We Float Upon a Painted Sea

Professor Burke sat on a plastic chair. He had been staring at his shoes for at least an hour. His hush puppies were by far the most interesting feature in his line of sight. The room was dimly lit and undecorated. After leaving the Splurge Bucket, he had been taken to an abandoned biomass power station on Leith Docks. His introduction to the Elves was not as cordial as he was expecting. He had been escorted off the street, put into the back of a vehicle and strip searched. His body was scanned from head to foot for hidden transmitters and listening devices. Such an undignified experience, he thought, and they hadn’t even offered me a cup of tea.

He heard the metallic sound of a key in a lock. A bright light illuminated the figure of a woman standing in the doorway. He heard a female voice with a hint of a North American accent.

“I would like to apologise for the treatment we have subjected you to, but we had to be sure you weren’t spying for the Government. I hope you understand Professor Burke, but there is much at stake. I am Itaridlë, the leader of the ELF.” She handed him his spectacles. The Professor clipped the legs of his glasses around his ears, pushed the bridge up the length of his nose and said,

“Where am I?” Itaridlë approached him holding a paper cup of hot tea and said,

“This is our headquarters.” She passed him back his leather satchel.

She had an athletic build, shoulder length brown hair, oval eyes and a perfectly symmetrical face. For an instant, he imagined her appearance would befit his daughter. She was dressed in combat trousers, boots and a black tight fitting vest which revealed both her muscular shoulders and salient breasts. She continued, “I think we should eat and then you can tell me all about this Silent Wave. You might be interested to know the project has been delayed.”

“Thank God. We still have time,” said the Professor before dropping his head.

He was led off to a canteen and offered a choice of foiled bags. He examined the labels. He chose one and looked questionably at Itaridlë. She took it off him, twisted the lid, and laid it on a deep tray. The silver container rumbled as if coming to life, then after a few more seconds, steam came from hundreds of perforated holes. They walked to a set of tables and chairs and sat down. The Professor opened the bag and indulged himself on the contents. It had been a while since he had eaten a warm meal. After another cup of hot tea, Itaridlë took him back to the room. A camera was set up in front of the plastic chair. Professor Burke was asked to sit and begin his tale.

“You don’t mind if Inwë records you?” said Itaridlë. The Professor was in better spirits. He said,

“No, not at all. It will be a relief to get this off my chest.”

“When you are ready Professor. First of all state your name and who you worked for.”

“My name is Earl Burke, Professor Emeritus and ex-chief scientist at the National Oceanography Centre. During the last six years I have been employed by the MoDs to lead a project called Silent Wave. The project was originally designed to counteract tidal surges and tsunamis caused by ice shelf slips and marine hydraulic fracturing activities. After several years of research a Government agency, which I later found out to be connected with the MoDs, took over jurisdiction of Silent Wave. I would like to state, for the record, at that stage I still had no reason to believe they were planning to use my research as a weapon of mass destruction.”

Professor Burke withdrew a small box from his briefcase. He held his finger against a pad until he heard a beeping noise. A pressure valve on the box hissed before opening. He withdrew a microchip and handed it to Itaridlë. He cleared his throat and continued, “I received a recording of a wire tap from an old friend of mine who must remain nameless. The recording is a conversation between John G Cluny and Raymond McIntyre, Permanent Secretary of the Ministry of Defence and Surveillance.” Itaridlë nodded to the corner of the room. Lúthien came forward and took the microchip from the Professor and slotted it into the side of his notepad. The file opened and two men’s voices became audible.

McIntyre: “I’ll get straight to the point Cluny. The Minister wants an update on Silent Wave.”

John G Cluny: “Would it be the Minister or would it be you who needs an update.”

McIntyre: “I am the eyes and ears of the Minister, unless you want him to call you personally.”

John G Cluny: “Don’t get your pantaloons in a twist.”

McIntyre: “I don’t wear pantaloons Cluny, you must have me mixed up with one of your old Gordonstoun school chums. The Minister is worried this operation of yours is over budget, getting complicated and you may also have a leak.”

John G Cluny: “I would dispute that McIntyre. I hand picked the team myself. I’ve already made it clear, most activities will be conducted underwater, therefore foreign satellites will be limited to observing surface activity only. We will put this down to hydrocarbon exploration activities. The leader of the project team, Professor Burke, has identified a test site west of St Kilda which geologically ticks all the right boxes. There’s a history of shale gas drilling operations in the general area so we have good cover. Let’s say, the islands are not unfamiliar with seismic activity.

McIntyre: “We need to know about your evacuation strategy for St Kilda.”

John G Cluny: “I thought the islands were evacuated in the 1930’s?”

McIntyre: “It was but shale extraction brought people back to the island. It’s been repopulated.”

John G Cluny: “I forgot, aren’t you from that neck of the woods.”

McIntyre: “Not even close Cluny but I get the impression you’re fucking with me so lets be clear, there are ancillary workers, engineers involved in artificial biome construction, climate control project scientists and a small number of civilians. They all need to be evacuated.”

John G Cluny: “I just remembered what association you have with the Outer Hebrides. Don’t you have a brother who works for the Coast Guard stationed in St Kilda? I’m sure he will be fine. Is that what’s bothering you McIntyre? Are you concerned for your sibling?”

McIntyre: It’s not an issue for me Cluny and certainly not for you. I just smooth things out for the Minister and make sure people like you don’t screw things up and get egg on his face.”

John G Cluny: “I’m just messing with you McIntyre. We plan two test waves, baby waves if you like, which will hit the uninhabited west coast of the island. Depending on the validation results of our model we plan to unleash the mother wave soon after. The island will be evacuated, so no need to worry about little brother. However, there’s always a bit of collateral damage.”

McIntyre: “No collateral Cluny. The Minister wants it clean, do you understand?”

John G Cluny: “Without collateral, how can we assess the wave’s effectiveness?”

McIntyre: “That’s your problem. Find a way. I’ll brief the Minister but I must say Cluny, he is a wee bit concerned with the work you’re doing over there.”

John G Cluny: (laughter)

McIntyre: “I’m glad this amuses you. By the way, does Professor Burke suspect anything? You can’t afford any slip ups.”

John G Cluny: “Not a thing. You know scientists, always with their heads in a microscope, analysing the small things when the bigger picture is unravelling behind them (snorting).”

McIntyre: “You will wait for the orders to be released. The new attack submarine is ready to take up its position at the test site, tactical airlift squadrons are on standby and the first shot will take place at 19:00hrs on the 3rd of September, the second shot the following day at 06:00. Weather permitting.” The recording ended. Inwë stepped forward and whispered in Itaridlë’s ear,

“There’s no way the conversation is a wire tap. I’m pretty sure it’s an inside job.” Itaridlë gazed at the floor then raised her head to look at Inwë.

“Can you analyse the original recording and let me know.” She handed Inwë the microchip and he left the room. Itaridlë paced about the room, her boots scraping against the concrete floor and then she stopped and said to Professor Burke.

“You need to find out from your mole, the identity of the person who handed him the recording. That’s our way in.”

“He wouldn’t say who gave him the recording and I couldn’t contact him now. I would be fearful of exposing him. I would imagine they will have him under surveillance, as they did with me, and as soon as I get in touch, he will be arrested.”

“Yes, that would be unfortunate, but we all have sacrifices to make Professor. His name would be beneficial to our objectives.”

“I’m sorry Itaridlë. All I have to give you is the recording at this point in time. I must insist on my friend’s anonymity.” Lúthien smiled and then said,

“We do have scanners that could extract the information with or without your permission, Professor Burke.” Itaridlë grabbed Lúthien’s arm and said,

“That won’t be necessary. I think the Professor has been more than helpful to our cause.” Itaridlë stood with her hands on her hips and examined the box in her hands. She turned to the Professor with an intense stare and said,

“This is a pretty low standard of technology you are using here Professor. I take it you have backed up all this data?” The Professor shifted in his plastic chair and said,

“The lower the standard of technology, the more secure the data in my opinion. For instance, I’ve even taken to writing with an old fashioned ink pen rather than a digital one, but yes the information is backed up.” The door opened and Inwë returned.

“As I thought, it is definitely an inside job. It’s not a wire tap; the sound wave frequencies are different. I made a copy as you requested.” Itaridlë took the microchip from Inwë, placed it back in the box and passed it back to Professor Burke. She then turned to the others and said,

“There you have it my friends, we now have evidence implicating the MoDs at the highest level. There is no time to lose. Inwë, get your copy of the audio file ready for publishing onto our website. I will tell you when the time is right. Lúthien, get the team together. I need them kitted up and prepped by 1800 hours. We’re shipping out.” Professor Burke stood up and said,

“So you don’t intend to publish the file until after the event? I can’t believe you will let this happen. We need to get to the control site and stop this madness. There isn’t much time.”

“Stop it? I don’t think so. But we will be there and use what we record for evidence purposes.”

“There are people on the island. Many lives are at stake. I know for a fact the model Cluny referred to is not fit for purpose. I need to find a way to St Kilda and warn the islanders.”

“You do what you have to Professor. We will even help you but as the shot was delayed and we have no other way of knowing when it will take place, unless you contact your mole and find out when the shot was rescheduled for? If not, our best tactic is to be there to witness it.” With a solemn expression the Professor shook his head. Itaridlë said,

“If that is your final answer, we can take you as far as Ullapool and there we will part company.”

The Professor was escorted to Itaridlë’s makeshift office. Passing the munitions room, he said,

“I wasn’t aware your organisation was equipped with such sophisticated military hardware. I knew your methods differ greatly from the Green Movement, but violence will solve little and merely invites a backlash.” Itaridlë smiled at the Professor and replied,

“How much change do you think is brought about by chaining yourself to an airport runway or scaling an oilrig? We originally tried seizing the moral high ground by protesting and showed our displeasure through acts of civil disobedience, but fun as they were, those tactics tended not to work. Unfortunately, greedy corporations, corrupt politicians and the compliant media are not concerned with civil acts of disobedience. The measures we now employ are in direct response to the rape of our planet, which we have taken a vow to protect at all costs. Nothing against our friends in the GM but we believe in a more immediate response before it is too late. They have their methods and we have ours.” The Professor looked bemused. He shuffled uncomfortably and then said,

“Sadly, I find your opinions slightly depressing and a bit misanthropic. I think we can bring about change, but not through armed struggle. You will merely alienate your group and be labelled a terrorist.” Itaridlë smiled again. She said,

“I think it’s a little late for that Professor. Some may feel comfortable being led like lambs to the slaughter, but a few of us are willing to fight back and punish those who have brought us to this point in history. I care little for the label they pin on us.”

“Who exactly will you punish? Scientists like me?”

“No Professor, I think you are a victim in this tale, misguided in my opinion perhaps, but not one of the transgressors of which there are many – oil companies, bankers, the church, certain journalists and politicians. The list goes on. The time for political pressure is over.”

“What about using the law to stop these acts of destruction?”

“I could ask the same question of you Professor Burke. Why did you seek our help and not the GM? We work outside the law. The law has always been designed to protect the property and businesses of a select few who have gained their hegemony over the rest of mankind by exploiting the weak as cheap labour, plundering the planets natural resources, polluting our environment and avoiding their tax responsibilities. In the beginning, back in California, some of our members engaged in non violent protests and some resorted to the use of pipe bombs to fight against a company manufacturing a defoliant called Agent Orange and a pesticide called Agent Blue, containing carcinogenetic dioxins and toxic levels of arsenic. The U.S. Government were spraying both chemicals on the Vietnamese countryside, attempting to cause famine and desolation, all this in contravention to International Law. Our founding fathers damaged a building, killing or injuring no one, but they were all sentenced to long prison sentences regardless of their methods. Whereas, the U.S. Government claimed sovereign immunity for its actions which caused millions of birth defects and slow lingering deaths, not only to the Vietnamese people but its own military staff. That was nearly a century ago, but nothing has changed since then. This is how the law machine works Professor Burke.”

Itaridlë guided the Professor by a gymnasium and then into an office. It was mostly a bare place but one wall was adorned with maps and schematic drawings. On the desk there lay an old fashioned personal computer with a visual display unit perched on top. The Professor’s bemusement didn’t go unnoticed by Itaridlë.

“We don’t use modern computers like shackles, projection tech or e-pens. They use technology which can be detected and interpreted by the Prophylaxis Trident spy satellite. I take it you know what I am talking about?” The Professor nodded in agreement.

“I like old fashioned,” replied the Professor. Itaridlë looked the Professor up and down then said,

“So I can see. This computer may be slow and old fashioned but paradoxically, with all the billions of dollars they have spent on cybernetics technology, the MoDs find it hard to detect activity on antiquated communication systems such as this.”

“The scientific community invented the internet and we have retained methods of contact. It’s a tried and tested method of communication without the security services knowing? If I can contact my mole, he may be able to provide some updates, but if he knows I’ve come to you, he’s likely to get cold feet. More importantly, I think I can recreate a virus programme I previously developed as an insurance, so I could disable the operation if need be. It would require a manual uploaded from the control site.” Itaridlë said,

“I’d advise you to encrypt all communications, just to buy yourself a little more time, and if we can assist you in delivering the virus, let me know. Our plans are already in motion and this place will be torched as soon as we leave. That time is approaching Professor, so I advise you to work fast.” Itaridlë left the Professor working until the Elf contingent were ready. When she returned, he was applying a silicon seal to a micro chip. Itaridlë said,

“It’s time.” Professor Burke looked up and offered a rare smile. He said,

“I’ve left an encrypted message for my friend. I plan to deliver the virus personally.”