Extinction 2038

by P. R. Garcia

  “Thank you, Lieutenant? Captain?”

  The main chuckled. “I am Lt. Montgomery, Mr. Fitzpatrick. Come, we must leave before we are detected.”

  “I can assure you there is nothing alive around here except us,” Walter advised them as he continued towards the ship.

  “That may be true, but we saw lights not more than fifteen miles from this location,” the Captain reported. “It appeared to be some kind of camp. We don’t know if it was a military operation or not, but they did have weapons. We need to get out of here. Plus, it is imperative that we reach the ocean’s safety before the sun rises and gives us away. I’d hate to have made it this far only to get shot down at the end.”

  Without a word, Walter ran the rest of the way to the Airlander, jumping inside and following another crew member to his designated confinement. Doing as told, he took his seat and strapped himself into a seat bolted to the wall. The first two cages brought aboard were strapped down on the floor in the middle of the room. Before long, the soldiers entered with the other vulture and his box.

  “There are food and water inside the box on the counter,” one of the soldiers stated. “But you need to remain buckled in your seat until the Captain announces it’s okay to move about.”

  “Understood,” Walter replied.

  The soldier left, locking the door behind him. Walter looked around the room. It was pretty sparse: a table and two chairs over by the windows, three bolted chairs on the side wall one of which he was sitting in, a bed and another door, presumably the bathroom. He had been looking forward to the company of men, but it appeared his isolation was to last a little longer with only the three vultures to keep him company. It was going to be a long ride to the United States. Dang, he wondered if he’d be in solitary confinement with the birds once they reached the lab too.

  Walter looked down at his watch. Ten minutes had passed since he sat down. He was starving, wondering what waited for him inside the food box. Had they taken off? He hadn’t felt any movement or heard any sounds. But then, he never heard the Airlander’s arrival. And if they were on their way, when was the Captain going to give the all clear?

  “Hello, can anyone hear me?” he shouted.

  To his surprise, a voice replied, from where he didn’t know. “Do you need something, Mr. Fitzpatrick?”

  “Is there a problem? Why haven’t we lifted off?”

  “We’ve been in the air for nine minutes now,” came the voice.

  “Oh, I didn’t know,” Walter replied. “The ship is so quiet, so smooth that I thought we were still on the ground. Can I get up and get something to eat?”

  “Yes, Mr. Fitzpatrick,” came the voice. “The Captain has just indicated that it is okay to move about.”

  “It’s Walter,” the rescued biologist stated as he unbuckled his seatbelt and dashed over to the food. There was an assortment of cheeses, sandwiches, coffee and water. And several cupcakes, something that was a nice surprise. At least they’d make his isolation more bearable.

  “If you need anything, Walter, just ask. We’ll be monitoring the room,” came the voice once more. “We’ll advise you when we’ve reached the ocean. The windows on the port side offer a beautiful view of the night sky if you’re so inclined.”

  “Thank you,” Walter replied. He piled a plate full of sandwiches and cheeses, grabbed two bottles of water, a coffee cup and the carafe of coffee. Trying not to drop anything, he juggled the items in his arms and hurried over to the recommended seat, setting everything down on the table beside the window. The first thing he did was pour himself a cup of coffee. It had been almost a week since he had run out of the brew. Taking a sip, he held it for a moment and then let it slide down his throat. Oh, what a wonderful taste. Next, he tried one of the sandwiches, then another. He devoured the food, regretting that there was nothing for the vultures. The birds had a good feed the night before, so they should be okay until they arrived at their destination. As he ate, he watched the stars slowly drift by, wondering if this was what it would be like to travel in outer space.

  The first glow of the rising sun started to peek over the horizon – just a very faint pinkish line. As the line grew brighter and wider, he began to make out different silhouettes below: outlines of umbrella thorn and baobab trees, mountains and, most importantly, the ocean before them. Even from his current altitude, there were no signs of life anywhere. Was everything in Africa dead except for him and his three vultures? But at least they had made it. His rescuers had managed to enter Kenya and extract him without being seen. Now it was on to Tennessee. He knew for sure there was life there.

  Lifting his coffee cup to his lips, Walter prepared to take another drink when suddenly the airship jerked and plunged downward, spilling the hot liquid down Walter’s face and chest. His plate slid off the table, scattering the remaining food across the floor. Another lunge upset Walter’s chair and it fell over, tumbling him onto the floor. The vultures screeched and flapped their wings. Thankfully, their cages were securely strapped to the floor and could not fall. But the ship’s movements frightened the birds, and they wanted out. Walter hoped they wouldn’t hurt themselves.

  Not sure what was happening, Walter crawled his way to the bolted chairs. Holding on tightly to keep from being thrown across the floor, he pulled himself up into one and somehow managed to buckle the seatbelt. He had just fastened it when he heard a hissing sound, like a tire losing air. At first, he thought it was the vultures, but the sound was coming from his left, not ahead where the birds were. Turning his head to better determine the hissing sound’s direction, he froze when he saw a small hole in the side of the airship – a bullet hole. Within seconds, another one appeared. Their escape had not gone undetected after all.

  ___________

  Now that they knew the fate of the Australian scientists, the three newcomers returned to the Station. This time they took the time to survey their new living quarters, amazed at how much bigger it was than the residence they had left. The cupboards and pantry were well stocked with canned, freeze-dried and boxed food. A small freezer compartment contained meat and drinking water, enough to last the previous occupants nine months. For the new occupants, it could be stretched to two years if needed. Two highly-advanced generators provided power to the building. It too was more than they would need. The central living area contained a large electric heater which kept that area, the lab and kitchen conveniently warm. Each of the four bedrooms had their own individual heaters. To keep the heaters operational, a large container of fuel was housed in a back storage room. No wonder the Aussies had planned on spending the winter there. It had all the comforts of home.

  _____________

  “Any luck reaching anyone today?” Dr. Q asked Max. As he had done several times a day for the past four days, the grad student tried to raise someone on the Australians’ computer. But the screen remained dark and silent, just like the radio. They assumed the worst - the death toll around the world had finally reached a point where there was no one left to keep up the electric grid. With its collapse so too was the internet and their only link to the outside world. Although no one said it, each wondered if they were the only three people still alive on the planet.

  “Looks like we might get an early winter storm,” Professor Dilbert commented as she washed the noontime dishes, peering out the kitchen window. She still had hope that somehow she'd see someone coming to rescue them.

  “Max, is the arctic cat secured within the shed?” Dr. Q asked.

  “Yes, Dr. Q,” Max replied. “She’s all outfitted for a long winter’s sleep. And she’ll be as good as new in the spring when we need her.” Walking over to the side window, he stared at the lonely helicopter. “I’d best go out and double check the chopper’s cables, though. Just to make sure. I sure wish I had something to cover her with or a hangar to store her in. Those Antarctica winter winds are going to tear her to pieces.”

  “Did you take everything we can use out of her?” Dr. Q asked. Since the
re was no one there who could fly the plane, they decided to strip her of any useful items, anything that would make their long winter stay more tolerable.

  “There’s wasn’t much, but I took everything I thought we might use,” Max replied as he slipped his parka on. “Be back shortly.” He exited the side door and headed towards the helicopter.

  “Have you finished compiling the results from the blood samples of the Australians and Captain Willis?” Dr. Q asked Gayle.

  She watched Max’s journey towards the aircraft. She said not a word, just kept drying the plate she held in her hand with the kitchen towel.

  “Gayle, did you hear me?”

  “What’s the use, Lachlan?” a dark voice asked. “Who’s even alive to benefit if we do find a cure?”

  “You helped me calculate the odds of how many people would survive,” Lachlan stated adamantly. “As a scientist, you know some have. There is a certain percentage of men and animals that were immune or unaffected by the virus, just like we are.”

  “In that case, they won't need a cure,” she argued.

  “But future generations might,” he argued back. “Again, you know that, Gayle.”

  She turned and stared hard into his eyes, her face rigid. “No, I don’t. And neither do you. But I’ll tell you what I do know. I know that we are never getting off of this continent. We are going to die here, alone and forgotten.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Lachlan said, his voice softened. “You can’t give up hope. I will find us a way off this land in the spring. I promise you that.”

  “An empty promise.”

  “Do you really think I came all this way, risked my life just to watch you die now?” the doctor asked. “We are going to survive and get off this continent. Then do you know what we’re going to do as soon as we’re free of this place? Do you?”

  “No.”

  “We are getting married,” Dr. Q said. “But I need you to believe it too, Gayle. Please.”

  “Hey you guys, look what I found out there,” Max stated before Gayle could answer. The grad student stepped inside with a half-grown emperor penguin tucked in his arms. “It must have gotten lost and wobbled away from the colony.”

  “Oh, you poor thing,” Gayle said, racing over to the animal, her feelings of defeat momentarily forgotten. “I bet he’s hungry.”

  “What do penguins eat?” Lachlan asked.

  “Fish,” Gayle replied.

  “I don’t think our friend will find many of them around here,” Lachlan commented. “Even though it’s summer, there’s no direct opening to the ocean here. And it’s a long walk to the shoreline.”

  “Actually, penguins can walk long distances,” Gayle called out as she ran back to the kitchen. “It’s not unusual for a colony to be seventy to eighty miles inland.”

  “The Station’s about a hundred and fifteen miles in,” Max said. “Do you think he can walk that far?”

  “I doubt it,” Gayle answered, returning with a tray of fish. “I had thawed these out for our supper tonight, but I really wasn’t in the mood for fish.” She lifted one of the fish out of the pan and held it up to the bird’s mouth. He quickly swallowed the fish, gulping it down whole. He then ate another and another. “He really is hungry!

  “And what, may I ask, are we going to eat now that our guest has eaten our supper?” Lachlan teased.

  “You were just saying last night that you were hungry for some pancakes and scrambled eggs,” Gayle replied.

  “I meant REAL eggs, not egg substitutes,” Lachlan grumbled.

  “You won’t know the difference,” Gayle smiled, petting the penguin on the head. “Can we keep him? He can be our test subject.”

  Dr. Q knew that chances were the penguin would not do well in the Station. It needed to be with the colony, close to the ocean where it could fish. But Gayle was right. He would make a good test subject to see if penguins were immune to the disease. Dr. Q had hypothesized that some birds, like the vultures, had a natural immunity to the LO virus. It was logical. Sixty-five million years ago some theropods had survived the plague and evolved into the birds we have today. Modern birds evolved from the same ancestor, so some must carry the immunity. But not all birds. He already knew that crows, hawks, owls, robins, falcons and a few other varieties had died. But where would the penguin fall on the survival grid? Besides, even if the bird offered no scientific importance, the twinkle in Gayle’s eyes was reason enough to keep the aquatic bird. It was the first he had seen since his arrival. Perhaps the little visitor could give her something he could not – hope. “I suppose he can stay for a few days. But before you agree to keep him, you must realize that this place is filled with the LO virus. There are seven bodies in the back shed filled with it. And we too may be carriers. We may be sentencing him to death by keeping him.”

  “Or assuring that he lives,” Max stated as he put the bird on the floor. “He’d die for sure outside, being so far away from any food supply. At least here he has some chance.” The bird took several waddles forward then stopped. His body gave a little shake, then it squirted out a stream of guano before waddling off again.

  “He’ll definitely have to be house trained, though.” Dr. Q titled his head down slightly and looked at Gayle, signaling poop patrol was going to be her duty. Her pet, her job. Suddenly, a thought began to form in the doctor’s mind. The penguins! Of course. That could be their solution to finding out what was happening. The Australians were there to study the penguins and had planned on doing so right through the winter. That meant they were relying on satellites to observe the colony. “Max, do satellites run on the same system as the internet?”

  “No. It’s on an entirely different system,” Max replied. A smile spread across his face as he realized what the doctor was insinuating. He ran over to the computer. “A system we can tap into and see what’s going on in the world. Maybe even communicate with someone. I just have to find out what frequency they were using.”

  It only took Max five minutes to locate the satellite program, but their excitement was quickly banished when they realized a secret code was needed to activate the program. Max began to search the desk drawers and cubbyholes for the code, tossing scraps of paper aside if they contained the wrong information. Before long, he had a small pile accumulated on the desk and floor. Frustrated, he stood and started to walk around the room, softly pounding his fists into his head.

  “Think, Max, think. Where did Dylan keep his access codes?” Afraid to interrupt his thinking, Dr. Q and Professor Dilbert watched in silence the young male pace around the room. Even their new guest, the penguin, watched in silence. Suddenly, Max stopped. “I remember I asked Dylan if he could show me the Falkland Islands. He sat down at the computer. I pulled up a chair and sat beside him. When the screen asked for his password, he…he…” The two humans and bird watched anxiously. “He reached for something on the desk, but I can’t remember what.”

  “I’m sure you’ll think of it,” Gayle stated, hiding her disappointment.

  “Has anyone removed anything from the desk?” Lachlan asked.

  “I removed some papers and a few books,” Max answered. “Everything’s in that box in the corner. It was just information about the penguins, some drawings and their calendar. Nothing of importance to us.”

  “We need that code, so I suggest we spend the rest of the day looking through that stuff,” Lachlan said.

  “Should we check his body or his room?” Gayle inquired.

  “He wouldn’t keep it on his person or in his room,” Max responded. “Since everyone needed to use the password, it was kept on the desk. That’s why I can’t understand why it’s not here.”

  “Perhaps it got moved when Dylan became ill?” Gayle suggested.

  “That would have been the worst thing to do,” Max stated. “As people got sick it was even more important that it be readily available to everyone. Why can’t I remember?”

  For the next four hours, the trio went through everyt
hing in the box and each book page-by-page. When that yielded no results, they expanded their search to the other books in the room. They rechecked every drawer, but the elusive code could not be found. After a quick dinner, the three resumed their search as the early winter storm started to rage outside. To hide the haunting sound of the wind, Lachlan turned on the CD player. To the “Greatest Hits of the Moody Blues” the three searched until it was time to retire for the evening. The last thing they did before calling it a night was to give their newest member a name. Because he had restored the twinkle in Gayle’s eyes, they called him Twinkles.

  The Station was designed for research and not couples, so even though Lachlan and Gayle shared a room, each had their own cot to sleep on. As usual, they left their bedroom door ajar in case they were needed during the night. Twenty minutes into their sleep they were awakened by a loud, honking sound. Gayle opened her eyes to see Twinkles standing beside her cot, staring at her. He honked again.

  “Maybe he’s hungry,” Gayle said as she leaped out of bed. She knew Lachlan would be none too happy to be kept awake all night by their new guest.

  “Just get him to be quiet and go to sleep,” Lachlan grumbled, rolling over on his left side away from the bird.

  Twinkles happily followed his new friend to the kitchen. Gayle offered him four fish she had thawing out for his breakfast, but he did not want them. “Do you want to go outside?” she asked. Grabbing a blanket, she wrapped it around herself on the way to the side door. When she opened the door, Twinkles stepped out, looked around and walked back inside. Apparently, he didn’t want to go outside either. “What do you want?” He just looked at her. Thinking perhaps he needed a specific area to sleep, she fixed up a small box beside the bookshelf, filling it with several towels and an old shirt. She lifted the penguin up and placed him inside. “There you go. Now you have a good night’s rest.” Believing the problem was solved, Gayle returned to her room and crawled back into her own cot, pulling the covers tightly around her chilled body. It wasn’t long before the night’s silence was broken by Twinkles’ honk. Afraid he was back, Gayle opened her eyes to see Twinkle’s standing beside the cot. He honked again.