Extinction 2038

by P. R. Garcia

  “Gayle, please,” Lachlan sleepily said. “Put him outside and close the door.”

  Thinking perhaps his bed was too far from theirs, Gayle carried the makeshift bed down to her room and placed it in the hallway outside their door. She then put Twinkles back inside, told him to stay and closed the door. Gayle hadn’t even gotten back into bed before she heard him honk again. Then she heard the unmistakable sound of him pecking at the door, a sound intensified by the stillness of the night. She ran to the door and opened it, hoping the sound did not wake Lachlan again. As soon as the door was opened, Twinkles waddled into the room and straight over to Gayle’s cot. He honked like before.

  “I think he’s trying to tell you he wants to sleep in your bed,” Max said, now standing in the hallway, rubbing his hair as he yawned.

  Gayle gave Max a surprised look. “He’s a bird, not a puppy. Why would he want to sleep in my bed?”

  “He’s a male,” Lachlan grumbled. “All males want to be in a female’s bed.”

  “I’m not sleeping with a penguin,” Gayle firmly stated, horrified at the suggestion.

  “Either put him outside or build him a little ramp up to your bed,” Lachlan replied. “We need our sleep.”

  Gayle thought for a moment. She knew it was too cold for him to be alone outside at night. There would be no other penguins to cuddle with to keep him warm. Hoping Max and Lachlan were wrong, she begrudgingly placed some boxes beside her bed, constructing a sturdy staircase for Twinkles. Even before she had it finished, he had hopped onto the structure waiting for the last step. As soon as it was in place, Twinkles quickly hopped onto the cot and over to the pillow, lying down above it. Having no choice but to sleep with the bird, Gayle climbed into her bed for the third time.

  “Told ya,” Lachlan teased, rolling over and stretching his arm across his and her cots, placing his hand on her shoulder. He quickly removed it when Twinkles pecked it with his bill. “The little ingrate. He bit me.”

  “Sorry,” Gayle apologized. Somehow she knew this was going to be a long night. And it was. Unfortunately for all, penguins sleep only for short periods of time. Twinkles would sleep for forty-five minutes, wake up, go down the stairs and into another part of the Station. As he explored his new world, he was knocking things over, crying out when he got trapped and making a real nuisance of himself. After his shenanigans were over, he’d return to the bedroom and climb back into bed. After sleeping for thirty to fifty minutes, it started again. Other sleeping arrangements were going to have to be made.

  THE ELUSIVE PASSWORD

  Twinkles antics had everyone awake at 5:30 a.m. He was hungry. In addition to honking, he was in the kitchen knocking who-knew-what over. Apparently, he could smell the fish Gayle had left out to defrost, and he was trying to find them. The three scientists stumbled into the kitchen, appalled by the sight that met their eyes. Twinkles had trashed the kitchen.

  The moment Gayle walked into the room, Twinkles honked loudly and waddled over to her. He stretched his neck up towards her and honked, indicating he wanted food. Still half asleep, Gayle shuffled her feet over to the sink. She lifted the strainer of fish out of the water, shook the excess water off of one of the sardines and fed it to the penguin. He hungrily swallowed the fish. She repeated the process until the sardines were gone. Then she quickly shuffled him over to the side door and outside before he could leave his morning deposit on the floor again.

  Max slid his feet across the cold floor, too tired to lift them much off the ground. He was disappointed to see that there was no coffee left from the previous day. “Need coffee,” he muttered, as he placed four heaping scoops of ground coffee into the coffeemaker. Typically they used three scoops, but he figured they all needed an extra jolt this morning. Thanks to their new guest, no one got much sleep. Max grabbed a gallon of water and poured into the coffeemaker’s reservoir and hit the “on” button. Standing there waiting with his eyes closed, he drifted into a semi-awake state as he waited.

  Lachlan collapsed into the first available chair, leaning back and closing his eyes. He couldn’t remember ever being this tired. Even their long walk here had not tired him out as much as Twinkles’ nightly antics, his constant climbing in and out of Gayle’s cot, wandering around the Station knocking things over and making all kinds of racket. He regretted agreeing to keep the penguin. And now that the bird had been with them for almost twenty-four hours, Twinkles could not be returned to the colony. The threat of him bringing the virus back to the other penguins and killing them all was too high. If after a sufficient incubation period of at least two weeks Twinkles showed no signs of being sick, he could be returned to his colony. Two weeks couldn’t pass quickly enough.

  There were some advantages of having the penguin with them. At least that’s what Lachlan told himself. With the internet down, their research was almost nonexistent. They had already isolated the virus. And you could only look at blood and tissue samples of the same sixteen dead bodies and three living hosts so many times. If they were going to continue their investigation of the LO virus, they needed something new, something that would occupy their time and minds during the seven to eight months of winter. Lucky for them, that something was going to be Twinkles.

  That night, in hopes of getting some rest, Twinkles was barred from the bedroom. Twinkles was not happy. He stood outside the door, honking and bleating, pounding on the door with his beak. After thirty minutes of carrying on, he fell asleep, only to wake thirty minutes later and started his protest again. Finally, after multiple repeats of the bird complaining, Lachlan got up and opened the door. Twinkles happily waddled across the floor, hopped up the box-stairs, jumped onto the cot and snuggled into the pillow at the top of Gayle’s bed. Lachlan grabbed his blanket and went out to the couch in the living area. He was determined to get some sleep that night.

  The next morning was a repeat of the first – three drained scientists and one happy penguin. After breakfast Gayle went to take a shower in hopes it would wake her up. To her surprise, Twinkles joyfully followed. She tried to bar him from the room, but he started his loud protest vocalization again, so she allowed him in. The moment she turned on the shower, Twinkles waddled inside, ruffling his feathers, as he preened himself. Gayle sighed. Not only was she going to have to sleep with the bird, but it also appeared she was going to have to shower with him too. Later she learned that it didn’t matter who was in the shower stall. Twinkles always joined in on the fun.

  On the third night, Lachlan slept in one of the other bedrooms, leaving Gayle and Twinkles alone. As usual, Twinkles climbed up into the bed and slept for awhile, then got up and started his nightly rounds throughout the Station. It wasn’t until Gayle woke up the next morning at nine did she discover the penguin was missing. Thinking perhaps he was waiting for her in the kitchen, she hurried down the hallway. When she entered the room, there was no Twinkles. “Twinkles, where are you boy?” she softly called out, not wishing to wake the others. She searched around the kitchen and lab, looking in all the places the bird liked to hide or get into. But again, he was nowhere to be found. Thinking perhaps someone had put him outside and forgot to bring him in, she slipped on a pair of boots and her coat. Upon exiting the building, she called out Twinkles’ name. There was no response. She went back inside and began to call his name loudly, now afraid something had happened to her new friend. The fear that he had become sick with the virus and died during the night crept into her consciousness.

  Hearing her calls, both Lachlan and Max got up, each surprised at the time. Had they actually gotten a good night’s sleep? “What’s wrong, Gayle?” Lachlan asked.

  “I can’t find Twinkles,” Gayle answered. “Did either of you let him out last night?” Both men stated they hadn’t.

  “He has to be somewhere inside,” Lachlan advised, now thinking the same as Gayle, that the bird had died.

  For ten minutes the three called out the bird’s name, frantically searching each room for the elusive bird. Finally,
Gayle heard Lachlan say, “I found him.” She and Max ran down the hall toward the doctor. He was standing outside one of the storage rooms, his finger to his lips indicating for her to be quiet. “Look,” he whispered, pointing over to the left corner. It took Gayle a moment to locate her friend, for he was amongst some standing life-size replicas of Emperor penguins.

  “Penguins,” Gayle stated, a puzzled look on her face.

  “Those are the ones the Aussie team used to study the colony,” Max said. “They’re mechanical and have cameras inside. They even smell like real penguins.”

  “That’s why he’s been so attached to you,” Lachlan chuckled. “He was lonely. Emperor penguins exist in huge colonies. They are never alone when on land. They sleep huddled together to keep warm. I think we may have found the perfect bedroom for Twinkles.”

  “Do you think he’s okay?” Gayle asked. “He’s not sick?”

  Upon hearing Gayle’s voice, Twinkles opened his eyes. He took a step forward, then gave a little shiver.

  “No, no, not in here,” Gayle yelled, running forward and grabbing the penguin. Holding him at arms’ length, she ran as fast as she could towards the side door. But before she could get him outside he made his morning deposit on the floor and her foot.

  “I’d say he’s fine,” Max laughed. When he went to leave he caught sight of a group of black coffee mugs designed like Emperor penguins. Each had a white belly and golden-yellow markings around its neck and upper chest. He remembered that each member of the Australian team had one. Dylan had given him his own as a souvenir when Max commented on how much he liked the mug. That was the day Dylan had shown him the colony via the satellite. THE MUG!! Dylan had reached over and looked underneath the mug. That’s where the satellite code was written - on the bottom of his penguin mug. He now ran down the hallway, jumping over the new pile of guano Twinkles had left.

  Having sat at the computer desk for the past three days trying to find the correct password, Max knew the mug was not there. Therefore, it had to be in the cupboard. Frantically, he yanked out all the dishes in the cupboard, checking each penguin mug for the needed password. But, just as their search for Twinkles had started, it was not there.

  “Professor Dilbert, there was a penguin mug on the desk,” Max stated when Gayle returned with Twinkles. “Do you know where it is?”

  “A penguin mug?” she repeated. “Isn’t it in the cupboard?”

  “No,” Max replied. “It looks just like these, but it’s not here.”

  “I remember,” Gayle said. “It was half full of moldy, stale coffee. Since there were so many other similar mugs, I threw it out.”

  “Where?” Max shouted, rushing over to the garbage can and looking through the trash.

  “I took the trash out yesterday,” Lachlan said. “It’s in the dumpster behind the Station.”

  Not even taking the time to put on a coat, Max ran out of the door to the trash container. He tore through the garbage bags on top, deciding that the garbage from the Aussies would be underneath. Max ripped open the first bag, pouring its contents out on the ground. He shuffled through the papers and various items. It was not there. He grabbed the next one and did the same. As the contents fell to the ground, he heard the distinctive clink of a ceramic mug. He lifted up some potato peels to see Dylan’s cup. Grabbing his prize, he ran back inside, shivering from the cold. Holding up the ceramic penguin, he announced, “We have the code.”

  Max sat down at the computer, blowing warm air into his cupped hands in an attempt to warm up, and brought up the satellite program. When the screen appeared for him to input the password, he was surprised when Dr. Q turned off the monitor. He gave the doctor a perplexed look.

  “Believe me when I say I am excited as both of you to have the password and an opportunity to see what is happening around the world. For over two weeks we have been cut off, ignorant of what is going on,” Dr. Q began. “However, if our fears are real, then the images we are about to see will be horrifying, disheartening and downright gruesome. Therefore, I believe we should have breakfast before we embark on this journey.” He saw both Max and Gayle prepare to object. “I know, I’m not hungry either. But the first rule of survival is to maintain one’s stamina. Plus, there is a good chance that we will lose our appetites for the rest of the day, possibly even tomorrow, once we witness what the satellite shows us. Let’s eat breakfast and a good one. Not just cereal, but our regular weekend meal of eggs, meat, potatoes and bread. What do you say?”

  “I suppose another hour won’t matter,” Gayle stated. “Although I’m not sure witnessing gruesome sights is good on a full stomach.”

  Max looked at his watch. “We can only access the satellite for five hours. After that, we’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning when she passes within range again. An hour less of horror might be advisable for our first revelation.”

  “Gayle, you feed Twinkles,” Dr. Q stated. “Max and I will fix breakfast. I think I saw a box in the storage room marked ‘Penguin Cams'. Check it out and see if there are more artificial birds we can place with Twinkles. I have the feeling that the more he has with him, the better. See if you can make him a home in the storage room where he’ll sleep tonight. We’ll call you when breakfast is ready.”

  Gayle went down to the storage area and was surprised to see Twinkles was already huddled against the four fake penguins. He must have gone back to the storage room as soon as she let him in and hadn't noticed. She called his name and offered him some fish, but he refused to move. All the coaxing in the world with the fish could not get him to come out. Placing the bowl with the fish on the floor, she located the crate Lachlan had told her about. He was right; inside were three more penguin cams. She took them out, removed their protective packaging and made sure there were no loose wires hanging out. Then, she placed them with the other four. Twinkles now had a colony of seven males. When she heard Lachlan calling her, she debated about leaving the fish in case Twinkles got hungry later. Thinking perhaps penguins don’t usually eat dead fish lying on the ground, she decided to return the fish to the kitchen.

  The three said little while they ate their meal. Each imagined what they would see on the screen. Would it be as bad as they feared? Worse? Devastating? Might some areas have been bypassed or somehow immune to the virus?

  Although none were hungry, they forced themselves to eat. When Max finally rose to wash his plate, the others followed, scraping their leftovers into the garbage can. Quickly they washed and dried the few dirty dishes, then huddled around the computer screen. Dr. Q nodded to Max that it was okay to turn the screen on. When he did, the same screen was visible – asking for the password.

  “Here goes,” Max said as he inputted the code. The screen went dark for fifteen seconds. A greeting of “Welcome to the GE Odyssey Satellite” displayed for another thirty seconds as the download bar at the bottom filled up. When it was full, the screen went blank again. Then, to their amazement, they were looking at the penguin colony on the northern tip of Antarctica.

  “It worked,” Max shouted. “Look at all those penguins.”

  “Can you move the satellite image to show us various parts of the planet?” Dr. Q asked.

  “Not the entire planet,” Max replied. “Just that part which is in our direct line of sight. I imagine the upper east coast of Argentina, possibly the eastern half of Brazil. I estimate that in Africa we should see from Nigeria westward. Depending on the location of the satellite, we might pick up the western lower half of Africa.”

  “Anything above the equator?” Dr. Q asked.

  “Doubtful, at least not with this satellite,” Max replied. “I was reading Dylan’s notebook, and there are a couple of satellites he stated were possible to connect with. But they and we have to be lined up just right to get a feed.”

  “What about North America and Europa?” Gayle asked.

  “From down here, that’s out of our range,” Max said. “There’s no way for us to connect with any of the satell
ites when they’re that far north. I’d have to figure out how to jump signals to various satellites.”

  “Just show us what you can, Max,” Dr. Q said.

  “Do you want a particular area?” Max asked. “And do you want to know the location of where we’re looking? I can turn on the indicator that will tell us exactly where we are looking: longitude, latitude, country and city.”

  Dr. Quartermaine thought for a moment. “This time I think it best that we just see what’s out there, if anything. We can focus more on specific areas once we get a better understanding of the death toll and devastation.”

  The three anxiously watched the screen as the penguins grew smaller and smaller as Max zoomed out. Within seconds, all that they could see was land with patches of white ice and snow here and there. Then, at the top of the screen, appeared a patch of blue – the Atlantic Ocean. Max moved the cursor off the Antarctica continent and across the ocean.

  “Max, can you zoom in for a closer look?” Dr. Q asked. He could see what appeared to be numerous objects floating in the water and wondered what they might be, although he had a good idea.

  “Can do,” Max replied, entering various keystrokes to zoom in on the present location. As the image grew larger and Max adjusted the focus, it was apparent that the ocean was filled with the dead bodies of hundreds of marine creatures: whales, dolphins, turtles, sharks, tuna, octopus and numerous fish species. Scattered amongst the corpses or lying on top the floating bodies were seagulls, pelicans and albatross. Most were bloated and white, an indication they had been dead for some time. Only a few whales appeared to have been preyed upon, which probably meant there were no scavengers left to feast on the dead.

  “Can you scan towards the shore?” Dr. Q asked.

  “Right for Africa or left for South America?”