by Shain Carter
After several tries the words “HOW LONG?”, in red letters, appeared on the screen. Becker looked up triumphantly.
“Great - got it!” he exclaimed, then, looking over, he noticed Dawson and Burt standing in the doorway. He glared at them. “Gentlemen, I’ve been waiting for you. Please sit down there so we can get started.”
The man pointed to two seats at his end of the table. Dawson deliberately took a seat at the opposite end, away from Becker. Becker frowned, then began fussing again with the laptop.
Becker’s attention on the laptop gave Dawson a chance to study him. Becker was somewhat older than Burt, Dawson judged - probably in his late thirties. He had sandy blond hair that, Dawson noticed when he turned to the screen, was thinning considerably in the back. He wore formal clothing, which seemed to better suit the room than the others their casual clothes.
Finally satisfied with the image on the screen, Becker turned to his audience and spread his arms wide. “Welcome one and all to my humble abode. I am Derek Becker”. He paused, seemingly expecting some reaction from his guests. Getting none, he continued, “You no doubt already know all about me, just as I know all about you. But you don't know each other, so before I get started I’ll take a minute for you to go around the room and introduce yourselves.”
Derek motioned to Alec, and one by one they recited their name and a short description of their field of study. Based on the reactions of the other scientists to these brief biographies, Dawson guessed that he was the only one of them who had any advanced knowledge of who the others were. This was particularly obvious with Ted, who furiously pecked out notes on a tablet he was holding. His face registered surprise and delight as each scientist described their area of expertise.
When they were finished, Derek picked up a remote control unit from the table and pushed several buttons. The overhead lights dimmed and motors whirred as the drapes on all the windows pulled closed, making it much easier to see the display screen. Derek fussed again with the laptop then cleared his throat self-consciously.
“I have a short, fascinating presentation that I am sure you will all enjoy and learn from. I will begin with several observations I have made recently. Observations that may not seem important or even related to one another, but are in fact both. I will then develop from these observations an entirely new and original theory of mine - a seemingly unbelievable theory that I will prove to you must be right! Only then, when you understand the full implications of my theory, will I discuss the program that I will successfully complete this summer with your assistance.”
Dawson sighed and leaned back in his chair, trying to get comfortable. Around him Dawson could hear the others shifting positions as well. He wondered if they, like him, expected that this presentation would be both long and boring.
Becker cleared his throat again. "I’ll begin by posing the simple question ‘how long?’ If every living human was to suddenly vanish from the face of the Earth today, how long would it take for all evidence of our advanced civilization to disappear?”
Ted twisted in his seat and thrust his hand high in the air. Derek ignored him, preferring to answer the question himself. “Obviously, this depends on how long our most durable artifacts will survive. But that doesn't answer the question, it merely recasts it. Now we must ask, 'What are those artifacts?' I’ll go through a few I’ve thought of, then you can see if you can do any better.”
Derek clicked a button on the laptop. The screen filled with the image of an old, decaying parking lot. The white lines were only just visible, and weeds and an occasional sapling pushed up through the web of cracks that crisscrossed the pavement surface. “Roads are fairly durable, and they’re both big and plentiful here in the U.S. This is a picture of the parking lot of a restaurant that closed about seven years ago. I’d guess that, if left neglected, you would have trouble finding any evidence of pavement after fifty years. Certainly after a few hundred years there would be nothing left but a little loose gravel, and even that will disperse after a few more hundred years.”
Murmurs of agreement sounded from around the room and Derek advanced to the next slide, a picture of an aircraft carrier. “What about a massive metal object, something like this ship? If we were to all instantly disappear, it would simply float around for a while. Ten years, twenty years, maybe a hundred - who knows? But it would eventually ground itself, or rust through and sink. If it grounded itself, or sank in shallow water, it would completely rust away in a matter of centuries. If it sank in cold, deep water, it might stay preserved on the ocean floor for millennia. The Titanic, for instance, was remarkably preserved when its remains were discovered nearly ninety years after sinking. But eventually, after ten, maybe twenty thousand years, the metal would completely oxidize and dissolve away. Anything that was left would get scattered and covered with silt.
"So we've gone from a few centuries to ten thousand years. But we can do one better when we consider large cities."
An aerial view of a large, sprawling city flashed on the screen. Becker took a laser pointer from his pocket and used it to indicate landmarks on the screen.
“London, of course. There’s parliament, Big Ben, the London Tower. You can just see Kew Gardens up here.
“Now, how long would it take a huge city like London to revert to nature? Believe it or not, in the late 80’s a researcher the Netherlands did a study to determine just that. His conclusion? The initial steps would be pretty quick. Over the first few decades buildings would tumble, bridges would crash down into rivers, vegetation would gain a strong foothold on paved surfaces. Within a few centuries it would be difficult to identify any landmarks or even the overall city plan. Some things would survive much longer, of course, possibly as long as several tens of thousands of years. That's about how long artifacts from primitive man have survived, and look how difficult it is to find them. But given more time, say a hundred thousand years, all evidence of the existence of London - or any other city or town - will be erased."
Becker turned and faced his audience.
“A hundred thousand years. Anyone think they can top that?”
Ted, who had been wriggling in his seat the entire time, jumped at the opportunity to speak. "The pyramids? They could easily go a hundred times that."
Becker smiled condescendingly down at Ted. "Not even close, Professor Krezler. They'll actually go before cities. Even if they didn't, they're just rocks. They wouldn’t really tell anyone a million years from now that we had a technologically advanced civilization. Anyone else care to try?"
Meredith spoke next. “Anything made out of unreactive metals, like platinum or gold. Art objects, or wedding bands…”
At this Derek, George and Burt burst into laughter. Meredith stopped abruptly, confused and embarrassed by this unexpected reaction.
“Right you are, Professor Nelson, right you are,” Derek crowed. “But these things are specific to our culture. They are made possible by our intelligence, but are not required of it. If our culture was slightly different these artifacts would not exist. Anything else?”
The unexpected laughter at Meredith's suggestion had a discouraging effect on the others, and no one else said anything. Derek smiled.
“So all traces of intelligent Man will be lost after a few hundred thousand years. Let's say a million, just to be on the safe side. That is point number one. Remember it, and we’ll move on.”
The picture of London was replaced by close-up of a brightly colored bird. Derek explained that it was one of the finches Darwin encountered on his celebrated trip to the Galapagos Islands aboard the HMS Beagle. The isolation of these birds and their efficient adaptation to the unique environs of each island were the inspiration Darwin drew upon to develop his theory of evolution.
"Darwin’s Finches are still being studied by evolutionary biologists today,” Derek told them. "These biologists have recently concluded that environmental pressures as seemingly mild as a few seasons of drought can cause measurable changes in t
hese birds' offspring. The biologists estimate that a permanent change in environment would result in the development of an entirely new finch species in as little as two hundred years. Just a blink of the eye in geological terms.
"My point? Evolution can proceed at an incredible rate. Nature doesn’t just fill a niche, she fills it fast. If there is an evolutionary advantage for a particular trait, then some animal will develop that trait quickly. So that’s point two."
The scientists nodded their agreement. Becker, encouraged by his success, pressed on. The next slide showed the naked figure of a creature that was somewhere between ape and man. It stood upright, but stooped, and was entirely covered with hair. Massive brows nearly obscured its vacant eyes. Its flat, broad nose covered a substantial portion of its wide face. In one hand it held a shaped stone.
Derek circled the creature with the red light of his laser pointer. "Now here's a brute you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley - not very tall, but quite a fighter. This is Homo habilis, the first tool maker. Believed by some to be one of your distant ancestors. Distant in some ways, but not so distant in others. Certainly he is distant in terms of his mental abilities. He was an animal, in every sense of the word. His brain cavity was quite small by human standards, but well in line with other mammals of his size. He hunted like an animal. He formed primitive societies, but they were unsophisticated and animal like, like those of modern apes. Despite his agility and dexterity he made only limited use of a few basic tools. These tools did not develop over time, but stayed the same, generation after generation, for nearly a million years.
"He was very distant from us in terms of abilities and behaviors, but not so distant in terms of time. He died out roughly half a million years ago, which is very recent if one considers that life has existed on earth for at least three and a half billion years. And we have other equally animal-like ancestors in our more recent past. Primitives with large brain cavities didn't appear until around two hundred thousand years ago. All the evidence suggests that it wasn't until about forty thousand years ago, when Cro-Magnon man made his entrance, that our ancestors began using that extra brainpower to actually think. And it still took him more than thirty thousand years to even begin to form stable, cooperative societies, with towns, agriculture and so on. The fact is, man distinguished himself from animals only a dozen or so millennium ago. Think of it - from ignorant beast to intelligent thinker in just a few thousand years!”
Becker pushed a button on the laptop and the image of a full year calendar appeared on the screen.
"The amount of time it took for intelligence to develop in man is even more remarkable when we put it in perspective. If we compressed the entire history of life on earth to one year, beginning on January first with the first single cell organisms, then we would find multicellular life appearing in the late spring. Vertebrates - large animals with internal skeletal systems - made their entrance in late summer. The reign of the dinosaurs began in early November and lasted until after Christmas.
"And man? Our friend Homo habilis came appeared late on December 31’st and died out during the very last hour of that very last day of the year. Recorded history doesn’t start until a remarkable five hundred seconds before midnight. Less than ten minutes before the end of the entire year! Man developed from total animal to intellectual in just the briefest fraction of time that life has been here on earth.
"That intelligence develops so fast should not be a surprise. After all, only a moment ago I showed you how Nature can fill a niche very, very quickly. The surprise here is that it took so long for the niche to be identified, that an advantage as obvious and beneficial as intelligence should not have been exploited sooner. Why didn't intelligence develop, say, in November, or even in early December, which would have been three hundred million years ago? What could possibly be different about evolutionary pressures then that prevented intelligence from developing sooner, or that diminished its enormous benefits?"
With a flourish Derek slapped a key on the laptop and the image of the calendar was replaced with four words written in bold red letters: WHAT IS DIFFERENT NOW?
Dawson gazed at the words, then glanced around the room at the others. Ted, who had been drumming the table with his fingers, stared unblinkingly at the screen, his hand frozen in mid-tap. Alec and Meredith were equally transfixed by the words on the screen. Dawson turned his attention back to Derek. For the first time Derek had the full and undivided attention of all the scientists, and he clearly loved it. They were hanging on to his every word. And for a long moment Derek stood there grinning, letting them hang, their minds scrambling to find an answer to this seemingly simple query.
“You’re thinking too hard - the answer is easy!” Derek chided, but still no one said anything.
Then, slowly and deliberately, Derek spoke a single word.
"Nothing."
Clearly this was not the answer the scientists were expecting. They sat silently, not understanding, for another moment before Derek continued.
"Absolutely nothing,” he repeated. “There is not a single thing fundamentally unique to modern times that makes the evolution of intelligence possible now and not possible a hundred million years ago. And not only could it have happened, it did happen. The only difference is that mammals are the recipient of intelligence today, while a hundred million years ago it was the then-rulers of the earth, the dinosaurs, who were the recipients."
The spell was broken. Meredith audibly let her breathe out as Alec chuckled and Ted, once again, began tapping his fingers.
“I don’t think you’d get much argument on that,” Ted grinned. “I read just last week about a theory that some groups of dinosaurs hunted in packs using strategies every bit as sophisticated as wolves use. And wolves are about the most intelligent hunters around today.”
Alec and Meredith nodded in mute agreement. But Derek pushed his clinched fists against his forehead in frustration. "No, no, no! You don’t get it, Krezler. None of you do. Wolves are not intelligent. They are dumb animals. They can’t read, they can’t write, they don’t solve differential equations or design bridges. You’ve been brainwashed into thinking that we live in some kind of a special time when it comes to intelligence. A time so special that even our dumb animals are as smart as the smartest dinosaurs! What arrogance!”
Dawson shrugged, unimpressed by Derek’s outburst. “It’s not arrogance, it’s reality. If those are the criteria you’re using to define intelligence, then dinosaurs weren’t intelligent. They were just a bunch of dumb animals.”
Derek hit the table with his open hand. The laptop bounced roughly. He spoke each word slowly. “They were not dumb animals.” He glared at Jones. “They were every bit as intelligent as we are - more intelligent, even. They were intelligent enough to do everything we can do, and then some. And then a lot, in fact. They were intelligent enough to build nuclear weapons and they died out sixty-five million years ago as the result of nuclear holocaust!”
The words caught everyone by surprise. Ted giggled and Alec drooped his head onto his chest, chuckling. Meredith smiled and shook her head slowly. Dawson snorted and pushed his chair back, feeling foolish at having taken Derek seriously.
“Oh, come on, Becker,” Ted howled. “Nuclear war didn’t kill the dinosaurs. Everyone knows it was climate change from a meteor. All you have to do is look at the thin layer of iridium at the K-T boundary.”
Derek’s face reddened at the tone of Ted’s reply. His hands trembled, and when he replied it was through clenched teeth. “A nuclear winter in every way mimics the climate changes expected for a large meteorite. In both cases atmospheric dust blocks out the sun. In both cases plants die, taking the entire food chain with them - herbivores, then carnivores, scavengers, even microorganisms. And nuclear fallout explains the iridium at the K-T boundary just as well as meteorite debris does.”
His words did little to convince the others. Ted leaned over and whispered something to Meredith, causing her to laugh, whil
e Alec smiled and waved his hand, as if shooing away an annoying fly. Derek, breathing hard, drove ahead. “Meteors are stellar debris, and stars are nothing more than giant nuclear reactors. The reason Iridium is in meteors is because it’s the by-product of nuclear reactions - the same reactions that go on in a thermonuclear bomb. Any meteoric explanation of the K-T extinction can be explained just as well by nuclear war!”
The scientists’ light heartedness faded as they realized how upset Derek had become. After a moment of uneasy silence Derek regained his composure.
“You’ve already agreed that each step of the theory is plausible,” he said in a low but determined voice. “First, you agreed that any record of intelligence would erode away after just a few hundred thousand years. Then you agreed that nature filled a void quickly, within generations. Finally, you agreed that intelligence was one void that was filled quickly - that man’s rise from the animals occurred in just less than ten millennia. It all fits perfectly - a jigsaw puzzle that’s been there all the time, yet has remained unseen until I put it together. It’s right! It must be right! I defy you to find a flaw in it!”
“That’s the flaw right there,” Meredith said nervously, “where you assumed you’re theory must be right just because it’s plausible. Just because something could have happened doesn’t mean it did happen. You need prove it did, not us prove it didn't.”
“And prove it I will,” Derek shot back, “beginning with the fact - not theory, not supposition, not wild guess, but cold hard fact - that dinosaurs built nuclear reactors.”
Becker clicked away at his keyboard and a map of Africa flashed onto the screen. “That’s the country of Gabon,” Becker said, circling his laser pointer around a shaded region on the west coast. "The remnants of several ancient uranium based nuclear reactors were found there in the mid 70’s. These were nuclear reactors built by dinosaurs.”
Meredith spoke carefully. “You’re referring to the Oklo event?” she asked. “They might have been ancient nuclear reactors, but nobody, least of all dinosaurs, built them. They were a completely natural phenomenon.”