It's Later Than You Think, Part 9 (2nd version)

Our bemused heroine, Sheila, is casually propelled 300 years into the future to discover some bleak truths. You can start her journey by clicking here.

There is no substitute for a good cuppa cha at moments such as this one: when you learn, for example, that all the knowledge of humankind amassed by the year 2007 had been stored in your brain by a grinning Japanese doctor, or when you are contemplating the serene beauty of Mt Fuji from a wooden veranda 300 years into the future.

We sipped the green tea in silence for some time. The surrounding countryside was scenic: again, it could have been any century that lay before us on the hillsides and in the neat terraced tea fields. Further up the slopes, bamboo forests swished in the breeze.

I am quite ignorant about the latest theories of quantum physics. I have vague notions about matter being particles vibrating at the quantum level, and by "quantum" here I mean "very small." Sitting quietly like this, I could feel my heart beat and the tea warm in my stomach. If all matter at the smallest level is energy, I mused, surely then that energy is a part of every thing that exists at every moment? If that is the case, I asked myself, isn't all matter fluid in time?

The idea that all the current research on this very topic was already in my brain but inaccessible to me was tantalizing. But I tried to reason it out further -- if time is as fluid as matter, then surely I could go back in time, too? I found it difficult to accept that I was here to stay.

One of the habits I had picked up since being implanted with the logs, the current version of a PC that operates in the brain and accesses the Internet wirelessly, was to research every topic as it occurred to me, to ascertain whether any information still existed on the topic -- Kinkaku-ji, the Golden Temple in Kyoto, now came to my mind, and I discovered it still there, in this century. Ryoan-ji, the temple with the famous rock garden -- still there.

Stonehenge? Apparently not -- at least, there were no files available. Intrigued, I now tried to think of places in China that were famous: the Great Wall, of course, the terracotta warriors in Shaanxi Province -- both there. But if some of these historical sites still existed, maybe there were more?  Maybe there were still some traces of humankind's history in Europe?

Dr. Shimata broke the silence and my reverie.

"Your world was unsustainable."

"My world?"

"Yes. Overpopulation alone was irreparably damaging the planet. Add to that the dangers of climate change, with the fragility of the rain forests much worse than anyone had realized, the polar ice melting at a higher rate than was realized, causing rising sea levels, agricultural areas becoming unfarmable, and the terrible civil unrest in Europe and America" (he didn't bother saying Scandanaviam and Americar, the way everyone in the West did), "and it was clear something had to change.

"It had to change globally, and it had to be secret, and it had to be an international effort." Here he paused, and looked at us with apparent bland unconcern. "It also had to destroy many lives."

"How many?"

"It is not known. Billions. In order to save humankind from recklessly causing its own extinction, humankind had to be brought to the edge of the abyss, and reel back in horror.

"After careful planning, a consortium of eminent scientists, acting independently of any military involvement, deployed a series of EMP -- electromagnetic pulses -- from orbit, coordinated exactly to the nanosecond. A large swathe of the northern hemisphere was rendered completely frozen -- computers destroyed, or hard drives wiped, power lines and electricity down; in short, the very technology that made life in your century convenient became junk. The military of each nation did not know whom to target -- but the source of the EMP's, the International Space Station, was immediately destroyed.

"It had long been feared that a group or even a wealthy individual would take matters into their own hands to save the planet from severe climate change and overpopulation. No one could have predicted this move, though, on the part of science. It was utterly unexpected, and left the military powers (although intact themselves) solitary proprietors of a world now crippled."

"You're shittin' me." The words were out of my mouth before I was aware of them.

"No."

"That's just impossible."

Dr. Shimata settled himself more comfortably on the veranda, still in the traditional Japanese sitting position, his legs under him. I realized that my own legs, unused to such strain, had gone to sleep, and I staggered to get up. Jack was by my side immediately, and steadied me so I could stand, and then take a few exploratory steps. My brain, however, took a little longer to recover.

"From the International Space Station? How is that even possible?"

"I can not explain what I do not understand. But I can relate facts that occurred."

"Mad scientists in space? Rogue NASA operatives?"

"And Roskosmos, and the Centre Nationale des Études Spatiales, and JAXA, and the Korea Institute of Space Exploration. . ."

"Ok, ok, I get it."

"Without viable communications, the Northern Hemisphere was crippled. Many ill and handicapped people simply died. It took city dwellers slightly longer to starve to death, those who did not get out. Cars with computerized control systems did not work. Gasoline pumps did not work, or were empty. And the worst part is that no one seemed to have expected it. No preparations for such a strike had been made."

"You saw some of this first hand?"

"Not in America, but here in Japan. Japan was devastated. As you can see, we have returned to a gentler mode of existence."

"And this took eighty-five years? That's the bit I don't get -- surely people had time to rebuild and regroup."

"Simply: no. No raw materials were being imported. Have you ever tried to steer a 90,000 tonne cargo ship that is dead in the water?"

"But what happened next? I haven't been able to access statistics on population figures anywhere."

"No. There is much that we simply don't know, and it was agreed that the less information available on the logs the better. Eighty-five years is a long time, in this case."

I sat down again, but cross-legged this time. Beside me on the veranda, Jack stirred, as if he were going to reach out in comfort or sympathy, but did not complete the motion.

"Tell me about the Middle East."

"It is not. . . there, anymore."

"What does that mean?"

"That was where some of the countries, you remember, had been completely destroyed or were about to be destroyed by America at the time you came through to our present. Palestine, Egypt, The United Arab Emirates -- all went the way of Afghanistan, Iraq, and Iran. There is simply nothing left. No Jerusalem, no Mecca, no 'Cradle of Civilization.' And no people at all."

"Sounds like Pol Pot on a grand scale."

"Yes, that is a sound analogy."

I leaned back against the wall of the house -- Dr. Shimata's account had me straining forward in tense dismay -- and literally swooned. Whether through hunger, light-headedness caused by instantaneous travel from what used to be the American South East to Japan, or the information that murder on such a mass scale had been perpetrated so easily -- almost completely -- whatever the reason, the blue sky went dark and I sank into unconsciousness.