Desolation

“Thanks, Reynolds. I’ll deliver the message.” Resting the freshly lit cigar on his polished stainless-steel ashtray, a gift from one of his many mistresses, Westerling popped out of his chair. Its butter-soft arms released their squeaky embrace. He stood, then straightened his tie and buttoned his jacket while walking across his vast office. Past his desk, he stopped in front of the giant floor-to-ceiling, forty-five-degree angled windows that were his office walls; like the control tower of an airport, he could see everything. Looking down, through the glass, to a street polished and marble-like, he took note of the several hundred men and women who looked up at him, seemingly at attention.

He beamed a smile, one practiced from thirty years of politics, to the expectant faces below. They were all there because of him and soon, they would be thanking him for their very lives. His pride was far greater than when they completed all the construction last month. It was now time.

“Greetings, men and women of Bios-2,” he belted over a wireless microphone connected to the entire city’s loudspeakers. “What started out as a dream for me, twelve years ago, has become a reality.” His voice echoed off the smooth surfaces of the buildings and ceiling. “Many of you were here at the beginning, and some of you just joined us. But, we are all part of one family now.”

He lowered the microphone from his mouth, dropping his head to appear pensive, and then slowly lifted it and the mike. “And now, I have news.” Again he paused for effect. Looking at the eager faces, now full of concern, his eyes started to well with tears. This was something he had learned to do during debates.

“It has been announced that a giant X45 solar flare is about to hit the earth, and along with it a massive CME, which should strike sometime tomorrow morning. You know what this means. It is the earth-killer our scientists have been predicting for years, and one of the reasons why we built this place so quickly.” The next part of the speech he had practiced, knowing what the reaction would be, but it was necessary. The din of worried conversations could be heard even through the thick bullet-proof glass of his office walls.

“I know many of you have left family and friends behind to be here. I also know that you will want to warn them in one of your daily phone calls. I’m afraid we just cannot allow this, which is why there will be no further communication with the outside world until tomorrow. As you know, after tomorrow, it won’t matter.”

He held up his hands, a visualization of his desire to quiet their disturbance. “I know. I know this may seem unfair, but because of what we are doing here, and to protect us from the outside world, we have to cease communications. If the world knew what we have here, they would all come and try to take it, and we cannot allow that. This place and its purpose are not known by anyone, except us. And after tomorrow, this one fact will save our lives.”

His puffery knew no boundaries. It didn’t matter who or how many people came to their impenetrable city walls, anyone attempting entry would be burned down in their tracks. That is unless they were one of the scientists who thought this was Cicada.

All his skills from his years in politics couldn’t hold back the curls of a smile that formed on his lips.

Next in the Stone Age Saga CICADA

(Book #3 of the Stone Age Series)

Coming spring 2015

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Thanks and Acknowledgments