Ascendant Saga Collection: Sci-Fi Fantasy Techno Thriller Brandon Ellis (ebook reader for comics txt) 📖

His face went slack. “No, no. That can’t be.” He read more, and made a fist, his mind going to all those people left behind. To all those citizens that paid taxes, that believed the United States government cared for them. Or, at least, thought the government had an ounce of decency. But, as he read, he realized they didn’t. Not in the slightest. Them leaving on a jet ride to Callisto should have been his first clue.

These politicians, scientists, engineers, and doctors weren’t coming back for the people of the United States. Not like they said, or ever. They left the people to their own accord, governmentless. Sayonara. So long.

According to the document, the politicians came along for the ride because they were skilled in enacting a legitimate government. But did they all know they weren’t coming back for the rest of the United States population? Probably. Jaxx rolled his eyes. But Slade and President Martelle also brought along the best geniuses the government could find, and that’s what they’d need, those brains and their children to seed the moon. All with the idea that the most brilliant minds would create a more robust civilization of humans. They’d thrive on a moon, a moon Jaxx still had no idea if it could be inhabited or not.

But Slade wouldn’t take a risk like this if he didn’t know humans could survive on Callisto, so Jaxx assumed it was habitable. The pyramids could be more than a hint, but it wasn’t evidence enough that it had enough oxygen for humanity. Perhaps if ancient Atlanteans indeed established a civilization on Callisto, maybe they used a breathing apparatus, converting whatever chemical components making up the atmosphere into breathable, sustainable air.

He swiped the document to the side. Another one shined like a diamond; Coming Deluge. He jabbed an index finger through it, and it pulled up. Again, he read. A lot of head shaking later, he wrinkled his brow. “Bullshit. None of this is proven. You look to the past to the see cycles.”

Slade and his scientists were convinced that Earth was headed toward another worldwide flood, and into the next ice age, and in Slade’s lifetime. The document indicated that with global warming, the melting glaciers, and the rising waters, life as Slade knew it wouldn’t exist for much longer. The coasts where most people lived would be covered. Billions dead. Economic collapse. Governments toppled.

Maybe. With greenhouse gasses, more than plausible. But one couldn’t ignore past cycles, because they were possible and still in play. A deluge may not be in store, not for a few thousand years, which would meet the past average interglacial durations that lasted around fifteen thousand years. The current interglacial age had around two thousand years left before the next ice age.

In the past, carbon dioxide followed warming by a lag of eight hundred years or more. NASA now claimed that carbon dioxide had narrowed that lag. And past it.

But, again, cycles. In each age, interglacial or ice age, warming periods struck up seemingly out of nowhere. The Minoan global warming age. It had a warm spike. The Roman warm period and the medieval warm period. Both with global warming spikes themselves. All within the current interglacial age. The age of today. Without a hundred percent certainty, the global spike humanity experienced at the moment could merely be another warming phase.

Slade was taking a gamble. Evacuating Earth, but for what benefit? It had to be more than an idea of a massive climate change, something not set in stone. Even the document Jaxx read, Slade’s scientists proclaimed global warming could be slowed down if people, industry, and governments altered their ways.

Him and the government leaving was tied to something else. What did Slade gain from this venture? Notoriety? His own government to run alongside the president of the United States of America?

“Get off your tangent, Jaxx,” he told himself. He had one mission. Get the bridge’s access codes.

He swiped the document away just as voices echoed outside the door. He went rigid, and held his breath. He flicked the Lectern off, and ran his finger down the light switch on the wall, dimming the room to black. The voices came louder.

He felt his way around a wall. Then remembered the bed. He dashed in its direction, and went to his stomach, the floor cold. He jimmied himself underneath the bed, his back scraping the wood slats holding the mattress.

The suite’s door opened and he tucked his feet under the frame. His heart beat like a sledge hammer on a drum. He mouthed swear words. If Slade found him, a few bullets in the temple would end Jaxx quickly. And this time, Slade wouldn’t hesitate.

The lights on and Slade’s clacking boots filled Jaxx’s ears, accompanied by another’s.

“Don’t worry about him. We’ll find the bastard.” It was President Martelle. “We’ll turn him to the light side. He’s just confused, perhaps some space sickness, or whatever the doctors call that shit.”

“I’m not worried about him. I’m worried we won’t get to Callisto in time, Mr. President,” said Slade.

“We have all the time in the world.”

“Not exactly.”

Jaxx saw their shoes from across the room. They headed to a table. The chairs slid across the floor and they both took a seat.

“Need a Scotch?” asked Slade.

“When don’t I need a Scotch, but hold off on that.”

“You can’t take that smile off your face, can you, Mr. President?”

Martelle patted his stomach. “A good dinner.”

“That’s not it.”

A pause. “Look, you and your science team got us out of a global warming pickle. We’re heading to Callisto. Then after the government is set up, we start the second wave, third wave, fourth wave, and so on. We bring our citizens to our new home.”

Jaxx bit his lip. Martelle still didn’t know. Slade kept it in the dark. How would Slade convince Martelle and the rest of the politicians not to bring the waves