2042: The Great Cataclysm (17 page)

The guard came alive as they approached. ‘State your name and business!’ he snapped.

‘I’m Captain Bronson, this’s Nick Torrens. We’ve got an appointment with the Prime Minister.’  They fumbled for their identity cards and pushed them through the gate where they fell to the ground.

The guard took a step back. It was not normal for the Minister to see people at his home, especially on Saturday. Swiftly raising the rifle to shoulder height he pointed the laser directly at them. ‘I don’t care who you are get your hands off that gate or I’ll shoot!’

‘I told you, we’ve got an appointment!’ Nick said.

‘Stand back from the gate!’ The guard snapped. Lowering the rifle carefully he pulled a radio off his hip. ‘There’s two blokes at the gate. Reckon they’ve got an appointment with the Minister.’

The radio crackled back ‘What’s their names?’

The guard reached down stiffly and picked up their identity cards. ‘Bronson & Torrens.’

‘It’s okay. Let them in.’

The guard opened the gate, shrugged his shoulders and walked back to a small guard house beside the gate to record their visit.

A dog barked and Graham and Nick looked up to see a tall man approaching along the gravel driveway leading to the house, with a large black Doberman straining at the leash in his hand. He introduced himself as George, the Prime Minister’s butler.

‘Come this way.’ He sniffed, turning without looking at Nick and Graham.

They hurried along behind the brusque well-dressed figure through an avenue of tall ornamental trees and perfectly tended garden beds bordered by a neatly trimmed Golden Cyprus hedge.  Another man in a crisp suit waited under the arches of the 1927 Georgian stone mansion and politely led them into the house to an office beside the foyer. The entire place had been renovated in 2026 at enormous cost to the taxpayers, only the exterior shell remained as a testament to the stone mason’s skills, from an era when life was simple. They were shown into a small room not unlike the US President’s office, only one quarter the size.

‘Why is it that these people always have an office lined with books? I thought the only books left were in public libraries.’ Graham whispered from the side of his mouth. ‘When do they get time to read them anyway?’

A large open window allowed a cool June breeze to wisp in with traces of the sweet perfume of the Camellias in the garden. They made themselves comfortable in the plump armchairs and waited silently, enjoying the musky leather smell.

The door squeaked open and they jumped to their feet to greet a haggard Prime Minister.

‘Morning gentlemen. Thanks for coming, I’m eager to hear any information you can give me.’

‘Sorry to disturb you at home Sir,’ Nick said.

‘Nonsense, I appreciate your coming. Sit, sit. Every minute counts. I’ve hardly slept since the World Government Conference. I’m still having trouble accepting this. What more can you tell me?’

Nick waited for the minister to sit and began to update the story, foregoing the technical terms just as he had done in America. When Nick had finished the Prime Minister stared out the window.  A grandfather clock ticked loudly in the background while they waited for his response. Finally, he stood from his chair. ‘I have to make a phone call. Would you both wait here?’

Nick looked at the phone on the desk and wondered why the minister found it necessary to make a private call. ‘A bit rude isn’t he?’ Nick said as the minister silently closed the door behind him.

Graham’s knee bobbed up and down while Nick paced back and forth, stopping now and then to examine the spine of a book with interest. Graham checked his watch several times as the minutes ticked by. ‘What do you s’pose he’s up to? Graham said at last.

‘Probably calling the police to have us locked up, at least until the press conference.’ Nick returned to his seat.

‘Shit, I hope not. That’d stuff up everything.’

A slender middle-aged woman entered the room quietly and asked them politely if they would like some coffee.

‘Where’s the Prime Minister gone?’ Nick asked.

She ignored the question and left to get their drinks. Nick felt his clothes sticking to him and he squirmed in his seat, loosening the tie Graham insisted he wore to the meeting. He sat back and folded his arms. ‘Well, if he doesn’t come back soon we’re leaving!’ He said petulantly.

The woman returned and placed a tray containing coffee, sugar, milk and some kind of cookies before them and announced the Prime Minister would be returning momentarily, a phrase they were sure she uttered on many occasions. Moments later they heard voices and the minister returned with two other men whom he introduced as the Minister for Defence, and his personal Press Secretary.

Nick paled.  ‘Press Secretary?’

‘It’s okay.’ The minister said holding up his hand, sensing Nick’s concern. ‘He’s not the press. He needs to know what’s going on so he can judge just how much we feed the press and when, he’s here to observe.

I hope you don’t mind waiting a bit longer. I’ve called two other members of my cabinet over.  James Hansen, the minister for Foreign Affairs and the minister for Emergency Services, Dave Parker. We have a lot to discuss but we should wait until they get here. They won’t be long.’

He ordered more coffee, which arrived just as the two ministers bustled into the room and introduced themselves. Nick prepared for a repeat of the scene in the US President’s office, predicting the same reactions, with probably the same results.

He explained what he knew of the United States operation Star Flight, grateful this time that Graham was there for support, when he helped make Nick’s task a little easier by outlining the plan he’d put into action in Hawaii. The press secretary made no comment and Nick realised he would have made it his business to have all the facts before this meeting.

The minister for defence examined his fingernails as he spoke calmly. ‘I’ve spoken in length with General Cooper in the US, he mentioned your name Nick, said he was impressed with your knowledge. Star Flight’s a good plan. We’re doing the same here. All military personnel are on alert.’

Nick wriggled in his chair. ‘You mean you have a Mt Rockwell here too?’

‘Hardly. Canberra’s on high ground a long way from the sea, but all our capital cities are on sea level. We’ll need to set up survival centres around them all.’

‘How d’you go about such a massive task?’ Graham asked.

‘We’ve had a plan in place for this type of disaster scenario for years. Our combined forces are ready and we’re pulling in our army reserves.’

‘What about equipment? We don’t have the resources the yanks have.’ The foreign Minister said.

‘No, but we’re a pretty resourceful lot. We’ll just have to do our best.’  Dave Parker replied.

The Prime Minister smiled. ‘Good man Parker, that’s just why cabinet made you Minister for Emergency Services. You’re the man for this tremendous challenge.’ He said.

Parker blushed, and before he could thank the Prime Minister, the Foreign Minister interjected excitedly. ‘How did the Americans react to this? Do they know you’ve left them to it?’

‘They asked me to stay, but I took off.’ Nick said. ‘They tried to stop me leaving Washington, they’re paranoid about anyone outside their inner circle finding out before it’s announced. I made the mistake of telling my fiance, who’s a senator, and they arrested her in case she told anyone. I doubt whether I would’ve got out of there without Graham’s help.  I’m willing to bet they still don’t even know I’ve left the country.’

‘I can understand that. Well-meaning people often don’t think of the consequences of their erratic actions.’ The Foreign Minister said. ‘I know the international community has accepted this without hesitation and so have we, but I’m still a little sceptical?’

Nick’s face turned dark. ‘If you think I’m stupid enough to risk everything I’ve worked for with a story like this, you’re bloody mad!’

The Prime Minister raised his hand. ‘Gentlemen! Let’s not argue about this.’ He said. He narrowed his eyes. ‘We’re all on edge. Hell, I’m finding it hard to get my head around this too. There’s so much to process, so much to do.

The joint forces are in emergency meeting as we speak putting evacuation plans into place. It’s going to be a massive job. Dave, how’s your team going?’

David Parker, who until now had remained mostly supportive during the discussion slouched, crumpled in his chair, his big body complaining of it’s fifty-five years, and he squirmed to find a better way to place his long awkward legs. Sharp blue eyes winked in his lightly tanned face, their corners crimped by many smile lines, and his thick yellow hair wrapped his head in a wheat-like haze. Two years ago he had resigned as Chief of Police after rising up through the ranks from a young ambitious constable, to enter politics. He had enjoyed his career, making many friends along the way, and most thought him to be the best chief the force had had for many years and agreed he would make a formidable Minister for Emergency Services.

‘We’re ready for most emergencies but we hadn’t expected one of this scale.’ He drummed his fingers on the tables edge as he spoke. ‘We’ve had to deal with cyclones and bush fires in the northern states and plenty of flooding inland, but we’ve never had a tsunami here. We don’t really know what to expect.’

The Prime Minister turned to Nick. ‘How will our large cities, like Sydney for instance be affected?’

‘Each city will be affected differently, depending on their exposure. I’m afraid Sydney will be in for major damage, despite their dykes that circle the harbour.’

‘Won’t the high cliffs of the Gap at the entrance to the harbour protect the city? They must be over ninety metres high.’

‘No. That’ll make it worse. You see there’s such a thing known as tidal suck-out. When the wave approaches the Continental Shelf and starts to rise, it will suck all the water from the shore, draining the harbours and bays and increasing it’s height even further.

As it forces its way through the narrow harbour entrance at the Gap it will form into a bloody huge raging tower the entire width of the entrance, God knows how high. Any ships lying in the harbour will bottom-out and be crushed, and no amount of dykes will stop it. You see it won’t just wash in like a normal wave, it will dump from above crashing down onto everything, and as I said before there’ll be more than one wave.’

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. The Prime Minister had taken up Parker’s habit of drumming on the table edge. ‘Your knowledge of the sea and its idiosyncrasies is priceless Nick, are you willing to advise Dave?’ He asked.

‘I’ve spent plenty of time in Queensland, partly in Brisbane and partly on the Gold Coast where I have my land base. My brother and his wife live in the hinterland there, that’s why I came back, I intend to go home to help them. Helping Dave won’t interfere with that will it?’

‘No. We only need your advice now and then, you’ll be free to do whatever you want, but you must liaise with Dave. He’ll keep you in the loop, and he’ll be more effective, knowing what to expect. I know after your experience in America you’ll be careful. I don’t think you should discuss this with anyone
whom Dave hasn’t cleared, even
your brother and his wife. Is that understood?’

Nick wondered what the Minister would say if he knew Brian was a journalist. ‘Yeah you have my word. I don’t want to risk anybody’s life, least of all my family’s.’  He turned to Dave Parker. ‘How I can help you Dave?’

‘Let’s go back to my office and we’ll get the ball rolling. Graham, we can co-ordinate your activities through my office as well,
I’ll talk to the finance department and get you the money to buy the Vetos you need.
’

‘We’ve only got just over forty hours before the press get hold of this.’ The Prime Minister said as they all left his office.  

Trancars were waiting at the exit of The Lodge. ‘I hate these things,’ Nick said. ‘Are they in every city here too Dave?’

‘Yeah, I’m not keen on them either but with petrol running out we had no choice. Fuel supplies have been allocated to shipping, planes and essential services.’

‘Makes the family outings a bit boring,’ Nick said climbing in behind Dave and Graham.

Chapter Twenty

They left The Lodge and after a short journey arrived at the spectacular Parliament House. The imaginative building had opened in 1988, after taking eight years and $1.1 billion to build, and over the ensuing years it had been renovated and updated to incorporate the latest technological devices and systems. Set into the top of a hill, its grassed-covered roof blended with the contours of the surrounding terrain. Most of the complex was subterranean with the main entrance flanked by two high granite-faced walls that curved out from the centre, resembling two rounded boomerangs placed end-to-end. Dave walked them through the impressive white marble great verandah entrance, past Nelson Tjakamarra’s mosaic titled Meeting Place, into the foyer where grey-green marble columns stood symbolising a forest. Huge tapestries lined the long spans of walls, broken by marquetry panels displaying Australian flowers. Dave’s office was south of the Members Hall, along with other minister’s quarters, and in stark contrast to the Lodge and the US Presidents office, it offered the latest in decor with a colour scheme of cool restful colours.