The Captain performed a patrol of the New Islands. He took a military hovercraft that skimmed the surface of the troublesome ocean, it peeled across shallow lands managing to avoid detritus like the palm of a hand can push away the unwanted. Above a quartet of drones followed. Their bee hum was just audible as they followed the Captain, they wove in a pattern, meeting in the middle directly above, then dancing out as if in four step with Grady's heartbeat. Their ovoid manufacture caught light and bounced it down. They were designed as heraldry and always drew attention - giving the Captain advantage.
He met the old people in the new world. They all had one question:
"Why are we suddenly afraid?" He felt like telling them they should have cared more for the little things in the old world but instead he said:
"Enemies. We have enemies." He relied on clichés like 'bad apples' and 'cancer on our budding society'. Not once did he suggest there were invisible powers pulling strings beyond the control of drones or algorithms that could tell if a citizen preferred the colour blue or pink. They all knew they were the cream of the old world, but did they suspect they were simply the cream of a livestock? So clever, we think we're so clever.
He gave the speeches, winning wan support for the murder of illegal survivors. He moved to the next Island of brilliant human beings and went through the same spiel. One thing he did know, these people were luminous and before long they would figure out the fear they were feeling but his orders were clear, win support through lies or veiled threats, just until it was just them.
The Captain slept badly, preferring the flat granite rock that looked out to the new seas and up to the same stars. He pushed away thoughts that bordered on theology. The drones had located a dozen flotillas upon which bedraggled illegal survivors were mostly dying of their own accord, there was one though that seemed strangely blessed. It had gathered in all sorts of ruin to form a floating village and if anything they were thriving. The Captain watched drone footage of a group of eight, teenagers mostly but a woman too. They were industrious, constructing. They had access to some sort of power, a generator, yes, but something beyond that? The Captain surmised they had communication beyond their floating island and was disconcerted that the footage cut off. The surveillance drone had failed for why he did not know, did he glimpse a jerk in the camera? Another drone was on its way carrying a payload as well as a camera. He regretted his feelings of conflict, the group looked like they meant to survive. He admired them and yet, he had his orders.
YOU ARE READING
The Pole Shift
Science FictionEarth Crust Displacement, a theoretical and devastating geological event supported by Albert Einstein. What if it was about to happen, what if we knew it was upon us? What if some of us were being watched . . .
