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Tuesday, July 21, 2009

It's Not Nice to Fool Mother Nature


It was the year 2120, and mankind had finally mastered his surroundings. Disease was virtually unheard of, food production had been refined so that there was no inhabited place on earth where food was not available, and now, even the weather had been tamed. Due to a new and ingenious invention by Dr. Scott Robertson, all weather patterns and phenomena were now controlled by the Weather Institute. No longer were there uncomfortable temperatures, hot or cold, and all rainfall was carefully planned out so that areas designated as farmland received just the right amount. As far as the common man was concerned, the earth was now a virtual paradise. Or at least it was yesterday.

"Professor Reardon," called out the young intern. "There seems to be another storm developing in the middle of the Atlantic."

"What?" called out the white haired professor. "That's the third one to stir up in the last 36 hours. That's not supposed to be possible. I wonder if the WeatherNet is malfunctioning."

The WeatherNet, as it was called, was the series of satellites orbiting the planet that both monitored the earth's weather as well as controlled it through directed plasma discharges and energy collectors. It was the WeatherNet that made it possible for mankind to finally exert complete control over his environment.

Scratching his head in thought, Professor Reardon looked at the various readouts on the monitors before him. According to what he saw, there was, indeed, a storm brewing in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, a storm that should not be able to form considering the WeatherNet was draining away all excess atmospheric and oceanic energy. The fact that a storm cell was developing anyway suggested there was something wrong with the system.

Sighing to himself at the thought of endless hours of diagnostics that were surely in his future, Professor Readon looked at the intern, Santos was his name, and said, "Mr. Santos, target the center of that cell with the 'Net if you please, and drain it of all of its energy. No storm has been scheduled for today."

With a few taps on his keyboard and a thousand computer calculations made in .2 seconds, the WeatherNet locked on to the center of the storm cell and positioned two satellites accordingly. With a flash of plasma discharge, a bolt of blue energy shot from the satellites and struck the center of the storm. At first, the monitors at the Weather Institute showed that the storm was shrinking, it's energy drained by the plasma streams. But as Professor Reardon watched, the storm center began to grow with unnatural speed, the outside edges growing at a rate of a mile a minute. Professor Reardon had never seen a storm react that way before.

Watching the status of the energy collectors aboard each satellite fill to capacity, the intern, Mr. Santos, shut down the plasma stream before they exploded. Looking at Professor Reardon for instruction, Mr. Santos saw that the old man had gone as white as his hair.
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"Do you see, Dr Mandragora," snapped the tall lady standing before the large font of shimmering water. "They think they have the right to tell me where and when to send my showers, my winds, my waves of warm air. I have been tending this planet for millions of years, and suddenly they think they can do the job better than I!"


The man known as Dr Mandragora stood up slowly from his seat, his young apprentice scurrying over to help steady his master. Dressed in an old fashioned black frock coat, a silver waistcoat, and black trousers, the aging Mandragora walked to where the goddess was standing, leaning heavily upon his black oak walking stick.

"I know you are distressed, dear Lady Gaia, but their attempt at weather control is not meant to be slight to you. In all fairness, they aren't aware that you exist and are seeking to better their planet."

"Better it for themselves, you mean, don't you, Doctor?" accused Gaia, Goddess of the Earth. "Mankind has used and abused the planet that was placed in their care, they have stripped it of its resources, destroyed any other life that was in their way and all in the name of progress." Her lip curling in a sneer, the Earth Goddess Gaia continued, "And it wasn't just animals and plants they destroyed, Doctor, and you know that. They killed their own kind as readily as they destroyed my defenseless creatures, all in the name of progress. Yes, all sacrificed on the alter of 'science' and for 'the betterment of all'."

Dr. Mandragora watched as Gaia looked back into the font of water and saw what had captured her attention. She was watching a storm cell swirling in the ocean, the Atlantic, unless he was mistaken. "Now they seek mastery of the very elements? Mankind has gone too far." And so saying, Gaia placed her finger in the water, touching the center of the storm and swirling it in a circle, the arms of the storm circling faster and faster in response to her movements.

Seeing the hard look Gaia had on her face, Dr Mandragora asked, "What are you planning then, dear lady?"

"Planning? Isn't it obvious Doctor? I am going to brush them off the face of the earth."
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"Professor Reardon!" shouted Intern Santos, "A third satellite has just exploded! The storm is sending large pulses of energy back through the plasma stream. It's overloading the collectors! We are going to lose the entire 'Net if we don't shut down!"

The old scientist, Professor Reardon, ignored the frantic shouts from the staff in the WeatherNet control room. His eyes were glued to the instruments before him. The storm cell had grown to a monstrous 300 mile radius. He had never seen such a powerful storm in his life. The hovercopters sent in to the edges of the storm to gauge the wind had been reporting speeds at 350 miles per hour, an unheard of speed for wind to travel naturally. If he couldn't get the storm broken up, the computer was estimating landfall on the eastern coast of the United States in just over two hours.

"Santos!" Reardon shouted out, "focus all of the remaining satellites on the leading edge of the storm. We have to slow that thing down!"

"Yes, sir," answered Mr. Santos, fingers flying across his keyboard. Once he had finished and no one was looking at him anymore, Jason Santos opened up a small window on his computer, quickly sending a message to his wife's mobile phone. The message simply read, "Get to shelter now!"
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Walking in circles around the magical font, Dr Mandragora, hands clasped behind his back, was trying to distract the agitated and ancient goddess. "Now, Lady Gaia, I will grant you that mankind has not been the most conscientious of guardians. They have made some rather large blunders in the past, but they are far from being the villains that you are making them out to be."

Making a rude noise, Gaia waved her hands to shush her visitor. "Do be quiet, Dr Mandragora. As if I would listen to you on the subject of mankind. You have spent millennia watching them, nudging them, advising them, and I believe you have lost your objectivity." When it appeared that Dr Mandragora was going to interrupt, Gaia raised her hand to stop him. "Oh yes, Doctor. You have lost the ability to judge their actions fairly. You were sent here ages ago to help them develop into righteous beings and look at what they have done. Look!"

Gesturing towards the font, the clear water within clouded over for a moment before revealing a strip of land that was scarred and dead, three concrete towers looming over everything like dark sentinels. "Look, Doctor, at what your precious humanity has wrought. Nuclear power plants, poisoning everything around them, because man needed more power. More power, more power, they always needed more! More energy to run their factories so that they could dump more poison into the air. More power to run their weapons systems so that they could more efficiently kill each other and everything else around them. More power stripped from the earth, and to what purpose."

Dr. Mandragora stared into the font, taking in the scene of desolation before him. He recognized that power plant. It was famous for being run poorly and for poisoning the land for decades. He didn't know what to say.

"Look, Doctor, at what their drive for more power has accomplished. Radioactive land, warped animal life, poisoned water. I refuse to allow them to continue."
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The Weather Institute had been built below ground to conserve more space topside for homes and parks, not to provide it with protection. Ironically, underground as it was, the Weather Institute was immune to the weather which was, at that moment, scouring the ground above.

Professor Reardon had just gotten off of the phone with the Director of the World Government and had given him an assessment of the weather situation. Every satellite connected to the WeatherNet was destroyed. No matter how much energy they had absorbed from the storm front, the clouds, wind, rain, and lightning continued to advance. The storm had hit America three hours ago and already thousands of people were dead. This storm was not like any other ever in the history of mankind. This storm lashed and assaulted everything before it, winds were knocking over buildings, lightning was shattering concrete and stone with ease, and the pouring rain was then washing away all signs of what had been there before. Once the storm had been through an area, all traces of man were gone.

Professor Reardon watched his monitors and saw that the leading edge of the storm was about to pass over the Weather Institute. Even though he was below ground, he could feel tremors in the earth. He had no illusions that they would be spared.
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Dr Mandragora stood on a tall outcropping of rock, watching the storm move away from the city. There was virtually nothing left to mark the passing of man. A metal girder here, a slab of shattered concrete there. He placed his arm around the shoulders of his apprentice, who looked around them in horror.


"Master," the boy whispered,"is everybody gone?"

"Yes, my dear lad," the Doctor said sadly. "Gaia chose to leave nothing behind. She wanted to wipe the slate competely clean so that the Creator could start over again."

"Will he?"

The Doctor didn't answer. He didn't know the mind of the Creator. What mortal did?

"Are we the last humans on earth, Master?"

Nodding in agreement, Dr Mandragora said," Well, you are, dear lad. I am not human."

In a rumble of thunder, Dr Mandragora and his young apprentice heard the voice of the Goddess Gaia once again. "It is done, Doctor. With the exception of you and your boy, man is no more." Pausing for a moment, Gaia then whispered, "And I am sure you already realize that I don't dare make exceptions."

Mandragora's eyes squinted a fraction, knowing what the goddess intended.

"I'm sure if anyone understands, Doctor, it is you. Farewell old friend."

With a bright flash and a loud crack, an enormous bolt of lightning struck where Dr Mandragora and his apprentice were standing. The lightning stayed attached to the ground for several long minutes, the energy crackling and spitting as it burned everything around it. Once the bolt was completely discharged and the resulting smoke cleared, Gaia looked at the spot where the last of humanity had been standing, expecting to see the charred remains of Mandragora and his young charge. But instead all she found was the burnt and cracked walking stick the wizard had been carrying.

Of the boy and the aged sorcerer, there was no sign.

Gaia frowned in irritation for a moment. Then her countenance cleared and she broke into a smile. Laughing out loud, she waved her hand and bright sunlight flooded the earth. A new day was dawning, filled with bright promise and excitement. Such things were not meant to be enjoyed alone. Lifting her hand so that a bright red cardinal could land on her finger, Lady Gaia went in search of some company.