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19:03 Thursday 8 November 2091
Carole placed two wine glasses and a bottle of Chilean Merlot on the coffee table. There was no reason why they shouldn’t enjoy a glass of wine or two whilst deciding upon their next move. She fluffed up two white cushions and tucked them into the corners of the sofa. It was approaching 7:30 in the evening; Jethro should arrive any minute.
The monitor was turned off but the computer was only hibernating, ready for the journalists to analyse the information that they already had at their fingertips and to search the Deep Web for more information. She looked at the coffee table again; something was missing. She tutted to herself as she realised what it was, and went into the kitchen to fetch some breadsticks.
The doorbell rang and she walked briskly back into the living room, placing a tall tumbler full of breadsticks on the coffee table, alongside the bottle of wine. She checked the door security monitor. Jethro had arrived. She disengaged the security lock and the front door of her apartment clicked open. She went back into the kitchen to fetch some napkins.
“Come on in, Jethro. Make yourself at home.”
She exited the kitchen to see not only Jethro standing in the living room but also four other men. She looked nervously at her colleague.
“Who are your friends?”
One of the dark-suited men stepped forward.
“Carole Drummond?”
“I might be. Who’s asking?”
“My name is John Travis. I work for UN2.0 who – as you know – are the interim world government until elections can be held.”
“So what are you doing here?”
Carole didn’t like authority figures of any type, be they minor or major. She hadn’t made up her mind as to which of the two John Travis was. She was leaning towards minor.
“We need you to come with us, Miss Drummond.”
“Why? Am I under arrest?”
“No. But you do need to come with us. Somebody very important wants to have a conversation with you.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Not an option.”
“And Jethro?”
“Mr Harper is coming with us. In fact, we brought him here.”
“And I’m not under arrest?”
“You’re not under arrest.”
“And I won’t be arrested when we get to wherever you want to take us?”
“You won’t be arrested.”
Carole’s journalistic curiosity was piqued.
“Ok then. Take me to your leader.”
After a brief journey into West London, the rear doors of the limousine opened and Carole and Jethro were led from a secure loading deck through a maze of corridors until finally being ushered into a large room through an unmarked door. The room was furnished in the style of an Edwardian study, two burgundy leather sofas facing each other. On one of them sat a distinguished Asian gentleman. As Carole and Jethro entered the room, he stood up and proffered a hand. The two journalists accepted the man’s greeting.
“Carole, Jethro, may I use your first names?”
The two nodded in agreement.
“Of course.”
“You may be wondering why I asked you here.”
Carole pointed out that they weren’t asked as such but that it was more of a summons. The man apologised for the manner of the request. He continued.
“My name is Zafar Azad, and I am the Acting World President.”
Of course, the two journalists had recognised Zafar as soon as they had entered the room. If they hadn’t, they wouldn’t have been very good at their jobs. But Carole wanted – needed – some answers.
“So why are we here, Mr Azad?”
“Just Zafar, please. This morning you accessed some very sensitive information on the Dark Web, information to which you had no right. Not yet anyway.”
“You mean the fact that humanity isn’t reproducing, that people are dying and not being replaced. Yes, we discovered your little secret.”
“You would have been told – very shortly in fact – but now you know, there’s no point in putting things off.”
That sounded ominous. Jethro felt a little nervous. Were the two of them going to disappear? Zafar could see the worried look on Jethro’s face.
“Don’t worry, nothing’s going to happen to either of you. My predecessor would probably have had you killed, but that’s not my style. Actually, I need your help.”
Jethro felt much more relaxed now that he knew his life wasn’t in danger.
“So how can we help you?”
“What I’m about to tell you both is highly classified. You cannot tell anyone, not even your families. Do you understand?”
The two confirmed that they understood. They were hardly going to jeopardise the biggest scoop of their lives. Even if they couldn’t publish it.
“Good. I’ll fill you in on the details then. I imagine you both number a few Recarns amongst your family and friends?”
The journalists nodded.
“Well, in 2079, let’s call it a cure, a remedy was produced to remove Past Life Memories, PLMs, from Recarns. It wouldn’t harm or kill them, One Life didn’t want that. It just suppressed access to those PLMs. It was released as a virus on October 29th, 2079. It had no collateral effects whatsoever – or so we thought. It seemed the perfect solution. As the Illuminati and ONP Recarns died off, they would, of course, be reincarnated but not as Recarns. They’d be just like you and me.
“Anyway, the virus did have a collateral effect, an effect that we couldn’t have anticipated, not in a million years. The virus made human beings sterile. Both men and women. As I’m sure you understand, without replacing the human gene pool our species will become extinct. It’s simple logic. We are on a path to extinction. People have long since thought that we would die out due to nuclear war, an asteroid hitting the planet or a pandemic. It seems that it will be the last one and that, unfortunately, it will be due to a man-made pandemic.”
Carole had been half-expecting the pandemic explanation but was disappointed to learn that it was down to human intervention that mankind would die out.”
“How long have you known?”
“Quite a while, really. We have scientists working around the clock hunting for a cure but to no avail as yet. And we’re also working against the clock, as I’m sure you will appreciate. Once those that are living die – that’ll be it.”
“So we’re doomed?”
Zafar shuffled in his seat a little to make himself more comfortable. He decided to stand up to allow his limbs to loosen up.
“Not entirely. Did you notice anything else about the figures?”
Carole remembered something from that morning.
“You mean the fact that there were still a few births, despite the enormous decline? But surely there aren’t enough babies being born to make any difference?”
“Yes and no. As it is, these births are spread all over the world. If we can somehow get them all together or, at least, as many as possible, maybe we have a chance of saving humanity. Spread out like they are, there’s no chance.”
Jethro raised a finger in an attempt to attract attention.
“What about clones? Can’t we just use soul transference technology and use clones to host our souls?”
“Great on paper; unfortunately, wouldn’t work in practice. Clones are created sterile. They can’t reproduce autonomously.”
“It was just a thought.”
“And a valid one too. But sadly out of the question.”
Carole still wanted to know about the few births that were still happening.
“So, these people who are still able to have children. Who are they? What makes them special? How come they can still have children?”
“This is where it could get a little awkward. All these new children are Recarns, born to Recarns. And these Recarns still have PLMs. Past Life Memories. The pandemic passed them by. They’re immune.”
Those words needed a few seconds to sink in. Carole looked at Zafar and then Jethro who, in turn, looked at Zafar and then back at Carole. Jethro voiced exactly what Carole was thinking.
“So, if I’m reading this correctly, the only hope for the survival of humanity are the very people that have just spent a decade being rounded up, put in neutralisation camps, and systematically executed? That’s some fucked up irony.”
Zafar nodded.
“Fucked up irony indeed, but it’s the best hope humanity has. No matter what Garcia said, Recarns are still humans. In fact, they’re an upgrade.”
“So we regular humans will all die out and a handful of Recarns will inherit the Earth?”
“That’s about the size of it,”
Carole had a question.
“Why should they help us after what they went through?”
“Why should they indeed? The only reason can be survival. And spread across the planet they’re no good to anyone, least of all themselves. How can they reproduce if they stay apart from each other?”
“And the scientists are working on a cure?”
“Of course. We live in hope but the clock’s ticking.”
Jethro had been running things through his mind.
“So, let’s say you get them all together. How many do you reckon that is?”
“We know that of the world’s population, about 5% are Recarns. However, most of those have been made infertile by the virus. We reckon that there could be around two and a half million fertile Recarns. Two and a half million. Not a lot when you consider that, apart from them, the world will be empty of all human life in eighty or so years. Of course, there’s no way we’re going to be able to round up all two and a half million fertile Recarns. We’ll just have to gather up as many as we can.”
“What will you do with them?”
“We’ll put them all in the same place.”
“Where?”
“We’ve decided on New Zealand. It’s remote. It’s beautiful. It’s not crowded. I’d love to live there actually.”
“What if somebody doesn’t want to go? Will you force them to go?”
“We can’t force them. We believe in democracy. We want them to choose to go. We’re certain that when the circumstances are explained to them, the great majority will want to go to New Zealand.”
“What do the New Zealanders say about all this?”
“They’ve always been a reasonable, environmentally conscious nation. I’m hoping that they still are.”
Carole wondered why Zafar was telling them all this.
“So where do we fit in? Why are you telling us all this?”
“You are both highly respected journalists. People trust you. You have a reputation for honesty and saying it as it is. And you have colleagues around the world who share your profile. Do you remember that I promised elections in my original address to the citizens of the world? I aim to stand by that promise. I want complete transparency. I shall campaign on an honesty ticket. I shall put my plan to the people of the world. I want the people of the world to choose to save mankind, even though they themselves will almost certainly perish.”
“But isn’t that an enormous risk?”
“Of course. But humanity has the right to decide its own fate. The choices are clear. Extinction or survival. Either we pull together and ensure that our species continues, even in the form of Recarns, or we abandon the planet to the rest of the animal kingdom. I want humanity to survive, and I need you and your fellow journalists to help my campaign on the survival ticket.”
“Do you really think that people will agree to your plan? Don’t you think they’ll be selfish?”
“I hope that they will vote in a spirit of largesse. That they will think of these Recarns as the future and will vote accordingly. But we won’t know until Election Day.”