Epilogue:

President Warren Atkinson retired to his private office for the night. There were no windows, the walls were soundproofed, very few were allowed to enter, and the room was periodically searched for listening devices, so he could truly relax here. He shrugged off his black jacket, unbuttoned his shirt, plopped down onto his office chair in front of his desk, and sighed.

It was often strenuous being a good actor for such prolonged periods of time, but he had to put on a facade of being a fool during the day for others, particularly his opponents, to underestimate him. Such deception was also a rare ability only otherwise found in certain notorious news anchors, and he was proud of his ability, for few had seen through it but his main rivals.

He produced an envelope he’d been given by Drake Vandigg, a child that had piqued his and many other Authorities’ interest and continuously impressed. Reportedly, the alien he and his father had spoken to had asked them to deliver it to him.

Just thinking about the importance of talking to the aliens had given him anxiety, especially knowing the two who had been chosen to represent Rencia—an impulsive teenager and his blabbering father, neither of whom paid any attention to politics. Atkinson’s faction had their hands tied during the decision due to their numbers now being a minority. Running the last of civilization while fighting political opponents was stressful indeed.

Finding out that Drake and Bill had been given the opportunity to have five questions answered, and they’d squandered it with frivolous queries… that moment, Warren had felt a sharp pain in his heart, and he had to check to make sure he hadn’t been shot in the chest. They’d wasted two whole questions… one more was about Drake’s friend! Only two questions were useful to Rencia in the end. If only he’d anticipated the scenario and handed the two a paper with important questions in advance.

He sighed. “Nothing to do about it now. Now, let’s open this up and see what’s inside.”

He opened the envelope, which had been sterilized beforehand. Inside was a letter addressed to him printed in legible English.

* * *

It was midnight, meaning no workers were left in the Rencia Biological Research Laboratory building. Dr. Jillian Lazzie yawned as she went to her lab room—lab 5-1. If one observed closely, they’d notice that hers was slightly smaller than the other rooms, which maintained some level of uniformity in structure. The reason was that she’d made some modifications to the room in the month of time leading up to the Apocalypse during which she’d stayed there.

She grabbed three test tubes and went to a test-tube stand on the wall. She inserted them in three specific slots out of the fifteen. She then rotated the stand upside-down. Muffled whirring sounds of mechanisms could be heard, and soon, a door slid inward and aside in one of the walls.

It was the entrance to a hidden room.

Dr. Lazzie nonchalantly entered and closed the door. She sat at a desk and piled aside the mess of confidential files. The desk looking neater, she picked up a special GPS telephone to make a phone call.

“Hello? It’s me.”

* * *

President Atkinson couldn’t believe what he was reading as his eyes quickly went through everything again to make sure he wasn’t mistaken.

“This… no, this can’t be right…! This changes everything!!”

He gently set the paper on his desk and masked his face with his trembling hand.

“What should I do about this…? No,” he took out his lighter, “now’s not the time. It’s too soon for the people to learn of this.”

He gingerly lit the letter and envelope on fire and watched as it started to burn.

“This information shall stay with me till the time comes and Rencia’s ready.”

He tossed the burning paper and cover into the empty waste bin beside his desk. He got up and put on his jacket. He knocked on the wall to turn off the lights and opened the door to leave the room.

Waiting outside was a woman dressed in a suit, with neatly combed, long, auburn hair and a clipboard in her hand, giving her the stereotype appearance of an office secretary.

“You…!” Atkinson exclaimed. “Who are you? How’d you get in here?!”

* * *

“Ah, Doctor Lazzie! It’s been a while,” the voice on the other end of the line cheerily greeted.

“I’ve received the recipe…” Lazzie cut to the chase. She hesitated, “Should I really go through and have my team make it? Doesn’t it defeat the purpose of everything so far?”

“Yes, go ahead. Humanity won’t stand a chance without it.”

“Alright, if you’re fine with it… Also, will this be the last time I hear from you? Are you really leaving for good, Tocarris?”

“Indeed, I am. I am free to do as I please henceforth. I can’t believe the humans had the audacity to make me wait so long, but I was obligated to talk to them due to the message that Sartoogian sent me the day he went and died.”

“What do you plan to do now?”

“I’m not exactly sure yet, but I’m free now, and I don’t care about the consequences. It’s quite… refreshing. What about you?”

“Well, I can now advance humanity’s knowledge at my own pace, though I won’t have your help anymore. I’ll definitely make the Cure and save the world. Sounds nice and heroic, doesn’t it?”

“Well, I wish you luck on that, and I hope we meet again someday. I’d particularly like to see humans develop space travel. They might be able to pull it off in my lifetime.

“That reminds me, keep an eye on Drake and his father. They’re special; they’ll be sure to entertain…”

* * *

“Oh please,” the lady told Atkinson, “I have the authority to go wherever I’d like.”

“And who gave you that authority? Was it Zachary?”

She smiled. “You know, you’ve lost, Warren. You may hold the title of President, but you must acknowledge there are higher powers controlling Rencia now.”

“We’ll see about that. As long as we’re willing to fight, we haven’t lost.

“Anyway, I thought I saw you somewhere before… wait, then, was Zachary the one that gave Drake the conference pass?”

“I didn’t come here to talk about that stuff. You see, we have a certain proposition for you…”

The President went into the hallway, closing the door to his office behind him. The room was once more cast into darkness, the only light source left being the clandestine embers in the trash can providing evidence that paper had been burnt…

Timeline:

“World War III had crippled the college system, the Space Wars had put an end to government research, and private research had stopped: companies were too focused on trying to survive in the short-term, and who could blame them? That became the norm with the lazy culture that had developed.

“The world after the Space Wars has become ‘poor’ indefinitely. Poor not compared to pre-WWIII, since we fortunately still have food and shelter, but compared to before the Space Wars.”

– “Where It Went Wrong: A Study into the Economics of the Modern Era.” 2143

2064-66 – World War III 2075-84 – Second Great Depression 2130-34 – Space Wars March 20, 2135 – Drake is born November 2150 – PVC Base-Ship arrives at Shitchi-One May 10, 2151 – The Day of the Apocalypse; the Mist, Mutants arrive May 25 – Drake wakes up in Rencia May 27 – Drake joins the Defense Militia July 4th – Gorilla attacks July 17 – Drake wakes up after the explosion put him in a coma September 8 – Expedition begins September 18 – Militia arrives at Cyll; Raven incident September 23 – SORS is explored September 30 – Supply drop October 1 – Incident with Tom; Departure from Cyll October 10 – Return to Rencia October 11 – Betrayal; Battle against Steve October 22 – Drake wakes up (again…) October 23 – Smummr; Space-pod arrives November 20 – Drake and Bill go to space