Broken Mirror: Apophis 2029 (34 page)

    "Shuttle doors sealed, T-minus three minutes until lift off.  All personnel are to clear the launch pad."

  I had managed to lift the child off his feet by his willingness to take my hand and we made our way back to the hatch in haste, only to rush my last steps towards the door as it cycled shut on us with a hiss. Through the portal window, I could see Beatrice.  She stood up slowly over the Cypher's semi-limp body, his legs still twitching in spasms.  She dropped the severed arm she had used to club him to death, and looked up into the sky as she heard the words of the computer sound through the bay of the impending launch.

  She turned towards me just as the hatch pins locked; an odd look of surrender and satisfaction damp within her eyes, dripping with infected blood that was splattered across her face.  Her body suddenly jerked back; the shot that took her down muffled from the shielded walls of the ship.  A moment later Thorn was there, his hand upon the window as the energy coils began to whir and the shuttle entered into automatic pilot sequence.  I stood there looking into Thorn’s dark eyes on the far side of the thick glass of the portal, an ache growing within me that widened beyond what I had ever felt possible. 

  I turned and rushed for the cockpit door to stop the launch, only to beat helplessly upon the locked hatch as I punched it with my fists.  Blue letters blinking across the panel 'Security access not recognized.'  The chip I needed to access the cockpit was embedded within Betty's hand, laying just feet outside the sealed portal.  There was nothing I could do. 

  The coils powered up to a high pitch as I jumped back to the porthole window, Thorn and Tasha were standing farther away, shielding their eyes as the thrusters under the ship kicked in.  Blast shields rose around the ship, directing the force into exhaust tubes; which explained the purpose of the massive heatsinks we had discovered lining the rail depot.  There was no sign of Ava, her body had been drawn over the verge of the platform, and the weepers had taken her.  Tasha had put a merciful bullet to her head as Ava had begged in her last moments before being torn apart.  I stood there at the window and cried, helpless and afraid.  I couldn't tell if Thorn could read my lips as I tried to find something ...anything to say.

  "Don't forget me..."

  The clamps that restrained the ship unbuckled as the leveling thrusters initiated and we felt the ship rise.  It hovered for a moment as a soft female voice began to count down thirty seconds.  The little boy grabbed my shirt, tugging at me; but I didn't know what he wanted.  He finally gave up and crawled past the bulkhead to where he had sat hidden before, tucking himself in the crawlspace.

  There were no seats in the hold, and it finally dawned on me it had all been an act; Cypher had thoroughly lied about loading the shuttle with supplies and being able to transport us as passengers.  He had no intention of taking us along when he escaped the lab, we were to be left behind. 

  Neon biohazard signs lined the walls along with numerous warning tags within the small cabin.  This had never been a prototype model; the sole function of this ship had been to deliver the secured pathogen up to the space station.  It was the designated transit vehicle to bring the original microbe to the orbiting station without risking the key personnel, who were supposed to have arrived in the first shuttle launch, which Cypher had scuttled.

  The view outside the small window became fogged as a white mist enveloped the ship.  Tasha and Thorn made a run for cover from the blast as the robotic crane arms lowered in unison while thick steel barriers folded out from the edge of the platform and locked into place.  With an audible metal 'pop' the power cable detached and with a horrendous scream the engine coils ignited.  I felt the unyielding pull of gravity wrench me off my feet as a steel pipe raced up to greet me, and everything went black.

  My head ached terribly and I could feel the sore knot on my head when I awoke.  I almost passed out again when I tried to stand, noting that I felt lighter once I had finally gotten on my own two feet. I was still lingering in a state of shock as I called out for the boy; not finding him back in his hiding place.  My back throbbed with pain as I stumbled out of the open hatch into a brightly lit corridor. 

  It was a strange change to be in a structure that was so sterile with walls covered in glossed metal and clean white panels.  Still in a daze, I still did not quite know where I was until I passed by a thick paned window that enveloped the night sky.  It was strange, I thought, as it had mid morning when the shuttle launched, just now noting as my vision cleared how the blackness beyond was speckled with countless stars.  I made my way through another doorway noting the air had a strange taste to it.

  I found a ladder that took me to what looked like the main bridge of a ship.  It wasn't the active panes or blinking lights nor displays quietly graphing data that caught my attention, but the glare of the crescent Earth that glared in through the port windows that left me mesmerized.  I was on the Mirage Space Station gently gliding in silent orbit.  From here, the world looked calm, quiet and content.  I knew it was a facade of course; our planet was not at peace.

  I didn't know if I should laugh or cry in that frozen moment, only realizing how easy it is to feel so detached when you've distance yourself from the truth.  The boy strode into the room, distracted by something he was carrying in his tiny hands.  He found me standing there alone on the bridge and took my hand, placing in my palm a small white flower with its lush green leaves intact.  I gazed at it for a moment in respite, then placed the tiny flower gently on the console and looked down at the display.  Though Cypher had cleansed the space station of its active personnel, it had remained fully operational all this time.  The air here was filtered and reprocessed by a self-sustaining terrarium, which recycled the limited water; the reclamation systems had been already placed on full automation.

  I followed the boy back to the terrarium where we found a jungle of plants of every species, growing in harmony, fed by an intricate system of bio filters into a lush botanical garden.  Exploring the station further, there were scores of storage cells packed with untouched cargo, and medical labs equipped with dozens of containment modules.  I walked with the boy by my side among the empty chambers and maze of corridors lined throughout the superstructure that left a haunted feeling as to its forgotten purpose.  Touching my scalp, I noticed a trickle of blood and felt a persistent throbbing in my head that grew worse with every step.

  The Mirage was a massive station equipped with a vast array of solar collectors that could sustain a crew of hundreds, supplied for all of our top leadership and the privileged elite, all of whom would never step foot here.  We returned to the control room where I began to feverishly search the data screens for a spare ship or evacuation pod; any form of transport to get the both of us back to the surface.  In final submission, I realized there was none; Cypher had long since sabotaged them all in his previous efforts to purge the station. 

  Isolated from all the others on the bridge, a bright red screen demanded my attention and was drawn towards it while the little boy took a seat in a console chair next to me, quietly examined the tiny flower he had plucked from the stations greenhouse.

  The blinking screen ceased when I finally placed my hand on the trimmed console and its image widened to reveal that the MN4 viral package delivered from the shuttle had been assimilated into the system.  It then occurred to me that this station wasn't just an asylum for the top brass, but had been developed with a bioweapon delivery system for warfare.  Mirage had not been created for mere survival for the best minds of our race, but as a disgraceful defense system they could use to intimidate countries or as a preemptive strike against any nation that failed to comply with their wishes.  Privileged with this power, they could enact global control far out of reach where nobody could ever touch them.

  As a safeguard, Cypher had evidently programmed a two hour timer to be initiated after infusion of the of the purified KRI pathogen into the bio defense systems.  He had planned to run this place alone, to act as God over the decaying world spinning below him.  The consoles themselves were unhindered in their function; for it didn't recognize that there were actually no Generals here, no Scientists or pompous bureaucrats, nor Government Officials to run amuck in this flying ivory tower ...there was just me at the controls. 

  Looking at the timer, there was now less than twenty minutes left on the countdown before it locked the system, the screen requesting a code to abort the sequence; unfortunately, it was a code that only Cypher knew.  All that was left was to choose between a full counterforce strike, or a full system purge of the purified strain of the deadly alien pathogen.  It was a slight alteration of the original program protocols Cypher had initiated when he had finally taken control of the stations systems.

  I was mildly surprised when the little boy stepped over and pointed to one of the two tabs, as if to prompt my choice.  He gazed out at the Earth below us and turned to look up at me with his soft eyes, for they were strangely delicate yet blooming with a sense of empathy to twist the conflicting emotions now swirling within me, as if he was providing approval and consent to the difficulty of the decision I had to make, now wavering under my hands.

  A blue light lit the room as all systems suspended while a cylindrical pod jettisoned from the center of the station and fired towards the cloud-filled planet below.  A strange calm fell over me as I looked down at my hand, neither in wonder nor surprise, only accepting the actions my subconscious had taken without further thought.  The look in
the little boys eyes said everything, and I realized the child had persuaded me to do what I already knew should be done. Instead of purging the virus and destroying it, I had commenced a global strike.

Curiously, I felt no remorse as some might assume.  Nor did I use every last second on the clock to weigh the fate of mankind as one might expect.  There was no need to prolong the discomfort and contemplation any other person might take to question my actions.  Most people would defend mankind and all its accomplishments the millennia's; our arts and science, music and poetry, the fantastic and incredible inventions our race has created, things of beauty and love; and yet I had ended it all without hesitation ...realizing that my decision as to the fate of the world had already been made long, long ago.

  The payload of the missile deployed mere moments before it touched the atmosphere.  I watched with cold resolution as countless hundreds of cluster rockets detached and guided for impact in every major city across the globe.  The modified super virus would spread unchecked, infecting every species of mammal with the toxic germ; there was little chance that anyone would survive the new pandemic that would follow in its wake, creating enhanced raging mutations that would ravage the planet and reset the ecosystem after human race itself had been erased from the world. 

  Mankind had proven itself a dangerous and unpredictable species, and had chosen its fate long ago; it was only our technology and ability to advance to this point in history that we finally caught up with our own self-persecution.

  I felt tired and numb, not thinking about myself; though I could feel warm blood trickle from the deep concussion to my head, which I had suffered during launch.  I no longer had the luxury of time to think about the nameless child who sat quietly beside me in his innocence nor how he might survive here alone after I was gone.  I slumped down on the floor of the bridge feeling drained and sleepy
and though my head was throbbing
,
I felt a twinge pull at my heart like a distant ache as I thought about Thorn, and what might have been. 

  As I closed my eyes a final time, I considered the lives of countless survivors who had struggled and sacrificed so much of themselves, just to live another minute or another day these past long years since the catastrophic event which had cracked and splintered our most fanciful and egotistical dream of civilization.  That time had passed, and through the eyes of a child, we had offered a gentle mercy.  Like a broken mirror, we had been cursed these past seven years as the Earth was cleansed of our taint. 

  It was time for the human race to stop sifting through the splintered shards in such bitter desperation, to only find fractured reflections of ourselves, and our lost souls; and would finally accept that the dream of what mankind might have been was forever shattered, and could never truly be whole again.

The timeframe of this story is based in circa 2036, and though only 20 years into the future of this publication; I doubt I will live to see its term come to pass, as my life will likely end as a victim of government reprisal.  The actual MN4 asteroid event forecast in 2029 is a rare, once every 800 year occurrence; though it is the probable and unforeseen circumstances that gives such a colorful twist to this tale. The sobering reality is that we live in a world that is vulnerable to cataclysm in many forms at so many unpredictable scales; yet our civilization still endures, though mostly out of blissful ignorance.

  The human race has climbed to a level of technology where we can harness the limitless energy of the sun, the global wind and geothermal power to meet all our needs and beyond, yet our species still wastes an unwarranted amount of capital on trivial wars over foolish and phantom beliefs, antiquated borders and nonrenewable resources.  Each day, human kind itself destroys far more that it has ever created.  Ironic as it is that we claim to possess the intelligence to create such wonders, but lack
even the most subtle measure of sensibilities when wielding such power over nature; and that we instead choose to abuse such misguided potential against our fellow man for nothing more than pettiness and personal gain. 

  Needless resource wars are all too easily wielded as an excuse by shrouded governments that act through failed policies, who are in turn funded by crooked corporations with their own secret agendas.  Such entities are all too eager to manipulate the populace through repeated patterns of misinformation as to the true context of their treachery, and will always enforce a doctrine to treat citizens as if they were government property.

  Though asteroid Apophis is bound to arrive, I wonder if by 2029 that our societies might ultimately crumble into the shadow of martial law as foretold within, where people are scared and intimidated in the name of lawful compliance.  It would also be interesting to conclude if RFID implants might someday become commonplace only to have our every word and movement recorded and tracked under an umbrella of constant surveillance.  Some may believe that it is a work of fiction that our global internet and media is manipulated and censored, where free communications are restrained and could be suspended in a time of crises by a secret kill switch.  Some may also regard this as a tale of conspiracy when government entities overplay their hand only to invade and occupy foreign countries on unsupported whims, and their fleeced citizens are routinely force-fed justifications for such immoral behavior and blind misconduct under the false disguise of their own security. 

  When might a story foretell an age in the far future when people would be imprisoned and tortured without charges; or a culling of the masses on nothing but fabricated allegations and corralled into prison camps and forced labor where food, medicine and the most basic of freedoms are used as leverage against them.  It would be a vibrant yarn that spins tales of Government forces resorting to covert military operations as a means to an end, or exploits finance branches that spread malware and forge encrypted trenches to commit currency racketeering aimed to cripple economies.  This novel may be nothing more than a rich fable of Legal Authorities who stoop so disgracefully low and conspire together to promote their own continued existence and bloated budgets by inventing scenarios of scandal and conflict merely to unleash their own dark design, while it is the protected who eventually become the prey.

  If we should ever find ourselves in such a microcosm as theses extraordinary circumstances and fictional characters within, where the world we once knew collapses and becomes blurred by relentless oppression that creates anarchy and civil unrest; a final question must be asked.  Who among us will refuse to obey mindless commands from ruthless tyrants who compel us to commit atrocities against one another?  If ever the day should come, who among the waking world would take a stand for what is right while they pick through what splintered shards are left of our shattered world in hopes of finding an honest reflection of themselves, and dedicate their time to a deeper philosophy from that moment forward; that there is a better way for us to live and coexist, and to share this world together.