Oh World.

By Bertram Ellis

Oh World, the first of these short stories, was published in the days before Global warming became a 'hot' topic. It will give you something to think, and argue about.
Malthus is a cute idea for population control In its defense it is more entertaining that the Chinese laws.
Flight Home a man has ruined his life through ambition. Now he dreams of a way out.
M2 Land mines must be replaced, but is the alternative more dangerous than them.
Finally, Brainstorming, a lost art form, replaced like so many of our traditions by the computer. Maybe you would like to try it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bertram Ellis
• Release date: Jul 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301534715

Bertram Ellis

Bertram Ellis had a successful career with the de Havilland aircraft company of Canada. He was a pilot until he lost his licence due to deteriorating vision. He has traveled the world, Europe, Africa, the Middle East the far East and South America.Among his adventures he has been blown up, shot at and imprisoned briefly in Saudi Arabia. Lost in the Sudanese desert south of Omdurman,fished the Mighty Zambezi. During all his adventures he has kept his belief in the essential goodness of ordinary people. He is a published author of short stories. A handbook on how to write your memoirs. Since retirement he has presented seminars on how to write your memoirs, at no charge, for many years. He lives in St. Catharines, Ontario, Canada with his artist wife Karen. He has three children and ten hgrandchildren

Book preview

OH WORLD

AND OTHER SHORT STORIES

Reflections on the state of our world.

By

Bertram Ellis.

Copyright Bertram Ellis 2013 Smashwords Edition.

OH WORLD

This story was first published in the TORONTO STAR NEWSPAPER a winner in the short story competition held in July 1989 later published by SPACEWAYS MAGAZINE. It may be more appropriate today than ever before.

The car was the only thing moving on the broken highway across the barren countrside. Even the black ominous clouds that covered the sky from horizon to horizon were motionless. The car travelled slowly, avoiding potholes, it’s tires rumbling on broken asphalt. Scattered across the nightmare landscape, the ruins of farm buildings jutted forlornly out of hostile, barren soil. Clump of ugly, acid weed struggled to survive in the shadow of of the broken walls.

John Adamson, the driver, was relaxed. He drove this road every night from the office, commuting home, mentally going over the sales figures, half listening to Sharon Day reading the evening news.

The car hit a pothole and shuddered, interuptinhg his thoughts. The surface seemed to get rougher every night. For some reason the township had stopped filling potholes.

The radio caught his attention.

. . .another attempt to restock the Atlantic ocean with a pollution-resistant species of fish has failed. Scientists at the Marine Research Laboratories report that most of the fish released into the sea off Newfoundland last week survived for less than 36 hours. Thousands of dead fish have been washed ashore and are rotting on the beaches. A massive cleanup operation is under way. The search continues for fish that can survive in the polluted oceans. In the meantime, Egyptian politicians complained at the United Nations that their scientist’s proposal to decontaminate the Mediterranean is being ignored for political reasons. . .

The news was interrupted by the car’s annunciator voice. Caution, replenish oxygen. Caution replenish oxygen. Caution . . . and the O2 light started flashing.

What the hell now, John exclaimed, punching the message cancel button and turning off the radio. He looked ahead, then scanned the road behind him in the rear-view mirror, The highway was deserted.

Was there enough oxygen to get home? He wasn’t sure and couldn’t afford to ganble. He experienced a moment’s indecision before common sense took over. He had to get to a service station as quickly as possible. Cursing himself for not carrying his breathing pack in the car, he switched off the air conditioner to conserve energy and swung the car around in a gravel-scattering U-turn, accelerating back to the city. It became hot almost immediately and perspiration ran down his back . He drove fast and fought to control the car on the broken roadway, his stomach a tight knot of fear. In some places the potholes had joined together to make a gash in the surface. He gritted his teeth and ploughed through them, fighting the wheel as the car lurched, throwing a cloud od dust into the still air.

He didn’t slowe down until the high rise buildings of William’s Hydroponics Farms came into view at the city limits. He raced past the long building, past the rows of radiation screen windows crowded with foliage and bright with glow-lights. The service station was in the next block. He truned into the entrance and screeched to a stop.

A car was entering the airlock.

Come on, come on, come on! You’re not driving a truck for God’s sake.

The car was moving slowly, the driver’s head turning from side to side checking the clearance, as he entered. John knew he was safe but was anxious to get inside. Wiping his face with shaking hands, he fumbled on the air conditioner and radio.

Phew! Steady on, buddy, he said to himself in a shaky voice and laughed. He barely paid attention to the final news item.

. . . from Washington. The President announced today that Amrica will lend fifteen billion dollars to the Brazilian government for a major reforestation attempt in the Amazon basin, once the world’s largest tropical rain forest. Since the land was cleared late in the last century, it has had an unhappy history. Millions of peasants eked out a marginal existence there only to perish from exposure to ultraviolet rays when depletion of the ozone layer became critical. The area known as the Brazilian badlands. . .

The entry light flashed green and the airlock opened. He drove in.

Switch off the engine. A flashing sign instructed him. There was a hiss as pol;luted air was exhausted and clean air pumped in. He waited insilence as a mobile platform raised the car. The airlock’s inner door opened and the car was carried into the servicing bay. John stepped out and took a deep breath. It was refreshing after the staleness of his car. Fountains set in flowerbeds twinkled under the lights. He ran