Extinction Series (The Complete Collection)

by James D. Prescott

  “That may or may not be, Dr. Greer,” Johnson replied. “But nevertheless, these Sentinel folks were not only able to abscond with advanced technology”—he glanced down, flipping through the report Jack and Mia had put together on the mission—“they were also allowed to destroy a piece of machinery that might have been decades if not centuries ahead of anything we possess.”

  “I would remind the senator,” Jack shot back, shifting in his seat, “by that point the blast wave was already destabilizing the limestone foundation upon which the ship was resting. Even if Sentinel had never set foot on that ship, the rock shelf would have collapsed all the same.”

  “And yet what do we have to show for it?” Johnson asked, removing his glasses.

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  The senator stared at Jack. “By your own admission, Sentinel was able to remove pieces of advanced technology. My question to you is, what was the United States government able to salvage?”

  Jack shook his head. “Nothing, I’m afraid. Our mission was to understand who these beings were and why they had come to earth.”

  Mia put a hand on his leg, warning him he might be walking into a trap.

  “I see. Thank you for that clarification, Doctor,” Johnson said gleefully. “And what did you learn in that regard?”

  The tie around Jack’s neck was beginning to feel more like a noose. “Not nearly as much as we would have liked. We can say with confidence that the Atean ship impacted our planet approximately sixty-five million years ago, wiping out anywhere from seventy-five to ninety percent of the species on Earth. We know they were responsible for introducing new life into Earth’s ecosystem, including a small, furry-tailed mammal that would eventually evolve into human beings. And we also discovered that a tiny error in the genetic replication process helped to create a gene in humans responsible for violence and aggression.”

  The murmurs from the audience grew.

  “I regret to inform you, Dr. Greer, that my God isn’t a little green man from Mars,” Johnson said with stinging disdain in his voice.

  “If I may, Senator,” Mia cut in, “we don’t know what color they were. The bodies we found on board had been dead for many millions of years. That being said, I suppose the closest resemblance to a species classification on Earth would be an arthropod. And I can assure you, they were definitely not from Mars.”

  “Are you mocking this committee?” Johnson asked, a line of redness moving up his neck.

  “No, sir,” Mia replied. “I’m merely attempting to highlight that the scientists who descended to investigate the Atean ship did so without any preconceived notions about what they would find. Their personal beliefs, no matter how firmly held, would only have gotten in the way.”

  “I’ve gone over your report,” Johnson said, holding up the thick stack of papers, “and it seems that none of you can tell me with any degree of certainty where these beings came from or why they chose the Earth as the site for their holocaust.”

  Mia shook her head. “Given the short time we had on board the ship…”

  “More to the point,” he went on, “you can’t give the American people or the citizens of the planet earth any sort of assurances these creatures aren’t intending to wipe us out the first chance they get.”

  “You’re right,” she admitted. “As of yet, there was nothing we came upon that shed any light on a possible motive.”

  “Dr. Ward, you’ve also testified earlier that the pulses of light emanating from the ship were largely to blame for the rash of medical complications experienced throughout the world.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “But once again, you can’t tell us how these alien beings were able to remotely alter the genes inside our bodies nor for what end.”

  Once again, Mia shook her head. “We’re working on it.”

  Johnson moved the mic closer to his lips. “So let the record show that in spite of the tome you and your colleague Dr. Greer have created for the committee, outlining the mission and the handful of discoveries you made, the most important question of all remains unanswered. Namely, why has the human race been earmarked for destruction by an alien species we’ve never met?”

  The room erupted in a cacophony of shouts.

  “We’ve given you the facts as we know them,” Jack said, raising his voice over the noise. “Telling you we don’t have an answer yet isn’t a license to insert conjecture. We’re dealing with probably the most important event in human history. Forcing the scientific community to fill in the blanks simply because it’ll put the public at ease would be irresponsible in the extr―”

  The chamber doors burst open and six figures in black hoodies charged in holding what looked like hand grenades. Not far behind them were a dozen security guards as well as members of the capitol police. As the individual leading the group raised his hand to pull the pin, Jack rose from his seat and leapt through the air. His shoulder thudded into the man’s ribs, knocking him to the ground, but the others behind him managed to pull their pins and chanted, “Wipe Earth clean!” before lobbing them. Even as the grenades spun through the air, thick streams of white smoke hissed from each of the canisters, filling the Senate hearing chamber with tear gas and chaos.

  Chapter 2

  The rain drummed against the black Cadillac’s roof as it pulled up to the White House checkpoint. Crowds of protesters were outside, being held back by rows of police in riot gear. Some had signs reading, “Give peace a chance,” while others toted an alien doll with a noose around its neck, shouting, “Human survival comes first.” One guy even had a shirt with the words, “Never forget: How to Serve Man was really a cookbook.”

  The driver’s window lowered and he addressed the White House security guard at the gate.

  “Dr. Jack Greer and Dr. Mia Ward here to see the president.”

  The guard scanned the clipboard in his hands and then paused to peer into the back seat of the limo where Jack and Mia were waiting, both of them a bundle of nerves.

  The guard then checked his watch. “Yeah, go ahead, POTUS should be arriving any minute now.”

  “The Senate hearing could have gone better,” Jack said. His eyes were still red from the tear gas and his clothes bore a distinctly acrid smell.

  Mia smiled at Jack’s attempts to cheer her up. The truth was the hearing had been an unmitigated disaster. She understood people were scared and the senators were attempting to create the illusion of control over a situation that was anything but controlled.

  She glanced out the back window, half expecting the Beast, as the president’s limo was affectionately called, to be pulling up behind them. It wasn’t. But over the pattering rain came the distant sound of a helicopter, a sound that grew louder as they approached the entrance to the West Wing, a three-story white structure that served as the office for the president and his staff.

  Jack stepped out of the limo and watched Marine One fly in low and settle onto the South Lawn.

  A young woman in a stormcloud-gray suit appeared from inside and ushered them out of the rain and into the building. From there, she led them down a long corridor. The offices on both sides were buzzing with frenetic activity. Ever since they had discovered and then lost the alien craft in the Gulf of Mexico, White House staff had been scrambling to respond to the veritable tsunami of media attention the Sentinel leaks had generated. And it hadn’t only been the American press. News outlets from around the world wanted to know who the aliens were and what they wanted. Jack couldn’t blame them. He wanted to know as well.

  The aide came to a stop before the Oval Office and spun around. “Would either of you like something to drink?” she asked with the hint of a Southern accent and an equal amount of Southern hospitality. “Water, tea, coffee?”

  “How about some bourbon?” Jack asked, feeling his throat go dry.

  The aide smiled, a streak of red lipstick smeared on one of her front teeth.

  It wasn’t every day you got a chance to brief the
president. Jack glanced over at Mia, whose hands looked like a pair of squids battling for dominance. “You clean up good,” he told her, grinning.

  Mia glanced down at the navy-blue V-neck dress she was wearing. “Was all I could get on short notice.” Her shoulder-length flame-red hair brushed against her cheeks. Her skin was still slightly bronzed from the brief time they’d spent on the USS Grapple following the mission. Mostly they had been compiling a detailed and top-secret report for the president and his cabinet. As important as that had been, Jack couldn’t help but lament he hadn’t gotten more time to get to know her.

  “Nonsense, you look great,” he said, nodding to the aide, who proceeded to swing open the door to the Oval Office and wave them inside. For some reason, Jack had expected they would be alone with the president, but quickly realized that particular calculation had been off base by a factor of ten. Nearly thirty men and women were standing in the Oval Office before them, half dressed in military uniforms, the rest in suits. Among those in suits were Vice-President Millard, the Secretaries of State, Treasury, and Defense, and the Speaker of the House. Added to that were two dozen other folks Jack recognized by face, but not by name or position.

  The aide announced them to the room. “Geophysicist Dr. Greer and geneticist Dr. Ward are here on behalf of the mission sent to study the extraterrestrial craft in the Gulf of Mexico.”

  President Alexander Taylor came over and shook their hands, thanking them for all they had done. He was a tall, lean man with a strong grip and a piercing gaze, an intensity that was muted by the sad, almost melancholic quality in the man’s stare. That along with his lanky build often elicited comparisons to Abraham Lincoln, a resemblance that had served him well during his election.

  The room grew still as the chief of staff handed the president a thick report.

  “I’ve gone through what you wrote,” President Taylor told them. “I also spent some time going through the video you folks recorded through the fancy glasses you were wearing. It was fascinating stuff and yet I couldn’t help feeling there were a number of items missing from this report, blanks I’m hoping the two of you might be able to fill in for us.”

  “We’ll do our best, Mr. President,” Mia offered with humility.

  Jack couldn’t help but wonder what they might ask that the Senate committee had not already.

  “You see,” Vice-President Millard said, gently easing himself into the conversation, “we’ve come into possession of certain information that we believe poses a grave threat to the security of our nation as well as the world at large. It’s still being analyzed by experts, mind you…”

  “John, stop beating around the bush,” the president scolded him. “Just show them the pictures, will you?”

  Vice-President Millard hesitated before leafing through a stack of folders, removing copies of an eight-by-ten glossy photograph and handing one to both Mia and Jack.

  They stared at it for several minutes before the subject of the image came into sharp focus. The image was of an alien ship, perhaps identical to the one they had found beneath the Gulf. But this one wasn’t underwater, it was out in space—hell, it appeared to be somewhere in our solar system.

  “Where was this taken?” Jack asked, trying not to let on that his pulse had just kicked a few notches higher.

  A short Native woman in a red pantsuit stepped forward. “If you’ll allow me, Mr. President. I’m Dr. Diane Littlefield, administrator at NASA. The image was taken five days ago by Voyager One. At this very moment, a handful of astronomers are tracking the object. Judging by its current speed, distance and trajectory, the object will intersect with Earth in fourteen days, six hours and seven minutes. Give or take.”

  “So you can understand the pickle we’re in,” the president said, deep lines forming in his forehead. “We need to know if whoever sent this thing means to wipe humanity off the face of the earth like they did the dinosaurs.”

  It sounded like a logical question and Jack suddenly felt every eyeball in the room turn to him. He swallowed hard, his throat making an audible clicking sound. He felt Mia’s hand on his back, melting away at least some of the tension. “I mean, you’re asking me to know the mind of an alien species. Seems like a tall order given that most of the time, we have no idea what the North Koreans or the Iranians are thinking.”

  Mia grinned weakly. “If you’re asking us whether or not these beings are friendly, I’m not sure we can know that. At least not yet. The craft Jack and his team found buried was sixty-five million years old. If it wasn’t for that ship impacting the earth, then none of us would be here today. And yet, when it struck, I’m sure for the dinosaurs it meant they were about to have a very bad day.”

  “What Mia—err, Dr. Ward—is trying to say,” Jack started to explain, “is that terms such as ‘good’ or ‘bad’ depend on which end of the barrel you’re staring down.”

  Secretary of State Chase roared from across the room, “Well, it just so happens that barrel is pointed straight at us. Mr. President, I urge you not to wait a moment longer. Unleash the full strength of our nuclear arsenal and vaporize this thing before it hits us.”

  The room erupted into a racket of differing opinions.

  Secretary of Defense Myers spoke next. “Mr. President, the guidance systems on our nuclear weapons are all aimed at targets on earth. Those fired against the alien craft would first have to be reprogrammed and then attached to Atlas rockets if they were to have any chance of reaching the target. But there’s a larger issue to consider. If these alien beings do come in peace and we destroy them, I think it’s safe to say that could be the start of an inter-planetary war we could never hope to win.”

  Jack shook his head. “Frankly, Mr. President, I’m not even sure our weapons could put more than a dent in that ship.”

  “He may be right,” the NASA director said. “I’ve gone through the report as well and the hull of the craft we studied was a largely unknown composite of extraordinary strength.”

  The president’s normally stoic features betrayed the raw emotion roiling beneath the surface. “I got thirty percent of the armed forces on sick leave with God knows what. I got the Russians and the Chinese convinced we faked the ship’s destruction. At this very moment, they’re poking around our electronic infrastructure looking for secrets we don’t have. Not to mention Cuba and those damned islands they keep building. On top of everything else, the country’s scared as hell and on the verge of tearing itself apart. Just imagine how they’ll react when news gets out they have two weeks before the world’s reduced to a pile of ash. If what you found in the Gulf is any indication, if these aliens mean to end the human race, I’m afraid to admit we don’t have a shot in hell of stopping them. That’s why I’ve secretly signed a directive ordering vital elements of our government deep underground. I’ve also recommissioned every Cold War bunker at our disposal. If the worst happens, at least some of us will remain to carry on.”

  Many in the room, including Jack and Mia, were speechless. Either attempt to blow it up before it hit or wait out the devastation. Which of the two was the worst option? That was what it seemed to be coming down to.

  “Mr. President,” Jack said. “You asked for our opinions on whether these aliens mean to do us harm, and I don’t have any proof one way or another just yet, but my gut is telling me they don’t.”

  The audible sound of scoffs burned Jack’s ears.

  “With all due respect, Dr. Greer,” Vice-President Millard barked, “we can’t very well base the future of the human race on your gut feeling.” His gaze turned to Mia. “Dr. Ward, I understand you’ve been working on the genetic side of this. For goodness’ sake, tell us you have something, anything more useful than your gut to draw on.”

  Jack felt himself shrink down to the size of a pea. He’d had strips torn off him by men far meaner than Vice-President Millard, but he knew his only recourse was to pull his shoulders back and stand up straight. This wasn’t personal. It was about survival.r />
  Mia unclasped her hands. “If I’m going to be frank, I wish we had more time. This is at once the most momentous period in the history of the human race and also the most perilous. The truth is, we learned a lot about the Atean race. Whether we like it or not, they are our creators. At the very least, they helped to set the circumstances in motion in which the human race evolved. We’ve also learned that human and alien DNA is remarkably similar. And locked within that DNA may very well lie the explanation for why this is happening and, if we’re lucky, how to stop it.

  “I know in many ways hearing this goes against everything we’ve been taught in our schools and churches about who we are and how we came to be. But if the data is accurate and we are their creation, I find it hard to believe they would slaughter us without giving it a second thought. My belief that their intentions are honorable is only bolstered by the fact that we’ve only ever found a single ship.”

  “Well, Doctor, that isn’t entirely true,” Secretary of Defense Myers offered.

  Mia stopped dead. “Excuse me?”

  “Our satellites picked up another blast wave. This one was much smaller and hasn’t triggered since then. Nevertheless, we did manage to narrow down the source of the blast to within a five-mile area.”

  “Another ship?” Jack stammered, his mouth ajar.

  “We’re not sure what it is,” the NASA administrator said, clearly trying to get Myers off the hook for attempting to explain subjects beyond his purview. “The intensity and quality of the signal is different. It’s denser and more refined. But the source has been traced to nearly two miles beneath the Greenland ice sheet.”

  “How long have you known?” Mia asked, a pit of despair growing ever deeper within her. She had hoped with the ship and its debilitating blast wave now gone, she might have a shot at finding a workable cure. With a two-week deadline before possible Armageddon and the appearance of a new ship, it was all starting to seem rather hopeless.