility, they will find nothing."

Qara found herself grinning at the prospect.  In the grand scheme of things, it was a minor victory.  But these days, victories were scarce and had to be savoured whenever possible.  She wondered whether the fibres could be put to any practical use and was about to ask when Tegus stumbled over and thrust a tablet into the president's hand.

"Take a look at this broadcast, sir," he said.

The president looked at whatever was on the screen and his eyes widened.  "Is this genuine?" he asked.  Where is it coming from?"

"Not from any source we know of," Tegus replied.  "We are still trying to identify it."

Ganzorig watched for a few more moments, and then passed the tablet to Qara.  "What do you make of this?"

She took the device and looked at what was on the screen.  It was a message from the Faerie Folk.  They had returned and were offering to evacuate anyone who wished to leave the planet.  She glanced across the cabin at Batu, her eyebrows raised.  He gave her an exasperated shrug.  That was what he had been trying to tell her, she realised sheepishly.  She looked at her 'link and saw that the calls which had been coming in were from various news channels which regularly carried her broadcasts.  They probably wanted to find out whether she knew anything about the message.

At first, she was sure that it was a hoax.  These days, the integrity of much of what was broadcast over the Personet was questionable.  Too often, the world's news channels were being used for propaganda purposes by whoever controlled them.  Reports were doctored, even fabricated, to skew perception in favour of a particular nation, faction, or alliance at the expense of another.  Paranoia ruled and misinformation was the order of the day.  Exacerbating the situation were legions of lunatics, weirdoes, and desperados who broadcast all sorts of rubbish.

The message was ostensibly from Translator Vi and appeared to emanate from an extra-terrestrial source.  But digital graphics could be used to replicate anything, and a talented hacker could easily falsify the source of a broadcast.

If it was a hoax, it was in very poor taste.  The planet was in an awful mess.  Every time nuclear weapons were used, people died and radiation levels rose.  In the past week alone, the United States, United Kingdom and China had all executed nuclear strikes against enemies both real and imagined.  Even worse was the predicament Russia found itself in.  Awash with nuclear weapons left over from the cold war, as well as new ones smuggled across its vast borders, its government had been forced to use more and more force in an attempt to eradicate armed rebels and insurgents who were bent on carving their own little kingdoms out of the hide of Mother Russia.

There appeared to be no solution to the chaos, no end to the madness.  If the message from the Faerie Folk was fake, it was more than cruel.  It offered hope and salvation, things that no longer seemed possible.

Her 'mote chimed, and this time she looked at her 'link to see who it was.  The readout told her that the call was from Translator Vi.  She froze.  Maybe she was wrong.  Maybe the Faerie Folk had really returned.  Or was this part of the hoax?  There was only one way to find out.  She answered the call.

"Qara-Chinua," she said hesitantly.

"It is good to find that you are well," said the caller in a high-pitched voice with a slightly metallic tone.