The Sixth Extinction

by Bob Blink

  If the data he had spent days trying to reconcile was correct, then the cloud's composition included some compounds as yet unidentified that were remarkably good at absorbing and scattering infrared and visible light. Perhaps there were unusual free radicals and unknown compounds that were being activated as they approached the sun, thereby stealing a disproportionate amount of the light. The preliminary data from the satellite probes suggested it could potentially reduce the sun's effective luminosity by a significant percentage. For a short time that wouldn't be a major concern, but given the size and relative velocity of the cloud, he was estimating nearly a thousand years would pass while the core of the solar system was immersed in this strange cloud. As a result the surface temperature of the planet would drop significantly. All species on the planet were facing a very long cold winter, mankind included. He knew there had to be an error in the data that he had somehow overlooked, but days of review, and frequent consultations with his best friend, astrophysicist Walter Latham, had them both scratching their heads.

  Dr. Russell had proposed a series of experiments that might shed light on what might be ahead, but the difficulty of performing tests for something as poorly defined as the unmapped dust cloud made him wonder if he would obtain any meaningful results. He had suggested a series of spacecraft monitoring tests that could be made, once the proper spacecraft were launched. Those had been built and sent into space, and now the first sets of data had been delivered to him. He'd puzzled for hours in an attempt to draw defensible conclusions about what lay ahead.

  Part of what bothered him was the strange sense of having done this before. He felt that answers were just beyond his reach, locked in the back of his mind stubbornly refusing to reveal themselves. He'd had that same strange sense of déjà-vu more than once in the past months, although trying to recall what had triggered the feeling the last times he'd experienced it was just as elusive as his belief that he knew the answer to the problem in front of him.

  Something flickered in his peripheral vision and he spotted a whitish blur at the edge of his desk. As he watched, almost stunned by what he was seeing, a single sheet of paper materialized on his otherwise uncluttered desk. Believing it to be something the computer generated, and just another hologram, he hesitantly reached out to touch the apparition, only to find it was in fact solid and real. Doubting what his senses told him had happened, he picked it up and brought it closer, realizing that something was written on the upper surface.

  It was a note, addressed specifically to him. The letter indicated that a meeting was necessary between himself and the unidentified sender, giving the time and date. It also indicated that his old college roommate should be invited to attend. Nothing was written on how to respond in order to agree to the meeting, the sender apparently planning to appear regardless of how Dr. Russell might react to the request.

  A chill ran down his spine. He couldn't have said why, but he sensed that this request, arriving as if by magic, was somehow very important. Almost absently, he shut down the various displays he had been studying, his attention diverted by the unexplainable arrival of the note to the point he knew he would make no further progress with the problem of the strange cloud. He decided he'd call Walter Latham, his old college roommate and describe what had happened. He also planned to call his brother. Something warned him that Don might be a presence he wanted if this strange meeting were to take place. Whether it did or not, he wanted Don to see the note. If nothing else, there was a mystery as to how it could have arrived as it had.

  Chapter 8

  Los Angeles

  Don stepped out onto the rooftop parking structure into the clear fall morning. The sun, while not providing the usual warmth this time of year, was bright in the blue morning sky, and felt good on his skin. He walked over to the AirCar he had checked out for the morning from the newspaper's motor pool, handing the approval form to Barry, the attendant on duty. He and Barry knew each other from the many other times Don had used one of the expensive vehicles, and the skin-headed youth grinned as he accepted the quarter-sized crystal that would record the usage of the vehicle. Barry pressed it into place on the console, using his own implanted ID chip to authorize the insertion.

  "When will you be back?" Barry asked, although Don had clearance to use the vehicle for the entire day.

  "I don't have any idea," Don replied truthfully. He was nervous about the strange request from his brother, and given the lack of information Tim had provided regarding the odd request, he couldn't anticipate how long the visit might require.

  Barry shrugged. It didn't matter, but he always asked. He liked to know how to plan the day, and knowing how long one of the vehicles might be out was key to running the motor pool efficiently.

  "Call me when you are on the way back, okay?" he asked.

  Don nodded absently, only half hearing what the attendant was saying, his mind looking ahead trying to imagine what could have stirred up his normally composed older brother. The life of an academic seldom held anything intense enough to create anxiety, yet Tim had several times made the point that he was to make certain to emphasize the visit was a personal matter. He wondered if there was something wrong with Tim's partner. They had been linked for almost three years now, and at his birthday earlier in the year had suggested that marriage, Tim's second, might be in the wind.

  Climbing into the right hand front seat, Don strapped himself in, and pressed the screen that activated the controls. Barry's authorization of the control crystal had powered the vehicle, and now it patiently awaited his instructions. He spoke with the virtual driver, explaining he wanted to go to UCLA, the northwest parking facility, and watched as the on-board assistant located the GPS coordinates of their destination. Don had checked the location before heading to the roof, and saw that the desired location had been properly selected, not that he had expected otherwise. After agreeing he was ready to depart, the vehicle rose smoothly into the air, hovering some fifty feet above the rooftop, and after receiving permission from traffic control, turned and slipped into the flow a couple of hundred feet above the parking area, the optimum route having been selected from the multiple possibilities available.

  Traffic was light this morning, and Don was able to enjoy a mild breeze that was surprisingly warm given it was late October as they sped away from the office, switching between aerial routes as the on-board driver guided the vehicle smoothly along the preselected route. With traffic this light there would be no need for alternate routes to be queried for better travel time, and they sped toward the university at a smooth seventy miles per hour.

  Unhindered by any need to worry about navigation or control of the AirCar, Don let his mind wander, recalling the urgent call from Tim the night before. Apparently whatever the matter involved, they were to share the meeting with Tim's old college roommate, a Dr. Walter Latham, a physicist and undoubtedly Tim's closest friend. There was to be a fourth participant, but Tim couldn't, or wouldn't, reveal who it would be. After a few moments trying to guess, Don realized it was a waste of his energy, and decided he'd just have to be surprised. Although he was worried about what this meeting might represent, a part of him was thrilled at the unusual nature of it all, and hoped that it didn't turn out to be something disappointingly common. He needed a bit of unpredictability in his life right now.

  UCLA appeared off the left side and the car made a couple of adjustments as it shed speed and transitioned into the descent pattern that would deliver him to the parking area he had specified. Moments later he was on the ground, the car parked. No one else would be able to use it in his absence, the virtual driver knowing who he was and that he was the only authorized user until the vehicle had been checked back in at the newspaper.

  The short walk across the campus took Don to the Physical Sciences Annex where his brother had his office. Making his way up to the third, and uppermost level, he noted the absence of the usual crowds of students, and realized most would be away for the Fall break.


  He knocked lightly on the closed door of his sibling's office, and stepped inside after hearing the familiar voice bid him to enter. The secretary he was used to seeing in the outer chamber was missing, probably away for the holidays like most of the students. His brother, a workaholic, seldom took days away from his research, the mysteries of the universe holding far more interest for him than anything he'd find elsewhere. Holo prints of distant star systems and of the nearby planets covered the walls, the latter all from one of the more recent probes that were busy examining the surfaces of those mostly hostile worlds.

  Tim smiled and looked relieved by Don's arrival. Ten years older than Don, Tim was also half a foot shorter, blond haired, with startlingly blue eyes and a surprisingly athletic build. Don didn't know how his brother managed it, because he knew Tim ate poorly, and seldom even thought of exercise let alone engaged in any.

  "I was afraid you wouldn't make it," Tim said.

  "You said it was important," Don reminded him.

  Tim's head bobbed up and down in agreement, then pointed to a chair off to the left where Dr. Latham sat watching them.

  "You remember Walt, don't you?" Tim asked.

  "Of course," Tim agreed, "although it's been a few years." He walked over and shook the physicist's hand.

  "I thought you said there would be one more?" Don asked, his eyes scanning the office for the mysterious last member of the get-together.

  "That person hasn't arrived yet," Tim apologized.

  "That person?" Don asked, picking up on the oddly worded response.

  "We don't know who it is," Dr. Latham explained. "Not even if it is a man or a woman."

  "Very mysterious," Don replied. "Can you tell me what this is about, or do I have to wait?"

  Tim looked at Latham, then shrugged and walked over to his desk where he recovered a sheet of heavy paper. He walked over and handed it to Don.

  The paper was of high quality and the handwritten note was in very precise and careful script. Don read the brief note quickly.

  "This is what has you so excited?" he asked mystified, and possibly a bit annoyed. It didn't seem anything so strange to him. For this he'd taken the day off work? The note simply indicated the desire for a private meeting to discuss a matter of great importance. It stated the time, place and that it should be private, other than the fact Dr. Latham should be asked to attend.

  "It's paper," Tim said as if that explained something.

  "And nice bond at that," Don agreed. "So what?"

  "Look around this place," Tim directed. "How much paper do you see? Nothing, right? When is the last time you received anything on handwritten paper? I'll bet you can't even remember. Paper is hardly used anymore. It's only used for very unusual or formal occasions. Electronic media is far more convenient and available. Walt got a note somewhat like this as well," Tim added.

  "Tell him how it arrived," Dr. Latham suggested.

  Tim nodded. "Of course," he agreed. Then he pointed to the sheet that Don still held. "Do you see a crease? Do you detect any indication that it was folded into an envelope for delivery?"

  Don shook his head.

  "It came just like that. It just appeared," he added.

  "Appeared?" Don asked still trying to track his brother's thinking.

  "On my desk," he said animated and pointing to the smooth oak surface that was nearly pristine. "I was sitting in my chair, studying some data that had been taken the night before, when I realized it was materializing as I watched."

  Don didn't know what to say.

  "Maybe you were so engrossed in the data you were studying, you simply didn't notice it when you sat down and it only seemed to appear?" he suggested. "It might have been there all along and you simply didn't notice it." He knew that Tim could be overly focused at times.

  "Crap!" Tim cursed. "Walt, you tell him," he said, turning and pacing in a small circle.

  "I saw the sheet appear," Walter Latham said softly, his gray eyes steady on Don's. "I was about to leave for home and had just cleared away all of my work. The letter simply coalesced, forming from what looked like a vapor into the solid sheet I have here."

  He handed his sheet to Don to look at. The paper was the same as was the handwriting. The note was similar in nature, but suggested that he arrange to be at Tim's office today for the meeting.

  "I came in on the Tube this morning," Dr. Latham added.

  "This is a little hard to believe," Don said uncertainly. He didn't want to offend Dr. Latham or annoy his brother by calling them liars or crazy, but things didn't simply materialize out of thin air. Science had made some remarkable advances in recent years, but some things just weren't possible.

  He was wondering how to proceed when they realized that someone was in the room with them, standing quietly just a short distance away. He hadn't heard the door open, and in fact was certain that Tim had locked it after admitting him. The man, clearly of Indian descent, was barely five and a half feet tall, with unfashionably long black hair and a painfully thin body. He wore a one-piece garment with no markings, and looked a bit ill at ease, his eyes shifting from them to his surroundings as though he was unfamiliar with where he was.

  "Who are you?" Tim demanded, belatedly realizing an intruder had somehow entered the room.

  For a moment the dark-skinned man was silent, mumbling to himself. Then he seemed to focus and turned to engage Tim.

  "Forgive me. This is all quite interesting. I am forgetting what it was like and this is the first time I've experienced this environment knowing what is going on."

  The ramblings meant little to Tim or the others, and he demanded, "What are you doing in my office?"

  "I am thinking we are supposed to be meeting, no?" was the simple reply. "I sent you the invitations." He pointed to the sheet of paper that Don still held in his hand. His voice carried the slight sing-song accent that Don had experienced before from native Hindu speaking individuals.

  "You sent these letters?" Dr. Latham asked.

  The man nodded and bowed slightly.

  "Could you explain how you managed that?" the physicist asked.

  The question was met with a lot of nodding and finally, "Yes, of course. I have much to tell you, but this will be difficult and I warn you that much of what I have to say you will find unbelievable. I have chosen you for a reason that will hopefully make sense later. For now, I ask that you keep an open mind and allow me the chance to convince you what I say is true."

  "First I'd like to know how you were able to get in here unobserved," Tim demanded.

  "That is part of the explanation," the man promised. "I was inserted into this place, which I know tells you nothing. Some background will be required for me to explain."

  "Who are you?" Don asked trying to find some focus in this odd situation. He was certain he'd been looking where the man currently stood moments before he was spotted.

  "Call me Rao," the man replied. "May we sit? This will take some time. I am being poor at this kind of thing."

  "Now, what is this about?" Tim demanded once they were seated around the small conference table opposite his desk.

  Rao sighed.

  "A problem has developed and I need your help. The entire project might be at risk and I can see no other approach but to enlist the aid of those who are supposed to remain unaware of the true nature of their existence until the conclusion of the mission. It is difficult to see how to begin. It seemed easy before I came here, but now . . ?"

  Rao held his hands out hopelessly.

  "Maybe you should start by telling us who you are? What is your profession?" Don asked.

  "I am a software engineer," Rao said. "Once I was a senior leader of something unique, and for a long while I was one of you, and now I have been extracted and taken outside and dropped in the middle of something that shouldn't be."

  "Riddles," cursed Tim.

  Rao nodded.

  "I do not mean it to be so, but I suddenly realize how difficult it will be in this
environment to persuade you of the truth. Let me just say, things are not at all what they seem."

  Chapter 9

  UCLA - Los Angeles

  Rao considered how to proceed sensing the growing impatience of the three men.

  "Let us start here. What is today's date?"

  Don looked at the diminutive engineer oddly, but said slowly, "October 5, 2083."

  The Indian nodded his head rapidly, his dark eyes sparkling. "So it seems, but what if I were to tell you that the true date is actually something much different? That it is, in fact, the year 3214?"

  "I would say you have lost your mind and that this conversation should end right here," Tim said angrily starting to stand up as he stared at their obviously disturbed visitor.

  Dr. Latham put his hand on his friend's shoulder and held him in place, then asked.

  "Why would you make such an unusual statement?"

  "Because it is true," Rao said softly. "You have been long deluded as to when and where you are. I have come to seek your help and make you aware of the impossible situation in which you find yourselves. Hear me out and then allow me to prove to you what is unbelievable but true."

  "How could it be more than a thousand years in the future?" Don asked, trying to be reasonable but like his brother was pretty certain they had a mental case on their hands.

  "Because the passage of time has been hidden from you. This world, these surroundings, are not real. They are merely a simulation. The lives you are leading are preplanned and controlled by an immense computer complex."

  Dr. Latham pinched himself and said. "I feel real enough to me."

  Rao smiled and nodded. "Yes, it is a very good simulation. No expense was spared in its creation."