‘How often is this happening?’ Jarvis asked.
‘Five years ago, discovering antibiotic resistance to most illnesses was a non–event’, she replied. ‘Now we’re seeing a dozen cases a month in every major medical facility in the United States. MRC–1 connects with other genes extremely easily, creating pan–resistance across many forms of infection and exacerbating the problem. It will only be a matter of time before bacterial resistance extends to all illnesses, even the common cold. It may surprise you to know that for any species never before exposed to it, the common cold is as much as a killer as influenza, because untreated and without natural immunity it will eventually lead to pneumonia and death.’
‘And there’s nothing that we can do at all?’ Jarvis asked.
‘There’s always something that we can do,’ Lucy replied, ‘which is why I now work in the field that I do. We’re attempting to develop narrow–spectrum antibiotics which target bacteria with laser–guided efficiency, so that a patient’s immune system is not compromised during treatment, and we’re searching for new antibiotics in nature, scouring jungles and forests worldwide in an effort to locate new treatments.’
Jarvis saw the link between what they knew about Aubrey Channing and the fossilized specimen that he had discovered out in the brutal Badlands of Montana.
‘We think that Channing discovered evidence that the dinosaurs may have been succumbing to some kind of virus or illness that was wiping them out long before the asteroid that hit the Yucatan Peninsula,’ Hellerman said.
‘Really?’ Lucy replied, evidently shocked. ‘But the asteroid impact theory is as solid as they come.’
‘That doesn’t mean that something else was occurring at the same time or prior to the impact,’ Jarvis pointed out. ‘We have evidence that when he made the discovery, Aubrey became agitated and refused to let the reporter who accompanied him come anywhere near the find.’
Lucy shook her head, confused.
‘That makes no real sense,’ she replied. ‘Any infection that killed an animal sixty five million or more years ago would not have survived the fossilization process. DNA is not robust enough to maintain integrity over even a fraction of that time.’
‘We’ll, that’s not quite true,’ Hellerman interjected. ‘We now have DNA successfully extracted from fossilized remains in excess of sixty five millions years, tendons, blood cells, bone tissue and other organic material from Tyrannosaurs and even genetic material extracted from insects trapped in amber for hundreds of millions of years.’
‘Not to mention bacteria revived after hundreds of millions of years encased in sodium crystals in New Mexico caves,’ Jarvis added with a knowing glance.
‘Yes,’ Lucy conceded, ‘but recovering material and recovering viable material that can be used in modern processes are two different things. Having material doesn’t count for much if you cannot use it.’
‘But it may be important if whatever Channing found was able somehow to have survived inside the rocks for millions of years,’ Hellerman argued, ‘which is what we’re really talking about here. Aubrey acted as though he was in danger of being infected by something, and he refused to let anybody come near him. That was the last anybody saw of him. When the Center for Disease Control arrived with the reporter, Weisler, Channing was gone and so was his discovery.’
‘If Channing had contracted some kind of exotic infection the Federal Food and Drug Agency would have had him locked down within hours because that’s where I would have taken him, so that the infection could be studied and hopefully a cure found while not risking a pandemic.’
‘Which begs the question why Channing didn’t do that and wait for the CDC,’ Jarvis said. ‘He could have quarantined the site and got the help he needed. His vanishing act doesn’t make sense unless somebody abducted him.’
Lucy nodded, stared at her lap for a moment before she replied.
‘His disappearance remains a mystery that crops up in conspiracy theories all the time, even on television.’
Jarvis looked at Hellerman and nodded once.
‘We made a discovery, recently,’ Hellerman said, picking his words with care. ‘There has been an outbreak of some kind, of an unknown and highly exotic disease.’
Lucy frowned. ‘I didn’t hear of anything. Where is it located?’
‘Madagascar,’ Hellerman said. ‘I take it that you are already aware of the growing scientific hypothesis that earth is currently entering a new extinction age that some are calling the Sixth Extinction?’
‘I am,’ Lucy admitted, cautious now. ‘The markers are there for all to see among sentinel species around the world, as well as the population collapse among bats, bees and other pollinating species.’
Hellerman nodded. ‘This is not one of those situations. Information is sketchy and the Malagasy government appear to be trying to keep a lid on things. We only found out about this after an American scientist working in the jungles out there managed to get word out to the United Nations via satellite phone.’
Lucy leaned forward in her seat. ‘Do we have any information on the nature of the outbreak?’
Jarvis replied.
‘The only definitive communication we have from the man on the ground there is that the disease is pan–species and one hundred per cent lethal.’
Lucy’s features paled and she stared blankly into the middle distance. Jarvis had seen fear in the eyes of people many times in his career, especially in war zones when traumatized civilians had crawled from the smoking ruins of buildings, and he saw that same fear now in his granddaughter’s eyes: primal, deep, terror.
‘Pandemic,’ she whispered finally. ‘Madagascar is just the sort of place that we might expect to discover novel diseases with no known cure.’
‘How so?’ Jarvis asked.
‘Because it’s geographically isolated,’ Hellerman replied, ‘and much of it is virgin rain forest upon which people have never set foot. There could be viruses, bacteria and other such nasties that the world has literally never seen just waiting to find their way into the wider food chain and propagate themselves across the globe.’
Lucy nodded.
‘For a long time now, biologists have feared the emergence of a super–strain of some kind, a disease so virulent and yet so easy to distribute that it would infect humanity in weeks, wipe out millions, perhaps billions. It’s happened in the past often enough. But I have never heard of a species of bacteria or virus that was pan–species in its ability to infect. You’re saying that it’s killing flora and fauna?’
‘Everything it touches, that’s what we’ve been told,’ Jarvis replied.
Lucy’s shoulders slumped and she dragged a hand down her face.
‘This is it then,’ she said finally. ‘This is where the end begins.’ Then she looked up sharply at Jarvis. ‘You haven’t sent anybody anywhere near it, have you?’
***
XXII
Ambila Lamaitso,
Madagascar
‘Right this way.’
Ethan and Nicola stepped off the deck of the boat and onto the jetty as a young man with short black hair and a hassled expression ushered them away from the small dock toward the shore. The sun felt unusually subdued due to the hazy overcast, the island’s dense humidity cloying and uncomfortable.
‘You’re agents Warner and Lopez, correct?’
‘DIA,’ Ethan confirmed wearily as he showed the man his badge, tied around his neck beneath his loose white shirt. The flight from Canada had been long and uncomfortable in the hold of the C–17 Globemaster transport aircraft.
‘Agent Christiano Rabinur, South African field office.’
‘What’s the story?’ Lopez asked.
‘Quarantine on the island, up in one of the national parks,’ Rabinur explained. ‘We got called in because the local Malagasy teams couldn’t figure out what they were looking at.’
‘How bad is it?’ Ethan asked as Rabinur led them along a jetty toward what looked like a
nother small dock, this one enclosed within a man–made harbor.
‘Reports are sketchy but we’ve had one team make it through to the site and they’ve reported that at least fifteen local people are dead already, and that half the damned forest animals are literally falling out of the trees.’
Lopez shot a concerned glance at Ethan. ‘You’re kidding? On what timescale?’
Rabinur stopped at the edge of the jetty and turned to face them.
‘Hours,’ he replied, his features taut with what appeared to be an almost superstitious fear. ‘I’ve never seen or heard of anything like it. The local wildlife experts and conservation teams have tried to preserve evidence at the site, but we lost two more of them last night. Whatever’s up there it’s too lethal to even think about handling directly. We pulled the remaining teams out and have sealed off the forest.’
‘How far is it to the site and what’s the access like?’
‘That’s part of the problem,’ Rabinur replied. ‘The forest is one of the deepest on the island, no roads in or encampments large enough to take a helicopter. The only way in was by foot and it’s taken teams two days to reach the site in the past. Things are moving too slowly to contain whatever it is that’s up there.’
‘We don’t have two days,’ Lopez pointed out. ‘We need to figure this out and fast.’
‘I agree,’ Rabinur replied, and gestured to the dock before them.
There were rows of old fishing boats, some of them little more than dug–out canoes, nets stacked in their sterns where local fishermen had plied their morning’s trade out in the dark waters before their catch dove once again into the deep. Among the boats was a white craft that Ethan realized was not a boat at all but a remarkably small aircraft, its wings folded behind it to decrease storage space.
‘You’re kidding?’ Lopez asked as they walked along the jetty toward the aircraft.
‘Jarvis informed me that you have a microlight license,’ Rubinar said to Ethan.
‘Sure,’ Ethan agreed, ‘I was trained to use them in the Marines, part of an initiative to improve reconnaissance techniques. But that looks like a real aeroplane and I don’t have the qualifications to…’
‘It’ll be fine,’ Rabinur promised. ‘The laws here aren’t quite as strict as back home, and right now getting the two of you into that site is of far greater importance. Besides, it’s just like driving a car.’
Ethan blinked at Rabinur’s confidence as they moved to stand alongside the tiny craft.
‘This is the Icon A5, an amphibious light aircraft designed to be simple enough for anybody to fly,’ he announced.
‘Even him?’ Lopez asked as she jabbed a thumb at Ethan.
‘Even him,’ Rabinur agreed as he opened the cockpit.
Ethan looked inside and was startled to see that it looked almost exactly like the interior of a normal car, with the exception of the control column in place of a steering wheel and a small box of emergency flares tucked in the foot well. The aircraft had two seats, and the engine was a large propeller mounted atop the fuselage and just behind the cockpit. Small outriggers kept the aircraft balanced on the surface of the water, and a large T–tail completed the configuration, the aircraft painted a glossy white that shone as it reflected the surface of the harbor.
‘It’s fully fuelled,’ Rabinur assured him, ‘and produces about as much power as a twin–engine microlight with a similar handling style, so you should feel at home.’
Ethan peered doubtfully at Rabinur as he manually folded down the wings and locked them into place. ‘And the small matter of landing the thing when we get there? You said that the site is deep in the mountains?’
‘There is a river to the east of the site, within a mile or so,’ Rabinur assured him. ‘It empties into an estuary just south of here, so you can follow it all the way in. Navigation data has already been programmed into the aircraft’s GPS screen, so you’ll be able to pick the best spot to land. Be careful though as the river does have some rapids at the higher elevations. You’ll need to pick your spot and tie the aircraft down firmly once you’ve landed.’
‘Sounds easy if you say it fast enough,’ Ethan murmured in reply as Rabinur handed him a set of keys.
‘Starts just like a car and it has an internal parachute safety system in case things go horribly wrong,’ he said cheerfully, ‘so even you won’t be able to crash it.’ But then his humor faltered as he remembered the task at hand. ‘Biohazard suits will await you, and you’ll be met by a member of our team who is camped outside the quarantine zone. Be careful, both of you.’
Rabinur turned and hurried away as Ethan looked at Lopez.
‘Oh well,’ he shrugged, ‘ladies first.’
They climbed into the aircraft and Ethan unmoored it and pushed away from the jetty, the Icon rocking gently on the waves as they strapped into their seats and Ethan pulled the canopy down and latched it into place. He shoved the keys into place, checked the fuel taps were open and that the fuel pump was on, set the throttle to a quarter–inch open and then turned the key.
Lopez jumped visibly as the engine roared into life, and they donned headsets as the hundred–horsepower Rotax powerplant settled down to a steady hum. Ethan kicked the rudder to turn away from the jetty and eased the power open and the little Icon turned willingly on the waves as it rotated on the water to face into the wind blowing across the harbor.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Lopez asked.
Ethan shrugged as he pressed a button to lower the aircraft’s flaps a single notch to increase take off lift.
‘Only one way to find out,’ he said, and opened the throttle fully.
The engine roared gamely and the Icon leaped into motion, Ethan kicking in opposite rudder to counter the torque from the propeller as the little aircraft accelerated across the smooth water, the jetty on the far side of the harbor rushing toward them.
‘Christiano didn’t say how fast this thing takes off!’ Lopez pointed out.
Ethan kept his hand on the throttle, holding it wide open as he kept the Icon straight on the water and replied.
‘Safest speed is too fast,’ he shouted as the Icon climbed through forty knots and he pulled back on the control column, the whole aircraft trembling and rattling.
The waves thumped against the fuselage below them and he felt the wings wobble as the Icon gained a little more airspeed and then suddenly they were off the water and the rush and rumble of the harbor fell away from them.
The jetty drifted by beneath them, local townsfolk looking up into the sky and pointing at them as Ethan retracted the flaps and turned the Icon gently to starboard, gaining height as they climbed up into the sky. The sun broke through some of the haze and the ocean glittered far below, boats scattered at anchor in the bay as Ethan searched for the estuary to the river.
As he looked across the cockpit, he saw Lopez smiling as she gazed down upon the bay below them.
‘See, not so bad?’ Ethan said.
A jolt of turbulence shook the little Icon and it bounced and gyrated on the wind currents as Ethan fought for control. He levelled the wings, checked his airspeed, and looked again at Lopez’s suddenly furious face.
‘It’s a riot,’ she growled. ‘How about we get where we’re going, real fast?’
Ethan didn’t argue as he spotted the estuary glittering green against the blue ocean, the water filled with sediment drawn from the banks of the river further upstream. Soaring mountains dominated the skyline to their right as Ethan flew over the river and turned east to follow it into the forests.
He spotted a magenta line on the GPS display that roughly followed the path of the river, and a red marker to the west buried deep in the mountains.
‘Looks like our spot,’ he said as he pointed at the screen. ‘Fifty miles inland, we should be there in about twenty minutes if this thing can climb fast enough to avoid us hitting anything high and hard.’
‘That’s reassuring,’ Lopez replied. ‘That river looks pl
enty big enough to put down on.’
‘It is at the coast,’ Ethan warned her. ‘I’m not so sure how wide it’ll be when we’re fifty miles inland.’
The Malagasy shore gave way to a few dusty looking roads and then the jungle, thick carpets of tropical forest swathed in veils of mist. The sunlight faded slightly as the overcast moved in again, and Ethan eased the Icon into a gentle climb that he hoped would match the terrain around them.
The river wound its serpentine way through the canopy far below, its effect on the landscape sufficient that Ethan could follow it even when it disappeared beneath the thick canopy itself. The warm, moist air did nothing for the aircraft’s wings, hot air less dense than cold and he realized that the little aircraft was already struggling to maintain altitude.
‘You sure we can make it?’ Lopez asked again, noting the altimeter reading and the forest canopy that seemed to be getting closer by the minute.
‘We can make it,’ Ethan promised, judging his height above the forest and the distance to run. ‘What bothers me is getting airborne again.’
Ahead the mountains soared into the haze above them, an impassable barrier into the Madagascan hinterland.
***
XXIII
‘Ten miles now.’
Lopez watched the altitude dial with a furtive expression as the Icon A5 climbed through veils of mist and light cloud gathering around the mountain peaks and spilling like white rivers down into the valleys below. Ethan leaned forward and switched on the pitot heat to avoid icing inside the aircraft’s sensitive instruments as he sought to maintain a track on the river far below.
The Extinction Code Page 15
