The Way to Mars.

Chapter 1

Part One

A B, a worker droid in a hospitality building on planet 10, was telling the tale of how Xenon and AA saved Earth 0.1 from the deprivations of humanity that were destroying it.

A B was recalling the story by dictation during a work break when suddenly a bunch of unruly space veterans that were there holding a reunion party burst in and took over A B's narration. They insisted they wanted to tell their part in the historical events their own way. The following is how it turned out.

Chapter 1

The Way to Mars.

The Beginning.

Harry, Wendell William Wallup's partner, went first.

"It all began like this, ", he recalled. Wendell was the leader of the newly formed Real, Real-World Party, and very much a modern-day Bob Marley stereotype. He was sitting at his desk in the comfort of his semi-detached suburban home in Ratham, writing a speech for his party's upcoming convention that was to be held in Lewisford South East London the next day.

Harry, Wendell Wallups' partner, sat down and made himself more comfortable as he told the tale. The gathering of vets did the same.

Wendell is of West Indian descent. He has a slight physique and stands four feet six in his built-up shoes. ('Just right for me') he comments.

"As I remember. He didn't feel up to speech writing that day, what with all the other work he had been doing, such as canvassing for recruits to the Real, Real World Party and his voluntary work in the pro Bono law centre. He had earned himself a minor break, but there was no time available in his busy schedule. He enjoyed leaving his thick dreadlocks to flow freely when he was home, but since it was time to wind, not unwind, he grabbed his favourite beanie of red, gold, and green, folding his thick dreads into it. Now he was in work mode, ready to do battle with all who dare to abuse and ill-treat others. That was my brave Wendell. That's just the guy he is still to this day".

"He would have been running his hand down Rasta's back as he wrote. Rasta, his beloved German shepherd, would respond by shaking out his shiny coat and stretching in response to his greeting. He had rescued the faithful canine companion from being a neglected guard dog at a scrap metal yard, but now he was a fine-looking animal, compared to when we first saw him. His fur had matted into dreadlocks due to neglect, which is why Wendell named him Rasta. Now Rasta no longer cowered or whined; he could trust again. He had always stood tall and proud, but of course, after cleaning him up, we now had an even more imposing-looking dog. We often laughed as Rasta delicately used his nails to enter his ear to remove some earwax that had been irritating him. Amused by Rasta's antics, Wendell would pat him on his head".

"Remembering that he had left the kids to read a book when they kept calling on him, he left his writing for a while and came upstairs to check on them, first in their rooms, then in me and Harry's room. He chuckled when he finally found the missing children on the enormous bed Wendell and I shared. They were fast asleep, with me in attendance. I saw his heart was warm. Paul, aged six, and Rachel, aged seven, were our adopted darlings, and we did all we could to protect them from any unpleasant harsh reality. They had already been through enough with the deaths of their parents".

"I used to go by the name Hilario; I met Wendell on a dating app. He came to see me in the Philippines, after thar we organised a fiancé visa so that I could come to the UK, and we got married after that. I grew up an orphan and taken in by the prostitutes of a Manila slum area. They cared for me and chipped in to pay for my schooling and other needs. Since coming to the U.K., I changed my name to Harry to fit in better.

Harry goes into a trancelike state, with a dreamy expression and glazed eyes reminiscing he re-envisions the scene.

"Let's put the kids to bed," says Wendell. I have work to do."

They carry one little bundle each and tuck them into their respective bedrooms. He hated being apart from his children for so long, but knew he had to work on his pitch and make it perfect. The success of the pitch he was planning was crucial. He could practically see and hear it all now as he tiptoed down the creaky stairs, returning to his desk after pressing kisses to the cheeks of his loved ones.

He returned to writing his speech, drifting in and out of reality as he wrote. "Dear Real, Real World Party members and fellow Earth astronauts, I want to chat with you about the current state of events on our planet and what the Real, Real-World Party intends to do about it".

He would imagine the scene in the Town Hall where he was due to appear the next day, me and our two children sitting in the front row, admiring him as he spoke to the crowd of party members and other interested people.

"I've enlisted the help of various experts on problematic world issues. And they have kindly agreed to travel from their respective corners of the planet to talk to us today. Space exploration is just one aspect I will bring to your attention. I want to introduce you to Professor Grabinski, a renowned astrophysicist. He is speaking with us today because he admires our environmentally conscious attitude.

Knowing something about him from YouTube videos and scientific articles, Wendell continued to imagine the scene, scribbling quickly as he did. Wendell's imagined audience stood up and applauded when Professor Grabinski walked up to the microphone.

60 years old, he comes from an Eastern European country, and speaks with an accent from there. He is one of the few people who risked life and limb to leave the Soviet Union during the communist era and escape the iron curtain. He is overweight and untidy, with static-charged hair and whiskers flying around. But it was not just his weight that made him stand out. His ill-fitting clothes give him a comic appearance. He purchased them hurriedly in a charity shop in Old Cross on his way to the Town Hall from the airport. This was clear from the labels, which he hadn't removed. He was concerned that he may pong a bit because of the long time he had spent travelling to get there.

He was correct, he'd come all the way from Ivinia, ten hours on a bus, five hours on a train, three and a half hours on an aeroplane, then another train, bus, and train to Lewisford with no chance to shower. It was taking its toll. His big brown eyes were bloodshot from jetlag and lack of sleep; they peered at the world through thick lenses supported by strong black frames. A bald patch separated his grey hair.

The professor walked toward the microphone, grasping it clumsily. The audience's attention was drawn to a huge blue stain on the top pocket of his beige jacket, caused by a pen which was leaking blue ink.

"Thank you so much for coming, everybody. It makes my heart sing to know others feel like I do about the state of our solar system and want to do something about it. Ladies and gentlemen, space exploration, or, to be more accurate, space exploitation, is progressing quickly. In the past, it was the domain of governments. Now, corporations have taken up the challenge, which suggests that profit and power are now the motivating forces, it's no longer just in the interest of science and political prestige."

There was a rumbling in the crowd at his declaration, but he continued.

"All that is true, " the real Professor interjected, waking Harry from the reminiscent state that he was enjoying so much. "Let me tell everyone the part about my speech." He pleaded.

Hilario reluctantly gave way but not without a huff of resentment, and the Professor took over the storytelling. "Currently, space missions to the moon are being funded to mine minerals, meet Earth's energy requirements and help to colonize Mars. Even though Earth's resources are far from being depleted, it is preferable to get them from the moon. Moon rock, properly called Helium-3, is an important part of the process of nuclear fusion because it makes the huge amounts of energy needed to propel a rocket beyond the Earth's atmosphere. We have little Helium -3 here on Earth, which makes trips to the moon even more appealing. Mining it on Earth is difficult sometimes because the few countries where it is sourced are often in dispute. The principal goal of going to the moon is to mine it. They say it is no accident that the space shuttle's payload is 250 tonnes, the same amount of moon rock required to power the United States for a year. Because a rocket uses so much energy to get away from Earth's gravity, the moon with its lower gravity will also be a better source of materials for people looking to colonising Mars.

I told them a little about my latest research work on a revolutionary scientific discovery that is slowly gaining recognition., how I planned to teleport humans into space so that we can colonise all the planets in the goldilocks zone. I told them about my harnessing the ability of water to retain a memory of its past. A revolutionary scientific discovery that is slowly gaining recognition after getting a bas rap in the past..

I have been doing some research on it. Tests show how water can keep information from its environment, such as the genes and DNA it absorbs from organisms it interacts with. I thought that data from bacterial and viral sources can be uploaded, digitized, and stored in the memory of water, allowing for potential advances in medical treatments, but I have plans to use it to teleport to distant planets.

I drank water while holding my moustache up laughing and giggling because I could see there were children in the crowd. I do this on purpose to relax them by making them laugh because my lectures are so long and boring for the children. I didn't realise until later that ink from my pen in my top pocket was leaking and was now spreading to my face as well. My moustache was now a lovely shade of blue. The crowd murmured again. Some of them may have questioned my reasoning, but many of them knew it was fact.

I continued, "Space tourism will fund the first colonies on the moon. The moon and mars will serve as the first stepping stones toward space colonization. Exoplanets in the Goldilocks zone will be our target. We had our sights set on Proxima B, but it's no longer a candidate, because a solar flare from its sun wiped out any atmosphere that might have been able to support life. However, other exoplanets might. be more suitable. Proxima C has now become the main point of interest. The 4250 light-year journey to the constellation of Centaurus, where it is located, would take many generations of humans to complete at current speeds, making travel there a 70,000-year-long venture."

I clumsily dropped some papers I was holding and bent over to pick them up.

While doing so, I turned my enormous derriere toward the audience and revealed a sticky label that read '50p' on the trouser pocket, which caused some audience members to laugh. I do this to lighten the mood in the room. I don't pick up all my papers to show the audience that I can manage without them, that my message is my true belief and knowledge. Not just words on a page that I am spouting. Its such a pressing topic I do not need any reminders about it.

I continued, forcing the hall to go silent again and pay attention to what I was saying. "If other forms of propulsion like Ion and Warp drives become available, the situation will get better, These things and many more, such as terraforming Mars and colonizing Proxima C, may be possible soon, and it's simply a race to get in first. Genetics, organ and limb renewal, and the birth of our most recent science, quantum biology, are all being developed and will soon play an important part in making the colonisation of space possible. But the question is whether it is better to spend all this time and money colonizing space rather than healing the Earth. Some believe both can be accomplished; I am one of those."

I finished with a smart-guy smugness and then turned back to the crowd. As I delivered the last line of my speech, my face showed no further signs of playfulness.

"We're like a hermit crab that's outgrown its shell and is looking for a new one. Because a hermit crab lacks a shell of its own, it must search the seafloor for an unoccupied, suitable, larger substitute to protect its vulnerable shell-less body when it grows too big for the current one."

"I finished my speech convincingly, I think'" I hope someone somewhere is listening to me as well.

Wendell, assuming the role of Master of Ceremonies, started clapping first. The move immediately prompted the rest of the crowd, who were mumbling and talking among themselves, to do the same. "Thank you, professor," Wendell called. Despite the persistent applause, the professor returns to his seat. "Thank you all," the professor says, waving his stick at them as he sits in the back row of the platform with the other distinguished guests.

He is too tired from his journey from the airport to the auditorium of the Lewisford Town Hall, which Wendell had hired for the occasion, to go through the applause and acceptance bows.

"OK, Harry jumps back in. " may I finish what I was telling everyone?

"Certainly, Harry, and thank you for letting me intrude on your very important contribution to the story."

"You're welcome, ", Harry responds, somewhat less indignant, and took up where the professor left off..

Now my Wendell came out of his imagined lecture and speech-writing mode. He had watched the professor's lectures on mytubely so many times he knew exactly what the professor would be saying.

It had become dark and cold while was writing so he hadn't noticed so engrossed and in a writing fervour, living his dream, albeit on paper. As he comes back to reality, he realizes he has been daydreaming about preparing his speech. This interests him. He believes that daydreaming is a type of virtual reality, as are reading and writing, novels, watching movies, etc. he enjoys the sensation of entering another world, both real and not real, simultaneously. He realizes that this includes theatre and television, particularly soap operas and movies. As a lover of V.R., this intrigues him.

He is still thinking his deep thoughts, while stepping gingerly up the creaky stairs to check on the little ones, who are still sleeping soundly in their rooms with the doors slightly ajar and nightlights on. He sighed a warm, contented sigh, thinking about our plans for them and being proud to have provided them with a secure future. As Wendell approached the main bedroom, I was also in bed reading, with the bedside light on and the door ajar.

"Are you going to be writing all night?" I called out. "I'm afraid so, love," Wendell replied, entering the room. "Would you like a drink?" "No, I want a cuddle, Dub," I pouted. Wendell often answered to "Dub," my pet name for him.

There have been several names for Wendell over the years. He told me the bullies at school called him Wendy, but his friends sometimes called him WWW dot because of his initials, which I shortened to Dub.

"Well, you are out of luck because I know what that will lead to, and I have to write this speech," he said and skipped off down the stairs before having time to persuade him otherwise. "Blast!" I remember saying to myself, returning to my book. A poor substitute for what I had in mind.

Wendell went off to make himself a hot chocolate drink in the kitchen of our recently updated, squeaky clean, three-bedroomed semi. Rasta positioned himself by the kitchen door. "I need to go out for a wee and a pooh," he showed with his body language. These nights we use the garden because it is too dangerous to go dog walking in the streets. As Wendell opened the door for Rasta, within seconds, there were crashing sounds and barking as Rasta chased something in the garden and disappeared into the darkness. When he came back, he had a shoe in his mouth.

"Not one of ours," Wendell remarked to himself. "Good boy, Rasta." He said, petting our canine friend.

Seconds later, there was a screeching sound, like a car pulling away at speed. As he was about to close the shed door, he realized he'd forgotten to get a padlock for it. Although it would not do much good anyway, as thieves usually come armed with a pair of bolt cutters. But it would satisfy the insurance company that they had tried to protect their property.

He also notices that the prowler has already piled up a few items from the shed against the fence by the roadside, ready to pass them over to an accomplice before escaping with the loot. Because of Rasta, he had no choice but to abandon that idea. Wendell retrieved the items, an electric hedge trimmer, a weed-whacker, and other semi-valuable tools, put them back in the shed, and went back indoors.

He gave Rasta a special treat as a reward, kept the shoe as evidence, and locked up. He also called the local police station to get a crime number and a promise that someone will follow up on it. Wendell knows that won't happen, which is sad but not unusual these days.

I overheard the commotion from the stairs and called out, "Wendell, who are you talking to?" "The cops," Wendell called back reassuringly, just another night prowler; don't worry, we're all locked up. Rasta and I are monitoring things. Go back to bed; try not to wake the kids up." "OK, if you say so Harry I yelled back", "I do," Wendell replied, returning to his desk after finally making himself a drink.

His speech, which he, in reality,he planned to present the next day, if he gets any sleep, awaits him. Finally, at 02:30 a.m. Wendell, having finished writing, is alongside me in bed, snoring in unison.

After a quick shower and hurriedly getting dressed, with a piece of burnt toast in his hand, Wendell made a hectic dash for the bus to Lewisford the following morning. He made for the Lewisford Town Hall, this time for real, where he has taken on the role of master of ceremonies. The kids and I planned to follow later by taxi.

Professor Grabinski's speech was the first and went much as Wendell imagined the previous evening. He invited the next person to speak and addressed the crowd, whose heads were rapidly swelling from all the solid information they had just received. "Next, Wendell said, I'd like to introduce Felicity Merryweather, who is the new head of climate control and research at the Real Real-World University. Felicity will tell us what's going on with the planet right now." As he called her name, Felicity rose from her seat and walked to the microphone.

She is a tall woman, standing at six feet, of a very slim build, with beautiful, long, shiny, straight black hair. She wore her gold with red synthetic stone jewellery, which included rings, bracelets, and necklaces, and a black catsuit with a red belt, red skyscraper high-heeled shoes, a scarf, hat, and bag, with shocking red lipstick finishing the look. Her walk is supermodel-like, and it's easy to imagine she's treading the boards at a high-end fashion show.

Her loyal black Scottish Terrier, which she refuses to go anywhere without, is accompanying her.

'Scottie' relieved himself on the microphone stand, to which she paid no attention.

The crowd, however, noticed with mixed reactions.

"I will try to be brief," her cool voice called through the microphone.

"Respectfully, ladies and gentlemen, I am appealing to you.

The Earth is in peril".

Thank you for such a flattering description, Wendell, Felicity announces. Not to be outdone Felicity, pleaded to Harry, "May I also be the one who recalls my speech for the public.

Yes of course, what a good idea, lets all tell our part in the story. Wendell replied with a flourish.

But who will tell about our telling ? who will narrate that bit?

The author, of course , said Mr Z.

Oh yeah, we forgot about him Xerxes erxes shouted as he was at the back of the room, laughing.

Without the author, there would be no story. Thalia says in agreement.

Who is this author? Do we know? Mrs Cronos asks.

"Anonymous". Mr Cronos answers. "I remember reading it somewhere. We are all just characters in a book, something already mapped our lives out and nobody knows the author of the book. We could even be characters in a book within a book to infinity".

"Wow, that's mind-blowing Mr Cronos. May I continue with my telling now ?".

"Yes dear, please do," Mr Cronos replies.

Felicity begins her rendition.

I allowed the audience to process what I had just stated before continuing.

You would visit a doctor or a hospital if you were sick. The Earth is no different. It requires our help. It needs to go to the emergency department immediately."

But no ambulances are available or willing to take them. Mother Earth should get treated with the same respect and care we wish for ourselves and our loved ones.

Isn't it true that the Earth is a beloved companion?

We can forgive our forefathers' ignorance, but today's folks have no such excuse.

Because of global warming, the world as we know it is ending.

As the ice sheets melt, the places where polar bears hibernate are becoming exposed leading to the loss of an apex predator in the Arctic, which will throw the ecosystem even more out of sync.

This is just one example of many scenarios being played out in animal habitats all around the world.

In addition, the seas and oceans are rising because of the melting of sea ice.

Many low-lying coastlines and islands are now submerged, with more to follow soon.

"Because of these things, parts of the planet have become unlivable, which has caused many people to leave their homes."

My intention was to bring a solemn recollection to the crowd, as they had long since fallen silent.

"Contrary to popular assumption, human birth rates are dropping due to low sperm counts; many people do not wish to bring children into the world because they realise the future for them is so bleak.

People have been living longer lives because of contemporary health care, resulting in an unhealthy population imbalance and the illusion of population growth." I let it all sink in.

"Floods, fires, and droughts caused by climate change, endless conflict, and global pandemics lead some elected governments to become vulnerable to tribal warlords who challenge them.

Areas of the planet have become inhospitable because of these issues. I could go on, but I am sure you have heard most of what I have said and what I could say a thousand times before, and I have no intention of preaching to the converted, but as your representative, in the RRWP I promise I will not rest until we have achieved our goal."

I finished and took a bow and walked back to my seat, with my little Scottie trotting along beside me.

The crowd burst into loud applause and stood in my honour. I was so proud, not for myself but for our party and the stand we are taking on behalf of the planet.

Smiling from ear to ear, I waved happily as Wendell returned to the podium.

"There you have it, folks he said ; the situation is dire. They have invited other speakers to follow my discourse, which I will present now," he informed the crowd, as he flipped through a small jotter.

Wendell came forward to take his turn at the impromptu storytelling, and recalling his own speech at the convention.

"As I remember, it went like this. "A best friend and colleague once said to me, 'Wendell, never whine and complain about conditions if you are not prepared to do something about them. Well, I have done more than my share of whining and complaining; now I am ready to act."

I paused before continuing.

"Earlier this year, I regretfully left the Real-world party because I felt it did not go far enough in its efforts to save the planet.

Fake members had infiltrated the party and gotten into prominent leadership positions, whose mission was to water down our policies and beliefs," my youthful voice filled with so much passion.

"I founded The Real-Real-World Party to fight bad Earth management practices.

If elected, I would not run the country but work with others to manage it.

I would hold a referendum to eliminate governments and democracies.

In their place, I would create a non-profit organizational structure dedicated to putting the planet's health first.

One that has nothing to do with political parties, as they serve humanity, they are no longer relevant.

The planet would now take precedence.

What good is human existence and well-being if there is no safe place to live?

Let me make it quite clear.

Unlike the other candidates for the upcoming election.

I would work in the interests of the Earth itself, not humanity," he announced.

"According to the Real-Real-World Party, we should not consider Earth's resources limitless.

We argue we must prevent humankind from engaging in destructive global practices.

We would consider the damage done to the planet the same as that done to a fellow human being."

I continued, "and the same ramifications would apply to environmental vandalism as to other criminal conduct if the real-real-world party gets elected.

For example, mountain climbers on vacation and their so-called professional guides are currently polluting Mount Everest, an international treasure with trash and dung to make money and impress their peers.

Mount Everest, as they renamed it in 1865, belongs to everyone; it does not even belong to the magnificent Sherpas who carry, care for and guide mountaineers.

Chomolungma, or Sagarmatha as it was previously known, does not need to be climbed, nor does it need a tourist hotel, it needs to be left alone and treated with the respect that the meaning of those names implies".

"The Real, Real-World Party sees nature's clear return and rehabilitation after The Great Lockdown of 2022 as a missed opportunity and an example of how quickly the planet can recover if given a chance.

Unfortunately, ignorance reigns supreme, and after being released from lockdown, people are eager to return to destroy the Earth as soon as possible.

The great reset, inspired by the return of nature and the planet's ability to repair itself in such a short time, was a notion about embracing the chance to change how we would conduct things after the lockdown.

Sadly and unsurprisingly, this opportunity was lost and quickly forgotten."

He said firmly.

"Everyone was quickly pushed back to the beer-swilling, over-consumptive lifestyle to which they had grown accustomed before the 'Great Lockdown' of 2020, believing they had wasted enough time and had profits to make.

Politicians who wanted to save their jobs did everything to soothe the mob.

I now agree with those who argue that the 'democracy' mobs should not have a say in the world's running because it is the democratic system that has resulted in current environmental disasters.

The ability of oligarchs to exploit the democratic system is a serious problem.

Oligarchs use their financial influence to pressure governments into taking up environmentally destructive policies."

"Ethical scientists, advised by managerial executives and even artificial intelligence, not politicians, should decide on Earth policies,

Many people on Earth seem unaware that they are also living in space.

Nobody would ever challenge scientists about safety on the moon because they know they have no choice but to follow the best practice; otherwise, astronauts would not survive.

Why is the planet Earth any different from the Moon or Mars?

"Politicians eventually looked to science during the global lockdown of 2020 to defend humanity from pandemics.

Rather than being pressured by shareholders to think about the economy, my party would listen to independent scientists' recommendations to determine what is best for Earth and its astronauts because we live in the real world, not a fantasy about how much wealth we have and can accumulate in our lifetime.

I must mention that this does not apply to paid scientists who work for big businesses and have no morals. "You know who you are," he snarled.

Mr Marcus Banishit,the famous economist and self-made billionaire, will be my next guest speaker, I said. He has walked away from all that because he does not want to be linked with the destructive forces currently in power. So instead, he has donated it all to the Real-Real-World Party, which, of course, must still live in the world as it is, not as we would like it to be, and where money is still the oil that keeps the wheels turning for the time being. He will, of course, be our Chancellor of the Exchequer for as long as we still need one. Ladies and gentlemen, I present Mr Marcus Banishit." I finished.

A mysterious unknown lady stood up. "I was present although at the conference and although do not know him personally, I am best friends with someone who does.

As Marcus is not here today, I am sure he will not mind my giving his account of that special day. The audience applauded and gave Wendell a standing ovation. They also cheered loudly when Marcus stood up and walked forward because they knew of all the good things he had done for others. Marcus took the microphone.

He said, "If appointed to head Wendell's financial administration, my goal would be to eliminate the concept of money. Money is at the foundation of all of our issues. I'd phase it out gradually. Governments must collaborate and share their talents and information to create real-world solutions. We can have a positive impact on money culture."

Marcus is your typical business executive if there is such a thing.Wearing his business suit and carrying his briefcase to the microphone, he places it beside him on the floor between his feet, as if guarding its valuable contents. Inside there is a spare clean white shirt still in its wrapper, socks, sexy underwear, a few current and expired aeroplane tickets, and various documents. Several passports, which denote his multiple citizenships; a half-eaten egg and lettuce sandwich; exotic condoms; and the usual toiletries.

He is getting fat, which is a shame because he used to have a substantial body and was known to many badminton courts and gyms all over the world. He now requires braces to hold his trousers up, as their waistline can only be above or below his growing midriff, so a belt is no longer used. His six-foot, four-frame, full head of gold hair and steel-blue eyes still help him get the attention of the many beautiful women he meets on his travels. These trips often end up in a hotel bedroom at some stage, where he and the women talk about the stresses and strains of being an executive as they meet out to comfort each other.

This trip was no exception. He took a taxi from the airport hotel to Lewisford after kissing an Italian heiress he met at the hotel's casino goodbye in the morning. He tried to hide the smile he was sporting now as he noticed the long red hair on his suit. It triggered a mental replay of the previous night's events. I tempted him to revisit her this morning, but he knew he wouldn't make it to the conference if he did that.

Shaking off the memory, he cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak. He speaks to the crowd with no hint of an accent of any kind in his voice. Inherited from a life of globetrotting on business despite the formality of the situation, he realizes a gorgeous strawberry blonde he believes is admiring him. She blushes as he looks down at her, giving her a wry smile. Marcus is a shameless flirt and an incorrigible seducer of women.

He begins, "Rather than our drive for money, I'd rather be a person who guides workplace relationships with honesty and devotion. I want to transform how everyone interacts with one another and the entire culture of the planet to place more value on people than on wealth.

Some people who write about society argue that we divide our society into three parts: private, voluntary, and public. Money, power, and renown are the extrinsic motives of the private sector. Compassion, knowledge, and other intrinsic impulses are examples of intrinsic voluntary motives." Marcus timed his speech perfectly, taking a moment to scan the crowd and judge their reaction. He also took a moment to take in the reaction of the strawberry blonde, ensuring she was still there. "The government represents the public by acting as a check and balance between the two," he said.

"Removing money would eliminate the private sector, which currently handles the deconstruction of our world. The private sector is the driving force behind Earth's destruction. They are a few self-interested people, the one per cent. In turn, they deny their children and other people a future by taking away their right to a good life. They want to colonise Mars and other worlds because they believe their wealth will provide them with a Plan B, such as a spot on a fantasy Noah's Ark. They want their genes to escape the inevitable destruction of Earth."

"They have the same fantastical ideas as people in the nineteen fifties when the wealthy built underground fallout shelters and stocked them with essentials, believing that they and their offspring could survive after a nuclear winter. They had scanty or no consideration for the welfare of others. They have no conscience about the mess they will leave behind. We still have a functioning public sector, but it is becoming engulfed by big corporations. Monetization of the not-for-profit sector has occurred right under our noses. Money is the cornerstone of our existence, and we have assigned value to everything. We've become operantly conditioned and extrinsically motivated by money." "We've virtually lost touch with intrinsic motivation; money has robbed us of our desire to do things for sheer fun.

According to science, children have a natural sense of giving, caring, and accomplishing without being rewarded. This sense is lost later in life when they learn to place a price tag on it. They believe that happiness should extend to animals as well. Many of our children's minds are conditioned from birth to separate their emotions and not associate the lamb and the farmer with the meat in the butcher's window. Intrinsic values do not return after the price tag is removed, and we have completely lost the incentive to care and do something for the sake of love."

"Most of us have likely lost that motivation and need to retrain ourselves. Money, power, and renown are all extrinsic factors. Healing, forgiveness, and compassion are on the intrinsic end of the spectrum. Fun, learning, and meaning are all found somewhere in the middle. There is too much emphasis on the extrinsic right now. Let's change that. I say people respond to generosity with even more generosity. I believe that humanity still has these beautiful inherent qualities and that what we do for love is greater than what we do for money.

People who try to make a difference or make a change are now brought to heel or brought into the fold by the elite because they pose a threat to their luxurious lifestyle. They assimilate them, encouraging them to sell out by offering knighthoods, O.B.E.s, and other manufactured means to keep their unsustainable, illusionary society alive. Unfortunately, many succumb, but if they do not, the media ridicule and silence them, causing them to lose their voice and, sometimes, eliminating them in other ways. Few people dare stand firm in their convictions. Citizens are less angry now that propaganda has done its job."

The public reveres the oligarchic superstars in sports, social media, and the internet. Rather than desiring to end the calamity caused by over-consumers, a high percentage of the population would welcome the opportunity to join them. They envy and admire them and do not dislike or oppose them.

Humans have created a crazy situation that

Only a well-coordinated, competent world government that has the needs and interests of the planet in mind instead of its own can fix it. Unfortunately, if one were to appear, it would not fare well. Rather than giving up their toys, humanity would engage in "all-out nuclear war" and destroy everything.

Because they have old grievances, opposing ideologies, and a plethora of political parties, religions, and philosophies, nations will never voluntarily agree on anything in time to save the planet. Therefore, they must be made to conform.

Countless well-wishers and mediators have tried and failed, only for the same thing to happen elsewhere. Either humanity must stop its harmful behaviour or it will perish. When I say that the elite know what they're doing is wrong, as a reformed capitalist, I speak from personal experience. They'd rather leave Earth at what they consider the last minute before it's completely dead than live a simpler life, consume less, or solve problems.

Those with enough money are investing in a so-called escape route, a Plan B, for the elite and their progeny when the inevitable occurs. The opposition candidate supports government integration and partnerships with business moguls as part of the Neo Capitalist Revolution. Billionaire elites are trying to get involved in global governance, and vice versa, to combine business and government into a single entity. If they have their way, they will run the entire globe and beyond as one large business.

When corporate leaders get elected to political posts, they feel entitled because they believe they are the only ones qualified to lead. They believe this since they have already shown their capability in business. They've used this argument to convince a sizable portion of the population that they're right. They're gaining popularity by promising to solve the world's problems in the same way.

Some of these 'would-be' leaders' practices are evocative of Neo-Malthusian and Nazi techniques, as well as Stalinist and totalitarian dictatorial regimes like Pol Pot's. They want to revert back to eugenics and population control. They say that this will cut down on the number of people who are bad for the economy, like criminals, drug addicts, the elderly, the sick, and dying. These people put too much stress on all government systems.

"One of the best-known of these newly formed parties is the Zooperiocrazy party. Mr Z., the organization's enigmatic head, is a dangerous megalomaniac who currently represents the ruling party. Mr Z., as he prefers to be called, is a charismatic leader with an illusory belief in himself. If he gets elected, he states his government of elites will get rid of democracy and replace it with an alternate system based on Plato's Republic and his criticisms of democracy.

Although Mr Z's proposed solutions may leave much to be desired, it is difficult for Wendell not to agree with him on many points. For example, when he quotes Plato as saying "they shouldn't let the public decide on significant things " and that democracy needs to be abolished and replaced with an elitist government.

This time, the applause was not as loud, given that the audience was becoming mentally saturated.

"We'll take a break before reconvening to hear from more speakers interested in joining the Real, Real-world party," Wendell announced.

During the break, Marcus headed straight for the strawberry blonde.

"Your eyes and hair stand out in a crowd of boring colours," Marcus said as he stopped by the blonde. She turned to him sharply as her friends giggled and left them to themselves.

"And I am reminded why people say you have a tongue coated in syrup," she replied with a small smile, secretly slipping her wedding ring off her finger and into her clutch bag.

"Marcus Banishit," he said as he presented his well-manicured hand. "Joanne Jones," she replied, holding her hand in his and watching as he brought it to his lips for a kiss. "Enchante Mademoiselle," he said. She rolled her eyes at him. Her face was hot as he looked at her. I couldn't believe how fast he was. Even though his reputation preceded him.

He took her by the hand and said, "Come, let me show you some things I saw," observing the pale skin tone where a wedding ring had once been, a sure sign of her intentions leading her away. They made it to the part of the hall that doubled as a display gallery.

Speaking at length, laughing at the most insignificant of things. He knew all she saw and heard dazzled her. That was a tactic of his. "You are a man among men," she had said to him, as they stood beside one particularly rare artefact.

"I am, and I think you are a woman among women," he sighed. With a smile, he turned to her. "And this man among men is about to kiss you right now," he said before he swooped forward, pulling her into him with a ferocious kiss. She was melting before she knew it, clutching him with a moan of her own. "Come to my hotel room tonight, have the champagne and I will wait," he said, giving her a card with the address on it. "Yes, I will," she replied. "It's room 101, but don't bring any Dalmatians," he joked. When they realized they had lost track of time, they hurried back to the break room. They looked slightly flustered and tried to make their clothes look as normal as possible.

They entered the room separately and pretended they hadn't even noticed each other's presence. But they didn't fool anyone, especially not her friends, who were eager to find out what had happened between them. Wendell then brought out the next speaker. "Ladies and gentlemen, Mr B.S. Mostley, the director of the Universal Palace of Spiritual Gatherings in the United States of America, has arrived." Wendell takes a seat, the Reverend B.S. takes the microphone. There is a small round of standard applause. The Reverend was well rested because he had been staying with a friend in a London mansion near Hyde Park. His friend also insisted he take his stretch limousine to the lecture because he had to bring all of his "wifelets," as he called them along. The reverend is no longer with us as he took the Brahman journey after death, which came naturally shortly after the conference. But his chief wife, now widowed, been elected by the other members to give her an account as she remembers it.

In her most reverent voice, she said, "He began like this.".

" I am interested in joining your organisation."

Mr B.S.whose full name was Bullard Shitely, was completely bald from various x-ray treatments he had which he believed cured cancers that had not been diagnosed yet. Most doctors say it was a miracle he lived so long. Grey-eyed, and and somewhat wrinkled due to his great age. Despite being a hundred and 12 yrs old his mind and other facets of his being were in perfect working order, she says, because of his healthy lifestyle and consummating his multiple marriages regularly. Adhering to the 'use it or lose it philosophy'

In keeping with his persona as a spiritual leader, he dressed accordingly in a cape, gown, and cap, pointed curled-up slippers with mystical symbols embroidered on them, and a dark blue velvet suit with a matching cravat over his white silk shirt. Large crystals or diamonds are in his cravat stud, and gold bracelets, chains, and rings, of which he has many, adorn him.

Two assistants, who double as wives or vice versa, hold the tails of his cape and gown from touching the floor and getting dirty, which is fortunate because otherwise, they would be absorbing the puddles of dog urine that were present at his feet.

He was , very frail, and barely able to stand, so two more of his assistant wives brought his throne-like personal travelling chair to the microphone.

Understandably, he gave his speech sitting down.

The wifelets sat on the floor at his feet, looking up at him adoringly.

One accidentally puts her hand in the dog's urine, and yet another wifely assistant appeared from behind the stage with tissues.

"I believe yours is the most forward-thinking organisation I have ever encountered he said into a microphone that was positioned in his clothing, aside from the Universal Palace of Spiritual Gatherings, which I created 60 years ago

I'd be honoured to merge organizations, so I've come here to lie out our values, and if you find them compatible with ours, we can work together. I will assist you in whatever way I am able."

"Because we are a global organisation with millions of followers, I believe we can help one another, so I will summarise our opinions, which I think are like yours. We reject all religions because we believe they are obsolete, like politics and royal dynasties. Let's say you think of the soul as something else, like the scientific reflection of your uniqueness in subatomic particles while you are a human or something else. In that case, the theology of the soul seems to be on firm ground,"

"According to religious beliefs, a soul is a product of evolution.

Because they shared beliefs, stuck together as a group, Hominids had other traits that helped them survive and have children.

I too think that democracy, like royalty and many other things that people tried out, has served its purpose in our evolution.

Some call my thinking a panpsychist view.

I refer to a soul that lives in all four realms: vegetative, animal, mineral, and human.

It's a soul in the sense that it's the spirit of the universe, not the immaterial essence that lives in each person's brain and has only just developed in people."

Some people reject the idea of soul transmigration.

We wholeheartedly support it.

According to atheists, what is not perceivable does not exist; for them, existence causes permeability.

Every day, however, the soul or awareness becomes more discernible.

Quantum biology is at the forefront of this.

So, let's look at the most basic questions that everyone has.

I'm fine with it being a question-and-answer session.

He said this, drawing the crowd in on his presentation.

"What happens when you die?"

A person from the front row asks, raising his hand.

"Let me answer that with another question, one that I can answer." The Reverend says.

"What happens to your body after you die?"

He shot back.

"There are two stages, according to my autopsy days.

The first step is clinical death.

It can take up to six minutes for a person to stop breathing and for the heart to stop pumping blood.

The organs haven't died yet.

If there is enough oxygen in the brain and no irreversible damage has occurred, an individual can be resuscitated.

This is how many near-death experiences have occurred.

The second stage of biological death happens when the body's organs shut down, and cells deteriorate.

Muscles relax because of biological death, allowing the bladder and bowels to empty.

The body stiffens as rigour mortise develops.

Most of the time, doctors can stop this from happening by lowering the body's temperature below normal. This lets them bring patients back to life before they get brain damage."

He finished with a flourish.

"Is there a heaven?" another person asked.

"If so, where?"

He continued.

"Nobody knows,"

The Reverend answered.

"If it exists, it's up there, just as they say, but it's beyond our comprehension,

Beyond the visible.

Some say that heaven and hell are inventions of hominids."

He added,

"but then, so is everything, according to others."

"What happens to my soul?" someone else called out.

"According to my research into the soul or consciousness, science claims that ideas can last up to three minutes after the heart has stopped beating. The soul's connection to the body is via microtubules in the hypothalamus, which transfers the soul or consciousness into the cell's nucleus.

The cell is a part of the body; the cell loses contact with the soul because it is dead. Only the cells are no longer alive.

The soul, often known as consciousness, is still present and can remain on Earth for a while.

Our awareness is what we consider to be the soul, and we believe that it eventually returns to the universe unscathed.

It is only the connection between the cells of the body and the soul that breaks down. "The soul, or consciousness, is unaffected and waits patiently in the universe until the Karmic Computer of Life chooses a suitable physical body." The Reverend answered calmly.

"What happens to your thoughts after you die?" someone from the gallery asked.

"We don't know," he responded.

"Is there life after death?" the questioning continued.

"We believe so, but not as most perceive it."

The Reverend added.

Then, someone finally asked,

"Should I follow a religion?"

The Reverend smiled as he leaned back into his chair.

"Wow, that's a big one; I hope I have time to answer it."

He hummed.

"People are typically born into faiths. Buddha advised one should follow the one you are born into, but if you must follow another,

choose one and do research to determine which one is right for you.

Some people say that religion is a trick set up by smart guys who want to take advantage of other people.

This has happened, especially in religious-based cults where the leaders' actual goals are too corrupt innocent people and use them for money or sexual abuse.

Scientists also thought that the soul, or consciousness, could be explained in natural terms as a by-product of having a healthy body, and that consciousness would go away when the body died.

They claim that the physical body is the only thing that exists, contending that the concepts of the soul, God, heaven, and hell, among others, are not actual experiences.

Most scientists reject these claims, ", he began.

"Many faiths have no scientific explanation for what happens after death.

Christians, Muslims, and people of other faiths all hold distinct beliefs.

For example, Christians believe spirits can communicate with each other." He shrugged, raising his hands weakly.

"Judaism places little value on the idea of an afterlife.

Instead, it places a greater emphasis on life's actions.

The Torah mentions Sheol, a shadowy place in the earth's core where all souls go without being judged.

Reincarnation and rebirth are mostly eastern ideas that are at the heart of Hinduism, Jainism, and Buddhism, the three major religions of the east.

Some argue that the original Catholic and Christian teachings talked of reincarnation in the same way as Hinduism.

Buddhism places more emphasis on the rebirth of consciousness, while Jainism and Hinduism emphasize the reincarnation of the soul or Atman.

The philosophy of Buddhism rejects the existence of a soul or.

"According to Buddhist texts, no permanent self exists from one life to another.

Instead, it is the consciousness that gets transferred at the end of one's life, much like the Olympic flame.

Although Buddhism seems to have a different flavour in various countries, the core beliefs are the same.

I believe as in Buddhism we all share a simple goal, the universal goal of all beings and entities, to enjoy pleasures and avoid pain.

Rather than hoping for future pleasures, one should seek the pleasures of the present.

If there are no further questions, I shall conclude my sharing session with you all. I am tired, he finished, already worn out.

Amid rapturous applause. The Reverend bowed his head and placed his hands together in an internationally recognised praying motion known to convey respect, and was carried to the back row by his adoring assistants in his seat, that had four strong brass carrying handles.

Wendell stepped in and thanked the Reverend for his contribution, noticing that he did not respond. It was only later, when we tried to get him into the limo, that we realised he was deceased. We thought he was taking a nap.

Wendell again addressed the audience. Before returning to his seat, he announced,

"We don't want to leave out our relatives, the other creatures with whom we share this planet out, and we should serve and care for. To address that.

Ms Cynthia Allgood will be my next speaker.

She will speak for the world of animals, plants, and minerals."

Cynthia comes forward to speak on her own behalf. By now, this has become accepted, and she does so without hesitation.

Back then, I was a middle-aged woman with greying curly hair. Now as you see I am a gorgeous young 25 yr old thanks to Xenon's TOTS procedure.

I dressed in dull, earthy-coloured clothes that were handwoven ,textured from the Scottish Isles.

Brown brogue shoes and a large carpet handbag accompanied my suit, hat, and scarf.

I, too, have my dog with me, but I required it as a guide dog because, although I had some vision, I was legally blind.

I took a shaky step toward the mic, and to my surprise, despite looking and feeling like a frail old lady, I seemed to assume a powerful presence.

My yellow Labrador, I'm told, sniffed the urine puddle by the microphone, snorted, and walked around it, nudging me to make sure I didn't step in it. I am no longer blind because my condition occurs when I reach 45 yrs old, so I always organise a body transfer before I reach that age. I lived locally and came in my new electric Honda driverless car,

Raising my hands in greeting."Good people," I said , "I am a marine biologist. My wife, who is a cognitive neuroscience technician, and a colleague, is an evolutionary biologist. Together we are researching the brain, and at that, not just the human brain.

We find new genes, brain structures, and other physical links to emotions.

Emotions like empathy, hate, and delight.

We're looking for physical manifestations of the emotions that lead to moral awareness.

Descartes divided the world's species into two groups: humans and non-humans.

This separatist point of view, which is short-sighted and wrong and has hurt both animals and humans, is still widely accepted.

Because of this view, neonates were still being operated on without anaesthesia as recently as 1986."

"Descartes rejected the existence of a soul or consciousness in animals and other living things with one or more cells.

We should change our view to include all animals and even robots with artificial intelligence. A soul-like quality can be found in all living things, possibly inanimate objects.

"As a nation, we believed that crabs and lobsters had no feelings, and we believe that plunging them alive into boiling water is acceptable. Thus, human babies got grouped in with them.

When it comes to emotions and thought processes, we once believed that only humans possessed them.

The Real-Real-World party is now urging its supporters to stop eating other living things and start consuming the more widely accessible nutritional substitutes as they become available.

As humans colonize space, more environmentally friendly manufacturing processes will be needed.

If we have the courage of our convictions, we must adhere to scientific principles and put them into practice.

We must not inflict any further intentional harm on any living being. It won't be easy, but science says we can do it.

The Real, Real-World party will lean toward achieving this goal

Leonardo da Vinci predicted that in the future, everyone would adopt a vegetarian diet.

I hope we will go beyond that, and even beyond vegan, if that ever becomes possible.

Buddhism and Jainism have long recognized the rights of other life forms to exist and asked us not to harm them if we could avoid it, saying that bad karma would be the result. This is because everyday discoveries lead to the conclusion that even plants have the potential to be recognized as beings.

There is no room for intentional harm in our organisation.

This includes any form of abuse under the guise of sports, leisure, and recreation".

She finishes.

"Wendell, save me before I'm ripped apart by carnivores"

I said jokingly as I made to leave while the crowd went crazy with applause.

Wendell took the microphone and chuckled.

"I don't think so,"

He said. There is a standing ovation for you.

Please come back and receive it."

I nervously returned to the microphone the finest day of my career.

After a few curtsies, Wendell signalled for the lights and curtain to close. When he returned to his family. They greeted him and praised him just as he imagined in his daydream.

He beamed with pride as we all did, not for himself, but because our party is gaining momentum and recognition internationally.

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