Free Apocalypse by Dean Crawford Page B

you.’
    Joaquin chuckled. ‘Never say that. Nothing is impossible.’
    ‘The government wouldn’t let you do it, even if you could,’ she replied. ‘You know that.’
    Joaquin sighed.
    ‘They’re far too busy looking after themselves to be concerned with the needs of so many anonymous lives.’
    It was that same truth that had so embittered Isaac Abell and sent him into alternating paroxysms of fury and despair over the callousness of humanity and the self-interest of those charged with
representing and protecting their fellow human beings.
    There were approximately seven billion people on earth, yet their lives were governed by just a few thousand politicians, many of whom struggled to serve honorably under the crippling demands of
corporate capitalism, the twisting arm of the media and the machinations of countless narrow-minded pressure groups concerned only with their own personal or religious views of the world. Such
idiocy enraged Joaquin as much as it had infuriated his father. No president, no matter how adept, could reach the White House without asserting their belief in God, despite the fact that nobody on
earth even knew if any such deity existed. The media and major corporations funded the very campaigns that launched the careers of presidents, safe in the knowledge that their investments would
result in policies carefully tailored to ensure their profits. The whole charade was a circus of self-serving, profiteering bullshit, democracy lost at the expense of civil liberties and
justice.
    And so Joaquin had infiltrated the halls of power and set his organization to work rebuilding lands devastated by natural disasters, ravaged by disease and scoured of life by the horrors of
man’s endless conflicts. Contracts were awarded by Congress, often after months of lobbying by IRIS, to reconstruct entire cities shattered by war, while at the same time IRIS was fighting
off the equally determined lobbying of corporate giants which sought those same contracts purely for profit. Those contracts that IRIS won were used to bring peace where once chaos had reigned.
Over, and over, and over again. It was becoming harder and harder to secure funding for charitable ventures, forcing Joaquin to entertain ever more radical ideas to force the hands of the
politicians.
    ‘Your mind’s wandering,’ Katherine interrupted his thoughts with a gentle jab to his shoulder, ‘and the look on your face suggests weighty concerns that you can’t
solve alone.’
    Joaquin sighed again.
    ‘You’re right,’ he said, ‘as ever. Maybe soon this will all come to an end, but for now I must try to convince the governor of Florida to lobby Congress to provide us
with the funds we need to get supplies and medical equipment on the ground in Puerto Rico.’
    Katherine’s features sagged.
    ‘I thought we were staying here for a few weeks,’ she complained. ‘I only have to defend IRIS against a civil action, for which there is no evidence, and then I’m done.
The kids have barely seen you these last two months and school’s out in a couple of weeks. You promised them.’
    Joaquin nodded and rubbed his temples.
    ‘I know, it just can’t wait. I’ll have to spend some time out on the reef at Deep Blue. It should only take a day or so at the most – in fact I know it will, and then
we’ll be free.’
    Katherine sighed. Joaquin could see in her eyes that, despite her disappointment, she understood that the work he did took precedence over their own needs. One more day was often the difference
between life and death for those in need. A delay in funding, or one of the infuriating legal barriers that often blocked IRIS’s access to disaster areas, could result in the loss of
thousands of lives.
    ‘What’s so important, Joaquin?’ she asked him. ‘What did Sandra say to you this morning? And why do you need to be out on the coral reefs?’
    ‘I’m not going there for the coral,’ Joaquin explained patiently. ‘One