Take a Breath
"My father told me a story once. The idea was that a blight would wipe out every crop on Earth, leaving us to starve to death. Oh, and that those who didn't starve would suffocate due to excess nitrogen entering the atmosphere as a result."
"Sounds quite grim."
"Trust me, the story wasn't that good. But it does make me wonder…" Murph sighed, laughing bitterly. "What if that story had been about tiberium instead? What if dad was still alive? Then he'd get to see us starve, suffocate, kill each other, and be invaded by aliens."
Gabriella Bordereau didn't respond this time. And Murph couldn't blame her. Because in the year 2061, as mankind's last days played out, jokes that hit too close to reality were rarely welcome.
"We tried, you know," Bordereau said as she sipped her water, her old eyes weary with sorrow. "We really did."
"Yeah," Murph said, raising her own glass as if it was wine, a luxury that hadn't been available in decades. "Here's to our failures."
Failures. Glancing out the window of the observation site towards the Threshold tower, Murph reflected that if there was a single testament to mankind's failure to save itself and the world it lived on, this was it. GDI had defeated Nod, warlords, even thwarted an alien invasion. Now she was located on what was once considered the most dangerous place on Earth, a combination of the toxic environment of a red zone, and Nod fanatics demanding that GDI stay clear of their "holy temple." Now, the landscape that was once Italy was identical to the landscape covering 98% percent of the planet. Without realizing it, mankind had been at war with an invading force since 1995. And that war had come to an end.
She looked at Bordereau, her hair white, her gaze downwards. Once mankind had numbered in the billions, now, around a million, squeezed together in the 2% of the world that was still habitable. It was rare to see people like Bordereau, people who had seen an entire world succumb to what could only be described as poison. Murph had grown up on a farm when blight was a real issue. When any problem tiberium presented was something that other people dealt with. A scientific curiosity that scientists would solve.
Or try to solve, she reflected bitterly, drinking her own water. A luxury right there. She knew that her old farm home likely didn't even exist anymore. Covered in tiberium, burnt to the ground, used as a hovel for the Forgotten…even London, GDI's capital, was overrun with the green crystal, with people unable to operate at ground level. A wooden shack would have no chance in hell.
"You think it'll be a good way to go?" Bordereau asked. "Suffocation, I mean."
Murph remained silent.
"I mean, the problem with tiberium is that it's consumed so much plant life, and leeched so much of the world's oxygen with it, is that there just won't be enough to sustain any carbon-based life. After all-"
"Yes Gabriella, I know the process of photosynthesis," Murph snapped. The scientist looked at her. "Sorry, I'm just…" She gestured out towards the window. Towards Threshold 19. "Well, y'know what? I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry for every scrin bastard that had to die to ruin this world. I'm not sorry for every Noddie psychopath who thought this world would be something to aspire to." She slammed the glass down on the table. "And I'm not sorry that my family's dead, and that I'm living in the last days of Earth, and there's nothing I can fucking do about it!"
She started breathing heavily. Gabriella remained seated there. She'd at least had the benefit of a long dead husband, Murph reflected. Better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all, as the saying went.
But, she reflected as she finished the water, all the platitudes in the world couldn't change reality.
And activating the hologram on the table, looking at the day's data as scientists desperately examined Threshold to find anything that could save Earth, she reflected that all in the world couldn't make a difference either.
Murphy's Law. She'd hated her father for giving her that name.
Because everything over the last sixty plus years that could have gone wrong…had gone wrong.
She was just one of the few to live long enough to see it.
