Listen to the Birds Read online

  Listen to the Birds

  K.E. Lanning

  Copyright © 2019 All rights reserved. ISBN-13: 978-0-9991210-5-4

 
  PROLOGUE

  THE MELT began a century ago. The ice thawed, bit by bit, until a dramatic shift of the ocean’s currents moved warm waters to the polar regions. Within a human life-span, the ice caps vanished and the oceans rose, drowning the coastlines of Earth. Sea creatures flourished, whereas the beasts of the land fought for life. And above them all, the moon reigned the seas, commanding the waves along the shore, grinding the new coasts from rock to sand.

  In the year 2112, on a rocky beach near Pau, France, two children ran down the shoreline, their laughter muffled under the crash of waves. A reflection in the rocks caught the children’s attention. Shrieking gulls circled over their heads as they knelt and dug up a half-buried bronze plaque. Like a pirate’s treasure, they took it to the edge of the surf and washed away the crusted mud, revealing etched words.

  “C’est de l’anglais.”

  “Oui!” The boy jerked the sign from her hands. “Il est à moi!”

  The girl shouted angrily to her mother, watching from the rocks above them. “Maman!”

  Their mother waved. “Venez ici, les enfants.”

  They raced up the hill to her beckoning hand. The boy gave her the plaque and they sat beside her.

  “Okay, children, let’s practice our English.” A smile on her face, she held up the plaque, but her smile faded as she silently read the words.

  “Read it out loud, Mommy,” the little boy said.

  The girl squeezed her mother’s arm. “You’re crying, Mommy.”

  The mother blinked back her tears. She touched the name LONDON and the date at the bottom of the sign. “Children, this is from the old city of London, England, in the year 2020, before The Melt.”

  “London is under the ocean now?” The boy asked.

  “Yes, Antoine, like so many other cities of the world.” She cleared her throat and read the words:

  The age of modern mythology is upon us.

  Humans, now half god and half beast—with thunderbolts of Zeus

  and arrows of Artemis—have the power to destroy the world.

  The sirens of Earth call us onto

  the rocks of our Folly.

 
  CHAPTER 1

  The solar-powered plane glided silently over a low mountain range and into a valley draped in snow. John gazed out the window. Though it held no warmth, the pale sunlight streamed across the lingering snow, marking the end of the depressing Antarctic winter.

  A V-shaped formation of Magellan geese paralleled the plane. John pointed out of the window to his flight companion, Dr. Noelle Clavet. “Check out our escorts.”

  Like a troupe of dancers, the graceful birds cut through the air, their feathers glistening in the muted light.

  “Magnificent!” Dr. Clavet breathed.

  “In that species, the males are black-and-white and the females brown. It’s a bit early for them, but I suspect they’ve staked out a home near one of the hot springs.”

  She cocked her head, listening to the honking geese. “The plane is so quiet, I can hear them.”

  “Once aloft, the Hawkplane glides silently on the wind.”

  “If it’s solar-powered, how does it fly in the dark times?”

  With his thumb, John gestured to the rear of the plane. “We have hydrogen fuel cells as a backup.”

  The plane drifted above the river and John shielded his eyes from its mirrored surface. A family of otters played on the ice, plunging in and out of a hole near the bank. Just beyond the river, a herd of caribou pawed through the snow, seeking the pale spring grasses underneath.

  He turned and studied Dr. Clavet, staring transfixed at the panorama. A professor at Cornell University, she had PhDs in both biology and philosophy. Dr. Clavet was here to lead a group of university students, including his daughter Ginnie, in a study of Antarctica’s wildlife refuges. But Ginnie had failed to mention that she was lovely—blue-green eyes set in a sculptured face with curved lips, framed by curly salt-and-pepper hair.

  Dr. Clavet said in a melodious French accent, “So nice of you to arrange this flight over the Concordia refuge—it’s simply spectacular.” She pointed to wisps of steam drifting across the river. “The geothermal features remind me of Yellowstone Park.”

  “We have hot springs all through this area. After the Melt, the UN stocked the refuge with cold-climate animals, but the warm currents ensure they have year-round access to water.”

  The plane banked away from the refuge and started back toward the city of Amundsen.

  “Dr. Clavet, I’m curious on the timing of your trek,” John said. “It’s early spring and there’s still a lot of snow on the ground, especially in the backcountry.”

  “Please call me Noelle,” she said. “We have planned a series of these expeditions to track animals and study their habitats through the seasons, though only remotely through the dark time. Less vegetation at this time gives us more opportunities to catch sight of animals. The students will be arriving over the next week or two, and we have orientations and packing to do, so we won’t be heading out for a bit.” She crossed her fingers. “And I hope for good weather.”

  With a tilt of her head, Noelle smiled. “I tell you, your work here is incredible, Mr. President. Antarctica is one of the first countries to create a cabinet-level position dedicated to give a voice to the environment and not just shill for big business.” She gestured with her hands as if weighing one against the other. “To be able to balance nature and the human population—it’s more than any other country has managed in the history of the world.”

  John arched an eyebrow. “Wrestling match is a more accurate term to describe it.”

  She chuckled. “I’ve read about the protests.”

  “We have a fun-loving group in Antarctica. My vision was to leave the land as untouched as possible. But the real credit goes to our Secretary of the Environment, Elena Brovanec. She was on the original team creating the refuge areas and she agreed to join my cabinet. It’s been quite a battle, and we’ve used tax incentives, land trades, and whatever hammer we could find, to pull off the master plan. But it has to be rational and balanced, or it will fail the test of time.”

  “Let’s hope it becomes a blueprint for other nations.”

  With crossed fingers, he nodded. “I’m nearing the end of my term, and I hope it will be so ingrained in the political and social fabric that it becomes a permanent legacy.”

  “A sad day for Antarctica when you leave office. I assume you won’t run again?”

  “Thank God we have strict one-term limits for political office. I will be delighted to get back to my quiet farm.” He grinned. “I won’t miss the politicians. Like sharks, they have to keep their mouths moving, or they’ll die.”

  “Sounds like university professors.” She looked at him. “The opening of the continent has had its challenges. I read that Antarctica’s first president was assassinated?”

  “Yeah, Durant was a corrupt S.O.B., so no loss there.” He grimaced. “But that’s how I got stuck with the job—allowing my name to be placed on the ballot for president of Antarctica.”

  They soared above the farmlands. John chewed his lip at the sight of the fields now locked under a sheet of snow, veiling the fertile black soil. He missed the smell of the earth as it was laid open by the plow, and the sound of the wind rippling through tall wheat. One year he had been a farmer, the sun on his face, breathing in the clean air. He had flourished as a man.

  The farmlands faded from view as the plane lifted over the last ridgeline, and the city of Amundsen came into sight.

  John c
lenched his jaw. While he’d been kickstarting a government, Ginnie had grown up and left for college. After his wife’s murder, he and his daughter had escaped the corrupt Old World to start a new life in Antarctica, but now, instead of farming his land, his days were filled with politics. Where had the time gone? He stared out of the window. All because of one woman—Lowry Walker.

  “Do you know a woman named Lowry Walker?” Noelle asked.

  John jerked around to face Noelle. “What are you saying?”

  “I said that we’ve hired a woman named Lowry Walker as our guide for the expedition.”

  “Oh. I see.” Embarrassed, he turned away.

  Noelle narrowed her eyes. “Is there something you need to tell me about her?”

  He cleared his throat. “No, no, I was just startled to hear her name. Lowry grew up on Antarctica. She’d make a wonderful guide.”

  “Okay, good.” Noelle grinned. “Ginnie was the one who recommended her, but you had me worried for a second.”

  John turned back to stare out of the window, clasping the arm of his seat.

  Noelle coughed. “I hate to be forward, but I seem to have hit a nerve.”

  It had been ages since he had spoken of his past relationship with Lowry. In Amundsen, by necessity, he had to erect barriers to his feelings and control his reactions. He dug his nails into the armrest. He had loved his wife, but Lowry had been his true love. Or so I thought.

  He cleared his throat, feeling her eyes study him. Strangely, he found himself trusting Noelle. A fleeting smile grazed his face. “She and I were planning to be married. It didn’t work out.”

  “She fell in love with someone else?”

  “Lowry betrayed me.” He exhaled, then shook his head. “Not by loving another man, but by betraying the man I had become.”

  * * *

  The plane landed smoothly. They unbuckled and walked toward the exit. John’s security Drots followed him closely.

  John waved to the pilot. “Thanks for a great flight, Alex.”

  She smiled at him. “You’re welcome, sir.”

  When they reached the tarmac, the Drots unfolded from the drone shape into a cascading robot form with mechanical arms and legs.

  Noelle’s mouth dropped open. “I thought those were simple drones?”

  “I’m afraid not.” He shook his head. “One of the ‘advantages’ of the formation of a new country is that everyone wants to give you stuff so they can market their products.” John pointed to the Drots as the presidential robocar hovered to a stop beside them. “These are the latest security robots, called Drots: half-drone, half-robot. They’re made from light-weight titanium, and in fighting mode, as they are now, they distend into their full form. But as drones, they can travel faster than a hovercar.”

  Like metallic spider monkeys, they circled the perimeter around him and the robocar faster than any human, their domed oval “heads” spinning as they perused the area.

  Noelle looked askance. “They’re freaky, but amazingly quiet.”

  Nodding, John grinned. “Definitely freaky. Part of the stealth aspect is the noise-cancelling design of the hover mechanism.”

  John gestured to the robocar. “Our chariot awaits.”

  Noelle grimaced, pointing at the Drots. “Do they ride inside?”

  He chuckled. “No, they’ll collapse into drone mode and escort us from above.”

  “Good.”

  They stepped into the robocar and John gave the order. “Downtown.”

  Closely followed by his security drones, they hovered from the government hangar toward the road connecting the airport to Amundsen. In the pale sun, they skimmed across a flat barren landscape, dotted with clumps of brush veiled in a glistening layer of ice.

  As they passed a dense thicket of Antarctic beech shrubs, a great snowy owl burst from the shadowy branches. The Drots hovered to investigate and the startled bird dodged around them, flying directly toward the robocar. Noelle gasped as the giant owl grazed the window next to her, and poised for a second, wings flapping against the glass, its round eyes staring into hers. With a beat of its wings, the owl soared over the top of the vehicle and disappeared into the distance.

  Noelle leaned back in the seat. “Terrifying, but what a beauty!”

  John raised his hands with a smile. “Welcome to Antarctica!”

  As the robocar hovered onto the main avenue to the city, John said, “This is one of the few roads we have on Antarctica, mainly for heavy trucks transporting materials to and from the airport. Most of the continent is accessed by hovers so we don’t have to cut roads across the terrain.”

  “Excellent.”

  At the edge of the city, John waved his hand at a large undulating structure of steel and glass rising from the ground. “That will be the new University of Antarctica, hopefully open in a year or so. Maybe you can teach a course or two when it opens.”

  “Absolutely. We should have our Concordia Refuge study completed by then.”

  They reached the downtown area, passing modern buildings of glass and stone, connected with arched passageways.

  John pointed to the glass channels between the buildings. “Because of the brutal winters, the city has sheltered conduits throughout.”

  “Makes sense.” Noelle nodded. “I love the layout of the city, especially with no wires aboveground.”

  “Most buildings are designed to be self-contained with renewables and backup systems, but for larger buildings and light industrial manufacturing, we needed a few utility lines, so we used boring robots to drill access under the frost line.”

  They continued through a roundabout. John gestured to a sculpture rising from a concrete basin in the center of the circle. “All the liquid wastewater is recycled for irrigation and drinking. In the warm times, we have ‘recycling’ fountains throughout the city.” He grinned. “After it’s been processed, of course.”

  “Good. Now I can erase the vision of yellow water shooting into the air.”

  John laughed. “Yeah, that might not be too esthetic.” He tilted his head. “Between the UN and our people here, we wanted to create the first city in the world as self-sufficient as possible. Recycling is mandatory, but we’ve tried to make it easy to comply, with efficient recovery and utilization, before massive dumps were in place.”

  “And no unnatural chemicals are allowed on Antarctica?”

  “That’s correct. Prior to the melting of the ice cap, the UN had a chemical ban which we’ve inherited and reinforced.”

  The robocar stopped at Noelle’s hotel.

  John checked his watch. “I didn’t realize it was so close to noon. Would you like some lunch?”

  “Thanks so much, but, um, I’m actually meeting Lowry Walker for lunch.” Noelle touched his arm. “Perhaps you’d like to join us?”

  He coughed. “No, you two will have a lot to discuss.”

  The door of the robocar opened.

  Noelle shifted toward the opening. “Merci for the lovely tour.”

  “You’re welcome, Noelle.”

  She paused, glancing at him with a kind smile. “John, one thing that I’ve learned—love is not something which gets damaged. It either exists or doesn’t exist. And if it exists, then all else can be fixed.”

  Frowning, John turned away. “Can it?”

 
  CHAPTER 2

  The next morning, John waited in his office for a meeting with Representative Kara Banis. John’s Chief of Staff, Kisho Mori, stepped in. “Representative Banis has just arrived and will be here shortly.”

  “Thank you, Kisho.” He nodded as Kisho moved discreetly behind the desk.

  Kisho had immigrated from Japan with the first wave of homesteaders and had proven himself to be a diamond in the rough. A nondescript fellow in appearance, but his strength was his intelligence. He had done a superb job of organizing the president’s office and he had an inborn political savvy that John needed. He was invaluable.

  John rose at the clip-clip of
business shoes in the hallway. Head thrown back, Representative Banis strode into the room. She was well known in the assembly as a force of nature.

  With a smile on her face and a firm grip, she shook his extended hand. “Good morning, Mr. President.”

  He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Please sit and tell me what you need.”

  Banis nodded to Kisho, and then sat facing John. She inclined her head. “I’ll get straight to the point, Mr. President.” Her hand chopped the air like a hatchet. “Our district is expanding, but we can’t afford this next set of recycling costs—they’re simply too expensive.”

  John shook his head. “You know as well as I do that if we don’t set up recycling as a part of the infrastructure, there’s a huge expense of disposal down the road.”

  He gazed at her. “You’re relatively new to our fair nation, but on Antarctica, everything is either recycled or composted—even humans. We mulch the deceased and ‘intern’ them into our gardens. We won’t allow items into the country that don’t comply with our recycling systems.” He tilted back in his chair. “The UN grants are still available for infrastructure development. Have you applied for one?”

  She nodded. “Yes, we have, but that takes time. We want to start right away.”

  Shrugging, John said, “We can help with a bridge grant if you have all your documents submitted.” He studied her closed face. There’s something else she’s angling for.

  He coughed. “Let’s move onto your next topic.”

  Banis pursed her lips and leaned forward. “We need power, sir. Mr. President, we want to build an assembly plant for more advanced hovers, both bikes and utility craft. But renewables alone will not completely satisfy our electricity needs. I believe the fusion power plant comes online soon?”

  “Yes, within a month.”

  Her voice rose. “We’d like to be first in line to get a connection to our district.”