From: Jeff Johnson Date sent: Wed, 11 Nov 1998 "Earth 2500 AD" Copyright 1998 by Jeff Johnson "Do you think they'll come down and kill us?" "The Moonies?" "Shhh, don't call them that." Sara swatted her big brother lightly on the shoulder. He would protect her. "They say they're running out of water." Michael gazed up at the crescent moon. "We've got more than enough down here. We learned in school about how the oceans rose up when the icecaps melted because of global warming." She smiled at him. "Your pretty smart for a first grader. Wait until you advance into the fifth grade, deferential calculus and quantum physics, it's tough." He threw her a wink before mentally accessing one of the nano-bundles in his head. It responded with the time. "Come on squirt, time for bed." Michael led his sister off the balcony and back into her bedroom. "Will they run out of water on Mars, too?" she asked climbing into bed, laying her PQC on the side table. "Probably not, but if they do we have plenty down here. We'll just share it with everybody." He tucked his sister in and mentally turned down the lights. Sara was asleep almost instantly as her nano-bundles responded to her commands by increasing the melatonin levels of her brain. Michael made his way to his room, climbed into his own bed and prepared to do his homework. After commanding his PQC to download his assignment, Michael laid back and absorbed the information. His lesson was about the precursor of the very device that changed civilization, the PQC, personal quantum computer. More precisely, it was a lesson on the means of transmitting information through quantum teleportation. Material teleportation was still well beyond both science and technology, but information transfers over an infinite distant of space (in theory) had been found to be possible as early as the late 20th century when researchers were able to impart the spin of one particle to another instantly over a short distant. Devices like the PQC then operated as an interface between the global data storage system and the nano-bundles attached to the brain. Michael was getting tired, naturally, so he quicky drafted a report in his head, saved it to his PQC, then laid back on his pillow. As sleep took over his conscious mind, he wondered how students of the past ever did their homework with a keyboard, or even more archaically, with pencil and paper. "I heard they've got a mass driver and plan on launching chunks of the Moon at us." "In that case we better get another round. Barkeep!" Kesum turned and looked at the two gentlemen sitting at the end of the bar. The perfect Manhattan drinker was wearing the distinct gray and teal tunic of the Microsoft Federation. His companion wore the pastel blue tunic of Disney Land, hydro-engineer to be specific. He was one of the miracle workers who kept the oceans away from what was once known as Florida. "500 years of preparing for a killer asteroid and now the Moonies are going to pitch us one." "It's not moon rocks you should worry about," Kesum said as he placed the drinks down on the bar. "It's the genetic bomb." The two men sent search inquires to the GDS through their PQCs attached to their tunics. "You won't find it in the global data storage. Even with the Web there are still secrets." "So how do you know about it?" the engineer smugly asked. "A lot of people come into this bar, important people, people in a position to keep secrets. We live in a world were everything is known, almost everything. And when we come across something no one else knows about, well, we are still flawed humans and just have to tell someone. "One quiet night this guy comes in and we're talking about this and that when he asks me what I know about genetic engineering. I tell him only what I can get on the Web. So he asks me if I know of a cascade reaction. Beyond on article on molecular switches to turn on or off a series of genes I know nothing. "He begins to tell me a story about how there is a specific gene that's been identified, called, naturally, the cascade gene. He wouldn't elaborate which one was the cascade gene but the theory was that if you introduced a trigger. it would stimulate this gene to start turning off all of the others. In effect killing an organism." Kesum let the tale sink in. "Rumor has it that the Moonies have developed such a trigger. Even more, they've bred the gene out of themselves. If they released the trigger here on Earth, they could destroy all mankind and then take over, unaffected by it." Kesum smiled inside. The incredulous look on his patron's faces was always precious. "Think about it." He turned and walked to the other side of the bar, watching the animated conversation his story started, then grinned openly at the large tip it always produced. "You're a real shit, you know that," Kesum's partner said. "Do you have to tell them the truth?" "General, it's time." Colonel Mosso reminded his superior. "Thanks, Bob. Better take one last look." Stretched before the general was the stark nothingness of the lunar landscape. Almost 500 years and a half million occupants later it still looked dead, dressed in its gray shroud. He could barely make out the western rim of Moretus 114 kilometers away in the Earthshine. "Any response from Major Jens yet?" "No, sir, Mars has been silent. Just in case, we should have a package ready." "Handle it, will you Bob? It will take them a month before they can get here. We'll already be established and have the full arsenal up and programmed before then. What are the projections?" General Hoffman turned away from the portal and focused on the image floating above his desk. "The first casualties are being reported. We are well within the 72 hour window. Total eradication is predicted in 60 hours, including the anomalies," Mosso reported. "Yes, those few who may have had the cascade removed by natural mutation. Very good, Colonel, it's time we departed for our new home." Mosso followed the general out of the office and down the corridor to the port. They glided quickly in silence. It was an amazing simple thing to kill 12 billion people. All it took was to introduce the trigger into the water supply, making every faucet, beverage, or even the rain a perfect weapon delivery system. "Imagine it, Bob. We are going to start the human race over again. This time we'll do it right. Just think of the magnitude of our victory. 200,000 defeat 12 billion in 3 days. I'll be remembered as the greatest conqueror in history." "Michael, wake up." his mother was shaking him. "Quick, get all of your outdoor gear together. Hurry!" She ran out of the room and he could hear her helping Sara. Pulling a backpack from his closet, Michael did a quick inventory: Solar stove, water purifier, powercell, sleeping pouch, knife and hatchet. On a shelf he found his first aid kit, threw it in the pack with the other items and hurried down the hall to the living room. Passing his parents bedroom he saw his father lying on the floor. As if in a dream, he entered the room and stood over the body. His father's flesh was bluish in color. Michael knew he was dead. "Don't look! Hurry, hurry, we have to go." Michael's mother was burdened with two large packs and his father's rifle. "Take care of your sister. Never let her go." The trio hurried from the residential complex. The sun had just cleared the horizon and was beaming strongly off the reflecting skin of the buildings. They ran in the strangely empty streets, empty except for the occasional body. Had they been able to get above the city they would have seen nothing. No transports following their magnetic strips, no sounds of commerce echoing through the metropolitan canyon. If they had gone to the zoo they would have found all the apes had died. "Where is everybody, Michael?" Sara said as they ran on. "I don't know, sweetie," her mother answered. "Be quiet and keep running. We have to get to the ranch before night." The family made it to the grassland on the outskirts of the city. Michael's mother estimated that they had 20 more kilometers to go, maybe less since they didn't have to keep to the freeways. In the shade of an oak tree they stopped to rest and have lunch. "I can't access anyone on the GDS," Michael said, examining his PQC to see if it was malfunctioning "And you won't. There's nobody there anymore. Put your PQC away and have something to eat. We'll be on our way very soon." After lunch they started out over the grassland in the direction of their family's ranch. It wasn't much, but they had horses there. Michael's mother was confident that if they could get to the horses then there was a chance they could escape into the mountains until she was able to learn more about what was happening. Exhausted, they finally arrived only to find the horses gone from the stable. Hoping they were just out roaming over the hills, the trio staggered their way to the main house. Opening the door they were caught by the smell of food cooking. "Dad! Your alive!" Michael's mother nearly collapsed in the older man's arms. "Sonia, Michael and Sara, thank heaven you're alright," cried their grandfather. "Mom?" Sonia whispered. "She didn't make it. Paul?" "No, the virus, or whatever it was got him too. They say it's some sort of genetic weapon." Sonia said, finally gathering her strength. "That would explain what happened, why your mother and your husband didn't survive. They weren't Helgeruds. Thank goodness the children both inherited whatever's keeping us alive. How did you know to come here?" "We came for the horses. Where are they?" "Out back. I see you've brought your gear. I'll gather mine together. In the meantime, you two wash up and I'll set the table for dinner. Sonia, your mother's upstairs, I'll take care of everything down here." After the children had gone to sleep, Sonia and her father carried her mother's body out of the house and took it to the stable. There they finally allowed themselves to grieve fully for what had happened. The sun hadn't climbed the horizon when Sara and Michael were dragged out into the chill morning air. They saddled three horses and used the fourth as draft. Before they could mount up the air was filled with the sounds of a vertical take-off and lander. The sleek craft settled just inside the fenced stable area. Sonia pulled the microwave rifle out of it's case and checked the charge. Satisfied, she aimed at the hatch as it was opening. There was a figure of a man but he wasn't emerging. He seemed to be struggling with something in the passenger compartment. Finally he stepped out. "Richard, Sonia. It's me, Max, Max Noon. Petra's son," said the stranger. "Petra's son? How did you find us?" Richard asked. The man standing before him could be his nephew, but it had been ages since he last saw him. "The same way the Moonies will, through the PQCs. You've got to destroy them right now and then we have to get out of here." Max explained all he knew, how he had come across secret reports in his job at GDS, the disaster on the Moon resulting in the loss of the entire water supply, General Hoffman and the conquest of Earth by the Lunarians. He wondered if he should have told more people than just that one bartender.