Fragment

by Warren Fahy

  Geoffrey found himself agreeing with Thatcher. “This ecology might yield benefits we cannot even begin to imagine, Mr. President.”

  “It is a matter we have considered, Dr. Binswanger,” the President said. “Unfortunately, I must weigh potential benefits against potential hazards, which in this case appear to be extremely serious. Don’t you agree?”

  Geoffrey frowned.

  Thatcher bristled. “If the Navy were to keep guard around this island, how could anyone transport live specimens off it? How do we know these computer models are correct? We have not had nearly enough time to make such scientific conclusions with any certainty, with all due respect to Dr. Cato and his team!”

  The President nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Redmond. I’d like us all to hear what the Secretary of Defense has to say about the capabilities of the United States against this threat.”

  The secretary, a spry silver-haired man wizened by warfare, looked irritated as the camera panned from the man behind the big desk to him.

  “Well, we can’t simply strand and support such a large investment of assets in the middle of nowhere indefinitely,” he stated. “There are other threats in the world and a limited budget to deal with all of them. And no matter what we do, there are innumerable ways specimens could be smuggled off the island. High altitude airdrops and balloon-released specimen carriers would be exceptionally difficult to detect. Corruption of those entrusted to keep guard, even accidental transference…” He shook his head grimly. “The variables are too many. And even one incident, judging from what we have just heard here today, would be sufficient to compromise global security. No one could ever put the genie back in the bottle.”

  “Dr. Cato,” the President asked, “what do your computer models project might happen if even a few of these species reached the outside world?”

  Dr. Cato nodded at Nell and she clicked a handheld mouse that put a new graphic on the screen.

  Next to a silhouette of each Henders organism was a computer-generated globe over which spread a series of graphic wildfires from different points of origin: Portland, Los Angeles, Panama, Sydney, Nagoya, Hong Kong, Kiev, Morocco, Durban, Salerno, Marseilles, Portsmouth, New York Harbor. The spreading crimson waves left a blackened Earth that represented total extinction of native species. A date ticked in the lower right corner showing the estimated year that each species tested would cause global collapse: 2037, 2039, 2042, 2051.

  Nell gestured at the terrifying countdown. “Computer models generated by the Enterprise team have predicted that any one of these species could be enough to topple our ecosystem like a house of cards.”

  “God help us,” muttered one of the Navy brass. Someone else cursed softly.

  “Mr. President,” Nell said, “to the native life on Henders Is land, the rest of the world is a banquet table. Not even our parasites, microbes, or viruses have been able to invade this island. Most Henders species can alter the pH levels of their blood chemistry almost instantaneously in response to infection. They have existed, on a continuum, much longer than any animals in our biosphere. They have survived atmospheric changes, ice ages, global warmings, and extinction events that replaced the dominant species on the rest of the planet half a dozen times over. If any of these animals made it off the island…” Geoffrey saw the intensity in her eyes as she addressed the President on the conference screen, “virtually no other ecosystem on Earth could survive it.”

  “Fuck me!” exclaimed Sir Nigel. “Apologies, Mr. President.”

  “It is extremely doubtful that we could survive it, either, Nigel,” said Dr. Livingstone.

  Geoffrey raised a hand. “I still can’t believe there aren’t any species that don’t pose a threat here. I just got here, so I may be speaking out of turn, but, surely, something must be benign on this island and can be preserved in controlled conditions for future study! I have to agree with Dr. Redmond: computer models and algorithmic projections seem like a pretty flimsy standard of evidence when you’re condemning an entire ecosystem.”

  “I’m interested in preserving any life that we can here, Dr. Binswanger, and that’s one of the reasons you are here,” the President told him. “Ladies and gentlemen, unfortunately, we have precious little time. Mr. Secretary, I’d like you to fill everyone in on recent developments.”

  The Secretary of State did not look comfortable with the President’s request. He cleared his throat after a stern nod from the Commander-in-Chief “We have already had to rebuff Chinese and Russian warships from this area, and both of these confrontations have been… hairy, I think is the word I’m officially allowed to use.”

  The scientists present registered disgust at the military brinksmanship.

  The military brass looked grim.

  “The British are claiming this island as their territory since it is named after a captain in the Royal Navy who discovered it 220 years ago—we have respected that position and so have included eminent British scientists in the investigation team. However, this quarantine we have imposed is hatching conspiracy theories. It is also fomenting a worldwide diplomatic backlash against the United States and Britain. International relations are rapidly reaching an unsustainable level of destabilization.” The Secretary looked at the President. “We must decide if we should sterilize the site with a tactical nuclear weapon. And we must decide now. The human race may never have another window of opportunity.”

  An eruption of furious exclamations burst from the scientists.

  “Dr. Duckworth,” the President said, ignoring the interruptions.

  Nell was startled at the acknowledgment. “Yes, sir?”

  “You were the first person to witness these species. You are also one of only two who survived that first encounter. You have experienced firsthand the destruction the life forms on this island are capable of. What is your recommendation?”

  “Nuke the island,” she answered without hesitation, astonishing herself with her bluntness. Her cheeks colored faintly, but her gaze met that of the man on the screen steadily and without flinching.

  The scientists around the table gasped. Geoffrey was stunned that a colleague would take such a position; most of the military appeared gratified by Nell’s bald statement.

  “And how do we know nuking it won’t blow pollen or regenerative cells from its organisms into the stratosphere?” Geoffrey demanded, standing. “How do these organisms reproduce? We could be spreading the threat across the entire biosphere!” He crossed angry glances with Nell as he sat back down.

  “Mr. President,” interrupted the Secretary of Defense, “we had a chance to destroy smallpox forever, and we know now that the Russians didn’t do it and we didn’t either, just in case the disease might be used as a weapon. Now we chase rumors that terrorists may well have gotten their hands on it. I do not like the idea of what terrorists might do with a few samples of life like this!”

  “How do these animals reproduce, Dr. Cato?” the President wanted to know. “Is there any danger that a nuclear weapon could spread these organisms beyond this island?”

  Dr. Cato shook his head. “There is nothing to suggest anything here procreates by means of pollen. That’s one of the reasons it has remained biologically isolated. All the animals on the island appear to be hermaphrodites that mate once for life and reproduce indefinitely. Even the plantlike life produces eggs that stick to mobile organisms for only a few seconds before falling off. That’s why birds have never transported species off the island.”

  “Is there any species that is benign, as Dr. Binswanger suggests?”

  “All of these creatures have been swimming in the same shrinking pond, so to speak, Mr. President,” Dr. Livingstone replied. “I’m afraid that to make it here they’ve had to become tougher than any common Earth species—far tougher, in fact.”

  Geoffrey suddenly noticed a light outside the window, flashing about halfway up the north slope.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the President said, “I’m afraid I cannot, in good
conscience, allow even the American government to have the opportunity to weaponize life from this island. The results could be catastrophic.”

  Thatcher rose now, his face flushed with anger. “Mr. President! If we destroy this ecosystem we will be committing the greatest crime in the history of the planet. And we will only be foreshadowing what we are well on the way to doing to our own world, as well. Nothing could illustrate the thesis of my book more vividly than such a wanton and total annihilation of a completely unique branch of life purely for our own selfish benefit!”

  The man in Washington did not flinch. “It may surprise you to know that I accept your verdict, Dr. Redmond. And I won’t stop you from yelling it from the mountaintops, either. Unfortunately, the question is which crime to commit, not whether to commit one. I do hope I have your sympathy, if not your agreement, on that. Because I sincerely wish to have it.”

  “I’m not sure I can give it to you, sir,” Thatcher retorted, glaring at Cato. “I think this atrocity will only prove humans far more dangerous than anything on this island. I’m sure Dr. Binswanger agrees with me!”

  Geoffrey heard Thatcher with irritation, but he said nothing. The flashes on the ridge, he thought, were not an accidental trick of light: they appeared to be a regular and repeating signal. But from whom?

  “Nevertheless, Dr. Redmond,” the President said, “my responsibility and allegiance must be to the human race and the life forms that sustain it. I’m afraid I must give the order to sterilize Henders Island, within forty-eight hours. This should allow twenty-four hours for final specimen collection and documentation of the island and twenty-four hours to evacuate and achieve a safe distance from the blast. I will not impose a gag order on any of you after this matter is resolved. I will not silence academic debate, even though I realize that I will probably be eternally condemned for this decision, especially by the scientific community. The notion that a President should put a limit on the appetite of science, which by its very nature must be limitless, is against everything I believe in. But to put a limit on nature itself is an even more grievous and permanent act of destruction. That is the burden I have to bear alone. I caution you all now, however, that you should understand how seriously this course of action will be carried out.”

  Geoffrey nudged Nell urgently, pointing to the flashing light on the far slope. Nell could not imagine why he was distracting her at a moment like this but she turned, angrily, toward the ridge to which he pointed.

  “Any attempt to smuggle life off Henders Island will be met with deadly force, with no questions asked,” the President pronounced. “In the interest of science, however, we must collect as many euthanized specimens as possible in the time that we have left. Dr. Binswanger, I fervently hope that you and your colleagues can find a benign species that can preserve a living legacy of this world for future generations. But any live specimens must be put under the heaviest guard. They can be transported for off-site observation only after approval by Dr. Cato, the joint chiefs, and myself. And such specimens, if they are found and verified, may only be transported to the U.S.S. Philippine Sea for quarantine. Is that understood, Dr. Binswanger?”

  Nell mouthed the Morse code as she read the flashing light on the distant ridge. S… O…

  “I’m sorry, Mr. President,” Geoffrey said, rising. “There seems to be a signal, sir, on the north ridge of the island!”

  “It’s an S.O.S.!” Nell confirmed, rising beside him.

  The room broke into commotion as everyone turned toward the window. The light blinked on a step of what looked like a stairway of rock reaching out of the dripping jungle, halfway up the northern slope.

  “Well! Thank God. Let’s get a rescue party over there pronto, people,” the President ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” Dr. Cato said. He turned to Nell, but she was staring at the flashing light, her face pale with desperation.

  “You have twenty-four hours, people,” the President said. “I hope that we will all use them well, and that God may forgive us for what we are now called upon to do. Godspeed!”

  The screen went black. Then everyone rose and rushed from the room.

  5:59 P.M.

  Geoffrey followed Nell. She seemed to be ignoring him now as she strode behind the others through the clogged corridors to the hatch.

  “Wait, Nell! Where are you going?”

  “Out there.”

  Several other scientists had started zipping into hazmat suits. She reached for the hatch control console on the wall.

  “Hey, aren’t you going to suit up?”

  “No feedbag for me, thanks. Anyway, the only reason to wear them was to protect the island from our germs, and that’s a moot point now. I see the military stopped wearing them a while ago.”

  “Yeah,” one Army staffer said. “Some of the scientists like to wear them.”

  Sir Nigel Holscombe, who had started zipping in with his camera crew, overheard them. “Balls!” he said. “If she’s not wearing one, I’m not wearing one!”

  A wave of zippers unzipping followed as the others stepped out of their suits.

  Thatcher and several others crushed into the air hatch. Geoffrey was pressed up against Nell’s back as more squeezed in behind him.

  “Still there?” she asked as the hatch was closed.

  Her icy tone made him wince. “Everything I know about successful ecosystems suggests that they evolve toward cooperation and away from predation,” he said to her stiffened back.

  “You can’t be a vegetarian if there aren’t any plants.”

  Thatcher overheard them from the back of the airlock, having squeezed in at the last second.

  “But the growth on the fields,” Geoffrey said. “Something must eat that?”

  “Everything eats that, and it eats everything. Everything eats everything here.”

  “That’s impossible!”

  “On Henders Island, Dr. Binswanger, I’m afraid you have to think outside the box,” Nell said crisply, as the outer hatch unsealed and opened. “Either that or you better stay in the box and hope like hell nothing gets in.”

  She strode out onto the path outside without turning back to see if he was following.

  6:01 P.M.

  Army personnel were mobilizing within the base perimeter. They were assembling a search-and-rescue convoy to investigate the distress signal, which still flashed steadily on the island’s northern slope.

  The challenge lay in bringing a ground vehicle to the survivor. Two helicopter teams searched the craggy jungled slope, but so far had been unable to spot the source of the signal. And besides, helicopters were forbidden to land, drop anyone down, or pick anyone up. Dangling from a rope over Henders Island had proven to be a fatal mistake.

  Under the saltwater drizzle of the fountains, scientists and soldiers hurriedly prepared for a last blitz of specimen collecting. They loaded saltwater tanks and cannons, aluminum specimen traps, and as much video and scientific equipment as they could cram into the remaining Humvees. They ran hunched over, shielding the gear and their eyes from the rain of seawater, as they quickly fueled and loaded the train of vehicles.

  The High Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicles, or Humvees for short, had been fitted with “Mattracks,” individual tank treads for each wheel that made them sit a few feet higher off the ground than they would have with tires. An engineer had designed Mattracks after his eleven-year-old son Matt drew a picture of a truck equipped with tank-treads on each wheel. Young Matt’s idea had turned out to be quite ingenious. The tracks could be retrofitted to any vehicle, and the treads chewed through rough, flooded, and steep terrain with equal ease. The U.S. military had gleefully bolted them onto nearly every kind of field vehicle in their fleet. Only Mattrack-fitted Humvees had been airlifted to Henders Island after the disaster with the XATV-9’s tires, which had led to the deaths of two scientists, a diplomat, and their driver.

  The three Humvees assigned to investigate the distress signal were ready to roll at the h
ead of the line. Behind them, Sir Nigel Holscombe and his camera crews frantically loaded their two Hummers.

  Nell climbed into the backseat of the first Hummer, and Thatcher followed her. Thatcher smelled a triumphant sequel to his book, and the prospect of that payoff charged his soul with a form of courage: nothing could stop him from tagging along on this expedition.

  Geoffrey opened the door on the right side of the Hummer and climbed in next to Nell. “Mind if I join you? Oh, hello, Thatcher.”

  “Still hoping for a benign species?” the botanist asked.

  Geoffrey smiled. “Nell, it just seems impossible to me that something from this island can’t be preserved.”

  “I felt the same way, Geoffrey. I don’t anymore,” she said. “More than a dozen people I knew have been killed on this island. If you expect me to apologize for wanting it nuked, forget it.”

  The driver barked responses into the radio. He wore green camouflaged Army fatigues, body armor, and a helmet. Nell saw him kiss a gold crucifix that hung around his neck and tuck it under his armored vest.

  Then she recognized the man sitting in the shotgun seat, holding a camcorder. The cameraman also wore body armor and Nell noticed the NASA headband camera on the photographer’s head with the viewfinder retracted over his ear.

  She tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Hey, Nell!” Zero Monroe shouted, and he turned toward her with a big grin.

  “Back for more?”

  “You, too, darlin’?”

  Nell squeezed his arm. “You OK?”

  “Yeah. They patched me up. The poison wore off. I can even move my leg again.” He laughed.

  “Does Cynthea know you’re here?”

  “No, not this time—when I heard this was going down I came straight from the Enterprise sick bay.”

  “Somebody’s out there,” she said softly.

  “I know.” He nodded. “I keep wondering if someone survived that first day… But that’s impossible.” He shook his head, grimacing, remembering the sound of the shrieks inside the crevasse.