Preparing for the Axell Corp monthly Heads of Departments meeting, Mike Axell was sitting on the boardroom table resting his feet on one of the luxury chairs. The curtains drawn back, he was staring out through the large panoramic windows, out over the New York morning skyline. Being still early, on the street below, the morning rush hour would be at its peak but the city noise didn't penetrate up into the sound-proofed meeting room. The room was even protected from electronic eavesdropping by state of the art electronics and good old fashioned design.
It was one of his rare quiet moments and Mike was contemplating the events of the last ten years. It all seemed an age ago when, in a moment of curiosity he had hacked into Rodger Fergusson's computer just to see what a world leading astronomer does during the day. A whole lot had happened since then and Rodge Fergusson had become one of his most trusted friends, confidant and reality check.
In that decade the world had continued to lurch from one international, political or ecological crisis to another while still advancing in technology and scientific knowledge. The media kept people worrying about the climate or the violence, in total ignorance of the horrific doom about to be visited on their unsuspecting world. Also in that decade, his marriage to Elizabeth had failed. His now ex-wife had taken their twin sons Arthur and Edward, and moved in with one of her body guards, citing Mike's constant absences on business as the cause of her unhappiness.
This had hurt Mike badly at the time and he had had to be convinced, almost physically restrained from taking retribution on both his wife and her lover. It was Rodge who had shown him that acting on his desire for revenge would only remove any possibility of him having access to his sons. Rodge convinced him to find more productive ways to just deal with the pain until he could face the situation logically. Sadly it had taken the loss of Elle to show him the wisdom of that advice. Since then he had made peace with Elizabeth and Mark, now her husband. His sons were now both working for Axell CORP as junior engineers after completing an internship following their graduation from MIT. At reflective moments like this the enormity of the burden he had assumed weighed very heavily indeed.
His reverie was interrupted when Rodge Fergusson knocked and entered with a couple of cups of coffee and a piece of fruit toast.
"Cheers" Mike accepted the coffee and waved away the toast, "Are the directors here yet?"
"Yes, they are all here and just getting their coffee."
"They can wait," Mike decided out loud "I was just remembering when this all started, it seems like a million years ago, we have done well to have got this far and no-one," he waved towards the window, "no-one out there has a clue."
Rodge took a bite from the toast and responded.
"At least some of humanity has a chance of surviving this thanks to you, if the Government was involved, it would have leaked and civilisation as we know it would have collapsed years ago. Those who don't get to make it will at least have the chance to live normally until the end. So far you have performed a miracle."
"Well it is time to direct the Directors then," said Mike dryly as he dragged the heavy curtains closed blocking out the morning city.
The monthly meeting was an exact clone of the previous half dozen, the Sanctuaries are behind schedule, the colonists were fully prepared to adopt the role for real and the security forces are trained and skilled up for post industrial operations. After the Directors had departed, Mike turned to Rodge.
"I think it is time to have a holiday, officially that is, and unofficially we need to have a good look at all of our operations. Have you heard from Jean?"
"Well she did tell me to tell you directly and confidentially that you need to visit the Research Centre, her and Brian have something to show you."
"Well when you call her tonight, tell her we will see them on Wednesday, at home so get them to wait for us before going to work."
On Wednesday morning, the driver dropped the pair at the entrance to Jean's and Brian's Brownstone in Washington DC. He waited as the two men entered the house before looping around the block to find a parking spot further back in their narrow street from where he had an unobstructed view of the house front. The driver unclipped his seatbelt, placed his pistol in the door pocket and adjusted his vest. He opened the sun roof and placed the small magnetically mounted box on the roof of the limo and turned his tablet on and joined it to the radar signal. Between the reversing camera and the ground radar, no one would approach the car or the house undetected.
Rodge hugged his eldest daughter and shook hands with Brian, Mike shook hands all round and walked straight past them into the kitchen and opened the fridge.
"What have you got to drink?" he asked as he extracted a bottle of orange juice and took a long swig straight from the bottle.
"Help yourself uncle Mike why don't you?" said Jean laughing.
"Do you want a coffee Rodge?" asked Brian.
While Brian operated the coffee machine, Rodge appraised his daughter's choice for a partner. Brian Dowling was a brilliant Physicist and as it turned out, an even better Engineer, but even more importantly he was totally devoted to Jean, and she him.
"So, what do you have to show us then?" asked Mike.
He pulled up a kitchen chair and plonked his orange juice carelessly on the table. Jean frowned at the sight of spilt juice on the very expensive table, but since Mike was paying for the house, she just flicked a paper towel at him to wipe it up.
Brian reported excitedly.
"We have a working prototype, we successfully moved a model car two hours into the future with an error margin of one percent. We even sent a mouse through and it popped out two hours later in perfect health."
"No-one else knows what we have done yet," added Jean. "It used a shitload of electricity but."
"Woah!" exclaimed Mike.
"Well done," added Rodge. "Can we see this today?"
"Of course," both Brian and Jean said together.
"I'll call ahead to let facilities know we are going to brown them out again, so this time they can close down the heavy machinery. Last time we caught them off guard and ruined a machining run on some NASA contract!" advised Jean.
"Well let's go then," said Mike as he dialled his driver.
Familiar with Mike's security precautions, they waited for the driver's signal before exiting the house, Brian locked up and joined them in the back of the limo. Forty-five minutes later they were negotiating the security check points into the Research Centre. The research lab, a well appointed building detached from the main facility was protected by some serious looking security staff and an even more serious looking locked door.
Once inside, Mike and Rodge were confronted by a maze of heavy duty cabling connecting a bank of computers to a series of grey boxes set evenly around a circular arch cut out of ply wood, about a meter in diameter and secured to a timber frame by gaffer tape. The cables across the base of the arch were protected by a ramp made of pine planks. The whole scene looking just like a junior school 'show and tell' copy of a B Grade movie time portal.
"Well?" asked Jean proudly.
"Well what?" asked Mike back. "What the hell is that?"
He couldn't maintain his stern face and broke into a boyish grin.
"Come on, show us how it works," he demanded enthusiastically.
"You will need a bit of patience, it takes about an hour to get ready, mostly calibrating the fields," explained Brian.
"Oh well," shrugged Rodge "any Coffee?" he asked.
"None here, you have to go over to the canteen for coffee but we do have coke in the fridge,"
Jean pointed to the fridge in the corner. Jean and Brian began bringing the equipment on-line while Rodge and Mike made themselves comfortable in the only two chairs in the building. After a while the air within the arc of the arch began to shimmer and then grow slowly darker and darker until it was the deepest black that Rodge had ever seen, like looking into a tunnel. Brian checked the computer monitors and declared it was ready. Rodge and Mike checked out the other side of the arch, commented that this side only showed as grey, not black like the other side.
Jean explained that as light could not come back from the future, the one side of the portal was totally black. Light could however, go from the past to the future and eventually when time catches up, it will be possible to look back into the room two hours in the past. Excited now, Jean placed some batteries in a toy truck and gently placed a grey lab mouse into a small cage on the back of the truck. She placed the truck on the floor in front of the arch and turned it on and watched it negotiate the ramp and disappear through the black barrier as it crossed the threshold of the portal.
"Shit!" exclaimed Mike as he ran behind the arch.
There was nothing there.
"You now have to wait two hours, give or take about two minutes," explained Brian proudly.
"Well we'll just have to wait then," said a very excited Mike.
While they waited, Jean explained that theoretically the greatest time they can send things into the future was about one thousand years before the uncertainty made programming the exit time unreliable. But, she explained, to even achieve that, they would need a dedicated clean power source and computers with about ten times the computing power of the ones they were using now. Brian explained that the dodgy boxes were only a temporary measure for holding the circuitry in the prototype. Any production model would have the circuitry protected by precision machined enclosures. Properly assembled equipment would increase the precision to mere minutes of variation over hundreds of years, the present error level was an artefact of the first test machine.
"How large an object can be sent through this portal?" asked Mike.
"As big as can fit through the portal," explained Jean. "Size does not enter into it, it takes no more power to send a truck through than it does a mouse, that is the beauty of the Quantum effect. It is just that it requires a more accurate voltage control and a very clean current flow as the size of the portal grows, the maximum practical size of the portal would let a large truck or tank drive through." she continued.
"What happens if the car tries to back out as it enters the portal?" Rodge asked.
"It can't, we tried to drag one back but it just went through leaving us with the tailgate," Brian said. "We even just put a ball into the portal, once it has touched the event horizon, it is dragged through, there is no stopping or reversing the process.
"How does the mouse come out of it?" asked Rodge.
"Well the mouse we just sent through has been through seven times now and so far has shown no ill effects and doesn't even get distressed," answered Jean.
"Well it is almost time," called Brian from behind the portal. "Do you want to see the arrival?"
On Brian's count down the toy truck appeared five seconds earlier than expected, the grey curtain within the arch suddenly cleared and through the arch, as clear as looking through an open door they saw Jean set the toy truck rolling through the arch, and it just rolled out of the arch and down the ramp, the mouse in the cage appeared totally unconcerned and healthy.
"Shit, I'll be damned!" exclaimed Rodge "it really does work."
Rodge turned to Mike, but he wasn't still behind him.
"Wait there," Mike called as he hurried around the front of the portal.
"Fuck. No. Mike!" shouted Rodge. "Stop!"
Rodge guessed what his friend was about to do. Too late he rushed around the portal barely avoiding tripping on the cables and equipment just in time to see Mike's left foot disappearing through the event horizon.
"Oh fuck!" exclaimed Brian as he joined Rodge. "We have only tested it with the toy truck and the mouse, nothing larger, Oh fuck!"
Jean who had raced to the computer said "Well at least it is still set to two hours, all we can do is wait. What possessed him to do that?"
"Oh he just wanted to be the first man to use a time machine I suppose," answered a worried Rodge.
"Oh dad, what if he doesn't come out," asked a stressed Jean.
"He has to come out, well I mean he has come out, but we won't see him until we catch up at almost 11.50hrs," Brian answered for her.
"What happens if the power goes off now," asked Rodge.
"Nothing, he has already transited the event horizon, he is already out in the future." said Brian flatly.
"Well, I'm going to get a coffee from the canteen, does anyone else want one?" Brian asked.
He knocked on the door to go out. A harrowing hour and three quarters later, the three waited nervously to see what was going to exit the portal. Exactly five seconds short of two hours a laughing Mike appeared on the other side of the portal, dropped to his knees and crawled on all fours through the portal just as a shocked Rodge appeared behind him. Once through he jumped excitedly to his feet.
"That," he paused, then continued jovially "was a total anti-climax."
"That, was totally creepy, seeing yourself in the past as if it was right now," said Rodge in amazement.
"What the fuck do you think you were doing?" demanded Jean.
"Ok, how do you feel?" asked an exasperated Rodge, knowing better than to ask why.
"Totally fine," answered Mike. "It doesn't feel like anything, it just felt like crawling through a door, there was no physical sensation of the time jump, it was just instantaneous."
He went on "Ok, I have just proved it is possible and feasible, so we can now consider human testing complete and successful. Now what do you need to create a portal big enough to drive trucks five hundred or one thousand years into the future?"
"The most important thing we need is a bloody big source of very reliable very clean electricity." answered Brian. "
We also need a couple of super computers," added Jean.
"Done" stated Mike.
"Now how easily can all this be moved to California?" asked Mike.
"We can manufacture the components here and assemble them out there, it doesn't need a clean room for most of it, and most of the components are fairly robust and can be transported easily." answered Jean. "Oh and what would you think of our chances of getting Gunda Singh out of retirement?"
"OK, let's plan on that, I suspect Gunda will welcome some diversion because his latest book isn't selling very well," observed Mike "You still have just under five years to get it all done, but you two are bloody marvellous and now I have to go and reconsider the plans for saving us. Rodge, are you ready to go? We have a lot of work to do."
"Jean you have about two years to build what you can and to get ready to move it," Rodge said over his shoulder as he headed for the door after Mike.
Once past the guards and safely outside, Rodge grabbed a couple of minutes with Jean before he had to join Mike in the limo. She updated him on Mary and her partner of five years Joe Kawalski. The fact that Mary and Joe had stayed together had been a surprise to both of them. Mary had left the Marines as a Major two years ago and now was the Chief Instructor of unarmed combat at Axell Force's advanced training centre. For the previous two years, Joe has been Operations Officer at Headquarters Second Battalion, the main ground combat unit for Axell Force, the First and Third battalions being the training and reserve units respectively. Both Mary and Joe were based in California and Rodge hoped he would get the chance to see them soon. Just as he was about to join Mike in the limo, Jean grabbed his hand.
"Dad," she said quietly to him, "I have a surprise for you," and she placed his hand on her abdomen. "You have a grandchild on the way."
"Shit. I mean wow, hell, when?" stuttered Rodge.
"Oh, before Christmas," replied Jean evasively "I haven't even told Mary yet, she will probably disown me, knowing what she thinks about babies."
"She will be as thrilled as I am," reassured Rodge. "I had better go," he said as the driver beeped the horn. "Shit well done, congratulations to both of you," he called as he climbed into the back of the car, grinning wildly.
"Congratulations, Rodge, it's about time," beamed an always observant Mike. "They will be great parents and now the baby will have a future."
"Yes, and thanks to your foresight," added Rodge.
"Yes, and now I have to figure out how we can get a power station built and operational in a remote location in under two years," declared Mike.
Checking back into their hotel, Rodge directed Mike to the bar, over a beer they relived what they had seen and the enormity of the development actually hit home.
"If those two can make a portal big enough to drive stuff through, we can move people and enough stuff to set up a colony far enough into the future so that the affect of the radiation has been dissipated," enthused Mike.
"If there was no pulsar," observed Rodge ruefully "you could make a fortune making windows that look into the past."
Ignoring Rodge, Mike went on, "If I relocate the Nevada experimental solar power station to California, maybe link them to a billion dollars worth of Tesla's storage cells and use computer controlled filtering to manage the output, we could perhaps drive a large portal. Now I need a reason to do this that will not set the media off on a hunt for some conspiracy or other. Ok, Rodge, grab some sleep, tomorrow we are off to visit some old time farmers."
The next morning, the limo met them at the secure pick-up in the hotel's valet park in the basement and then re-emerged to ease into the peak hour traffic. Large gasoline vehicles like the Limo were becoming rarer in the current emissions-aware environment and it flaunted a conspicuous affluence among the myriad of small electric and hybrid vehicles now dominating the roads.
For the next six hours Mike was hardly off the phone, and when he was, due to black spots, he was compiling emails on the tablet he extracted from the centre console. After a couple of hours, Mike had to ask the driver for a charging cable for his phone and plugged it into the rear seat charging socket, while making a comment about the poor performance of wireless charging even after all this time.
The limo pulled into the gate of what looked like an upmarket Amish farm but with power lines and a satellite dish. Above the gate a sign read 'The Sustainable Community of the Future'. They were met by a couple of middle-aged men and an attractive woman also from the same generation, all wearing jeans, work shirts and boots looking the world like the stereotypical country farmers they were supposed to be.
"Brothers John, James and Sister Ruth," Mike greeted them. "Meet my friend Rodge, Rodge meet John Jakobus, James Vander and Ruth Graham, my eyes in the colony."
Hands were shaken all round, then the five of them all crowded into the back of the limo while it drove up the rough farm road to the main building of the housing complex. While the three farmers struggled out of their work boots, Mike and Rodge were ushered into a large room rather more like a hotel foyer than a lounge room and offered a drink by a young woman in a rather pretty floral dress. Before the others joined them, Mike enlightened Rodge on the role of the three, Ruth and James were agricultural scientists specialising in pre-industrial farming while John was a most trusted administrator and accountant, and together the three of them had performed some sort of agricultural miracle here. He had just finished talking when they were joined by John and Ruth while James fetched the others a drink. Finally settled, Ruth brought Mike and Rodge up to date on the settlement's situation.
Ruth provided Rodge and Mike a brief run down on the background of the project and an update of their progress so far. She reported that their actual output was almost on a par with mechanical farming when measured per acre. It was, she reported a bit of a mixed blessing. On one hand it their research and techniques were validated and showed that pre-mechanised agriculture on small scales could provide for all the sanctuaries food needs, but on the downside they had also attracted the interest of the major corporations. There had been attempts to steal knowledge and coerce colony workers away, and there had even been attempts to sabotage crops with GM contamination and straight out chemical poisoning. She reported that they had even received notice of 'cease and desist' lawsuits to close the colonies. Ruth believed the established agricultural conglomerates were feeling threatened by the success of the independent and off the grid colonies.
Mike, listening intently then canvased the opinion of the other two men and they agreed with Ruth. After an hour or so Mike declared time for a break, and to Rodge's surprise, both Ruth and John went outside for a smoke, while Mike and James opted for a coffee. Mike proposed that they could accelerate the colonies' move to the Sanctuaries' location. He suggested that to facilitate this move, they use modern equipment to prepare the land to the same state as the current colonies' land. He would also construct the villages and livestock enclosures so the farmers can move in and take up at the same stage they were at, in their current colonies. Rodge queried the fairness of moving those people who had been living in their diverse colonies for the better part of ten years. Mike pointed out that since the relocation was always going to happen, this would just bring the move forward a couple of years.
"A move now will ensure we can provide security to the farmers," he concluded.
After an extended period of heated discussion and a break for the evening meal, it was agreed the colonies could be moved. Mike then suggested that all the farming techniques practiced to reduce pest damage and increase yield without chemicals or modern machinery should be released into the public domain with as much publicity as possible. This would distract the agricultural corporations and give them something other than the colonies to worry about for the years remaining.
After the meeting, Mike and Rodge were shown to their rooms. Mike then spent a couple of hours on the phone organising preparations for moving the colonists to California. Then even more time on the phone organising the relocation of the solar plant to power the operations of Jean's and Brian's portal.
Next morning they were woken very early, so early in fact it was still dark. Rodge accepted it all philosophically, being when in Rome etc, but Mike whinged all the way through breakfast about the time, about lack of sleep, in fact about everything except the coffee. After breakfast they were taken on a tour through the colony. They started at the housing, the colonists all live in the village, a not so small township constructed of demountable buildings set in a typical grid around a town square. Mike waved to a young woman pushing a young child in a stroller.
Turning to John, "How was this layout decided upon?" Mike asked.
John provided the explanation.
"We started with the public space, a school house and social area in the centre of the town, sort of like in the old days, only more structured and tidy."
He went on.
"Then we laid out the houses to make it easy to assemble them starting from the centre of the town and progressing to the edge of town. We could assemble six houses at a time, and it could have been more if we had more manpower."
"I like that," said Rodge "Could you write me up a brief summary of the process and list any lessons learnt and any gotchas. We can use the same system to dismantle and relocate the town to California."
"On that note, my people will need the better part of a year to replicate this in California, for this and the other colonies," Mike informed them. "John, what support will you need to get ready for the move?" he asked suddenly.
"Shit Mike, give me a couple of days to talk to the colonists and work out the details," John replied.
"Ok, I'll get one of my people to call you next week," said Mike. "How do you think your people will take it?" he asked.
"Probably quite well," answered John. "They always knew this was coming, but they are still mystified as to why."
"Well, tell them that when they are all settled in California, all will be revealed," allowed Mike "but no more information than that. Don't let anyone play the rule-in rule-out game or respond to any speculation at all. Tell them you don't know any more than they do, or something, hell you're the accountant, tell them it is economics or something."
Ruth appeared around the corner driving a roofless, battered old Land Rover with a noisy exhaust system.
"Jump on, I'll take you to the farms," she called as the old machine squealed to a stop next to them.
Once they were on board, Ruth juddered the Land Rover into motion and they exited the township out to where a large number of people were working in the fields.
The fields were laid out as a grid with each field about twenty-five yards long and about ten yards wide. Each field was separated from the next by a ten yard wide nature strip. There were about a hundred such fields on this side of the town, it looked that there may be at least the same number around the other side and even more further out. Each individual field seemed to have at least two and sometimes more people working on it.
"Each family is responsible for at least one field near the town," explained Ruth. "They also have another field about a half day walk to the North, that they tend to once a week."
"Why?" asked Rodge.
"To give a bit of a plan B," explained Ruth "if a fire or pest attack or drought hits here, there is a chance it might not get both locations."
"Makes sense," observed Mike. "I didn't take that into account, Ruth, how would you like a trip to California to give the construction team a bit of guidance? If you come with us tonight, we will have you back in a fortnight."
"Can you get away with such short notice?" asked Rodge with more consideration "will your partner be ok with that?"
"I suppose," she replied carefully. "This is becoming a big deal isn't it?" she asked.
"It is indeed, time is running out, it isn't just something way off in the future now, it is only five years away," answered Rodge, before Mike could compose his usual rambling answer.
"We won't be able to keep the gist of it from our people for that much longer, it is important we are all in the one place before that happens, don't you think?" asked Mike.
Ruth answered noncommittally, then turned to point out that each field was growing different crops.
"Each family gets a choice of crops to grow each growing season, they can't choose the same crop every year, but for each growing season there are a number they can plant. We also alternate the cultivation with the fallow strips you see between the present plots. This rotation helps the soil fertility and the variety of crops reduces the vulnerability to pests and the small plots make it manageable for non-mechanical farming."
After making their way back to the Land Rover, Ruth drove them toward a number of large barns, located to the South of the town.
"Here we store the grain and other crops, they are carefully designed to keep the stored crops ventilated, dry and pest free without needing electricity. We initially had an issue with some of the seed from purchased seed stock, the seed we saved for replanting was sterile, turns out most seed stock is patented and can't be replanted. After tracking down old style grain stock, un-patented so to speak, we have now built up our reserves, enough to cover us for a number of years. We also had to overcome a number of lawsuits over seed ownership in those early years. The agriculture corporations now mostly leave us alone, but some occasionally try other means to disrupt us, like trying to lure our colonists away and by introducing pests and poisons etc."
She went on, "Just last month we were raided by the FBI and Child welfare on a report that we were a child molesting cult."
"Ok, we definitely need to move you, now rather than later," decided Mike "I have seen all I need now, can you take us back to the car?"
Back at the car, they found that the driver had packed up their belongings for them and was patiently waiting ready to go.
"Ok, now for something completely different," muttered Rodge to himself.
On queue, Mike announced that the next stop of the tour was Detroit and to his Small Arms manufacturing plant. It took Ruth about half an hour to appear with a couple of small bags packed and a tearful woman hanging on her arm. Ruth's partner, a shorter woman, wearing a floral dress and a matching apron, was obviously a number of years younger than Ruth and was introduced as Margaret. Rodge reassured Margaret that Ruth would be back in a couple of weeks and promised to look after her, and was rewarded with a teary smile from Margaret and a 'thank-you' from Ruth.
They each endured the six hour drive back to Washington in their own way, Rodge helped himself to the well-stocked bar followed by an uncomfortable sleep. Mike plugged his phone in and set about planning to move the colonies to the Sanctuaries. Ruth tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to read. The driver delivered them to the Axell private terminal at Reagan National Airport just as it was getting dark, where Mike's private Gulfstream was waiting fuelled and ready. An hour later they were finally given clearance to take off and the jet accelerated down the runway.
Mike observed dryly, "This would have to be the only place where money and power doesn't get you preferential treatment, quite the opposite, I'm sure they take great pleasure in delaying private jets."
It was Mike's turn to doze while Rodge and Ruth discussed the successes and failures of the colony farming experiment. A couple of hours later they were greeted by another limo at the Ann Arbor Municipal Airport and dropped off at a five star historical Hotel in downtown Detroit. Mike's team had been efficient and the hotel night staff were waiting for their arrival so they were shown directly through to their suites.
It was late and the dining room closed, however Mike was able to persuade the hotel to deliver grilled steak and salads with beer battered fries and wine to his suite. It was a delicious but basic meal that Rodge suspected was cooked by the concierge herself. After eating, Rodge and Ruth bid Mike good night and headed toward their respective rooms. Ruth touched Rodge on the arm and asked if he would mind joining her for a drink in the bar. She explained that she was a bit too awake to sleep and didn't feel like braving a strange bar on her own. Rodge admitted that the sleep in the car, while uncomfortable, had given him a second wind.
The bar had only a couple of patrons, obviously business guests, both were sitting by themselves at separate tables, nursing beers and listening to the live singer murdering Elvis. Rodge ordered a couple of top shelf Scotches and joined Ruth at a table toward the back of the lounge, at least far enough from the live singer to allow normal conversation. Rodge asked her how she came to be the chief horticulturist to one of the colonies.
"Well it is a long story actually," she began "are you sure you want to hear it all?"
"I've got nowhere better to be," he answered gallantly.
"Ok, then it started at College, I was studying accounting and fell madly in love with Dave, one of my fellow students. Dave was the stereotype overachiever, top footballer, honour student and handsome to boot. We married in the spring break of the third year and enjoyed a full six months of married bliss before he first hit me.
"What!" began Rodge in horror.
Ruth held up her finger to stop him.
"I forgave him once, then at a Halloween party, he accused me of flirting and dragged me back to the apartment and hit me again. I waited until he was asleep and I packed some clothes, emptied the cash jar and walked out. I wanted to go to Canada so I hitched North with a trucker and somewhere in Upstate Pennsylvania he pulled into a stop on the side of the road and tried to rape me. I managed to get free of him and ran to a farm house on the other side of a cultivated field and banged on their door. I was barely dressed and had nothing. The farmers were an Amish family and they took me in, made it right with the police and my family, and to make a long story not so long, I ended up staying."
Rodge was intrigued and ordered another round, figuring it was ok to bill them to Mike's account. Ruth waited until the drinks arrived.
"After a couple of years of enjoying the simple farming life, I thought about College again, so I just walked out. I called my parents, called in some favours, blackmailed my ex husband's family and got the references and funds to enrol in a Plant Pathology and Environmental Microbiology Degree at Penn State. At Uni I met and fell in love with Margaret, an Ecosystem Science Major, she has a brother who is one of Mike Axell's IT colleagues and when the shit hit the fan, well you know the rest. What about you Dr Roger Fergusson, what is your story?"
Rodge waved over for refills and then told Ruth the whole story, she was surprisingly easy to talk to and he found himself unloading a lot of his bottled up feelings. He explained the dread of realising the end of the world was going to happen in his lifetime. The glimmer of hope that Mike Axell's money and personal drive had brought, followed by the devastation of his wife's murder. He told her, that through all of this, how his and Mike's friendship had grown and how now all the planning and subterfuge was beginning to pay off.
This was the first time in many years that Rodge had been able to let it out and he thanked Ruth for being so understanding. Ruth for her part, had been drawn to Rodge from first meeting. His dignity and bearing in contrast to Mike's excitability, and his honest interest in her colony and its operations was only helped by his mature good looks. The night's alcohol-assisted-intimacy awoke feelings that Ruth had long thought been bashed out of her and she silently crossed a mental threshold. Standing, Ruth reached out to Rodge and as he took her hand and stood, she leant into him and turned her head to be kissed. Before even thinking, Rodge responded and took Ruth in his arms and held her to him. Silently they found their way back to Ruth's room.
The next morning, after a sleep-in and a lazy breakfast, Rodge and Mike were once again in the limo for the short trip to the Axell small arms plant. Ruth, not being particularly interested in a weapons factory had the day to herself and planned to take in a movie as a treat to herself, she felt uncharacteristically happy. On the way, Mike explained to a quiet, introspective Rodge, that the factory had once manufactured motor vehicles and as such had it's own foundry, so was the perfect business to be converted to arms manufacturing.
Axell Corp held licences for the local manufacturing of several European weapons and was licensed to supply military and law enforcement agencies across the globe. The plant had its own research and development wing and Mike had used the research team to develop modern versions of several types of medieval weapons such as swords, spears, pikes, shields and armour. The team had reported that they were able to create very strong, and light, body armour and very hard, tough alloy swords and spears.
They claimed that these weapons were lighter and stronger than the original weapons and Mike was keen to have them assessed for purpose by a medieval warfare expert. The limo was waved through the first line of security and only briefly delayed at the second level gate. The bollards were lowered and the limo was waved through as soon as Mike's identity was confirmed. A couple of men, one wearing a white lab coat and one in a business suit met them at the factory administration block.
"Poser" scoffed Mike, pointing out the lab coat wearer. "They put on a shiny white lab coat to make me to think they are hands-on scientists, when everyone knows most of their work is done in front of a computer."
Rodge was actually very interested in the project, as his youngest daughter Mary had serious qualifications in the area of medieval weapons and warfare and so he refused to be drawn.
When the car pulled to a halt, Mike's door was opened by the suit.
"Good morning sir," he greeted Mike "I am Evan Bell, Director of the Steel Division."
"I remember," replied Mike diplomatically. "We met at the AGM a couple of years ago, you were reporting on the new lightweight machine gun mount, carbon fibre, if I remember correctly, I thought at the time that was a funny product from the Steel Division."
"Ah yes," replied Mr Bell "point taken, but we do a lot of work on new materials as well as steel here."
"So I subsequently found out," agreed Mike. "May I introduce my colleague and advisor Dr Fergusson."
"Call me Rodge please," responded Rodge "and pleased to meet you Evan."
"Pleased to meet you Rodge, could you, by any chance, be related to Mary Fergusson?" asked Evan.
"Well, maybe, yes I have a daughter Mary, why do you ask?" queried Rodge.
"Mary has been here working with the team putting our weapons to the test, she and her berserkers should be around here somewhere."
Rodge turned to Mike who smiled and shrugged, "Oops, I may have forgotten to tell you that."
Evan interrupted, "Would you like to come inside to see a selection of our weapons?"
The administration building, an old red brick building with small recessed and barred windows and a set of five steps leading to the white painted double wooden doors didn't look very impressive. Inside, a narrow corridor led to a reception area with the receptionist sitting behind a classic glass screen much like that of the older bank tellers. With Mike and Rodge in tow and trailed by the lab coat, Evan motioned to the suspiciously fit looking man behind the reception desk, one of the doors in the corridor slid silently open.
Once inside, Mike was impressed to find a large, modern, well appointed Boardroom with a long table down the centre of the room. The table was protected by a green felt cover and on the table a selection of about twenty different swords and large knives, while leaning against the far wall were a couple of shields and half a dozen long spears and pikes.
"Wow!" enthused Mike excitedly.
He picked up the first sword he could reach. It had a long straight double edged blade about a yard long and three inches wide.
"Hell, I thought this was supposed to be light?" he asked hefting the sword.
"It is," answered the lab coat.
"Who are You?" asked Mike.
"I'm Dr Mickel Hinder," the lab coat replied "and these weapons are my speciality. The original weapons were about a pound heavier than that, but their blades were thinner and more brittle. We were able to make these swords lighter and stronger, but they then lost some of their balance and feel. We had to make the blades a wee bit thicker and then add some weight to the pommel to re-balance the weapon and make them more responsive."
At this point, a commotion outside the room drew everyone's attention to the door. It slid open and in bundled five laughing, athletic looking bodies in sweaty grey exercise gear. They all propped suddenly, realising the room was populated by suit-wearing official looking visitors.
"Dad" shouted one of the bodies as Rodge focussed in on his daughter extracting herself from the melee.
She threw herself into his arms.
"It has been ages, since you last visited us," she accused.
Rodge returned the hug then pushed back pulling a face.
"Arrr you are all sweaty,"
He was about to apologise, then noticed something different about Mary.
Holding her at arms length, he asked her "Got something to tell me maybe?"
"Arrr well now you mention it, I have been eating a bit too much," she replied cheekily.
"Hmm" replied Rodge as the other members of her group started to chuckle.
"Have you spoken to Jean recently?" Rodge asked.
"No, why?" "Well you and her may have something in common," Rodge advised her.
"Bitch," retorted Mary with a smile "I thought I would beat her to it, when is she due?"
"Sometime just before Christmas, I think," answered Rodge deliberately vague.
"Well there is a chance I can beat her then," Mary responded gaily. "So that's the formalities over, what are you and Mike doing here?" she asked.
"We are touring the Axell subsidiaries and assessing if they are meeting their Corporate OH and S requirements, and what are you doing here and who are your mates?" asked Rodge in turn.
At this point, Mike butted in, "Congratulations, how is Joe taking it?" he asked.
"Joe, hell he is so clucky, you wouldn't peg him for a gun-totin' redneck at all these days. He just fusses on me and won't let me train when I'm at home." She turned to her father, "My team and I are testing the weapons for real life fit-for-purpose, they really fight with them. I don't now though on account of my passenger," she added.
She went on, "The boys get padded up in Kevlar armour and really go for it, we do end up with a lot of bruises, and bruised egos but no serious hurt so the armour is really good as well. Dr Hinder has ensured that the blades are not sharpened so it is a little bit safe, do you want to see?"
Mike butted in, "Fuck yeah, what do you think of them compared to the original weapons?"
"Oh they are very good, light and well balanced and really strong," she answered.
Dr Hinder interrupted, "We have developed a really strong and flexible alloy, that is harder than the original steel weapons, even harder than the legendary Katana, yet tough and not brittle."
He motioned to a couple of Mary's team, one of the men retrieved a couple of six by six wooden blocks from behind the door and placed them on the floor about two feet apart. He reached to take the sword that Mike was still holding and positioned it on the blocks with the handle and cross guard resting on one block and the last six inches of the blade on the other block. He then stood on the blade right in the middle of the unsupported section of the blade. It deflected about an inch under his weight, he bounced a bit causing the blade to deflect even more before he over balanced and had to step off. With the load off the blade, it simply sprang back to its original shape. Mike was impressed as he retrieved the sword and eyed along the blade.
"An original sword would either break or stay deformed under that test," Dr Hinder reported.
Rodge took the weapon from Mike and checked the blade, it was obviously still straight and he could now see that the edges were actually rounded rather than just dulled and the tip was also rounded.
At his question, Mary answered. "Production weapons would be sharpened but these are test and training weapons.
Hey guys, get armoured up for a demo," she called to her team.
As they waited, Evan Bell organised a round of cold drinks for his guests. Soon Mary returned and gathered up a handful of weapons and directed her father and Mike to bring a couple of shields from the wall. Leading them outside, they laid the weapons on the ground behind the parked car. Her team appeared soon after, dressed in what looked superficially like Saxon chainmail over leather and steel breast plates but on closer inspection proved to be of a more modern Kevlar and alloy construction. Two of the men hefted a shield and sword each and squared off.
Mike and Rodge settled themselves on the trunk of the limo expecting a cinematic duel, instead they were treated to a violent and fast melee of swinging, thrusting swords and clashing shields. The combat was intense, serious and incredibly noisy with the crash of shields and swords ringing over the usual noise of the factory. It seemed to Rodge that the fighting could not possibly last at that intensity, but the two combatants were superbly fit and skilled and neither showed any inclination for surrendering the fight.
The duel soon gathered an audience of factory workers who cheered the gladiators on to greater efforts. After what seemed like an age, Mary leaned into the limo and pressed the horn a number of times. The combatants stepped away from each other, warily breaking contact. When it was clear that neither was going to attack again, each lowered their shield and sword and reached out to shake on a good fight. With the action over, it was obvious, as the adrenaline wore off, that the intensity of the combat had taken its toll, with both of them out of breath and sweating profusely. Mike was over the moon with excitement,
"I have never seen anything like that," he exhorted as he shook the mens' hands.
"Thank you."
"Was medieval combat really like that?" asked Rodge.
One of the men, who identified himself as Neil replied. "Not really, they didn't go for single combat much, most of the fighting would have been from behind a shield wall. That in itself would have been just brutal, but while there weren't any rules for duelling, it would have been intense that is for sure."
"How much training do you do?"
"At least four sometimes more hours a day," Neil replied "like any elite sport, you need to put in the hours."
While Rodge was discussing the art of medieval combat with Neil and his comrade, Mike with Mary and Dr Hinder were examining the weapons. The shields definitely showed evidence of the fight, the alloy skin had dents and scratches all over but neither had been compromised. The swords had only small nicks along their blades. Mike was very impressed with the quality of the weapons.
As her team tidied up the battlefield, Mike, Evan Bell and Dr Hinder disappeared back inside the Admin building leaving Rodge and Mary to catch up on the family gossip.
"You will have to call Jean, you know," said Rodge "she is afraid of what you will say, seeing she thinks you are absolutely against having children."
"I know, it will be a difficult subject to broach, that is for sure. She will probably rip my head off when I tell her about Joe's and my baby that's for sure."
"Probably not," replied Rodge "she will be more excited and relieved than angry, I'd say."
"Ok, I'll call tonight," she agreed.
Mary also informed Rodge that Joe was due back in country in a couple of days and that she would have finished her testing and be back in California in time to greet him home. Rodge gave her a brief description of his and Mike's tour of all the projects and that it was their belief it was now time to consolidate them all at Fort Jones.
"Time is running out fast," he said seriously. "But all the ducks are starting to line up, by the way don't let Jean tell you anything about their latest research on an open line, it is spectacular."
"What?" asked Mary.
"Well it looks like her's and Brian's research can open a portal to the future big enough to drive a truck through. Mike wants to move everyone forward five hundred years into the future, well after any ill effects of the radiation have gone."
"Fucking bullshit!" exclaimed Mary. "That is all science fiction bullshit."
"Maybe" answered Rodge carefully "except I saw her shift a toy truck two hours into the future and stupid Mike tested it with himself."
"What, they have a working model, shit, what security do they have, this is fucking world changing, it can't get out," admonished Mary.
At this point Mike returned to the car.
"And what the fuck Mike?" accused Mary as he was about to greet her. "What possessed you to go through yourself?"
"Well" began Mike.
"Doesn't matter," interrupted Mary "you need to deploy a security team immediately to lock Virginia down and watertight."
"I suppose you are correct," admitted Mike, and he extracted his phone from his suit pocket, "When is Joe back?"
Later in the limo heading back to the Hotel, Mike updated Rodge on the weapon situation.
"Well the first deliverable is nearly complete. I have ordered a couple of thousand swords, shields and pikes as well as a shitload of knives, well really they are actually short swords all treated and preserved to last for five hundred years."
"Why?" asked Rodge.
"If they can last for five hundred years then there is no need to take them through the portal is there?" replied Mike.
"Ok, just to be the devil's advocate here, what measures have you put in place to stop them being stolen by any survivors?" asked Rodge.
"You and your bloody daughter," laughed Mike, "Always with the common sense. Ok, well what would you suggest?" he asked.
"Probably have to bury them," Rodge surmised, "You would need some sort of secure, airtight, durable and non corrosive container, maybe bronze. Would it be possible to seal up a cavern in one of the Sanctuaries with all the stores that can be left for five hundred years?
"Keep that thought and we will look into it next planning meeting. Tomorrow we catch a flight, well flights to Fort Jones to check on the Sanctuaries. Mary looks happy," Mike added "How far gone is she?"
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Director Williams' attention was wandering during the young analyst's report. She had once, many years ago, held agent Perilli's position as Team Leader of the Domestic Corporation Unit and empathised with his discomfort in presenting his report. Her attention was shocked back to the report at hand by the mention of an almost forgotten name, Axell Corp.
"What was that?" she interrupted. "Could you say that again about the Axell Corporation?"
"We have had a report that Axell Corp has initiated an urgent project to relocate their solar power station from Nevada to be near their waste processing sites near Fort Jones California. They have also recently deployed a platoon of special forces trained security personnel to their research establishment in Virginia near DC. While we can't identify any real reason for concern, I just believe it should be noted."
Charlie remembered with chagrin the time she had tried to initiate a formal investigation into the Axell Corporation activities. She understood now why it had been refused on the grounds of there being nothing the Corporation was doing that was illegal or threatening. Her investigation had died before it could be started. Now here was another generation of analysts flagging the Corporation as worthy of at least notice. The Chairman called for comments and if there were none, to accept the report. Charlie spoke up.
"In the last ten years, Mike Axell has sponsored a number of flat earth, Martian colony, farming communities. He has set up medieval fight clubs, funded secret research at an atom smasher and moved the participating scientists to his own secret research establishment. He has setup a private mercenary army, now he is involved in building two huge underground medical and low level medical nuclear waste disposal complexes and relocating his experimental solar power generating plant out there. None of this is in itself of any concern, but when it is all listed together, it sounds rather strange. I suggest that Axell Corp be raised from a notice to a watch level and their activities more closely investigated."
The Chairman reminded committee that all previous investigations into Mike Axell had shown no untoward activity at all and to the contrary his affairs had been a model of corporate compliance. That said, the vote was taken and Charlie's amendments were approved by the committee. The Chairman directed that Agent Perilli's department raise a unit to establish a watch on Axell Corp and to report directly to Director Williams. He advised Agent Perilli that formal orders would be issued once the meeting's minutes were published.
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