Extinction Plague: Matt Kearns 4

by Greig Beck

  He translated, yelling over the roar of the rising water. “Here lie the last grains from the bloom of the sky flowers.”

  Lana frowned. “Sky flowers?”

  “Sky flowers blooming.” He turned to her. “I’ve seen this type of reference before – blooms in the sky … meteor explosions.”

  “So, what does that mean?” Lana looked over her shoulder to the water level. “Keep climbing.”

  Matt began to climb again. “I think it wasn’t fungal spores they kept stored in that hole.” He grunted as he levered himself up another few feet. “I think instead it may have been meteor fragments.”

  “That’s what they stored away?” she asked. “That was what was precious to them?”

  “Antarctica is home to more meteor drops than any place in the world. These days they sit on top of the snow and ice like choc drops …” He groaned as he lifted himself. “… on a vanilla icing.”

  Lana lost her grip and slid down the rock wall a foot, and screamed. She managed to cling on, and Matt scaled across to put an arm under her shoulders and hold her tight for a moment. Looking back down, he saw the water was now only a few dozen feet behind them.

  She caught her breath and then looked up at him. “Matt, we have to go back. We were looking for fungal residues, but there might have been meteor fragments inside those pits.”

  Matt looked down again at the rising water. “Not now, just climb.”

  Below them the water was surging, chasing them up the rock face. Matt felt a jolt of fear as the extra light meant he could clearly see the large torpedo shapes moving in the water below.

  As the cavern roof above them crumbled, chunks of stone continued to fall and explode into the water like falling cannonballs. One the size of a walnut bounced off his head.

  “Ouch.” He cringed, and was thankful his long hair padded the impact.

  But Phillip Hartigan wasn’t as lucky – a chunk of stone as large as a bread loaf flew down to strike his shoulder. The crunching impact could be heard over the chaos as it crushed his clavicle bone. His arm and shoulder broken, he fell backwards from the wall.

  “No-ooo,” screamed Lana, who looked for a second like she was going to go after him.

  Maddock leaned out, hung on with one hand, and pulled his blade. But as he was about to leap to the man’s rescue, several huge gray shapes converged on the scientist and the water immediately turned into a boiling explosion of red foam.

  The HAWC watched for a few seconds more, and then resheathed his blade. He stared at Lana. “You!” His voice boomed even over the maelstrom. “Climb. Faster.”

  Matt stared down at the water for a moment more and swallowed down some bile; he just hoped the man was unconscious when he hit the water.

  “Goodbye, Phillip,” he whispered.

  Larger pieces of the roof now started to fall away, some as large as dinner tables. With the huge holes opening up, the gale force wind died down, and the water started to ease its rapid upward surge.

  Before they even reached the top, holes opened up in the cave wall, and first Vin and Klara squeezed out, and then the others through different sections.

  Once out, Matt went to roll onto his back and suck in air, but Maddock yelled for them to keep moving away from the hollowing area. And just as well, because in another few moments the entire roof fell in.

  Millions of tons of rock just collapsed inwards, leaving a huge water-filled crater that still swirled, bubbled and boiled like a giant’s cauldron.

  Matt turned to watch the water in the crater as it became level with the sea surrounding the tiny island. Although it was still a bubbling, muddy soup, it was quickly settling. He knew that everything below would have been buried in dozens of feet of broken stone – Miguel and his submersible, perhaps the sharks that attacked Phillip Hartigan, and possibly any meteorite fragments that might have held the answer they sought. All the hidden cave’s secrets were now gone.

  A few dozen feet away, a nightmarish creature crashed to the rocks and flapped awkwardly. It had triangular teeth around a wide mouth and looked like a type of reptilian simian crossed with a cathedral gargoyle. Its skin was almost translucent and there was steam rising from it, as the creature of eternal darkness was bathed in strong sunlight.

  Klara leaped to her feet, and drew her weapon.

  “That’s the bastard.”

  She fired into its body three times and finished by stamping on its head with the heel of her boot.

  “Payback delivered,” Vin said.

  “What a day.” Matt sat then lay down on his back, letting the sunlight bathe his sweat-slicked face as the sea breeze dried it off. Lana did the same with the HAWCs gathering together to discuss strategy.

  Lana turned to him. “This is your life?”

  “Not all the time.” He kept his eyes closed. “Only when I feel like trying to kill myself.”

  She scoffed. “Sure beats Bells Beach, I guess.”

  Matt opened one eye. “What did you say?”

  “I mean, you’re in your element here: blue water, sunshine. Isn’t that right, Matthew267?” She giggled.

  Matt sat up slowly, and turned. “Lana … LanaPHD. No way.”

  “Pleased to meet you?” she sat up and stuck a hand out. “Now we know what those ‘distracting’ jobs were that dragged us both away.”

  Matt chuckled and pushed long hair back off his face. He grabbed her hand. “This has got to be fate. Those jobs pulled us in different directions, only to throw us together.”

  “Kismet, we call it.” She showed a line of perfect teeth as she smiled. “It was meant to happen.”

  He nodded as he stared at her. She was beautiful, courageous, smart, and funny. She was everything he hoped she’d be.

  “I’m really glad we made it out alive.”

  She reached out to rub his arm. “Like I said, it was meant to happen.” She dropped her hand and her expression darkened.

  Matt saw there were tears on her cheeks and her mouth was turned down. Hartigan, he remembered.

  “I’m so sorry, Lana.”

  She nodded and mouthed thank you, but kept her eyes closed and head down. “He was my friend and mentor.”

  “We need to ensure his death wasn’t wasted. We need to gather our thoughts and fight back,” he said.

  She nodded once.

  Matt looked around. They were on the eastward slope of the small rocky outcrop that they had entered from below. Just a quarter mile from them was the southernmost tip of Easter Island, and everywhere else seemed to be endless ocean.

  He wiped his hands on his pants’ legs. “Somehow the Aztlanteans knew about the meteorites – sky flowers.”

  “Meteorites.” She lifted her head and turned to him.

  “Yes.” He half smiled. “I think they meant falling meteorites were somehow able to control or kill the silicoids. But the gal-ka-tar translation was clear – fungus.” He clicked his fingers. “Maybe the meteorites contained the fungus.”

  She put her hands over her face and rubbed her eyes. “And it still means that the fungus is the thing we are looking for. The spores must be somehow detrimental to the silicon creatures. But now we have another element to consider: the meteorites.” She raised her eyebrows. “So how do they fit?”

  “Somehow the Aztlanteans observed them fall, and made use of what they retrieved from the ‘sky flowers’. Then they tried to save the knowledge for posterity, but …” Matt shrugged.

  “But?” Lana sat forward.

  “But, shit happens.” Matt leaned back on his elbows. “And now they’re gone.”

  Lana rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a sample jar that contained a small dark piece of rock. “Not all of it.”

  Matt sprang forward. “You, magnificent …”

  She handed it to him. “Don’t get your hopes up. This rock has been soaked in brine humidity for over ten thousand years. Salt water would have destroyed any and everything terrestrial.” She handed it to him.

&nb
sp; Matt held it up, examining the tiny rock. It looked like an everyday pebble, but a little darker and rougher than usual. “What secrets do you hold inside you?”

  Lana held out her hand. “I can test it when we get back. But bottom line is, I’m not hopeful.” She looked out at the ocean. “We just needed one tiny fragment that had remained dry. Fungal spores can resist cold, dry, radiation, and even the vacuum of space – they are one of the universe’s great time capsules. There’s only one thing they can’t stand …” She tilted her head to Matt.

  He nodded. “Yeah, damn salt water.”

  She sighed. “Yes, and after a length of time, even the hardest rocks become saturated.”

  “Close but no cigar.” He looked up and out at the blue divide between their tiny island and the larger one just on half a mile away, and slowly shook his head. “I’ll tell you something right now – I’m not swimming back.”

  CHAPTER 38

  USA – USSTRATCOM Headquarters, sub-level 1 laboratories

  “Any biological material is long gone,” Lana said. “But the sample contains four peculiar minerals in high concentrations. They are plagioclase, feldspar, olivine, and ilmenite.” Lana sat back, shaking her head. “That’s unbelievable.”

  “So they’re rare, huh?” Matt asked.

  She turned and her eyes gleamed. “Only on Earth.”

  “What?” Matt grinned. “So where are they not rare?”

  “The moon, of course.” She returned his smile.

  “Of course.” Matt laughed.

  Hammerson folded brawny arms. “Wait a minute, are you telling me that little thing is a piece of our moon?”

  “I believe it once was,” Lana replied.

  “It’s a damn moon rock.” Matt threw his hands up.

  “Look, there are no absolutes here, and I’m working on probabilities. But those four minerals account for ninety-nine percent of the crystalline material of the lunar crust. Whereas the most common minerals on the surface of the Earth are quartz, calcite, magnetite, hematite, micas and amphiboles. These lunar minerals are almost non-existent. A chunk of pure, flawless diamond would be less rare.” Lana opened her hands. “Of course, it could have come from somewhere else in the universe, but my money is on them being, yes, moon rocks.”

  “The meteorites,” Matt said. “They’re meteorite fragments, perhaps blasted from the moon’s surface, thousands or millions of years ago. The Aztlanteans found them, most probably in the Antarctic, and they somehow witnessed their effect on the silicoids.” Matt rubbed his jaw. “Then they saved them … for us.”

  “But they never expected their hiding place would be drowned,” Lana said. “The meteorite must have had fungal spores on them that were somehow toxic to the creatures.”

  “Nothing grows on the moon, it’s totally devoid of all life.” Hammerson’s brows knitted. “What am I missing here?”

  “Let me try and explain.” Lana got to her feet and began to pace. “This is a long shot, but it’s all I’ve got. We all know that the moon was born of the Earth. About four and a half billion years ago during a time called the Hadean Period, something the size of Mars crashed into the Earth, or what was known as Gaia then. The impact, called the Theia Impact, would have been cataclysmic, and would have nearly shattered our planet. But the impacting mass, Theia, and Gaia joined into a final form that became what Earth is today.” She pointed a finger upwards. “But not before a massive chunk of the primitive Earth was blown into space.”

  “But it was captured,” Matt added. “Earth’s gravity stopped it from being flung out into the cosmos, and held it in an orbit, a lunar orbit. It became our moon.”

  “Yes, and today it is a nearly fifteen-million square mile lump of geology just floating about one hundred and eighty thousand miles above us. Sometimes a lunar impact blasts a chunk off and it can fall to Earth. But they’re unbelievably rare,” Lana replied.

  “So, we think they contained some sort of fungal spore from the Hadean period of Earth.” Hammerson made a noise deep in his chest. “I assume you and Dr Hartig—” He cursed softly. “Sorry, I know he was a good man.”

  “It’s okay,” Lana said, but looked away.

  Hammerson went on. “I assume you tested the creatures’ vulnerability or resistance to other fungal samples.”

  “Yes, most of them, and even some ancient spores from archeological digs. There was no effect,” Lana replied.

  “Is there any way you can extract spores from that moon rock?” Hammerson asked.

  “There’s nothing there now.” Lana sighed. “Unfortunately our piece wasn’t sealed in a watertight container. And after immersion for so long, the rock is saturated with salt. Nothing remains.”

  Hammerson groaned, but then turned. “We are trying to track whoever it was that stole those samples from under our noses. But if we get them, can you test them on the silicoids?”

  “No.” Lana’s lips compressed for a moment. “The creatures we had all degraded.”

  “Degraded?” Matt asked. “They died?”

  “Yes, but then the samples all disintegrated into their base composite elements.” She laughed softly but there was no humor in her expression. “They degraded into dust, silicon dust, that was nearly indistinguishable from common sand. They left us nothing to work with.”

  Matt nodded. “You know, that makes a lot of sense. It might be why there’s never been any evidence of these things in the fossil record. For large incursions, the silicoids appear, wipe out most of the life on Earth, and then either they run out of food, reach the apex of their life cycle, or something stops them somehow.” He scoffed. “Then they just turn to dust and vanish.”

  “Until the next incursion, or upwelling, or whatever we want to call it.” Hammerson exhaled in exasperation.

  “Upwelling.” Lana tested the concept. “Yes, that sounds accurate, given the eggs were in underground bodies of liquid.”

  “They’re here right now, and multiplying, and we’ve got nothing.” He looked along their faces. “Give me some suggestions, people.”

  “Let’s just get more rocks.” Matt turned to Hammerson. “You guys mentioned that the Aztlanteans must have gathered the moon rocks from Antarctica, so why don’t we go back and search for more?”

  “Moon rocks are incredibly rare,” Lana said. “Thousands of times more rare than normal meteorite fragments that fall to Earth. That’s because most meteorite fragments have an iron base and can be detected. As I mentioned before, the composition of moon rocks means they’re a lot softer and lighter, and they look indistinguishable from normal rocks.”

  “They’re lighter, so that means they sit on top of the snow and ice, right?” Matt asked.

  “That’s true, but only about one in ten thousand would be a moon rock. We could spend years looking for a single one.”

  Hammerson began to chuckle.

  Matt grinned back at the tough HAWC commander. “Okay, what, Jack?”

  “I’ve seen moon rocks.” He smiled. “Plenty of them.”

  “Huh, how could you?” But then Lana clapped her hands together. “Of course … the Apollo missions.”

  “Exactly.” He pointed at her.

  Matt sat down at one of the computer consoles in the lab and started to furiously type.

  He sat back. “Oh yeah.” He turned the screen around. “The Apollo missions collected over two thousand samples weighing all up at about eight hundred and fifty pounds.”

  “Where are they now?” Lana asked.

  “The majority of the Apollo moon rocks are at the Lunar Sample Laboratory Facility at the Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center in Houston, Texas. There’s also a smaller collection stored at White Sands Test Facility in Las Cruces, New Mexico.”

  Matt nodded as he stared at his computer screen. “And stored in nitrogen to keep them free of moisture.” He turned to Lana. “That’s good, right?”

  “Sure is. Dry is very good.”

  “A-aaaand, they’re considered priceless.
” Matt turned.

  Hammerson snorted. “It’s national, global, security at risk. And besides, it’ll be a hellova lot more palatable than nuking your own countryside. I’ll requisition them … all of them.”

  Hammerson made the call, then turned and gave Matt the thumbs-up. “On their way.”

  “Good,” Matt said. He moved closer and held out his phone. “Jack, there’s something else.” He lowered his voice. “Ah, I’ve got some pictures of my mom and cousin, Megan, to forward to you. You know, for when you’re looking.”

  Hammerson nodded, but his lips were drawn into a tight line. Matt showed him the pictures scrolling past each – his mother and then Megan. There was one showing the tattoo on her arm.

  Hammerson craned forward. “Go back.”

  Matt swiped back to the tattoo shot.

  “Stop.” Hammerson looked at the image for a moment more and then nodded slowly, his expression glum. “Son, prepare yourself, but I’ve seen that tattoo before.” Hammerson straightened.

  “Where? When?” Matt’s eyes were wide as he gripped the colonel’s arms.

  “I’m sorry, Matt, but I saw it on a body.” Hammerson’s gaze was dead level.

  “What?” Matt released Hammerson, his mouth working for a moment. “She’s dead? Are you sure?” He blinked several times. “Can I see …?”

  “No, because the bodies were incinerated.” Hammerson nodded. “Contamination.”

  Matt felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He staggered and held out an arm. Hammerson grabbed it and guided Matt to a chair.

  Lana rushed over. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s just had some bad news. His cousin.” Hammerson let Matt slide into the chair where he slumped.

  Lana put an arm around his shoulders.

  Matt suddenly reached out to grab Hammerson’s shirt. “My mom, did you see her there too?”

  Hammerson shook his head. “No, Matt, we’re still looking. But if they were together …”

  Matt covered his face and broke down.