Almost Perfect

Everybody knew it was a terrible idea. Even the President looked unsure, when he announced the go-ahead for the new magma-fueled power station. And with his grades in school, chances are he had no idea what he was talking about anyway. Finally, people of the world came together, Christians and Muslims, Whites and Blacks, Women and Men, united in the absolute agreement that this was a no good, very bad thing.

The President pointed out that they had all said the same thing about Y2K and again when the first anti-matter was produced. And the people pointed out that despite all their concerns the scientists had just gone ahead and done it anyway, so what was even the point of fighting?

So, it was built – the very first magma powered energy farm. Such a simple concept – tunnels driven deep into Old Faithful, stopping within mere feet of the roiling, seething, boiling lake of magma. The heat here was so intense it melted through hundreds of 60ft drill bits, but eventually they had 6 tunnels, each with a u-shaped bend at its deepest point. Water was poured down one side, and steam was harvested on its return. Simple, and it would pay for itself in no time. So sayeth the scientists. Anywhere, they said, there’s no such thing as mistakes, only unexpected outcomes.

Maybe, just maybe, it would have worked. For a while there really was a great outpouring of clean energy at relatively little cost. Bills dropped, everyone was happy. As months went by without the world collapsing, even the people living nearest Yellowstone Park began to relax. Property prices actually started going up – Thermal Life Inc. built a holiday town of brightly colored log cabins around a heated waterpark, where hot springs and warm waterfalls cascaded down on the delighted customers. They even had a themed ride where the water glowed orange from below, and children laughed as they rode in logs along the river of fast flowing ‘lava’. People stopped going to the coast for vacations, heading inland where the artificial beaches could promise clean, safe water – after all, hadn’t it all just been boiled by Mother Nature herself?

Of course, some still warned that Old Faithful was due to blow anytime, overdue in fact. They pointed to Pompeii and St Helens, shaking their heads as they stocked their basements with cans of peaches and tuna. But things were going so well. Soon New Mexico, California and Montana were all taking advantage of their own super volcanoes. Mammoth Mountain ski resort meant people could combine winter sports and balmy indoor oases. What a time to be alive!

Eventually other countries stopped just rolling their eyes and saying “honestly, those Americans, what will they think of next?” and started following suit. Soon Indonesia and New Zealand had magma farms, with Iceland and Italy not far behind. Gradually all the old coal plants were closed down, and the skies were blue again over the cities.

But there’s always one, isn’t there? One person, or group of people perhaps, who have to spoil it for the rest of us. In this case a shadowy cult, the Vulcanites, who believed the world would end in fire and flames on April 17th, 2069. About 6pm EST. Not many people had heard of them, and even fewer took their warnings seriously. Nobody could have believed a simple piece of hacked code could bring about the end of days.

The hacker in question was an underwhelming 23-year-old named Euan Bremner. He resided in the pleasant village of Llanfair Pwllgwyngyll, on the Isle of Anglesey. His parents had no idea what he was planning, and wouldn’t have thought it possible even if they had. To them the internet lived in a black box in the basement along with the insane store of canned goods their slightly odd son insisted on hoarding. It is fair to assume if they had an inkling of what he was up to they would have been very, very disappointed in him.

Underneath his mild-mannered, nerdy persona, Euan hid a deep and dark secret. He loved burning things. Matches, lighters, an occasional old garden shed… fires were his thing. It was so easy for the Vulcanites to befriend him during a World at War online game. A worldwide network of fire-loving freaks like himself! He finally had a purpose. He willingly helped them gain access to the magma farm control centers, which were all computerized.

It was such a small change to make that nobody realized it was happening at first. The water, usually flowing at a carefully measured rate stopped for just ten minutes. Not even long enough for the engineers to figure out why. Then, as suddenly as it stopped, the water flow resumed, but at full capacity. It roared into all 6 of the thermal shafts under Old Faithful, and each of the other volcanoes worldwide. As the water hit the thin rock surface it blasted through to the magma pocket below. And the whole world exploded.

Ok, it wasn’t as simple as that. The initial blasts took out most of the USA, lava gushing down the mountain sides and engulfing the tourists in their luxury resorts. Pumice and glass shards rained down for thousands of miles, covering many States in 3ft of ash and debris. Those lucky enough to survive a fiery death were doomed all the same. Around the world the sky filled with thousands of tons of ash particles. Darkness fell across the planet, and temperatures plummeted. Nowhere was left untouched – and with the main source of power destroyed, there was no way to heat homes. Survivors perished of cold if they were lucky, or famine and starvation if they were not.

Euan and his parents lasted longer than most. Just long enough to realize that a diet of tinned peaches and tuna gets old really fast, and no internet means no friends. On a bitterly cold day in August 2070, Euan Bremner, the greatest mass murderer of all time, took the cowards way out of his miserable existence. His parents didn’t honor his wish to be cremated – there was nothing left to burn.

And that was that. RIP Earth, 2070AD.

***

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!” Gorbanj screeched, slamming his feelers down in anger. “Why? Why does this happen time after time after time? What am I doing wrong?”

Jargfel wrapped his proboscis around his colleague comfortingly. “You did your best, I really thought you had it there towards the end.”

“They were finally winning the climate change issues! They were mostly peaceful, they survived the atomic age… there weren’t any giant kraken this time! We didn’t even throw alien encounters at them yet… I’m starting to think I should scrap this whole project.”

Jargfel blarted in alarm. “No! You can’t just give up, Gorbanj – it’s your life’s work! If it succeeds it’ll take first place in the World builders Challenge for sure! This is only the 498th time they’ve reached Armageddon – maybe 499’s the charm.”

“Hrumph.” Gorbanj rested wearily on his flubbens. He was tired, so tired of watching these tiny humans take the beautiful Earth he gave them and run it into the ground. This time they were so dramatic in their explosion that they singed his wranglers! How would this time be any different?

“Maybe… more dinosaurs?” Jargfel suggested, handing him the heart shaped locket containing a shiny new planet.

“Maybe no people,” Gorbanj replied, but he brightened when he saw the pretty blue and white orb Jargfel was holding. “It really is a beauty, isn’t it? I mean, it has everything… I guess I’ll give it another go. After all, this one lasted longer than that time with Atlantis…”

He tossed the blackened, still smoking remains of Earth 498 in the black hole behind him. “I think I’ll leave off Wales this time around…”