Extinction 2038

by P. R. Garcia

  Dr. Q explained to the pilot his theory that the Stevosaurus had been stolen and how it was being transported. He directed the pilot to where he believed the tractor tracks would be visible from the air. He was correct. Just a short ways from the dig site the ground was not as frozen. Clearly visible was a set of tracks heading towards the open ocean. They followed the trail until the snow ended, then continued across the rocky ground to a beach. There in the wet sand, the tracks ended. The four scanned the ocean before them. It was a bright day, and visibility went for miles, but there was no sign of a ship. Their Stevosaurus was gone. Yet each feared its location would soon make the news.

  GREAT WHITES

  Professor Graves was surprised to see Kathy waiting for Dr. Q and him when they returned from the field. She had a concerned look on her face, which wasn’t good. He wondered if perhaps Professor Stephens had passed.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “We received a report from the Admiral about an hour ago,” Kathy replied. “I knew you and Dr. Q would want to see it immediately.” She handed the message to her professor. After reading it, he gave it to the doctor. It read:

  On November 11th, at 0-eleven hundred hours, a ship crashed into an island west of Perth, Australia. Upon investigation, it was discovered all the crew was dead. Cause unknown. Symptoms: crew bled to death through all orifices of their bodies. Bodies were cremated aboard the ship. Vessel destroyed. CDC has clean-up team in quarantine.

  “November eleventh. That was five days ago,” Dr. Q said. “The day after Dr. Stephens’ team was exposed.”

  “They must have been the ones who stole the Stevosaurus,” Professor Graves stated. “But there’s no mention of the dinosaur in the report.”

  “So where is it?” Dr. Q asked, rereading the communique in case he missed something. “I’ll have the Admiral contact Dr. Silvas right away. I need to make arrangements for the CDC to pick up those samples we buried. And she’ll have access to the report. We need to find out if anyone saw a dinosaur corpse on the ship. Or if their log showed they had contact with any other ship or stopped in port before crashing. ”

  “Perhaps they weren’t the ones that stole the body,” Professor Graves suggested. “Maybe they came in contact with whoever took the Stevosaurus.”

  “Let’s hope not,” Dr. Q replied. “That would mean whatever the pathogen is, it is able to be transmitted from person to person with minimal contact. No other boats have been discovered with their crews dead?”

  “Not to my knowledge,” Kathy replied.

  “If no other crews die in the next three days, I believe it would be safe to assume that this is the party that stole our dinosaur,” Dr. Q stated.

  “Ask if anyone saw a snowcat or land caterpillar on the ship,” Professor Graves said.

  “What good would that do?” Kathy asked

  “Whoever took our specimen used a land tractor to transport it to the sea,” Professor Graves answered. “Do you know if Professors Stevens or Dilbert contacted the Station at nineteen hundred as I requested?”

  “Yes. Mr. Jones, the communications officer, said Professor Dilbert called at exactly nineteen hundred hours,” Jimmy answered. “She was advised that we were in route and requested that we call back as soon as we arrived. Since neither you nor Dr. Q were here, we waited for your return to call her. Oh, she said to call no matter how late it was, that it was important that she talked with you, Professor.”

  Professor Graves looked at his watch. It was 0-one hundred. “It’s pretty late. What do you think, Dr. Q?”

  “She did say to call regardless of the time,” Dr. Q replied. “We all need our rest, but I think we could manage a short phone call.”

  “I agree,” the professor said. “Lead us to the communications area.”

  The two men followed Jimmy and Kathy to the area where the radio was kept. Lt. Rogers was manning the night shift and immediately put the call through. “We’ve only got voice,” he explained. “Apparently, when their antennae was damaged it knocked out their video capability.”

  “That’s something we need to fix,” Dr. Q commented.

  Over the speakers, the two men heard the phone ring. One ring, two rings, three rings, now four rings. Were they sleeping? She did say to call no matter how late it was. Or could the worst have happened – they were all dead. When they heard a groggy “Hello” everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Professor Dilbert, it is so wonderful to hear your voice. It’s me, Sebastien Graves. How are you doing? How are Alex and Roscoe?”

  “Good evening, Professor Graves. I am doing well. Professor Stevens is still holding his own, but he is getting weaker. As for Roscoe, I am sorry to report we lost him about an hour ago.”

  “I am sorry to hear that,” Professor Graves replied. “I can’t imagine what you are going through. I want you to know we are doing everything we can to help you two. I have a fellow scientist here with me, an expert in the field of pathology. His name is Dr. Quartermaine.”

  “How are you really doing, Sweetie?” the doctor asked in a surprisingly soft and carrying voice.

  “Lachlan, is that really you?” came a surprised voice over the speaker.

  “It’s really me,” Dr. Q answered. “Surprised to hear my voice?”

  There was a brief pause. “Not really. I should have known you’d come riding in on your white horse and save the day. I’d probably be more surprised if you weren’t there. And worried.”

  “This time my horse arrived a little too late,” Dr. Q answered, a smile on his face. How he wished he could see what she looked like, to ascertain for himself her condition. “Guess this night in shining armor is getting old.”

  “Never,” Professor Dilbert said.

  Professor Graves looked at the doctor. “You two know each other?”

  “She’s kind of my fiancée.”

  “Your fiancée?” Professor Graves shouted in surprise.

  The doctor raised his eyebrows and smiled as if such news was an everyday announcement. “Gayle, Sweetheart, I need for you to tell me everything that has happened, starting at the very beginning. Don’t leave the smallest detail out.”

  “Lachlan, this shit is so scary,” Professor Dilbert stated, fear clearly audible in her voice. “I’ve never seen anything kill so fast.”

  “I know you’re scared,” Dr. Q said. “I’m terrified too. But together we can figure this out. I need to determine if we are dealing with a virus or bacteria. I need to understand how your team was exposed and, most importantly, why you and Alex are still alive. To do that, you must tell me what happened. I want you to close your eyes. Are they closed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Take three deep breaths with me.” Dr. Q loudly inhaled, then exhaled. “One.” He repeated the process for the next two breaths. “Now count backward with me. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six . . .”

  “Five, four, three, two, one,” Professor Dilbert said.

  “Now open your eyes and tell me the story.”

  “That late winter storm knocked out our field generators,” Professor Dilbert began. “And the Stevosaurus started to defrost. We brought everyone out from the Station to help cover the cadaver with snow.” The professor continued her story of how they became exposed and the time and manner each one of their students suffered horrible deaths.

  “You said Cindy and Paul were in direct contact with the Stevosaurus’ flesh and were the first to die. Is that correct?” Professor Graves asked.

  “Yes. When Cindy fell forward her mouth was open. She got a mouthful of the Stevosaurus. I assumed that’s why she died within the hour.”

  “You can’t give us a more definite time?”

  “No. To protect the other students, Alex insisted that the two groups be isolated. The four other students and I rode in the front portion of the cat. Alex rode in the back car with Cindy and Paul. When we reached the Station, Cindy was already dead.”

  “And Paul died less than two hours after
you arrived back at the Station?”

  “Yes.”

  Dr. Q leaned close to his colleague. “Make a note to ask Professor Stevens if he can give us a rough estimate on when the student died when we talk to him.” He sat back up and looked down at the notes he had taken while his fiancée spoke. “No one else became sick until the next afternoon during lunch. Tim suddenly got a nosebleed.”

  “Yes,” an irritated and tired Gayle shouted.

  “I know you’re tired and hate reliving what you’ve gone through,” Dr. Q stated. “Just a few more minutes and we’ll be done. I just have to make sure I have the events correct. Okay? Can you hang in there?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s my girl. Two hours later Tim began to run a fever of 101F. He then started to bleed from his mouth and eyes. Three hours later he was dead. Frank and Tyron followed the next day, all showing the same symptoms. Roscoe was the last, dying a short time ago. All had temperatures at the end of 101F. Never any higher?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “Is Alex running a fever?”

  “Only a slight one. 99.6F.”

  “And no bleeding other than two nose bleeds which stopped.”

  “Correct.”

  “Just one more question, Sweetheart,” Dr. Q said. “And you need to be sure of this. Think back to when the Stevosaurus exploded. How were the six of you lined up in respect to the cadaver? We know Cindy was first, then Tim. Did the others die in order of their distance from the body?”

  There was silence as Professor Dilbert thought back to that day.

  “No,” came the answer. “Tim was driving the snowcat and was still sealed within the cab. Roscoe was behind Paul. Tyron and Frank were in the back lifting out the buckets of snow. Alex was just getting out of the cat. I was still inside it with the door closed.”

  “Damn,” Dr. Q whispered in frustration. “I had hoped they died in response to their exposure.” He raised his voice. “You did well, Sweetie. I’ve got a lot of data here to start with. You go get some sleep, and we’ll talk at, oh, let’s say, 0-eleven hundred.”

  “Okay.” She paused for a moment. “Lachlan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks again for coming.”

  “That’s my purpose of being on this Earth – to always ride in and save you. Now, goodnight. Sleep tight.”

  “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” Then silence.

  __________

  It was Michael DuPont and his family’s last vacation day in Australia. Since their flight wasn’t until ten o’clock that evening, they decided to take a final dip in the ocean. He was glad he had decided to extend their vacation by two days. It was so beautiful here. The waters were even bluer than Hawaii’s, and the beaches were the loveliest he had ever seen.

  “Smile,” Michael told his wife and two daughters, ages ten and fourteen, as he stood on the beach with his camera. “Go out a little further. About waist deep.” He waved his hand, urging them out. He wanted to get as much of the ocean as he could in the shot.

  “Ouch, something bit me,” the ten-year-old screamed. She looked down and saw a great white shark next to her leg.

  “Shark, shark,” she shouted. Michael’s wife grabbed her youngest and ran to the beach the best she could through the waves. Michael jumped in to help, pulling out his other daughter. When they were safe on shore, Michael checked his youngest daughter’s leg, expecting the worse. But there was no bite – only a scrape where the shark had brushed up against her.

  Within seconds, the screams of “shark” filled the air as the ocean churned with swimmers rushing towards the beach. As parents checked children and loved ones fussed over their other halves, it was discovered no one was injured. Thirty-two sharks had surrounded a group of bathers and did not attack. It was soon apparent why. One by one, each of the sharks popped up from beneath the water to float upon the waves. Some were dead, others were dying as their gills gulped in mouthfuls of air. Blood was oozing from their nostrils, gills, mouth and eyes. The usually beautiful blue ocean was now a bright red.

  ____________

  “Dr. Quartermaine, are you connected to everyone in this investigation?” the Admiral angrily said. Lachlan noted the reddish cast to the commander’s face. “First you inform me that Professor Flanagan is your sister, now I find out Professor Dilbert is your fiancée. You should have revealed your personal association with Professor Dilbert.”

  “And what would you have done?” the doctor asked. “And where is my sister? Shouldn’t she have arrived by now?”

  “She arrived four hours ago,” the Admiral confirmed. “She’ll arrive at the Station on the next transport. As for Professor Dilbert, I would have barred you from the investigation. And definitely forbade you to go to the Station.”

  “That’s why I did not disclose my relationship to Professor Dilbert,” the doctor replied. “But regardless of this news, I am still the best person for the job. Having a personal connection only makes me more determined to stop this thing, whatever it is.”

  “No determination if its bacteria or a virus?”

  “Not yet. Without examining the flesh of an infected host, it’s pretty impossible to make a decision. Is there any word on when Dr. Silvas will be arriving or when that special package will be picked up at the site?”

  “The package is already in route to the WHO in Manila in the Philippines,” the Admiral replied. “That was the closest World Health Organization facility, plus the Philippines have a smaller population in case of an outbreak. And would be easier to contain.”

  “Something I believe the Philippines’ government would not be too happy to hear,” Dr. Q stated.

  “As for Dr. Silvas’ arrival.” He looked over to his assistant.

  “Her latest communique said she was delayed and to expect her at 0-seven-thirty in two days.”

  “Two days?” the still angry Admiral bellowed. “What could be more important than this? And what could possibly delay her for two days?”

  “I am sure she would not be delayed unless it was important,” Dr. Q stated. “At least the package is on its way. Admiral, I need to get a message to her right away. Tell her I need a safe way to transport the two infected individuals safely off the continent and moved to a medical facility. Preferably to a ship of some kind far from human contact. Tell her we only have four, possibly five weeks to work with.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” the Admiral asked, giving the doctor an odd look of surprise. “You really think those two are going to live? And you're willing to take the chance of them infecting the entire world?”

  “No, I am not kidding, Admiral. And yes, I do plan on those two living,” a confident doctor replied. “As for infecting the world, they may be this world’s only hope. For some reason, those two professors are able to fight off whatever this thing is. If it’s a bacteria, we may be able to use their blood to create an antiserum. If it’s a virus, their body or DNA may tell us how to combat this thing.”

  “And how do you expect to get a blood sample?” the Admiral asked. “That Station is off-limits to military AND nonmilitary personnel.”

  “Although not a physician, Professor Dilbert is knowledgeable in working with microscopes,” Dr. Q answered. “I am going to walk her through how to examine blood and tissue samples. But I need to see her results. Therefore, it is imperative that the Polar Station is equipped with some sort of video capability. I have to see what she sees.”

  “I ask again, Doctor. How do you propose to do that?”

  “I don’t know. You’re the one with all the military personnel and equipment. Someone on your ship or at the Pentagon must know some way to get me video feed. Hell, if we can spy on our enemies around the world with video capability, this should be a piece of cake.”

  Dr. Q saw one of the naval officers whisper something to the Admiral. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you.”

  “If nothing out of the ordinary happens, I’ll report back
at fourteen hundred hours, Admiral,” Captain Willis said.

  “Agreed,” the Admiral replied. “And Captain, Peter got a new dog.”

  “Understood, Sir. Captain Willis signing off.” The Captain flicked off the transceiver and took a seat.

  “Wow, I’m surprised he didn’t tell you to keep an eye on me, make sure I don’t try to run over to my fiancée,” Dr. Q commented.

  “What did you think ‘Peter got a new dog’ meant?” the Captain chuckled. “That means to watch you like a hawk.”

  ____________

  “Welcome to New York,” came the captain’s voice over the intercom as the DuPont family landed at JFK airport. “It is a beautiful 76F out with a slight breeze and plenty of sunshine. Thank you for flying with us, and we hope to see you aboard American again soon.”

  “That was the longest flight,” Michael’s wife said as she stretched out her arms. “I can’t wait to get home and sleep in my own bed.” She leaned down, and gently shook her youngest daughter. “Come on, Sally. It’s time to go home. Get your bag from beneath the seat.”

  Sally groaned. “I don’t feel good, Mommy. And my leg hurts.”

  “Get your bag, and maybe Daddy will carry you,” the mother replied. Slowly, Sally scooted forward in her seat, then reached beneath the seat in front of her and retrieved her backpack. When she raised back up, blood began to drip from her nose onto her pack.

  “Mommy, blood.”

  “Michael, she’s bleeding,” the mother shouted.

  “Don’t worry,” Michael assured his wife and daughter. “We DuPont’s have weak nostril membranes. My nose still bleeds sometimes when I land, and I’ve been flying for years. It will stop soon.” He reached into his pants pocket and withdrew a handkerchief. “Just keep your head tilted back and this over your nose.” He lifted his daughter into his arms and proceeded to exit the plane. The four weary travelers made their way to baggage claim. “Honey, Sally and I will go hail a cab. You and Sandra get our bags. Does that sound okay with you, Pumpkin?” Sally gave no answer. “What, you’re asleep already?”