Author: Alexander Fawn

She had a feeling this was going to be her final visit.

He was lying comfortably when she arrived. He was only just awake. A brief update from the surgeon confirmed her worst fears. She pulled up a chair and sat for a long time simply making eye contact with him, holding back tears. They had spent many happy years together. She leant forward and whispered a few loving words to him. Saying how much she loved him and how she had enjoyed their life together, telling him how wonderful it had been. She had to stop and find a tissue. She wiped her eyes and did her best to smile. With a heavy sigh, she gave his ears a final stroke. He’d always liked that.

She looked up at the man and nodded.

The vet came forward with the syringe.

The planet had been in the grip of a worldwide pandemic.

People in every country were in the throes of mask wearing, social distancing, mass testing and periods of self-isolation. So many aspects of the pandemic were robbing people of their normal everyday life, such as capacity restrictions for venues and events, like private gatherings, concerts, sporting games, and weddings. All of this, together with the ongoing maintenance of contact registers, borders being controlled and from time to time closed and restrictions on international travel. These were all things that did not sit well or come naturally to most of the world’s inhabitants. In many cases these precautions were not being taken, either because people couldn’t or wouldn’t. Meantime, vaccines had be developed and were reaching billions, while the virus had been spreading and killing millions. Doses of the vaccine were being produced in huge numbers and injections of it were given in order to protect the people, but there were cases where the transmitting of the virus was exponentially outpacing the numbers being vaccinated. As time went on, new variants of the virus, that were even more transmissible than the original strain, were adding to the battle to control its spread.

The first four years of the pandemic saw the world struggle against the spread, with a constant effort to reduce the numbers of people being infected. It was around this time, despite the vaccination levels of the world’s population being seen as high, that statistics being gathered internationally by governments and medical institutions around the world were indicating that the dwindling population of the planet was moving towards a point of no return. Meetings being held by world leaders and government representatives had become common, with statistical modelling being carried out in an attempt to predict future events.

It was during the sixth year that the declining population of the planet had been the subject of great concern. The number of people sick and dying from the disease was approaching the point where they represented half of the planet’s population. Again, a great deal of emphasis was being placed on the availability and study of ongoing international modelling. It was becoming obvious that the rate at which data was being generated was rapidly outpacing the ability to analyse it.

At this point, owing to a growing acceptance of the practice of euthanasia, more and more cases of this were being carried out for patients coping with terminal diagnoses in hospitals around the world. The symptoms being experienced by those infected were both distressing and painful and for most patients these were being controlled up to and at the point of death. These contracted periods of suffering, together with the ever escalating numbers of patients, had been the reason for performing so many cases of mass euthanasia.

The possibility had to be considered that eventually all surviving inhabitants on the planet would be suffering, with no way of preventing the complete and inevitable extinction of all human life.

The following questions had to be asked. Wouldn’t the final time for so many be made so much easier with a controlled ending? Despite the projection of there still being vast numbers dying during that final stage, shouldn’t they be allowed the right to have their degradation and indignity come to a merciful end?

It was at this time that an astronomical discovery was made. An asteroid had been detected, that was of such gigantic proportions the like of which had never been seen before. It was generally the case that an object such as this had been pulled out of an asteroid belt by the force of another planet’s gravity, sending it out on a curved trajectory. Nevertheless, both astronomers and the scientific community generally were attempting to estimate how close it would be when it passed the planet. The first figures indicated the huge mass, largely made up of metal and rock, would come within a short distance of the upper layer of the planet’s atmosphere. It was as though the finger of fate was pointing to the solution that was being discussed by world leaders.

In order to bring about a collision with the planet, over a period of several months scientists calculated the precise trajectory that would be required. It would be designed to enable a rocket with a nuclear warhead to deliver a predetermined impact to the asteroid. This would speed up its velocity, and at the same time accurately guide it, in order to make a direct strike at a point that was determined to be the thinnest layer of the planet’s crust. This impact would bring about massive quakes and volcanic eruptions around the planet causing it to enter a long period of incineration.

ereinafter, it would spin and cool and wait for a time when it would allow a rebirth of life.

He and his younger brother were always getting caught up in the business of comparing one another.

It was an ongoing ritual between them while they were growing up. Now, spending time together, he could explain how ridiculous all those silly arguments were.

He sighed heavily and said, “Me being successful didn’t mean that you were a loser. Me being a man of the moment didn’t mean that you were a wallflower. Me being positive didn’t mean that you were negative. Me being healthy didn’t mean that you were sick. Me being clever didn’t mean that you were stupid. Me being good-looking didn’t mean that you were ugly. Me being cashed-up didn’t mean that you were penniless. Me being strong didn’t mean that you were weak. Me being admired didn’t mean that you were despised.”

He paused to look around at the place. He laid his hand gently on the cold marble.

“However, it is true to say that me being a careful driver did make you a careless one.”

The large sitting room at the front of the manor house was empty.

The owner entered the room, he was a big man in his fifties. Maybe older, the author wasn’t sure. As he brushed by the slender table, the Monumental Russian Imperial Cut-Crystal Vase wobbled. It may fall; it may not. He lowered himself into a leather, or perhaps faux leather armchair and picked up the newspaper. It may have been a magazine; the writer would decide that later, depending entirely on whether or not it became relevant. Hardly had he picked up whatever it was, the phone rang. He struggled up, crossed the room and answered it. It was his brother, or his brother-in law, either way he was ringing with bad news. The voice was saying that there had been a terrible traffic accident…

He stopped scribbling. He laid his pen down carefully and stared out into the garden. As a dramatist, he wasn’t sure how the story should develop. He would scribble a note about it later. As for the crystal vase, it didn’t fall off. In the whole scheme of things it probably wouldn’t have mattered if it had.

He wasn’t sure.

An hour ago he wouldn’t have believed that he could do such a thing.

He was sweating. He looked down. He was still holding the heavy mallet. He had been considering the possibility of doing it for some time. Today, when he got home, something had triggered him into action. Maybe it was the thought of having to put up with the ongoing unfinished business every time he came home; came home to the same old thing. Her continual harping on about how useless he was. He wondered whether it was stopping at his local with a workmate; having a couple of beers before coming home, had anything to do with it? Could this had given him Dutch courage? He didn’t think so, knowing how to go about it was hard enough, without being drunk and messing it up.

The rubber mallet slipped out of his sweaty hand and bounced on the carpet. He wasn’t much of a DIY man, but he stepped back further and admired it. She’s going to be so pleased when she gets home, he thought.

A new bookcase for that corner of the room was exactly what she wanted.

He enjoyed what he did, it made him a good living.

He sat fingering the tiny, beautifully hand-carved figure, bought while on holiday in Russia. It was an Amur Leopard. He felt that he and the cat had a lot in common. They were both rare; not many left world-wide. He gave regularly. This was unusual, because he didn’t give often, he was someone who took. He took a lot. Not all at once but moderate sums, regularly. Some might say he didn’t have to work for it, but he did. Research was important. Arranging kickbacks for the guy in the bank, the social security worker, and a couple of others took care of that. It was all about dossiers. Scam targets need to be selected with care. You could say that he needed his targets to be well off; cash poor, but well off. Out of the public eye was good, and of course, greedy enough to take the bait.

He put the figurine back on the corner of his desk and picked up a folder. It was time for some action. There’s one born every minute, just waiting to be fleeced. He opened it and selected the first of three dossiers. At first glance it was the most likely one to go ahead with. He began leafing through what had been gathered.

Respectable city gent, no convictions, large house, family vacation apartment, two cars, two mortgages, mutual funds, some blue chip stock, a number of credit cards, charge cards, store cards, club memberships…

Then he saw it, right near the bottom of the form. Regular donations made to the Save the Amur Leopard Foundation!

The dossier went into the shredder. He picked up the next.

Even a scammer can have a conscience…

He couldn’t believe that he’d landed such a lucrative contract.

The public’s demand for the repair of domestic appliances had dropped off of late, so the job couldn’t have come up at a better time. As a rule, electrical appliances were his thing and this job was a long way from fixing hair dryers and toasters, but if it was electrical, he could fix it. The morning he started at the observatory, one of the chief scientists was on hand to explain what was needed. The recently purchased Blue Beam guidance system required recalibrating. Apparently, it had been knocked about a bit during its transport from overseas. The astronomer said he was heading up a specialist group of cosmologists that were currently studying globular clusters. He said that a cluster is made up of a huge number of stars all tightly bound together.

He went on to describe how there were well over a hundred of these clusters spread across the Milky Way. This system would allow them to accurately target a specific cluster, rather like a laser beam on a rifle, it would provide them with a very accurate visual reference point. He said it was similar to a laser beam, but different. Like the laser it stimulates molecules to emit light, but this blue beam has a far greater range of both wavelength and amplification.

He pointed out that the staff there were really excited about the new piece of equipment and couldn’t wait to have a go with it. With that, the scientist handed him the maintenance manual and left, saying he’d make sure he wasn’t disturbed. He couldn’t help thinking that these people were like a bunch of children getting excited about playing with a new toy.

After looking over the various components and checking that everything was plugged in properly, he read through the manual. He went through the section dealing with recalibration twice. The written instructions were not very helpful. He tried to figure out where the manual had come from. Wherever it was, English was obviously not the writer’s first language.

After tinkering with the various controls for a while he decided to give it a trial run. Having selected a particularly attractive ball of speckled light, he double-checked the screen to ensure that the star field was lined up accurately. He pressed the large activation button and watched the monitor. There was a bright flash and that precise segment of the Milky Way he’d been looking at was now completely black!

Looking back at the digital panel for the cluster locator, he studied the figures he’d punched in for the beam strength and wondered whether he’d put the decimal point in the wrong place. Well, several places, actually. He had the uncomfortable feeling he had inadvertently vaporized one of their clusters. It was just as well he’d been told that scientists believed that the area in question was entirely uninhabited.

Despite that, he knew that the next time their telescope was swung round to look at that specific cluster, there’d be one hell of a stink!

In future, he’d stick to washing machines.

He knows that he’s perfectly sane.

In fact, he knows a lot of stuff that they don’t. He knows they are trying to find out about, you know who, him! But they won’t find out. They’ll never know where he gets his information from. He can see how amazed they are by what he can tell them in his sessions, but he’ll only tell them so much. He was only allowed to keep a few personal items in his room. Things they deemed were safe. Strictly speaking, the rules don’t allow their guests to have access to certain items, such as shoelaces, belts, neckties, and bed sheets. What they are most careful about is denying access to any sharp objects. Naturally this includes mirrors; glass can be broken.

Ha! They let him keep his grandfather’s old pocket watch. They never checked the back. They never even saw that it opened! They don’t know his secret. They must never find out about his secret.

They must never know about his doppelganger who hides in his tiny mirror…

This was the biggest medical trial ever carried out by the research company.

It involved providing packets of tablets to a great many sufferers for them to take as prescribed, over a set period. The tablets, based on a new formula, were painkillers that were developed to target backache. In this trial, half of the patients receive the new drug and the other half the placebo. This being a tablet of the exact shape and colour, with the same markings as the real thing. It’ll have no pharmacological effect whatsoever. The trial was being carried out at great cost to set it up and run it, with more than a million participating in the trial. Obviously, the security for this had to be one hundred percent for the trial to be regarded as proof of how effective the actual drug is.

For this reason, the file containing all relevant information, of which there was only one copy, was kept, password protected, by the company’s head statistician. This file contained the names and addresses of all the patients provided with tablets and lists indicating who received the drug and who received the placebo.

The trial was coming to an end and the statistician would collate all of the results and provide the relevant information at the company’s imminent board meeting. On the morning that saw the last results coming in from the administering doctors around the country, the statistician was busy preparing his report. Having opened the highly secured file with an extremely strong password, he was in the process of tallying…

…he sat staring out of his office window, thinking about the trip to Disneyland with his wife and children next year and how this was no longer likely to happen.

He was thinking about the extremely rare number of times he had inadvertently deleted a file that couldn’t be recovered throughout his entire lifetime.

He was thinking about attending the board meeting that was scheduled to take place during the afternoon.

He was imagining the look on the Chief Executive’s face when he was given the news.

He began to giggle.

An unhappy discovery, an absence of listening,

An apology not given, an awkward goodbye.

An aspiration giving way to a craving.

A decision made on the fly.

On and on, an endless list,

With an echo of something missed.

–

A moment that hangs unheeded.

A silence that runs too long.

Permitting the inherently sordid.

Gestures, where words belong.

–

The guilt from a pointed finger.

Accepting a wrong that’s discerning.

Blind to that which is noble.

Discovering a bridge that is burning.

A pretence that blocks one’s peace of mind.

Being suspicious of contentment.

Judging the solace of others.

Leaving litter behind.

–

Temporarily burying wisdom.

Struggling for some imagined refinement.

Maintaining a pause in a fleeting moment.

Everything out of alignment.

–

Ignoring one’s broken promise.

Fixing emotions on a rigid scale.

One’s attention is drawn to the obvious.

Allowing hope to fail.

–

A flash of unwanted hatred.

A dialect that brings sense to a halt.

Frittering away that of value.

Selling justice short.

Awkward moments; yet they persist.

Always, an echo of something missed.