Remove ads

Lest the World Perish: A Timeline of the Near-Apocalypse

Reader mode
For reference, the year being 1984 was complete coincidence. I just decided that Lin was a sophomore in university during the June 6th incident and that he would be 14 when this prologue section happened, and worked backwards from there. Once I realized the year, I couldn't help but slip in a reference.
 
Remove ads
Prologue - Part 3
  • Threadmarks
    • September 7, 1991
    Novosibirsk, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics

    The world was out of order. Everyone in the city knew it, sensing the doom that was steadily approaching. Emil Ilyich Shabayev anxiously stared out the window of the Trabant as the airport approached. His father had purchased this car only three years prior, after the government had opened up automobile imports. It seemed he had a sense of where the winds were blowing.

    A year ago, Russia had all but declared war on the Soviet Union. Its leader, the newly-elected Boris Yeltsin, was determined to carve out an independent, capitalist Russian nation out of the now increasingly inaccurate "Russian Federative Socialist Republic," and the Party was helpless to stop him. Two weeks ago, whatever hope of preserving the Soviet Union had been dashed by, ironically enough, an attempted coup by certain conservative party members and their allies in the military. Only days after it had been thwarted, Ukraine and Belarus (two of the Union's original founders) ratified declarations of independence. The end was nigh.

    To some, this change heralded a new birth of freedom, but to Emil, it only brought fear. Both his parents were full-time researchers at the Novosibirsk State University. When the government that funded them collapsed, would the new Russia continue? Would the new capitalists cut their salaries, or even lay them off? Emil had all the reason to fear the worst. Just today, he had seen multiple breadlines as their car passed through the city - a result of the economic chaos that suddenly transitioning to a market economy was inflicting. He had never witnessed disruptions of nearly the same magnitude in his childhood. Were these temporary growing pains, or only the herald of something far worse?

    He was lucky that he would not have to live through it. The car parked by the airport, and Emil exited with his parents. He had won his golden ticket: admission to the sociology program at King's College in London and in this, he was not alone. Many of his peers in secondary school had applied to Western universities when they got the chance. They would leave this sinking ship of a country and start anew in the lands of opportunity.

    Emil turned away from the doors of the airport, facing his parents. A pang of anguish shot through him as tears began streaming down his face. This was it. He was leaving everything and everyone he knew to become a stranger in a strange land. He did not know if he would ever return to Russia. Seeing him crying, his mother and father both pulled him into a tight hug, their arms doing little to comfort him despite their best efforts. A few seconds later, Emil felt the hand of his mother, Elena, touch his jaw and pull his face to stare at hers. He saw that, despite her best efforts to wipe them off, there were tears on her face too.

    "My son..."

    His mother's voice cracked.

    "...I just wanted you to know not to worry about us. We have friends. It's you that you need to concern yourself with. Make the most of this journey, Emil. I know you'll find a better life back in the West, and maybe, once things settle down here, you could return."

    She gave him one last hug.

    "Now go. Your flight won't wait for you."

    With hesitation, Emil stepped away from his parents, then turned towards the airport. His fate was in his hands now. He began walking towards the doors, ready to start his new life.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Sorry for this taking so long to finish. The part about young Shabayev hit really close to home for me and was hard to write, even though I still stay with my parents every weekend and during vacations.
     
    Teaser: Fulfilment
  • Threadmarks
    • July 7, 2022
    Trenton, New Jersey

    It was morning in America, but Rosemary "Rose" Strider wasn't in a radiant mood. On the contrary, what filled her mind was growing impatience. She had camped out for hours near the bridge that led to the Amazon warehouse - the bridge that was now entirely blocked off by angry protestors. On this day, the employees who worked at the warehouse had done the unthinkable: go on strike. It was the culmination of more than a month of misery.

    Last May, the last legs supporting the global economy had given way. For more than a year, the intricate supply chains that the modern world depended upon had grown less and less reliable. Both parts for the factories and consumer goods that could be depended upon to arrive in a few weeks now might not arrive for months. Empty store shelves had become a common sight, and prices had risen to reflect the supply shock. However, many had still hoped for an eventual recovery - until news from China shattered whatever confidence remained. It turned out that much of the non-state Chinese financial system was insolvent, and many Chinese enterprises that America depended upon were in dire straits. A week after the so-called "Jie Report" came out, the Dow and Nasdaq had nosedived, just like in 2008. On the way to the bridge, Rose had passed by a street of shuttered stores and more than one homeless person. It was a sign that the fabled "normality" the country desparately sought may not return for years.

    "Fortunately," Rose's livelihood depended upon abnormality. As an investigative journalist working for the American Herald, a small independent outfit operating out of Brooklyn, it was her job to seek out chaos, immiseration, and America's seedy underbelly. This unexpectedly vigilant strike was the perfect scoop. A group of employees at one of the most infamously exploitative corporations in America, forced to work overtime in order to desperately salvage what were left of the supply chains that fed the voracious and insatiable American consumer but finding themselves able to take it no longer. Now, she was here to document their struggles.

    She also was sure that Trenton's heavily militarized police was inbound. After all, allowing Amazon's operations to remain hindered was unacceptable to the authorities. The treats must flow, no matter how many workers must be ground under Bezos' heels. She, for one, could not afford to miss the fireworks.

    Rose fumbled with her control pad. Thirty meters above, a quadcopter drone hovered on the left side of the bridge, dutifully gathering footage of the human wall shutting off all traffic over the bridge. A clot in one of America's many arteries. A blockage that needed to be removed.

    Ten minutes later, the sound of the Trenton Police Department's riot guards arriving came to Rose's ear. Large armored vehicles, almost like troop carriers, rolled towards Rose's side of the bridge, forming a corridor. Immediately, squads of riot police clad in heavy protective gear and wielding guns armed with rubber bullets disembarked from the APCs and formed ranks by the bridge's entrance. On the other end, the striking workers jeered at the police, shouting insulting slogans at them. The police retrieved more equipment from the APCs. They would not bother with diplomacy.

    The first clouds of tear gas appeared on the bridge with only a second of advance notice. The strikers had expected this, quickly donning masks and eye goggles before the clouds reached them. The police soon realized that the protestors were made of far sterner stuff than they had anticipated, and responded the only way they knew how: overwhelming force. A couple of barked orders, and the near side of the bridge lit up with gunfire. Rubber bullets slammed into the mass of strikers, the vanguard collapsing to the ground almost instantly. Still, the protestors would not back down. After another series of barked orders, the officers formed a line between the sides of the bridge, riot shields down. Slowly but surely, they advanced towards the mass of protestors, batons in hand. Somehow, the strikers held their ground, bracing for the horrors to come.

    It took only a few moments after the police and striker lines contacted before all hell broke lose. The riot police first began slamming their riot shields into the strikers, then began beating all in their path without pause or mercy. Every few seconds, another striker fell to the ground, bloodied and disoriented. Slowly but surely, the striker line was pushed back towards the bridge entrance, their resolve faltering. Two minutes in, and the line finally broke. The strikers fled back towards the warehouse without any coordination, all while the riot police chased after them with ruthless abandon. All those caught in their path could expect only the baton. Once the bridge had been completely cleared, the police signaled to the vehicles, and the next stage of the strikebreaking began. The police APCs began advancing across the bridge, soon to be joined by some new arrivals: a fleet of Rivian SUVs with the Amazon logo marked on them. Scabs, thought Rose. Poor sods out of a job and desperate to make ends meet, turned against the Amazon employees.

    She had caught all of this on video, of course. It was exactly what the Herald needed: classic, thrilling, all-American carnage. Posting select clips of this would set off a firestorm of controversy on Twitter or YouTube, attracting countless online commentators in need of an atrocity to be outraged over. The allure of the spectacle was overpowering.

    Welcome to the American Nightmare, thought Rose.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • And here I've properly introduced one of the primary American PoV characters. She was always going to factor into the story later on but I hadn't figured out how to bring her in earlier until I started my proper rewrite. As a note, her name is definitely a cheeky pop culture reference - technically two pop culture references, as is her yet-to-be-revealed work partner.
     
    gutza1 said:
    July 7, 2022
    Trenton, New Jersey

    It was morning in America, but Rosemary "Rose" Strider wasn't in a radiant mood. On the contrary, what filled her mind was growing impatience. She had camped out for hours near the bridge that led to the Amazon warehouse - the bridge that was now entirely blocked off by angry protestors. On this day, the employees who worked at the warehouse had done the unthinkable: go on strike. It was the culmination of more than a month of misery.

    Last May, the last legs supporting the global economy had given way. For more than a year, the intricate supply chains that the modern world depended upon had grown less and less reliable. Both parts for the factories and consumer goods that could be depended upon to arrive in a few weeks now might not arrive for months. Empty store shelves had become a common sight, and prices had risen to reflect the supply shock. However, many had still hoped for an eventual recovery - until news from China shattered whatever confidence remained. It turned out that much of the non-state Chinese financial system was insolvent, and many Chinese enterprises that America depended upon were in dire straits. A week after the so-called "Jie Report" came out, the Dow and Nasdaq had nosedived, just like in 2008. On the way to the bridge, Rose had passed by a street of shuttered stores and more than one homeless person. It was a sign that the fabled "normality" the country desparately sought may not return for years.

    "Fortunately," Rose's livelihood depended upon abnormality. As an investigative journalist working for the American Herald, a small independent outfit operating out of Brooklyn, it was her job to seek out chaos, immiseration, and America's seedy underbelly. This unexpectedly vigilant strike was the perfect scoop. A group of employees at one of the most infamously exploitative corporations in America, forced to work overtime in order to desperately salvage what were left of the supply chains that fed the voracious and insatiable American consumer but finding themselves able to take it no longer. Now, she was here to document their struggles.

    She also was sure that Trenton's heavily militarized police was inbound. After all, allowing Amazon's operations to remain hindered was unacceptable to the authorities. The treats must flow, no matter how many workers must be ground under Bezos' heels. She, for one, could not afford to miss the fireworks.

    Rose fumbled with her control pad. Thirty meters above, a quadcopter drone hovered on the left side of the bridge, dutifully gathering footage of the human wall shutting off all traffic over the bridge. A clot in one of America's many arteries. A blockage that needed to be removed.

    Ten minutes later, the sound of the Trenton Police Department's riot guards arriving came to Rose's ear. Large armored vehicles, almost like troop carriers, rolled towards Rose's side of the bridge, forming a corridor. Immediately, squads of riot police clad in heavy protective gear and wielding guns armed with rubber bullets disembarked from the APCs and formed ranks by the bridge's entrance. On the other end, the striking workers jeered at the police, shouting insulting slogans at them. The police retrieved more equipment from the APCs. They would not bother with diplomacy.

    The first clouds of tear gas appeared on the bridge with only a second of advance notice. The strikers had expected this, quickly donning masks and eye goggles before the clouds reached them. The police soon realized that the protestors were made of far sterner stuff than they had anticipated, and responded the only way they knew how: overwhelming force. A couple of barked orders, and the near side of the bridge lit up with gunfire. Rubber bullets slammed into the mass of strikers, the vanguard collapsing to the ground almost instantly. Still, the protestors would not back down. After another series of barked orders, the officers formed a line between the sides of the bridge, riot shields down. Slowly but surely, they advanced towards the mass of protestors, batons in hand. Somehow, the strikers held their ground, bracing for the horrors to come.

    It took only a few moments after the police and striker lines contacted before all hell broke lose. The riot police first began slamming their riot shields into the strikers, then began beating all in their path without pause or mercy. Every few seconds, another striker fell to the ground, bloodied and disoriented. Slowly but surely, the striker line was pushed back towards the bridge entrance, their resolve faltering. Two minutes in, and the line finally broke. The strikers fled back towards the warehouse without any coordination, all while the riot police chased after them with ruthless abandon. All those caught in their path could expect only the baton. Once the bridge had been completely cleared, the police signaled to the vehicles, and the next stage of the strikebreaking began. The police APCs began advancing across the bridge, soon to be joined by some new arrivals: a fleet of Rivian SUVs with the Amazon logo marked on them. Scabs, thought Rose. Poor sods out of a job and desperate to make ends meet, turned against the Amazon employees.

    She had caught all of this on video, of course. It was exactly what the Herald needed: classic, thrilling, all-American carnage. Posting select clips of this would set off a firestorm of controversy on Twitter or YouTube, attracting countless online commentators in need of an atrocity to be outraged over. The allure of the spectacle was overpowering.

    Welcome to the American Nightmare, thought Rose.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    American Nightmare? No, the American Truth. It was always rotten; rotten to the core. The dream was a mask with nothing behind it but a lamprey's mouth. The only way to a better world is to rip out it's beating heart and strangle it with it's own entrails.
     
    @Nyvis Anyway, I've taken your criticisms of (what you've seen of) Shabayev's rise to power. You were right in that a random professor who made videos wouldn't be selected by a hidden anti-Putin faction of former Russian deep state members. That's why I've decided to change Shabayev's circumstances. Instead of being a professor, he'll be a member of the Institute of Sociology of the Russian Academy of Sciences, an institution that has suffered thirty years of austerity. For years, he's been working on state-sponsored research projects, but his findings have always been ignored by the people in power. However, during his time, there has been one person in the government who has been his "patron" - someone that may have been secretly cultivating him as a potential leader. Someone who can place his thumb on the state apparatus and protect Shabayev. Someone who has been secretly resenting the current Russian leadership for decades and has been biding his time, waiting to strike.

    I am speaking, of course, of Senator Nikolai Ryzhov (though I'll probably change his first name to avoid outright writing a real person as a fictional character), former Chairman of the Council of Ministers of the Soviet Union under both Andropov and Gorbachev. IRL, Ryzhov remains an interesting figure. He was aligned with the reformists in the late USSR but took a more measured and independent course. He initially advised Andropov's attempted economic reforms before the latter's untimely death and then went on to advise Gorbachev, but as time went on disagreed more and more with Gorbachev's reckless marketization and privatization plans, a stance that was ultimately vindicated by the USSR's rapid dissolution. He also was distinguished for taking decisive action following the Chernobyl disaster, ordering an evacuation of the surrounding 30 kilometers, and was a major contributor to the reconstruction of Yerevan following the 1988 earthquake in Armenia, a feat that later awarded him the title of "National Hero of Armenia" in 2008 by the Armenian government.

    As for his post-Soviet political career, Ryzhov was the primary opponent of Boris Yeltsin in the 1991 Russian presidential election and continued to be a strong critic of Yeltsin's economic policies during the 90s. He aligned himself with the nascent post-Soviet anti-establishment left, endorsing Zyuganov in the 1996 presidential elections. However, he seems to have had a falling out with the latter, as he never joined the KPRF and to this day does not belong to any political party. Somehow, he managed to be elected Senator representing Belgorod Oblast, and serves in the upper house of Russia's parliament as the head of the committee on natural resources. Ryzhov strikes me as political wildcard. Unlike many of his peers, he did not join the United Russia/Putin grift, and it's not a stretch to have him be plotting a secret overthrow of the government in LtWP.

    In this scenario, "Oleg" would be the FSB agent assigned to "oversee" Shabayev's activities as an Academician, monitoring him. He would initially appear as an antagonistic figure, making the reveal that he is secretly part of an anti-Putin plot all the more surprising.

    I also wanted to make a statement on where I feel the trajectory of the Russian economy is heading. As it stands, the war in Ukraine is set to last for months at the very least. The effects of it on the Russian economy have been... schizophrenic to say the least. Despite hopes that severe Western sanctions would cause the Russian government to collapse, they have so far had the exact opposite effect. The sanctions have driven up global oil prices, ironically enough significantly increasing the revenue of Russian oil sales. However, the longer-term impact of sanctions have not fully made themselves apparent. The severe restrictions on Western imports will likely disrupt many Russian supply chains, thus inflicting severe injury to what's left of Russia's "real economy" outside of fossil fuels. Thus, what is happening is that the Russian elite is only growing richer and richer thanks to the rise in fossil fuel revenues, not having been significantly impacted by the sanctions at all, while Russian manufacturing and the Russian people suffer. This sort of slow-moving catastrophe may end up creating a highly volatile situation on the streets that could lead to a political upheaval... if a would-be leader plays their cards right.
     
    gutza1 said:
    @Nyvis Anyway, I've taken your criticisms of (what you've seen of) Shabayev's rise to power. You were right in that a random professor who made videos wouldn't be selected by a hidden anti-Putin faction of former Russian deep state members. That's why I've decided to change Shabayev's circumstances. Instead of being a professor, he'll be a member of the Institute of Sociology of the Russian Academy of Sciences, an institution that has suffered thirty years of austerity. For years, he's been working on state-sponsored research projects, but his findings have always been ignored by the people in power. However, during his time, there has been one person in the government who has been his "patron" - someone that may have been secretly cultivating him as a potential leader. Someone who can place his thumb on the state apparatus and protect Shabayev. Someone who has been secretly resenting the current Russian leadership for decades and has been biding his time, waiting to strike.

    I am speaking, of course, of Senator Nikolai Ryzhov (though I'll probably change his first name to avoid outright writing a real person as a fictional character), former Chairman of the Council of Ministers of the Soviet Union under both Andropov and Gorbachev. IRL, Ryzhov remains an interesting figure. He was aligned with the reformists in the late USSR but took a more measured and independent course. He initially advised Andropov's attempted economic reforms before the latter's untimely death and then went on to advise Gorbachev, but as time went on disagreed more and more with Gorbachev's reckless marketization and privatization plans, a stance that was ultimately vindicated by the USSR's rapid dissolution. He also was distinguished for taking decisive action following the Chernobyl disaster, ordering an evacuation of the surrounding 30 kilometers, and was a major contributor to the reconstruction of Yerevan following the 1988 earthquake in Armenia, a feat that later awarded him the title of "National Hero of Armenia" in 2008 by the Armenian government.

    As for his post-Soviet political career, Ryzhov was the primary opponent of Boris Yeltsin in the 1991 Russian presidential election and continued to be a strong critic of Yeltsin's economic policies during the 90s. He aligned himself with the nascent post-Soviet anti-establishment left, endorsing Zyuganov in the 1996 presidential elections. However, he seems to have had a falling out with the latter, as he never joined the KPRF and to this day does not belong to any political party. Somehow, he managed to be elected Senator representing Belgorod Oblast, and serves in the upper house of Russia's parliament as the head of the committee on natural resources. Ryzhov strikes me as political wildcard. Unlike many of his peers, he did not join the United Russia/Putin grift, and it's not a stretch to have him be plotting a secret overthrow of the government in LtWP.

    In this scenario, "Oleg" would be the FSB agent assigned to "oversee" Shabayev's activities as an Academician, monitoring him. He would initially appear as an antagonistic figure, making the reveal that he is secretly part of an anti-Putin plot all the more surprising.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    I'm still not sure why he'd be a figurehead rather than an advisor, even if they agree with his analysis. I guess if you build up the independent media side of the story that could feel more natural? If he's not just an analyst the shadowy agent likes but also a figure of internal opposition people have already noticed, that could work. Maybe someone the power that be ignored at first because he spoke of problems rather than positioned himself as a politician himself, but with the following to turn to it when pushed?

    gutza1 said:
    I also wanted to make a statement on where I feel the trajectory of the Russian economy is heading. As it stands, the war in Ukraine is set to last for months at the very least. The effects of it on the Russian economy have been... schizophrenic to say the least. Despite hopes that severe Western sanctions would cause the Russian government to collapse, they have so far had the exact opposite effect. The sanctions have driven up global oil prices, ironically enough significantly increasing the revenue of Russian oil sales. However, the longer-term impact of sanctions have not fully made themselves apparent. The severe restrictions on Western imports will likely disrupt many Russian supply chains, thus inflicting severe injury to what's left of Russia's "real economy" outside of fossil fuels. Thus, what is happening is that the Russian elite is only growing richer and richer thanks to the rise in fossil fuel revenues, not having been significantly impacted by the sanctions at all, while Russian manufacturing and the Russian people suffer. This sort of slow-moving catastrophe may end up creating a highly volatile situation on the streets that could lead to a political upheaval... if a would-be leader plays their cards right.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Though as always it also creates something easy to blame on the west. The (not so popular) war being the defining cause of sanction helps a bit but that's always a big risk with sanction regimes.

    Of course that's with the sanction regime still leaving holes for Russian fossil fuels, which could change if Europe takes action to wean themselves off of them.

    gutza1 said:
    Yes... the thing is, the effects of that won't fully kick in for years. In the short term, Putin and the gang are making bank.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Another thing to consider is the man's health. He's not doing too well.
     
    Nyvis said:
    I'm still not sure why he'd be a figurehead rather than an advisor, even if they agree with his analysis. I guess if you build up the independent media side of the story that could feel more natural? If he's not just an analyst the shadowy agent likes but also a figure of internal opposition people have already noticed, that could work. Maybe someone the power that be ignored at first because he spoke of problems rather than positioned himself as a politician himself, but with the following to turn to it when pushed?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Right. I guess I could have him push for certain proposals such as the massive Far East hydropower initiative in the past, only to get rejected. Though part of the reasoning for why Ryzhov or Makarov would support Shabayev is precisely because he isn't an established politician. He's supposed to be a "fresh face" with no significant ties to any past government. Of course, under certain circumstances that could also make it easier to manipulate him, though I will point out that Ryzhov is in his nineties and will likely die soon after Shabayev takes power. It's supposed to be his "swan song."
     
    gutza1 said:
    Right. I guess I could have him push for certain proposals such as the massive Far East hydropower initiative in the past, only to get rejected. Though part of the reasoning for why Ryzhov or Makarov would support Shabayev is precisely because he isn't an established politician. He's supposed to be a "fresh face" with no significant ties to any past government. Of course, under certain circumstances that could also make it easier to manipulate him, though I will point out that Ryzhov is in his nineties and will likely die soon after Shabayev takes power. It's supposed to be his "swan song."
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    My issue isn't why those individuals would support him as much as why they would make him the figurehead and why they'd think it would work with the population. Obviously he's not going to be an established politician, but he should be an established figure in people's minds.
     
    Nyvis said:
    My issue isn't why those individuals would support him as much as why they would make him the figurehead and why they'd think it would work with the population. Obviously he's not going to be an established politician, but he should be an established figure in people's minds.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Ohh. Now I understand, sorry about that.

    Well, to answer your question... unfortunately, in modern Russia there really aren't any established figures "on the left" in people's minds beyond Zyuganov, and he's just Putin's stooge. Besides him all I've seen are a few bloggers and local politicians, and those have limited appeal. This is what it's like in Putin's Russia - there is no left equivalent of Navalny because Putin has co-opted much of it. The whole narrative I'm trying to go for with Russia is the system falling apart and a new political figure emerging seemingly out of nowhere to become enough of a force to cause a reckoning. I also wanted to tell a story about a humble scientist acquiring a position of power because I thought it would be interesting, and I've been trying to figure out how to get there.
     
    gutza1 said:
    Ohh. Now I understand, sorry about that.

    Well, to answer your question... unfortunately, in modern Russia there really aren't any established figures "on the left" in people's minds beyond Zyuganov, and he's just Putin's stooge. Besides him all I've seen are a few bloggers and local politicians, and those have limited appeal. This is what it's like in Putin's Russia - there is no left equivalent of Navalny because Putin has co-opted much of it. The whole narrative I'm trying to go for with Russia is the system falling apart and a new political figure emerging seemingly out of nowhere to become enough of a force to cause a reckoning. I also wanted to tell a story about a humble scientist acquiring a position of power because I thought it would be interesting, and I've been trying to figure out how to get there.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    You could always have people (re)discover his niche blog/video/analysis content as his campaign gets announced and his name becomes known through the registration.
     
    Teaser: [S] Dr. Hepler: Mental Breakdown
  • Threadmarks
    • July 28, 2022
    Huntsville, Alabama

    "...and thus, we bring you our esteemed guest, Dr. Jonathan Hepler, Senior Engineer working at NASA's Exploration Systems Development Mission Directorate to help return humans to the Moon!"

    Dr. Hepler wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead as he prepared to ascend the stairs leading to the podium. After taking a few deep breaths, he pushed himself forward, all while hundreds of children watched. He had been giving graduation speeches to Space Camp since Obama was first elected, but he never let his guard down. As they said, this was the perfect opportunity to mold the young minds that represented America's future. He could not afford to embarrass himself.

    As he stepped to the podium and tried to gather his thoughts, Dr. Hepler felt a shadow creeping over him. This was supposed to be an opportunity to forget the horrors of the outside world, but he could not escape the many intrusive thoughts popping up. How could he, with the economy in freefall and the specter of another lost generation? How could he, when those in charge stood on the sidelines while the world burned? Looking into the eyes of the campers assembled, he could read traces of that same existential terror. They too had come here to forget, but now that their adventure was almost over, grim reality was approaching like a runaway freight train.

    Dr. Hepler hemmed and hawed to buy a few precious seconds. He had given this talk for years. It should have been routine for him. Why was this so difficult?

    "It's so wonderful to see you, campers! Did you have a fantastic tiiiiiime?"

    The microphone whined with feedback at the last sentence, but Dr. Hepler was still met with a loud "YEAH!" from the kids, though a bit less enthusiastic than he had hoped. He needed to regain momentum.

    "Great to hear that Space Camp spirit! Now, you must have thought all the different activities and subjects we covered here were a lot, but it's really just scratching the surface of what NASA and other agencies like it do! In the more than sixty years since our founding, we've not only put people on the Moon, but have led a million more discoveries! Researching the solar system, using space as a lab to make our lives on Earth better, or even keeping tabs on Mother Nature, these are all things our scientists and engineers have done!"

    If only they knew about all the things we didn't do because-

    Dr. Hepler brushed away the intrusive thought. This was no time to dig up bad memories.

    "Take it from me - in my time at NASA, I've had the privilege to work as a systems engineer on many projects, from climate monitoring satellites to lunar landers!"

    It's good they don't why I switched my focus.

    "It's been decades since Neil Armstrong's small step, but we've carried the torch of progress through multiple generations! When I was just a kid, I too looked up to the heroes of Apollo, the perspective of Voyager, and the promise of the then-new Space Shuttle!"

    Who are our heroes now?, mocked the voice in his head.

    "Those programs may feel like ancient history, but they set an example for all of us! They show that together-"

    His voice cracked, just slightly. "Togetherness" was looking more and more like a childish fantasy.

    "-together, there is no problem we cannot…"

    Sharp anguish stabbed his mind. A vision of warnings left unheeded, of promises left unfulfilled. Of hope, dying in the dark. He stammered the next few words, trying to get a hold of himself. Some of the other attendants were glancing at each other nervously. Even the campers felt something wrong.

    "...cannot… solve… …The world outside may feel scary and overwhelming, but know that we can overcome it! When you return home to your families, take this lesson with you. You are the next generation of dreamers, thinkers, and explorers! I know… deep… inside… my… heart…"

    It was overpowering him. The awful lie he was telling. For a moment, it took all of Dr. Hepler's will to fight back tears. Hushed whispers were heard among the crowd as he tried to strain his face into a smile. All at once, his self-restraint shattered into a million pieces as his anguish was replaced with white-hot fury.

    For a few seconds, there was only silence as the good Doctor heaved, leaning on the podium. No one dared intervene. Then, a single word was heard, uttered with steely conviction.

    "No."

    Dr. Hepler slowly pulled himself back up from the podium, facing his audience with a killing glare.

    "No, I don't," he muttered between clenched teeth. A few gasps were heard among the audience.

    "You see, kids, this whole time, I've been lying to you. Or should I say, we've all been."

    He shook his head.

    "For decades, we've had the solutions to many of the problems facing this world on the drawing board. Solutions that have never been used! Do you know why? The ugly truth is, it isn't the brave innovators who are in charge of things. It isn't people like you who run the world."

    His face twisted even further into a snarl.

    "It's the greediest, ugliest, and most short-sighted among us that do! Our country isn't a country of thinkers and dreamers; it's a country of BANKERS and LAWYERS!"

    "Dr. Hepler!" shouted an attendant. He ignored it.

    "You want to know about what I've done? For years, I was a systems engineer in the agency's earth sciences division, helping design satellites to monitor the climate! I rubbed shoulders with the brightest climate scientists America has, and not one of them had anything good to report! I knew many good people who worked their butts off trying to get our leaders to DO SOMETHING, but not one of them succeeded! The situation was so depressing that I requested a transfer to the deep space exploration program just to forget about it!"

    He slammed his fist on the podium.

    We've known about what greenhouse gasses are doing to the environment since the 70s, and not one of our politicians lifted a finger to do anything about it! In fact, they were so eager to obscure the truth, that they renamed 'global warming' to 'climate change' just to avoid SCARING us!"

    "Dr. Hepler, that's enough!" shouted the attendant again.

    "Do you want to know why? Because they're all bought and paid for by the big corporate interests that truly run this country! Only a few years after global warming-"

    He said the last two words with particular emphasis, to reinforce their reality.

    "-was discovered, all the big fossil fuel companies spend enormous sums of money on PR campaigns to deny it even existed! They lied, not just to America, but to the entire world, and we are only now facing the consequences! We could have lived in a world that didn't fear rising sea levels or desertification if not for these MONSTERS who stole our future from us!"

    Dr. Hepler felt blood rushing through his forehead and air rushing through his lungs. His heart pounded harder than he had ever felt before.

    "All of that stuff about science leading to a better future, about inspiring the next generation, none of it will matter because you won't have the power to change anything! It won't matter, BECAUSE THEY'VE SOLD ALL OF US OUT TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER! OUR LIVES, OUR HOPES, OUR DREAMS, AND-"

    Dr. Hepler felt himself reach a fever pitch as his outcries turned to shrieks. The rage was all-consuming. His hands had the podium in a vice grip and he felt a shortness of breath. Suddenly, he felt woozy and unbalanced. The world appeared to fade out of existence as Dr. Hepler released the podium. Everything went black and Dr. Hepler collapsed on the floor, having fainted from the sheer intensity of his outburst.
    The room once again was silent, the campers glancing at each other with fearful and confused looks. One of the attendants desperately tried to salvage the situation.

    "Sorry for that. Anyway, we all hope you had a wonderful time…"
     
  • Threadmarks
    • The sentiments expressed in this teaser were based off of my own personal journey as a person involved in STEM. Specifically, my disenchantment as I grew up.
     
    I studied marine science in undergrad. Most of my professors were involved in some element of climate change, from ice melt and current changes to acidification to sea level rise. There was almost always a day near the end of the semester where they'd turn off the projector and tell us what would actually need to be done to solve the problems, and how vanishingly unlikely it was that would happen.

    I understand this chapter more than I'd like.
     
    gutza1 said:
    It won't really have and impact because nobody was recording it and everyone thinks it's just a "mental breakdown" that can be solved by a few weeks of vacation and therapy.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Ooo
    Forgot it isn't a high-profile thing like those other stuff. And "mental breakdown"'s the technical truth, minus his ramblings which probably resonated on a kid or more.
     
    Last edited:
    Reader mode
    You must login or register to reply here.
    Remove ads
    Back
    Top