The Pole Shift

The Vet's Border Collies

The Vet was in the top paddock, The Saxon Merino rams eyed him like he was another tall, hornless ram.  A ram to respect yet obviously challenge. They wanted to engage their curled horns against him constantly but he had tricked them into backing down with a hand movement. He was half way through deterring another butt when a commotion at the survival bunkers commenced . All three turned their heads to the bottom of the Island. Those survival bunkers, the inner dwellings,  were now used for food storage and around them had sprung up a secretarial center.  As if analogous to a Norman castle. Across from that stood a large house that had belonged to an entertainer of the Old World. The singer, famous for a decade, had not been included as an Elite and the Vet found it wry that her holiday house  lived and she did not. The mountain mansion had withstood the carnage and now on its balcony a group of Elites had gathered and were addressing a growing crowd. This was odd, unplanned.  The Vet  sensed that it was a brave counter to The General's dogma. With his Border Collies at his heel, he rushed down to hear what was being said.

                "Ancient  hominid species? This sort of rot distracted the 'Sheeples' before the Pole Shift! The military are planning something! Using our AI - Prophet, against us! War but with ourselves! Islands with men named 'Sean' on them? Give me a break!  A boat of teenagers? It's a bad dialogue! Don't you see? There are too many of us! They want to cull!  they want us to submit! Who understands? Who's with me?"

                The woman spoke with fear and passion, The Vet knew she was A Chemist, she had been working with the new grape vines, her face pleaded - knowing she had but moments.  The crowd had grown however support for what she said did not, then another female strode to her side. The Vet had no idea who she was, she seemed to have appeared from within the house, had the Old World Singer lived? She was impressive, she wore reds in forms that draped from shoulders and clung to hips. Her hair weaved in curls that matched his Merinos. Perfect curls. The Vet whispered:

                "Beautiful. She's divine."  He felt eerie,  then listened to her words.

                "Peoples, I have but moments.  The General speaks truth! I am his truth."She looked around her, like a startled Robin. The Vet saw her body language, recognized it in it's animal rawness, and understood she expected danger, but not from them.  She held out her arms then paced forward, her long limbs escaping red robes, her skin amber.  She made a motion with her hands and two sun like orbs eased out of the ocean below and floated to her. Their journey was tracked by mesmerized eyes. They pulsed beautiful orange as they arrived at the end of each of the lady's hands, then two naked figures stepped out. Their skin glistened as muscles twitched, their eyes were tiger's, and in moments they bounded off the balcony past the astonished Vet and up through his shocked sheep. The woman clad in red paused, letting them take the scene in. She announced:

                "There are two of your new Gods. Praise them, The Macka, The Lett. They shall guide you, after your wars." The air suddenly hummed, he knew that sound. Tomahawks, their tomahawks, launched by circling drones! The red clad woman smiled sadly, placed her hands together and stepped into a newly formed orb. Around her missiles thudded and erupted, The Singer's house disintegrated and dozens of Elites -  Biologists, Surgeons and Carpenters were killed as the incredible woman floated away and into the ocean unscathed.

                The Vet paced backwards, his Border Collies alert and awaiting his words.

                "To, to!" He ordered, then whistled three sharp notes.  The Collies ran, not to the sheep, but to the two figures that had run by them.