New visitors to the chronicles from the future may first wish to visit the past, by reading the earlier hologramletters. (see the older listings on the right, go to the bottom and click the link to the earlier hologramletters)
He had been eagerly waiting for the batteries to recharge. It was now time to hear from Anthony. The suspense had been unbearable. He powered up the monitors and downloaded the message from the hologramletters library files.
NOTE The following is an adaptation from the soon to be released book ‘Letters From 2030’. To register interest on its release, or to order a copy email Bob Williamson via this link.
January 7th 2030:
I record this hologramletter very early in the A.M. hours. Sleep, deep restful sleep, is a forgotten memory. Even now in the extreme safety of this underground labyrinth I can’t find peace. We have been here around 15 months. There is ample living quarters, yet, I maintain the J-squad sleep in a barracks situation. They believe this is for reactionary time in the off chance marauders get inside. The truth Bob, three of the men still suffer from PTSD, waking in the night screaming and ready to kill. I keep them together for the safety of the group at large. They served in Iraq, Afghanistan and conducted covert missions into Pakistan. After the massacre and kidnapping of our wives and children, the tremors – as I call it – broke out in their sleep again.
I had mentioned that this compound had to be built for alternative reasons. The main sight covers about 50 acres, I guess, with buildings and laboratories. However, concealed accesses give way to miles of underground tunnels. It comes complete with living quarters, rec-centres, laboratories and various other facilities. In my mind this was a survivor, doomsday complex. The main power supply is from geothermal energy. It is my understanding that solar arrays are in the nearby Mountain range for back-up power. The transmission system is a Smart Grid, installed at least a decade before America began their belated efforts in the lower forty-eight. (Really pisses me off knowing they had the technology when they claimed it wasn’t fully feasible. Just another one of corporatocracies lies’.)
There exist underground horticultural centres here capable of feeding at least two-thousand. Yet, we are told the compound only has living space for 750! I enjoy working with Viki, the botanist, pollinating the plants. While it is rather tedious, my green thumb still exists. I asked her if they had any Kush seeds. She said that Patricia fails to release them. That is another issue I have to deal with. The multitude of uses we could apply that to, from constructing our own rope and clothes, to medicine, writing paper, and flour out of the seeds, I believe. I would love to use it for the three boys with PTSD. In an attempt to help them sleep through the night. Boys, they are in their late thirties to mid-forties and seen more horrors than any person should, men of honour. They get a chuckle out of me calling them boys, in return they refer to me as The Relic or Old Man.
Rising early yesterday, I prepared breakfast for the early crew, about twenty of us. Yes, I still love to cook. I took Rosa her breakfast, as she wasn’t around per her usual. I found her crying her eyes out and very upset, blathering on really. Some aspects of womanhood will never change, thank Gaia for that.
She showed me satellite images of the area where your transmission comes from. (Curious Bob, you ever had an affair with a cute little redheaded American intern? LOL! This woman holds you in high regard.) ........... Bob could see her tears as Anthony relayed his message.
Yes, the science squad has access to all remaining U.S. civilian and military satellites. She was pointing at the screen and carrying on about the desolation of your predicament and the scarcity of power, food, and water supplies in the area. When I pressed her on how she could ascertain all that information, she dried up the tears, quickly, and changed the subject.
Patricia, the brightest of the scientists, was a child prodigy I am told. She has, they claim, five PhDs. She is the type of person whose idea of idle chitchat is quantum theory. Personally, I suspect she was secret service at the compound. I asked Derrick, the J-squad’s communication expert to set up monitoring posts on some of the off limit tunnels marked radioactive and extreme bio-hazards. We have caught her coming and going through these tunnels.
Bob reached out to pause the transmission and look more closely at the face of Patricia. Something rang a distant bell in his memory. Who was she?
He looked closely at the face and saw a flickering memory pass over her. No surely not! Was it Katey? Was it Katey Walter from all those years ago? He spoke about her research in his book and knew her quite well. He searched through the historic files and came across the reference in 2009 http://www.alaska.edu/uaf/cem/ine/walter/
It was Katey! Why had she changed her name?
Bob’s good friend and author Fred Pearce had brought her work to prominence back in 2009 with his story ‘Arctic meltdown is a threat to humanity’ in the New Scientist magazine http://tinyurl.com/cdeljf
Was it the controversy the story had made? She did drop out of sight after that. She was right of course, but back then people just hadn’t wanted to hear the facts. They didn’t want the truth, they wanted comfort. ‘Business and living as usual’
He must let Anthony know; he thought, he was sure that Katey was still the person she was back then. She must be convinced to work with him; to open up to him, she was one of the brightest of the bright. She had told the truth then but had been ostracised by the broader conservative scientific community for speaking out. Now if only she could be convinced to work with Anthony they could make significant progress. Bob had to gain her trust, he had to make contact with her once more.
He recommenced the hologram:-
Yes, the science squad and the military team don’t trust each other. I guess human nature, in spite of extreme trials is still human nature, another issue I am working on correcting, transparency.
I plan on writing to you about the operation, how through the use of duty roosters and full accountability reporting things have been held together. There is a storm of mistrust brewing here. I have to get through to Rosa, make her understand that no secrets can be kept concerning the compound.
Forgive me old friend, but my circumstances here are a paradise compared to those of anyone surviving on the outside. Let alone survivors down under and throughout the middle latitudes. Once again, however, I ask you for your help. Send a message out to Rosa and to the survivors across the globe. Tell them, her, to trust and help each another. They claim there are around 375,000 people left, somewhat higher than Lovelock’s projection. If their number is right, I suspect that 75-80 percent of them are naziistic marauding beasts. It is hard telling how many will be left after they finish killing each other off.
Remember I classify humanity in two categories, the humane and the animal. I need to understand the full potential of this HARRP Complex, you my friend may be able to persuade Rosa to release the information. For the record, they claim only 15,000 are in the badlands, all the rest have migrated above the Arctic Circle. I have repeatedly tried to discover the how and why of, only these four were here when we came on the scene, only to be shut down, ignored and have the subject changed. They tried to blame it on the plagues, once. Perhaps this is the truth that they survived, joined up, and headed north out of Washington State as they claimed.
So much is still a mystery. Sometimes, here in the early morning hours I forget how fortunate I am. After all, I have my son, how and why we escaped the pandemics, the naziistic bastards and made it here, I will never know. I will leave you with a statement from my father, “old too soon and wise too late.” Write that letter Bob, literally the slim chance our species has may depend upon this outpost of antiquity. Who knows, if man does survive, this may become a fabled story like Atlantis.
Your friend winging it, as always. Anthony.
P.S. Just saw your post of the 5th. Here is my attempt at a poetic response.
Never awakening the masses knew not what their shopping sprees would cost the lot
Laughing and joking they looked upon those with wisdom to see beyond
Tree huggers, hippies, nature freaks
They thought all was fine all was right
We, the enlightened worked day and night
We tried to reason by logic, scare by fright
We did not fail humanity
It was the Naziistic Beast
That failed we of humane divinity.
Anthony’s answer to his question; why did we hate our children and theirs- touched him.
Replaying it once more to look at the other images and memories, he had so much to tell Anthony in the next hologramletter to him.
So much to do; so little time.