The Realm of The Angel

By Hugh Mortimer

Earth, 24th century; shattered by a man made cataclysm that caused tectonic plates to shift, mass extinctions, accelerated mutations of wildlife and almost obliterated humanity as a species. Only residual pockets remained save for one, The Republic of New Zealand which survived relatively unscathed and now w

• Language: English
• Publisher: Global Summit House
• Release date: Sep 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781636492247

Hugh Mortimer

I should start at the beginning. This is my first novel, conceived twenty years ago when I was a born again single and decided on an impulse to put some of my thoughts down on paper. Friends read these ideas and told me I should expand on them, so 'The Power Of Trust' was conceived.  That isn't to say I lack experience in creative writing. I've actually done this in a fashion for a very long time. I'm a sales and marketing consultant, with over thirty four years of experience; the vast majority being spent  dealing in 'Big ticket' items; houses and cars. A part of this involved creating promotions and the actual writing of advertisements ; something that always fell to me by default, wherever I worked or whatever product I was handling. It seemed I had a gift for 'Selling the sizzle, not the steak', most importantly, by creating effective advertising without resorting to exaggeration or misrepresentation. What I did worked too as I implemented many successful campaigns. As for my dealings with my clients; I did and still do love the 'One on one' interaction with them. Frankly, I took great pleasure in turning buyers who were initially wary , particularly those times when I was a dreaded used car salesman and having them leave as friends and knowing I'd helped them make decisions that perfectly suited their needs. I like to think this is reflected in my novel, and its soon to be completed follow up as it is so easy to form judgements based on individual bias without approaching situations with an open mind, ready to accept people for who they are and not what their environment purports them to be. As for my life story, it's way too long for this biography. Besides, it's the present that matters, not the mistakes I made in the past. Suffice to say that my partner, Dianne and I have been together for  nearly two decades and helped each other bring up our respective daughters. Now we are grandparents with three granddaughters  who can and do run us ragged; especially the younger two (Miss thirteen going on thirty seven is starting to become very sophisticated and wise). I have to say I love this phase of my life. Anyway, this novel, its sequel and my science fiction trilogy, par one of which is in its first draft represent the culmination of a personal goal. I hope you enjoy my works as much as I enjoyed creating them.

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The Realm of The Angel

Hugh Mortimer

Copyright © Hugh Mortimer.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review.

ISBN: 978-1-63649-225-4 (Paperback Edition)

ISBN: 978-1-63649-226-1 (Hardcover Edition)

ISBN: 978-1-63649-224-7 (E-book Edition)

Some characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Book Ordering Information

Phone Number: 347-901-4929 or 347-901-4920

Email: [e-mail]

Global Summit House

www.globalsummithouse.com

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Epilogue

Prologue

She was here,

shimmering into existence from of the blackness of the void. Jon didn’t understand how or why; neither did he care. Nothing else mattered, only the sheer impossibility of her beauty and his want to be with her. She understood, smiling with understanding and radiating her joy at coming together with him. They floated across the nameless distance; meeting, embracing, pressing their bodies together, feeling her melt somehow to become one with him. Lips met; time for one single, searing kiss...

She was gone; torn from his arms as war erupted around him. Weapons clashed, steel rang against steel, explosions shattered the darkness, screams of the dying and wounded deafened him. He fought, frantic to save her, besting men and creatures unknown as he saw her being pulled away, flailing her arms in futile attempts at freeing herself, her desperate cries heard somehow above the clamour. He saw it then; her captor; something above the fighting, something that had no form yet with a familiarity that defied comprehension. She began to disappear into the emptiness. No! He couldn’t allow that to happen. He doubled his strength, hacking at everything that stood between him and her.

He was winning. His assailants fell before him, he was gaining ground, coming closer, ever closer to her and her monstrous captor. He shouted words that weren’t heard but understood. She reached again, locking her fingers with his. Energy flowed, from him to her; he heard her unspoken cry: Find me! as reality exploded into infinite blinding force....

Shit! Jon yelled, sitting bolt upright. Then: What? casting frantic glances around the room as his sleep befuddled mind fought back to rationality. Finally That bloody dream again. He sighed, falling back on his pillows to lay there motionless for long seconds. Eventually he moved, placing hands behind his head while knowing sleep would be long in returning as his mind was racing and would take much time in settling. That’s every night this week. He mused aloud. And who are you anyway? He continued, closing his eyes to see the vision of her swim into focus, seeing the sheer perfection of her oval face with it’s emerald eyes, high cheekbones and full lips, a mane of thick, lustrous hair, the colour of a tropical sunset; all with a body that bespoke perfection of form: Who are you? He asked again, as he’d done every night since the dreams began. He didn’t know her; didn’t know anyone who even remotely resembled her in sheer beauty and he knew many beautiful women. But this one, he knew he should; no must find her. Somehow.

Yeah, right. He muttered. Find the girl of my dreams who I don’t know and aren’t likely to come across. Really? What am I doing; going through puberty again? Oh stuff it; too hard. He snarled and flung himself on to his side, there to stay awake until the first light of dawn began to cast a faint grey light into his bedroom.

* * * *

Chapter 1

(Aeyshia!!) The unspoken

voice shook her very being, instantly jerking her back to reality.

She shook her head, cleared her thoughts, aligned herself into coherence and turned to the source of the intrusion: Apologies, my mentor. She said aloud.

Where were you? Khalia asked: Definitely not where you are supposed to be. And who is that man?

I...I do not know. Aeyshia replied, somewhat abashed that she had unwittingly allowed her thoughts to be so readily accessed when individual privacy was valued above all else, especially among those of her people who were highly advanced in the workings of the metaphysical forces that were generated by their physical selves: This will not happen again; I assure you. She said and radiated assurance to give truth to her spoken words.

Khalia couldn’t help but smile: No matter. I was young once and felt such emotions many times. She told Aeyshia: Still, we do have a duty to complete our work before allowing ourselves some pairing time.

Aeyshia agreed telepathically and began returning her psychic energies to her assigned task.

But Khalia hadn’t finished playing with her just yet. Before she could finish her mind’s cleansing, an image sprung into focus. A male; tall, dark of hair and eyes, fierce of expression, body of hardened muscle, somehow feral yet desirable beyond belief:

Oh yes, very worthy of you. Khalia spoke aloud with laughter in her tone: The wild man and the healer. Almost unheard of among our society but still, I would pair with him as I see you wish to.

Pair!! Aeyshia exclaimed aloud. Khalia, I swear I have no knowledge of this man. How could I pair with someone unknown?"

Unknown? Khalia questioned: With that clarity of vision that you have of him? My dear, there must be recognition on some level within yourself. She grinned mischievously: Perhaps you possess an urge to explore beyond the pleasures you already have experienced. Such a man would make for an interesting pairing diversion. Maybe even a bond if you have this clear an image.

Really! Aeyshia rejoined: And here I am, regarding you as respectably bonded with Raman.

Yes. The older woman replied laughingly: But as I said, I was young once and enjoyed my share of pairings. So my advice to you is to play while you are unbonded. No doubt, you have already paired on more than one occasion. She repeated, radiating humour through the younger woman as she spoke.

Maybe I have. Aeyshia replied, matching Khalia’s humour with her own: Not that I care to go into details.

Of course not. Khalia agreed and stroked Aeyshia’s arm: We must have our secrets, especially we adepts. Still this unknown man of yours does appear to be worthy of such dalliances. But you must have some knowledge from where he comes? One of the less sophisticated members of the clans who live among the fringe of our people? Or... No, surely not from the world we are studying? Waving a hand at the viewing screen where a great part of the blue planet shimmered in reflected sunlight.

No... I think... Oh I cannot say. Aeyshia explained: I have never encountered him or his likeness. All I know is that this image began coming to me several periods ago; usually when I least expect and at the most inconvenient of moments.

Such as now? Khalia asked.

Such as now. Aeyshia replied: Again I apologise for my distraction and assure you....

That it will not happen again. Khalia interrupted: Forgive me for having my doubts but, despite your abilities as a healer and realising that your learning has brought you to the highest reaches of what we understand about our physical and metaphysical selves, there is still much we have yet to learn. But foremost, we need to complete our research if we are to establish a base on a world that will be compatible with our physical structure. Such as this one. Gesturing at the image again.

I understand. Aeyshia said: Still, our need must be urgent if we are considering a world our ancestors abandoned many periods ago. Especially one that appears to have undergone much turmoil in recent times.

True. Khalia agreed: But such need will be revealed to us in due course. Now, we must return to our assigned tasks. With that, she turned around and walked to her examination table.

Aeyshia did the same and went back to the bench where the figure lay, unconscious and immobile. It was a human female, naked, physically cleansed to remove external dirt and organisms that could possibly affect the examination. So much like herself. Or was she? This was the reason for this examination, to ascertain that this being from the world below did possess similarities in physical structure that, while allowing her and her kind to live on the planet, could prove potentially fatal to Aeyshia’s people.

She bent over the female, placed a hand on her temple and focused; allowing herself flow into the comatose subject. Deeper and deeper she went, exploring first every organ, arteries, veins then nerves, narrowing her probe to diagnose cellular structure, learning what was necessary to maintain growth and health, then finding DNA strands and examining the complexities that allowed this female to be who she would be when awake. Finally, before withdrawing, she studied the subjects cerebral functions, readily available even through the imposed psychic blanket of unconsciousness, Then she withdrew, turned and walked over to the bioprocessor; there to share her newly acquired knowledge with its cerebral memory banks.

And now her work was finished for the moment anyway. She turned to her superior. Aloud: Khalia, I have completed what was required of me for now. With your permission, I would like to leave and have some free time.

Oh really? Free time? Nothing to do with that handsome planetologist? Khalia asked. radiating waves of humorous emotion as she spoke: I wager he will not allow you too much free time. You go. We have completed our studies of the indigenous humans anyway and I will prepare our presentation for the conclave.

Are you certain? Aeyshia repeated: After all, this presentation is important.

We have already completed most of it anyway. You go; enjoy your man. Report to me at the assembly chamber at the beginning of the next period and we can run a final scan of our learning before we present our findings.

Thank you. Aeyshia replied gratefully and radiated an emotion of gratitude. She turned. and made to leave.

And do not allow your man to fully drain you. Khalia called out as Aeyshia left the room.

* * * *

Now, tell me again about this dream. The psych medic asked.

Jon shifted in the chair: I’ve told you everything already. He replied with a hint of exasperation.

Are you certain? The medic asked: After all, this … Dream... You just described is different from earlier ones.

I wish I never told him about the others. Jon thought: Aloud: "I’ve been as open as I can with you. Okay, the dream’s been different from what I usually have!.

Which mainly centred around a young lady being caught up in all manner of dangers with you fighting monsters while trying to save her until you wake up before touching her. Which you have already said in previous sessions has been an irregular part of your dreams for some considerable time now. The medic elaborated.

Well, it shows I’m not hiding anything. Jon snapped, becoming irked at this necessary but painful interrogation.

Not that you could be anything else. The medic said in that neutral tone that Jon realised was necessary in his occupation but privately found it annoying. Besides he fully understood the futility of trying to lie or conceal details as the medical scanners would detect and analyse discrepancies in his biorhythms and cerebral activity that would be inconsistent with what was on file and show he was fabricating stories.

The medic glanced at the desk screen again, then back at Jon: Yes, there’s nothing here to suggest otherwise. He said: In fact, there’s nothing to suggest any abnormalities, either physical or emotional that would inhibit your continuing deployment within our security forces.

But as we both know my service is now finished. So can I go now. Jon asked, making to get up.

Almost. The medic replied: I do understand you are due in the arena later today and need to warm up. But you are still a key member of our Pathfinder corps and it is important that, since you are an agent for the New Zealand Republic, as well as identifying potential recycling sites, you monitor the activities of the primitives beyond the umbrella...

Yeah, I know. Jon interrupted: Field agents need to be physically and emotionally stable. And preferably not have dependents or loved ones here. Well; that’s me. I don’t have a partner or kids and my parents were killed last year when that antique fossil fuel powered transporter...’Holden’, they called it and loved so much, decided to snap it’s steering shaft and go over a cliff.

My condolences on your loss. The medic said.

Thanks. Jon replied, stood up and extended his hand for the other to shake: Wish me luck for the bout. He said and made to leave.

You’d better win. The medic said and grinned: I’ve bet my month’s beer allowance on you.

Jon gave him a thumbs up, grinned back and left the office.

His opponent, Bosun Artemis Grigg, known as ‘ Bruiser’ and representing the pride of the Republic’s Naval Patrol was, as Jon had quickly discovered, stronger and heavier than him. Clever too, he’d almost had Jon twice already and they were only three rounds into the bout. But Jon was clever too; at least he thought so. True, the other had the advantage in size and strength but Jon had used the time wisely, analysing strengths and weaknesses, using a defensive strategy that the judges may have mistook for weakness.

The bell rang to signify the end of the round. Both fighters touched gloves and returned to their respective corners. Jon sat heavily on the school, partly oblivious to the trainers’ ministrations and his trainer’s yelled instructions as he tried to make himself heard above the roar of the crowd. Jon did catch snatches: ...Use your speed... Don’t let him get close... Make him wear himself out...

That’s what I’m doing! Jon tried to say as the protector guard was forced back into his mouth; just as the bell sounded for the start of round five of the this, the Republic of New Zealand Freestyle Martial Arts Championship.

Both men walked towards each other, waving their fists, circling, looking for an opening in the others’ defence.: Now! Jon thought, affecting to miss with a jab. True to form, Bruiser pressed what he thought was the advantage, only to have Jon follow up with a standing front drop kick to the legs that sent him crashing to the mat. Instantly, Jon leapt on top, trapping an arm and rolling Bruiser over into an arm bar hold, leaning back with all his strength until there came the sound of a hand tapping the mat in a gesture of submission; followed by the referee, patting Jon’s shoulder to signify he’d won. Jon released his grip, sprang to his feet and ran around the ring, acknowledging the crowd’s rapturous applause, then to his corner men, over to the other corner to accept the congratulations of the opposition’s seconds, finally to have the referee have both men stand between both fighters so that the judges could formalise the decision and hold Jon’s arm aloft in victory.

Man, you are good. Bruiser acknowledged as both men embraced.

Thanks. Jon panted: You’re pretty tasty, yourself.

Next time, you won’t be so lucky. Bruiser warned.

Maybe. Maybe not. Jon replied: Look forward to it though.

One hour later. Jon had showered, had some cuts and bruises attended to by his team’s medic; changed and was ready to leave and meet the others to celebrate his championship victory. Until the door opened and...: You! Jon exclaimed.

That’s ‘You, Sir’! Colonel Jefferson replied and entered the room.

Not at the moment. Jon replied: If you remember, I did a lot of overseas service in the Rangers and earned many credits Now for a while at least, I’m the highest rank of all. Civilian.

That joke was old before the Event and the world had a lot more people than now. Colonel Jefferson replied, ignoring Jon’s sarcasm: Sit down, please. He added, doing likewise and motioned to a bench.

Sorry, Colonel; I’d love to stay and catch up on good times but there are people I need to meet. In case you missed it, I just won the Republic’s Freestyle MMA Championship which makes me the best in the world and has given me many more credits, all of which I fully intend to use up.

Not that there’s much of a world since the Event. Colonel Jefferson said off handedly: But you will stay and hear me out. Now, sit. Please.

Will I now. Jon replied with heavy irony but sitting, nonetheless. He faced Colonel William Jefferson, Jon’s former CO and who headed up the Republic’s security services: Okay, you have five minutes. He told the other: Since I assume you didn’t come here to congratulate me, then what do you want?

You. Colonel Jefferson replied..

Me? Jon snorted: What, back in the Corps again? Give me a break I’ve had enough of pretending to be a primitive while looking for the Event’s leftovers our salvage guys can use."

I appreciate that. The Colonel said: Unfortunately, a situation has arisen that may or may not pose a direct threat to the Republic and as a result, we need to obtain a lot of intelligence in a very short period of time.

Okay, that’s not good. Jon agreed: But what’s that got to do with me?

Quite a lot. The Colonel told him: You were the best ranger the Republic’s Pathfinder Corps ever had. You have the ability to think on your feet, analyse any situation and are perfectly capable of extricating yourself from any threat without causing any harm to yourself or innocent bystanders. Plus you have a talent for picking up local dialects. Oh and you can fight too, with or without weapons.

So?

So as of yesterday, your position as a Reservist in the Pathfinders has been rescinded and you are now on active duty as a field agent.

What?? Jon shouted., springing to his feet: You can’t do that!

I can and I have. Colonel Jefferson repeated: But I have seen that you are now promoted to the rank of First Leftenant.

Fuck your First Leftenant! Jon yelled, turning purple with rage: And fuck you too!

That’s ‘Fuck you, too, Sir’. The Colonel said dryly: You are fully aware that no one and I mean no one is ever completely released from their compulsory national service.

I know that. Jon snapped: But I’ve done plenty already, mostly in shitholes that held what’s left of humanity. I just want a bit of quality living for a while. Is that too hard to ask?

At the moment, yes! Colonel Jefferson said: Believe me when I say this isn’t what I want for you but we have no choice.

Yeah, right. Jon sneered.

It is a matter of national security which I don’t care to explain here. Colonel Jefferson told him:

And as you were and still are regarded as the best field agent this country has ever had, we at High Command made the decision to recall you to active service.

Like there aren’t other field agents who can do the job? Jon asked though his voice dripped with heavy sarcasm.

There are but not with your particular skill set. The colonel said, paying no mind to Jon’s attitude: This is a matter of extreme importance otherwise you’d be left alone to enjoy your life of fighting, fucking and playing your antique geetar; not necessarily in that order. So, that’s all I can say for the moment; Leftenant. Now you can go and enjoy your victory with your team. Just don’t party too hard; you’ll need to be alert tomorrow morning.

Tomorrow? Jon squeaked: Shit, I’ve only been on leave for two weeks. Can’t I at least have some more free time?

No. The colonel said firmly: This is a matter that won’t wait. A capsule will collect you in the morning and bring you to us. It’s military grade and security coded to level ten which means even you can’t fiddle with the overrides. We will see you then. No, you don’t need to salute. He added, getting up and leaving, Jon did salute but Colonel Jefferson didn’t see which was just as well as it wasn’t considered to be respectful.

* * * *

They writhed together in kaleidoscopic patterns of orgasmic energy. Sensations flooded through erogenous zones, causing electric sparks of passionate longing to thrill into cerebral portions of higher brain functions, turning coherence into striving for orgasmic release.

Until: (Aeyshia! Where are you?)

Aeyshia snapped out of her erotic funk; jerked backwards so their foreheads were no longer touching. Her hands released his, she opened her eyes to see Apollo’s beautiful face regarding her with an expression of both concern and mystification:

* * * *

I repeat; where are you? He spoke aloud: Certainly not in the moment with me. Please explain.

I...I cannot... Aeyshia struggled to reply although her own thoughts whirled in frantic confusion. In truth, she had been looking forward to pairing with this young master of planetary ecosystems and who was much desired by women throughout the nations. It should have been joyous, but:

Again, I ask. Where were you? Who is that man? Apollo demanded: What rudeness you show; pairing with me whilst imaging another. If he is one you wish to pair with, then why are you not with him?

Aeyshia’s senses were returning to pre orgasmic sanity, faster with each passing moment as she was using her learning as a healer to accelerate the process. She uncrossed her legs and stood to face him; he had already done so: Apollo I am so very sorry. She explained and infused him with a wave of sincere remorse: I have been so anxious to pair with you. I cannot understand what has happened.

I can. Apollo retorted angrily; the emotion causing Aeyshia to recoil slightly: I reject your statement that you were anxious to pair with me. This should never have happened. Perhaps you truly need to seek this object of your desire and satisfy yourself with him. His tone, both vocal and subliminal, radiated unpleasantness and jealousy.

Apollo, I swear there is no such man. Aeyshia explained, understanding his frustration: I have never encountered him, not anywhere among our people or those of the other nations. I cannot explain how he is imprinted in my subconsciousness.

Well, you must have somewhere to have such clarity of image. Apollo said: Perhaps he lives among those indigenous inhabitants of the world below. You did venture to the surface, did you not?

Only to collect specimens for study and analysis. Aeyshia told him: We were careful not to take unnecessary risks with the task so everything was done when the locations were in darkness and the test subjects were discovered alone. I never saw any of them clearly until we began our own examinations."

None were your unknown man?

None. Aeyshia affirmed: This is strange. Unsettling too. I must leave and restore my body’s normal frequency. I fear I am misaligned at this moment. She made to leave.

Aeyshia; wait. Apollo half asked, half ordered. She turned back to him: You are aware that such dysfunctions would affect your ability to perform your assigned tasks and I have a duty to report such to our seniors.

You would?? Aeyshia gasped on all levels, almost causing her would be lover to recoil from their intensity.

Do I have a choice? He replied: This is serious.

But I am one of the best healers among us. She said aloud, urgently: I completed my learning at the very top level of my classmates. My work has been exemplary. Please...

Oh calm yourself. He said and enclosed her in a veil of reassurance: I am only playing with you. I understand the importance of your work and will keep this matter between us alone. Of course, once you have cleansed your thoughts of this fantasy, I expect payment by way of gratitude.

Payment?

Correct. You are in my debt since I am now unfulfilled. He said and grinned with what he passed for lechery: I expect another pairing with you, the instant your mind is clear. That is the bargain we will make.

That is the bargain. Aeyshia agreed and radiated her own gratitude, mixed with a hint of desire.

Apollo came over and took her hands in his: Then, soon. He said: You are the most desirable of women and I cannot wait to pair with you. He leaned over and touched his forehead to hers: Now go; align yourself before I pair with you here and now.

I am gone. Aeyshia replied laughingly, extricating her hands and stepping away from him and the lustful aura that he was infusing her with.

Her thoughts raced as she made her way to her chamber. In truth, Apollo was the most desired of men with his blonde thatch of hair and face that could be almost considered beautiful had it not been for his hardened muscular body that radiated power. That alone should have been sufficient for her to thrill with want of pairing with him but he was also gifted with incredible analytic and far sensing abilities that could provide an excellent choice for a bonding partner. It was her choice after all, as was the right of every woman. Maybe she could consider him; she was at the age where this would be acceptable. But was she truly ready for such a commitment?

And who is this fantasy image that persistently impregnated her consciousness. Again, as if on cue, the dark haired feral man, as handsome in his own way as Apollo, flashed into focus behind her eyes; clearer now than ever before.

This time the image took considerable effort to banish. But she succeeded eventually even if she forced herself to focus on stored memories of the test subjects’ examinations, preparing herself for the conclave that was convened for three periods time.

* * * *

Level ten security, eh? Jon said to himself as the unit sped silently along the causeway towards New Auckland, the Republic’s central city, silent but for the slight hissing of the electro magnetic drive’s pulses against the causeway’s surface: Don’t tamper with it, you won’t succeed. Pity it isn’t Jon proof. He added, risking a glance down at where the security coded self drive console used to be, now a jumble of cables and wiring that emitted slight sparks while the drive train was engaged: Oh dear! He thought, knowing that this will mean a lot of work for an auto tech and usually Jon would find himself in trouble for vandalising this state of the art machine. But, since he was so necessary for whatever comprised this mission, he felt confident the brass would overlook his little transgression. Besides, he liked to drive. Loved it in fact, as much as he hated not being in control of anything that moved under its own power. Anyway he knew where to go so that wasn’t a problem.

Driving helped to clear his head too; especially as he’d partied hard, last night. Sort of partied, that was; his crew weren’t happy when he told them about being recalled to active duty. True, it was a requirement of every citizen of the Republic who reaches the age of twenty to undergo two years’ military training in the corps of their choice ( If the powers that be permit them to actually pick the corps of their choice) followed by a ten year period where they could be recalled for active duty in the event of a threat to national security. In Jon’s case, he had made the idea, years earlier, of requesting the Pathfinder Corps as he thought he could like to experience what was happening in the world beyond Republic. A mistake, he realised, as he found himself signing on for five years instead of two and still had to submit to the ten year reservist period. So here he was, skimming along the causeway, towards something he knew nothing about but did partly rationalise that it must be a matter of extreme importance for him to be dragged back into active service. And there was something else tickling the back of his mind; unknown but giving the sensation he should learn more about what they wanted of him.

Anyway, last night wasn’t as good as he’d hoped. Lots of beer, good friends and a whole retinue of new ones who wanted to suck up to him, now that he was famous. Then there was that girl, the one he’d chatted up and finished the night in bed with her. What was her name again, he wondered for a moment. Yes, Miranda Fragglegot or something like that. Definitely ‘Miranda’ though. She was gorgeous, all blonde curls, a smile her dentist would be proud of, and most importantly, big tits and soft curves. He did want her, couldn’t wait to get her into bed.

So what went wrong? He didn’t understand. One second he had this beautiful blonde writhing passionately under him, the next his dream girl clinging to his body, consumed with carnal longing. And he wanted her too; so much. They melted into each other, lost in their all consuming passion. Until...

Get...Off …Me... Miranda grunted and tried to extricate herself from under him.

What...? What...? Jon gasped as reality hit with blinding intensity: Wait! Where are you going? Miranda had climbed out of the bed and begun to dress,

You bastard! She gasped furiously, picked up a pillow and threw it at him with enough force that, had it been anything harder, might have caused some damage: You hateful man! She hissed furiously.

What? What did I do? Jon repeated, not comprehending what was happening.

If you want her so badly, then go get her! Miranda spat: Don’t use me as a plaything just because your...Alesha...Isn’t here for you to fuck!

Alesha? I don’t know any Alesha! Jon stammered:

Bullshit! Miranda cried: You called out her name enough times. How do you think that makes me feel?

I understand! Jon tried to reason with her: But I swear I don’t...

Oh go to Hell!!! Miranda shouted, turned and exited the room, closing the door with enough force to register on seismology charts...

Oh stuff it. Jon said to the windscreen and turned his attention to driving the capsule as he exited the freeway and on to the main thoroughfare of New Auckland.

He drove through the town centre, turned and headed to the port where the relics of the colonist fleet were moored. Only three were preserved; the cruise liner, ‘Pacific Dawn’, the former Australian Navy destroyer, ‘HMAS Adelaide’ and, most importantly, the aircraft carrier, ‘USS Lincoln’ the flagship and only survivor of the old United States Navy’s South Pacific fleet; their metal hulls electrostatically polarised as a preservative against salt water and atmospheric corrosion. Although the liner was saved for it’s historic value and to serve as accommodation for the security forces, the carrier and destroyer still functioned as their systems were, at the time, considered to be state of the art and it had been decided long ago that it would be more efficient to keep upgrading them rather than continual rebuilding in shore based locations.

The admissions clerk wasn’t all that helpful though: May I help you. Sir? she inquired officiously. As Jon reached the reception booth at the bottom of the causeway that led to the ship.

Leftenant Jon Te Kawa for Colonel Jefferson. Jon replied and flashed a disarming smile: Pass the retina scanner please so I can validate my identity.

Leftenant Te Kawa. She sniffed: And you are in service? As she handed the scanner to him.

Correct. Freshly recycled. Jon replied.

May I ask why you are not in uniform? She asked haughtily while motioning to the two security guards to come over.

You may but you won’t like the answer. Jon replied sarcastically: See, this proves I am me. Handing the scanner back to her and noting her sudden change of demeanour: Now ‘Corporal’, I suggest you contact Colonel Jefferson and inform him I have arrived. You two. Motioning to the guards: Take me up to his office. No, don’t salute. As both men snapped to attention.

The colonel was waiting outside his office for Jon: Come with me. He ordered, waving dismissively at the guards and hurrying down the corridor to where Jon assumed was some sort of boardroom.

It was. Others were waiting, some in uniform, some clearly civilians who Jon assumed were either high ranking civil servants or parliamentarians or both. One he did recognise though; Admiral Harry Palmer; head of National Security and the ranking military officer in all branches of service. He walked over to Jon and extended a hand: Welcome Leftenant. He said and shook Jon’s hand in greeting: Congratulations on your championship victory and good to have you back with us.

Colonel Jefferson’s subtle jab in Jon’s ribs distracted him from immediately coming back with a sarcastic retort and allowed Admiral Palmer a chance to continue: There’s a lot we need to show you and the sooner the better. Commander Bailey, would you bring us up to speed please?

Certainly, Admiral. One of the other officers, a short, balding, nondescript, public servant type picked up a remote control unit and pointed it at a console that was embedded in the board table. Instantly, a holographic globe of the planet shimmered into view. I should start at the beginning, he said. As you learned in school, approximately three hundred or so years ago, the world was vastly different to what it is now Technologically advanced, true enough but there were widespread famines, oppressive regimes, wars, wave after wave of pandemics, all of which caused the death of untold millions. As he spoke the image slowly rotated to show the continents as they were back then. Yet still the vast majority of our ancestors not only thrived, they prospered. That was until what we now call the Event happened. Now, let us concentrate on a part of what was Europe. The globe expanded and zoomed in on that particular land mass. We know there was a massive physics experiment being undertaken at that time; a cyclotron named the Hadron Collider which was designed to create subatomic particles. One, in particular, came to be known as the Higgs Boson particle or to use its common name, the God particle.

There were murmurs among those present as they recalled history lessons from their youth. Commander Bailey went on: We know the world back then was a bad place to live in, what with everything I have just explained. Then there were the so called religious ‘Soldiers’ blowing themselves up in public places or crashing transporters into crowds and killing innocents in the name of an all powerful deity. Images floated around the globe, frightening archive footage of wrecked vehicles, shattered buildings and mangled bodies of people who had been going about their peaceful lives. Again, murmurs rippled through the room, this time of disgust.

Those images vanished, replaced by an image of the Hadron Collider cyclotron: This machine was intended to be used to generate sub atomic particles and study their potential uses for mankind’s benefit. He continued: Until a group of those so called ‘Soldiers’ decided that their deity would appreciate it if the cyclotron was blown up.

Which they did. Admiral Palmer confirmed: They managed to break in and set off their bomb just as one of those God particles was created. And we all know the outcome.

Exactly. The Commander replied: In essence, this. As he spoke, a flash appeared on a part of the holographic image that used to be Switzerland...: Followed by this. And they all watched as a wave of unimaginable power swept out in a lightning fast circle to encompass almost all of the northern hemisphere along with a good deal of the south, encircling most of the planet before crashing back on itself.

That was just the beginning. Commander Bailey continued: The destruction was far beyond anything ever known. Whole countries were obliterated as tectonic plates moved and altered the continents and what wasn’t destroyed by the resulting earthquakes was washed clean by tsunamis that were unbelievably high and fast moving. As most of the developed world had their population centres near the coastal areas, they fared worst of all and the few people who survived in any particular spot weren’t enough to maintain any higher standard of living without outside help, which of course, never came. Eventually most survivors succumbed to plague diseases caused by the billions of rotting bodies, human and animal. In short, stupidity almost caused a mass extinction of all life and a lot of what remained was affected by fallout from the Event’s radiation, causing rapid mutations among many species.

But we survived somehow. Another an the assembly stated.

Somehow. The Commander agreed: It was fortunate our ancestors were for the most part, on these ships like the one we’re on now.. Those tsunamis wreaked havoc along shorelines and islands but not out in mid ocean where they would be nothing more than rising waters that ships could ride over like corks. It took some years for the flotilla to come together but we did and eventually came to land here in New Zealand which you all know was one of the few places on the planet that actually benefited from the catastrophe as its tectonic plate shifted to a more stable alignment. So here we are now; the most advanced culture among what’s left of the world and choosing to remain in complete isolation from everywhere else.

So what’s this got to do with me? Jon asked.

You will see, Leftenant. Commander please continue. Admiral Palmer directed.

Thank you, Admiral. The Commander said and turned to direct their attention back to the hologram: Now, as we remember, this was a mass extinction event. Or so we thought. Puzzled comments were uttered from several of those in attendance: Now I would like to hand over to Specialist Underhill, who has further information. With that he handed the control over to the officer in charge of aerial surveillance and stepped back to join the others.

Thank you, Commander. The Specialist acknowledged and turned her attention back to the holographic image. She gestured with the scanner and orange spots flashed at intermittent points of the remaining land masses: These represent the vestiges of humanity that we know of. She told them: Small groups of people, mostly living at what could be described as a subsistence level as, apart from us their groups were too small and scattered to sustain a high level of civilisation. Or so we thought until now.

Now? Several of the attendees muttered, not in unison.

There has been a development. She went on: You all are aware that in pre Event times, many of the larger extinct nations made use of artificial satellites for communication purposes, both military and civilian. Also, there were some designed as weapons and surveillance Most eventually reached their limits of operation and burnt up in our atmosphere but many others are still in orbit around our planet and, surprisingly, some are still operational.

Have the upgrades worked? Admiral Palmer asked.

Partially, sir. She replied: Our own satellite enabled us to extend our range and as such, we gained control of three that orbit the northern hemisphere; one of which I believe to be one of many so called spy satellites that were used by the old USA to monitor ground activity in countries they considered to be potential enemies as there were many conflicts in pre Event times. Of the other two, one is a weather satellite that we have deployed to give our operatives beyond the umbrella more effective communication over far greater distances while the third is still being assessed. But it was while we were testing the first that we found this. With that, she pressed a button on the remote, causing the hologram to vanish and replaced with an overhead aerial view of what appeared to be a large town, one which Jon instantly recognised.

Steamers! He exclaimed. Then: Sorry. Realising he’d inadvertently interrupted her.

Forgiven, Leftenant. She replied: Yes, I believe that’s their colloquial name. Note they have re learned the use of steam traction machines, among other machinery. Using a laser pointer to show a diversity of vehicles trundling along dirt covered roads and carriage ways.

And how to pollute everything. Jon added under his breath as the vision also showed great black clouds of smoke billowing from what appeared to be factories as well as the transporters.

The specialist turned to the group: Colonel Jefferson, it was your rangers who first brought this civilisation to our attention, Could you elaborate of what we already know?

Of course. Colonel Jefferson agreed. He stepped over and faced the group: We came to hear of the Steamers several years ago through stories told to our field agents by sailors and fishermen. They are virtually the other side of the world from us so at we elected not to investigate too closely as it wouldn’t have been worth the effort trying to salvage any recyclables from that great a distance, especially when there’s so much available that’s much closer. We did have a long range drone do a flyover and from that we could see that they appeared to be a peaceful people, possibly brought together in similar circumstances to our own although not with our level of technology. Unfortunately the distance proved too great for a return flight but we managed to make a few passes and collected these images. The view changed to display a series of images of what would have been considered a pre millennium civilisation in the style of the North American and Australian frontier towns if it hadn’t been for the proliferation of steam and pedal powered vehicles.

Thank you, Colonel. Admiral Palmer said and turned to the group: To elaborate; as you all know, it has been the Republic’s policy to remain in isolation from the rest of the world. We never wanted to become involved in outsiders’ affairs; neither do we want to become targets for would be refugees. That’s why we created the umbrella so that we can be protected from outside radar and other scanners and formed the Pathfinders to infiltrate those surviving outposts and learn of any potential threats to us and that is the way we will remain. Leftenant, you are wondering, of course, what this has to do with you. This to Jon.

It had crossed my mind...Sir. Again with that slight pause.

Not a lover of authority are you. Admiral Palmer said levelly: But that doesn’t matter for now. Colonel, how long ago were those drone images taken?

About eight years." Colonel Jefferson told them.

Now, Leftenant, this is the reason you have been recalled. The Admiral said and turned to the Surveillance Officer: Specialist, please activate the image of what we found last week.

She obeyed and they watched as the image shimmered and changed, blurred at first until...

What the? Someone exclaimed as a collective gasp sped through the room.

Bloody Hell! Jon exclaimed, louder than intended and, despite himself, leaned forward to inspect the image more closely.

It was a ship but unlike anything he’d ever seen before. About thirty five metres in length with a beam approximately half that. It appeared to have a broad, shallow draft, suitable for river or lake usage, but it was the propulsion system that caught everyone’s interest. Although having two masts with sails, there was a smokestack rising from the cabin amidships that was clearly emitting smoke and fumes from what had to be a boiler located below. Two large paddle wheels, either side were slowly rotating to show what the boiler was intended to power.

Jon glanced over to the Specialist: Steamers? He asked.

Yes. She replied: Somehow this managed to sail halfway around the world to the far edge of the Pacific Ocean where it bounced off the umbrella and one of our patrol hydros intercepted it.

Incredible. Jon said; impressed as he studied the weather ravaged craft: Terrific bit of navigation.

Especially when you consider they had no charts save for some of the waterways from their homeland. Admiral Palmer told them: But don’t feel admiration for them. They were firing cannonballs at some fishers from the Queensland Islands, presumably trying to sink them.

What for? Jon asked.

We aren’t sure yet. The Admiral told him: It’s difficult communicating with them although our linguistics experts worked out they were speaking in a dialect formed out of old English. From there we were able to learn they come from a part of the world that’s ruled over by an entity called ‘The Angel’ which has absolute control over everyone.

The Steamers appear to be expanding their empire under this ‘Angel’. Colonel Jefferson told everyone: As such we have deployed the spy satellite we just spoke about over the region where what appears to be the centre of their activities. Specialist, can we get a live feed?

We can. Sir and I’ll do that now. She acknowledged and worked the remote to bring up the images.

It was much the same as before with steam powered vehicles chuffing their way along busy thoroughfares but now there were others; gangs of people; men, women and children chained together, shuffling along and herded by uniformed men who were freely whipping those who stumbled or lagged behind. Others who weren’t restrained made their way past, carefully avoiding any form of contact with these overlords. Suddenly, the prisoners were made to stop and kneel, all facing in one direction.

Quick! Colonel Jefferson said: Commander, can you rotate the view to see what they are being made to face?

Yes Colonel. The Commander replied and they watched as the image moved, to...

There! Colonel Jefferson barked: Stop there.

She did and the image now showed a huge statue, cloaked and