The God Mars Book Two: Lost Worlds by Michael Rizzo Page B

programs were de-funded
and defunct by the end of the ‘60s. Several countries completely
collapsed into near-anarchy, only to revive years later with new
governments and sometimes new names. The so-called superpowers
suffered infrastructure catastrophes as food, energy, housing and
medicine were impacted by the economic fallout of the decapitation
of the chief corporate powers. Unemployment exceeded all other depressions and recessions in history, and urban centers
devolved into no-man’s lands while unsustainable suburbia went up
in flames. And in the darkness, people turned back to God in
unprecedented numbers.
    “It looks like the Islamic Fundamentalists got in bed
with the Bronze-Age Christian Ultra-Right,” Matthew quips as he’s
reviewing the reports. “Fucking Amish-Taliban Disneyland…”
    Entire communities shunned all but the most basic
tech, vilified consumerism, and turned to farming. Even those lucky
enough to still have high tech corporate jobs started shunning them
with the support of their communities, further crippling industry,
and universities were forced to close career programs in certain
sciences.
    It became a popular sell among the most vocal new
spiritual leaders to try to convince the people that the Mars
disaster was punishment for their personal sins. As Richards had
said, once they got done with the corporations and the governments,
they could only blame themselves in the cycle of supply and
demand.
    But also like Richards had said, it wasn’t all that
extreme, and did have its global benefits. Many political and
economic movements took up the Eco cause, popular demand now
driving a multinational effort to develop “green” technologies and
clean energy, to restore the environment and to take care of each
other. (Just considering that since emigration to other planets was
no longer a practical or acceptable future, humans would now have
to make the best of home.) The downside was that many governments
took a strong religious theme in returning to “what’s important.”
The unexpected upside was that they were remarkably tolerant about
it—though majority monotheist, the ancient differences were mostly
set aside in favor of embracing tolerance for “all God’s creation.”
Or as Matthew put it, even the radical Muslims were bedding down
with the fundamentalist Christians and Jews.
    Wars had gotten few, and were usually ameliorated
with a global in-pouring of resources—not much to fight over if
everybody has enough (and gets very publicly shamed about the
sinfulness of wanting more).
    As for technology, they had progressed—as Richards
put it—“thoughtfully.” They had willingly sacrificed the miraculous
benefits of medical nanotech for a shorter, more mortal
existence—quality over quantity—taking their time in developing
other means, other cures. And without the military or consumer
demands that often drove technology to evolve exponentially, what
was “cutting edge” back home does not seem so many years ahead of
what we had before we all went to sleep.
    (Though this isn’t a universal standard: Anton is
quick to point out that the Lancer’s technology appears to be more
advanced than the current Earth standard, and that means someone is
playing with science that would probably incur the ire of
UNCORT.)
    But what strikes me as most stunning: All during this
incredible evolution of humanity, the planet seemed to have managed
to almost completely forget about us.
     
    When Richards comes through at 13:05, he looks like
he hasn’t slept since the last time he spoke to us.
    “We have reviewed your latest reports, Colonel,” he
begins like he’s spent two days under live fire. “There is a lot of
concern—I can understand your reluctance to send us this
intelligence, despite your obligation to duty… This does change
things, I’m afraid to say. We’ve kept this classified, of course…
But the UNCORT membership is up in arms, and the UNMAC military
leadership has