Ssuk! O.F.F.

SSUK! O.F.F.

Sovereign State United Kingdom O.F.F.

Book #11 in The Occasion Mists Series

Setlu Vairst

Also in the Occasion Mists series:

Unicorn - Journey Beyond Forever #1

Danny and the Seagull Who Came Back... From The Dead! #2

Dragons of Terra Sphere - Part I - Deadly Sanctuary #3

Cobwebs of Pearl #4

Unicorn Sacrifices #5

The Little’s Voyage #6

Within the Heart of Time - Part I - Unknowing #7

Arthurian Time Crisis - Part I - Magician #8

Arthurian Time Crisis - Part II - Dragon #9

SSUK! O.F.F.

Copyright: Setlu Vairst

Published: 30th June 2016

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, transferred, reproduced, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the author, as allowed under the terms and conditions in which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by the applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

Version 1.0

Copyright © Setlu Vairst, 2016

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in this novel are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

The right of Setlu Vairst to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

1st Time as an eBook release

Find out more about the author and upcoming books online at http://www.setluvairst.com

or contact the author - [email protected]

~~~

© Setlu Vairst

Chapters

PART I - THE MAN

Prologue

1.01 - The March

1.02 - The England Experiment

1.03 - Council

PART II - THE OPERATION BEGINS

2.01 - Joe’s Journey No. 476

2.02 - CIA Agent Wells Undercover

2.03 - In the Years That Followed...

2.04 - Primed Minister

2.05 - Mrs Daisy Gendus Meets Prof A and Prof B

2.06 - Joe’s Journey No. 642

2.07 - H.M.S. Tinkerbell

2.08 - Classroom

2.09 - Missing Man

2.10 - The Man on the Run

2.11 - Power 2 and 3

2.12 - Beach Battle

2.13 - Freeing the Fish

Artwork

About the Author

Author’s Notes

Thank You

Dedication

Other Stories in this Series

Unicorn - Journey Beyond Forever

Danny and the Seagull Who Came Back... From The Dead!

Dragons of Terra Sphere

Cobwebs of Pearl

Unicorn Sacrifices

The Little’s Voyage

Within The Heart Of Time - Part I

Arthurian Time Crisis - Part I - Magician

The Occasion Mists - Final Hint - Part I

PART I - THE MAN

Prologue

The sound of the gentle lapping of the waves a few feet in front of him brought about a calmness around him that he had not felt as he had travelled to this place.

The moon was low, just above the dark tree-line on the opposite side of the lake. A few uninterested clouds gently brushed against the deep blue of the night sky, enhancing the hundreds of jewels that he could see dancing in the night.

He listened for the sound of an owl or of any other creature that may tell him that he was not alone, that he was not going to be the only witness to the forthcoming event. He heard no sounds save the gently lapping waters.

A cloud slowly approached the moon, encroaching upon it and then, as if it were a cue, the man stooped down and struggled to pick up the huge rock that had lain by his feet. Half of it was slippery with mud and so he slowly turned the rock until the dry surface was resting in the palms of his hands.

Balancing the rock in the crook of one arm he used his free hand to quickly pass the loop of rope over his head. Immediately, his free hand returned to take up the burden of the weight of the rock.

He stepped forward, careful where he placed his feet in case he should stumble or slip upon something hidden in the dark. Two more small steps and he felt the coldness of the lake water as it rose over the sides of his shoes and soaked his socks and feet. He continued moving forward; always testing the ground before transferring his weight. Carefully and with determination he continued moving out into the lake, not even shivering when the water was splashing and lapping around his stomach. The wetness was icily cold but he was not taken by its presence.

He continued on his voyage until the water was up to his neck and splashing gently into his mouth. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the sight of the world he was trying to leave behind and then he changed his mind, opening his eyes once again and allowing them to feast upon the solemn beauty of the moon as she crept out from behind the cloud.

Relaxing his arms, he felt the rock strike his thigh just as the rope jerked hard and yanked his head completely under water, dragging him away into a panic-filled peacefulness. A faint splash heralded his passing, a lone owl hooted softly in the distance. The outward racing ripples dissipated and rejoined their brothers, gently pushing towards the shore line.

Slowly, a dark shape began to rise from the water, glistening in the moonlight as the cold droplets of the lake fell back towards their home. The head of a young woman appeared, rising higher and higher until her naked body was completely free from the lake except where gentle ripples passed across her still-wet feet.

Come, she spoke softly. It is time for you take your place in the world of man...

Slowly, a second silhouette of a head appeared, rising gently and carefully into the world it was being reborn within.

A third figure stood upon the land, half-hidden in the shadows of branches of the near-by trees, remaining silent whilst watching the events as they continued to unfold. Staring toward the lake, she looked on as a dark figure rose higher and higher from the water and remained watching as a dark silhouette of a man began to slowly walk towards the lake edge. She saw a hand being swept through dark, tousled hair, disgorging water back into the lake.

1.01 - The March

There was a lot of shouting and yelling coming from the lobby just outside this huge room that the man now sat in. Green benches faced each other, empty and vacant, each trying to feign its innocence about the atrocities that had been born and voiced within this very room.

‘Guy Fawkes had the right idea,’ thought the man to himself. ‘If I could have stopped him getting caught then I would have...’

The men who had come into the chamber with him had now gone racing to join the shouting crowd outside in the foyer and he wondered what it was that they would be celebrating now. Looking down at the table that he was sitting on he saw a few odd books still standing, but the majority were on their side or strewn about the floor nearby. One microphone remained standing, untouched, whilst the other was snapped at the stem with the lead trailing away over the edge and down the side of the table.

The man tried to think how things should be organised for the future. He wanted to have ideas that were worthy of the new era that was undoubtedly upon his country. ‘There is no going back now,’ he told himself, recalling how the riots had started in recent times and how the government had fought against those riots. First with the police and then, when many of the police deserted and joined the rioters, they sent in the army. For a little while it seemed as though the whole rebellion was to be over in a matter of days. The leaders of the country proclaimed these facts to the watching public with broadcasts made over internet, TV, and radio.

It was these very politicians who looked as shocked as many of the public when the army personnel took their weapons and joined the forces of the public. For a few days the army had had a stand-off with itself, whilst the Brigadiers and Generals decided what was to be done. In the end, the army made it known through internet broadcasts that they would not be attacking the rioters and nor would they be at the beck and call of the government.

The man recalled his own astonishment when, in one of those broadcasts, a General whose name he could not immediately recall, had said, The military of this government will not be taking sides in the rebellion but will continue in its duty to protect this country and its borders. Already, plans are in place to start returning troops to the country from those places where they should not be. It is the military’s aim to defend the people of this country while the country decides how and by whom the land should be led. The military will make itself accountable to the newly elected government once the people of the nation have made their choice. Until then we will defend this country from any outside interference while the new governing body is decided upon.

When he had heard this broadcast he knew that he had made the right decision when he had set out, along with many others, to march towards the capital and request the existing Government to step down while new elections were held; elections that would be deemed fair by the whole of the population and from where the candidates would be selected. Only working men with a working background would be deemed fit to run the country. The established ‘old boys club’ was out and the people wanted to be led by real people, not by greedy and power-grabbing puppets of merciless industries.

Travelling towards the capital, he had become the nucleus of a small group who shared ideas and expressed opinions about what the new future would or could be. They talked plenty about the recent years and what had gone wrong.

It was during a part of the march through a small town that he had heard glass breaking and, looking out from the small crowd he was within at the time, he saw two youths breaking a shop window, preparing to enter and take whatever items they deemed to make their own.

Something had snapped within him and then, pushing against those around him, almost stumbling through the crowd, he had run toward the two youths. Stopping to face one who had turned to face him, he saw the other youth walking back through the broken window carrying an assortment of cameras and phones.

What d’you want, the first youth had asked him, his face scowling with the recognisable lack of any real intelligence that seemed to sit upon so many of the faces of the youth of today.

As his friend exited the shop, standing beside him, he heard the voices of others who had ran behind him and who were now standing facing the two youths.

What? said the second youth, adding, You go and get your own. These are ours!

Reaching out, the man had brought his fists slamming downwards, knocking all the stolen items out of the arms of the thief.

No, no, no! the man had shouted. We are not trying to fix our country just so the likes of you can use and abuse it to satisfy your own thieving desires!

From behind him, the man heard mumbles of assent and to his side he saw men and woman nodding their heads.

Turning to look behind him, the man was surprised to see that it was not just a few who had followed him but it was the whole crowd. Standing behind him, stopping their march, the crowd was waiting for justice. All around him, people had their mobile phones out and were taking pictures of the two youths as they stood in front of the broken shop window. The youths looked like they wanted to run but, because of the mass of people before them, they knew that they would not get easily away.

Turning, the man shouted, We want to build a new world that is not infected with the likes of these parasites! We need this type of behaviour to stop!

What should we do with them? shouted a voice from somewhere in the crowd, quickly being echoed by others around them.

Turning forward, he could see that the two youths did not look so cocky right now. Their stance was of acting tough but there was nervousness in their posture. From his right, there was quick movement as the woman that was standing there leant forward and spat at the thief nearest her. The thief made a movement as if to attack her but the nearby crowd stiffened and the thief suddenly thought better of his intended reaction.

What should we do with them? shouted a voice, though he did not know if it was the original maker of the statement.

Sensing an anger building in the crowd and believing it was his own fault that the two youths were now in this predicament, the man tried to come up with an answer that was fair.

Facing the two thieves, he said, I want you two to remain here and guard this shop and make sure no-one else takes anything. This whole march on the City of London is because we want to get rid of the thieves and robbers. We don’t want any of them amongst our ranks. We want youth we can be proud of, ones that will take our dreams further and not ones that would destroy the foundations of our civilization.

Around him he heard words of assent, agreement, and mumblings, as what he had said was passed to those further back in the crowd.

Sure, said the taller youth. We’ll look after the shop.

Not really believing him, the man had nodded and said, While one guards, the other should look for something to board the shop up and protect it from the rains should they come.

Sure, no problem, we’ll do that, said one youth looking at the other.

And it is because of that one incident that I am now sitting here in the House of Commons, he said out loud to himself.

Though he had not really believed the promise of the youth’s he had hoped that they would prove him wrong.

It was two days later when they were just entering another small town that he had been descended upon by a News crew that had been searching him out. People had come pushing through the crowd, talking to people and, after a little while, he realised that the new-comers were being pointed in his direction. ‘What do they want with me?’ he thought, noticing the man carrying a large video camera whose end was balanced upon his shoulder.

Are you the man who ordered the two young males to cease stealing from a shop and to stand and guard the shop instead? asked the blonde-haired woman, all but ramming her microphone into his face.

Pushing the microphone slightly away from him, he had asked, What do you want?

The viewers would like to know if you are the man who stopped the two males from stealing from a shop.

Nodding, the man had replied, I am the man. I did request them to cease their stealing, yes, he had said, wondering why such an incident would garner such interest.

So, you had seen these two males stealing from a shop...

After they had broken the main window, he had said, interrupting the reporter.

So, on seeing the two males breaking the shop window and attempting to steal merchandise, you stopped them and ordered them to remain and guard the shop. Is that correct?

Nodding, the man had said, Well, I did not really order them. I asked them. It just seemed wrong, what they were doing, when all of this trouble in the country has been caused by thieves and robbers in the first place. People we elected and placed our trust in.

And did you expect them to remain and do what you ord... asked them to? asked the reporter.

I don’t know. I was hoping that they would...

So, how did you feel when it was known that the two males simply gathered up cameras and phones the minute that the crowd had passed...

I didn’t know that they...

And do you feel responsible in any way for their deaths?"

W-What? he had said, taken back by this sudden raw piece of information.

Do you feel responsible? the reporter asked him again.

I... What happened? was all he could think to say.

Someone, and I presume it is one of the people near to you now, went back to check on what had happened and, once it was known what had happened, they began circulating pictures of the two youths on the internet, requesting people to seek them out. The search went viral. A lot of people had taken pictures at the time of the incident and it did not take long before they were found.

What happened to them? he asked.

I don’t have all the details but from what we have been told so far the two youths were attacked but, before they were badly hurt, some people intervened. The youths were led away to the local river and, after being weighed down with rocks tied around them, they were thrown from the bridge.

Trying to take the information in, wondering what was going to happen to him, expecting the sudden appearance of the police as they came to arrest him, his mind’s attention was taken by the words of the people standing around him as the story that the reporter had told had been passed between them, filtering through the crowd. Occasionally, a cheer went up and hearing those cheers made him feel a little stronger. He had not wanted the youths to be killed. In fact, he did not want them to be beaten in the first place but now, now that it had happened and the fact that those around him had deemed to think the punishment just, he felt a little stronger.

Do you feel responsible? asked the reporter again, demanding an answer.

Yes, he had replied. I feel responsible because I am just one of the many people in this country who allowed it to descend to such a level that feral beings such as these were able to exist. Their lives were wasted and it should never have been allowed to get to this state, but society lost its way. We all lost our way, our pride, our love of life, our need to grow...

Suddenly realising that he had been shouting, he became quiet, hearing the stillness and silence from those who stood near to him. Mumblings could be heard washing through the crowd like gentle waves crashing on a beach that was awaiting a coming storm.

Before he could say more to the reporter, he felt movement and jostling in the crowd and, as he glanced around, he saw the reporter pushed to the side and men gathered around him and then, before he could respond, he was being hoisted into the air and then suddenly, he was high on someone’s shoulders as the crowd pressed in around him. There was shouting and cheering and then, through the noise, he had heard the reporter shout toward someone, while she pointed at him held high on broad shoulders, and she asked, What’s his name?

He heard a voice call out in reply, He is The Man!

A cheer had gone up and then, suddenly, the reporter was lost from sight as the crowd, moving as if it were one gigantic beast, began to wind out onto the main road and continue its journey toward the capital city.

As the march had continued towards London, the news report that he had been involved in had been viewed on the internet many, many times by many people and, even though he only saw the report once, he could see how the News team had spun the part about him being ‘The Man.’ Now, that’s all he was referred to by. He had simply accepted the name and as the journey south had continued slowly a close group had grown around him. There were others just like him who wanted to discuss the way that change should occur and how they wanted that change to be fair to all, and they were joined by more than a handful of large men who had taken it upon themselves to make sure that no one got close enough to him who looked as though they may be out to cause him harm. They had even kept the News reporters away and this had all created a sort of mystique around him. The attention at first was unsettling but after a while he accepted it, as the position he was in allowed him the privilege of being able to talk to many, many like-minded people and hear their ideas and hopes for the future. Quickly, he had become the spokesman for what had started out as groups of rag-tag people simply gathering together to march on London and demand a better society for all.

In the beginning, when he had packed a rucksack with some food and had walked outside to join the small group who were setting off for London, waving placards and calling for change, he had expected to march for a day or two before the group dissipated and the momentum ran out.

He had believed that what he would personally achieve would be more knowledge of these times and of how his fellow citizens felt about what was being done to their country. He had believed, or rather, hoped that he would find some direction, some purpose to aim toward. He needed to be doing something to fight for his country and he had hoped that the march would bring him his answers. He was more than a little surprised to learn that the march was the answer!

The group had not dissipated as he had thought and, instead, the numbers had swollen. News crews would film them as if they were a freak show, making reports and guessing how long it would be before boredom and fatigue set in and everyone in the group slowly slipped away and made their own way back to their homes but more and more groups began to sprout up around the country and when these groups began to meet up to form bigger groups, helped by socializing sites on the web which were used to coordinate the waiting places and timing of arrival there, then the media really began to sit up and take notice. Soon, there were police lining parts of the routes and occasional helicopters watching from above.

For a time, it was something that most of the country watched from the comfort of their homes but, over time, more and more were watching their own progress on their mobile phones, tablets, laptops and whatever else they had that would allow them internet access. The protest groups were joined by people who towed mobile generators and these were set up to allow the people to recharge their devices. Burger vans joined the crusade as well as many ‘hire’ vans filled with food and drink. Meals were available for everyone and port-a-loo’s became a common sight along the routes as well as locals in towns passing out maps of the locations of all public conveniences. In time, it became acceptable to knock on the doors of houses and the occupiers would welcome in anyone who required the use of the toilets or a wash, shower, or just a good sit down rest.

Like tributaries joining a river, the groups joining the procession swelled the ranks, and the river became a torrent. At first there were groups of dozens of marches, which then became hundreds until now there were many, many thousands of people marching on London.

The groups of yobs that harassed the walkers in the early days of the march had all but faded away. Slowly, this armada of dissatisfied people took on a more serious tone and the people of the country who watched the progress began to pin their own hopes of the future on the outcome of the marches. People did all they could to help the marchers; many more continued to join the marchers. The media referred to the phenomenon as the Walk of Woe. Media used the abbreviation ‘WOW’ and that in its self all but created a brand for the marchers. There were many who wanted to be a part of the WOW and so the numbers marching continued to grow, not only meeting up with the main marchers but new groups staring out from the far reaches of the kingdom.

The speed of the march slowed, not just because of those who found it more difficult to keep up a fast pace, but because there were signs beginning to show that the slow, inevitable movement encroaching on London was going to herald an almighty storm. The government began to get nervous, using the police to block specific routes for certain concocted reasons, they used water-cannon to soak the marchers in the hope that they would get fed up with being wet and just return to their homes, they even resorted to impounding a number of the vehicles that provided much needed support to the marchers. Some were impounded because they did not have a licence to carry specific medical equipment, or the medicines that were stored on board, some were ‘found’ to be not road-worthy, and others were simply towed away after being surrounded by a large number of ‘linked-arm’ policemen.

Through all of this he, The Man, had frowned upon violence and told those around him to accept what the authorities did and that, most importantly, the rest of the country had to see that all they were doing was being done peacefully.

The authorities did not like this and gave new orders to the police who then began charging into the marchers to arrest specific individuals and then assist in TV reports stating they had arrested a number of criminals for which there were active warrants. The authorities did all they could to slur the names of the marchers, digging up real dirt on some and manufacturing their own dirt on others. However, the public began to see through all of the smear campaigns and the hatred for the authorities began to grow even stronger.