The Pole Shift

The Vet

The bearded man, perhaps thirty,  regarded the ewes philosophically. He loved them, and addressed the flock as if they were friends. His Border Collies were at his heel, but they knew he was interacting and held their heads level.

        In a month the sheep would begin to lamb, increasing the 'High Country's'  flock by forty percent.  He was fairly sure of that. His exceptional animal husbandry caused him a quick flutter of pleasure. Then his face darkened, thinking of the speech by the military man,  The General. The Vet had shouted "aliens" as a comedy, but there seemed to be a wave of assessment by them all, as if it was a viable explanation for their sudden fear. A game was being played and he whispered:

                "What? For the love of lambs, what?"  He did not know. He shook his head, looking at the sheep.  "Lambs soon, you ewes." The Vet smiled, pacing amongst the Merinos.  He was a good vet, a good farmer, and he would be with them when they birthed.  He understood animals in a deep way and the animal kingdom was where his heart lay.

                The ewes bleated, fat and gathering around him, happy in his presence. In the top paddock a set of Saxon Merino rams looked at the ewes too, they had only one thing in mind and the Border Collies looked up at them as if it was funny.          

                What did the General mean by 'we are at war?' When questioned,  what on earth did he mean by 'who knows - Neanderthals, Cro Magnons?" Cro Magnons were the early Homo Sapiens, hunter gatherers, fifty, sixty thousand years ago? Blue eyed, tan of skin, curly haired. Tall robust humans, cave painters. The General was speaking in riddles surely. He must be referring to another country's survivors.

                The Elites had been told that those whom  inhabited a mountain range that withstood the Pole Shift would have a thousand years to form, become the ideal humans, before trade and adventure  took their children to other places. Those children would view the past as legend, technology fading like dusk,  only a few handed down secret knowledge.

                Had the Americans, The Europeans or the Chinese decided to forget that future? Had they determined to wipe clean the World while they wielded destructive technologies? In effect a second, human Pole Shift. The Vet shook his head, he was smart, he intuitively arrived at correct answers. The answer was amongst them, not in distant mountain ranges.  There was truth in General's words and he looked at his hands, then up at the skies.

                "Others." He said and knelt down amongst the bleating ewes, letting their fleeces brush his face as he tried to arrive at an answer.