Once Upon A … – Opening Chapters

PROLOGUE

ONCE UPON A … Hmm? What is that missing word? In the world way, way into the future, everyone has forgotten it! For this is a fairytale from the future and not from the past—although a Fairy of the Past does come in to it!

In this future where Amy Ivystone lives, thick forests, lonely mountains and roaring rivers dominate the land. The teeming cities and towns are no more. The highways and roads have given way to coarse countryside. You see, everything in the world fell into a sorry state of disrepair. Why? Well, because the Earth, Moon, Sun, the other planets and even the stars came to a sudden standstill one day.

They ground to a halt—just like that. The celestial bodies were given no space to roam! In fact, the Universe appeared to have come to a standstill. But no one ever worked out why? Shortly after it happened, a few scientists offered explanations, but they were chasing shadows of the truth. A few religious leaders tried their hand at an explanation, but they were chasing ghosts of the truth.

But the incredible Universe-defying event not only affected the celestial bodies, they affected the lifespans of the animal kingdom, but had no effect on plant life. Every animal would remain at whatever age it was at the time of the event. A human would remain alive, provided they could avoid death. One last effect was that no animal could have offspring.

In this future, Amy Ivystone lives on a continent once known as North America, but now known simply as the Land.

How old is she? She is twelve … however; it is not that simple … for she has lived for millions of years. If one was to ask her how old she was, she would reply, “Twelve.” If one was to ask her if she was twelve years old, she would not understand the word “years” and probably give you a sideways look. In fact, to say to someone, “How old are you?” only just about makes sense in this future; it would be far better to say, “What age are you?”

To be honest, Amy was born so long ago that she and everyone else alive on the Earth has forgotten the word “years”, or that they were ever born. So Amy is of age twelve, always was and always will be; she was created at that age, and will die at that age—so she and everyone else believes.

Well, I admit this might all sound a bit confusing, so let’s just start this fairytale of the future by transporting ourselves back to the point moments before the incredible Universe-defying event occurred. That’s right,  when the celestial bodies suddenly stopped in their cosmic tracks, and when Amy was twelve years old and her family name was Iversen rather than Ivystone (her eventual future family name that evolved to suit her future environment) …

1

THE DAY THE UNIVERSE STOOD STILL

TWELVE-YEAR-OLD AMY was sitting around the kitchen table with the rest of her family in their city flat overlooking 42nd Avenue, Brooklyn, enjoying their midday lunch. There was little sister Catherine, baby John, and Mr and Mrs Iversen (rather than Ivystone, the eventual future family name that evolved to suit their future environment). Oh yes, and last, but not least, there was Toby, the pet dog.

Amy was just about to scoop her spoon into her pudding-bowl and capture the remnants of some apple-tart poking out from some custard, when suddenly a sensation not unlike the sharp, but smooth, braking of a car, made her miss her target. She lurched forwards and her eyes headed straight for the apple-tart remnants. But before her face could plunge into her pudding-bowl, she was subjected to a slight jolt, as if a braking car had hit a bank of compressed air. She felt herself slowly flung back, as if in a dream. Pinned against the kitchen wall, she realised the pudding-bowl was sliding slowly towards her. She felt helpless to do anything about the bowl’s inexorable progress. And so the bowl landed upside down on her lap, which left her dripping in thick, sticky custard, and scolding apple-tart. “Aaaarg!” she cried out in pain, managing to at least swipe off the bowl and its contents off her lap. Finally, the whole kitchen shuddered violently, punctuating the end of the disturbingly outlandish event.

“My God! What on earth?” cried Amy’s mother.

Meanwhile, the circular analogue kitchen-clock was jolted off the wall. Coughing out its battery, it crashed down on its edge on the wooden kitchen-table, which was flush against the wall the clock was originally hanging on. It then rolled and wobbled in a lazy, drunken fashion on its circular edge down the table towards Amy. Then, taking the place where her pudding-bowl had been, it tipped over and began to spin and rock on its circular edge, until it decelerated to a standstill.

Amy stared down at the clock as it lay flat on the kitchen table right in front of her. From her point of view, it had come to a rest in a perfect reading position, as if she had placed it there. It had stopped the moment the battery had dislodged itself. All the hands—the big hand, the little hand and the seconds hand—were on top of one another and pointing directly up to the twelve.

It turned out to be quite an accurate clock, because scientists later concluded that the disturbingly outlandish event occurred at exactly midday, that is to say at noon, or twelve o’clock, precisely. For Amy and her family, the sight of the clock frozen at noon acted both as a signal and metaphor for the moment life on Earth began its journey into a dystopian catastrophe.

“What just happened?” asked Amy, who had rushed to the kitchen sink to wipe down her jeans with a warm wet dishcloth.

“I don’t know,” answered her father. “I’ve been in a few earthquakes in my time, and it seemed different from that. Luckily, I’m a professor at a university. I’ll just call someone in the Department. See if anyone knows what the event was, what caused it, and how widespread it was.”

Mr Iversen plucked his phone out of his pocket …

Half an hour later, with everyone still sitting at the kitchen table—except for Toby, who was obediently sitting close to the table, looking as if he sensed the magnitude of the situation …

Mr Iversen shakily fidgeted his phone back in his pocket

“So I’m sure you picked up on most of that conversation,” he said. “And Professor Lang sure knows what she’s talking about. She should do. She is the leading Professor in the Astronomy Department. In a nutshell, the event occurred everywhere at precisely twelve o’clock, midday. And when I say everywhere, I mean everywhere. Not just on the Earth, but as far as Professor Lang and her colleagues could ascertain, throughout the entire Universe. For instance, the Earth, the Moon, the Sun and all the planets have all stopped spinning and moving.”

“Does the Sun spin?” asked Amy.

“Not at the moment. But until that event occurred, it used to spin about once every twenty-seven days. Professor Lang and her team confirmed it has stopped spinning by observing that its sunspots are held in place. It took about twenty minutes to confirm.”

Mrs Iversen looked petrified.

“I had better get to the hospital,” she said. “I’m a nurse. It’s my duty.”

“No,” said Mr Iversen. “This situation has gone way beyond helping out the hundreds, possibly thousands, of people who must have been injured in the event. Of course, it’s your decision, Janet, but I think as a family we need to go to the university’s catastrophe bunker. Of course, it was designed for a different kind of catastrophic event. However, it will still do the same job.”

“Are things that bad?” asked Mrs Iversen.

“According to Professor Robinson, they are. He’s one of the world’s leading experts on catastrophe. You must have heard me talking on the phone about disease, war, famine.”

“Yes. But surely he was talking about Third World countries.”

“No. He was talking about every town and city in America. We’ve got less than two hours to get to that bunker before it’s sealed. So let’s take half an hour packing our world into our bags and get going. We will have to walk, I’m afraid. Professor Robinson has assured me the roads will soon be closed to all traffic as the first signs of panic and rioting start spilling out onto the streets. Calm will only be enforceable for a limited period. So come on, let’s go! We can think of this as a great adventure.”

“Will there be other children in the catastrophe bunker?” asked Amy, who was soothing her scolded thighs through her jeans with a cold wet dishcloth.

“Many. It’s a very big bunker. There will be plenty of opportunity for both you and Catherine to learn and play in complete safety while the rest of the world goes nuts and destroys itself.”

“Can we bring the Thompsons? Sheila’s my best friend.” Amy looked hopefully at her father.

“You are very fortunate, Amy. Because Sheila’s dad also works at the University. So Sheila and her two brothers will all be in the bunker.”

“Mr Thompson, works at the University?” Amy raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“Yes. He doesn’t teach students, like I do. But he’s a researcher. Something to do with biology. Now we can’t chit-chat any longer. Let’s get on with things—now!”

2

SAFE IN A DYSTOPIAN CATASTROPHE

LIFE IN THE catastrophe bunker was a pleasant affair. Amy and the other occupiers had everything they needed, and having many of the world’s leading scientists helped them solve any problems they encountered with ease. And as there were no problems with radiation, they knew they could leave the bunker when and if safety allow them to do so.

However, life outside the catastrophe bunker was another matter. It was an unpleasant affair. Professor Robinson had been right. The world outside the bunker fell into a dystopian catastrophe so severe only a handful of bunker staff were allowed to surveil it. One of their main surveilling instruments was a simple, mechanically operated periscope device that could view Brooklyn and the surrounding areas from a telescope positioned on the university’s roof.

After the first few months, Sheila’s dad, Professor Thompson, made a startling discovery. He announced it over the bunker’s monitor system …

“This is an urgent news bulletin,” said the authoritative voice of Professor Thompson. “Here, in the biology section of the bunker laboratories, I and my team have made a startling discovery. It is probably more good news than bad news, but I’ll just tell you it in easy-to-understand terms. I’ll tell you the bad news first. No animal, including us humans, can ever have offspring. Sorry to have to tell you that, but c’est la vie—that’s life.

“And now for the good news. The celestial bodies of the Universe were not the only things that stopped. So too did our ageing. That’s right, provided we do not get killed by disease, famine, thirst, fire, or anything else we can think of, we will live forever. The same applies to all animals. This will be good news for us in the future, as we won’t have to worry about plagues of locusts or attacks by any other animals. The truth is, all the animals will diminish as they end up killing each other through the food chain. This also explains why we have not felt the need to sleep. We never will from now on. So don’t worry about sleeping. We will just do different activities during those hours to give us a sense of order, at least at first. And now, Professor Bainbridge will take over the broadcast.”

Professor Thompson vacated his chair, and Professor Bainbridge took his place. She was a very wise-looking Professor with wild grey, dishevelled hair.

“Yes, thank you for that startling discovery, Professor Thompson. I would simply just like to say in my authority as the Bunker Commander that our path is clear. We need to stay in this bunker for as long as possible before using it as our base to expand out into the city to come up with a method of living. We have enough food to last for eighty years. In my authority as a scientist of human catastrophe management, along with help from Professor Robinson, I have concluded disease will have destroyed almost the entire world population within just five years. There will be so many deadly diseases that someone having immunity to them all will be very rare. There will possibly be a relatively small number of survivors. Maybe even as much as a million who have initially found some sort of isolation in the way we have. We will have to assess the survivors to ensure they are not a threat to us before we leave the bunker. So that is all for now.

“So enjoy the fact that you won’t age another second. Unfortunately for me, being seventy-three years old means I will stay being an old woman. But I have to say, there is one piece of news that Professor Thompson forgot to tell you. He and his team also discovered that any cuts, bruises, or broken bones, will cure themselves. Unfortunately, this is a slow process, so it will not prevent a catastrophic injury or a lethal disease from causing death. I must say, for me, the mind is more important than the body. So I’m very happy, despite being old, because my mind feels as clear as a fresh mountain stream. Good day to you all.”

The monitor went blank for a few seconds and then came alive with the twenty-four-hour bunker news channel that played continually during the day. Although ‘day’ now meant a continual day. And more precisely, a ‘day’ that was always midday. If anyone ever got out of the bunker, the Sun would be shining down on them right at the top of the sky. And that was because the disturbingly outlandish event also happened to occur on the twenty-first of June.

“So I’m going to be twelve forever, am I?” asked Amy, pulling at her mother’s sleeve.

“It looks like it.”

“Very disappointing.” Amy pulled a protesting scrunched-up face.

“Are you worried that you’ll never become an adult?”

“No, Mum, I’m upset that I won’t be getting any more birthday presents.”

“Well, we’re still keeping to historical dates. So on the eighth of September, I’ll give you a birthday present.”

“But I won’t be thirteen.”

“No, but it will still be your birthday.”

“No, it won’t.”

“Why?”

“Because there are no more days. There’s just the here and now. It is forever twelve o’clock, midday, on the twenty-first of June.”

“Well, I suppose you could look at it that way.”

“Mum, what will become of us?”

“Well, pretty much nothing for at least eighty years, by the sounds of it. Then after that, who knows? I can’t see any human diseases being left lying around. The midday sun will see to that. And with our expert biologists, even if there are any surviving humans carrying a disease while being immune to it, our biologists will develop a vaccine—if they haven’t already.”

“But some diseases can be spread from animals to humans. There was that bat flu thingy a couple of years ago.”

“That is true. I’m afraid for that reason, given the stakes, and weighing risk versus benefit, we will have to kill all these animals—if any of them have survived.”

“But what about Toby?” Amy gave her mother a hangdog look, surprisingly and empathetically looking very much as Toby looked right now.

“Well, he’s in the same situation as us. So as long as he doesn’t get bitten by another animal, or come into contact with one in some way, he’ll be just fine. It will be interesting to see just how many animals there are left alive in eighty years. I should think we will be staying near this bunker, and probably in it again after we have replenished it. When you have thousands and thousands of years to live, what would it matter if we stayed in the bunker for a thousand of them?”

“Well, it would be safe. But we’ve got to live our lives. I don’t wanna stay in here for a thousand years, Mum.”

“Well, let’s just see what happens, Amy dear.”

“Okay. Well, I’m going off for a walk around the bunker. I’ll pay Catherine a visit in the Bunker Nursery.”

“All right, dear. I’ll see you later. I have some nursing duties. People are still suffering from minor viruses. Of course, we will be able to eradicate all viruses soon no matter how minor in the controlled environment of our catastrophe bunker.”

“Don’t worry about anything, Mum. I think we’ll do just fine,” said Amy cheerfully. And with that, she marched off with a smile on her face.

3

THE DEATH AGE AND THE GREEN AGE

SIXTY YEARS LATER, in the Bunker Refectory, Professor Bainbridge made her daily breakfast announcement over the bunker’s monitor system …

“Good morning, everyone—even though technically it is midday, as per usual. Right, I have some interesting statistics to share, having collected them from all of our academic departments. We have Harold Bush, who was the incumbent American president when the disturbingly outlandish event occurred, and his fellow White House bunker survivors to thank for the data. Their use of a nuclear-powered submarine and a converted nuclear powered air-filtered armoured truck, along with their mobile science laboratory, has been very useful in their data collection efforts. Given the consistency of the data trends, we can be 99% confident of their conclusions. So …

“If we exclude humans for now, almost all the Earth’s animal kingdom has become extinct. Some were killed and eaten by humans (livestock and the like) or simply killed by humans in a battle for survival. Other animals … well, they whittled themselves down as an ecological consequence of the food-chain, as was originally predicted sixty years ago by Professor Thompson. Flesh-eaters killed and ate the plant-eaters. Then when all the plant eaters had been eaten by the flesh eaters, as the flesh eaters got hungry, they turned on each other; even within the same species, and even within the same litter. And then, the few remaining ones have mainly died from disease, starvation, thirst, devastating widespread fires. And of course, the majority of those that survived the consequences of the food chain and natural disasters have simply died of accidents.

“For humans, the picture is pretty devastating, but some have survived, as their greater intelligence enabled them to come to terms with the situation and learn how to live on a non-flesh diet. They also had ample weapons to defend themselves against the quickly decreasing wild animals. As you might expect, their greatest threat is themselves. And of course, some pets have survived. Mainly dogs. I’m afraid cats, unlike dogs, don’t have the digestive systems to thrive on a non-flesh diet.

“The human population of the world has dwindled to less than one million, all told. From now on, the world’s population will only ever decrease. And eventually—who knows how many years—humanity will be no more. Of course, we have left the story of our kind on the space station for visitors from other worlds to find, who may one day visit the Earth.

“As for the plant kingdom, the shoe has been on the other foot. Even without bees, it seems to have flourished. Slowly but surely, all the cities, towns and villages of the Earth are being suffocated by the ever-growing ever fruitful plants. At least this bourgeoning vegetation seems to have some sort of self-control. The grasses in the countryside only grow to a certain length, in most cases.

“Professor Robinson has put forward the idea that we have been living in the Death Age, and we are now rapidly emerging out of it into the Green Age.

“Thank you for listening to this latest announcement. And may I remind you that we just have twenty more years to go locked up safely in this bunker. Enjoy your breakfast.”

The monitor went blank for a few seconds and then came alive with the usual twenty-four-hour bunker news channel.

* * *

Twenty years later, in the Bunker Refectory, Professor Bainbridge made her daily breakfast announcement over the bunker’s monitor system …

“Good morning, everyone,” she said. “Well, we’ve come to the end of our eighty years stay completely locked up in the bunker. We have done well. We haven’t lost a single soul. And there is no doubt we have not aged a single day, as Professor Thompson originally stated that we wouldn’t. We have even managed to grow plant and fungi-based food. So we could stay here quite easily for at least another ten years. But, we will now start to engage in a period of expanding out of our bunker, which will always remain our shared home.

“In a couple of hours, we are expecting the arrival of Harold Bush and his White House bunker brigade. They have established complete control of the entire North American continent. To be honest, there was not that much left to control.

“Once Harold Bush and his team have passed through our medical check corridor, which we have only just established outside the bunker these last few days, all the details on how we will go about expanding our way out of our home will be detailed.

“So enjoy your breakfast; for tomorrow—if such a notion makes sense anymore—some of you might be taking your breakfast out under the midday sun on the deck of a surfaced nuclear submarine.”

The monitor went blank for a few seconds and then came alive with the twenty-four-hour bunker news, whose hosts sounded very excited at the imminent freedom that was beckoning.

* * *

The visit by Harold Bush and his fellow White House bunker survivors went very well. There was no hidden agenda or nasty trick to take over the bunker and use its occupants as slaves. Professor Robinson had previously assured everyone that nothing untoward would occur, but all the same, it was nice to see that nothing did.

* * *

And so it was only a matter of a couple of hundred years into the pleasant bountiful Green Age, before everyone ended up living in the countryside in individual homes, many miles apart. There was no need of weapons and it was easy to live off the land on a diet of vegetables, fruits, cereals, nuts and mushrooms.

The continent’s weather was very clement. Its temperature was constantly warm and made comfortable by a constant refreshing breeze. Rain was light, periodic and welcomed. And the survivors referred to the continent, simply as the Land.

The survivors of the disturbingly outlandish event usually built their homes by shallow rivers to aid safe sanitation; but also because their best method for creating energy, which soon became only useful for cooking and washing, was by building small windmills partly powered by the flowing waters of the shallow rivers. And it did not matter that they lived miles apart from one another, because their eternal lives meant any distance travelled was irrelevant. And after a further few thousand years, Amy thought nothing of going on a trip by foot right across the continent and back. She avoided travelling through cities, because although tempting to want to break into shops and the like through the heavy vegetation, there was a realistic chance of an accident that could seal her fate. The art of staying alive had boiled down to simply avoiding an accident.

As for the surviving scientists, after thousands of years, none of them had been able to explain the cause of the disturbingly outlandish event, nor the effects on life that followed. And any hope that the Universe might somehow recommence had been given up on. Of course, there must have been a cause for the celestial showstopper. But what could it possibly have been? And would anyone discover this cause? And if they did, would they ever be able to put the Universe back in its normal working order?