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05:49 SUNDAY 29 OCTOBER 2079
It was ten years to the day since the Massacre of the Innocents, when Marcus Gallagher callously murdered thousands of Recarn children as a reprisal against a group of Recarn children who had stolen the capsule that incarcerated the soul of Adam Wieshaupt, the founder of the Illuminati. Marcus’s anger and vengeance that day led to an atrocity the like of which had never been witnessed previously, executing any Recarn between the ages of eight and ten years old, hoping to have trapped the guilty parties in his net. The incident had horrified the population and a massive outpouring of grief from both Recarns and non-Recarns led to demands for the day never to be forgotten. The day was assigned the status of a national day of remembrance, with humanitarian memorial services taking place all over the country.
The previous thirty-one months had been normal, if ‘normal’ means ongoing terrorist attacks from One Life. Sabotage and the occasional destruction of some elements of the ONP infrastructure were considered acceptable losses by the Illuminati. Simultaneous international attacks were frequent, a slight increase in terrorist activity was to be expected. The only way to remove the threat of rebellion was to completely destroy the rebels, leaving not one standing. But the Illuminati knew that this was an impossibility and, as long as no major confrontational onslaught occurred, they were happy to tolerate the inconvenience and casualties that One Life inflicted. The position and power of the Illuminati was still strong; One Life could try with all their might but the Organisation would survive with barely a scratch.
While individual Illuminati resources were kept busy repelling One Life attacks, back on the island hundreds of clones were being sacrificed to further the cause of Recarn PLM eradication. Stem cell donation was not a problem; One Life had a large number of Recarns in its ranks who were sympathetic to the cause and found their past life memories to be a burden rather than a gift. They were only too happy to donate if it meant that their curse would be lifted.
The city of Anchorage in Alaska, U.S.A. was renowned for having clear, clean, unpolluted water and had benefited from such high quality water for many decades, since the 1940s when the Anchorage Water and Wastewater Utility constructed a wood-stave water main to carry water to urban Anchorage. Nearby Eklutna Lake and Ship Creek had provided the city and the surrounding area of Chugiak-Eagle River, Peters Creek, Eklutna, and Girdwood with clean healthy water for over one hundred and fifty years. It was a benchmark for the water industry set against a backdrop of mountains, natural streams, and clean air.
It was a cruel irony that it became Ground Zero for the Final Solution. At 6 am local time, a group of shadowy figures arrived at the predesignated virus introduction sites. They carried with them fishing equipment but fishing was the last thing on their minds. Their tackle boxes contained not bait, spare rod components and snacks, but vials of the highly virulent strain of the FS2910 virus.
It was still dark - the sun wasn’t due to rise for another three and a half hours - but the sight of a couple of anglers heading to the lakeshore carrying a lightweight canoe above their heads wasn’t something that would have attracted attention. Peter Gibson, a local motor mechanic and his brother-in-law Richard Rodgers, a lawyer, settled the canoe on the surface of the water and climbed aboard. They paddled to the centre of the lake, the boat bobbing in the early morning breeze and Peter opened his cool box, took out the top tray that contained spare hooks, floats, a pair of pliers, a torch, and other sundry items that a fisherman might need and scanned the rows of vials that were tucked inside. Richard stroked the water gently with his paddle.
“Getting cold feet, Pete?”
“Nope. Just imagining that during the next twenty-four hours this scene is going to be reproduced thousands of times across the globe. There’s not a single waterway that’s gonna to be left uninfected anywhere. It’s a mammoth task.”
Richard took out two vials.
“And it goes against the grain to deliberately pollute such a place of natural beauty, but it’s gotta be done if we’re gonna stop them Recarns.”
He took the caps off the ampoules and gave a final once-over to the contents, a clear harmless looking liquid with no signs that the fluid harboured the microorganisms that would change mankind’s future and return the uniqueness and sanctity of life. Holding the vial horizontally over the water, but not allowing the contents to pour out, he looked at his brother-in-law.
“Ready? Shall we do a countdown?”
“I dunno about a countdown, but maybe we should say something profound, y’know, like Neil Armstrong when he first stepped on the moon’s surface.”
“I know just what to say.”
“Is it deep?”
“Hell yeah. It’s deep.”
“Go for it, bro.”
Richard tipped up the glass tubes and watched the liquid and its payload pour into the clear water of the lake. It would become a shimmering turquoise mirror later on but at the moment it was just a giant dark pool. Richard cleared his throat and uttered the immortal words.
“Fuck you Recarns.”