Pinko Commie Superbunker, Part 2/7

"Kinda like a commie version of Elysium..."

Don’t worry! There’s no long intro! Yeah, you were getting worried there for a second weren’t you? Go on, admit it. You were getting worried.

Well, you are now about to read Part 2 of 7 of this amusing comedy sci-fi movie, starring Unofficial Katy & a few of her new friends. If you missed the first part, then you should click there.

In this continuation of Act I, we get to find out how mischievous socialist extraterrestrials design superbunkers for rich capitalists.

That’s it! That’s the intro! Relieved? You soon won’t be.

Enjoy.

Oh - after some classic cinema adverts. This one has the Indian restaurant in it. I shall continue my quest for the Chinese takeaway and get back to you on that one.

[Obviously you really don’t need to watch this frivolous nostalgia if you don’t want to. But it is fun.]

---

Cali summoned Nathan into his study for a little chat.

“She’s sleeping right now,” he began, “so we shouldn’t need to worry about telepathic prying.”

“What was it you wanted to see me for, Sir?”

“I’d like you to stay close to our guest.”

“You think she’s up to something?”

“Of course she’s up to something. She’s a feline. And felines are mischievous. And she’s got opposable digits.”

“We’re doomed.”

“There’s also the fact that her species does time travel. Meaning they know every decision that’s going to be made. Hers and ours.”

“I can see how that might put us at a disadvantage.”

“Quite. However, I have thought of a way around that. Parallel worlds.”

“Oh?”

“If a different decision happens, then the timeline changes.”

“Hmm. I’m sure there’s a logical flaw in that somewhere.”

“Not necessarily. See I’ve read all her books, and there’s an obscure story in which she suggests she’ll be in prison when Event Day happens. And I happen to know from one of my Senators that the new British Government are minded to arrest her.”

“What for?”

“Blasphemy and sedition. From their point of view, she’s a dissident. They’re embarking on a crackdown.”

“From the United States’ point of view too, I’d wager.”

“Also true. So, that gives us leverage, if you catch my drift.”

“I believe I can see where you’re going with that one, Sir.”

“You don’t need to do deference anymore, Nathan. Get this right, and you will definitely have a place in the bunker.”

“In that case, I’ll try and be extra nice to her.”

He shook his head. “Nah. That’s precisely what’ll make her suspicious. Think of something else.”

Nathan frowned. Then thought of something else.

---

“Dunbar’s number?”

“Sure. About 150, in your case. Do you know what Dunbar’s number is?”

Nathan tried not to look embarrassed. “I’ll Google it.”

“I wouldn’t use Google if I were you. It’s a CIA thing. Same as your planetary archive. Wikipedia you call it.”

Nathan chuckled sarcastically. “Ah, yeah, I forgot, you have a reputation for being something of a conspiracy theorist, don’t you?”

“According to your Wikipedia, lol. You Americans simply don’t have a sense of irony, do you? Which is ironic itself.”

“This is a British thing, then? Or is it an alien thing?”

“Clearly alien to you. No. It’s not any racial thing. It’s an emotional intelligence thing.”

Nathan frowned and did his best not to perceive an insult. He wasn’t particularly good at it, but on this occasion Katy’s manner wasn’t too penetrating. She was, as it happens, clearly in something of a light-hearted, playful mood. Nathan noticed this about her – although she was, it seemed to him, constantly making pointed comments, sometimes they appeared even affectionate, almost as if she liked him, secretly.

Albeit in a kind of fond, patronising way.

“Is this where we go all mismatched, abrasive but ultimately-liking-each-other buddy movie mode?”

“Hah! You Americans again. You see everything in terms of movies, eh?”

“I thought you said we humans do see things in terms of narratives?”

“Every social animal does. We’re no different.”

“I find that oddly reassuring.”

“Excellent. Don’t think we’ll be getting together in the superbunker at the end of this movie, though. I’m old enough to be your primal ancestor.”

“I can assure you it never even occurred to me.”

“Glad to hear it. So, why don’t you look it up in your planetary archive? Dunbar’s number, that is. Although look me up first, eh? I’m vain like that.”

Nathan decided to go along with it for the moment, smiled and raised his eyebrows cynically. He looked it up on his primitive, not-yet-quantum-teleportation communication device.

He read it aloud. “‘Katy Major (born 10 February 1973)’ -”

“Aquarius. Sagittarius ascendent.”

“Whatever. ‘- is a British speculative fiction writer and conspiracy theorist who believes she’s an extra-terrestrial from Sirius. Winner of several awards in the speculative fiction genre, her best known works include The Final Intervention (soon to be made into a movie) in which an extra-terrestrial species diverts the dwarf planet Ceres onto a collision course with Earth in order to annihilate humanity, which they perceive as a serious imperialist threat to the peaceful, multicultural Galactic Republic. Most critics judge this to be a thinly-disguised pro-Russian and anti-American allegory.’”

“See. Not very kind. An encyclopaedia should be unbiased, wouldn’t you say?”

“Sure. But you are a conspiracy theorist?”

“I’m a realist. Whoever wrote that knew perfectly well what the negative connotations of that term are. So that’s not unbiased. Use of language, you see.”

Nathan sighed, and decided not to pursue the subject. He looked up Dunbar’s number. “‘Suggested cognitive limit to the number of people with whom one can maintain social relationships – relationships in which an individual knows who each person is and how each person relates to every other person.’ Well, I suppose I can see how that relates to superbunker designs.”

“Obviously. Of course your archive really doesn’t do the concept justice. As an exopsychologist and, well, admittedly amateur psychohistorian I can absolutely confirm to you that it’s the most important number for any intelligent social species. In fact, tell me what that number is, and your tectonics map, and I’ll probably tell you all about your entire social history, and predict where it’ll end up.”

“With an extinction level asteroid strike?”

“Lol. Very funny. I’m not saying it’s foolproof, mind. As the size of your settlements increases and civilisation progresses along with it, non-structuralist elements always and increasingly intrude on that timeline until a predictive model is no longer of any value. Hence the need for intervention.”

“Like wiping out an entire species?”

“Oh ye of little faith! I don’t want to give you too many spoilers, Nathan darling, but why would we be even bothering with this superbunker malarkey if everyone was going to die?”

“Because you are a cruel and mischievous feline exo-species. That’s why.”

“That’s a fair point, Nathan. From your point of view, I can see how this looks. We’re the bad guys, eh?”

“Aren’t you? I mean, don’t get me wrong here, but you are genuinely intending to wipe us out with an asteroid, right?”

“I’m just the messenger. Don’t look at me!”

“Oh. So it’s a banality of evil thing, then, eh?”

Katy frowned imperiously at him.

“I bet,” Nathan found himself on a roll and pressed home the advantage, “you’ve got some supreme commander up there in some mothership munching on raw mice and other small furry mammals mewing orders at paw-soldiers. ‘Move that asteroid you pussy! No! Not that one! This one!’ So what’s your Prime Directive? Patronising primitive primates?’”

Katy had to laugh. “You, Nathan, are a very funny guy, do you know that? Have you ever thought of doing stand-up?”

“Actually my dad was a stand-up. That’s why I didn’t do it.”

“He must be very disappointed in you.”

“I wouldn’t know. Walked out on mom and me when I was in fourth grade.”

“My apologies.” She meant it sincerely, actually.

“You know,” Nathan noted, “I am a much deeper character than you might think.”

She smiled warmly at him. “Clearly. Which, believe it or not, is why I like you.”

---

“So, what are we looking at here?” Cali asked.

The three of them were leaning over the great, oval table on which Katy’s plans were displayed. It had a massive touchscreen embedded in the surface. Pretty snazzy. Nathan decided he wanted one.

Katy began her spiel, expertly drawing her fingers around to zoom in and out when required. “It’s important to design these things holistically, of course. With psychology in mind. Chances are we’ll have to stay down there for at least three years, maybe five.”

“But you’ve designed it to last at least ten?” Cali glanced across at her.

“Just in case, you know. Also for reassurance. Again, it’s a psychology thing. So, I’ve designed it like a village. And since you said money and logistics weren’t an object, it’s pretty big.”

“I can see. That’s gonna cost a bit. Still, not that I can’t afford it. Continue.”

“So, it’s designed to be as realistic, spacious and self-sufficient as possible. The top level begins around twenty metres below ground and descends a further hundred. Surface area of each of the twenty levels is 500 by 500, or a quarter of a million square metres. Multiply that by twenty then divide by 150 people and you get 33,333 square metres per person. So no getting on each other’s nerves, in other words.”

“I like that. Room for a golf course too, I see?”

“Combined with agroforestry. Those trees and bushes are fruit-bearing. And that’s a duck pond in the middle.”

“Hah!” Cali grinned, “Maybe I’ll play target the apple with a 5-iron! I like it! You should’ve been a course designer. There’s a lot of money in that.”

“I’ll pass, if it’s all the same. But the point is, nature is important to humans. Well, to any intelligent species, for that matter. So, these lower levels are dedicated to self-sufficient food production, as you can see.” She pointed. “This also gives people jobs to do. It’s important to keep active. A life of leisure is one thing, but boredom would soon set in.”

“I dunno about that.”

“You don’t get 150 billion without some hard work, do you?”

“Fair point. Continue.”

“So everyone will help muck in. The CO2 levels down there, naturally, are Cretaceous levels, around 1200 ppm. Higher crop yields. All organic, naturally. Important to have a healthy diet.”

“I agree completely. You’ve even got chickens there?”

“And space for some other domesticated animals. All this should provide around 15-20 Kg of food per square metre, on average. Which is more than enough for a village. Furthermore, it continually recycles the oxygen and the CO2 you breathe out. Water isn’t a problem because we just draw it up from the ground. Likewise, it’s all powered by geothermal.”

“There is a backup generator, though, right?”

“Of course. Four of them, in fact. So, the middle levels are for daily life, leisure, culture, learning and so on – see, there’s a library and a school.”

“School?”

“Sure. So now we come on to the selection procedure. Let’s say we have around thirty people like us. That’s to say, the slightly older and already educated. The remaining 120 are young families. So that’s thirty couples each with average two infants. Means they can be educated from scratch, in a holistic, Steiner-type way, instead of being forced into your current system.”

“Ah. Yes, I know how you feel about that.”

“It’s a conveyor belt for units of productivity. Quite. Well, the one we’ll do will be about re-populating the new world with a better class of people.”

“Are they all blonde and blue-eyed?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Nathan. They’d need to be as genetically varied as possible. For obvious reasons.”

“Yes,” Cali joined in, “don’t be ridiculous, Nathan. She’s making sense to me.”

Nathan frowned.

“Mind you,” Katy mused, “you may as well select people for looks and intelligence. Not to mention genetic health. And there’s nothing eugenicist about that. It’s just common sense.”

“There, see, Nathan? Nothing fascist going on here at all. Pray continue.”

“All of these ceilings and windows, of course, are essentially green screens, like in the movies. They’ll project a natural, day-night cycle and we’ll combine that with a thermostat according to the seasons. With somewhat random variation in the weather for good measure.”

“Will it rain too?” Nathan smirked.

“Yes, actually. It’s called a sprinkler system. You’ll need it for the agriculture aside from anything else. Swimming pool there too, see?” She moved the screen with her forefinger. “This mid-level here,” she did it again, “is a kind of shopping precinct. To replicate real life. So, alongside the groceries you’ve also got arts and crafts et cetera. Workshops. And yes, there are some bars and clubs and whatnot.”

“Cinema?”

“Of course. And a theatre and concert hall. Sports. Gym. Climbing wall. And, well, various other stuff. You can have a look at the brochure later. Anyhow, as for the private quarters, those are on the upper levels, with around thirty people per level, with communal green spaces. Hopefully they’ll all have pets, too. We’re not doing this without cats, for a start.”

“How did I know you were going to say that?”

Katy grinned. “Preserving other species is equally important. Animals, insects, fish, plants, and so on.”

“I agree completely,” Cali said, in all seriousness.

“Another important point,” Katy concluded, “is that this whole complex will need to be hermetically sealed for at least three to six months, preferably a year. We wouldn’t want to get flooded by two-mile-high tsunamis, would we?”

“Absolutely not. Well remembered. How about earthquakes?”

“Just don’t build it on a fault line.”

“Fair enough.”

“That’s a reason why it’s so huge for that number of people. No chance of running out of oxygen. Once the dust has settled we can start to ventilate. We’ll also have a range of reconstruction materials in storage, as well as machinery and solar panels and telecommunications masts. Internally, there will be a central AI computer and an intranet.”

“Like a mainframe?”

“I guess. But it will also contain an archive. Which, I have to point out here, will also double up as a time capsule, should everybody die. You know.”

“How very reassuring,” Nathan quipped.

“You know,” Cali said, “this all looks like a sort of pancake version of that generation ship book you wrote. With the toroidal habitat thing.”

“I’m surprised you like that one.”

“I thought it was ironic. Amusing. Kind of like a commie version of Elysium.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Katy smiled. She was surprised, to be honest. And, if you’d have asked her, ever so slightly alarmed at the thought that someone might work out exactly what her game was…

---

Next Episode next week!