O-Negative: Extinction

by Hamish Cantillon

  As Dominic ran through what had happened he kept his tone measured and quiet, only when it came to describing the metallic creatures sweeping up and over him and his men did the emotion show, his voice cracking as he repeated what he’d told Joe about going to meet his maker. Major Sanderson also seemed calm but the tension in his fingers as he drummed them on the plastic desk was self-evident. He turned to Joe once Dominic had finished. “Ok Joe. Your turn. What did you see?” Joe replied that he’d pretty much seen what Dominic had seen but in addition he described the way the creatures had cut holes in the glass of the cab and the fact that before he’d lost consciousness he’d felt a sort of pin prick on his neck. He also outlined what he’d done after waking up and what his decision making process had been after rescuing the hypothermic Lieutenant Taylor.

  Major Sanderson stopped drumming his fingers on the desk and stood up to speak. “Chaps thank you. You describe a disturbing set of events. To be honest most of what I’ve just seen and heard seems completely fantastical. In any other circumstances I’d have dismissed it out of hand - altitude sickness or lack of oxygen or some other form of mental trickery. However I do find it hard to believe that a commissioned officer in the Royal Marines and an ex Special Forces Captain, who I’ve known personally for 20 years, would have concocted such a story unless it had some basis in truth. In addition the fact that we have lost contact with 3 research stations and two planes within a short period of time combined with your testimony is adding up to some serious issues. Finally I note that Mr Lynch contacting me and offered to fly me down to Halley in his jet, shortly after your last radio transmission, suggests that the Americans also know this is more than some sort of mass hallucination. As this is somewhat above my pay grade I’ll defer judgement for the time being and report what you’ve told me. We'll wait for the higher ups to give a steer before deciding whether we need to take any further action. Mr Lynch any final thoughts from you before I send a report on this back to London?

  “Not from me Major. I’d imagine our respective hierarchies will be on the phone to each other before too long.”

  24 hours later Joe was staring at his computer. He wasn't sure why as he sure as hell wasn't doing any work. However the pretence of doing something meant that he didn't need to worry about the looks of consternation and nervousness he was getting out in the corridor and recreation area. Colleagues who'd previously thought they knew who he was were as friendly as they’d ever been but there was a reticence behind their smiles and words. They knew something had gone wrong on the plateaux but despite their best efforts Joe hadn't said anything other than "there’s little I can say". Of course this only served to increase their wariness. All the other scientists knew there was still no contact with the central stations and people were definitely worried. Trips out on to the ice were being kept to a minimum and Florence had put a ban on overnight trips to the experiments located away from Halley.

  Major Sanderson and Mr Lynch had stayed long enough to make their respective reports and then the Major had taken the transport plane back to Rothera while Mr Lynch had flown off wherever he came from - it was never made clear. Joe didn't want to know. He'd met a Mr Lynch before when he was in Iraq, he knew an alias when he saw one. Though the two planes were gone the supply ship remained docked at the Halley berth. The official line was a mechanical failure but Major Sanderson had told Joe the Captain had orders to stay in situ until he received further orders.

  The conversation he'd had with Florence in her office after the Major and Mr Lynch had left had been somewhat fraught but actually went better than he’d expected.

  "What happening Joe. Mystery marks on satellite images, total absence of comms with the central bases, Royal Marines undertaking 'training exercises' where no training exercises have ever taken place before? To top it all it seems my meek and mild mannered senior geologist is ex-military with friends in high places. I want answers Joe and I want them now. That is if Joe is even your real name. Do you actually have a degree in Geology?"

  Joe sat down and poured Florence a glass of water and then handed it to her when she'd finished her rant. "My name is Joe. I do have a geology degree and yes I used to be in the Army. It was however a long time ago and it's purely coincidental that Bobby Sanderson who I was in Iraq with has been posted to Rothera. Until a few days ago we hadn't spoken in some years. As to everything else I know little more than you do and the little I do know I've promised to keep my mouth shut about for the time being".

  Florence didn't look much happier and the tension lines around her eyes tightened when he declined to provide any more information. "Well can you at least reassure me that whatever's going on there's no danger to Halley and the 56 non-military personnel I'm responsible for here?"

  Joe paused. He didn't want to alarm Florence and he'd promised Major Sanderson not to say anything about what happened on the plateaux. At the same time he was his own man and under no obligation to follow 'orders'. He looked Florence right in the eyes. "I can't do that Florence".

  Joe could see she was shocked. She sat down "You can't do what? You can't reassure me about the team's safety? Jesus Joe if things are that bad why aren't we evacuating - is it the Russians? Have they gone a bit North Polely on us and planted a flag in the centre of Antarctica?"

  Joe shrugged. "I have no idea but I don’t think it’s the Russians. With regards to evacuation you know that’s not my call. I'm sure if the proper authorities feel it’s warranted you'll be the first to know. Interesting that the resupply ship hasn't left yet thought isn't it?"

  "Are you telling me it’s been told to stay here in case we need to evacuate?"

  "I'm not telling you anything I'm just pointing out that it's still here".

  "Joe you're being deliberately obtuse. I have to say I've discovered more about you in the last 24 hours than I have in the last 4 months." She paused and then gave him a different type of look – a look he’d seen on the faces of the women he dated many times before. "Listen Joe you and me….it’s been a wonderful distraction…. but I think we should probably cool things for a bit while whatever's going on sorts itself out".

  Joe gave her a wry smile. "Florence I know. It's been good to escape the realities of life a bit but even here on the most desolate place on earth reality has a tendency to catch up with you. Friends?"

  Florence nodded and gave him a sympathetic smile. "Friends it is. I don't think I quite realised what I was getting myself into with you Dr, or should I say Captain, Harper. Now in your role as Captain Harper what would you suggest I do tell my staff?”

  "I'm still only a senior geologist Florence and just so you're quite clear I do care about you and all the staff here on station. I am still under your authority. However as you’re asking I might suggest that people are stopped from going out overnight for the time being and don't wander too far from base."

  "Done. But what about getting them ready to evacuate if the order comes through?"

  "My experience is that if you start down that role you’ll just give people more time to panic; sometimes a bit of panic’s warranted but for now I think the best thing is to keep things as low key as you can."

  "Jesus Joe how can you be so calm. This is throwing my life into total chaos."

  Joe knew why but he wasn't going to tell Florence that his calmness was directly correlated to the fact that compared to his near death experience a few days ago everything else paled into insignificance. He'd said something non-consequential to Florence and then excused himself leaving Florence to keep the rest of the staff as reassured as she could.

  That had been two days ago. Any calmness that Joe had possessed was long gone. There was an unmistakeable aura of tension permeating the station and this combined with the restrictions on movement outside had led to one of two unsightly scuffles between normally placid colleagues. Peter Jackson a committed Christian and Joe’s roommate had come off worse when he discovered three of the operations guys using the station’s small interdenominatio
nal chapel as the base for an all-day poker game. Having consumed several bottles of Michael Chapman’s home brew they hadn’t received his commands ‘to leave God’s house of worship immediately’ as well as he might have hoped. Joe had found him nursing a sore jaw and a slowly blackening eye back in their tiny bedroom.

  While Joe was reflecting over the last few days Dominic came into the lab “Joe you got a moment?”

  “Sure, what’s on your mind?”

  Dominic beckoned him out in the corridor implying a need to talk without being over heard by the other staff members using the lab. Joe got up and joined him in the corridor.

  Keeping his voice low Dominic said. “Thought you might want to see this”. He passed Joe a printout from the secure terminal he’d been monitoring for the last few days in Florence’s office. Joe read through it. It seemed like the Americans had brought a couple of warships into Antarctic waters and had established a joint base of operations on the Falklands with the British.

  “Does this mean what I think it does Dominic?”

  “Well I’d defer to your judgment but I imagine it means some sort of larger force is going to be dispatched to find out what’s happened to the central bases and to ascertain what that black spot is on the satellite image.”

  Joe replied. “I think that’s a pretty shit idea. Didn’t they see the video footage?”

  Dominic pulled a face. “I imagine that video footage has been kept pretty hush hush. But yes I’m sure a number of people higher up the food chain have seen it. But as I said a few days ago they haven’t experienced it themselves. None of this has been helped by the fact that the Russians just landed a sizeable contingent on East Antarctica. They’re claiming the comms black out is part of some American covert ops experiment. They got all uppity when they realised that the American’s have had a large presence of Raytheon contractors based at McMurdo for several months. Raytheon don’t just do defence contracting and though the Americans have assured everyone that they are simply a facilities improvement team the Russians don’t like the smell of it”.

  “Great if we never see another silver creature again we could still be in the middle of bloody war zone because the Americans and the Russians don’t trust one other. Any word on evacuation of Halley and the other research stations?”

  “Nope. Nobody wants to admit there may be an issue when nobody’s really sure whether or not there is an issue or not”.

  “Typical Yes Prime Minister’s Stuff” Joe said. “So when are the Americans going to plough in?”

  “Best guess would be sometime today or tomorrow. They’ll probably avoid planes given previous flights have simply vanished from radar. I’d imagine they’ll go in with some choppers and some Navy Seals”.

  “Pity those poor buggers”.

  “err yeah about that the American’s have asked the British if they wouldn’t mind sending a couple of people along who may have some familiarity with the terrain and circumstances……..”

  “You’re fucking kidding me Dominic. You mean us? They’re asking us to go along with them? I’d rather drink my own vomit…”

  “You say that Joe but you may have to either that or find yourself back in Blighty on an academic black list. Major Sanderson told me to tell you that the BAS are considering whether or not to withdraw your research funding given they were unaware of your military employment.”

  “I haven’t been employed by the Army for almost 10 sodding years?”

  “Look Joe I know that. Major Sanderson knows that but reading between the lines I get the impression that if you don’t agree to go he’ll let the inference you’ve retained an ‘association’ with the UK Army continue.”

  “This is outrageous Dominic he’s bloody blackmailing me into going and if I say no he’s going to make out I was some sort of undercover intelligence officer planted within the BAS – though what a spy would be doing in the middle of fucking nowhere I don’t know? I don’t think anyone’s going to believe that?”

  “Well your Chief Executive seems to be a bit of a believer. The BAS is bawling for blood back in London and the Army is in the process of considering whether or not to hand you up on a platter.”

  “Fuck it no way I’m going back to these pissing games, I’m not going to let Bobby fing Sanderson blackmail me into doing this. You can tell Fuck Knuckles to shove his threat right back up his jacksie”.

  “Ok Joe I’ll feed that back to him…perhaps using slightly different language but before I do he told me that if you still weren’t convinced he asked me to say two words to you…Al Waleed?”

  Joe paused. He said nothing but his face hardened and for the first time Dominic saw that Joe wasn’t quite as harmless as he looked. His face had sharpened in a way that implied danger that was almost certainly terminal in nature. Within a moment it was gone and Joe’s face shifted back into his normal look but his eyes retained a supressed but ever present seething anger. “Al Waleed. What a complete and utter shit”. He sat down. “Fine. If that’s how he wants it you can go back to Sanderson and tell him I’ll go. But two can play at that game and you tell him if I hear the words Al Waleed again - assuming I ever get back alive from this nightmare - I’ll personally run in a deposition to General Cartwright listing everything I know about Al Waleed and you can be damn sure it won’t match up with the previous report we filed”.

  Dominic nodded. “I’ll tell him Joe.” Not wishing to push Joe any further he turned to leave but then turned back and said. “I’m sorry Joe. I can’t say that I’m happy about going back myself. I’m still not sleeping properly and if I’m honest I’d much rather sit this one out”. Joe looked at him blankly for a moment lost in his own thoughts before waving Dominic out and returning to staring at his computer screen.

  Chapter 15 – DAVID – January 2016

  The morning meeting with his team had buoyed his spirits somewhat. The tide of public opinion against the current administration and in particularly the President’s personal approval rating seemed to be turning more and more in their favour. The majority of the national press based in the East and West Coast was still as supportive as they normally were of the liberal politics and policies coming out of the White House but the clippings he was seeing coming out of the regional newspapers in the south this week were increasingly polemic.

  Where before the traditional issues had been about crime, the local economic climate and college football mixed in with a few dramatic or humorous local news stories the focus seemed to have changed over the last few days. There seems to be a plethora of stories about how the ‘Northern and Western’ states were benefitting from the current administration’s policies at the expense of ‘Southern and Central States’. The use of the term ‘Northern’ was a real throw back to Civil War type language – definitively incendiary. He’d just read in the Georgia times that apparently the number of houses flying the confederate flag had increased threefold since the Democrat administration had come to power. The flag even being seen outside Black and Hispanic community housing, the flag being linked less to white supremacy and more to the ‘Southernness’ of the inhabitants views.

  The Mississippi news had a four page spread outlining in great detail how corporation tax from Southern Companies and natural resource revenues from oil and gas resources located in the south were being used to fund the social and health programmes for urban communities in the ‘north and west’. The Baton Rouge News highlighted recent defence cuts that had cost 2,000 jobs in Louisiana. It looked to him like someone was deliberately pushing a campaign to highlight these issues, someone who knew how to poke was doing an effective if perhaps a little unsubtle job at getting people’s backs up.

  Even his team were surprised at the venom directed at the administration.

  Greg stated that the coverage gave the impression that “The South was in the mood for a revolution.” And questioned whether “the Democrats realise the depth of feeling that’s being brought to the surface with all these articles. I suspect they
’re going to get an unexpected kicking in the mid-terms. I can see 3 or 4 more Republican congressmen getting into previously safe Democrat seats.”

  Megan had also noticed it reading from the Florida Times “The incumbent Republican Mayor of Miami Rob Ford has lost his party nomination vote to the previously unknown council man Roger Fernandez. The Cuban exile community appears to have voted en mass for Mr Fernandez and along with the retirees and disenfranchised white working class Mayor Ford’s core support seemed to vanish overnight.”

  He agreed these were all positive signs. “Looks like President Thomas may well be a one term President which we should all be grateful for. It also strengthens my own hand in terms of raising re-election funds. Maybe I should begin to highlight some of these points in my own speeches and media briefings?”