Yocto

by Timothy Jon Reynolds

  The second part of her experiment was being funded by private industry. She had brought up freeze-dried frog sperm to be exposed to the radioactivity in Space. Then they would be brought down, revived and used to impregnate a female. After that they would monitor those offspring to see if any had abnormalities.

  If one were to look at the obvious long-term plan here, mankind was trying to learn how to reproduce away from planet Earth. She mused that one day human beings born in Space would study curriculum that listed their experiments as the beginning of that reality.

  She tended to her animals and then exited her laboratory. Each of the scientists on board had their own laboratories; the United States’ was named Destiny. Karen made her way back to the control room. Being who she was, Space was just one big old fun gymnastics routine. She always came through the bulkheads with a touch of flare. Of course, she tried not to do it too much, as those two supposed scientists were always checking out her rear end. She knew how drab men like this could be, as one look at Harshal told you all you needed to know, so she wasn’t totally unappreciative of the attention, but sometimes she feared they did not take her seriously.

  As she pulled herself into her console seat, she could tell something was very wrong; just one look at her shipmates’ faces told that story. She impatiently asked, “What?”

  Anatoly stoically stated in a slight Russian accent, “There are some tensions in China and its surrounding countries right now. There is no way to brace for this news Karen, but somehow, every pig in their whole country died in less than twenty-four hours.”

  Flabbergasted, Karen was making sure that this wasn’t some elaborate Anatoly and Julien hoax at her expense, but somehow she knew that they would never go that far. “How? Biological attack?”

  Julien answered, “No one knows, thus the tensions. The Russian Premier just accused China of letting loose some biological weapon accidently and now trying to cover it up. He is demanding that they come clean.”

  Anatoly chimed back in, “I’m listening to the radio broadcasts at home and I have never heard the rhetoric so strong for us to strike them—now—before their plague reaches our borders.”

  Karen responded with an immediate, “Oh, my God, that is terrifying. What is the world’s response?”

  It was back to Julien to answer, “It’s been basic condemnation of China; seems Russia’s point is valid and is gaining popularity, especially in the West.”

  Karen’s head was spinning as she started thinking about all the things in play that were happening in the United States right now. Her degree was in biochemistry, so she was well versed in pathogens, yet she was confused about what kind of pathogen could be capable of doing such a thing? She was also painfully aware of what could happen if the pathogen were to spread . . . or if that same pathogen changed tactics and jumped species . . . or became airborne . . . or worse, was already airborne.

  Anatoly spoke, “We know what you are thinking; we are thinking it, too. There can only be so many causes of such an event’s origins.” He looked at Karen and all the famous Anatoly mirth was gone, “I fear what my country’s response will be.”

  Until then, everyone had forgotten that Harshal was even in the chamber, but when he spoke, it was with certainty, “It is clearly a manmade weapon,” and those are the only words he spoke.

  2 – Commencements

  The Hotline between Russia and the United States was connecting. He was in a cabinet meeting when Jim Trenton, the Ambassador to Russia, called in with an emergency request for Walter to have a talk with the Russian President.

  In the old days, there was no actual line at all; in fact, the phone in the White House was connected to the Pentagon and not directly to Russia, as was commonly believed. The President would call the Pentagon who would then send an encrypted message to Russia, thus expediting the communication of vital information in near real-time. Nowadays, the times had changed and there was a direct line.

  President Walter Kessel looked at the console in front of him with heavy trepidation. He was the new version of a U.S. President. He had a Green agenda as his main objective and was less willing to use the sword to achieve his goals. He wasn’t really such a new version if one lived when his idol, Jimmy Carter, governed, but in this day and age, he seemed outdated.

  His Russian counterpart on the other end of the line was his polar opposite. He wielded the sword as if it was an extension of his arm. Grigory Yeshevsky was not a bully, but he was stalwart, and he exhibited the kind of decisive behavior that started wars.

  He believed in taking action, then letting the dust settle where it may. That way, he never would be accused of being irresolute, a moniker that hung over Walter’s head to the point it had affected his ratings in the polls, bringing his popularity to an all-time low for his party of thirty-one percent.

  The line started to open, but in that nanosecond, his mind raced. What would this reactionary man do to ensure the safety of his country? Would he actually start a war with China?

  Walter Kessel was not overly nervous and did not shed his stature of professionalism. Although the tag was, “All he needed was the red cardigan and he would be Mr. Rogers,” the beloved children’s television personality, he was anything but. It was true that the two of them held some resemblance in mannerisms and looks, but those were the extent of the similarities.

  Walter Kessel had the same quiet cool that his idol possessed, as he was quite a polished Statesman, but he also had a resolute side that few outside his family had seen.

  Seeing that this wasn’t his fight yet, he was not feeling intimidated by the call, either. In a way, the call was a show of respect, regardless the outcome. “This is Walter Kessel, President of the United States. To whom am I speaking?”

  In a voice void of nationality, the response was, “This is Russian President, Grigory Yeshevsky.”

  Walter responded, “Greetings, Mr. President, I’m very sorry we’re to speak together for the first time under such conditions. What is it I can do for you?”

  After a slight pause on the line, the Russian President replied, “Yes, it is most unfortunate that we have to talk like this, but there is little choice. I know the press is not kind to you there, but Sir, let me personally tell you that you have proven to me that not all men in your country are created equal, and some have visions that don’t involve hegemonic actions.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President; that was unexpected, especially at a time like this.”

  The Russian President finally let a small amount of his natural accent fall in, “Well, Sir, to me, this is exactly the time to bring this up, because my scientists tell me I have scant minutes to act on this, or we are surely doomed, as then you are, in due time. The determination is this was a biological warfare violation by the Chinese, and I must tell you, Sir, that I am actually in need of what you possess, the kind of mindset to get us out of this.”

  Walter’s mind raced, Jesus Christ, he’s actually asking me to help avert his country from annihilating China. Then the side of him that he hated took over. That would be a bad thing, but there are some in my right wing who would look the other way on this bad thing. “Mr. President, may I call you Grigory?”

  The Russian President responded, “Yes, Sir, of course.”

  “Okay, Grigory, thank you, and in the future, please call me Walter. Our people point us in directions that they deem we MUST go or it’s doomsday, but oftentimes it is you and I who must see through even our own people’s rhetoric. You have built a persona that they might be trying to live up to. We don’t know enough about what this is to act so aggressively. Let’s be more pragmatic for one minute. If this is a biological weapons breakout, then we will know soon enough.

  “Your country, like mine, I’m sure, is taking measures to protect our livestock as fast as we can, but we must not take action until we know more. Our people have done the math, as yours must have as well. If it has spread that quickly inside their own country, then it would be a super bug
and would have spread out to outlying countries already, but it hasn’t. We agree something is amiss here, and we certainly do not believe what Premier Yu has told us—that China has no knowledge of the origins of this—but we must wait.

  “All I can tell you, Grigory, is that the United States will provide your country any aid you need, including sending scientific teams to help. I do not think listening to your military advisors is a good idea at this time. We also see the massive troop movements within their borders, as they must also realize what this could lead to.”

  Walter had the sense of static silence on the line, but then realized it must be in his head, because the line was crystal clear. The Russian President broke the silence with his response, “What you say is all true, Mr. President.”

  The U.S. President cut in, “Walter, Grigory, please.”

  “Very well, and what you say is all true, Walter, but I still have a heavy burden on me. If we are wrong, then we will be hit soon, and if this is able to jump species, well then, Walter, we do not need to discuss our response any further. If one Russian dies from this plague, then there will be a wildfire that I will not be able to contain.”

  “Okay, fair enough, Grigory, but until then, let’s focus on the now.”

  * * *

  Jack Zarifis walked into a world of madness. His office was taxed with helping track down any possible pork imports from China. Although not on the list of items imported from that country, it was well known that a lot of items made their way into the U.S. Asian market through all kinds of means.

  As soon as he walked in, David signaled him to come into his office. Their office was a typical government issued facility—no frills, nothing fancy, with green tile floors and typical drop ceilings. David’s office was all glass and sat right in the middle, so Jack was easy to spot walking in. He went in and sat down as David was finishing a phone call. When he finished, he addressed his young protégée, “I know I don’t need to brief you. Everything the media is releasing is all we know at this point. We are super short on staff, so you and I are taking a drive up to Stockton. The Stockton P.D. is going to play liaison for us to go on some meet and greets. This is the real deal, Jack.”

  Jack nodded agreement and added, “You know, there’s a good chance that any pigs we locate will already be dead.”

  His boss answered seriously, “Not if we find the carrier. Now let’s bring an animal control team and go see if we can help prevent a catastrophe.”

  The drive was a short one, as Stockton was just north of Modesto, maybe a half an hour at the most. David was doing some thinking out loud as they drove, “So they have an event that kills every pig in their country in less than a day? How has it not spread? How can an agent kill so many things in such a rapid time period?”

  Jack was thinking out loud, “Maybe the isolationist attitude of the host country has played into this positive outcome so far. Maybe it was something they ingested over a period of time and it acted now?”

  They both knew that not a lot of this made sense, including going to Stockton to search for swine, but then again, Stockton was the perfect place to go search for Chinese pigs, as Stockton was a port city. It was located at the top of the Sacramento Delta and had a very large Asian population.

  They drove up Highway 99 and then over to I-5 where you could see the expanse of the Port of Stockton. It didn’t take much of an imagination to see how things could get in illegally; Jack knew that, as his office made busts there regularly. The Asian community was one of the worst offenders when it came to disregarding animal quarantine laws.

  The officer they were to meet up with was a Vietnamese-

  American who was to play translator. They pulled up a block from the rural house and waited for Officer Nguyen to arrive. After five minutes, a police cruiser pulled up and they all were briefed before they made a move on the house.

  A Vietnamese-American by the name of Sonny Tran owned the house, and Sonny was well known to the Agriculture office. His meat packing company sold exclusively to the Asian community. He was known to buy his goods from the lowest bidder, and often that bidder was China. Sonny continued to import and sell smuggled meat and vegetables although he had been cited numerous times.

  Officer Nguyen warned them both that they were to remain ten steps behind him, and if Mr. Tran refused their entry, then they would have to get a Federal warrant to enter his property. A warrant, they promised him, would be delivered in minutes if Tran refused. They explained to Officer Nguyen that due to the amount of ground being covered today, they would have no other back up; he was their back up. The animal control team would wait until Jack signaled them before they came to move in.

  Officer Nguyen knocked on the door of the unkempt house. It was a red, single story ranch house that sat on the outskirts of Stockton. There were still plenty of places in the area where you could get a place on an acre or more to raise livestock. By the smell of the place, Jack was pretty sure there were animals in the house itself. The house was faded, with a flat white roof and a small yard that was traced by a three-foot high fence that was oxidized and rusted intermittently; the grass was long dead, as were all of the flowerbeds.

  The door slowly creaked open and a weathered looking Vietnamese man came out. He was wearing only pants, no shirt or shoes.

  It seemed like Mr. Tran and Officer Nguyen talked for an inordinate amount of time, and when they finally stopped, Officer Nguyen came over to them with Mr. Tran’s proposition. If they could accept the fact that there were no pigs in the house, then they could look around freely. He wouldn’t let them in, but he certainly had no pigs in his house.

  Jack checked the air outside again and was not so sure about that declaration, but it did seem a reasonable proposition that the man did not have pigs in his house, and truthfully they hadn’t the time to haggle.

  David thought it out and agreed. While they were being given access to the property, Mr. Tran looked up at David Ho towering over him like giant and had a look like he was seeing an illusion.

  The interior of the property was bigger than it appeared from the outside, and when they entered they saw it housed two barns, a cow paddock, a large pigpen, and a sheep enclosure. All had animals in them. David led the man over to the pigpen. Inside were a large sow with seven piglets, and a juvenile pig that could have been from a previous litter of the sow, since it was being given access to the piglet area so freely.

  David spoke to Mr. Tran with some urgency, “Where did you get these pigs? And are these the only pigs on the property?”

  Officer Nguyen relayed the questions and the answer seemed to take forever. Jack was starting to think that even if they spoke his language, they would not think very highly of Mr. Tran’s intelligence. Jack mused that maybe he was being annoying on purpose just to get their goat. Finally Officer Nguyen returned and stated, “He claims to have had that sow for two years; he won her in a poker game. The Juvenile is his lucky pig from her last litter. He is planning on cooking it when his daughter marries soon. He claims to have no other pigs on the property.”

  David looked over the enclosure and it seemed to be a plausible scenario for what he was seeing, so he replied, “Okay, but we need to check the rest of the property.”

  Officer Nguyen relayed the message to Tran and a deal was struck; they would be allowed to check the rest of the property, including the two barns, as long as there was not going to be any repercussions for what they found. David reluctantly agreed out of need to expedite things, as this was a matter of national security. Both barns, it was soon discovered, contained exotic animals. The first barn held all sorts of turtles, amphibians, and frogs, while in the second barn they found snakes, mostly poisonous varieties, for private collectors, Jack assumed. But no pigs.

  Mr. Tran looked like a man waiting for the hammer of justice to fall, but true to his word, David was all about insuring the immediate safety of the country.

  Mr. Tran’s worries were easing as they passed by his pigpen
and his lucky pig came over to greet him as he walked by. As they were going by, Jack looked back to see the pig kind of dancing for Mr. Tran, but he then realized it was something else. He stopped David with his hand on the back of his shoulder and they both turned to look. To Jack, the pig looked like a human does when it’s choking and trying to get someone to help without using words, just frantic behavior. Its stress heightened, when suddenly it squealed and toppled over, twitching in a kind of death dance on the ground.

  Stunned, they glanced into the enclosure and saw what they all had missed; Mr. Tran’s lucky pig was the last to die in the pigpen. The sow and all her offspring were already dead.

  David was already on the run to the animal control vehicle. Both he and Jack had radios, but it just seemed prudent to run to get to Warren and Miguel. They were going to need a containment team here right away. Mr. Tran was already in cuffs at their order to Officer Nguyen; he had obviously lied as to where he got those pigs.

  They went out past the chain-link fence and discovered that Warren Donnels and Miguel Garcia were already there, both with a terrified look on their faces. Jack was wondering how they already knew when Warren said, “It’s started in the United States, too. We just got word that Texas, Georgia, and Virginia have all had big die-offs.”

  David looked at Warren, with his pre-maturely bald head glistening in the sun, and knew that none of them would have a normal life again for months or years now, as this was war, and it was their war; no one else was armed like they were, and no one else could save the U.S. now.