Fog and Mist

Early draft Chapter One

The gentle, softly glowing, mist came with no seeming threat at all, far from it. It came flowing out of a big old complex of concrete buildings that had been officially abandoned for years except for a skeleton staff to look after it. That is caretakers, security guards, a few gardeners, a small administration staff and even some techies. That large island was mostly thinly populated semiwilderness being on the very edge of the vast Friendlies Super Archipelago. So as the glowing mist engulfed much of the complex, internally, at first no communications came from those inside.

That changed when radio messages where sent out warning none to approach the complex that was being sealed up as much as was possible to contain the glowmist but it was too little, too late, and some of it drifted across open, lawn covered areas between the buildings and the high, electric, security fences.

One man observed animals began to flee or to dig downwards or to do anything they could to escape which was obviously far from a good sign. He was already adapting escape plans already made but unfortunately when the computers had locked down much of the complex, many escape routes were cut off.

Karl Trent, who worked in the complex knew it was far more than it officially seemed to be, knew that beneath the large inactive facade was a very active research development complex with some other facilities such as workshops and small factories. More importantly, more strangely, he knew of the ancient alien artefact structures down beneath the complex in a series of quasinatural caverns. Karl Trent was an angry man who was disgusted at the arrogance of self important scientists willingly to risk the fate of the NewEarth as they played with forces they had no real understanding of.

He stood at the top of a complex guard-tower and was glad that the glowmist was heavier than air, that it could not seem to reach him. The light brown man, the most common skin colour of NewEarth humans, spoke to a nervous administrator close to him. "Hopefully we should be right up here but, just in case, the hatch is open with that slide-chute."

The administrator, a manager, was fairly old but youthful thanks to the extended lifespans of enhanced NewEarth humans. Yet, at 123 years of age, she was a fair deal younger than the man she was with. He was 237 years old and since death came at about 300 years of age, was coming to the middle of his third century. She was attractive partly thanks to new treatments available in the elite Citystates.Her skin was darker brown, a less common colouring, but racism was not an issue on-in the NewEarth. Unlike his security fatigues, and body-armour, she wore a white jumpsuit with the badges of her function and rank.

Samantha was a little fearful, a little in awe, of this man but was determined not to be intimidated. "I can see the good sense in sending out the warnings but what official excuse will we give for them? The Q-Elders will not want undue government attention paid to this place, especially since President Elena Sholexa came to power in the White Castle. They feel she is antagonistic to..."

The man cut her off but not too curtly. "I know what those fools know. I have met them personally, though they were masked in a most melodramatic fashion. Stupid cultists is what they really are who worship science far more than they understand it, especially its limitations. I suggest we leave as it appears that the glowmist has begun to climb the walls, of the guard-tower, in a most unusual fashion."

The woman was not slow in going down the slide-chute and the man followed quickly, the hatch closing and sealing tight behind them. Seconds later glowmist was coming up over the walls and was filling up the top, semi-enclosed, area of the guard-tower..

They arrived in a big concrete chamber where people were in barely organised chaos mode. Trent was soon ordering people into some kind of efficiency and, in an attempt not to be outdone, his companion was soon doing the same. Soon coffee and foodbars were being passed around with food, and drink, salvaged from the more public cafeteria. The chamber was for emergencies and Trent had made sure nothing had been stolen from the emergency equipment, supplies and utilities. Guards clutched onto their weapons though none were sure just what good autorifles and autoshotguns would do against a strange glowing mist.

Techies reported that radio communications were becoming more difficult but they had managed to send through to Q-Command a request for assistance. Trent found himself feeling uneasy about that. The Q-Elders were a brutal, ruthlessly ambitious, lot of nutcases as far as he was concerned. He worked for them only because they were blackmailing him and his contract was very generous in the way of rewards. He even had his own mistress provided to meet certain needs.


GGP
Writer of Science Fiction/Fantasy, Fantasy and Poetry!