Extinction 2038

by P. R. Garcia

  Without waiting for an introduction, Professor Graves marched right over to the Admiral, who was talking with the stranger. The professor was so intent on his course that he didn’t even notice that his two students had been prevented from entering the room. “Admiral, I demand you take me to the Australian Station immediately,” the professor butted in, not even waiting for a break in the conversation.

  “We were just discussing that very idea, mate,” the stranger stated.

  “And you are?” Professor Graves questioned.

  “Dr. Quartermaine,” the stranger replied, holding out his hand. “Lachlan Quartermaine from Brisbane. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.” When Professor Graves hesitated to take the stranger’s hand, Dr. Quartermaine took the professor’s and shook it vigorously. “You can call me Dr. Q if you like.”

  “I’d like to get back to Antarctica,” Professor Graves responded, ignoring the stranger once more. “Admiral, I do insist.”

  “Then I suggest you have a seat, Professor,” the Admiral said. “And, if I were you, I’d listen to what this man has to say.”

  “I don’t even know who he is,” the professor angrily replied.

  “He’s only the top pathologist in the world,” the Admiral stated. “Specializing in ancient pathogens of Earth. If anyone can solve the predicament Professors Stevens’ team is in, it's this gentleman.”

  Professor Graves stared again at the stranger. How could anyone that looked that rumpled be an expert in anything?

  “You’ll have to forgive the way I look, mate,” Dr. Q stated, imagining what the professor must think of his outward appearance. “They pulled me off of a dig in the Outback. Didn’t even get a chance to change my clothes or comb my hair.”

  “Might you be the same Dr. Quartermaine that wrote that paper last year on the possible dangers existing within mummified dinosaur skeletons?” Professor Graves asked.

  “Guilty,” Dr. Q replied, a broad grin on his face. “But I never even considered what might be inside a frozen one. Probably because I never thought one was possible.”

  “Kathy, you’re writing your thesis on some of his work,” Professor Graves stated. He looked around to see both Jimmy and Kathy had been detained outside the room. “Admiral, might my team be allowed inside.”

  The Admiral looked at Dr. Q. “The more, the better,” Dr. Q replied. “Those two have to be the top in their field, or the professor would not have brought them down here. I have found young, eager minds are capable of thinking of things we never imagine.”

  “Let them in,” the Admiral ordered the sailor at the door.

  Jimmy and Kathy rushed in, practically running to the doctor. “Dr. Quartermaine, this is such an honor,” Kathy stated.

  “You can oooo and ah over the good Doctor later,” the Admiral said. “If everyone would sit down, we’ll get this meeting started. So that everyone’s on the same page, Captain Willis, if you will tell us what you observed upon arriving at Dr. Stevens’ Station.” The pilot stated what he had seen, after which Professor Graves reported on his encounter with Professors Stevens and Dilbert. He looked at his watch, lastly commented that the professors were going to call him at nineteen hundred hours. It was now seventeen twenty-eight hours.

  “Professor Graves, you stated that Professor Dilbert was displaying no signs of infection,” Dr. Q said. “Is that correct?”

  “Yes. Professor Stevens said she was showing no symptoms.”

  “Could she be immune? the Admiral asked.

  “Unknown,” Dr. Q replied. “And if she is, without knowing if the pathogen is a virus, bacteria or disease, it’s impossible to say why she is immune. You also said the first student died within twenty minutes of exposure. Is that also true?”

  “Yes,” a sorrowful Professor Graves answered.

  “Nothing in nature kills that fast,” the Admiral said.

  “That is not entirely accurate,” Dr. Q said. “There are venoms which can kill within minutes. And some nerve gases were known to kill their victims within one to ten minutes. It is not the time until death that has me concerned. It’s the duration of time BETWEEN deaths. If all were exposed at the same time, why did some die sooner and others later? Why is Professor Stevens just now becoming ill? And why isn’t Professor Dilbert? We need answers to these questions and more. As Professor Graves has said, it is imperative that we get to the Australian Station immediately and talk with the professors.”

  “Thankfully, during this time of year, the days are long in Antarctica,” Captain Willis stated. “My chopper can be refueled and ready to go within the hour.”

  “Who do you need on your team, Dr. Q?” the Admiral asked.

  “Professor Graves for sure,” Dr. Q replied. “And, if possible, I’d like to send for Dr. Silvas. She is a world leader in infectious disease and containing outbreaks.”

  “Outbreaks?” the Admiral asked, a tone of concern in his voice. “I thought this was contained at the Station.”

  “Right now, Admiral, we have no idea how this pathogen is spread,” Dr. Q answered. “When the Stevosaurus’ body started to thaw, it is probable that some of the pathogens were released into the surrounding ground ice. Those particles could be washed into the ocean, spread across the waves, infecting others, including fish that would then be eaten by men or other carnivores. If one land animal becomes infected, it could easily spread across the globe.”

  “What are the projections for that?” the Admiral asked.

  “Again, without knowing what this is, I cannot say for certain,” Dr. Q answered. “But judging from what I have heard, I estimate the probability of a worldwide epidemic at ninety-two percent.”

  “You’re joking?” the Admiral asked, a horrified look on his face. He turned to look at Professor Graves who nodded his head in agreement. “What can we do?”

  “Monitor every newspaper, news broadcast, neighborhood gossip,” Dr. Q said. “I need to be notified immediately of any unusual incidents, missing people, unexplained deaths, plus any sudden deaths of birds, rats, cats and dogs.”

  “Do you think it could spread to animals?” Kathy asked.

  “Again, there is no way to know,” Dr. Q replied. “But I do know one thing. I need to go out and inspect the Stevosaurus site and see what contamination has occurred.” He saw the shocked looked on the Admiral's face. “Don’t worry, Sir, I have the best biohazard suit imaginable. It’s five times better than the suits the CDC uses when investigating their most lethal pathogens such as SARS, the Marburg virus, the Oxim virus and Ebola. And, I assure you, I will not stay a second longer than necessary and will take all decontamination precautions. Now, Professor Graves, what about your students? They may either come with us or remain here on the ship. I imagine that due to the secrecy of this incident they will not be allowed to leave confinement for some time or have contact with the outside world.”

  Professor Graves looked at his two students. Unlike Professor Stevens’ students, his were still alive – and he wanted them to remain that way. But the doctor was right. They would be confined to the ship for possibly months. “I can’t promise you that you’ll be safe if you come with me,” he told the two. “There is no shame in remaining on the U.S.S. Barack Obama. In fact, I’d prefer if you did. But, as a fellow scientist, I cannot deny you the opportunity to help with this problem, especially since it may affect the entire world.”

  “I’d like to come along,” Kathy quickly replied. “I am familiar with Dr. Q’s work and believe I can be a great asset to the mission.”

  “Same here,” Jimmy answered. “Better to die trying to save the world than hiding out here in my bunk. Just let me take my Dramamine before we take off so I don’t get airsick again.”

  Dr. Q laughed. “I believe, Admiral, we have our team minus one Dr. Silvas, whom I believe is already in route.”

  “I haven’t given my okay on her assignment,” the Admiral chastised.

  “But I knew you would,” Dr. Q laughed. “Expect her arrival
in eleven hours.”

  “Excuse me, Admiral,” a young ensign stated as he walked into the room. “We received a response back from the Australian government.” He handed his superior a sealed white envelope.

  The Admiral tore open the communique and read the Australian response. “The Australian government has given us permission to use their Science Station. Anything we need is ours. There are also sending their own scientist, a Dr. Flanagan.”

  “Great,” grumbled Dr. Q.

  “You know her?” Professor Graves asked.

  “Unfortunately. She’s my baby sister. Flanagan is her married name.”

  “I will also be adding my own liaison to the team,” the Admiral announced. “Captain Willis will remain with you. He has complete authority over you all, even you, Dr. Q. You are to do whatever he instructs in matters of your safety. At the first sign of contamination, he will fly you out of the area. Is that understood, Dr. Q, Professor Graves?”

  “Agreed,” both men replied.

  ___________

  After dropping Jimmy and Kathy and their equipment at the Australian Station, Captain Willis flew Dr. Q and Professor Graves to the dig site. Since they had already missed Dr. Stevens’ call, both decided it best to start where it all began. They could get the particulars of the radio conversation upon their return. Because of the danger, Dr. Q wanted to go alone, but Professor Graves insisted a paleontologist was also needed.

  Captain Willis flew over the site. It looked exactly the same as it did when Captain Willis had flown over it earlier: one collapsed tent and one half-standing tent. As he titled the plane slightly to the right for a better view, he noticed striations of pink and green running through the snow. Blood and body liquids from the melting and probably decaying dinosaur?

  Dr. Q only had two of his specialized biohazard suits; one for Professor Graves and himself. That meant that Captain Willis had to wear a CDC maximum exposure suit. Fearing the Captain’s suit was not advanced enough to protect him from whatever the dinosaur contained, he instructed their pilot to land the helicopter two miles from the dig site. Dr. Q and the professor would travel the remainder of the distance by snowmobile, which was secured to the side of the aircraft. While they were gone, the Captain would construct a decontamination tent where the two would hopefully rid themselves of any pathogens. They would shed their suits, place them in secured containers and drench themselves in a decontamination solvent. At least that was the plan. Unfortunately, due to the extreme cold, the solution could not be liquid. A powder formula was substituted.

  After an hour and a half, the two arrived at the dig site. They entered the still half-standing tent, carefully stepping over tinted snow and chunks of Stevosaurus meat. Other than a few flasks and broken bottles scattered across the ground, there was no indication there had once been a dig site with a supplied lab occupying the area. Dr. Q noticed several blotches of red liquid in the snow. As he walked over to the spots, he saw the tire tracks of the snowcat. More than likely the red colored snow was the blood from the two students who first became ill. Using a spoon he found, he carefully scraped the frozen liquid into a specimen bottle.

  “Looks like blood,” Dr. Q stated, handing Professor Graves several specimen bottles. “Collect some of flesh pieces lying about. I’ll collect the stained snow.”

  “Any idea where the corpse is located?” Dr. Q asked as he began to collect his samples.

  “Not entirely sure,” the professor replied. “But if Professor Stevens followed standard field research techniques, the two smaller tents would have been to the right of the dig.” He looked out over the ground and pointed. “There, that stake in the snow. That should be the lower right corner.” He looked further south. “There’s another one over there.” Facing west, he outstretched his arms in front of him, raising them up and down. “This area here should be where the Stevosaurus is housed.”

  Dr. Q walked over to the snowmobile and removed two shovels. He handed one to the professor. “Guess it’s time to dig.”

  “There should be a tarp over the body,” Professor Graves said. “Look for anything that resembles a tarp. Dig there.”

  Both men were able to find a section of tarp and began to dig. But the ground was frozen and unyielding. They tried pulling on the tarp, but it too was frozen and would not give up its secret.

  “We’re going to need more strength than the two of us have,” the doctor stated, resting his head on this shovel handle. “I wish we could bring the chopper in to help.”

  “We might not need to,” Professor Graves stated as he ran to the snowmobile and retrieved a rope from the side compartment. “I was hoping there might be one of these inside. Maybe if we tie one end to the tarp and the other end to the snowmobile, we can pull the tarp away. At least enough to see what’s under it.”

  “Worth a try,” the doctor said. He grabbed one end of the rope and tied it to the snowmobile. Once Professor Graves had the cord connected to the tarp Dr. Q started the engine and moved the snowmobile forward. It whined and groaned against the strain of the stuck canvas. Figuring it was all or nothing, Dr. Q revved up the engines and gave the vehicle all he could. It bucked, jumping off the ground at it tried to speed forward. Just as he feared it was hopeless, the tarp pulled free to reveal an empty pit.

  “Where’s the dang body?” Dr. Q asked.

  “I don’t know,” Professor Graves stated. “It should have been in the pit.” Dr. Q bent down and plucked something from the loose snow inside. “What’s that?”

  “A cigarette,” he answered. “Hand rolled, it appears. Would anyone on Professor Stevens’ team have smoked out here?”

  “Never,” the professor replied. “All are seasoned archaeologists. They would never contaminate a site like that. Especially one this important.”

  “Well, someone did,” the doctor added. He walked a few yards away and bent down, examining the ground. “Look here. Tire tracks from something big. It appears that while the good professors and students were back at the Station dying, someone came and stole their find.”

  “I don’t see anything,” Professor Graves said, staring intently at the ground.

  “I did a lot of tracking in the Outback when I was young,” Dr. Q stated. “My grandfather is an Aboriginal Australian, and he taught me everything he knew. These are tire marks. Whoever was smoking that cigarette took your precious corpse away in a snow tractor. Who else knew of the discovery?”

  “No one. We made sure it was kept a secret. Professor Stevens knew others might try to steal his find. And on the black-market, that body is worth a fortune.”

  “Apparently someone leaked something,” the doctor replied, following the tire tracks toward the ocean. “Let’s get back to the helicopter. Perhaps we’ll be in luck, and they haven’t reached the coast yet.”

  “Wait, Lachlan,” Professor Graves said, reaching out and grabbing the doctor’s arm while looking down at the biohazard container he carried. “If that flesh from that dinosaur is as deadly as we fear, we can’t chance taking it back with us to the Station or the ship. We could kill everyone.”

  “But we need to study it,” Dr. Q replied. “We have to determine what it is.”

  “I agree,” Professor Graves said. “But we can’t take the necessary precautions out here. It has to be done at the CDC where they can investigate it in a clean room using every known precaution. Just like when they examine the Ebola virus.”

  “You’re right,” the doctor sighed. He so wanted to examine this bad boy, see what it was, what made it tick. But unless he wanted to leave and go to the mainland to study it in the proper conditions, he’d have to leave its mysteries for others to discover. He walked over, picked up a shovel and dug a small hole. After placing the container inside, he covered the hole with snow, tagging the location with a pole and red flag. “We’ll leave it here for the moment. I’ll contact Dr. Silvas and arrange for it to be picked up and flown to the CDC for study. Now, on to the coast.”

  “
You really think they took the body to the coast?”

  “How else would you get a secret prehistoric corpse off of the continent without being seen?” Dr. Q asked. “Boats aren’t detectable like planes are. Any idea when the last time was Professor Stephens was out here?”

  “The message we got about needing a new generator was six days ago,” Professor Graves responded. “I imagine it was that day or the day after that whatever happened out here happened, and they started dying.”

  “Five to six days,” Dr. Q said, mostly to himself as he thought of the possibilities. “It that time span they could be anywhere in the southern hemisphere. And if they went to a port and flew it out, they could be anywhere in the world.”

  “Heaven help us all,” the professor stated.

  “Of course we might get lucky, and the Stevosaurus will kill everyone who took it before they can smuggle it out,” the doctor said.

  “Well, that’s a cheery thought,” Professor Graves chastised.

  “Not cheery, just logical,” Dr. Q stated. “It the pathogen killed Professor Stevens’ students that fast, chances are it will kill the smugglers just as fast, or faster. Besides, like it or not, their deaths may be the only thing that keeps this thing from spreading.”

  The two made the long journey back to the waiting chopper in silence, their worst fears now realized. The body filled with a lethal concoction was somewhere in the world. Both wondered how long before they received notice of the first fatalities. Upon their arrival, they quickly entered the small tent Captain Willis had erected, shed their contamination suits, dusted them and themselves with the decontamination powder, bagged their suits and hopped into the helicopter.