Black Star

Chapter Seven

The year TVC14 had been a calm time in his life. He had a job he craved and had never met another person who would challenge him for it. He was a doctor of history and specialised in 21st-century life. That summer had been the most contented he could remember. 

The Mag Pod pulled up to a crawl outside the National Institute and Doctor Touchreik stepped onto the sidewalk. There were wide green spaces surrounding the expansive paved courtyard leading to the building complex. Even without the benefit of augmented reality, it was an attractive space. The three-story C shaped structure in front of him tilted down to ground level on either side as if it were possible, and probably was, to run across the roof from one side to the other. It was clad in gold reflective glass and it looked like a giant eye peering over the horizon. Its eyeball was the darker protruding foyer and reception area. Approaching it felt like the building was reaching out and embracing you. 

The institute went unnoticed by the disinterested well-healed masses across the river. The Shleps who spent wasted days inside a virtual world which recreated and fantasised about a history that in the most part never happened. In V-World's historic sims, the artistic licence of its small-minded creators had lost track of what was real history and what wasn't. No one cared as long as it was exciting and fun, which it usually was. The doctor was a pioneer of nothing because he passionately fought for a cause that no one gave a shit about but him. Real questions about where we came from and what made us who we are. He wanted to go back beyond a barrier, a time when all data and most of humanity was wiped out. 

Heathen, for the most part, was in denial and had been for hundreds of years. That humans had physical relationships and offspring from random DNA like animals was titivating. Those loners across the river forgetting humans might have thrived outside, even with all its viruses, germs and dangers. Instead, they tap into a virtual fantasy world where every need is catered for. It was never about not appreciating what the major did and what Mother did for us now. It was about understanding that Mother was our adoptive parent instead of our creator, history confirms that. Scanning his DNA at the unmanned security point, he was at his station in minutes, albeit around 130 of them later than he had planned. There was nothing overtly world-changing going on this morning. He was heading over to the reserve on the pretence of checking some plant samples. The reserve was a clean safe version of the outside, an interpretation of how it used to be. It was an area of controlled and uncontrolled plant and animal life, a wilderness for educational purposes. 

Touchreik was studying some random patches where foliage was left to battle for supremacy. This helped his study of the patterns to build up a picture of how things might have been in the past. This area had its weather pattern pre-set to something around the 21st century, cooler and much more violent over the course of a year. It was intriguing how the weaker species survived by working with their environment instead of battling it. Tiny bits of algae gathering and thriving amongst the moisture stored by bigger, stronger plants and trees.

His communicator sounded; it was Prout. Touchreik sighed and tapped the back of his neck and a holographic figure appeared on his desk, around 60mm tall. He walked around a small grey square on the desk as he spoke.

"Touchreik?"

"The one and only."

"Enigmatic," he replied with contempt.

"We have a briefing in the concourse at 12 hundred. All departments are attending."

"Don't we always."

"Yes, we always, but in this case, I think it would be beneficial for you to attend this particular one."

"Really?"

"Really, be there, please. Trust me, it's important."

The doc rubbed his chin curiously and dropped his chin on his hands as he came up close to the holographic image on his desk. Prout appeared a little bigger than his head.