Rekindling of Hope

By Doug Lavers

It is the year 2022. Planet Earth is in serious trouble, and an alien superintelligence called the Bearing has decided to intervene to stop humanity from imploding. The story traces the political and geophysical issues at play, while following the emotional lives of three key people involved in the plan to avoid disaster and save mankind in this dramatic science fiction novel.

A story of political warfare, shifting geographical and scientific schools of thought, sabotage, love, and a journey to worldwide reform, Rekindling of Hope promises nothing less than a spectacular view into the impending future of planet Earth, if completely new political and economic reforms cannot be achieved in time.

The book should be taken as a warning of what might happen if current political and economic problems are not addressed effectively.

This is the first book in the Rejuvenation Trilogy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing Singapore
• Release date: Aug 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781482824209

Doug Lavers

An Oxford graduate and retired financial executive, author Doug Lavers used his wealth of knowledge and experience to write the Rejuvenation Series. After originally reading chemistry with a topic in solid-state physics for his thesis, Doug worked at a stock broker’s office for a several years before taking an MBA. He went on to work as an engineering cost analyst and later a money market dealer at Ford’s Research and Engineering Centre. He moved to the South Coast of England, where he met his wife, and the two relocated to Melbourne, Australia. Doug held a number of senior positions in the finance industry before becoming a financial planner. Now retired, he enjoys playing bridge, gardening, reading, travel, and debating green and ecological issues with his daughter.

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Copyright © 2014 by Doug Lavers.

ISBN:          Softcover          978-1-4828-2419-3

                   eBook              978-1-4828-2420-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or events is unintentional except where required for historical background.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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CONTENTS

Acknowledgement

Prelude

Chapter 1   Normality

Chapter 2   Intervention

Chapter 3   Habitat

Chapter 4   The Reserve

Chapter 5   End Of Innocence

Chapter 6   Communication And Start

Chapter 7   Government Reaction

Chapter 8   Return To Melbourne

Chapter 9   Reporters

Chapter 10 Reintroduction At The Institute

Chapter 11 Reporting In Brazil

Chapter 12 The China Sea Difficulty

Chapter 13 Midwinter Celebration

Chapter 14 Nemesis In Pakistan

Chapter 15 Breakdown

Chapter 16 Changes To Lives

Chapter 17 Wedding

Chapter 18 Background Politics

Chapter 19 Fusion Power

Chapter 20 Disaster In The Mediterranean

Chapter 21 Egypt

Chapter 22 Domestic Matters

Chapter 23 Return To Brazil

Chapter 24 Brazilian Agriculture

Chapter 25 Whistler

Chapter 26 Entry To North America

Chapter 27 Environmental Protection Agency

Chapter 28 Changes To The System

Chapter 29 China

Chapter 30 Almost The End

Chapter 31 Fulfilment

About The Author

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

T he assistance of Mark Cammiss, Alan Colling, Richard Emery, and my daughter Kat Lavers is gratefully acknowledged. Design of the cover by Nick Root was greatly appreciated.

This book could never have been written without the tolerance and help of my wife, Gill.

Melbourne, October 2013.

Book 1 Rejuvenation Series ©

Revised October 2013

PRELUDE

T he communal intelligence known as the Bearing was considering a small water-based planet on an outer spiral arm of the galaxy. The promising major intelligent species of the planet had reached a sufficiently high level of technology to approach the star-faring threshold, but local conditions made it unlikely that its development would continue. In any case, xenophobic species were now inhabiting the galaxy in sufficient numbers to make it unlikely that any new species would achieve that threshold without being noticed and suppressed. The Bearing felt a need for a continuing flow of interesting new species to re-energize their community, and this appeared unlikely in these circumstances.

The Bearing decided to change their policy; they would intervene directly.

CHAPTER 1

Normality

P eter Wilson sighed, and relaxed back on the sofa. Having passed his seventieth birthday, he could look back on a relatively interesting life. At the beginning of his career, he had read chemistry at Oxford University for four years as a Rhodes Scholar from Australia. The final year of this course was the preparation of a thesis on an obscure organic material. He had debated with himself whether to complete a doctorate, but in the end a mixture of boredom and economic necessity forced him to start a career with a chemical company. It had provided some useful training, but a view that the grass was always greener somewhere else had led him to resign several years later and join an oil company as a graduate trainee.

The company had a policy of moving people around, and Peter soon found himself located in Stockholm.

He had not particularly liked the Swedes he had met – they seemed to be the embodiment of a cold Northern people. On reflection, he decided that it was perhaps his own arrogance showing, in that he always assumed they would speak English.

Following this thought logically, he decided to learn Swedish at some external classes provided at Stockholm University.

After his first class, he wandered down to the cafeteria for some refreshment.

Damn! he said, as he turned away from the counter and his coffee collided with the arm of a tall slim girl, showering down her dress.

I’m terribly sorry he said, deeply mortified, I’ll pay to have your dress cleaned or replaced.

The girl looked annoyed – it was amongst her few reasonable dresses – but relented on seeing the distress on his face.

She said, I need to visit the washroom for a few minutes to remove the worst of the stain.

The hint of a slightly impish smile appeared, "In the meantime, I like my coffee white with no sugar, together with a slice of orange cake!

We will discuss retribution when I return! My name is Irene Beckstrom. Please to introduce yourself?

Peter felt his spirits lift; he returned to the counter and ordered the suggested items, plus a refresh for his own coffee.

When Irene returned, the worst of the stains had been removed but her dress was quite damp. He discovered that she was a statistics and nutrition student, close to completing her course.

An hour or so later, he was shocked at how easily the time had passed.

I’m so sorry to have kept you here talking, Irene; you must have been quite uncomfortable in that damp dress. Please let me order a taxi and take you home.

On the way to the block of flats where she lived, he said slightly diffidently "I don’t know whether you’re interested, but there is a film on this weekend called ‘The Godfather’ which I would like to see. Would you be interested in coming as well?

If you would like that, please give me a call tomorrow. Here is a business card with my number on it.

Irene had actually seen the film, but decided that was not worth mentioning.

She took the card, and said demurely I’ll give you a call tomorrow, Peter.

Back in the small flat she asked her flatmate what ‘M.A. (Oxon)’ meant.

Her flatmate said with a smile, "I’m envious! You’ve obviously come across an Oxford graduate.

What’s he like?

*     *     *

Irene spent a long time grooming herself. She was ready quite a long time before Peter arrived on the Saturday afternoon to collect her at the front entrance of the block of flats where she lived. She was quite nervous when he arrived. So was her date.

After the film, he took her to an upmarket restaurant on the Stockholm waterfront. It had been a long time since she had been anywhere as good.

Over the next three months, Peter started taking her out regularly. She was coming up to her final examinations, and he noticed that she was starting to look quite strained.

He told her, As soon as you have finished your final examination, we’ll go somewhere nice to celebrate!

She looked at him and smiled. I’ve got a better idea. You know I mentioned my parents have a farm in southern Sweden? They will be away then, with my baby sister.

She looked at him a little shyly. There is a small guest cabin by our lake.

*     *     *

They were married three months later.

Irene discovered that being the wife of an oil executive involved regular movement.

Travelling around from country to country, Peter began to acquire the background knowledge of countries which would stand him in good stead in the future.

His wife was enormously supportive, which was just as well as the job and sometimes the countries where they lived were quite stressful.

Talking to Irene one evening, he said "Darling, we have now lived in seven countries in fifteen years. Nearly all those countries are showing huge signs of stress, and if I was being pessimistic I would say the outlook is downright depressing.

Overpopulation, impoverishment and ill health are leading to the growth of extremism. I wonder where this is all going to end.

*     *     *

Perhaps fortunately for the couple, there were no children. Eventually they retired back to Melbourne.

The deciding factor was that her much younger sister Valerie Hertzberg had emigrated to Australia more than a decade previously.

Valerie now lived in the Dandenong Ranges on the edge of the town with her husband John and their ten-year-old daughter Zoë. Irene had little difficulty persuading Peter to buy a small house on a relatively large block close to her sister. Most of the area was covered with tall mountain ash trees, but the area around the house had been cleared for about fifty metres in every direction. Peter worried sometimes that a bad fire would take out the house, but well-located deciduous trees and a large sprinkler system had at least alleviated the risk.

To his terrible distress, two years later Irene suddenly died from a stroke. It took him nearly a year to regain some sense of balance. It was steady support from Irene’s family which had been a major contributor to this, and particularly from their daughter.

*     *     *

He finished a light lunch, and sat back on his sofa with his customary coffee, feeling quite sleepy.

His half-dozing thoughts were interrupted by a sharp rap on the front door, and a cheery Hi Grandad!

Zoë had arrived; she had discovered that Peter played chess, and having outclassed all the competition at the local school, felt that he was an excellent substitute to take her study of the game a little further. Personally, Peter felt that someone younger would be more fun for her, but he was happy to play with her. In actual fact, he enjoyed her company and her lively and intelligent personality. Although she had a serious disposition, when she relaxed she had an alarming ability to penetrate to the core of a question. Her description of some of the local politicians had been both insightful and funny. He doubted that some of the local papers’ columnists could have done a better job of character assassination. He suspected that her name for him—Grandad—was a subtle dig, uncle being a better description of his relationship to her.

Today, as usual, Zoë had bounced in and headed straight for the chessboard and its pieces. Placing them, she said, Black or white?

Half an hour later, most of the pieces on the board having been eliminated, Peter toppled his king.

Well played, Zoë. Either you are getting steadily better, or my brain is starting to atrophy!

Nonsense, Grandad, I just had a good opening and you never recovered. I think Dad took you on too long a walk this morning—he said you were limping slightly.

There was a faint sign of concern on her face, her big blue eyes looking at him seriously.

You might be right, Zoë. My knee and back were hurting a bit. I think my arthritis is definitely getting worse.

Peter put on some light classical music, which Zoë seemed to think was at least acceptable, and the conversation wandered off onto more important matters, such as who was going to win the football, and which local film would be worth seeing.

After she had left, at around four o’clock, Peter reflected that he had come to know her really well over the past three years. She had been surprisingly supportive when his wife had died; she and her parents had been a major factor in helping him recover from his initial shock and depression.

When Zoë arrived home, Valerie greeted her cheerfully, Did you have a good game?

Yes, Mum, although Grandad nearly got me. I trapped him in the end with a neat fork.

Valerie smiled. He really enjoys seeing you there. I suspect that the place is a bit too quiet for him.

Zoë looked thoughtful for a moment. I think you’re right, but I like being there. Unlike most grown-ups I know, he is easy to talk to. I think his views are a bit right wing sometimes, but he probably thinks mine are too green and left wing. Makes for good arguments!

As she watched Zoë disappear off to her room—her homework probably needed some attention—Valerie reflected that Peter seemed to be a good influence on her daughter. She wondered if Zoë’s increasing interest in maths and physics resulted from conversations with her uncle, and his careful attempts to explain why the natural world was so interesting. She had no fears for Zoë’s academic future—her daughter remained at the top of her class with seemingly little effort. In fact, she frequently complained of being utterly bored by the rate of progress of the class, and the sheer dimness of most of the students.

Her husband John had once remarked in his gruff Norwegian accent, Whichever poor sucker she settles on better be prepared to let her wear the trousers!

Valerie had laughed, but had the uncomfortable feeling that her husband was right.

CHAPTER 2

Intervention

T he early morning sun rippled through passing mist on the front lawn as Peter prepared breakfast.

The weekend papers had been as gloomy as ever.

Since the collapse of the eurozone five years earlier, the world economy seemed to stagger from one crisis to the next. American recovery seemed to be stuttering, China and Brazil were growing slowly, but Europe appeared to be sinking deeper and deeper into an economic quagmire. Peter’s friends in England were increasingly gloomy on the phone; it was late November, but early snowstorms had already swept across the South. The decisions made by various governments a decade previously to turn electricity generation green were having the predictable, in Peter’s view, effect of destroying power reliability. At the time, he had felt that plans to rely on renewable energy were unsound, but the outcome had been even worse than he had expected. Brownouts and longer periods of electricity grid failure had become the norm. Many companies had been forced to build backup power generation at vast cost.

He wondered how it was all going to end. While Australia remained prosperous, still buoyed by the remnants of a minerals commodity boom and strong agricultural prices, he had underlying doubts about the country’s economic health.

However, he reflected ruefully, this was not likely to be a major concern to him. His trip to the doctor earlier that week had not been encouraging. He had been told bluntly that his years of fast living when he worked with the overseas oil company were now catching up with him, and his high blood pressure and damaged liver were causing serious problems. Since then he had thought a great deal about what he would do with his assets when he died. With no direct relatives apart from his wife’s family, he increasingly felt that Zoë should benefit. Valerie and John were comfortably off and did not appear to need any help.

He had had a long and serious discussion with his solicitor, and a will had been drawn up which set up a trust for Zoë’s benefit. The only stipulation had been a request that she preserve his music collection.

Hobbling a bit from his arthritis, Peter walked with his cereal and cup of tea across to the sofa. Over the years, he had developed the habit of reading the papers over breakfast with his feet on the low table next to it. Seating himself, he was about to sip his tea when he saw a bizarre glow appear on the sofa facing him. The glow was opaque and nothing was visible through it.

From within the glow, a voice began to speak, Peter, do not be alarmed. We are the Bearing, and we need to talk with you. We have taken the liberty of slightly tranquillizing you in order to stop any feelings of concern.

For a moment, Peter found himself unable to think coherently, and a little tea slopped out of his cup. He suspected that he was probably hallucinating, but thought he might as well play along with his imagination.

What…what are you?

We are an ancient collective life-form from elsewhere in the galaxy. Our technology is beyond that which is current on this planet. A simple comparison would be your technology compared to that of Ancient Rome, but in fact we are vastly beyond that. We regard your species as exciting and capable of great development. It has also shown itself capable of great evil, of course, but the two are inseparable.

Peter thought about this for a moment, as far as a growing sense of excitement and a multitude of questions would allow.

But why show yourself now, and to me?

"The answer to that is complicated, but in essence we feel compelled to intervene here, as otherwise your species will probably become extinct through a combination of the returning ice age and your own technological ability to destroy yourselves, even if other species do not intervene. We might add that intervention is something we only resort to when no alternative is apparent.

Vast pain for your species is inevitable, but we need to preserve a core that is capable of spreading and developing. Intelligent life is rare in the galaxy and has an inherent tendency to self-destruct. Nurturing of such intelligence is one of our prime philosophical tenets. To this end, we need to appoint agents. Although we are capable of imposing our will, ethically we believe that an element of local control needs to be retained. Every race has a right to a level of self-determination.

There was a silence in the room, as Peter absorbed what he had heard.

He decided that he was suffering quite a strange hallucination—it was altogether too real.

From this I assume I would be one of your agents?

The glow that was called the Bearing seemed to flicker slightly.

For us, you represent the result of a serious search. We needed to find someone intelligent with no particular ties, and with a wide enough experience to be capable of providing overall direction and planning. That person also needed to have high ethical standards and the ability to take hard decisions—an interesting and rare combination. Your background in the oil industry provided good training for the latter. In fact, you will not be one of the agents—you will be our main agent. We are planning to include two further members, but you will be, in your terminology, the chair.

An immediate objection to this occurred to Peter. But why choose me? I am at the end of my life, and I’m told that I have serious health issues. I’m unlikely to be around long to guide this process, even if I agree.

The Bearing replied, in a voice which seemed to suggest gentle amusement, Of course, we are fully cognizant of your condition. Our estimate is that if untreated, you will not survive for more than six months; in addition to your known ailments, you have just developed an aggressive sarcoma. We propose to arrange a convincing accident, and we will remove you to a large satellite Habitat, which will become your base. We will provide a complete health reconstruction. This will effectively return you to the apparent age of about eighteen, but we will also incorporate some improvements. These will leave you immune to local infection and will greatly extend your expected lifetime. However, the process will take about three months, and you will be unconscious for part of this period. It is quite…stressful…and unfortunately you will lose some memories. Regenerating neurons necessarily means that some information will be lost.

Peter stared at the strange entity in front of him. It was clearly no natural phenomenon, and there seemed every logical reason to accept that it told the truth, provided he was not simply hallucinating. After a few moments he said, How long have I got to make a decision, and is it possible to know more before I make such a decision?

The Bearing flickered again. For the first part, the answer is that time is short. There are political currents flowing on your world which are capable of causing extreme destruction, and we need to get a process in place to forestall those currents. For the second question, you have a large amount to learn, but you already have all the information you need to make a decision.

Peter paused. He felt that he had always possessed an intuitive sense of rightness, and this felt… right.

Well, in that case, I…tentatively…agree. When do we get started?

The Bearing said, Now, and Peter felt his consciousness fading.

CHAPTER 3

Habitat

T here was pain everywhere, and a sense of suffocation and muffling. A distant voice said, Peter, it is time to wake up, and something or somebody was gently shaking him. His eyes opened blearily, and he saw he was in a dimly lit room almost devoid of any features apart from the bed on which he lay. A light-coloured object shaped like a giant rugby ball hovered over him. Its two pipe-like appendages ended in hands, which were gently shaking him.

His throat felt terribly dry and sore, but he managed to mumble, Where am I?

A clear female voice with no perceptible accent issued from the ball, answering, You are in the satellite Habitat, and you have just completed the first phase of your rejuvenation. You are in poor physical condition, and you need extensive exercise and physiotherapy to redevelop weakened functions.

Peter looked down; his hands and arms appeared soft and bleached, and the freckles, lines, and scars which he remembered were no longer visible. He appeared completely hairless. He tried moving slightly, and realized most of his strength was gone.

"Do you have a