Lee Kerr - Welcome to the Apocalypse

The ambassador looks at me and nods, his eyes almost pleading. ‘Time is running out and we need a solution today. We are getting ready to intervene across Europe. It is not our homeland, but we know that if the world is to remain secure then our involvement will be required. Having access to your oil will greatly accelerate our efforts, and ultimately, it will protect your country as well.’

I stare back at him, unsure what he expects me to do. I wonder if he thinks I have any power or the ability to make any important decision. I’m simply a victim of circumstance; I have nothing to sell and nothing to bargain with and what I want in return I cannot ask for. I think about trading a few million barrels – if we even have that many – in return for safe passage to the United States. I know that this isn’t just a one-off trip anymore; it’s about my future, a new life in a different world, which I have to buy by the barrel.

‘Well, can you help us?’ the ambassador says, staring at me.

I look around to see that everyone else is doing the same; all staring and pinning their expectations on me. Half of the group want to see the others begging for the world’s most precious resource, and the other half want to buy something I cannot sell. I’m stuck firmly in the middle: my needs are not known by those around me, and will never be discussed.

‘We can sell you what you need, but I warn you that it will be costly,’ I say.

Abdul and Hamza gasp, both of them openly shocked by how I have departed from the script. I wonder if they will go along with me, on the assumption that I intend to make the Americans beg for our liquid gold, or if they will drag me out of the room and then shoot the guests so that no one ever finds out about my insolence. I imagine my treachery being seen by all. I imagine them burying the bodies and repainting the helicopters, and my father returning home to hear how I have let him down, yet again. I have been doing that since I was born, but we all know that this time would be the last time, and that this story would inevitably make me the fourth grave, lined up next to our American visitors.

I hold up a hand, hoping to keep my story going for just a little longer, wondering if I will survive the day. To my surprise they both stay silent, both waiting to see what I will do. Everyone looks at me, no doubt asking themselves if I have the guts to follow through on what I have started.

In the silence I have now created it is the woman of my dreams that are yet to come who speaks first, as I am still wondering how I survived so long in a world without her. ‘We will take everything you have and based on the scale of the purchase we can offer you 40 dollars per barrel.’

I’m still doing the maths in my head as Hamza laughs and Abdul shakes his head. ‘You must take us for fools,’ Abdul says. ‘The scale of the worldwide crisis has pushed the price up, not down.’

She shakes her head and taps things into her tablet, working out sums that don’t exist in anyone but the Americans’ minds. ‘You misunderstand the fundamental issue here: the value of world currencies will also diminish. As the weeks go by and global commerce stops, the value of whatever gold you have will decrease drastically. Tourism will stop and no one will buy anything from you, making this your last chance to sell what you have.’

The ambassador leans forward, looking at Abdul and then Hamza, then finally at me, making me wonder if I’m actually important or I’m just an afterthought. ‘We are on the edge of what is to come and if we boil your economic survivability to its simplest form, your current revenue stream will cease and only what you have buried out there can ever help you,’ he says, looking out of the open window. ‘The vast majority of people are aware that something is happening but they are still in the denial stage. Those who haven’t seen anything or who aren’t directly affected by what has happened will continue to lead their lives as normal, but when the oil runs out and the supply of food is restricted they will realise something is very wrong and they will demand a resolution.’

Abdul laughs and I know his mind is working through how to phrase the inevitable rejection. ‘You would like to borrow our oil so that you keep up with the demands of your people, and what is more you offer payment with barely a few coins that will be worth even less in a few weeks’ time?’

The entire American contingent nods in unison, giving the impression that they have already foreseen this and planned for every possible eventuality. General Martha is the one who sits forward, looking at me. ‘The offer made to you by us today is simply a nominal fee. What you really get is protection from what is out there and what is yet to come. Lend us the oil and we will sign a pact to come to your aid whenever it is needed. You know that we must work together to survive.’

Hamza laughs. ‘We would be better keeping our oil where it is and spending it on our own military. Why should we see it disappear across the ocean when we have our own issues to deal with?’

Abdul suddenly stands up, and General Hamza quickly follows his lead. ‘Our general is right: we need the oil for our own uses. Whatever the new world looks like, we will need it to trade with whoever is left, which may or may not be you. At this moment in time none of us have the answers, so I believe this concludes our negotiations.’

‘You are making a big mistake,’ General Martha says. She is still sitting, but this doesn’t make her seem any less dominant. ‘You will need allies and if you won’t provide what we need then perhaps we will have to go to one of your neighbours.’

‘Do you think we are a stupid people?’ Abdul says, pointing a finger at the general. ‘We are fully aware of what is happening out there and nothing has happened to us. You are scared because you know you are next. The western world is finally meeting its maker and you think that fuelling your military machine will save you, but it will not.’

‘We must secure our place in this new world,’ Jessica says, looking only at me.

I try to answer but I am too confused. I hear what she is saying but I think that everyone here takes different meanings from her words. I desperately try to think of how I can find safety in this frantic new world that she is describing. I look over at the ambassador and Abdul; I see that they are arguing but I can’t hear any of the words.

Absently, I sense Hamza pulling at my arm. He is still shouting and is trying to get me to stand up. I cannot move and only stare at Jessica, taking in all of her beauty. She is so entirely unique. I look at what I want, what I have always wanted and I find it staring back at me. It’s too much to ignore, too big to turn away.

‘Take me with you,’ I blurt out, loud enough for everyone to hear, although only one person notices.

She frowns and leans back, clearly confused.

I lean forward, desperate for her to listen, for her to see that I need a reason to continue ‘You can have the oil for the price you are offering, as long as you promise to protect my people and take me with you. I need full residency, forever. You know that I will never be able to return here.’

She stares at me for a moment, her mind clearly evaluating my proposal. It sounds simple to me, and the only possible answer is yes, but nonetheless she seems to carefully consider every aspect of what I have suggested.

‘We have a deal,’ she says, quietly, smiling only at me.

I breathe properly for what seems like the first time in days, feeling the rush of escape. My new life is finally on the horizon, and I start to think through what I need to take with me and how little time I will have to gather my things. I decide I will take nothing, wanting to make a quick departure, and as I think this, I look around and see that everyone else is still distracted. Hamza is shouting into his radio whilst Abdul is still arguing with the ambassador. I really start to believe that I can pull this off: a prince walking freely out of the palace with those American marines positioned either side of me.