Only Good Men Deserve Yesterday Read online

  Only Good Men Deserve Yesterday

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Copyright © Arno Le Roux 2016

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronically, electrostatic magnetic tape or mechanically; including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the author.

  For Jacques Louw and others who don't know why time travel makes sense.

  “Only Good Men Deserve Yesterday”

  A Short Story - by Arno Le Roux

  Synopsis:

  We are all absolutely unique and rigid in our personal and preferred approach to problem solving as well as our bias opinions on what constitutes possible, just and ethical. Yet, our reactions to an imminent threat, if immense enough in its proportion, strangely, as if by a shared genetic trait, somehow teaches that we may be hardwired to unite against a common threat. Only during brief flashing periods are we forced to unite under a shared umbrella of a new and inescapable reality. Fine dotted lines that have mapped history, made up the bridges to indicate that when groups and civilisations are forced to drop the egos that cause judgement, the privileges that make us seem different, and those single superior ways of doing things, we can indeed unite. But of course, when we inspect these events closely, at the very heart of it, we learn that it all went hand in hand with major upheavals and upsetting of comforts and sometimes a threat to the survival of the collective, never just a threat to a single person or group or faction.

  From an early age we make peace with the apparent fact that we move forward, no faster and no slower than that ticking clock on the kitchen wall, and that there is an underlying feeling that everything that will be, will be anyway, sometimes we feel this is the case, with or without our contribution..., maybe.

  Maybe the clock on the kitchen wall was the biggest fact or illusion, depending where the disillusioned masses found themselves when news eventually filtered down that a Solar flare of all things, united even those amidst a horrific religious war that had been raging for a decade. The clock on the kitchen wall was designed to tick only in one direction. Clockwise only, on and on and on. This is the one way train ride in line with the system of ageing in which we breathe and think and walk in. Always forward never backward. Living forward, aging daily over time, and on the way we have several appointments with the beacons of the plans we had made. Some beacons were as good as expected or even surprisingly better and others alter our reality in a most unpleasant way. We see and feel how never move anti-clockwise, never backward, and that we are not getting any younger. This is the main truth that holds the realm of impossibilities together. It isn't a mere notion or belief, but an absolute irrefutable fact that we can never visit yesterday again. Or so we are conditioned, just like the clock on the kitchen wall. So, as we store up our vast memories, both delightful and horrid things of all that cannot be experienced again, we continuously expand the realm, of what cannot be visited, and what cannot be undone. The realm of impossibilities of our existence was maybe designed by a great and ancient architect to magnetise us towards the clockwise motioned arms of the clock. Glued to each and every second of this hour, up to when we read these very words. If we were told for long enough by enough respected authorities and people, that we cannot turn this page back, but only page forward, would we believe it and not bother, or in the face of certain demise, would we test this widely held truth? For some, it is not a question of “can we”, but rather, “what do we do knowing that we can?”

  Prologue:

  November 16th, 2018. Two men on different time lines and continents apart, were trying to make sense of their surroundings.

  In Tibet in a dark wooden 1000 year old monastery, perched on the very edge of a high smooth vertical cliff and obscured by thick white clouds, an overwhelmed monk looked down after his morning meditation and gradually absorbed his reality of his wrinkled and stiff hands that he opened and closed. In awe he looked down at his quite out of place silver wrist watch on which the tiny candles’ reflections were dancing in delight. After adjusting the watch strap a little looser, he looked at the time again. Is was a minute later and the second indicator still hadn't moved. He held his wrist up against his ear and smiled at the surreal silence. Ascending slowly to his knees from the lotus position, and then with great effort he rose his feet, he loosened the wrist watch completely and stared at if for a brief few short seconds before pulling his right arm back as far as his aged old muscles allowed. As the watch was hurled out the open window and flew, time strated anew. Time disappeared into a nearby cloud that enveloped the ancient monastery. The old monk slowly made his way to the adjacent room to light a fire and all the while a wide grin pushed his wrinkled old cheeks aside. He commenced his reward for his opus in the form of a well-deserved pot of strong tea.

  In France, in what seemed to have been a monsoon-like gush of never ending water from the heavens, dressed in a brown robe, a soaked old man looked down expecting his bare feet to be washed by the cold torrent flowing past the shop fronts. His brown leather sandals gleamed up at him through an inch of hasty passing rainwater. He was soaked to the bone at 3am outside an electronic shop window, staring slightly bewildered at the mute news presenters on the long row of new Samsung Flat Screen TV’s. The eye-blinding bright red and yellow alternating flashing neon signs which lit up the words “low interest”, “cash discount” and “two per customer”, were the furthest things from his mind. The lights almost induced an epileptic fit that he felt coming on and that he thought he outgrew when he was fifteen. But he wasn't shopping for a special, actually never did. The man found himself staring at unfamiliar that was rolling out in all directions around him. He didn't know where he was and he was absolutely starving. Starving and the overpowering absent sense of belonging would have been a terrible reality to deal with for most people. As hungry as what he was, and knowing he didn't belong, his loud bellowing laugh bounced off his wet reflection in the shop window. Water bounced playfully off his shaved bold old head in all directions and he looked straight up into the black sky and surrendered to the heavy rain that washed his face. His smile under the oddest of circumstances was almost permanent.

  Chapter 1

  November 17th, 2018. A glorious historical day that superseded all other days greeted not only South Africa’s rainbow nation, but even the hostile nations divided up over many time lines. In South Africa, not even the results of the last few seconds of the hysteria of the 1995 Rugby World Cup, or the “peace had dawned” feeling of the April 1994 elections could successfully compete with the collective national racing heartbeats of the excited nation. For what had been maybe the first time in history on a global scale, varied skin colours, race, different, and even opposing ways of worship and political ideologies didn't matter at all. It all joined the plane where bias judgemental Facebook posts resided. The forgotten suburb named irrelevance...

  In a number of countries a multitude of nuclear reactors were about to go online as the world was fixated on the gigantic bright-red digital clocks that were counting down from 2 minutes. It had been too long that the desperate world anticipated a solution to progressively deepening and devastating electricity crises to finally end.

  The almost hypnotic excitement served as proof of man's unity in the face of a daunting future. As long as man had hope to cling to, and a possibility of a better tomorrow, he could inch forward into the abyss like he always did.

  Apart from the gho
st towns where large factories; which were eventually also plundered for their remaining fuel reserves, and homes which had run out of fuel for their generators, only small solar panels, too weak to power anything larger than a home geyser, was as close as mankind came to power. But on a national and international scale there was one single other modern marvel. It was scary in its awesomeness, absolutely detrimental to health and the very last of hopes. And as the last hope, it was about to introduce it bright new tomorrow, which outweighed the frightful possibility that something might go wrong, as well as the consequences of looming Ill health.

  Later as the countdown reached single figures and the images of the clock that was to announce man's salvation, life was put on an unexpected pause...

  Chapter 2

  It was not quite fully understood how, but during the untimely frustrating confusion of what was the last of the power interruptions, the networks which supported synthetic life to both Facebook and Snapchat managed to survive the “The Flare”. Every eye saw it, and the citizens who didn't witness the unholy event, were victims of its far reaching consequences anyway. It was believed that fate had seen to it that there would only be limited communication between the hysterical earth dwellers. Government and military satellites, those mainly for astronomical purposes, and all other satellites that were proudly beaming news and other communication down to earth, had at that very moment finally outlived their high purpose and were aimlessly orbiting and colliding in great firework fashion displays. It was evident that both the single “world renowned” and one “lesser known” social platform were somehow not dependant on the multitude of orbiting specs which up to then, ruled man from the heavens. If the world was to speak, for the foreseeable future at least, it was to be done and heard from through one of the only two platforms of social media. That alone would have been a horrifying thought in a normal reality. But then, the new reality was all but normal.

  It appeared that an almost extinction level Solar Flare had introduced the ultimate chaos yes, completely disabled a host of crucial satellites, also accurate, but importantly, it managed to show an apparent interesting truth. That was the fact that the financial world that had up to then ruled mankind via a fake value that mankind had attached to things. It was at last as fake as the plastic dolls in the quiet toyshops in town. If ever equality had a strange ring to it, that had been it. It was scary in its simplicity. One morning, the freezing cold and barefoot beggar in the park seeking warmth under a heap of newspapers, and the affluent CEO's of large oil and mining conglomerates were worth exactly the same, right down to the valueless last cent. A single almighty flash form the awesome blue heavens, had painted the sky with blinding white halo which circled out into and beyond the horizon. It took mere seconds to lead humanity to an even colder reality than before. It reduced all the testaments to man's ego to what it really was, brick and mortar owned by earth. Dark cities and towns all over the world had no fresh running water and batteries were running out on the last of the electronic devices of which some were somehow not all toasted, as it was referred to. Money could not be withdrawn or transferred and fuel supplies were worthless as both the means to pay and to deliver were rendered useless. It was like a Mad Max movie scene and everyone was either hiding or scattering to find a device with just enough power to find the truth or some version of it.

  Chapter 3

  On Facebook, the ocean of colourful and popular selfies, constant check-ins and motivational quotes were replaced by millions and millions of visitors to mainly three Facebook groups. All of them were identical over the world. The groups were separated by distinctive colours to indicate their importance for the lucky ones who still had sufficient battery power.

  Where fresh water could be located and limited to 500ml per person per day, displayed with turquoise-blue water droplet logos and were really the most active of the groups. Dark green groups indicated food at daily declining levels. All soon learned that military and police both helped themselves and also took armed control of all large food stores and food storage warehouses, where only small rations were made available to whoever was there first until the groups became too large and it became too dangerous for the armed forces. Food was moved around constantly by armed convoys to different locations around the clock to prevent the givers becoming sitting ducks for hungry armed civilians. The plain red circle that could have been mistaken for the Japanese flag was for groups where small first aid kits, penicillin, insulin as well as an assortment of headache tablets and generic medicine to cope with the increasing diarrhoea, had been available. The last on the list of medicine were taken at alarming rates due to the lack of clean water to clean eating and cooking utensils to a healthy standard. In days to follow there was inadequate water for proper bathing, so not even used bath water could be diverted to fill up and flush toilets either in public places or at home.

  Status updates changed from irrelevant biased opinions to the available tinned and fresh food, -medicine and ever changing available water levels. Fresh water levels were as volatile as international forex during the days when that was still of any consequence. Snapchat on the other hand, by virtue of its design served a different purpose for rebels against an already strained system which was battling to cope. Governments referred to them as “Snap Cartels" and they literally formed over night to plunder and hide as much scares resources to sustain the new life as what was possible. By starving masses they were praised as armed angels in a way, as they ensured there was enough to go round in over populated hospitals.

  What used to be gold and cash was fast replaced by batteries and small solar panels as a mode of payment and what was in the past a basic and ignored non luxury item such as toilet paper became indeed a scares luxury. During daylight, which was dim as best, as the weather patterns were apparently not impervious to the effects of the solar flare; entertainment seemingly travelled back in time to days where the appreciation for reading paper books were still common. Books were welcome and sought after distractions in high rise buildings and offices which became residential safe havens away from the downstairs horrors. Maiming and wholesale slaughter in the once high walled and safe residential suburbs for an extra 500ml bottle of water or a plastic bag of apples or potato chips became the norm in just a few short weeks when whatever could be cooked were consumed in its raw natural state as water for cooking purposes was out of the question.

  Chapter 4

  Ten lonely longing years into the life sentences handed down for two "horrid evil souls" as the media had portrayed them; were also placed on pause. Society already replaced the media spectacle of years gone by with other more newsworthy evils the media so generously dished up.

  Tortured, shocked, deprived of sleep and almost drowned on various occasions, the two men eventually were beaten into admitting guilt for a list of murders that could not be pinned on someone else. Political pressure insisted and dictated that the cases had to be dealt with and closed. The fact that the men were innocent was lost somewhere between greed and election campaign contributions for a free and fair South Africa.

  Mistreated for almost a decade, in the most inhumane ways, it was for them as if day after doomed day was imported from hell.

  Then one morning after breakfast which was nothing more than half cooked and unsalted oats porridge, fate paid a personal visit to the two ex-government agents. Fate was a mediator who clearly wielded unlimited power on behalf of his wealthy employer abroad. The tall weathered faced man who spoke broken English, had travelled from Prague with an offer that the distraught men could not refuse. What they were about to get involved in would test the limited amount of the sanity that remained inside their broken minds.

  A lunacy of 10 minutes in a closed cell with the giant of a prison warden and his four guards, had been a long time wish of theirs. As a courtesy their wish came true when it dawned that the power wielded by that most welcome visitor was seemingly unlimited. The visitor looked at his wrist watch and removed it. He han
ded his Rolex to the first man who exited the cell. "You're going to need this. Mine says it was 3 minutes", the visitor's deep voice cracked and he smiled as he fitted the silver Rolex around the tired looking prisoner's wrist.

  The second man exited and the visitor removed his trendy sunglasses and put it on the man's face to cover his bruised eyebrows. "Are we done here?", the visitor enquired. The visitor's curiosity got the better of him and opened the solid steel cell door and looked inside. "Yes, I do believe we have the right men", and the peculiar visitor ended the call and put his mobile phone in his inside jacket pocket while ushering the men to the exit. Inside the cell was the result of 10 long years of bottled-up anger.

  Chapter 5

  For what was left of secrecy and safety in an extreme chaotic world, only two representatives of every government joined the strangest assembly of think tanks. The group, who were initially scattered around the globe, were quietly and separately moved from Johannesburg to London and then from London to Paris. Lastly it became apparent that Prague had been the actual and final destination. They were collected to discuss the impossible task of planning a future closer to the old world. The physically tired and emotionally overloaded experts in their particular fields, all reluctantly joined under armed guard. Only once admitted after sworn to secrecy before being seated, did the group of only 100 learn the true fate of the world. The severe, drastic change from the old comfortable, to the new hellish world had absolutely nothing in common with the aftermath of the widely and wrongly advertised lie of a sun flare, they learnt with horror. The most esteemed mathematicians, engineers, meteorologists, religious leaders, even two numerologists found themselves in a group that were facing, on a ready-made stage in the Alchemist Hotel in Prague; an odd duo.