Karemma- Millions are fleeing from the northern hemisphere, where natural disasters have destroyed thousands of structures and claimed almost 10,000 lives.

A flow of refugees has steadily entered Karemma’s southern continent, collapsing in the streets due to sheer exhaustion.  Authorities have enforced martial law, spurred by riots against the government all over the planet.  Activists have claimed that officials are not taking the proper action because food and water have not been sent, and mobile medical facilities have not been assembled to aid the masses arriving each day.

As soon as I stepped onto the purplish Karemman soil from the debarkation ladder of my reliable shuttle, dirtied refugees began to pry off my shoes and attempted to pilfer my meager amount of latinum.  My contact, Onovar, freed me from their wrath. 

The disgusting stench of burning rubber filled my nostrils when we passed the local refuse depository, a popular hangout for the refugees.  There they haphazardly constructed lean-tos, bartering beneath them for food, water, and clothing, thirty-six hours a day.  As we continued our walk through the capital, Honva, Onovar explained to me the dire situation:

“Thousands have been pouring in each day.  The government has refused to help.  Only private establishments have sent humanitarian aid.  The hospitals are jammed full of injured Karemman, and all of the lodging facilities are full.  People have been sleeping on the streets.  They have been drinking from our rivers, which are severely polluted, adding even more weight to the hospitals’ backs.  It’s just chaos.”

Onovar led me back to his domicile in the outskirts of Honva, where the question arose in my mind: why have these even occurred in the first place?  And so I contacted the Ministry of the Environment, where the Delegate to the Northern Continent spoke to me about her speculations on the current situation:

“Roughly two hundred years ago, Karemman society was very prosperous.  The drawback to this economic stability was that Karemman companies turned out an average of 20,000 kilotons of waste. 

“Our scientists concluded that, though small, the radioactive particles emanating from some of the buildings used to contain the refuse would wipe out the entire planet within two hundred years.  Workers near the buildings were showing signs of early radiation sickness and others around the facilities were complaining of nausea, vomiting, and the other symptoms of radiation poisoning.

“The Ministry of Public Works, in conjunction with the Ministries of the Environment and Science, devised a plan that would protect our people from the deadly leakage.  The scheme stated that leak-proof containers would be constructed and transported either off-planet or into a remote mountain range in an unpopulated area of the northern continent.

“The three agencies hired Kovar Waste Disposal, a company specializing in this line of work to complete the job.  The receptacles were built and were transported into the Hoylar Mountains’ highest peak, almost 58,000 of your kilometers above sea level.

“When the tragedy occurred, our researchers investigated thoroughly and found that the containers, over the past one hundred years leaked radiation and caused the surrounding mountains to begin to collapse.  Eventually, the uplands eroded so much that mudslides, landslides, avalanches, and other natural disasters transpired.

“These disasters are being classified as natural, but in reality they are not.  We believe that Kovar Waste Disposal is responsible for this catastrophe and should be held accountable by the proper authorities.”

After my discussion with the Delegate, I attempted to speak to an official at Kovar Waste, whose worldwide headquarters are located in downtown Honva.  When I entered the building and talked to the administrative assistant, he said that the director was “held up in an executive meeting”.

And so I waited.  And waited.  And waited.  The suns were setting and the director was still in a meeting.  I left frustrated with back pains from the cold, hard chair I had been sitting in. 

I would try again and again for the next eight days, but with no luck.  After a tireless week of hailing and sitting in chairs waiting for a meeting to adjourn, my spell of bad luck broke.  The director and his other esteemed colleagues announced that a press conference would be held where all would be told.

But it wasn’t.  The director and associates backed out at the last moment, leaving the press, myself included, dumbfounded and upset.  So Kovar Waste Disposal remains an enigma.  A missing link in a puzzle that worries us all.

What of the fate of the Karemman forced from their homeland into the streets?  Until the missing link is found, neither we not they will know.

From Karemma, Tulok.

Next time, Tulok checks in from Vulcan, where a native will attempt to mind-meld with the Great Link.