Chapter 1
Two weeks before Event: “We need someone to be on the ground at Starbase Prime when Operation Recharge Mars begins. Any volunteers?” Every hand in the large room raised immediately and enthusiastically. “Ok, that is a whole lot of hands. I should have been more specific. Let me set expectations for you. You will literally be on the ground with the rockets. You will not leave until the rockets are beyond Earth’s gravity, at which point you are going to get every interview you can from anyone there you can find. We actually need two teams. One team will focus on getting reactions from the technicians and ground support, while the other team will need to secure interviews with the leadership onsite. Teams will consist of a cameraman, reporter, and assistant. This assignment will not be a cake walk. There will be protestors, many of whom are threatening violence. Even though security will be tight, it will still be an explosive environment that could take off at any moment.” Crickets, no one laughed at the perfectly reasonable pun. Tom Meckler would not be discouraged, “furthermore, there will be an intense background screening that you will have to go through, and you will be isolated there one day prior and after the event for security purposes. Now, knowing that, how many of you want to volunteer? ”This time, only seven people raised their hands. “Very well, report to Mrs. Grish when this meeting is over, which is now, report now.”
Tom spent the next twenty minutes going over his vision for News 47 to a surprisingly enthusiastic audience of journos and crew. The world was about to change forever; they were finally doing it. Lord Chancellor and World President Abad was going to personally push the button that would send more than one hundred thermo-nuclear warheads to blow up the poles on Mars. This will allow humans to alter the atmosphere and climate of Mars to make it suitable for human life. Nearly every nation on Earth is involved in some way. Providing material, sites, and labor. It was a massive effort and a significant achievement. The Lord Chancellor had become a force in the world, seeming to rise from nothing to having almost Godlike powers. He had more than a hundred thousand satellites circling the globe, constantly collecting and feeding data. Every government used them by that point. He controlled all news and social media through his companies. His crypto project was likewise adopted and was now known as the global currency. His Artificial Intelligence company made most governments obsolete. He had streamlined everything. He was famous for saying people are data, and he owns all the data. Most people actually laughed, tragically believing he was only joking. There were still a few journalists going against him in the underground, yet they were all but extinct. He controlled the internet with his AI as his vicious watchdog, ready to rip anything or anyone to shreds that he considered a threat. He wanted a world in which all were free and equal, under him, and it seems like he had accomplished that, and was now expanding to other planets. Of course, the media, like Tom, enthusiastically hung on the Lord Chancellor’s every word. Tom was somewhere in between. He knew that the Lord Chancellor was a liar and wanted complete domination, but he also believed that in the end, it was what was best for humanity. After all, his AI had eradicated most cancers, and everyone had plenty of time for leisure, as most things in life were automated.
Mrs. Grish came to his office the next morning and informed him of the two crews that would be sent in to document the most significant leap forward in human history. Sara Beth Miller, journo, Mike Smilley, cameraman, Liz Harper on team one. They would be responsible for interviewing guests and catching liftoff from the ground. Team two, consisting of Andy Moses, journo, Buster Monk, Cameraman, Susan Wiliford, would be responsible for covering events from the tower, where the decision makers and even the Lord Chancellor himself would be attending. The next two weeks were filled with intense background checks. The teams were grilled as if they were spies from the Second Cold War. That was when the world first learned to fear the Lord Chancellor, instead of just love or hate.
The Eastern Nations that had united to resist the West’s takeover learned firsthand that it was too late to resist. They had allowed the Lord Chancellor to build his AI-powered fleet of satellites to shut down their internet and power, in addition to sending thousands of drones from the sea to intimidate world leaders everywhere they went. By the time the last signature was put onto the treaty. Every nation had either sworn an oath to serve or an oath to remain neutral. To be honest, the neutrality status was mostly to save face; no government dared to speak out against the Lord Chancellor. It wasn’t the leader the globalist cabal of the 21st century wanted, but they were happy with the result, nonetheless.
To make matters worse, almost four billion people agreed to have MindAware installed in their brains, and many were beginning to implant it in the brains of newborns. The AI “Pandora’s Miracle” captured every thought, feeling, impulse, moment. The implant was programmable to help adjust people’s moods, making sure everyone was always happy and obedient. Critics claimed it was the ultimate form of tyranny. Others praised the algorithm as the next logical step for humanity. The argument was that violence was impossible with the chip, and feelings of hurt, anger, despair, anything awful could be erased for just a few credits. Many people suspected that the Lord Chancellor was spying and manipulating everyone, but of course, that is impossible to prove publicly.
The team members were forced to write and speak several statements regarding how they felt about these events over and over again. With any minor deviation resulting in additional scrutiny or banishment. Nevertheless, both teams made it through and had been given their badges and were now under quarantine for two days before Recharge Mars. Crews were put into a hotel with sealed off exits and security cameras everywhere. It was the highest-tech prison in existence. In the hotel with them were royalty, prominent celebrities, and heads of state. The teams went around capturing as much B-roll as they could. Everyone they talked to was enthusiastic and in good spirits. The vibe was pulsing with energy. The night before the event arrived, and everyone was summoned to a grand dinner in the spacious hall of the hotel. Everyone was hoping the Lord Chancellor would show up, but he was busy making sure all last-minute needs were taken care of, per his spokesperson, Camille.
Dinner was a feast of kingly proportions. The finest of everything was made available, no expense spared. The finest cutlery, rare foods prepared and cooked by the world’s finest chefs, served by the most exceptional service team in the industry. In the background, the New York Philharmonic dazzled with vibrating renditions of Bach and Brahms. Wines from private collections wetted the lips of enthusiastic drinkers. There was a hard cutoff time of 9PM to ensure everyone would get a good night’s rest. The music stopped, and large, golden gongs, which were placed all around, were violently struck simultaneously to notify everyone that the show was over and the time for silent reflection had begun. One by one, each guest got up from the table, raised their arms, and said Nova aetas incipit nunc, like living dominoes praising God before they fall. Somewhere in the middle, it was Sara Beth Miller’s turn. Even though she was on team one, she was the de facto leader of both teams. She had a distinguished career and was well-respected by peers and admired even by her detractors. She stood up, raised her hands, but before she could say the mantra, she was overcome by her smirk and let out a muffled laugh. Complete silence fell upon the room. The congenial guards’ faces turned powerfully stoic.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about how funny it is that people are still doubting this moment in time.” The faces on the guards relaxed, and a collective exhale of relief swept through. Then, she delivered her line with appropriate gusto and marched along the arrowed floors back to her room. On the way there, she noticed a woman near the main lobby restroom. She was wearing green on a night when most were in a form of red or black. They made eye contact, and the woman walked into the restroom. Sarah felt a twinge in her gut as if she knew intuitively that she must follow that woman. She had that same gut feeling years ago when she noticed a suspicious person in a crowded mall. Her instincts led to the arrest of a man wanted internationally for whistleblowing government secrets. She never saw him again after that, but always felt like a piece of her was missing. It was like he was trying to tell her something that she wasn’t prepared to hear. She wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
There was a guard nearby, she asked permission to use the restroom, and received it. In the restroom, in the furthest open stall, stood the woman in an olive drab dress. Her eyes were deep and intimidating. She spoke plainly.
“We are all going to die. You know that the Lord Chancellor is evil. We have been watching you, we did the calculations, you are the only person who can stop this.” Innately, Sarah knew exactly what the stranger meant. The same people who raged against mindless groupthink before now embrace that method of behavior. The same people who told you not to trust the news or media now demand you only trust them. No nation should have ever been allowed to accumulate so much power and influence over humanity, let alone one man. Yet the same people who publicly claim to worship God are the same people who worship the Lord Chancellor as a God. The thought of it made Sarah’s skin crawl, but she had always ignored that until now. There was some kind of energy exchange happening. She felt empowered, but she just didn’t know what to do with that empowerment. Without words, they understood each other.
The mysterious woman said, “Give this to the Lord Chancellor as soon as you can,” and handed Sarah a Rolo chocolate. “Many people don’t know this, but the Lord Chancellor has a thing for these. The one on top is safe, the second one is not.”
“Is it poisoned?”
“Yes, and you must give it to him as soon as you see him, it will take a few minutes to start working. When he starts to vomit, people will be distracted. There will be a device in the back of the room called Pandora’s Miracle- the Artificial Intelligence that everyone is so fond of. It is also a house for the secret Artificial Intelligence protocol that secretly powers and controls the same public AI. It will glow blue and be next to the primary control panel for the launch. At the bottom of the roll is a QED. Place this QED on top of the device, and our algorithm will connect with it instantaneously and essentially make both the AIs forget they exist. The entire system will crumble, and more immediately, the launch that will destroy the world will never happen.”
“What do you mean, destroy the world?”
“We don’t have time to discuss this.” Footsteps approached the door, then a knock.
“Is everything ok in there?” The woman flushes the toilet. She whispers to Sarah, “Wash your hands, get some sleep, tomorrow, save the world.”
“Yes, I’m just having a woman’s emergency, I’ll be out soon.” Sarah washed her hands and opened the door. A goofy-faced, but serious-looking guard stood there.
“Sorry about that, ma’am. Is there anyone else in there with you?”
“ No, there isn’t. Now, is it your plan to keep embarrassing me, or can I go? I am a guest of the Lord Chancellor after all.” The guard’s eyes opened wide.
“Of course, my apologies, ma’am.” Sarah walked briskly to her room. She thought it was odd how at ease she was. Surprised, yet pleased, she showered, lay down in bed, and slept.
