Unity Pointe - Chapter 1
(I will post a new chapter each week for a total of 22)
Two hundred years ago, Antarctica was a frozen desert at the bottom of planet Earth. A wasteland, utterly unattractive and too brutal for investment. Today, the land mass straddles the equator. Australia’s south eastern tip lies to the north and Patagonia to the south. The radical shift happened in 2053CE.
No eyewitness survived the ‘Singularity.’ Its origin remains nebulous. High radiation, detected by the survivors, spoke of nuclear detonations. Extreme micro-Sievert levels didn’t account for the sum of destruction wrought on Terra. Some concluded world war three happened. Others surmised aliens attacked the planet. Those who survived spent the rest of their born days under ground in near total ignorance. So did their children, grandchildren and on to the fifth generation.
By gen-five, no human alive had seen a blue sky or the constellation Orion in person. Hiding from the radiation and cold, one hundred years passed in New Melbourne, Australia's only surviving population center. There were pictures and videos depicting what used to be. It saddened the elderly. The young were indifferent, as they knew nothing else.
Post-traumatic stress, Draconian laws, and regulations stifled outward arguments for personal freedom and privacy. Humans crawled from their subterranean metropolis and explored what remained of planet Earth.
The religious experience of breathing natural air, feeling the wind, and seeing the sun in a blue sky converted many disciples. All this fire and brimstone was God's judgment on mankind. With Noah and the ark, God pledged to never flood the land again. He said anything about burning it with a nuclear plasma torch.
It wasn’t canned food, filtered water and windmills that rescued humanity. Fusion energy and robots bore the cross of keeping people fed, watered, and sheltered. Of the thousands of people, two families led the new world order. Australian House Stone controlled every aspect of energy production down under through their pre-Singularity international corporation, Antipodes.
At Singularity, Antipodes Energy had everything they needed for fusion reactor construction and maintenance. A recently certified facility on Dooms day morphed into New Melbourne as employees, their families, and local politicians from surrounding communities took refuge in the massive underground manufacturing plant northeast of old Melbourne.
Theories abounded as to what happened. Nobody lived long enough to find out for themselves. Their children gave birth to a third generation. Twenty years into Gen-3, atmospheric tests topside showed radiation levels were dropping. Hope flickered among the subterranean humans.
Temperatures crept glacially beyond two degrees Celsius, where they hovered in the previous decades. Earth was finally stirring from its coma one hundred forty years later.
Earthquakes were a simple fact of life underground like rain used to be. Night and day, the planet shook. Terra oscillated for decades, gradually settling on a new axis—the poles tilted almost seventy degrees.
When the seismic activity diminished, Earth's makeover was complete. She had wobbled and keeled over sideways, bringing Antarctica out of hibernation on a new equatorial line. One that ran down the middle of Antarctica along the thirtieth east and one hundred fiftieth west lines of old maps.
North America, incinerated on day one, became the new arctic, while Africa slid down becoming the South Pole. South Africa, stopping just shy of the equator, projected north. The Amazon burned to the ground, then froze. Patagonia escaped extinction, the only remnant of South America, reaching out of the Arctic.
One hundred years into the new ice age, astronomical observations by remotely operated drone probes baffled incredulous scientists. Data confirmed Australia’s eastern coast lay on the equatorial line. More calculations surmised Antarctica must straddle the equator.
Asia, Africa, North America, and South America’s fates remained unknown for decades. No communication had ever been received from those places while New Melbourne transmitted a distress signal 24/7.
The other family, House Xing, was destined for power in a dystopian future. When the world ended, Xing Engineering controlled the southern hemisphere’s largest android manufacturing plant in a joint venture with Antipodes. A robotic labor force toiled night and day for decades. Digging, shielding, reinforcing, and repairing on a scale impossible if the humans had to do it on their own. Indeed, House Xing cemented its place at the hierarchy’s apex.
Humans supervised robot armies from bunkers deep underground, comfortably reclined in a control chair, keeping everyone alive. They chiseled giant caverns for gargantuan greenhouses. One hundred percent genetically modified food became suddenly in vogue. All food, whether animal based or plant based, got processed and distributed equally. At least among the ‘common’ citizen-survivors.
Those in power, the Xings, Stones, and sundry other Elites ushered in a modern era of feudalism and noble hierarchy. Freedom and liberty remained a recalcitrant foe of the Elite, who desired control of everything—for the greater well-being.
When the world reopened, many people left at the first opportunity. They didn’t wait for council approval, sneaking out through ventilation ducts and sewer pipes. Thus, the right and left of human ideology resumed its war for minds. And resources. With an empty planet, limitless resources and scant enforcement capability, a worldwide wild west opened.
The Xing's and Stone's christened new Elite families from the ever growing common stock. A path to power served as a check against growing populist sentiment. Let the commoners ‘feel’ like they’ve got a say in things. They appointed a parliament. Power grew exponentially for many.
Explorers ventured out. After twenty years of exploration, a final tally of survivors accrued; South Africa had New Johannesburg, South America had Patagonia and Australia had New Melbourne. Sprinkled across the globe, unknown bands of post-apocalyptic barbarians roamed. Antarctica emerged as a pristine archipelago.
While the Underworlders cowered in the Earth's crust, the planet healed. Life outside of the three subterranean zones had scrounged, scratched, and survived without fusion reactors or androids. They survived by instinct, determination and plenty of violence. Clashes between Underworlders and Topsiders flashed almost immediately upon contact. Suddenly, there was all kinds of competition and desecration of hunting grounds and holy places. Constant tribal friction kept things brutal on the frontier.
Antarctica, virtually untouched by the world's destruction, flourished in its new equatorial location. When temperatures first rose, the glaciers melted away; raising the oceans and re-configuring everything previously known. Like Noah's ark, Antarctica evolved into a lush wilderness teeming with birds, insects, reptiles and mammals. South American, African and Australian species flew, swam, floated and drifted into the world not yet remembered by time. Sea life thrived along with land based fauna. Antarctica's new locus caused a massive melt off of ancient glaciers. When the big thaw waned, Antarctica was an archipelago of flora and fauna.
Out of all the science settlements previously occupying the frozen continent, only McMurdo Station survived. They had to move the whole science establishment inland onto solid rock during the thaw. Completely cutoff, the McMurdo people survived with a tribe of one hundred eighteen men and women. There were no children, at first. They had to start making them from scratch.
Xing survey drones made the first videos of the Antarctic Shangri-La. Parliamentary restraint kept the Houses from claiming it for their own. Forced to play along, an organized, government lead policy of colonization kicked off.
One of House Xing's revolutionary technological developments was a vertical takeoff and lift electric plasma jet aircraft (VTOL.) The plasma engines didn’t need liquid fuel. Rather their fuel came in the form of Nano-printed power cells holding enough energy for a ten thousand kilometer trip on one charge.
The Xing dynasty, capable of going anywhere now, wielded its new found tech advantage promptly and efficiently. Not with armies and missiles, but by driving its flag into Antarctica and getting first dibs on its resources.
The Christian-Stewards, Jesus’s modern disciples, held a majority in the parliament, though. United People of Earth constitutionally protected the planet and all its resources. A legislative nice-face on Antipode’s venture was all part of the resource exploitation cabal. The skin of the truth, stuffed with a lie.
Wu Xing, soaring six kilometers over the northern Antarctic coast, marveled at the majestic, lush continent of lakes and islands stretching infinitely into the distance.
Life persists even with humanity’s incompetence, and nature’s psychotic penchant for annihilating living things.
Of Chinese decent, Xing wasn’t a tall man at one hundred seventy centimeters. His thin build, shaven head, and bespectacled appearance spoke more of a Shao Lin priest than a chief executive of the world’s most powerful oligarchy.
He panned his gaze across the NM-107 VTOL's passenger cabin. Sleeping in the seat to his left, Jim Warren, two meter tall, blonde, chiseled, ex-New Melbourne special security operator. Xing's personal bodyguard had a tendency to fall asleep on plane rides. True to form, the welter weight man slouched in his chair, legs outstretched and crossed. His head lolled to one side, eyes closed and laced fingers holding it all together at his abdomen.
Xing’s gaze shifted across from Warren, stopping on Grady Paulk, seismic research engineer accompanying Xing and Stone to Unity Pointe, Antarctica. Paulk, a pudgy, soft expert in geologic resource assessment, kept both hands clasped firmly on the chair’s arms. Unaccustomed to venturing far from civilization, Paulk was especially terrified of flying. Heights gave him vertigo, but sudden stops were the worst. Eyes fixed on the deck, he counted the kilometers until they landed. Xing's eyes roamed to the woman sitting, legs crossed, and elbow on the chair's arm. Tracene Stone, chin resting on a fist, was a definitively beautiful woman with a perpetual scowl giving her pretty features a twinge of sinister.
Xing could almost see the gears spinning between the headphones on her blonde head. She flicked her blue eyes up to meet Xing's visage. Stone pulled in a sigh, returning her gaze out the window. “I just want to drop a Geo-explorer drone on every island down there.” Her voice sounded tinny with a high pitched electronic background noise.
Xing nodded, observing the landscape outside. “Soon, we will know every square millimeter.”
Stone rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “These parliament Neanderthals are nothing but an obstacle. Why our grandparents saw fit to give them power is beyond me.” She swept a dismissive hand.
Xing made a subtle gesture. “As the population grows, civil government will become the primary conduit of control. The factions are two sides of the same coin.” He inclined his head slightly. “Yin and Yang, if you please.”
Stone leaned back in her chair, lacing fingers on her abdomen. “It's a waste of time. Who would stop us if we opened up twenty mining operations?” She spread her hands. “Nobody. It’s a once in a millennium opportunity. I say we send out surveyors immediately.”
Xing studied the Antarctic coast a moment. White lines of waves crashed against black rock. Beyond the thin strip of rock, green foliage bloomed like an emerald sponge. Underneath it all: minerals, precious metals and oil. Parliament reacted to oil like a vampire to sunlight, hissing and spitting and demanding it be taken away. But it was still a useful—and profitable—resource.
Xing, locking eyes with Stone, breathed a sigh. “If we take what we want, our reputation will be ruined--”
Stone chopped one hand into the other. “Screw our reputation! We've got the power to do as we please. Kowtowing to a bunch of politicians is a slippery slope. There's always one trying to make a name for themselves by coming up with some new bullshit regulation. Never mind the petty shake downs just to get a permit approved. We’ve made a monster.”
Xing inclined his head again and nudged his boom mic closer to his mouth. “Never the less, a long-term strategy requires stability. Once we've jumped through the legal hoops and compromised enough of these politicians, we will do as we please with a stamp of approval.”
Heaving a sigh, Stone scowled, folded her arms and glared out the window.
Grady Paulk finally spoke up. “We’ve got one thousand mining droids on standby. I could have the first batch of one hundred here in twenty-four hours.”
Xing, opening his mouth to speak, got cut off by an abrupt drop in altitude, followed by a quick rise. Paulk's white-knuckles increased their grip. Stone unfolded her arms, clutching the armrests. The bumping and rattling continued, getting more violent with each wave. Face blanched, Paulk pressed his head back in the chair and closed his eyes. Xing, hands on his armrests, cocked an eyebrow, noting Warren still slept, head jiggling in the turbulence.
A baritone voice from the intercom said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the rough weather. We're coming in ahead of a front. Please stow your things and fasten restraints.”
Xing knew Stone didn't enjoy getting shot down. He knew her aggressive spirit is an energy best used judiciously. Lines of authority were clearly demarcated among Elites. Stone’s status sat her several levels below Wu Xing's position in the hierarchy. She could address him as an equal, but couldn't oppose him. Do as one is told and one will advance. Then one can call the shots. That’s the way it works. Or so the adage goes. Xing laid hands on his lap, fingers woven. He focused on serenity and peace, flushing trepid thoughts. We all must die someday and face our forefathers. I want to arrive with honor and praise for how I managed a world.
Stone eyed the Zen-like expression on Xing disgustedly. He always knew best. He was always cautious, always the tortoise. Tracene Stone never believed the tortoise won on a regular basis. The story represents a fluke. An exception to the rule. That made the lesson myopic. It didn't take into consideration creative thinking and experience. Admittedly, in the decade she had known him, he was better at everything than everybody. That's the only reason I let the smug dickhead boss me around.
The AI pilot made another announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are nearing Unity Pointe and will enter final approach in five minutes. Please secure any loose things, fasten your seat belts and prepare for landing. Thank you.”
With a tug on his seat belt, Xing relaxed, as best he could, and watched the scenery grow larger out the window.
Stay tuned for the next chapter...
If you can't wait, click here and download the complete story.
Other books by R.T. Breach:
Operation Palmetto
Operation Watchtower
Operation Blue Eagle
Operation Raven Rock
Referal Links to some of my favorite crypto stuff:
Emrit Coolspot: https://app.emrit.io/sign-up?ref=8a21f321-fb6a-49b0-94b9-92e9cf1175c8
Final AutoClaim: https://autofaucet.dutchycorp.space/?r=ivksdoi4
RollerCoin: https://rollercoin.com/?r=l5kxpqjp
SimpleBits: https://simplebits.io/ref/DlRyNFGb9kt8