The Farpool_Exodus

by Philip Bosshardt

  “You must have something on this, Dr. Westerlund.” It wasn’t a question.

  Westerlund cleared her throat. “I do, Madame President. NOAA has been monitoring the reports and satellite data on several zones of—” how could she say this?—“—unusual environmental disturbances, especially in the southeast Asia area and the western Pacific. Growing zones of toxic air in the Philippines, rapidly spreading deforestation in the Central Highlands of Vietnam, seismic reports on the growing frequency and magnitude of earthquakes, evidence of shifting tectonic masses below ground.”

  Kendrick was thoughtful. “Solnet is reporting there are continuing high-level alerts at UN Bioshield, something about excessive nanobotic activity…what the hell is that all about?”

  Westerlund nodded. “The alerts indicated nanobotic activity over and above the lawful amount was occurring in northwest Philippines, some—“ here Westerlund checked her notes—“ fifty miles upriver from the district capital on Apo Island. BioShield contacted the Philippine Ministry of Public Health and the Interior Ministry. Some native tribes suffered extensive casualties, to this moment, unexplained. In fact, I have some vid of a news conference the inspectors had with BioShield…right here—” she ported the files from her slate to everyone else in the Oval Office. Soon they were all studying their slates as the vidfile loaded and launched.

  The first image was of Dr. Hector del Compo.

  Del Compo was a compact, dark-haired man, with steel-rim glasses. He consulted some notes off-screen.

  “The results of our inspection were surprising,” del Compo noted. “I’m sending the compiled data now.” A new squirt off the satellite refreshed all screens and several plots and graphs materialized into view.

  “BioShield data showed the center of this perturbation was in the vicinity of a small Indian village called Via Verde. The territory is along the Yemanha River in upper highlands of Apo Island. This territory is home to a small tribe called Xotetli…or, I should say, was. The Xotetli were a protected tribe, basically Bronze Age forest-dwellers which the Filipino government was trying to protect from ranchers and loggers.”

  A BioShield inspector named Kraft cut in gruffly. “Doctor, BioShield has a mandate to search for airborne nanobotic mechanisms and that’s all. We don’t want another pandemic like Serengeti scourging the world. If BioShield was tripped, some kind of nanoscale mechanism was in play, replicating in the area.”

  “I thought the same,” del Compo admitted. “When we arrived at the site, our investigators noticed right away a sort of aires viciado, a kind of bubble or zone of toxic air had developed. In and around Via Verde, the Xotetli tribe had all died, of asphyxiation. Scores of them. We did auto-autopsy on several and discovered the symptoms you see on your screens…hypercapnia, blue lips and cheeks, excessive concentrations of CO2 and other toxic gases in their blood and lungs.”

  “Excuse me, Doctor…” Another BioShield rep spoke up. “You said the entire tribe had died?”

  “We found no survivors. The air in and around the village and along the riverbanks for several kilometers up and downstream was composed of gases in the concentrations I have displayed here…as you can see, toxic levels of fluorine and chlorine, carbon dioxide and reduced levels of oxygen and nitrogen.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” Kraft studied the data. “Normal air is seventy-eight percent nitrogen and twenty-one percent oxygen. This is all cock-eyed…are you sure your instruments are calibrated, Doctor?”

  “Perfectly,” del Compo said. “The air even affected me and my inspectors. We had to vacate the area…it was too dangerous for us there. No, the data are real, gentlemen. There is a bubble or zone of toxic air over Apo Island and the surrounding jungle and it’s expanding outward. We’re not sure where the source is, though some evidence suggests it’s in or around a grotto of caves further upriver, a place called Sepulveda. We tried to go there but we couldn’t—“

  Kraft raised a bushy eyebrow. “You suspect what, exactly, Doctor…an illegal nanobotic reservoir?”

  “Possibly, General. Whatever it is, it’s changing the air in that whole area, and every living thing, Xotetli Indians, jungle life, everything, is being affected. Mass casualties are piling up along the riverbanks. Several villages downstream have already reported floating corpses in the water.”

  Kraft checked with someone behind him and returned to the screen. “UNIFORCE confirms that atmospheric perturbations were detected in the area you’re talking about, Doctor. Satellite and aerial ‘bot inspection have characterized the phenomena as a ‘toxic cloud’ spreading outward from Apo, altering the composition of the atmosphere, breaking down ozone and other molecules. “So far, it’s said to be a relatively small-scale event, but whatever it is, it’s resistant to nanobotic intervention to this point. BioShield has deployed enforcement nano into the area with no effect…”

  Westerlund ended the vid. “Madame President, we’re not sure, and neither is BioShield, about what we’re dealing with here.”

  “Is it possibly related to what the Chinese and the Sea People are doing?” Kendrick asked.

  “I can answer that,” interjected Hartledge, consulting his own slate for notes. “We know from our sources that the Chinese, possibly with the help of this one faction of Sea People, have discovered something on the seabed of the South China Sea, some kind of structure. The exact details of what has been discovered aren’t fully known, but it seems to be some kind of reservoir of nanobotic devices…we don’t know if it’s something the Sea People developed, or the Chinese developed, or maybe it’s indigenous…we just don’t know yet. But there are people in BioShield who are telling me that this nanobotic reservoir is expanding—rapidly—and that it’s responsible for the environmental and climatic changes we’re seeing in the area.”

  This made Kendrick’s eyes blink a few times. “Really, General? Dr. Westerlund, do you agree with this analysis?”

  Westerlund was first and foremost a scientist. She liked to deal in facts and evidence. “It can’t be ruled out, Madame President. It is true that we’ve seen a so-far-unexplainable increase in seismic activity, atmospheric disturbance and similar effects.”

  “What about all those waterspouts ships have been reporting…some kind of meteorological phenomenon?” asked Bergland.

  Westerlund shrugged. She realized such a gesture wasn’t very scientific, but it couldn’t be helped.

  “Possibly, we just don’t have enough data yet.”

  Kendrick sighed. Scientists…and their data. “I can’t wait for all the data to come in. You scientists will analyze this to death. I have some decisions to make here.”

  Bergland spoke up. “Madame President, if I may, we may not have all the data in, but it seems to me that there’s something going on between the Sea Peoples and the Chinese. We need to know what that is and what threat does it pose to our interests. If the Chinese have some new technology they’ve gotten from the Sea Peoples and they can now modify the environment at will—” Bergland sat back, pleased at his own analysis—” I don’t have to tell all of us here what that could mean. The possibilities for mischief, for extortion, are endless, even mind-boggling.”

  Kendrick folded her arms and sat back in her chair, crossing her statuesque black legs as if to emphasize her decisiveness. “Agreed. Options, gentlemen?”

  Bergland raised his hands, a six-year old trying to get the teacher’s attention. “I have one, Madame President.”

  Kendrick tried to hide a condescending smirk at the SecDef’s antics. “Go ahead, Mr. Secretary.”

  “I propose a joint Russian-American special operation. Call if Operation Vector Eye. I even have the details right here—” he held up his slate. “We join forces with the Russian Navy…the Morskoi Flot—to send a small force to the South China Sea and investigate these strange goings-on. On-scene ground truth is bound to be better than all of General Hartledge’s signals analysis and whiz-bang technology.”

  “If the Russians wil
l play ball,” Hartledge said caustically.

  Kendrick knew she needed to be decisive in this matter, especially in front of these testosterone bags. “Okay, I like it. Approved. Get with State on how to present this proposal.”

  Hartledge wasn’t going to be outdone by some twerp at Defense. “Madame President, there is something else we could do.”

  Kendrick had visions of her poll numbers going south in a hurry if she didn’t handle the ‘Sea People Crisis’ right. “And what is that?”

  “We’ve used this civilian, the girl Angie Gilliam, before as a sort of spy-covert operator, inside the Sea Peoples’ base. She’s tight with this Chase Meyer character. I propose we basically suborn Ms. Gilliam to go inside the Bermuda base as a human spy…since, as the Secretary so eloquently points out, ground truth is always preferable—and act as a source for us from there. Call it Operation Pearlstone, if you like.”

  Kendrick sniffed. “The Attorney General said that what we did with Ms. Gilliam before was barely legal and now you want to do this? What’s the justification?”

  “National security.”

  Kendrick looked doubtful but acceded to the request. “Okay, I’ll approve it if the A-G approves it. Operation Pearlstone…where’d you come up with that?”

  Hartledge smiled faintly. “When you cause just enough irritation in a clam, you can get something beautiful and lasting as a result.”

  Kendrick stifled a chuckle. “If you say so, General. Operation Pearlstone it is.”

  Three hours later and nine hundred miles to the south, FBI agents Donovan and Olens knocked loudly on the door to Unit B-6 at the Coconut Cabana Apartments in Gainesville, Florida. After a moment’s discussion through the door, Angie Gilliam opened up and beheld two federal badges in her face.

  She took a deep breath and wished to God she were anywhere but here. “Let me get a few things, please—"

  Hainan Island

  The South China Sea

  August 2, 2115

  The Chinese quickly learned, through their own sources, what the American and the Russians were planning. One of their sources was none other than Ponkti tukmaster Loptoheen tu kel: Ponk’et himself, who had come to the PLA Navy base at Longpo to work out details of their budding alliance.

  By signaler arrangement, the Ponkti delegation had come to Longpo to meet with Chinese officials and discuss possible arrangements between them. Loptoheen piloted a single kip’t into the underground submarine pens and parked the ship in an occupied slip. He had two passengers: one was a Ponkti engineer-scientist named Yakto.

  The other passenger was the Metah herself, Lektereenah kim. The Metah had come to make sure that any arrangements benefited the Ponkti profitably and to finally meet “these strange Tailless creatures.”

  A movable lift platform had been built into the side of the pier and it was onto this lift that Loptoheen settled the kip’t. The lift could be raised or lowered into and out of the water. After previous meetings, it had been Admiral Hu Zhejiang’s idea to create such a platform for meetings. “The Seomish are marine creatures,” he had argued. “They prefer to be around water. It’s not easy for them to get around in their suits.” The platform would enable the Ponkti to be partially submerged and so even in full mobilitors, most of their weight would be offset by the suits’ buoyancy.

  Hu was certain the Ponkti would appreciate the arrangements. That alone might make them more amenable to Chinese overtures. Hu was keenly interested in everything he could learn about the nanoscopic creatures infesting the seabed around the Reed Banks, creatures that were at least in part autonomous robotic agents able to swarm and assemble molecular structures at high-speed, creatures that had already begun to assemble odd conical devices on the seabed, creatures that had already filtered away from their reservoir, emerged from the sea and affected the ocean and climates in nearby lands.

  Accompanying Admiral Hu were numerous others, among them Dr. Li Kejiang of the Guangzhou Institute and Dr. Chu Zuwon from the Academy of Sciences in Beijing.

  Hu watched in rapt fascination as the kip’t canopy slid back and three Ponkti emerged, clad in full mobilitors. They stepped awkwardly out of the kip’t and two of them ducked immediately under the water, taking a few experimental laps around the perimeter of the platform. Loptoheen spoke first, his words translated and amplified by echopods.

  “Skreeah….we appreciate this---” he indicated the mobile lift platform. “Affectionate Metah, Lektereenah kim kel: Ponk’et, greets you. She must move about for…zzzhhh…some time…to adjust to our suits---”

  Admiral Hu introduced his people, wishing especially that Loptoheen would come to know the scientists there. Both Dr. Li and Dr. Chu bowed deeply, clinging over the pier railing to study Loptoheen as if he were a lab specimen.

  Lektereenah emerged from her little jaunt. The echopod now blared a different voice.

  “Kah…I hate these suits…you come into water talk we--?”

  Hu smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Madame…your Majesty.” How did you address someone of high rank among these creatures? “Neither of my scientists can swim well. Is there anything else we can do to make you more comfortable?”

  Lektereenah swore, but the echopod only translated static and buzz. “Make…zzzhhh…agreement…alliance with Ponkti…we say kel’tet in our speak….”

  Hu agreed. He pulled out a small slate, examined the text. “I have done as your Loptoheen requested and recorded by voice our conditions and proposals. You wish to examine now?”

  Lektereenah indicated yes and the Admiral handed Loptoheen the separate echopod he had been given, hopefully filled with voices explaining the nature of the proposed alliance, as the Chinese saw it.

  Then Hu was momentarily startled with the three Ponkti immediately ducked under the water, with the proposal pod and started roaming about the submarine pen. The Admiral swallowed his security concerns—there was a new Chengdu-class fast attack boat two slips away, with experimental sonar resistant coatings that he knew were highly classified, but Hu said and did nothing, aware that the Sea People could examine these things any time they wanted and probably knew more about sound and sonar than any human on Earth anyway.

  The Ponkti scooted and roamed about the pen for a few minutes, playing and listening to the recorded and translated voices of the Chinese on the echopod. Lektereenah made a counter offer and the details were recorded on the same pod.

  Presently, all three Ponkti surfaced. Loptoheen handed the pod back.

  “Skreeah…some changes made we…you listen--?”

  Hu took the pod, shook the water off, and said, “We’ll study it.”

  The Chinese retired to a small room off the pier…it had been the machine shop but had been renovated and outfitted as a sort of command post for meetings with their new allies. After ten minutes, the Chinese made small changes, gave the pod back to Loptoheen and the Ponkti roamed and discussed and in this way, final arrangements of what Lektereenah had called kel’tet were worked out.

  Lektereenah emerged from the water and stood close to the railing. She gave the pod back to Admiral Hu and their hands touched briefly, lingering in the touch, while Hu and the Metah stared across at each other…Chinese and Ponkti, Tailless and Seomish, eyeing each other across a gap of thousands of light-years and generations of time, both dimly aware of the manifold choices and paths Evolution sometimes took.

  Lektereenah’s voice issued from her echopod, full of clicks and whistles, squeaks and grunts.

  “We understand…zzzhhh…not Tailless ways. Ponkti pulse to know…ke’shoo and ke’lee is our way…we sound and listen….”

  When Hu looked puzzled, Dr. Li intervened. “Admiral, I’ve studied their culture, what we know of it. The Institute has contacts at UNISEA, and also at Woods Hole and Scripps.”

  Hu blinked, smelling the decaying odor of fish on the Metah’s breath. For a few moments, the Admiral and the Metah eyed each other, like boxers trying to stare down an opponent, though the Ponkti
ruler whistled and clicked the whole time.

  I could have much guanxi in the Party if this works out, Hu told himself. His eyes watered in the stench and smell. A clear path to the Central Committee, maybe even the Central Military Commission.

  “What do your contacts tell you?” Hu asked.

  “The Sea People are creatures of sound. Their eyes aren’t so good.”

  Hu snorted. “It seems as if she was measuring me for a casket, with her eyes.”

  “No, no, all those clicks and whistles…she’s trying to read you by sound. Only sound works differently in air. That’s probably why she seems a little puzzled.”

  Hu shrugged. “Do these echopod gadgets really work? Do they understand us?”

  Li said, “We feel that they do, at least at some level. As to ke’shoo and ke’lee…well, we have theories, but most of us feel the Sea People engage in physical contact a lot, much more than we do. Perhaps it has to do with that.”

  Hu continued glaring at Lektereenah, who wobbled a bit in her mobilitor and began easing herself back down into the water. “Well, I’m not going to pet her on the head, if that’s what you’re suggesting. In fact, I want to ask some questions.”

  “I would suggest just asking directly. The taller one—” by this, Dr. Li indicated Loptoheen—”seems to understand us better.”

  Hu straightened up at the railing and turned to face Loptoheen. “Very well. I want to know more about these creatures they’ve discovered near Reed Banks, and those structures they’re building.”

  Loptoheen seemed to understand. Now, only the Ponkti tukmaster stood above the water. Lektereenah and Yakto were fully submerged, taking off on short jaunts around the submarine pens from time to time.

  “Shhkreeah…we call them m’jeete. Though they machines are, they remind us mah’jeet…the small organisms that poison our waters.”

  Hu asked, ”Where do these…m’jeete…come from? Did you bring them here…to our territorial waters?”