The Last Lands

By Christopher Pearce

In the future, global warming has all but destroyed the earth. Now, the last of the remaining human population and wildlife seek inhabitable land. In this shrinking world, they all have to fight for the right to live.
Earth is divided literally into polar opposites—more technologically advanced humans in Antarctica and the wild ones, living face-to-face with nature, in the Arctic. The people of Antarctica call themselves the Antar, while the Artic contingent is called the Narrs. The Narrs and the Antar know nothing of each other … until now.
Seismic activity and volcanoes are destroying what is left of the earth, but some lands are still able to support life. These are the Last Lands, sought by all remaining humanity in order to survive. However, both the Narrs and Antar will soon learn a terrible lesson: we cannot destroy the world; we can only destroy ourselves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Dec 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781665583381

Christopher Pearce

Chris Pearce is a research scientist with Fisheries and Oceans Canada at the Pacific Biological Station (Nanaimo, British Columbia, Canada), where he conducts studies on sustainable aquaculture, focusing on the effects of various environmental factors on the biology, physiology, and genomics of a variety of cultured freshwater and marine invertebrates (i.e. geoduck clams, giant red sea cucumbers, green/purple/red sea urchins, Manila clams, Pacific oysters, and signal crayfish). He works closely with the commercial shellfish and finfish culture industries and various First Nations in British Columbia to address issues related to the ecological, economical, and social sustainability of invertebrate aquaculture, results from his research having contributed to the development of various federal aquaculture policies and frameworks. He is a specialist on integrated multi-trophic aquaculture (IMTA) and lower-trophic-level aquaculture, routinely advising provincial, national, and international companies, organizations, research networks, and governing bodies on various facets of those two fields. He is currently working with the salmon aquaculture industry in western Canada to examine the feasibility of sea cucumbers to mitigate net biofouling and organic particulate accumulation at commercial fish farms. As of 2022, he had authored/co-authored 120 scientific publications, including 90 peer-reviewed journal articles and 30 governmental/industry technical reports. He holds editorial positions with two scientific journals, maintains adjunct status at two universities (Vancouver Island University and University of Victoria), and is past-president of the Aquaculture Association of Canada.

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© 2021 Christopher Pearce. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  02/23/2021

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8339-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8340-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8338-1 (e)

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The Last Lands Song

Lyrics by: Christopher Pearce

Performed by: Tracey Owen

CONTENTS

Introduction

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Epilogue

A picture can paint a thousand words, yet it takes only a few words to paint a picture. In turn, this picture paints a further thousand words. This is the wonder of your imagination. Use your imagination when you read this book. Imagination is what makes us human.

We cannot destroy the world. We can only destroy ourselves.

INTRODUCTION

It had been more than four hundred years since the world started to feel the effects of global warming. Global warming was not only caused by the burning of fossil fuels releasing too much carbon dioxide into the air, it was also exacerbated by extra solar activity as the sun sent its colossal super-heated flares to bombard Earth’s atmosphere. Think of an ice age in reverse; the earth had entered a heat age. The average temperature was rising far more quickly than anyone had predicted. The combinations of these caused catastrophe and devastation the human race had never before faced. Nuclear wars, famine, disease, pandemics, epidemics, starvation, and death followed. The population of the world was decimated; less than one percent survived. The biodiversity of life was not just unbalanced; it was totally turned upside down.

Those who did survive were forced to move increasingly closer towards the poles. Some people and wildlife moved north and settled within the Arctic Circle. Others moved south to Antarctica. Anyone or anything left behind died, including the land.

By the year 2442, Earth’s temperature had risen by more than twenty degrees Celsius, and sea levels had risen by up to seventy-five metres. More than 95 per cent of all the world’s ice had melted. The planet was covered in a constant thick cloud caused by the extra moisture in the air coupled with gases pouring out of the perpetual volcanoes. Only at the extreme north and extreme south could the light of the sun be seen. If a view of Earth from space were possible, it would not be the blue planet it once was, but a white planet with blue caps. The world’s weather patterns had completely changed. Never-ending storms constantly roared around Earth at the equator with winds reaching speeds of more than two hundred kilometres per hour. This made the seas impossible to navigate. All land was sandstorm battered deserts; the only places where any life could be sustained were the northernmost and southernmost areas of the planet

Some of the folk who moved north settled in land in the northern part of what had once been Greenland. This land had been covered in ice for millennia, but now with the rise in the world’s temperature, the ice had all melted to reveal grasslands. The settlers called themselves the Narrs, and they called the land Narland.

The folk who had moved south settled on Antarctica where, again, the ice had melted, although some ice remained at altitude. But for these people, there was a greater threat from the volcanoes and seismic activity. They call themselves the Antar.

The Narrs and the Antar lived on the last land; they knew nothing of each other until our story begins.

PROLOGUE

Captain Anton, a tall, thin man with blonde hair, was very pleased with himself. Despite his relative youth of twenty-five, he had been given his first command of the new subsea craft, the SC5. His was the fifth such vessel to be sent out, his mission to search for new land. None of the previous four had returned. Anton was determined that he would not fail his master, Admiral Johannes. He would return to Antar with the knowledge of new land where the people of Antar could begin their new lives. Maybe they will call this new land the Land of Anton, he thought to himself with a self-satisfied smile.

Anton stood on the bridge of his vessel with his second in command, Mikael, who was also twenty-five, not quite as tall as Anton, but slightly thicker set with black curly hair. Anton and Mikael had gone through the military academy together and were the best of friends. Anton turned to his friend and gave him an apprehensive smile. The bridge was high on the front of the vessel and covered with a transparent dome that provided a 360-degree view.

Go north, Johannes had told him. Go up the Atlantic as far as it will take you. If there is any land left, it will be there. The whole of the Antarctic continent had been circumnavigated, and nowhere had been found that was free of the toxic volcanic gas that constantly spewed up from inside the earth.

Steady as she goes, ordered the young captain as they approached the South Atlantic Ocean. He was expecting the currents to be strong there, but what happened he did not expect.

The speed of the vessel started to increase. Hold the speed! ordered Anton.

Hold the speed, Mikael repeated.

A crew member turned in his chair and looked at the two young men. We are holding speed, sir, he said with a worried look on his face.

Then could you explain why our velocity is increasing? asked Anton.

"I think the current is pulling us, sir. It seems we have no control over our speed or our direction, sir.

Full reverse! ordered the captain.

The vessel is not responding, sir.

About turn!

There’s still nothing, sir.

The SC5 had been built to withstand the enormous pressure that the vessel would be exposed to while undertaking deep-sea navigation. Anton was at first untroubled by the depth and speed the vessel had been taken to. What is our status? asked the captain.

We are currently travelling at a speed of eighty knots, still increasing, and a depth of three hundred twenty metres, holding direction due north, sir, Mikael explained.

Okay, let’s see where this current takes us. Anton was pleased the current was taking him exactly where he wanted to go. At this rate, I will complete this mission much faster than I first thought. When I return to Antar, I will be known as the saviour.

The SC5 continued on its course, which was determined by the current for what seemed an age. Anton was looking forward out of the bridge dome into the black abyss, the vessel lights disappear into nothing. Then he noticed a faint red glow in the distance. He called Mikael over to him. What is that?

Mikael looked at the red glow as it got closer and bigger. I’m not sure. It looks— Mikael didn’t have time to finish. The vessel crashed into the glow. The crew members were thrown from their positions into the sides of the vessel. All around the ship, alarms were sounding. There was a breech in the hull, and water gushed in. Most of the crew members were already dead and were floating in the water face down. Anton looked at his friend Mikael and saw an expression of horror on his dead friend’s face. The temperature was rising in the vessel. Anton realized there was to be no glory. He thought of his wife and young daughter back in Antar. He held onto his dead friend as he was submerged into the hot water. Grief engulfed him. He held his breath until his lungs began to burn. His body forced him to breathe in and take in water. The hot water burned his lungs, and he started to vomit. But he could only breathe toxic hot water back into his lungs. His last thoughts were of his love ones.

CHAPTER 1

The sky was clear; the stars were shinning bright, though it was approaching midday. The dancing lights had finished performing their colourful performance. Rarely was the sky so clear; its usual colour was grey because of the clouds that constantly covered the land. The sky in the east was just showing a touch of orange. The water in the bay was very calm, and all was very quiet.

The men, women, and children of Narland had come from their settlement across the salt marsh to stand on the beach in anticipation of the return of the sun. The quiet continued as they anxiously waited, their eyes were fixed on the east as the sky became more and more orange. And then when the sun broke the horizon, a huge roar went up. The sun held the line between sea and sky for a few short minutes, and then fell back beyond the sea. Sophos, the elder, an ageing man who had seen the return of the sun almost one hundred times, stepped onto the beach to give his annual speech for the return of the sun: People of Narland, we gather here together to welcome the return of the sun! We tell the sun that we will continue to look after its Earth. We will right the wrongs of our ancestors whose gluttony and greed, their need for power and control, almost totally destroyed the world. We tell the sun that we will continue to help the land to recover, and unlike our ancestors, we will leave the land that we now live in in a better state than it was when we found it. The crowds gathered on the beach sent up another roar.

Over the next few weeks, the sun would stay in the sky a few minutes longer each day until there was enough daylight for preparations to begin for the festival to celebrate the return of the sun.

The Narrs had had to endure a long, hard winter, although it had not been too cold. The sun had been absent for much of the last three months. There was not much folks could do in the dark; they had mainly stayed in their huts talking about what they intended to do when the sun returned.

The Narrs survived the winter on food they had collected over the summer. The food stores consisted of root vegetables, dried and smoked fish, elk meat, algens cheese made from elk’s milk, and dried fruits. The supplies had to be monitored to make sure everybody received a fair share. Now that the sun has returned, and folks were ready and eager for the festivities to begin.

Rimmer was a tall, well-muscled man. He kept his long, brown hair tied behind his neck to keep the wind from blowing it into his eyes. He and his son, Arkwal, were at the top of the cliff. They had been given the task of collecting gannet eggs. Nobody volunteered for gannet egg collection, and for good reason—the birds did not take too kindly to having their eggs stolen. But at this time of year, the people considered them a delicacy. Additionally, they were rich in protein, which was important after the long dark months for the rebuilding of their strength.

Rimmer and Arkwal crawled on their hands and knees to the edge of the cliff. Slowly, as they lay on their bellies, they peered over the edge of the cliff. There is no way I’m going down there to collect gannet eggs or anything else! Arkwal said with fear in his voice and terror in his eyes. It was a hundred feet or more, a sheer drop, to the rocks below, which were pounded by the constant waves, which created a white foam that ran over and off the black rocks.

I don’t fancy it much myself, lad. We’ll have to make sure the rope is secure. The father-and-son team were then joined by another father-and-son team, Corrgan and his son, Uvaio. Uvaio had also been nominated for gannet egg collection along with many of the younger boys and girls of the Narland settlements, the young people being lighter and more agile and so best suited to the task.

Namaste, Corrgan whispered with a big smile on his face as he bumped forearms with Rimmer. The greeting was tradition. It was always whispered or said quietly with heads bowed and forearms bumped. The skin of the people was covered with their doe skin outfits; all folk who lived in Narland wore clothing made from elk skin. The tradition went back to when people did not like to touch each other or risk passing on any communicable diseases. Corrgan was slightly shorter than Rimmer but more heavily muscled. His long, black hair was also tied behind his neck. I see you’re out early. Picked a good spot too.

I just want to get it over and done with, Rimmer lied.

Not to worry. There are plenty of good spots up here. Corrgan moved on and, without saying a word. Uvaio followed, as did Uvaio’s elkhound, Rep. The old dog followed loyally behind.

Arkwal watched Uvaio as he quietly moved on to look for another good place where they could go over the edge of the cliff. Put the rope around my waist. I’m going over the edge now, Arkwal instructed his father.

I don’t know why you don’t like that boy. What harm has he ever done you? said Rimmer. Arkwal had never liked Uvaio; the two boys were the same age—seventeen—and had grown up together. Arkwal was the slightly taller of the two, and Uvaio was more broad and well-muscled for a young man. Rimmer tied one end of the rope around Arkwal’s waist and tied the other end around a boulder. Rimmer then took the slack and looped it around his midriff so he could lower his son down slowly.

A short way along the edge of the cliff, Uvaio and Corrgan were lying on their bellies looking over the edge. The drop was about a hundred to a hundred and fifty feet straight down to the seaweed-covered rocks. Uvaio tied the rope around his waist, and Corrgan did the rest. Uvaio watched Arkwal being slowly lowered towards the nesting gannets. Are you ready to go? asked