Heart of the World

Sitting on a stone overlooking the Barents Sea, James peers at the light bleeding through the bit of film Magdalen hid in the heart-shaped locket he gave her before she left for MIT.

Who knew one could encode an entire blockchain on such seemingly old tech? But it was the only way to keep it secure, ever since the Omidyar Protocol bridged the gap in quantum computing, allowing for the decryption of legacy chains. One last entry before we cross this god-forsaken sea. Oh, how I hate the ocean. Well, perhaps hating the ocean is a strong notion. More realistically, I hate being in or on any body of water that I can’t touch my feet to the bottom of, he thought, enjoying his last moments on land before he and the rest of Joint Task Force Mosaic would make for mankind’s last chance at redemption.

James closed the locket, slid it back into his shirt, and stared out at the ocean as he sank into retrospection of how he arrived at the north shore of Norway.

One more shot at the seed vault is all we need. St Andrew’s Cross may fly over the island, but at least NATO kept the Russians and their allies distracted fighting over the Northern European Enclosure Dam. Who knew that scientists, intellectual property, food, and water would become the currency of the 22nd century? Oh, right, most climatologists, oceanographers, and a plethora of others studying the ever-rapid changes in our environment. At least I have the last blockchain required to open the vault. Those poor souls of Operation Hibernia couldn’t have known the complex security the Norwegians put in place after the OPEC, the AU, China, and the Union of the South Pacific States created the Climate Defense League. It may have cost more blood and treasure than imagined but blocking anyone nation from controlling the world’s last seed vault was necessary. As necessary as Norway leaving NATO in turn for neutrality as the First Water War began. And there are times we all must make the necessary choice. Hell, here I am, the last mule and key to unlock the vault. Well, I better get writing before I lose the light, James told himself as he cracked open his weathered journal.

April 28, 2129: Gjesær, Norway

Dear Maggie,

I can’t believe it’s been 17 years since the Third Water War began. Here we are at the edge of the world. We have prepared all we can for our trip. A last-ditch effort to save what is left of human life on earth. It is a terrible thing our forebearers never listened to the wisdom of Alanis Obomsawin. It took a nine-foot rise in sea level, the desertification of most of the Amazon, Mediterranean, and almost everything between the Mississippi and the Rockies, for us to realize that giving control of the world’s freshwater over to the multinationals had sown the seeds of our destruction. And once the one-time use crops the GMO manufacturers peddled started failing at unsustainable rates, mankind learned the bitter taste of cold, hard cash. We had sold our soul to the devil in the nice suit.

Here I am, an old man, carrying the physical embodiment of my daughter’s intelligence. My beautiful Magdalen, your mother and I would have never pushed you so hard if we knew it would end this way. It wasn’t worth it. We could have gone to pop-pop’s farm in the Adirondacks. Sure, we would have had to contend with the United Free State Alliance, but it wouldn’t have been that bad. We would have been fairly comfortable in the last vestiges of the unified United States and the United Kingdom of Canada. I just wish we had left Oklahoma before the Pure Workers Party got their hands on your mother. I thought my ability to pass would protect us from all but the harshest scrutiny, and it did, for a while. That was always the advantage I had being a taller man that was assigned female at birth. But those old pictures they had cached from her Instagram account are what did it. At least she got her text out before they grabbed her.

As always, if this is my last entry, know that I love you, Magdalen. I hope to see you soon.

May 6, 2129: Somewhere on the Barents Sea

Good morning Magpie,

Seven days at sea are doing nothing for me. Yes, I had to do the flight medic water survival course, but I joined the Air Force for a reason. Warrant Rodriguez says we should be able to hit the beach in three to four days. He’s been giving me a crash course in naval gunfire, just in case we have to fight our way ashore. I’m sure the few Pan-Slavic Defense Forces defending the island will only be momentarily surprised once we slip the vail of our trawler and launch the Zodiacs. I’ll be glad to rid myself of smelling fish every day, and even more so of pretending to be a fisherman. I’m sorry this entry is so short, we only get a short time to ourselves in the captain’s quarters, as it is the only room that provides any protection from shinning our lights and broadcasting our presence to the world.

Hope to see you soon, Daddy.

May 12, 2129:

Maggie,

It’s been two days since we made landfall. We’ve managed only 9 KIA. Most of us are pretty battered. This has been the longest two miles of my life. I thought being a combat flight medic in the First Water War would have prepared me for this. I was wrong. So, very, very wrong. There’s a disconnect between picking up a casualty and watching someone’s skull explode in front of you as their flesh and blood rain down on you cowering behind the ridge. I thought I was brave making this mission, but bravery disappears in the face of the absolute necessity to survive.

I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but Director Hivju was a real bastard when he decided that the biometrics required a DNA sample at body temperature. I hate having to cower behind these brave souls, all to preserve the sample. I know they can keep my body alive if I do expire in the meantime, but I can tell some of them resent me for it. And I’m sure a few assume it’s cowardice because they hold to the belief that I am less of a man. Anyway, I have to go now, we are making the final assault in the morning.

Here’s to seeing you soon. I can’t wait to hold you again, Dad.

With the click of his pen, James closed his journal and slipped the strap through the buckle. Shoving the book into the cavity between his armor plate and back panel, he thought about how little he cared for protecting anything else. But he had to keep the last tether to Magdalen intact, at least until after reaching the vault. After that, all bets were off.

0339, May 13, 2129, Chief Warrant Officer Rodriguez walks the camp waking the remainder of JTF-Mosaic.

He never imagined when he joined the Navy that a Special Warfare Combatant-craft Crewman would be leading one of the most important amphibious assaults in history. Much less would he expect to be the one selected? But times were tough in the apocalyptic hellscape the world had turned into after privatizing 87 percent of the world's freshwater and creating the largest famine in history. With a little more than half a billion dead due to starvation, another 20 million lost directly to sea rise, the 1.8 billion lost to what is now known as The Great High Tide Massacres, the First and Second Water Wars, and the Scramble for the Antarctic, humanity was in a bad place.

Hopefully we can all put these seeds to good use and stop squabbling over everything. Hell, we’re not here that long anyway. We are as temporary as anything else in this world, he thought as he threw his empty MRE into his pack.

0656, JTF-Mosaic approaches the Svalbard Seed Vault.

The single window of the Svalbard Seed Vault James gleamed with disuse as the team approached the building. With the remaining defenders of the Svalbard Seed Vault cleared out, it was time for James to shine. Reaching into his shirt, he retrieved the locket, pulled the film from inside, and slid it into the slot per Magdalen’s instructions, and waited for the security system to read the blockchain. After a moment, a message flashed, “First Authentication Approved. Please Submit DNA Sample.” Reaching his hand into the box, James felt a slight prick and squeeze on his middle finger. Another moment of processing and the airlock hissed as the doors unlocked. A message began to play on over the PA system. “Welcome to the Svalbard Global Seed Vault. Please only take what you need. Have a good day.” First in English, then repeating in Mandarin, French, Spanish, Hindi, Arabic, and so on. The JTF began to walk into the facility as the message continued in every living language.

“Spread out, look for survivors, and watch for traps!!” Rodriguez shouted to his team as they entered the first chamber. “Let’s go look for your girl,” he said turning to James.

Rodriguez, James, and four other members of the team made their way to the facility’s control room. “Ish, drone the room,” Rodriguez ordering Corporal Marzuki of the Indonesian Marine Corps to send in a hummingbird drone to scout the room before the team entered.

“All clear boss,” Marzuki said catching the drone.

“God this is grim,” Rodriguez exclaimed entering the room of lifeless bodies of the remaining conservators. “James, go ahead and come in,” ushering James into the room. “I’m sorry, I’m so very sorry. I wish we could have reached them sooner,” Rodriguez said as he hugged James.

“It’s, it’s alright. I already knew. She sent me a video message about a month ago. I just have a few things to ask,” James responded as tears began to well up in his eyes.

“Anything,” Rodriguez responded.

“Help me carry her out for one more sunrise,” James said wiping the tears from his eyes. And with that, James, Rodriguez, and two other members from the team carried Magdalen’s body outside.

Once outside, them team laid Maggie’s body down for a moment. James removed his vest, reached into the cavity, and handed the journal to Rodriguez.

“Take care of this for me, will you.” And with that, he sat down, and with the aid of his teammates, he put Maggie’s body on his lap and began to talk to her.

“See sweetheart, I told you that you could do anything. You’re the smartest girl I know. Look at you and your friends. You saved the world.” And with the final word, he bit his suicide tablet, and hugged Maggie as hard as he could until fading into sweet darkness.

Thank you for reading my work. If you enjoyed this story, there’s more below. Please hit the like and subscribe button, you can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, and if you want to help me create more content, please consider leaving a tip or become a pledged subscriber.

More from this author: