Doom Coin

Short story by Teodor Kreczmar-Schuldorff

Finally, the CEO of a brokerage house explained that he had nearly completed building his own underground bunker system, and asked: “How do I maintain authority over my security force after the event?” The event. That was their euphemism for the environmental collapse, social unrest, nuclear explosion, solar storm, unstoppable virus, or malicious computer hack that takes everything down.

— Douglas Rushkoff

 

 

The First Morning

Those confined for a long period may long for the warmth of the baking sun, but there is one thing that gives an even more intense feeling of pleasure: the crisp freshness of air early on a spring morning.

The room where the men gathered was carved into the side of a mountain, but a wall-sized window looked out over pristine alpine scenery. A window that now opened to the world for the first time in a year. Eight men gathered around for a long-awaited view of the natural world.

Six of the men had the well-proportioned bulk of professional security guards, their skills and outlook on life fine tuned by years in the special forces of various nations. One of the other two men had the wiry frame of a man who liked to keep in shape but knew he would never need the physical strength to overwhelm and kill someone. That was Ori, the veteran of Unit 8200, Israel’s famed cyber warfare unit. Finally, there was the Englishman, Tom. A former of employee of GCHQ, the branch of British intelligence that listened to all the world’s conversations. In spite of having a year underground with little to do apart from pursue various forms of relaxation and use the world-class gym facilities, Tom had remained obstinately chubby.

Tom announced to the group, “Not only is it a sunny day, lads, but there is also no background radiation.”

The small group of men could be best described with just two words: disciplined and deadly. To protect their employer, they were collectively capable and willing to use any form of weapon, whether in the physical or the digital world.

Until that morning, they had been confined in a large complex deeper inside the mountain. It had been a comfortable but dull existence as they hid and from the chaos that had reigned across the world. War, nuclear and conventional, plague, both natural and man-made, plus a variety of bonus natural disasters had ravaged the world but they were safe and alive. The complex their boss, a multi-billionaire tech baron, had illegally built in New Zealand’s Southern Alps had its own sources of water and energy, together with enough supplies of every kind to sustain comfortable modern living for at least a hundred years.

A heavy metal door swung open on one side of the room. It was the door that led to the inconceivably luxurious living area of the billionaire. A space he shared with his domestic staff, his medical team and a small harem of beautiful women of various ethnicities. The balding middle-aged billionaire was wearing a tight t-shirt that showed off his well-honed torso but could not dispel the image of irredeemable geekiness. He was also at least a head shorter that most of his guards. As he stepped into the middle of the room, the guards started cheering and clapping. Their master raised his hands gently into the air to quieten them down but there was a clear look of pleasure on his face.

“Guys, we survived.”

More clapping.

Bill, the American head of physical security, a hint of emotion in his voice and a tear in his eye, growled. “You saved us, boss.”

The boss stood on a small stool, he had brought with him, so he could raise his head above the level of his men.

“As you know from the sensors, background radiation has fallen back to acceptable levels. We can now resume normal life above the surface and move back into main complex once we have secured the physical and digital boundaries of the estate.

“I know many of you did not believe the Event would ever happen. But it did, and we were ready. There are small groups of survivors scattered across the globe but most of the world is now de-populated. There are only two functional nation states, Singapore and Switzerland. We have evidence those nations and some of the other communities have already started trading with each other again. Planes are flying and ships sailing again. All that trade is being carried out in the only currency that was built to be immune to both rapacious states and nuclear war, and you know what that is …”

There was a moment’s silence before one of the beefier guards blurted out: “Bitcoin.”

“Yes, bitcoin is now the world’s only creditable currency. And it makes me very pleased to announce to you that I am doubling the post-Event bitcoin bonus I promised to pay you.”

Most of the group cheered loudly apart from Ori, who seem less than enthused about receiving more of the infamous cryptocurrency.

The billionaire grinned nervously at their excitement and took a short breath before continuing. “There is a quite a lot I have to attend to, but you have a post-event plan to execute. We can talk some more tomorrow, but my catering team are already preparing a feast for you to celebrate our survival.”

The excitement of the guards at their survival and additional bonus filled the room. Two crates of chilled beers appeared at a service hatch. Tom and Ori stared at each other as though they had unfinished business.

“Ori, I told you we were going to survive, but for some reason you bet on Armageddon destroying us.”

“Of course. I bet on Armageddon, you English buffoon, we Jews invented the concept. It’s pronounced Har Megiddo, in Hebrew.”

“So, are you going to keep your promise?”

Ori took a smart phone from his pocket and much to his surprise found it had a connection to the Internet.

“So, l owe you one bitcoin. Before all this madness, that would have been worth almost fifty thousand dollars. Let’s see if there are any bitcoin miners operating anywhere in this wrecked world. Let’s have a beer and see what happens.”

The two men moved to a corner of the room away from the whooping and back slapping of the more physical part of the security team and sipped at their beers.

“You never did believe in bitcoin did you Ori? But you still call yourself a libertarian.”

“Listen English, I have degrees in electrical engineering, computing and economics. Technologically and economically, it never made any sense. This so-called technological marvel takes ten minutes to process a transaction, it’s garbage technology.”

Tom chucked, “Look a new transaction has been processed and fed to my crypto wallet, it’s our bonus and what’s this? It’s the payment of your debt. Thanks for that settling your debt, Ori, it seems my favourite form of money has survived a nuclear war and people are mining it again.”

The Second Morning

The head of security, a gregarious American who had grown an impressive beard during their period underground, stood up to address the group.

“The estate is secure. There are no obvious signs of human life in the vicinity of the estate. Which is good because we don’t want some mob attempting to invade our employer’s lovely valley begging for food. And you know what the standing orders are for dealing with hungry mobs. So now, for a discussion of the important topics, over to Jakob, our Viking friend. I think you have been having some thoughts.”

“So, what’s the plan for pillaging, Viking?”, called out one of the group.

The tall red headed Norwegian took his turn to speak.

“Many of you guys were in Afghanistan like me. You know the best way to get things is the softly, softly approach. We have identified a small farming settlement, 50 miles from here. It seems to have survived. A few of you may have passed through it.”

“Scotsville,” called out one of the group.

“Yes, Scottsville. The population is large enough to have a good few women of pluckable age. Not to mention, harder liquor than the Boss’s beer and quite likely some harder substances. Currently we are unable to get in contact with them electronically, so the plan for is for two of us to take the auto-gyro there and propose some trading.”

Aside from Ori, the security detail started to stamp their feet on the floor and pump their fists in the air.

The Second Afternoon

By the afternoon of the second day the security group had moved back into their normal quarters. A wing of the secure mansion the billionaire had built in the valley below. The group had rushed excitedly to their assembly room when the autogyro was spotted returning. As they gathered, they found Jakob on a table having a dressing applied to his leg.

Ori spoke first.

“What happened Jakob?”

Wincing with pain, Jakob spoke to the whole group.

“We, er. We landed the autogyro on the edge of the village. We went to one house. We were very obviously heavily armed but made it clear our intentions were friendly. We offered them bitcoin in exchange for women and whiskey. One of them got angry and started firing. We didn’t return fire and flew back. It’s only a flesh wound.”

Ori, the voice of logic in the group looked at Bill.

Bill shook his head. “Ori, please don’t tell us the Boss is going to be angry or some such nonsense. We are the ones who have the power now. We can go back to that three sheep town at some point, wipe out all the men and take as many women as we like and there is nothing the boss can do to stop us.”

Ori, shrugged.

“That may be necessary, as long as we don’t get confused and wipe out the women and bring back the sheep. But Tom and I have some news. Tom …”

Tom shuffled his feet a little, took a bite from a Snickers, nervously chewed a little and swallowed.

“Lads, Ori and I have been doing our own reconnaissance, but of the digital world. The sole operational bitcoin miner is on this estate and probably run by the boss. Nobody on this planet seems to be trading or using cryptocurrencies of any kind. We did manage to find small parts of the Internet are operational. The undersea cables that connect New Zealand to Australia and then on to Singapore are working. There is even a bunch of websites operational in Singapore.

“Parts of Singapore are under water, but there are thousands of survivors trying to get into Singapore because it’s still a functioning city. The Singaporeans have set up trading posts on neighbouring islands. Commodities such as food and oil can be traded there for Singaporean electrical goods, medicines and passes to visit the City. Bitcoin is banned in Singapore. They don’t want any Singaporean selling their precious resources for something their new government has described as worthless.”

Collective groans of “shit” circled round.

Darren, a Scottish ex-mercenary, with an ear missing and reputation for not being the smartest guy in the room, was the only exception.

“I sold my bitcoin before everything when to shit.”

“For what Darren?” Tom asked will barely hidden contempt. “Dollars, Dogecoin?”

“No, those digital Swiss Francs, the Swiss issued just before we went into the bunker. I have almost a million of them in my electronic wallet. I don’t know how to use them, but Switzerland still exists doesn’t it? The Boss said so.”

Tom grabbed the Scotsman, hugged him and rubbed his shaved head.

“Darren, you are the classic idiot savant, by which I mean a genius. We can help you.”

Tom turned to his Israeli colleague, “Can’t we Ori?”

“Yes, we found a website on the Singaporean web for the Swiss embassy. We can even call them. Darren, you have you phone and security details?”

The shiny headed Scots nodded.

The group gathered around Tom as he sat at a workstation and made a call. To the hushed surprise of the bodyguards, they heard a feminine voice with a slight Germanic accent answer the call.”

“Swiss Embassy financial and CBDC department.”

Tom spoke.

“We are calling from New Zealand and have some digital Swiss Francs.”

“New Zealand still exists?”

“Yes, New Zealand still exists and it is a beautiful day here.”

“I am very pleased to hear that, I am told it is a beautiful country.”

“Are we still able to use these Francs?”

“Of course. They are Swiss Francs,” she responded emphasising the word ‘Swiss.’ “Even in Singapore they are accepted for everything. They are basically the only creditable form of money.”

Collective sighs filled the room.

“I am afraid there is a 10% civil emergency tax that needs to be paid before they can be used. It is regrettable but even Switzerland needs to do some re-building after the event. Also, you will need to transfer them to another account, which I can create for you.”

Instructions were given and buttons pressed. The Swiss lady signed off the call.

When Darren realised his money was gone from his wallet and the new account was impossible to access, he threw his smart phone at the wall smashing a mirror. “I survive the collapse and I’m rich. Rich for five bloody minutes before some bitch scams me. I am going to kill, kill her …”

Two of his colleagues restrained him before he could do any more damage to the room, but it was unnecessary. Darren sank to him knees and sobbed. Five thousand impossible miles lay between him and revenge.

Very calmly, Ori turned to Bill.

“We talked about potential scenarios for a post-event world. The boss will be out of his bunker now. We have to go and do what we talked about.”

“Ok, but we vote on it. We agreed this option requires a unanimous vote.”

“Guys we have right to do this don’t we? We talked about it as an option. Who is in favour?”

All the men in the room raised the room apart from Tom.

Ori gently placed his hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“I know you have always admired the man. You were, like, one of his biggest fanboys even before you signed up for this.”

His body made heavy by his feelings, Tom still managed to raise his hand.

“I don’t like this but let me do this. I want to talk to the him. He is the man and we will never meet anyone like him again.”

The mansion had rooms in an eclectic group of styles. Tom and Bill found the billionaire alone sitting in a library built in the style of an Oxford college.

“Hi guys, what’s up?”

It was Tom that spoke.

“Boss, I am sorry. I have always admired you. Your business acumen, your political opinions, your foresight in building this place. But the world now is a different place, creating new technologies to get around governments stealing your hard earned money with taxes, financial engineering … well, they just don’t value that in this world. Ammunition is probably going to be the new world currency …”

But before Tom could finish his speech, Bill shot the billionaire in the chest. Quickly he moved over to him and shot him once more in the chest and then in his head.

Before the smoke from the shots had fully dissipated, a familiar image appeared on a large screen.

“Yo! Jack! This is Elon. How did the simulation go? Were your body guards still loyal after you locked them in a cave for a year? Hope you don’t mind me messing with you, but I changed a few params of the post-event stuff. Added in a few more things to challenge their loyalty. Anyway, call me back, otherwise see you with the other guys in Antigua next week. For the after-action review. Give my love to your harem, and I mean that. Otherwise I’ll fly down and give my love in person.”