We all step onto the concrete structure and start to walk along the red carpet that leads to the central building. The carpet feels soft under my shoes – one of the few luxuries still allowed. They walk a few more paces and then stop, both looking up at what has been named ‘Cloud Reach’. It’s one of the few prototypes that have already journeyed to the clouds and back, proving that Lawrence’s vision can be realised. Measuring thirty feet in diameter, it isn’t ever going to be big enough for no more than a lucky handful to fit inside, but it proves that this wild concept can work. Inside is a small control room, the engine area and a boardroom – the place where Lawrence has sold dreams to so many of those who are desperate to be permanent survivors.
Each group of hopeful delegates is treated to these luxury surroundings, with all the best the Caribbean can offer, furnished by top designers who already have a promised ticket. The first time I went up into the clouds, I have to admit that I felt a rush at knowing I was part of this, as well as knowing that humanity can achieve anything it wants when working together. The smiles of the sometimes skilled, usually creative, often super-rich people would always give me a warm feeling knowing that we were building something big.
I often look at the clouds and imagine 100 silver mushrooms in the light blue sky, all glistening from the solar panels running along their dome-shaped roofs. The finished structures will be bigger than Cloud Reach and will stretch for quarter of a mile in length, with the bottom half of the structure holding the engines for the on-board motors and living quarters. Imagine a giant hamburger: the bottom part attached to steel tethers and various power cables, while the top bun contains the balloon control area and individually maintained super-helium feeds that can lift the immense structure up into the sky.
People would often laugh at Lawrence, pointing out to him just how expensive helium is. This is so obviously true but imagine what you can get your hands on when it’s not being protected, and besides he would just show them the next steel tether, which runs even further up into the clouds, far above us. This next structure reaches up towards the stars and houses the hydrogen generators and more giant balloon casings. At this height, with our precious citizens no longer at risk from explosions, this final dome holds the floating city in place, keeping us up high, safe from whatever lurks on the ground.
It took me time to accept the idea that something so big could be kept afloat by just a couple of different kinds of powerful gases and some giant engines. He proved it could work with Cloud Reach and he showed that air density, temperature and pressure aren’t capable of stopping us. You just need a big enough balloon, as Lawrence often says. His team of geeks have even managed to find a home for water storage tanks and heating, insulation and waste removal, which does have a nasty habit of dropping on those left below.
When our visitors arrive we don’t discuss this detail. Instead we let them look out of their hotel windows to marvel at the view; for most of them the experience seems to rapidly change from post-apocalyptic escape to simply viewing a new holiday home or a second apartment. They quickly forget the hell that will be inevitably unfolding in some other place, but I wonder if they will realise what awaits them in this new life. The opulent surroundings of Cloud Reach give a real view of the height of the project, but the sheer scale of what Lawrence plans means that most of the lucky ones will be in box rooms with no windows and only shared facilities, at least for the first launch. Although I always see shock on their faces at the end of each tour, I am invariably left amazed by Lawrence’s ability to turn this around and to sell his vision of the future despite the probable harshness of the first year or two.
I think about this new vision for the future, and the Chinese who have come to hear this story and the ultimate selling job Lawrence has done on Tyrell, who must remain dedicated to the plan. As they walk forward I stay close to both of them, desperate to hear Lawrence’s new twist. Once again, he wins over the simple man in front of him who will forever remain doubtful. He isn’t a clever man but he is a powerful one, at least on this island.
Tyrell examines him. Questions and demands seem to be on the tip of his tongue, but they never quite surface. He doesn’t really have any choice now: he has murdered most of the small parliament; the remaining people are on his side by brutal default. The police gave up their title the moment the world started slipping into chaos and this man now rules the island and everything on it. He doesn’t really have a clue; he just happened to be the police chief at the time and was offered a way out by some guy in a posh suit and with a far bigger vocabulary. If world power still existed then the army, an army of some nation, would have landed on these shores and liberated the people and removed these madmen long before it was turned into a launch pad. But there are no armies within a few hundred miles and any organisation that is left in power has other things to worry about. Other problems have paled into insignificance compared to the dramas now facing each individual nation.
And then came along Lawrence, an egotistical but determined man who seemed to have an idea to save some of humanity. He’s carving out a path to the future and bringing a select few with him. Tyrell will make the final cut – after all, we need him. We need his land and we need his people. But most of all we need them not to join us in the clouds and to keep their place firmly on land, to protect our roots and sacrifice themselves for our greater good.
Despite all Lawrence’s outstanding sales pitches, this is one I’m still waiting to hear.
‘Launch sequence commencing,’ a voice announces from the command centre.
It’s the standard drill, a slightly over-the-top take-off procedure for something so slow and which will be travelling vertically upwards, with only the odd wind turbulence to disturb us. There’s little to see at this stage but I still remember how blown away I was during my first few trips. Maybe I’m too used to the standard sequence now but one thing that strikes me as we’re being served drinks, is that the Chinese delegation aren’t smiling, unlike all the other guests we’ve had in here previously.
Lawrence talks as champagne is offered and declined by everyone but me. I encourage Roddy, our usual servant on these missions, to fill my glass to the top. Today of all days I believe it will be needed. I watch our new delegates but listen to the usual noises, hoping they will spark some interest. Below us I feel the roar of the engines, powering the motorised fans that will growl below us and carry us upwards. Above us, I hear the hiss of the pressure valves, doing their bit to regulate the helium flow, and above that the hydrogen generators are coming to life. When you put all these bits together I think it’s the sound of hope – we engineered this creation and together we stand a chance of survival. When I say ‘we’, I include myself, but I don’t know what my role is apart from following Lawrence around and accepting whatever abuse is required of me.
‘The entire system regulates itself through a central computer system,’ Lawrence says, leaning back in his oversized, leather chair and smiling as he spins his well-rehearsed and perhaps overused story. ‘It might be a little clunky to start but once we’re safely anchored in position the system really comes into its own. It can make up to 20 adjustments per second which, when you consider it is battling against weather, pressure and gravity, is something quite remarkable.’