Melisande Mason - 2042 - The Great Cataclysm

He was an enigma, a small angry man puny but fit. He wore his brindle coloured hair shaved close to his skull. A thin, almost invisible scar ran above his left ear down his jawline and pulled the skin on his face, giving him a perpetual sneer that most people mistook for a slight smile. He never smiled, that would give others the impression he liked them, he didn’t like anybody and nobody liked him. He attained the rank of three star general through subterfuge, manipulation and deception and his ambition had no boundaries. He aspired to the highest rank and nothing was going to stop him. Grey piercing eyes that turned dark were the only outward signs that his anger was aroused.

He despised the untrustworthy President whom he could not control, and barely tolerated Vice-president Peterson. Politicians were the bottom of the pack as far as he was concerned, but he would not let them see his antipathy.

However, he agreed with Walker that they could not afford to ignore this situation. Worth had no intention of ignoring it, he planned to exploit it for all it was worth. To enable his plan to work he needed to gain the support of some of his trusted colleagues. If he pulled this off those extra three stars would be his, and he could offer them more than sufficient reward for their loyalty.

The overall scenario ran around in his head. There would be panic all right, but he would make sure he was well out of the way before that occurred. The nuclear shelter known as Mt. Rockwell in the hills surrounding Washington would be his refuge and his realm. He began to wonder if former President Cash had had a vision when he instigated project Star Flight back in 1980. Worth always knew he was destined to do great things, and now the way to that goal had opened up and he wasted no time summonsing the men he wanted by his side. There would be only two who would know his true intentions, the others would simply obey orders.

One of those two men was General Porter Douglas, a general of lower rank than himself but of equal ambition; the other was his ally in the cabinet, Secretary of State Bob Anderson. It had taken years and many favours under-the-table to gain their loyalty for which he now intended to call in his markers. He was far too canny to rely on loyalty alone, and kept a thick dossier on each man with enough information to sink both careers should they decide to turn on him.

The morning after the President’s meeting, Worth called both these men to his office at the Pentagon and told his aide not disturb them.

Secretary Bob Anderson lounged in the visitors chair opposite Worth’s desk and glared at the coffee in his cup, swirling it around several times before drinking its contents. He didn’t get up when Porter Douglas entered the room and Douglas scowled in his direction. Douglas’s breath rasped and he held his hand to his chest, a habit he’d developed since learning of his heart problem. Worth was sure of his support, as Porter Douglas at 62, was being forced into early retirement, which meant he would have to take a cut in salary, and his years of living like a fat calf would come to an abrupt end.

Douglas’s pinched eyes darkened and he returned Bob Anderson’s frown before sitting in the other chair beside him. The men greeted each other curtly and General Worth pulled a file from his drawer and passed it to Douglas. ‘We had a very interesting meeting with the President yesterday, Douglas.’ He rasped. ‘Read through this while I order some coffee. More for you Anderson?’

‘Yeah. Thanks.’ Anderson replied lighting up a small cigar. He leaned back and silently watched while Douglas read through the report. Smoke from the cigar wafted toward the general who coughed loudly.

Anderson sneered and puffed an extra cloud of smoke toward Douglas.

Douglas sniffed and returned to the report as the aide brought the coffee.

Bob Anderson’s thoughts drifted back to the previous night’s game when he’d dropped a large amount of cash. He’d being doing too much of that lately, and if kept up he would have to sell his Ferrari. He fingered his neat moustache that was beginning to show signs of grey, and worry lines furrowed his smooth brow. He idly tapped his fingers on the desk impatiently wondering why Worth had called this meeting.

Worth remained still, with his left elbow resting on the desk, fingers caressing his mouth tapping out some rhythm only he could hear. Douglas laid down the file.

‘Is this a joke?’

‘No. Well some people think it is, but I think not.’

‘Who’s this Torrens character?’ He asked Worth.

‘Scientist. Fairly good one too from what I hear.’

Douglas turned to Anderson. ‘What about you Anderson? Do you believe this?’

‘Damned if I know. What I believe doesn’t count.’

‘What’s the President stance?’ Douglas said swivelling his head to each of them.

‘That bastard would accept anything if he thought it’d make him look good.’ Worth growled.

‘Then I take it he believes Torrens?’ Douglas said.

Worth stood and walked to the window, gripping his hands behind his back. He seemed distracted for a moment. ‘He’s calling another meeting today.’

‘Why did you call me here?’ Douglas asked.

‘You’re going to love this, but I don’t wanna hear about it outside this room?’

Bob Anderson pricked up his ears. He shared Worth’s dislike for President Walker and he thrived on intrigue of any kind. ‘You’ve got my word. What about you Douglas?’

Douglas nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘It’s no secret that I don’t get along with Walker, or Peterson either for that matter.’ Worth said. ‘I don’t trust either of them. They couldn’t run a goddamn ice-cream stand. Walker baulks me whatever way he can. I know it’s him stopping my rise in the ranks. Probably yours too Douglas. He’s got his favourites, the ones he can control. Cooper’s one of them. We need someone in charge who recognises our talents, or be persuaded to.’

‘Just who do you think that’d be?’ Anderson said.

‘Peterson perhaps.’

‘That shitbag!’ Anderson scoffed. ‘What makes you think he’ll be any different?’

Worth grinned and studied his fingernails. ‘I’ve got some dirt on him that’ll guarantee co-operation.’

Both Douglas and Anderson squirmed in their seats.

‘Why can’t you do the same with Walker?’ Douglas said.

‘Yeah, well. The worst I can get on him is that he beats his wife.’

Douglas leaned forward narrowing his eyes. ‘He beats his wife?’

Worth wagged his head. ‘Yeah, he beats his wife.’ He mimicked. ‘Yet that’s not enough to make him step aside. I’d have no proof unless the First Lady confirms it. He’d probably end up giving her a fatal blow to shut her up, then his henchmen would cover it up. Anyway it could be something I can use come the time.’

‘Come the time for what?’ Douglas asked.

‘There’ll be so much confusion in the ranks leading up to this event, it won’t be hard to see that Walker has an accident’.

‘You’re planning to kill the President?’ Douglas’s voice raised a few decibels. ‘I wont’ have any part of it!’

‘Who asked you? Did you hear me say that? I said an accident. Accidents happen.’

Anderson had been listening with growing interest. ‘Then Peterson steps in, the one you’ve got a shitload of dirt on. Goddamned brilliant! Yet I don’t see you risking everything for another three stars.’

‘Apart from money what do you think controls the people?’

Anderson shrugged and looked at Douglas.

‘Food! Control the food and you control the masses.’

‘So this’s about control?’

Worth sighed. He rose from his chair to pace the room. ‘What d’you think the future’s going to be like? All our technological advances won’t mean shit. We’ve been building alternative communities on government land for the past twenty years. A big majority of the people have taken up the interest-free loans to relocate, but they’re really pissed off about abandoning their cushy existences in the cities to live in substandard, basic roof-over-the-head homes. Millions have resisted the move, hoping the sea will stop rising, but guess what? If what Torrens says is true, none of that will matter, our major cities will disappear under a wall of water taking with it everything that everyone owns.