Extinction

5: The State of Affairs

5 The State of AffairsPresident Wells had come to power under a cloud of scandal. Vote-rigging, murder and blackmail were all on his increasingly less hidden agenda. As a multi-billionaire media and software tycoon, he had been ideally placed to arrange for the electronic vote casting system to be routed through his empire's vast computer networks. Hence, Wells had been voted in as the head of the ruling Eurostate Government by a landslide majority and his company, Medware IT, went from strength to strength with Eurostate contracts.

Europe, now under one banner and one leader since 2090, was the most powerful state in the world. Borders were long forgotten; English was now a common language, if a little broken in places. A common goal had been decided upon between the men of Europe, who were born of a tyrannical male ethos that drove them to unite and dominate what had previously been a second-rate and splintered continent. The USA and the Far East, for the most part, had shunned the fanatical wave of male dominance that had prevailed in Europe, choosing to breed livestock of both sexes equally. For this reason they were perceived as weak and untrustworthy by the ruling Eurostate party. The Eurostate politicians were sure that the female terrorists, or Femorists as they were known, who operated in their continent, were funded and supplied to a large extent by a sympathetic American population. Diplomatic relations between the two continents were at an all-time low and war seemed a distinct possibility. The Far East however, did everything possible to avoid being drawn into a pointless conflict.

The Eurostate had grown all-powerful, initially on welfare cuts made possible by the new breeding programmes. When the second-generation of cloned livestock reached their twilight years, normal family groups had died out almost completely. Those families who had survived to see the transformation in society were interned and then erased from history. Thus, state benefits paid out, or not, to be more specific, saved billions of Euros. There were no single parent families, no divorce courts with legal aid bills. Gone were the days of unemployment, for the state controlled the breeding programme to meet exactly their manpower needs. Everybody had a job to do and for the most part they were stuck for the rest of their unnatural life with what they had been specifically bred for. Nobody retired; a biological clock inbred into all livestock meant that they ceased to function long before they were physically worn out. Any livestock that malfunctioned during its predetermined lifetime was disposed of without hesitation or argument. State pensions no longer had to be provided, nor child benefit, expensive vaccination programmes or free child health and dental care. There were no schools to fund and finally traffic gridlocks had been eased through the complete lack of mothers having to run their spoilt brats around to and from school. The welfare system had completely disappeared, because there were no customers left and state funds grew beyond all imagination. The Eurostate had been able to invest heavily in advanced technology for the breeding of new livestock and was far in advance of any other state in the world. The livestock was grown at an accelerated rate; from cloned egg to a fully trained indoctrinated man took around two weeks. The manufactured man was then ready to perform his role in life in the capacity for which he had been reared. Recently however, Eurostate scientists had developed an extraordinary strain of livestock. The new breed was superior in strength, intelligence and exhibited limited forms of psychic power. They were able to communicate with fellow livestock of the same breeding strain and, it appeared, with no one else. The psychic powers had come about by pure chance, whereas the other enhancements were made possible by altering the genes that made up the MkII livestock’s DNA string. Only one prototype of this improved livestock had ever been brought to full term, or so everybody believed, and currently it was incarcerated under evaluation. A flask of fertilised MkII eggs had been prepared for production purposes and had then been stored, ready and waiting for endorsement of the prototype. Once the lead scientists working on the project had given approval, the 16,000 fertilised eggs were to be brought to full term and unleashed on the unsuspecting Femorists.

President Wells swiped the beads of perspiration from his forehead but the persistent sweat still ran down into his tired dark brown eyes. His voice was still calm and assured as before, but his body language conveyed that he was not at ease. His small athletic frame did not seem to match the round flabby face and greying hair. Wells finally held eye contact with Kellor and began to furnish him with the exact details of the ‘critical situation’ that had been mentioned just a few moments before.

‘Major Kellor, last night at 02:00 hours this breeding institute was attacked by Femorists conspiring to bring the very fabric of our civilisation to its knees. They must be stopped at all costs,’

President Wells was breathing heavily and looked like a man under severe strain. Still he continued in his calm and assured manner, ‘During the course of the attack a large quantity of fertilized eggs was taken from the cryo-womb centre.’

Kellor knew all of this - he had seen it for himself - but he dare not interject. The President now sat down at one of the plastic covered canteen tables and gestured to the Major to do the same.

‘We know for a fact that somewhere in the region of one hundred flasks of eggs was taken. That equates to around eighty thousand fertilized eggs, give or take a few. Unfortunately, one of the cryogenic chambers that was raided contained eggs of a very special nature,’ Wells continued.

Until now Kellor had been only half listening to the tedious facts, of which he was already aware, but now his attention sharpened and focused.

‘Now Major Kellor, the following information I am about to impart is strictly for your ears only. Under no circumstances must it be repeated to anyone - and that would include your mother if you had one,’

Kellor smiled at the President’s antiquated expression. He had not heard it for a long time - it seemed that only older men used it because they had been thoroughly educated in historical reproduction and parenting. However, education in this area had long since been forbidden, because the ruling party felt that to continue would risk undermining - or rather might reactivate - the hearts and minds of a new generation of livestock. President Wells leant forward, placed both elbows on the table and brought his clasped hands to his chin. His eyes narrowed as he continued with his simulated broadcast.

‘The twenty of the flasks that came from this chamber, which equates to around 16,000 eggs, are quite unique. A small team of genetic scientists working in isolation and in secret at this very institute had developed those enhanced eggs. They are the only ones of their kind in existence and would have...’ President Wells stopped and rephrased his last statement, ‘And will give the Eurostate the edge in our battle against the Femorists.’

Kellor could contain his questions no longer and interjected without another thought for the consequences.

‘What’s so special about this batch of eggs exactly?’

‘Well, let’s just say they have enhanced physical and intellectual capabilities, but I will leave the exact details to Professor Chenenko,’ replied Wells, raising his eyes casually in the Professor’s general direction.

Kellor looked up at the Professor and then returned his gaze sharply to the President.

‘So, what you are saying is that you are not interested in the ordinary eggs that were stolen. It’s just the enhanced batch you want retrieved?’

‘Retrieved or destroyed. But you’re right; I care less about the ordinary eggs than for the welfare of the Femorists that perpetrated this despicable act. If you manage to retrieve all of the flasks then you will be doing the State a great service, beyond the call of duty some would say. At the very least as I said before, the special batch of eggs must be destroyed and I emphasize the MUST!’ replied Wells as he stood up and peered down at Kellor, who disrespectfully remained seated.

‘Now, if you’ll excuse me Major, unfortunately I have to return to report to the State Council in Berlin, but Daniels and Professor Chenenko will provide you with the rest of the details. Good luck and, if you are successful, I am sure you will find that the benefits will make the effort worthwhile,’ said Wells as he turned to speak to Daniels.

‘Right. I should have been long gone by now. Take it from here Daniels and anything Major Kellor requires, provide it, post haste,’

With his last statement the President swirled around and walked briskly towards the exit. His trailing hand grabbed a long black leather overcoat from an unused chair. He swung the coat around his bony shoulders, crashed through the swinging doors and was gone. The remaining men glanced at each other while the doors swung rapidly back and forth in the background.

‘Let’s get on shall we. Professor, if you‘d take us to the prototype nursery - while we walk I can acquaint Major Kellor with the finer details of our situation,’ said Daniels as his domineering side resurfaced with the president’s absence.

‘Okay, but I’m afraid we will have to get there via the farm grounds. The lab leading to the nursery is inaccessible to say the least,’ Professor Chenenko replied.

The three men left the building; Daniels walked next to the Major with the Professor taking the lead. Outside, the scene had changed dramatically from that when they had all first arrived. Kellor looked at his watch; it was now 07:45 and the morning had dawned splendidly. Though still cold, the day was very bright indeed and the rubble around them, the ruins randomly interspersed with apparently untouched buildings, looked far less sinister in the daylight.

‘Let me continue Major,’ said Daniels as they walked on past the homogeneous groups of workers robotically clearing up the surrounding mess.

‘These special eggs: they produce mature livestock that’s faster, stronger and more intelligent than you. They’ve been produced with gene modifications to give twice the Special Forces’ aggression level. Hell, they could walk through brick walls if so ordered,’ enthused Daniels.

They began to walk down a steep grassy embankment, damp from the morning dew, and in between trying not to slip in his beautiful Italian antique leather shoes and vainly attempting not to get them wet, Daniels resumed his briefing.

‘We were just about to embark on a massive breeding programme of this new strain of livestock. In fact, we were just waiting for Professor Blaine, who was lead scientist on the project, to give the all clear with the prototype. As you can imagine, with genetic weapons such as these we have to be very careful that they are fully functional and disciplined before we release them into service. We wouldn’t want them turned against us now would we!’

Just as he finished his sentence, he lost his footing and weakly grabbed Kellor’s arm to avoid any possibility of him crashing to the ground.

‘Sorry. Thanks. I mean… Well anyway,’ Daniels said uncomfortably as he struggled to regain his composure. He did not like to rely on anyone or anything and to be shown up in such a manner was almost his worst nightmare.

‘Picture if you will a 16,000 strong army made up of this enhanced livestock on the march, incubated and indoctrinated with Femorist allegiance! It could spell the end of the male gender forever; at the very least the end of male domination,’ he paused, ‘Oh and I forgot to mention, the MkII livestock seem to have some psychic ability as well, but only between other livestock of the same strain,’ Daniels added nonchalantly as if he were describing an optional extra on a new car.

The three men were now fast approaching the specialist research centre where the prototype nursery was located. Standing silently in front of a pile of charred, blackened rubble, they could just make out a secure route through to a smoke-tarnished steel door, which was clearly visible at the back of what had been the research lab. Eventually, the three contrasting men concluded their silent assessment and looked at each other for reassurance.

‘Why don’t you just rear another batch of MkIIs to cancel out the ones that we’ve lost?’ Kellor asked, confused, while delaying their foray into the bombsite.

‘It’s not as easy as that. Apart from the devastation that such a large conflict would undoubtedly cause – don’t forget we’re effectively talking about an army of supermen - it may be, er, a little while before we are able to produce any more of them,’ Daniels replied in a mildly embarrassed manner.

‘Why the delay?’ Kellor asked, not wanting to let Daniels hide his thoughts so easily.

‘Unfortunately, it seems that the development of the MkII had been done completely in isolation in this very laboratory and all information relating to the project was kept in this room that you see before you. And last night a series of unfortunate coincidences meant that the whole of the development team were in the room when the Femorists attacked – every last one of ‘em! Usually at that time of the morning the lab would be closed down for the night, but they were just about to complete the last phase of the prototype MkII’s education and training. The project staff that weren’t killed in the blast were burnt to death in the ensuing fire. The records and technical data relating to the project were either stolen or destroyed; so far we’ve no way of knowing which. So, all things considered, it’s been a monumental disaster. All we know is that the whole project went up in smoke last night and the eggs are the only things, apart from the prototype, that remain intact.’

‘How did the prototype survive the attack?’ Kellor asked, as he looked between Daniels and the Professor for his answer. The Professor was the first to reply.

‘The room where it’s receiving the condensed data and image input is behind that Kevanium door back there. Luckily, because of the enhanced features of the MkII prototype, we decided that a stronghold room would be the safest place for it till it had been thoroughly tested and trained – there’s no way even that thing could break out. And of course, the room was strong enough to withstand the blast and the fire. It’s also powered and air conditioned completely independently from the rest of the complex, so we could be sure the equipment wouldn’t crash during the condensed data and image input whatever happened elsewhere in the farm. As you’re probably aware, we’ve had some difficulties with livestock that have had interruptions during this final stage of their indoctrination. Consequently, they have to be taken out of service because of emotional and mental problems that have manifested themselves later in life,’

Meanwhile, Daniels began to move cautiously through the shattered building. He beckoned Kellor to follow and he did so, with the Professor taking up the rear.

‘Now, in there is the new MkII prototype, but we’re not sure how ready it is. It would seem that programming had completed its full cycle – but we’re not a hundred percent. Unfortunately, without any records or staff to confirm this Major you will have to be very, very careful with it.’

While Daniels finished his sentence he wiped a fist-sized patch of black smoke dust from the six-inch thick window that looked in upon the MkII’s secure room. He used his white silk handkerchief and Kellor noticed the initials delicately stitched into the material: ‘C.A.D’.

‘Hold on one moment, my brief is not to act as mentor for this MkII but to retrieve the enhanced eggs. I really don’t think it is...’ Kellor verbally exploded, astounded that he was going to have to baby-sit this MkII.

‘This is not up for negotiation Major Kellor. You will take this MkII and use it to retrieve those eggs, period. Now if you wish you may take a look inside. Then I want you to return to the canteen and provide me with a complete list of the equipment that you need to accomplish this mission,’ Daniels said, cutting Kellor dead in mid-sentence.

Rebuked, Kellor moved closer to the window and his rapid angry breath misted the thick glass. Despite the pounding of blood in his temples, he managed to control his breathing. The moisture on the glass dissipated and he finally managed to focus on the impassive MkII that lay within the darkened strong room. Eventually, the creature’s form became apparent, just discernible in the gloom, and Kellor’s jaw plunged into a bewildered gape.

Marching purposefully through the doors to the canteen, closely followed by Daniels, Kellor was unable to hide his increasing resentment and violently kicked the chairs and tables from his path with his hefty size tens. The once-highly polished combat boots were no longer shiny; mud had worked its way up from the sole during their little excursion and the impact with the chairs and tables had covered the polished surface with streaks of brown dirt. Finally, reaching the area of the canteen where the maps of the surrounding region stood, he turned fiercely as Daniels calmly approached.

‘Now, before you say anything you may regret Major Kellor I’d consider your position very carefully. You may think that you have no need for this cross breed, MkII or whatever you may want to call it but, it’s as good as any weapon we have in our armoury right now and will give you the edge when dealing with these Femorists,’ Daniels stated, clearly brooking no argument.

Kellor glared more intently now and for a time forgot with whom exactly it was that he was dealing.

‘That f*****g cross breed or abomination, whatever YOU want to call it, is a time bomb waiting to go off! You don’t even know if it’s ready for combat. What if she turns out for the opposition team instead, just when I’m ready for the kill. No, you have no authority over me, I take orders from one man only and that’s not you!’

Daniels smirked. He was surprisingly unconcerned by Kellor’s outburst and turned to his laptop, which sat on the table next to him. After punching in various numbers, the words ‘uplink established’, followed by the flashing word ‘Connecting’ blazed upon the computer display. A few seconds later, the original screen was replaced with the benign-looking face of Colonel Martin Johnson. Johnson was a military veteran: early forties, blonde hair and baby blues. In fact he had everything needed to be the archetypal Californian surfing god, except he was not from California and had no surfing ability whatsoever. Daniels grinned and began to look directly into Kellor’s eyes as he conversed with the Colonel.

‘Martin, how the devil are you?’ he asked like an old friend, which he most definitely was not.

‘Fine Callum, what can I do for you?’ replied the submissive Colonel.

Kellor got that sinking feeling as his thoughts entered panic mode. The bastard had called his Commanding Officer and he knew the outcome was not going to be to his satisfaction. Kellor began to feel Daniels’ grip over him tightening.

‘Martin, I have one of your fine young officers here - a certain Major Kellor. Anyway, to cut a long story short, we just need a bit of clarification about the lines of authority concerning the situation here in Stablinka. Now, Major Kellor would like your approval for him to take his orders directly from me; you don’t have a problem with that now? Do you Martin?’

‘No, no. Not at all Callum, do as you see fit. All I would ask is for a quick word with Major Kellor before you assume authority. If there’s nothing else you need Callum?’

Kellor moved into the view of the laptop camera without daring to return Daniels’ constant stare. He knew the Colonel well and was convinced that he would not have sold him out to the politicians without good reason. Observing the Colonel carefully as he spoke, Kellor sensed the unease in his Commanding Officer’s demeanour.

‘Ah, there you are Major, I trust everything’s fine your end?’

Kellor knew something was amiss and he began to focus on calming his furious body. The Colonel was a man he could trust, he was sure of that, so he would have to go along with whatever the Colonel had in mind.

‘Yes Colonel, I’m okay. But we have a situation here,’ Kellor advised before the Colonel interrupted.

‘Yes Major, I fully understand the situation there, but I have full confidence in Mr Daniels to direct you in a manner conducive to rectifying this situation. I would remind you of the Greenland siege that we served on together and ask you to employ some of the tactics and application that you used to resolve that situation. That’s an order Major. Well, must be going now. We have a situation here as well, lunch. Good luck chaps!’

Without delay, the Colonel’s image was replaced with the 3-D Eurostate logo revolving around the otherwise empty screen.

Silent deliberate looks passed between Daniels and Kellor, both now believing that they were in control of the personal battle between them.