Extinction Code

by James D. Prescott

  “What are you saying?” Gabby asked.

  “The nets were where they slept. I think they had a clear mission, one they knew could last a long time, hence the crates of food. And once they felt that mission was complete, they were probably too old to go home. One by one, they lay down and died.”

  Grant shuffled around to make himself more comfortable. “I know something about how they must have felt.”

  “That may be, but it still doesn’t answer Grant’s question,” Dag said. “Why?”

  “Perhaps they came to study life on earth,” Rajesh offered. “Isn’t that what we also do on other planets?”

  “Would they need a ship this big?” Gabby asked. “Seems like overkill to me.”

  “Maybe they prefer Hummers over those dinky little smart cars,” Dag said, casting out a line.

  No one bit.

  “Gabby’s right,” Grant replied, pressing up against the container. “A race that inefficient wouldn’t get very far in a galaxy like ours. Then there’s the tinkerer theory.”

  “Tinkerer?” Jack asked. “Enlighten us, please.”

  “You know how the story goes, they show up and tinker with earth DNA. Make a few modifications here and there.”

  “But why?” Gabby asked.

  Jack wasn’t buying it. “What group of responsible scientists, human or not, would trash a planet in the process? These weren’t pot-smoking teenagers joyriding with Dad’s Cadillac, nor do I think they came with the altruistic purpose of making a few genetic modifications.”

  “So what are you suggesting?” Dag asked, impatient.

  “At first, given the size, I wondered if this was a generation ship.”

  “A what?” Gabby asked.

  “It’s a fairly old concept,” Rajesh cut in. “I’ve read about it in science fiction novels. Even at the speed of light, crossing from one end of our galaxy to the other would take over a hundred thousand years. We are talking about mind-boggling stretches of space and time. If a civilization wanted to colonize another world, there are only a handful of options they can turn to. One of those is to populate a spaceship with a set number of astronauts handpicked for their strong genetic stock. During the long voyage, each of them would be paired off and expected to rear a large family. The idea is that by the time the ship arrives, a crew of a few hundred would eventually number in the thousands.”

  “I can already see a ton of problems,” Gabby pointed out. “It would require the initial crew to have the utmost altruism, since they would know they had no chance of ever reaching the final destination. And it would be worse for those born during the voyage, since they never signed up for the journey in the first place. I can imagine revolts taking place.”

  “Clearly that wasn’t the case here,” Grant said. “We’ve only found ten of them.”

  “Maybe they weren’t each other’s type,” Dag offered. He glanced at Jack, his face becoming serious. “There is another version of this story though. It’s pretty much the same, except instead of growing an active population that requires food and produces waste, they put the astronauts into a state of suspended animation.”

  “That would require special cryogenic chambers,” Jack said. “And we haven’t seen anything like that yet.”

  “Maybe they stored the genetic blueprints to make their own settlers,” Gabby said pensively.

  “So this isn’t as much a ship,” he theorized, pointing his gloved finger at the body on the autopsy table, “as it is a factory for creating more of these.”

  “An invasion,” Dag said. “But what went wrong?”

  “It’s only a working hypothesis,” Jack made clear, trying to temper their growing concerns. “For all we know, we could find something that sends us in a totally different direction.”

  Just then Eugene’s excited voice cut in. “Uh, guys, you might wanna look at this.” He relayed the feed into their OHMDs. The right lens of Jack’s glasses lit with a grainy video. In it were rows of glass tubes and beneath each of them a holographic display module.

  Nobody asked and Jack didn’t need to explain. They were looking at incubation chambers.

  Chapter 39

  Male voices, whispering nearby. Those were the only sounds Mia could make out, apart from the earthy smell of the black bag that had been pulled over her face.

  “Who are you?” she asked in vain. “Why are you doing this?” There was a pathetic quality to her voice, one she was playing up on purpose. Maybe if she triggered her abductor’s guilt reflex, they might decide to let her go. It was a long shot, but right now her options were diminishing with every passing second.

  Villa 1-11-14 was one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the world and here she sat blinded and awaiting her fate. They had zip-tied her hands behind her back and then in turn zip-tied that to the chair’s lower spindle. Unlike in the movies, rocking backwards and toppling onto the ground would only fracture her wrists and render her even more vulnerable to attack.

  Slowly, she began to form an image of how she could defend herself. As soon as they pulled the sack off her head, she would leap forward and latch onto the man’s face with her teeth.

  It sounded like a terrific plan, until she caught the tread of heavy boots heading toward her and felt her resolve begin to waver.

  Off came the hood in one quick snap, but she didn’t lunge. Didn’t move a muscle. Instead, she sat staring at the handsome face of a man who looked American.

  “Untie me,” she demanded.

  Ignoring her plea, he instead pulled up a chair, turned it around and swung a leg over as he straddled the seat, a move that looked to Mia very much like a cowboy climbing onto his horse. He regarded her, his grey eyes intent, his arms folded over the wooden top rail. The wood creaked as he moved back and forth ever so slightly.

  His short hair was dark and wavy. A clump hung over his forehead, threatening his face, but he didn’t flick it away. Didn’t seem to notice.

  A muscular man in his late twenties stood behind him, arms crossed over his broad chest. His face was far less pleasing than that of his friend seated in the chair before her.

  “You two gonna just stare or you gonna tell me what this is all about? You don’t look like you’re from around here.” She started the same speech in Spanish before he cut her off.

  “Save your breath.” His voice was deep and he smelled vaguely of chocolate. “My name is Tom. The mean-looking junkyard dog behind me is Sven. He may not speak, but then why bother when looks can kill?”

  Sven growled, baring a mouthful of crooked teeth. After a second of this, his lips curled into a skewed grin.

  Tom motioned to the doorway and beyond. “Those men out there, you have any idea why they’re after you?”

  Mia batted her eyelashes. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  His chin dropped. “Cute. This may come as a surprise given the zip ties. But we’re here to help you.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.”

  “Have you also heard of a group called Sentinel?” he asked, cutting to the chase.

  The muscles in her arms tensed. “I have,” she affirmed, her voice now quiet and filled with apprehension. What could he tell her that she didn’t already know?

  “Then I take it you know what they’re after?”

  “Are you with Sentinel?” she asked, not entirely sure if she would believe him one way or another.

  “We used to be,” he said, nodding toward Sven, who grunted. “But not anymore.”

  Her head cocked to one side in confusion.

  “Lately, there’s been more and more of us who’ve come to see the organization for what it is. A state within a state. Their original mandate was to protect the world from outside threats. But with time, that unchecked power began to corrupt them. What started as a noble enterprise aimed at preventing the human race from killing itself soon became an excuse to create systems of dynastic power.”

  “Killing itself?” Mia asked, trying to figu
re how this story was lining up with the one Armoni had told her.

  Tom drew closer. “It’s not like the pre-Columbian natives were sending postcards to Europe. ‘Weather here’s great. And there’s more gold than you can carry.’ See, Columbus was a dimwit who thought he’d landed in India. From there things went from bad to worse. Either way, we can all agree they would have been better off had Columbus just stayed home.

  “In the very same way, for billions of years, earth has enjoyed a relatively quiet existence on the outer edge of the galaxy. While there was nothing we could do to prevent being discovered by an inquisitive alien race, Sentinel didn’t want a bunch of idiot scientists giving away our location. For all we know, our galactic neighborhood may be the equivalent of Compton or Villa 1-11-14.”

  Pimped-out UFOs and aliens with low-hanging space pants fluttered across her mind’s eye and she stifled a burst of laughter.

  “Sounds like a joke, I know,” Tom said, hardly cracking a smile. “That’s because for a long time we did a great job turning anyone who uttered the word UFO into a laughing stock. It was a strategy designed to make it easier to sweep the problem away when they really did show up. But like the rest of the planet, Sentinel had taken its eye off the ball, looking to the stars, instead of down here on earth.”

  “If you’re really here to help, then why didn’t you stop them from taking Armoni away?” she said accusingly.

  Tom’s gaze was locked on hers. “I’m sorry to say that Armoni is little more than a casualty in a larger war. The information you possess can make a real difference. And we’ve come to disagree with far more than Sentinel’s greed and heavy-handed methods. Those of us who have defected now believe that contact with another intelligent race should be embraced, not feared. That the real danger comes in trying to oppose it.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?” she asked, not entirely sure what Tom could possibly say to convince her. Sven, on the other hand, offered little more than a grunt.

  “I know your full name is Mia Ward,” he began. “That you live in Richmond and that you lost your job, your marriage and access to your daughter, largely in that order. I know the last four years you’ve battled an addiction to pharmaceuticals and have been clawing your way back to a normal life ever since. But more than any of that, I know you wanna talk to your daughter again, maybe even see her face.” Tom held up a sat phone. “And if you trust us enough, we can help make those things happen.”

  Tears flowed from her eyes.

  “Mia,” Tom said, his voice taking on an uninterested, matter-of-fact tone. “If we were Sentinel, you would already have been stripped and tortured. And once we’d gotten anything and everything we deemed useful, you’d have been killed. Lucky for you we’re not. But here is what’s happening. Humanity is entering the greatest moment in its history, a time which will lead to either exaltation or extinction. We think you’re the only one who can help get us through it.”

  The USB in Mia’s pocket pressed against her thigh. Surely, if Tom and Sven were the bad guys, they would have snatched it from her and left her for dead once they had what they were after. She flashed back to Armoni’s apartment, their frantic search for the encrypted message and Ollie’s sudden burst of joy at finding it. She clenched her teeth, the rough contours of Ollie’s face still etched in her mind’s eye. Fearing the answer, she asked whether they had seen him.

  Tom’s eyes skittered away before swinging back.

  Fresh tears fought their way to the surface. “Tell me he isn’t dead.”

  Tom shook his head. “Ollie is one of them.”

  Chapter 40

  Jack and Gabby arrived to find Eugene staring into one of the tubes. Rushing up those three levels in rapid succession had only accentuated Jack’s concern over Grant’s condition. Dag and Grant were still two levels behind. Once they finally arrived, Jack and the younger paleontologist would help Grant back to the Orb.

  This new enclosed space Eugene had discovered looked very much like a dormant laboratory. The tubes were arranged in rows, like soldiers on parade, thirty-seven wide and thirty-seven deep. But unlike soldiers, the tubes varied in size. The ones at the front were tiny while those further back were large enough to fit a horse. But regardless of size, all of them had one thing in common. They were empty.

  Gabby pressed her face close to one of the transparent enclosures. “I see a faint hint of residue at the bottom of this one,” she said. “Whatever they made here, it’s long gone.”

  Eugene waved them over to the tube at the far end he was staring into. “You should see this.”

  Jack peered in and saw a pink liquid pooled at the bottom.

  “Was this the way you found it?” Jack asked, surprised and bewildered.

  Eugene glanced up with a hint of guilt. “Uh, well, not exactly.”

  “You touched something?” Gabby said accusingly.

  “Barely, I mean, I was looking around in amazement and my hand must have brushed up against one of these control panels.” He moved his arm back and forth in short choppy motions. “I’m telling you, don’t get too close because these things are on a hair trigger.”

  “Hair trigger for what?” Jack wondered.

  The holographic display beneath the tube was showing what looked like cells splitting apart at a rapid rate.

  Gabby caught Jack’s eye. “I believe it’s creating life.”

  Dag came on the channel. “Jack, I’m gonna need your help with Grant. He lost his footing and I think he might have broken something.”

  Jack started away and then turned to Eugene. “Keep an eye on this stuff, will you? And don’t touch a damn thing. Gabby, watch him, will you?” She nodded. Then to Rajesh. “We may need your help.”

  Chapter 41

  The news that Ollie was a Sentinel sent shockwaves charging through Mia’s body. She shook her head, not wanting to believe it.

  “I’m sorry, Mia,” Tom said, clearly sensitive to how she must be feeling. He pulled out a knife and cut her restraints. “We were worried you’d run out of here and straight into a hail of bullets.”

  “Is it possible you’ve made a mistake?” she asked them, a heavy tinge of desperation on her lips.

  Tom got up, went to the other room and returned with a folder. He handed it to Mia, who flipped through its pages. Clipped on the inside cover was a picture of Ollie along with his pertinent information. His name was the same and so was his Australian background and his work for National Geographic.

  “So far, everything he told me was the truth.”

  “Keep going,” Tom said.

  More pictures followed. The first batch were long-distance shots of Ollie meeting with men in dark business suits.

  “These are known high-level Sentinel operatives,” Tom explained. “We’ve been following him for the last three years, which is how we found you and the package you received from Dr. Salzburg.”

  She turned the page and gasped when she saw the next set of photos. Ollie in a park meeting with Dr. Greg Abbott. Abbott had worked at Alan Salzburg’s lab with them and had been the one to pack up the things from Mia’s office after she was fired. “That rat! Did he have anything to do with Alan’s murder?” she asked, a strange sense of anger and betrayal washing over her. Alan had done terrible things to her and yet she found herself feeling pity for the man. No one deserved to end up burned to a crisp in the trunk of a car.

  “We believe so. He hasn’t been heard from since Alan’s death. But we’re confident Abbott will pop up sooner or later.”

  Tom then reached over and flipped to the last page. On it were images of Ollie on the lawn of a suburban home playing with a young boy, no older than three or four. Nearby was a fetching woman with long blonde hair, watching them. Somehow, this one seemed to hurt the most.

  “What was his mission?” she asked. “In relation to me.”

  Tom took the folder and set it on the table behind him. “To intercept the package by sneaking into your room that night.”
>
  “Was he ordered to kill me?”

  Tom nodded. “From what we know, it was meant to look like a suicide. He was to leave pills by your bedside, as though you’d had a relapse.”

  The daggers kept plunging into her. She struggled to breathe. The room was spinning out of control.

  Tom came in and touched her arm. “I know this is hard. Do you need a minute?”

  “No,” she said, determined. “I want to know everything.”

  “I believe the package arrived sooner than expected and headquarters sent in someone else.”

  She found Tom’s gaze and held it. “You say you want my help to stop Sentinel from pushing the world into chaos?

  “We do.”

  “Then I need something from you.”

  “Name it,” Tom said, a streak of light illuminating his piercing eyes. Unlike Ollie, Tom was serious and intense. Horrible at a cocktail party, but indispensable in a crisis.

  “Sentinel may try to get to me through my daughter. I want her and my ex-husband brought to a safe location until this whole mess is over with.”

  “It’s already been done,” he told her. “We moved in the same day you were attacked at the hotel. We would have grabbed you too, but Ollie reached you first.”

  “Thank goodness,” Mia said, aware that a tremendous weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She brought a hand to her chest, feeling her heart beat normally for the first time in so many hours. Her gaze shifted to the satellite phone sitting by the file folder. “I wanna talk to them.”

  The muscles in his face made a subtle twitch. Something was wrong and he wasn’t telling her.

  “Please tell me they weren’t hurt.” Mia wasn’t sure she could take much more of this.

  “There’s something you should know. It’s about Zoey.”

  That old anxiety was back again in full force. “What did you do?” Mia rose out of her chair, her fists clenched into compact hammers.