The Long Winter Time
by Quintin Snell
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Table of Contents parts: 1, 2, 3 4 |
conclusion
Shet gave himself a week to settle into his new life and get accustomed to the marvels of this world, then got to the real work. He needed to contact and meet Mr. Pritchard and convince him to build the Bunker.
He bought himself a laptop computer and powered it up. After consulting the notes Genset had given him, and much frustrating head scratching, he logged onto a website. It was a conspiracy website on which Mr. Pritchard was extremely active.
This site’s main focus was Doomsday, from nuclear fusion to global warming, Mars missions to alien invasions, it was all discussed vigorously there. Each new discovery was prophesied to bring about the end of the world.
Shet looked at all of this knowing it was all so much nonsense. The only theory that came anywhere close was global warming, but they had the source wrong. Plus, the Earth only heated up until the clouds of ash blotted out the sun, then everything froze.
He needed to build his credibility in the online community so that when he approached Mr. Pritchard, he would be taken seriously. He created a profile, then began making his presence known. He commented on many of the theories, pointing out flaws and inconsistencies, sometimes agreeing with points. Other times he suggested theories of his own, engaging in the often heated debates that followed. He became a well recognised personality on the site.
He joined social media and friended a number of the site members, including Mr. Pritchard. Their personal exchanges became more frequent until one day, Mr. Pritchard suggest they meet in person. Mr. Pritchard suggested an upmarket restaurant in town. Mr. Pritchard had booked a table, so Shet would know who to look for. While he went through the motions, Shet would have recognised the businessman from the file Genset had given him.
They made their introductions; Mr Pritchard told Shet his first name was Karl. They exchanged pleasantries, the usual small talk, then moved on to discussing their favourite conspiracy theories. Over the course of the meal, they developed a mutual respect and a tentative friendship. Mr. Pritchard was fascinated by the intelligence of a man who worked as a labourer at a nursery.
“How do you know all these things, yet work as a gardener?” he asked, genuinely interested.
“I love working with living things. Where I’m from, it is always snowing. Nothing grows there, unless it’s in a pot. Our settlement is isolated, so we had to fend for ourselves. We had to maintain our equipment; if something broke, there was nobody to fix it but ourselves. I had a mentor who taught me engineering and chemistry. More importantly, he taught me to think.”
Shet had decided to keep his cover story as close to the truth as possible. It was easier to keep his story straight that way. He basically substituted “the future” with “Alaska” to explain his unusual accent and lack of formal qualifications.
They concluded a long lunch, settled the bill and bade each other farewell, promising to keep in touch regularly. Although he lived in another city, Mr. Pritchard had enough business in town to commute regularly.
* * *
One morning, whilst eating his cereal, Shet read a newspaper article. Astronomers had discovered a new comet. They predicted it would pass fairly close to the Earth in a little under 15 years. After the initial concern that it might impact Earth, they assured the world there was no cause for alarm. “Fairly close” in astral terms would mean about five times the distance from the Earth to the Moon. In 15 years, people could expect some unusually high seas and an Aurora Borealis display which would be visible everywhere. Papers were produced proving their assertions and everyone was satisfied.
Except for Shet. He knew the truth.
After a short flurry of excitement, almost everyone forgot all about the comet. At this time it was still so far away that only the most powerful telescopes could pick it up.
This was what Shet had been waiting for. He posted a new conspiracy on the website, based on the comet.
“What if the astronomers and scientists are wrong?” he postulated. He then went on to post his own evidence. Figures and diagrams showing how, when the comet passed Venus, the planet’s gravity would affect its trajectory. It would pass by the Moon, which would alter its trajectory even more, heading it directly towards Earth.
He continued to say, worst case scenario, that the comet would impact with Earth, in which case, there was no hope for the planet, and any preparations would be irrelevant. Best case scenario: left unchecked, the comet would fragment on entering the atmosphere, much burning away, but there would still be enough of an impact to have a similar effect as a global nuclear war, obliterating everything on the planet and plunging the Earth into a long, unnatural winter.
Shet then posted potential solutions, a missile defence system, utilising the world’s current nuclear arsenal, firing them into space to destroy the comet before it arrived, as well as a series of underground bunkers which could house much of the world’s population, keeping them safe until the surface was habitable again.
His posts had the desired effect. The debates raged on for weeks. Scientists and astronomers debunked his theory, with “irrefutable” proof as to why it was nothing more than conspiracy and scare-mongering. His missile defence idea was immediately thrown out as the most outrageous fiction.
However, Mr. Pritchard phoned him. “Do you really believe this, or are you just feeding the conspiracy mill?”
“I really do, with all my heart,” Shet told him. They got together, and Shet showed and explained all his data. Whilst not convinced, Mr. Pritchard saw the possibility that Shet was right. He used his considerable resources to assemble a team to study the comet. In time, this team had to concede that Shet’s figures could be correct. It was possible that the comet could be affected by Venus, although not very likely.
It was enough for Mr. Pritchard though. The next time they met, he asked what they could do. Shet showed him the schematics for a bunker that could be built into the hill overlooking the town. The company that owned the mine was bankrupt and the land was on auction. Being a depleted mine, it would be relatively inexpensive and ideal for their purposes. Construction could begin immediately with minimal red tape involved.
Shet said he would hand over all schematics on two conditions: When it was publicly announced the comet would brush the Earth’s atmosphere, the existence of the Bunker would also be made public knowledge. All that sought refuge were to be welcomed, free of charge.
The second condition: Shet would be in charge of designing and building the generator room and all associated equipment, and on completion of Bunker, would have exclusive use of the entire space. When the time came, he would choose and train a suitable replacement.
Mr. Pritchard agreed to his friend’s demands. “There’s more to you than just being a simple gardener. I don’t think you’re a home-schooled engineer from some backwater in Alaska. You’re far too educated for that. You know too much; You knew this comet was coming. I don’t know who you really are, but I do know this: you specifically sought me out to finance this project. We all have our secrets, and I won’t pry into yours. The only important thing is that I believe you, and this needs to happen, with no time to waste.”
Bureaucratic wheels were greased, bribes paid, land was bought, plans drawn up and construction crews hired. Construction began. Shet began his task of overseeing the constructions from behind the scenes, and as promised, had complete control over what happened in the generator plant.
* * *
Seven years later, construction was coming on well. The basic structure of the Bunker was complete. It was time to install all the machinery and make it habitable. A follow-up story on the comet had been released. The comet would be pulled off its current path by Venus and pass between the Earth and the Moon.
There was a resurgence of interest in Shet’s claims, seeing as he had actually predicted the Venus interference. As before, the men of science assured the world there was absolutely no danger but did announce that, in seven years time, some fragments would enter the atmosphere and burn up, resulting in a spectacular natural fireworks display. They followed up with facts and figures, famous people talking on television, discussing how exciting this would all be, something to tell the grandchildren about.
Governments did actually look into countermeasures, but, when being advised by all the brightest, most qualified scientists on the planet that it was a waste of time, money and resources, preparing for an event that was completely impossible, the matter was dropped.
The following day, Mr. Pritchard ended his business career. He held a press conference, stating that there was, indeed, a lot to be worried about. The approaching comet was an extinction-level event, worse than the one that wiped out the dinosaurs. People needed to make their preparations. He was in the process of building a Bunker that would keep everyone safe during the coming impact and subsequent global winter. All who wanted to enter would be welcomed, irrespective of race, creed or nationality. They would be charged nothing, no donations, no rent, no financial contributions.
If the comet failed to destroy the world, the project would be abandoned, the doors would be opened, and everyone could simply resume their lives as before. If, however, the comet did impact, everyone sealed within Bunker would have to work. The bunker would be a community, everyone doing their share to ensure the survival of all.
Mr. Pritchard was immediately discredited. He became the laughingstock of the scientific community. Very few people took him seriously. Most of his businesses had been sold to finance Bunker, and those still operating soon folded. He wasn’t bothered though; Bunker was already paid for, and he so strongly believed in this cause that he was no longer interested in money.
Of the people that did take him seriously, among them his scientific team, were enough of the specialised people they would need: doctors, teachers, farmers and mechanics. Four thousand people responded to the press release, booking their places. Some genuinely believed, others were merely in it for fun or needing a place to live, others to prove him wrong.
Over the next seven years, Bunker was completed, stocked and made ready. People started moving in. As promised, people from all walks of life were admitted; a beggar was as welcome as a billionaire.
Shet made his own preparations: fuel, batteries and other supplies. Although there was some geothermal energy available, it was not enough to power the entire Bunker. He needed to be able to run all the generators while it was too dark outside to use the solar panels. He started assembling the time machine, a task that would keep him busy for the next 20 years. He made sure to keep detailed notes in his journals, he would need to give these to himself in a hundred years’ time.
He collected as comprehensive a library as possible. Not only would he need it but, one day, so would the community, to rebuild once they could leave Bunker. He gathered all these things together and vacuum-sealed the books to protect them from the ravages of time.
Eventually, the comet was close enough to be seen with the naked eye. Each day it grew in size, until it hung in the sky like a second Moon. Mr. Pritchard held another press conference, begging people to realise the grave danger this comet represented. Again he was rebuffed, this time as a doomsday cult leader. A small trickle of newcomers arrived, many homeless, enticed by the promise of a free bed and a meal.
At last, all those who were registered had moved in and settled. A few of the more well-to-do decided that they deserved better accommodation than commoners. On being informed that in Bunker, all were equal, and would be living and working as such, a fair number of them left. They were free to go.
On The Day the Sky Burned, Mr. Pritchard, now Bunker’s first mayor, and Shet, wearing his clean suit, sealed the great door. Shet disconnected Bunker from the outside world, Electricity, water, air, Bunker was now completely self-sustaining. There was a brief flicker of the lights as the generators took the load.
Everyone gathered in the Atrium to watch the Earth’s final moments on the huge screen mounted on the one wall. There were multiple news feeds displayed as well as one from the camera mounted above the outer door.
Shet, Mayor Pritchard and all the other inhabitants watched in horror as the fist-shaped comet penetrated the atmosphere. It split apart with five sections separating from the main. All six sections blazed across the sky leaving plumes of green and blue flame behind them. Then the atmosphere caught alight. Pillowing clouds of fire, spectacular in their destructive fury, enveloped everything. There was short-lived pandemonium on the screen, people fleeing, screaming, on fire. Then, mercifully, one by one, the pictures winked out, replaced with static as the cameras themselves burned.
Bunker was still as a tomb. Everyone stood, immobilised by the shock of what they had just witnessed. It was all true. Everything was gone. The world was dead.
* * *
Slowly but surely, in stunned silence, people trudged off to their allocated homes or places of work. What everyone would need now was stability, a sense of purpose. It was up to the new mayor to provide that stability. He knew he would need to get a routine going as soon as possible. After allowing enough time to let people adjust to their new reality, he called a meeting and got everyone busy with their assigned tasks.
Everyone had a job to do, depending on their personal abilities, even if it was merely watering plants. Shet headed off to his own domain, the gen-set, where he got to work himself, preparing for the day 100 years in the future, when he would send himself back in time.
Future Shet, knowing his work was done, shucked his now unneeded clean suit along with his Genset persona. He went to a locker, and opened it, pulling out a mannikin. He dressed the doll in the clean suit, which in turn got wrapped in blankets. Shet emerged from the power room, announcing that Genset had died of old age, and he, Shet, would take over as custodian of Genset’s duties. Nobody questioned this; in their community, an apprentice’s last duty as trainee was to prepare their mentor’s body for cremation.
The inhabitants of Bunker held a funeral. Words were said and “Genset” was burned on a funeral pyre, returning to The Ash. A single beam of sunlight, breaking through the cloud cover, brightened the hearts of those assembled. Humanity had made it through the long winter time. It was time to rebuild.
Copyright © 2023 by Quintin Snell
