The Earth Project

By John J Phillips

What happens when an advanced civilization from another world choose an ordinary, expendable human being and give him total control of a powerful and potentially deadly craft, purely for their entertainment and curiosity?

Will their prejudices be confirmed? Will he use it for pleasure, greed, and gain? Or will he surprise them with good deeds and intentions?

They watch and they wait. However, their project backfires, and in a twist of fate, he becomes their salvation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jul 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524634070

John J Phillips

John J. Phillips is a company director from just outside Glasgow in Scotland. An avid reader and film buff, he has had an interest in science fiction for many years. “The Earth Project” is the culmination of several years of ideas, research, and the desire to write a unique adventure.

Book preview

1

END OF VACATION

As the 747 flies through the night sky, the young couple sit back in their business class seats and congratulate themselves on a successful vacation, one with no television, no newspapers, no radio - in fact, no media whatsoever. I would recommend it to anyone, Mel says to Greg.

As the plane lands, dawn is breaking, and as they board the taxi home, it’s getting lighter.

Bursting through the front door in unison, they drop their suitcases, give each other a hug, and collapse on the sofa. Greg switches on the television and turns to the news. Mel asks if he would like a coffee. No, but I’ll have a beer.

She hands it to him, saying, I’m going to call Mum, and disappears upstairs.

As Greg watches the news he slides towards the edge of the sofa, his mood darkening, the newly acquired suntan appearing to fade by the second. On screen, people are leaving a building with boxes containing the contents of their desks. Just then, Mel returns All’s well, Mum and Dad say hi!

He hushes her, saying, Watch this. As they both sit in silence, the camera pans to the name on the building, Lehman Brothers. The T.V. commentary continues, saying that many banks and financial institutions are in trouble, and there will be more closures and redundancies unless the government steps in to help.

Mel asks Greg if this will affect his company. Don’t know, Mel. I don’t think we were involved in any way with sub prime lending, but apparently the sub prime loans were wrapped up with other sound investments and then sold on many times. It’s hard to know at the moment, guess I’ll find out on Monday.

Greg walks to the fridge, past the large kitchen window that looks onto their huge garden, which he notices is in need of some TLC. He grabs another beer, walks to the sofa, and collapses in a heap. Mel snuggles up next to him, and they both fall asleep.

Monday morning arrives, and Mel wishes Greg luck as they both leave for work. Greg arrives at his office to find the atmosphere gloomy and his colleagues subdued. Asking Greg about his trip lifts the mood a little, as he recounts the highlights of his vacation, and others reciprocate with memories of their own recent vacations.

After lunch, however, the mood in the office has changed significantly, as the staff have watched suits with long faces come and go all morning. Eventually, the CEO gathers the staff together and tells them that, unknowingly, the company’s investment staff has purchased a large number of bonds with sub prime loans rolled into them as part of the mix. Our accountants are investigating, but if there is as much sub prime in our portfolio as we are now beginning to suspect, it’s all over for us. We’ll know by Friday.

Greg and Mel arrive in the drive at the same time, and play chicken for the parking space nearest the door. Greg wins (with his company car) and they’re both still laughing as they enter the house.

Well, how did it go today? Mel asks.

Not so good, honey. Seems we bought some toxic stock, and it could bring the company down. Friday is D-day.

Mel tries to lighten the mood by suggesting that if worst came to the worst, Greg could become a house husband. It would be nice to come home to all the ironing done and the dinner on the table. I’m well paid, and as long as people have dodgy feet, and women wear Hi-heals, I’ll have a job. We worked out a long time ago that we could survive on my salary.

Yes, but what about the all the luxuries, honey? The exotic holidays, the meals out, your need to buy the latest bike the tour de France winner is pedalling. There would be none of that.

Sure, I know that, but it’s not going to come to that. You’re smart, experienced, and still young. Someone will snap you up if the company folds or lets you go.

You sure know how to cheer a guy up, sweetie. Now, what’s for dinner?

2

GREG THE HOUSE HUSBAND

Friday arrives, and as soon as Greg enters the office, he knows it’s not going to be good news. The suits have even longer faces than they did on Monday, and there are some new faces in sharper suits than the top brass.

A smartly dressed executive invites the gathered employees to form a semicircle and goes on to tell them that with immediate effect, the company is filing for bankruptcy. Furthermore, only a handful of people will be required to stay on to tie up any loose ends.

Each employee is then handed a folder with a reference letter and a brochure entitled How to cope with Redundancy. They are all told they have until the end of the day to clear out their desks.

Greg’s boss, - the CEO - comes up to him as he is clearing his desk, pats him on the shoulder and shakes his hand. Sorry about this, Greg. In the end, there was absolutely nothing we could do to save the company. If I hear of any work going, I’ll let you know, and if you need someone to tell a potential employer just how good you are, give them my name as a reference. The lease on the company car is paid until the end of the month, so you can keep it until then. Good luck!"

At home, Greg tells Mel about the events of the day, and although sad, they are both upbeat about the future.

The following Monday sees Greg’s first day as a house-husband, a title that tickles Mel and mildly amuses Greg. In between drafting letters and surfing the Net for work opportunities, Greg manages to vacuum, dust, iron, change the bed linen, and prepare dinner.

Wow, says Mel as she tours the house upon her return from work, observing Greg’s handiwork, I could get used to this.

After a dinner deemed excellent by the new breadwinner, they watch some TV. then retire to bed, relieved they’ve gotten through their first day of role reversal.

Over the next few weeks, they enter what can only be described as a second honeymoon period, with Greg doing all the cleaning, ironing, and shopping. He’s even managed to knock the garden into shape, a task that they have never quite managed to achieve in the five years they’ve been in the house.

As time passes, the novelty of being a house husband starts to wear off for Greg. The car’s been taken back, so he can’t get about easily, and he’s tiring of housework and cooking. The job opportunities are few and far between, and he’s only had dear John answers to the curriculum vitae he’s sent to every financial firm he can think of.

Mel notices that, as the weeks go by, Greg is doing less and less work at home. Sometimes when she comes home, he hasn’t shaved or showered.

She confides in best friend, Alice. All he seems to do is watch TV and drink beer. I’ve tried to talk to him, but he doesn’t seem to want to talk.

Do you think because he’s out of work, he feels emasculated by the fact he’s not the main breadwinner? asks Alice.

I don’t know, I think it’s partly that, but he seems to only ever watch the news, flicking from one channel to another. Most of the news is depressing,- a murder here, a kidnapping there, not to mention Iraq, Afghanistan, the recession, and the other horrors going on in the world. I’ve asked him to stop, but he says it’s important to know what’s going on. I just wish he’d get back to his old self.

Maybe if he gets a job, you’ll get the old Greg back, replies Alice. Think positive and all that.

I hope so, Alice, I hope so.

Weeks pass with no real improvement in Greg’s demeanour. If anything, he’s getting worse, doing nothing but sit around all day, drinking beer.

He’s also given up on the job applications.

After one particularly bad argument, Mel storms off to bed, leaving Greg sitting on the sofa, watching the news. There’s a segment on the Lord’s Resistance Army who are wreaking havoc on the people of southern Sudan, killing and raping villagers, cutting people’s hands off for no apparent reason other than to keep them terrified and subservient. Greg wonders why he hasn’t heard more about the L.R.A. Then the story goes on to say that they have kidnapped thirteen Westerners, and it all becomes clear. Greg has noticed that Americans only take notice of what’s going on in the world when other Americans are caught up in the story, and in this case, five of the hostages are American. As he continues to watch this story unfold, he begins to see that what Mel has been telling him is true - his obsession with the news is depressing him, so he turns the TV off and goes to the seat in the bay window.

The night is calm and still, and the sky is clear. As they live a little off the beaten track, lights are few and far between. Greg looks up at the stars, and as his eyes grow accustomed to the dark, he sees more and more stars, more than he’s ever noticed before. Fascinated, he stares until his eyes water, but he continues to look up. As he marvels at the sheer number of stars in the night sky, he whispers to himself, I wonder.

Just as he’s about to turn away to go to bed, he notices one star which seems brighter than the others. He turns to take a better look at it, staring for a few moments. Then, as he finally turns to go to bed, he mumbles, Wonder if that’s the North Star.

3

INTO THE UNKNOWN

As Greg disappears off to bed, he has no idea that on an unseen planet adjacent to one of the brighter stars, a meeting is about to take place, a meeting that will change his life forever. On that planet, members of an advanced civilisation are about to make a decision which will, have far-reaching consequences for Earth, Greg, and their own planet. Had they known the outcome of their actions, they would have cancelled this meeting there and then.

Into a large and grand room walk the planet’s president, vice president, and eighteen male and female senators. They are very smartly dressed, but not in a way that Greg would be familiar with. Most have grey hair and a distinguished demeanour.

After they are all seated, President Gortane stands and begins to address the group, who amongst them represent the inhabitants of the planet Tritoria.

We are gathered here today to address the civil unrest which has been bringing our planet to it’s knees during the last thirty six moons. It is bewildering and disappointing that our people can turn against us like this when we have given them peace and prosperity in a world where we have eradicated war, famine, and most diseases. They all have three quarters more leisure time than work time, but they still insist on withdrawing their labour, and using the time to protest. We need to resolve this situation, and I am open to suggestions. He retakes his seat.

A senior senator called Petronas stands to address the gathering. Why don’t we find out exactly what the people want and try, within reason, to give it to them?

Immediately, President Gortane jumps to his feet and berates the senator. "We know exactly what they want, Petronas, they want more pay tokens, fewer working hours, better holographic facilities, faster transport, no disease. With the exception of eradicating all diseases, we have given them all they asked for, but as soon as they get it, they want more. If we give in to them again, we run the risk of paying many more tokens for much less work, which could push our society to the breaking point, and there is still no guarantee that even then they’ll be happy."

At this point, Senator Xander, a former army general, stands. I agree, Mr President, we cannot give in to the populace this time. We must find a way to defuse the situation. I think the people have too much time on their hands.

Are you suggesting we take away their free time? asks another senator.

No, of course not, replies Xander. But we need to find a way to occupy their minds. We have studied Earth in ancient Roman times, where they had exactly the same problem - a well fed, well educated, wealthy population. Their senators would arrange spectacular gladiatorial shows with wild animals, and a myriad of weapons. The people loved it, and it kept them, for the most part, happy, quiet, and contented.

This statement concerns Senator Rosandra. You’re not suggesting that we copy these barbaric spectacles from Earth, are you? she asks incredulously.

Xander tries to answer, but Rosandra continues. Earth was barbaric then, and it’s barbaric now. You know that’s the reason we have collectively decided to have nothing to do with the planet, past or present.

Xander tries to speak again, but he is just beaten by Minerva, one of the younger senators, who asks, Is earth really as bad as we are told?

Linden, a former professor, stands and explains that on Earth, half the population is starving, and the other half are obese. There are always wars raging, some large, some small. The planet has over a dozen major religions, most of which have violent elements amongst the followers. Terrorist groups litter the planet, killing and maiming for one cause or another. Politicians and financial institutions are often corrupt, and the people are violent, irresponsible, and self obsessed.

How do we know all this? asks Minerva.

We have been studying them for quite some time, answers Linden. At first, it was our intention to make our civilisation known to them and help them develop, but their wars and cruelty shocked our researchers, and the program was halted.

Minerva comments, If our people could see how lucky they were compared with a typical citizen of Earth, they might appreciate what they have and be less inclined to be so disruptive to our society.

This comment seems to strike a chord with the assembly, who all nod in agreement.

At this moment, Xander stands and says, If I may continue explaining my idea. Some time ago, I read some very old military papers about a secret government plan. It was called The Earth Project. The plan was to arm one of Earth’s countries with military technology which was immeasurably more advanced than they currently had.

What was the thinking behind that? asks Petronas.

Well, says Xander, The idea was that if one country was so powerful that it could conquer all the rest put together, they would use this power to secure and maintain world peace.

What happened? asks President Gortane.

Well, it seems that no one in the Tritorion military could agree who to give all this power to, as no single country seemed worthy of the trust. The idea faded and was finally shelved.

So what’s that got to do with what we’re discussing here, Xander? asks the president.

You know why we’re here, Mr President, replies Xander. We need the people occupied, we need to let them see how lucky they are. We need them happy, and we need them contented, we need something big.

Are you saying we should bring back The Earth Project, Xander? asks Petronas.

Not exactly, but what if we modified the idea, and then let our people watch what happens on a daily basis? He trails off to let the others catch up.

How would you modify the idea? asks Petronas.

Well, I would give one individual power beyond the planet’s comprehension, and then stand back and see what happens.

Xander, may I remind you, says President Gortane, that we are not a barbaric people. We abhor war, conflict, and violence of any description.

Who mentioned violence? asks Xander innocently, The individual will be chosen at random, and they could do so much good with our technology.

They could also do a lot of harm with our technology, states Petronas.

Yes, but wouldn’t it be fascinating to find out what happens? muses Xander with a wicked smile.

After much debate, a motion is carried to allow an initial limited experiment, to see if the idea captures the people’s imagination. It’s also decided that the experiment will be broadcast in the latest Holographic Sensory Experience technology. An experience second only to being there is how the creators describe it.

Having made the decision to allow this experiment to go ahead, the president and senators need to decide what technology they will utilise for the experiment.

There’s only one thing we can use, says Xander.

And what’s that? asks President Gortane.

Why, the T500 of course! exclaims Xander.

There’s a gasp in the room, and the President says what everyone is thinking. You can’t send the T500 to Earth, Xander. It represents the zenith of our military capability. In the wrong hands, it could destroy the planet!

The planet’s a cesspit, Mr President, you said it yourself.

Yes, interrupts the president, but I don’t want it destroyed. We can’t have that on our collective conscience.

Don’t worry, Mr President, we will monitor this experiment very carefully. We can stop it at any time, and if it doesn’t gain popularity with the public, we can stop it as quickly as we started it. I just think that if we’re going to do it, we need to do it right. We need to give it the amazement factor. Our people all know what the T500 is, they know how powerful it is. They learn about it in school, and when they see one on Earth, they won’t believe it, they won’t be able to stop watching, especially when the action is broadcast in the Holographic Sensory Experience."

Following a ballot, the motion is surprisingly carried, and permission is given to dust off the T500.

4

THE MUSEUM

The national museum is busy, with school children and members of the public coming and going through the large, ornate front doors. A school party full of excited children marches through the doors, under a sign which reads The National Museum of History and War. As the children enter, the first thing they see is a picture of their home planet, Tritoria, with its three moons. As they progress, the children are reminded of how important these three moons are to the planet. First of all, they stabilise the planet’s rotation, ensuring that no part of the planet is scorched by the Tritorian sun. Second, but equally importantly, all three moons yield copious quantities of Xycon crystals. These beautiful aquamarine crystals provide a source of power much greater than that of nuclear power. Each crystal gives power for decades, and they are completely harmless, so they pose no disposal problems when they’re spent.

The crystals were discovered just as the planet’s natural mineral fuels like coal, gas, and oil were running out. Not soon enough though to prevent the wars and turmoil that the power-hungry planet went through as resources dwindled. Indeed, the discovery of Xycon intensified the wars, as it was such an efficient fuel. It was first discovered by the Federation and thought to be very rare. The non Federation countries fought to gain possession of this resource. With every country on the planet staking a claim to the same small part of the same small moon, the inevitable happened, and the conflicts grew.

Then one company discovered Xycon on Tritoria’s second moon, and another company discovered a large deposit on the third. With the realization that there was enough Xycon for millennia, the wars died away, and peace prevailed.

The world president at the time made the following speech, and all the children who visit the museum are encouraged to listen to it.

Let us not delude ourselves that we are a civilised and peaceful people, for we are neither. What you see is a veneer, we are at peace only because we have nothing to fight over. It is easy to be at peace when we have food, water, freedom, and all the energy we need. We will only know we are a truly civilised, peaceful race when we have something to fight over, but talk instead. I hope we can become that race.

As the children turn into the main part of the museum, they are faced with futuristic but recognisable machines of war, from artillery to tanks, moving on to what look remotely like planes. As they move along this row, the machines get bigger, less recognisable, and more futuristic. At the end of the row, in front of the largest machine in the building, there is a plaque which reads THIS IS THE T500.

T for terror, and 500 represents the number of improvements made to it, from its original manufacture to its decommission.

The plaque goes on to say that the T500 was the most powerful machine ever created on Tritoria, only five of them were needed to defend the Federation in the war fought over dwindling energy supplies, beating back many squadrons of sophisticated machines. The tragedy was that the planet was nearly destroyed in the process. The plaque finishes with the statement, The T500 you see before you, as with all exhibits in this museum, is the last of its kind.

The children look on in awe for a few moments and then rush off in unison when the teacher suggests snacks at the museum café.

5

THE T500 RESURRECTION

As night falls on the museum, a convoy of vehicles descends upon it. First in line are eight armoured personnel carriers, four go to the front of the museum, and four to the back. As the large rear doors of the vehicles open, armed police in full body armour jump out and quickly form a secure perimeter around the building. They close the nearby roads, and set up roadblocks. Next to arrive are three enormous cranes, followed by a large truck and trailer. None of these vehicles seems to actually make contact with the road. They have downward pointing cylinders, which generate enough lift to keep them elevated. These cylinders are relatively small on the personnel carriers, and larger on the lifting cranes. On the low loader, these cylinder pods are very large, and each side of the trailer is lined with them.

As the large hangar doors of the museum slowly open, they reveal, inch by inch, the T500. It has already been moved from it’s museum platform to the door, ready for transportation.

The three cranes only just manage to fit through the museum doors. Slowly they position themselves strategically around the craft, and as they gently lift it, the trailer reverses under it until it’s motioned to stop.

At this point, the curator of the museum walks up behind the man who appears to be co-ordinating the whole operation. He gives a little cough and says, Excuse me, sir. The man turns around. Hello, I’m Ralph, the curator of the museum.

I’m Senator Xander. Ralph looks surprised. He screws up his eyes and shields them from the arc lights illuminating the proceedings.

Of course, says Ralph. I apologise sir. I couldn’t see you properly because of the lights, we don’t see many luminaries around here.

Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to meet you, says Xander.

Xander and Ralph turn towards the cranes and watch as they slowly lower the T500 onto the low loader.

Where are you taking her? asks Ralph.

Sorry, old man, that’s classified information, replies Xander.

What are you going to do with her?

Sorry, I can’t tell you that either, but I can tell you that you’ll find out very soon.

As they both watch the craft inch slowly out of the museum, the curator laments, we’ll miss her, she’s the museum’s biggest draw.

Don’t worry, replies the senator, I have a feeling you will be seeing her again soon, and who knows? One day, you might get her back.

The curator looks puzzled by these cryptic answers, but realises he’ll get no more from the senator, so he watches in silence as the pride of the museum slips quietly away.

6

AREA 10

After a long journey, the convoy and the T500 arrive at a secret military base in the middle of the desert. The loading process that took place at the museum is now reversed, and the craft is positioned on a specially fabricated cradle in the middle of a large, well lit, pristine hangar.

The next day, a band of specially trained scientists in white coats descend on the craft, and start opening packing cases full of the equipment necessary to bring the ship back to life.

As the scientists work on the craft, one of them opens the next packing case in line. When he sees the contents, he jumps back in amazement, almost falling backwards over some packing material left on the floor. He immediately asks if he can speak to senator Linden, the former professor who is now heading up the team breathing life back into the formidable machine.

As Linden arrives on the scene, he barks, what’s the problem here? We’re working to a very tight schedule, and we can’t afford to lose any time.

The project supervisor steps forward. Professor Barclay would like to speak to you in private, Senator Linden.

Very well, tell him to meet me in my office in five minutes.

Senator Linden is sitting at his desk, reading notes on the progress of The Earth Project when there is a knock on the door.

Come in, shouts Linden. A sombre Professor Barclay enters.

Have a seat.

As Barclay takes a seat, Linden asks, What’s on your mind, professor?

The professor looks Senator Linden straight in the eye and says, those last two packing cases we opened.

Yes, what about them? asks Linden impatiently.

They’re full of Xycon.

So, what’s wrong with that? asks Linden, even more impatiently. We need something to power the damn thing, and you wouldn’t want us to go back to nuclear, would you? You know we don’t touch that stuff any-more.

I understand all of that, retorts Barclay, but do you know what the four hundredth improvement to the T was?

The senator thinks for a moment. No, I don’t,why, should I? What was it?

It was the linking of the power source from the propulsion system to the defensive, and more importantly the offensive capabilities of the machine, states Barclay.

Linden thinks for a moment. Is that bad?

Barclay jumps to his feet. "Bad? Bad? It’s worse than bad. We’re talking about Xyconpowered weapons here. That thing was destructive enough with nuclear weapons, now you’ve made it more powerful by a factor of ten, and it will have an almost impenetrable force field to protect it."

Barclay watches as the senator digests this information. If this got into the wrong hands, it would be a disaster. Have we any alternative power sources? asks the senator.

Apart from nuclear, which we’ve ruled out, nothing.

Can we fix it, make it weaker, you know, tone it down a bit?

Possibly, replies Barclay, but it would take time, and we wouldn’t know where to start.

The senate wants this to go ahead. The timetable’s been set, and we can’t have any hold ups. Who else knows about this?

No one, says the professor.

Well, let’s keep it that way. You do your job, Barclay, and I’ll do the rest.

Very well, sir, says the professor as he starts to walk to the door. Just as he’s about to leave, he turns to the senator and says, I hope, for all our sakes, you know what you’re doing.

Senator Linden walks back to his desk, picks up his notes, and starts to read them. After a moment, he looks through his office window towards the T500 and smiles.

His thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of the phone on his desk.

He picks it up, and almost immediately pulls himself together, sitting bolt upright in a position as near as one can get to standing to attention, while remaining seated.

Good evening, Mr President, yes, it’s all going to plan, sir. No, there have been no problems, sir. Yes, we’ll be set to go tomorrow sir. Thank you, Mr President, and good night.

Linden puts down the receiver, wipes the sweat from his brow, and takes a deep breath. He then gets up and makes his way to the hive of activity in the hangar. He