Secret Scientist

Sand. Not dirt, grime, soil or the beach variety: desert...sand.

Grieg tried to push him self up, but the boot in his back held him down. The taste of sand mixed with death added to his growing list of grievances against the substance on which he lay. He swore then and there that he was going to make the sand pay.

"Eh b'ys I bet he's got lip jigs on him, search him."

Replacing the boot were a dozen hands frantically slapping, poking, fingering every place a perceived pocket could be on his person. When the over eager swat team found nothing, the hands turned to boots. This wasn’t the first time the local ‘militia’ had accosted him looking for the elusive ‘lip jigs’.

"This main-lander aint got a thing on him" one of the kickers said.

"Mark let the man go, we got the intel and now we have a target."

The information was old enough to keep them off his trail. Another month and it wouldn’t matter.

Mark bent down and whispered into his ear, “I know who you are, and why you are here, don’t let me catch you out here again.”

The man had no idea.

He had not seen their faces, but then no one ever did. Their head gear marked them a guerrilla group called the “Faceless”. The Faceless dealt in contraband and made life a living hell for the local authorities. They wore masks to hide their identity but the woman who spoke gave up a high priced commodity. The name Mark. The man spit in Grieg's direction and missed his head by mere inches. That was close. Creatures living in out there would kill a man for a drop of moisture before they even noticed it.

"Alright b'ys lets move out!”

After a boot to the ribs, a vehicle revved up. Grieg turned his head enough to see a half dozen guerrillas hop onto a military style truck and roar off in the direction of the city. He stood up, brushed himself off and followed after the truck. It was going to take the rest of the day to get back to the lab.

Every time he took a walk out into the desert Grieg thought about the events that brought about the vast changes in the climates of the world. The environment, the social, and the political change. Everything had changed since the day that they dropped fire from the sky.

They claimed climate change wasn't real. In fact scientists proved the theory. But it happened, just not for the reasons anyone imagined it would. When it was proven that climate change could not happen due to the gears of industry, they turned to the gears of war to make it happen. Science fiction called it “Terraforming”, Science non-fiction described it as a “Controlled Nuclear Apocalypse”.

In the year 2442, scientists blew up the polar ice caps. The theory was that purposely melting the ice at the temperatures of a nuclear blast would see over a trillion gigatons of water added into the weather cycle. The hope was to refill the many aquifers that had been drained dry by the ever growing population of Northern Hemisphere. That was the official statement.

What the general public wasn't told was the polar ice caps covered some of the largest mineral deposits ever found. The resulting weather drastically changed the face of the globe. Major floods pushed the surface soils of the earth in all directions. Oceans filled. Rock was exposed. Swamps became major water ways. Major water ways dried up. The most drastic changes came in places like the Canadian Province of Newfoundland. Where once existed a thriving ecosystem of wetlands, lakes and rivers, now consisted of desert wasteland, pockets of sand, and mountains of exposed rock.

With the change in environment came change in humanity. It was estimated that over 3 billion people died in the ten years it took before the weather stabilized. Most of that was due to famine and homelessness. The over whelming change shifted the social climate around the globe. Few places Grieg had been to exemplified that more than Newfoundland. Once a people known to be some of the worlds friendliest were now...He spit thinking of it.

Three hours trudging through the cold desert sands of Newfoundland gave him thousands of time to think about how much he hated it there.

Reaching the city an hour before night fall felt like an accomplishment. He wasn’t long in finding rations before heading to his lab. His lab was a secret. He had a desk, a viewer, a few trinkets and his map. He flipped up his viewer when he sat down to eat and began scrying for news on the war.

War, another needless change in the world.

"Europe is gone" Grieg whispered as he read the news. The University Coalition of Science had pushed their military efforts through to the tips of Portugal and Ireland at last. Not an inch of land was left for any resistance from the old European Union. The UCS was ruthless. That meant his research was going to be in high demand very soon.

Political climates also changed. The Old European Union was completely destroyed. Europe and Russia had turned into desert wastelands, and the arid countries of the 10-40 window were enjoying lush conditions that had not been seen in thousands of years. The polar ice caps, had turned into tropical paradises over night, in spite of the Nuclear atrocity. As the actual landscape changed so too did the political one. The UCS wasted no time in pushing for control over the now desert area people were quickly deserting.

Money driven politics, and resource driven Money, drove the population north and south, leaving the political landscape of the new desert territories in the hands of thugs. What was once a bastion of civilization had become a wasteland of blood. However one organization had positioned its self to bring order into the chaos as if they had planned it all along.

The UCS.

Before the discussion of the ice-caps had been brought to the table, leadership of the Li-Don University in central Asia had gained support from every major university on the planet and created an alliance in the name of science. The official alliance was called the University Coalition of Science, or UCS for short. By the time the polar nukes were launched, the UCS had transformed into a military power house with the aim of leading the world into a new dawn of prosperity. Their first act was to set up refugee initiatives in order to gain favor among the general public. Ten years later through political wrangling and a very concise military push they had full control over the entirety of old Russia and the Old European Union.

He didn’t like over reaching conglomerates anymore than the next guy, but he couldn’t help but admire the strategy they used, it was flawless.

Grieg scrolled through the news looking for something else. New orders. He was told that as soon as Portugal fell that secret messages would appear in the news regarding the impending invasion of North America, beginning with Newfoundland. He was doing far more than research on the island. He had also been commissioned to gather information on the defenses of the city of Botwood, the planned landing spot for UCS troops. There was next to none. In fact the whole coast he had travelled didn’t hold enough troops to win at tug o’ war. When UCS troops landed it would be a blood bath. He wouldn’t be sorry to see the bastards gone who got to him earlier. Good riddance.

A number of headlines broke news on scientific discovery too. If there was one redeeming quality of the apocalyptic climate change it was new opportunities for science. The climate in the scientific community could not be more prosperous. Where once a new discovery was reported every day, now it was closer to five every day. He was getting close to his own new discovery, all that remained was live testing.

The desert that now sat atop the island of Newfoundland was cold and harsh. Where once the landscape boasted a great forest of jack-pine and birch was nothing more than dead trees and sand. The only bit of the island that didn't loose its vegetation was a three mile band along the coast the islanders called "The Crust."

His theory: Filtering sea water through arid desert sands.

It was an old and tired theory but he had a break through that required testing on a large scale.

Grieg's discovery was not as sensational as the rumored mind abilities that professors of the Li-Don university were said to be working on, but his research was going to revolutionize the planet yet again. It would be a slow process, and would only work in the arid desert landscapes but fortunately these places were still growing by the day. Satisfied that there was no messages for him coming through news channels, he got up and walked over to his map.

On the clear white board hung a large map. Pulling a scale from the desk jockey at his hip he measured from the dot that marked his lab and then marked an 'ex' in red. Standing back he reviewed his mark and was satisfied with the myriad of 'exes' he had marked. All prime locations for drilling. He plucked the small silver box from his desk and opened it. Giving the box a tap on the bottom end freed a cigarette. Extracting the tobacco stick with his lips he closed the box and pressed the plunger on it’s spine. Flame met cigarette and a long draw lit his ‘lip jig’.

“Lip jig. Like yer jigging for cod when you talk, so its a lip jig b’y.” That was the only time he laughed since coming to the island. The seller looked at him like he had three heads, but he couldn’t help it. They may have turned into a rude people, but they had some funny sayings.

Searching his desk produced a thin black book. He opened it to the just the other side of center and recorded his measurements and angles from his field book. His surveying efforts had paid off. His location that day marked the 500 such places to drill. Now that his research was done, all that was left to do was find suitable places do set up the directional drilling rigs.

His research mimicked the basic principal of Irrigation. The greatest difference was the scale. What he had planned would be much larger than any irrigation system ever built. Surrounded by sea water and hundreds of abandoned directional drilling rigs from it’s hey day in oil production, made Newfoundland the optimal place to test out his theory. Once the holes were drilled pumping sea water to the center of the island would be a piece of cake. The sand dunes would make excellent filters to purify the water. The goal was lofty, but one that had the money and people backing it up to make it happen, all he had to do was do a little bit of recon for the war effort as well as his own project.

If the experiment worked it would change climates of the world yet again, as would his status in life.

Grieg was brought out of his daydream by knocking on the labs main door. Putting his cigarette out, he went over to see who was there. Looking through the peep sight in the door, he saw two women in police uniforms waiting for him to answer.

He opened the door and greeted the officers but didn't welcome them in.

"We have a report that you were assaulted by a group of soldiers today, can you verify your whereabouts?"

Grieg internally cursed, it was the woman from earlier on the dunes.

"I can ma'am, I was on the dunes today."

"Doing what exactly."

"I was scouting, a part of my research."

"Did you see anyone while you were out there."

"I was ambushed by some soldiers if that is what you mean."

"Were you carrying any weapons?"

"Just my clinometer and a measuring rod."

“What are those?”

“Survey devices.”

"Any GPS, or wireless electronic devices?"

"Ma'am, I am aware that they are outlawed on the island, I don't carry such items around."

"But you do have them?"

"No, I am completely wired to the network"

"Do you mind if we come in and search your lab mister..."

"McGregor, Grieg McGregor."

Grieg looked around the room calculating as the ladies made their search.

The back up was in the other room, his viewer had no hard drive of its own, and the map he could always draw again.

"Sir, what's this?"

Grieg looked to where the woman pointed, it was an old piece of equipment called a Total Station. It was almost 400 old. It was a piece of equipment that could do all of the calculations a surveyor needed with a touch of a button. They were banned over a hundred years ago. It was illegal to own any instrument that could be used as a guidance system was. It was exactly why he had it.

"That there is a relic from the 21st century, a total station."

"What does it do?"

"Nothing, I have no battery for it."

That was a lie but she would never find it, not in that lab.

"What was it used for?"

"Surveying."

"Surveying. Are you aware that all electronic surveying gear has been banned in the North Americas?"

"I do. But I have a decoration permit."

"I need to see that."

“Right away”

Grieg went to the other room where his safe was. He dialed the digital combination and opened the door. Reaching inside pulling out a silver handled carbide pistol, and a remote tasing device: his permits. He pulled the stack of cash, and three data sticks placing them in to various concealed pockets. There was also an ID badge. He took in hand.

This was going to make his third lab.

Grieg walked out of the room and handed his badge to the first officer. She took it with out noticing his pockets full of weapons. The other one had her back to him looking through items on his desk. As the first officer took the badge, he pulled the remote tasering device from his pocket aimed it at the officer with her back to him and fired. The woman went down in a heap with out a scream. Her partner with his badge in hand whirled around to see what the noise was only to take a carbon bullet in the back.

Grieg sighed. He was going to have to set up again. He retrieved his map, his box of cigarettes, and returned the total station into it’s red carrying case then made for the door. Just as he got to the door, he heard the electrified officer making noise. He turned and shot. The deep orange hue of hot carbon streaking across the room died between the eyes. He remembered, the other one had his badge. Retrieving it, he went back to the door and swiped it over a panel hidden by wall paper.

“Initiate Sequence: India Sierra Delta Zero Zero Seven.”

"Internal destruction sequence double oh seven confirmed. Please sate your name to begin countdown." Standard UCS home security came with a handy self destruct mechanism.

He held no attachment for the lab or remorse for the two women inside. It was business, it was war. He stepped over the threshold and as the door closed said, "McGregor, Grieg McGregor."

"McGregor. Grieg. UCS commander Grieg McGregor, secret science division, speech pattern accepted, vocal recognition accepted, have a nice-”