**Author:** SLDH8MM3R --- ***The following log was uploaded to the EXODUS ARCHIVES on 20/10/42. Written by Diane Martha Kirkby and published by Tauno Jutt.*** **Riverside. October 17th, 2042.** Ambleside was once a beautiful town that rested adjacent to the Windermere lake. Showing off the local area’s unique architecture and history whilst having a variety of shops for every occasion, such as mountain climbing to experiencing the nightlife. It all crumbled as climate change gripped the region and heavy rain caused the lake to flood over into the villages and submerge this bustling area into a riverside ghost town. Beyond the old village is a vista of giant mountains that seem to stretch into the sky when the fog rolled across the valleys; these hills gave the locals a new area to recuperate and rebuild their lives in a place where the rising lakes wouldn’t affect the residents of New Ambleside. This normally quaint and idealistic snapshot of life before the fall of the United Kingdom has become another setting for a political skirmish between the United States and Russia. Rumours claim that two highly credible Russian climatologists have made a startling discovery relating to the sudden increase of natural disasters that have been plaguing the world, leading to their desertions after the Russian government charged them with leaking classified information. The town of New Ambleside has offered these scientists amnesty from Russia, causing them to respond by calling the settlement’s actions as a ‘blatant disregard of law and authority.’ In response, General McAllister claimed to be sending military aid and training for the settlement in the case that Russia decided to take the scientists by force; in reality, No-Pat contractors paid by the US government have been deployed to protect the town by erecting defensive positions and anti-aircraft weapons hidden in the mountains. In the interview below, I interviewed the bartender and innkeeper of the Prancing Fox, Neil Braithwaite on the situation. In this interview we discuss public opinion surrounding the scientists and the aggressive intervention from the remaining superpowers. **\[AUDIO-TEXT TRANSCRIPT OF RIVERSIDE #1 INTERVIEW]** KIRKBY: “Neil, thanks for sitting down with me. It’s nice to see the Prancing Fox back to its former glory, more packed than I remembered, is this because of the influx of Non-patriated mercenaries employed by the US?” NEIL: “Diane! Little Kirkby, I don’t think you’ve been here since you were a little bairden! (Child)” KIRKBY ”I was barely a kid, I was 17. Off-topic. How has the No-Pat interest in the area affected life in Ambleside?” NEIL: “We’re used to tourists and their kind, No-pats aren’t much different. Most of them use dollars ever since the Bar (Pound Sterling) became nothing more than a souvenir for visitors. They’re all mostly respectful, interesting people, but those who like to get absolutely kayeled (Drunk) with a gun on their hip, make us all sweat bullets. Most of us are armed now, trading room and board for pistols and shotguns. It’s like the Wild West!” KIRKBY: “Times are a-changing… But the Non-Patriated aren’t the only new temporary residents. A contingency of US forces have set up shop in the old radio station, acting as a defensive adviser and conducting military training. How’s that affected life here?” NEIL: “Before they were here, we were governed by a sort-of police militia consisting of local lads, ex-policemen and ex-military. Ever since the Marines have taken charge, they run the show, setting up checkpoints and training the marshals. ‘Preparing them for Russian aggression’ they claim. It’s bollocks.” KIRKBY: “So the United States have occupied a peaceful settlement to use as a staging ground against Russia? This is becoming more common around the old EU. But it’s usually independent port towns and places of some strategic importance, what’s puzzling is the reason why they’d go for a small town and not the local military bases.” NEIL: “It’s a show of strength, rolling up to anywhere they please and putting their nuts on the table. If their ‘Liaison Squad’ is anything to go by, they’ll make sure you’re following the flag; choice is if it’s by money or by the barrel.” **\[END OF TRANSCRIPT]** The Liaison squad Neil could be referring to the Foreign Activities Liaison Team, FALT for short. An internal offshoot of the Non-Patriated Counter Terrorist Unit specifically tasked with more delicate operations, like the collapse of French mafia gun-runners in Southern France, 2041. Little has been declassified or uncovered of their operations, leading to them becoming the boogiemen of insidious No-Pat factions and a looming threat to the more docile groups. Back to the subject, I moved the question towards the scientists themselves. These two climatologists had been hiding in the village since August, identified as renowned climatologists Kirill Blokov and his wife Yana Blokov, have settled into the village as a farmer and seamstress respectively. With the strong sense of community, the people of New Ambleside stand by the pair’s refusal to be taken back to Russia. In this next interview I had a discussion with Yana about how they’re coping with the stand-off and their fears of returning to Russia. **\[AUDIO-TEXT TRANSCRIPT OF RIVERSIDE #2 INTERVIEW]** KIRKBY: “Yana, with your husband and yourself underneath such extraordinary circumstances. How would you describe both of your feelings right now?” YANA: “Tired, me and my husband are watched by the US and the Marshals like the Crown Jewels. From the moment we wake up to the moment we go to bed, we’re been observed for our ‘own safety.’ We can’t even relieve ourselves without an armed guard by the door! It is extremely stressful.” KIRKBY: “General consensus seems to be that intervention from the US has been heavily detested, as the same for Russia’s possible invasion. Do you believe there’s a lesser evil or something else?” YANA: “Bah! Both the US and Russia are up in arms about our findings, Russia is using the cloak of law and order to silence us whilst the US probably wants to parade us around before forcing us to retract the statement.” KIRKBY: “What statement? Why would America want us to silence your discovery?”” YANA: “I told your friend Tauno everything. I will not repeat it in case they are listening.” KIRKBY: “They? Who’s they-“ **\[END OF TRANSCRIPT]** They? Tauno? This conflict seems to be a rabbit hole of secrets and lies. I will keep following this thread until I can give a real answer to the conspiracy. For now we turn to the media support for the conflict, many across the globe have been picking their sides to the conflict; ranging from pro-Russian and pro-American arguments feuding over message boards. But some are petitioning for both nations to withdraw from the conflict with mainly ex-UN speakers, peacekeeping charities and celebrities expressing support for the settlers. In my article I have the pleasure to share the views of three time winner of the Kentucky Derby (and my loving baby sister) Courtney Kirkby on her opinion of the events. **\[AUDIO-TEXT TRANSCRIPT OF RIVERSIDE #3 INTERVIEW]** COURTNEY: “DINA! It’s been ages! How’s life been? I’ve been following your articles, the Mexicali border crisis piece made me cry for a week!” KIRKBY: “I…could be better sis, but thank you for sharing my post on the K-Net! It has helped spread the truth about what’s not being told.” COURTNEY: “Aw! It’s a pleasure!” KIRKBY: “On less uplifting news, the New Ambleside stand-off has been one of the factors that had led many to believe we’re heading into another war like the one in the 2020s. Do you have any comments on that?” COURTNEY: “It's absolutely terrible that we as humans have resorted to killing each-other for what remains. Nations are dying everyday and I don’t want my home to become another site of bloodshed.” KIRKBY: “That’s… incredibly profound Court, thanks for sharing.” COURTNEY: “Thanks! Oh! As a member of the Humanaid charity, we’ve been happy to support the town with air-drops of clothes, food and games.” KIRKBY: “They already have a good amount of supplies, what we really need it-“ COURTNEY: “-And with a small donation of twenty dollars, we can help protect these people from war and famine!” KIRKBY: “…Thanks Courtney. For Humanaid’s support too.” COURTNEY: “No problem, can I talk to you off the record? It’s about mum and dad-“ **\[END OF TRANSCRIPT]** There we have it, with Russia and the US breathing down the necks of this small community, the world watches as these titans stand on the brink of war. With allies everywhere from traders to celebrities, we can only pray for the future of this settlement. This is Diane Kirkby, signing out. <br> **Riverside. “There was an idea, an Archive.”** **Braithwaite Pub, October 17th, 2042.** As Diane typed out the last words of her project, she felt a sigh of relief before the slow growth of dread set over her. The world was on the brink of war, cases of towns being put under lockdown or devastated became daily and this conflict would blur together in history. The last five months felt futile, with every single conflict draining her mental health and anxiety but she always thought it would get better; that’s until Courtney told her the news. “Mum and Dad, they’re dead.” In truth, it was a relief off her chest. Diane never saw eye to eye with her parents, especially after they shunned her for being true to herself around them. She hated that Diane got her cold and inquisitive attitude from her ailing mother and the headstrong aggression from her overbearing father, she hated how she had been moulded into the soldier her father wanted her to be and tainting her hobbies of photography with her marksmanship training. Still, in the back of her mind, she missed them dearly and wished she had returned home sooner to her home in Langdale and the farmland she played around in as a child with her brother and sister; the old fields now flooded and made into another lake. To wash down her guilt, Diane grasped the bottle of Gin and placed it against her lips before chucking the fluid down her throat with a pair of mighty gulps. When the polished bottle ran dry, she placed it down beside the legion of other booze that she ingested throughout the night; one for luck, the second for courage, and the next five more for comfort. ‘What am I doing here?’ She kept thinking as she stared at the finished manuscript, tomorrow she would have to haggle with unfeeling media groups to buy another couple months of life and who knows what will happen after that? This wasn’t news, it was a deadend in a desolate bar with only the landlord watching over her to ensure she made it to her room. The blur from the white screen became too much to handle so instead she turned to the booth’s table and watched the contents sway in a drunken haze. A laptop, a press badge, a mountain of booze, and a gun. Her P226 sat on the table with its barrel pointed at the door in case of the Mercs or the Liaison Team causing trouble, but it was no use, she wasn’t the hero of the story for a long time. As she locked eyes with the slide of the pistol, her mind chanted intrusive commands between her ears and screamed to her that this was the end; no fanfare or parade, just a quick death in a quiet inn. All critical thinking had been washed away with the alcohol and wasn’t there to restrict her judgement; her hand slipped towards the gun. As if by divine intervention or coincidental timing, when her fingers pressed against the textured grip of the firearm, a gentle thud that rang in her ears like cannons revealed a bottle of vodka with a pink bow wrapped around the neck and a man who had seemingly appeared from thin air. The man was pale and thin with a patchy blonde stubble on his weathered face, his blue eyes reflecting in the stall’s yellow lights before disappearing behind a camo boonie hat when he took his seat in front of the woman. Diane’s hand took the pistol and slid it underneath the table out of sight, in reality it was pointed at the stranger as he searched through his bag as if it was a study session between college students. Her heart raced and her mind straightened as she perceived the man in front of her. Diane looked around at the vacant bar before scowling towards the stranger, “This booth is occupied, there’s plenty of available seats elsewhere.” “Not looking for a drink, I’m looking for you.” The mysterious stranger responded as he continued to rummage through his sack. Her suspicions began to rise as she moved the gun’s barrel to face the guest’s abdomen, with a furrowed brow she audibly cocked back the hammer of the pistol and waited for his reaction. She watched as his blood ran cold one second before pouring a drink in the next, he kept calm as he took out a file and slid it towards her; it was her personal information all bound in a card binder. Before she could retort, the man spoke with a calm yet authoritative Estonian accent. “I suspected nothing less from ‘the Kraken of Perth Coast.’ You do have a lot of enemies but be sure I’m not one of them.” To prove his words, he showed that his pistol was empty before placing his pistol on the table. Diane still kept her cold gaze and barrel locked on his movements, any slight twitch would be fatal. With her right hand she opened up the file to show her military records of her time as a sniper in the Royal Marines and cutouts of her cutthroat exposès that got her black listed from several nations both standing and destroyed. She was impressed by his gathering, but it worried her why he would play his hand like this. “If you’re not here to kill me, why the fuck are you here and who the fuck are you?” Diane growled as her thumb tensed around the grip. The man obliged her question and bowed his head to introduce himself. “My name is Tauno Jutt, Reporter and journalist for the Non-patraited like yourself. I wanted to meet you because you have questions and I have your answers.” This was who Yana was talking about, the one she mistook for an accomplice by their similar background in journalism. Tauno’s name was familiar as she frequently read his blogs to keep up to date with other Non-patriated news sources, she could finally match the face to the author. Diane slowly pivoted the barrel towards the entrance of the booth and slowly pressed the hammer to rest as she began to ease up to the Estonian. “Yana, she claims to have told you about the US involvement in the climate crisis; what did she tell you?” Diane enquired as she flicked the safety off, if Yana’s discovery was big enough to cause her to defect, then the climatologist’s findings could have huge implications. Tauno peered around the bar for anyone who could eavesdrop on what he had to say. “That the satellite that was internally identified as a US experimental satellite was ground zero for the blackout and the unexpected rise in natural disasters. The ship I’ve been working aboard is searching for coordinates of the landing site of the satellite.” Diane had heard something about a supposed weather-altering satellite but chalked it up to an urban legend amongst the intelligence agencies. “Shearwater…” Diane chewed her cheek as she uttered its name. “That’s the one, how did you know what it’s called?” Tauno was surprised by her knowledge of the US’ dirty little secret, though from his file on her, he knew that her whole business was finding the dirty secrets of others. Diane closed her laptop more to keep her attention on Tauno. “My contact with the US heard about a satellite project named Shearwater, some CIA pipe dream they thought it was.” Tauno exhaled with a grin on his face as he clasped his hands together, “It’s no dream, it's a reality I want you to help everyone to face.” He knew that he had got Diane’s attention with the inquiry into the story of a lifetime, a scandal burying its nose with the whole world watching for it. All this information had her curious however, why was he telling her. “Why are you really here, you wouldn’t clue me into the story of a lifetime without an ulterior motive. Spill.” Tauno chuckled softly, a short break in his stoic tone as he took his Boone hat from his shaven and placed it down on the table, Diane placing her gun on the table as well as she leaned in to listen. “This war, it’s going to consume the globe on every front. No-pats becoming cannon fodder and nobody willing to tell their story, people want to believe that their nation is the good guys or in some crackpot theories than accept the truth-“ He took a deep breath before continuing, his blue eyes cutting into Diane’s green eyes as he laid out his plan In full. “So I woke up in a cold sweat a few months ago, realising I couldn’t stand by as the No-pat people were swallowed by total war. As I wondered how to combat having the No-pats forgotten to time, then it came to me. There was an idea, an archive documenting the war as it unfolded from the eyes of the troops that fought in it; no bias or filter. And when I thought about not having any bias or a filter, I thought of you.” The earnestness in Tauno’s eyes were filled with the passion of the project between his tired and sunken sockets, Diane had never seen such passion to tell the truth since her first exposé on the Australian border crisis. With a deep breath she nodded and closed her laptop, a smile forming as she accepted his invitation. “Sounds dangerous, you’ll need a good photographer and a great sniper to cover you.” “The team I’m working with, the Exodus, will be glad to have you on board.” “I’ve heard about them, real soldiers of fortune.” “And good people, the best.” With a shared smile between the two, Diane reached for the bow-adorned bottle and filled their glasses to the brim before holding it up for a toast. Only the pair to witness this partnership. “To the archives!” “Aha! Yes! The Exodus Archives!”