2104; a dystopian, apocalyptic short story in commemoration of 2004 tsunami victims
2104
James Vince was a good person.
Yes, there was no argument about that. Vince was a
good person. He did not go to church every Sunday.
But, he was a good man with a good heart. He loved two
things dearly: his family and physics. Physics was his first love. But, that
changed when he met Clara. He met her at the Cambridge University where he was finishing
his doctoral thesis on nuclear plants. Clara was completing a degree in
marketing. Vince became a professor at a local university in Birmingham. Clara
too found a job. They got married soon after their graduation and settled in
Birmingham. He could not ask more the day he became a father. Katrina, their first
child was a sweet angel. For three years, two of them meant the whole world for
him. Things changed when he became a father of two more children. Twins this
time: Alex and Harry. After twins were born, Vince was forced to find a
lucrative job. Then, he had to make a serious decision. Clara had resigned from
her job to look after the kids and the things had gradually become bit messy.
He was looking for opportunities. A job that would enable him to be a proud
husband, caring father and a faithful citizen.
Then he heard the word Lakshadweep.
He had heard that name. The largest nuclear plant in
the Asian region was in Lakshadweep. One of his colleagues informed him that
the US Government was looking for a nuclear physicist. His friend explained
that there were several vacancies of Plant Supervisors and would entail a nice
paycheck.
Vince was a smart scientist. Even at the Cambridge, he
exhibited the signs of a bright academic. He specialized in nuclear science
simply because he loved it. He spent three years in Belarus and Ukraine
studying and researching the myths and secrets of nuclear industry in the
Soviet Union. Vince had read about Soviet Union in books. He was born in 2062,
71 years after the disintegration of the Soviet Union.
The world had changed a lot. By 2050, the petroleum
reserves in the world had come to an end. All the nations prohibited the use of
petroleum fuel. The end of the petroleum reserves had several consequences. The
Arabian countries, largely known as OPEC lost their soft power in
international politics. Saudi Arabia, a powerful ally of the USA was the first
nation state to pay the price. In the absence of petroleum fuel, nuclear energy
became the savior.
Vince was a competent nuclear
physicist; finding a good job was not hard, but he had to leave his country,
his loving family. In 2092, at the age of 30, he took his colleague’s cue and
contacted the US embassy at London. Yes, it was alright. He would have to leave for Lakshadweep soon. He was stationed as a plant supervisor.
Earlier,
Lakshadweep was a group of islands. The three powerful nations, the USA, India
and Israel started a collaborative project to build the largest nuclear plant
in the Asian region in the Indian Ocean. They selected Lakshadweep. Once a
tourist paradise was turned into an extremely restricted area. The group of the
islands were turned into a single island by land filling. Environmentalists and
other people were protesting, but the almighty three never paid attention to pessimistic,
hysterical alarmists who saw a fault in everything. The project started
in 2084, and by the time Vince was employed, the plant was functioning regally
producing 500000 megawatts of electricity power; the amount was sufficient to
fulfill the entire electricity requirements of at least 1 billion people. The
electricity produced at Lakshadweep was transferred to India, Israel and other
NATO countries through the humongous cables that were laid under the ocean.
Vince was stationed in the reactor no. 4. The entire
power plant had 14 reactors, each reactor producing at least 3500 megawatts of
electricity power. Vince worked hard ever since he went there, and everybody knew
that he had a bright future ahead of him. The new millennium saw his promotion
to the executive committee. In 2101, he became the head of engineers and 2103
he was honored with the position of Director of the entire facility. More than
600 workers worked under him, and he was awarded the Most Excellent Order of
the British Empire medal for his commendable service for NATO and rest of the
Western power bloc at the age of 43, the youngest scientist to receive that
title.
…
26th November 2104
Vince felt lazy. What he had to do was boring at this
part of day. All he had to was staring at a computer screen. The technology had
become so sophisticated that he could supervise the entire power plant with the
help of super computer G700, a wonder in information technology.
Vince
decided to visit the Assistant Director of the facility, Jeetan Patel, a middle
aged man with good humor.
Patel was eagerly looking at his mini TV screen. Vince
knew what Patel was watching so eagerly.
“Are
your guys doing well?” Patel was startled, but seeing Vince, he relaxed.
“Yes,
Yes. They are batting really well.” Vince’s use of the word guys to denote the Indian
national cricket team members, was a bit problematic in this century. After the
feminist wave in mid-21st century the game of cricket was turned
upside down. All the nations decided to allow women to play with men, as a
support for the feminist argument that men and women are equal, and men being stronger
than women was a myth. Therefore, ICC, the international governing body of
cricket mandated that each team should have at least five females, making the
cricket ground a perfect example of equality and equity.
Right then
Vince’s smartphone began to vibrate.
“Mr. Vince?” a slightly American accented voice
inquired his name.
“Yes”. Vince answered.
“Mr. Goodman wishes to have word with you in ten minutes.
Please, arrange your schedule to have a quick word with him.”
“Yes, sure”. Saul Goodman was the big boss. He was the
kingpin of this power plant and the rumor had it that he was only accountable
to the President of the USA.
“Mr. Vince”. An icy voice broke through Vince’s phone.
“Goodman here”.
“Yes sir.”
“Vince, we want an extra power supply of 25000
megawatts next month. We want to celebrate the 20th anniversary of
the power plant in a grand scale.”
“But sir, I can’t supply that much at such a short
notice of time”.
“Vince, listen to me, don’t argue with me. The
President wants this thing done. All the NATO heads of state and political
leaders of the USA, India and Israel will gather to Mumbai to celebrate this.
We will hold exhibitions, fairs, conferences and every damned thing to showcase
our nuclear power to the world. Don’t mess this up for god’s sake and please
tell me if you can’t do this, I will find a person who will say yes to my
command.” The President of the United States of America was nearing the end of
his first term in office and Vince instinctively realized this urge for a
sudden big nuclear fair would be a massive PR project for his next
candidacy.
“No sir I will do my best all I ask you to do inform
me bit earlier…” Vince tried to muster more courage, but he failed.
“Vince, I don’t need excuses, I want action. Can you
or can’t?”
“I will try my best sir.” Goodman hung up suddenly.
…
Vince was sick worried. It was the Christmas night.
The world was feasting. But, he could not rest let alone feast. He had to make
sure that an additional 25000 megawatts of electricity had to be transferred to
the Indian peninsula. He knew well that the energy created in the reactors had
to be always dealt with utmost care. Now, he cursed himself for agreeing to do
this. He replayed the telephone conversation with Goodman thousand times and
came up with negative response for Goodman’s command. “Ahhh, why did I not say nooo?”
He cursed himself.
“Patel, get all the foremen and technicians ready." Patel obediently called a meeting of supervisors. Vince wanted a meeting before he
started.
“Folks. Today is big a day. As you all know the
Management has decided to celebrate the anniversary of this power plant big.
And they honor us by giving us the opportunity to powering up the entire
celebration by our own energy and to do that we need extra 25000
megawatts.” Vince was expecting a fanatic applause, but, apparently no one was
keen to applaud. Vince could see the emerging disturbing worried faces of his
subjects, but no one dared voice their concerns, they were off course, smart
enough to know that the order came from top; they were lesser subjects and who
were they to question these decisions? “No one can sign off without my
permission. I need everyone at their best. No mistakes, do you understand me?” Seeing
that everyone was pessimistic, Vince turned towards Assistant Director Patel.
“Yes, sir.” Patel too knew the precarious situation of
the extra amount of energy, but he knew best what was the safest thing to do;
keep quiet and let the big fish do their own business. He thought that the
people like he did not matter.
But he was wrong. He should have spoken. Everyone in
that room should have spoken. At least, someone in that room should have
spoken. If someone would have spoken, that person could have avoided one of the
greatest disasters of the 22nd century. But, fate had its own way
that day.
…
Saul Goodman was like a ghost. He was literally a
ghost. He received the news pretty quickly.
“History is repeated, South Asia is again washed out”
The media was glamorizing it all over the news
channels and World Wide Web. Fanatically, right after 100 years, the same
minute, a tsunami occurred and attacked the entire South Asian region. South
India, Sri Lanka, Maldives, Bangladesh and Myanmar had been completely washed
out by the ruthless wave.
That was the news on the TV channels.
But, Goodman knew the truth.
What triggered the tsunami was an explosion of the 14
nuclear reactors at the Lakshadweep Nuclear Power Plant. The Plant Director
James Vince last reported that a cable that was supposed to transfer the
additional amount of electricity had exploded, creating a larger explosion in
the 14 nuclear reactors. The explosion of the 14 nuclear reactors created a
radiation equal of thousands of Hiroshima nuclear bombs, and that radiation had
disturbed a tectonic movement. The inevitable outcome was a tsunami.
…
The clocks were ticking. It was 10.30 a.m. in the morning.
Precisely one hour and three minutes after the disaster.
Goodman was looking gloomily at a mirror to see the
desperate look on his face. He, Steinberg and Ramakrishnan, the representatives
from Israel and India respectively were summoned to the CIA headquarters in
Washington.
The meeting began Sharp at 10.40 a.m.
“Right,
gentlemen I have some news for you. I have spoken with the Secretary of Defense
and Secretary of the State. They both agreed to this.” Goodman mustered courage
to be the messenger.
“Agreed
to what?” Both Steinberg and Ramakrishnan sensed something ugly was going to
happen.
“No
one can, literally no one can know the truth about Lakshadweep. Our official
version is this; the tsunami happened first, then, it hit the power plant, and
the power plant exploded because of it. No one was able to survive. I want
every record of this shit deleted from our archives; digital or any kind of
record of Lakshadweep. You gentlemen will have to erase them”.
“Sir,
are you out of your mind? How can we hide all of these things? Everyone will
question us hard. We won’t get away with that easily.”
“Gentlemen,
don’t try to teach me my job.” Goodman beat the table with his fist hardly. If
our leaders say this is what happened, for the love of God, don’t question it!
Do as I say. Nothing more, nothing less. We need this allegiance to continue.
We need this Mr. President to run the office to proceed our work. We can’t let
our good work to be destroyed for simple mistakes.
Steinberg and Ramakrishnan were terrified. It was nonsensical
or absurd even to imagine to erase Lakshadweep from human memory.
“Our
power lies in our perception of power. The US nuclear industry, be it a collective
project or a lone government project cannot simply fail. Nuclear power is the
future of human civilization. What will happen to our national pride if they
find out we err? Those idiots who call themselves the protectors of nature will
literally rip us apart. I simply can’t let that happen. You will see this as a
mistake or a cover up, but the generations to come will thank us. Yes, my
friends, we will be rewarded in the future for what we do today. History will
justify us.”
“I
know you have second thought on this decisions. But, I warn you. Please, don’t
even try to think of becoming a hero in this godly hour. CIA and NSA will make
sure that your loved ones would get what they deserve if you do a foolish
thing.
…
The Meon Valley Cemetery, Birmingham could have been
more populous or noisier that day.
But, both his wife and parents opted for a quiet
goodbye to James Vince.
For the government of England, he was a member of Most
Excellent Order of the British Empire and deserved a ceremonial funeral. But
for his loved ones, it was a burial of a loving father, loving husband and
loving son. His directorship at a faraway nuclear plant did not matter to them.
What mattered to them was their loss. Their
But, right now he was nothing but a victim of a
natural disaster.
Nothing more. Just a victim of a natural disaster.
What Clara, Katrina, Alex and Harry did not know was
this. Two or three minutes after the explosion of the cable, James Vince
realized that it would be the end for him and all the workers. Suddenly, his
loved ones: his parents, his brother, his wife and his beautiful three children
reeled inside his head. He knew that these were his final thoughts. But, right
after these images, a poem by German poet Martin Niemoller crept into his mind.
He had read it in some book about the Second World War;
First they came for the Communists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Communist …
…And then they came for me
And there was no one left
To speak out for me
He did not know why he remembered this poem exactly. But it just came to
his mind automatically.
The dead leaves were falling apart from trees as if to support the three
children’s quiet sobs. Clara was looking at the coffin emptily. Vince’s mother
and father heaved a deep sigh. They did not know what killed their loving son,
husband or the father. The fading sun said goodbye to Vince for one last time.
And then came for me, and there was no one left, to
speak for me.
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