Today We Die (The Killing Sands Book 1)

by Daniel Wilde

  So, there in that cave, with Anta and Mr. Shafik, I felt like I was actually living in a movie. It was awesome!

  The large room of the cave was about 12 meters wide at its widest point, 15 or 16 meters long at its longest point, with a ceiling that varied in height between 5 and 10 meters. Anta seemed more comfortable in this space than in any other inside the cave. The floor was rocky in some places but sandy in others—the sand being as fine and soft as a bunny’s tail. Although, candidly, I’ve never felt a bunny’s tail. But I suspected there were sharp rocks hiding beneath the sand waiting to stab the unsuspecting traveler tired enough to plop down for a rest. That wasn’t going to be me, and I warned Anta as well.

  On one side of the cave, against the wall in a sandy depression within the rock floor, was a small table of sorts. A meter-long slab of thin sandstone sat on top of a pile of smaller sandstone rocks. The table-top had various stains and scratches across the surface. The sandstone wall next to the table had 24 fairly-uniform scratches, like tally marks.

  Adjacent to the table was a sandstone rock just tall enough to make a decent seat. It probably served as a stool based upon its dimensions and proximity to the table. On top of the table sat a rusted, scratched compass likely dating from the early to mid 1900s. Its design and functionality were clearly from long ago. Its arrow turned as the metal cuffs of my suit got close.

  Underneath the compass was a dry, torn, and yellowed paper map detailing the northeastern corner of the African continent. It looked like an old pirate’s map, including an “X” to “mark the spot”. Alongside some typed words and symbols were handwritten and faded words and diagrams. They were so faded that we couldn’t read them in this light, even with a flashlight. Mr. Shafik opined that the “X” probably marked the approximate spot of the cave. The town of El-Alamein was circled on the map to the north of the “X”.

  On another flat rock that looked like it could have served as a countertop or shelf, near the makeshift table, was an antique mess kit containing a small aluminum bowl, plate and cup, an aluminum fork missing one prong, a spoon, and a slightly bent, dull metal knife. Against another wall, not far from the small kitchen, was a bedroom of sorts. There was a small, ravaged blanket that looked more like a cat’s ball of string than anything useful for keeping a body warm. It lay in a pile next to an equally thread-bare jacket bearing a small cross-like symbol on its lapel. Anta, seeing the symbol, gasped and breathed the word “swastika”.

  Hearing Anta’s gasp, a skittish Mr. Shafik asked, “What is ‘swastika’?”

  “A ‘swastika’,” I answered, “is an ancient symbol—an equilateral cross, with four arms bent at 90 degrees.”

  “Huh?” he interrupted.

  I pointed at the symbol on the lapel, tracing my finger along the four bent arms.

  “The swastika was used as a symbol by several ancient civilizations around the world including cultures in Turkey, India, Iran, Nepal, China, Japan, Korea and some European countries. A long time ago, it was widely used in Indian religions, specifically Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism, primarily as a tantric symbol that invokes Lakshmi—the Hindu goddess of wealth, prosperity and auspiciousness. Some smaller sects of those religions still use the swastika.

  “Famously though, and the reason Anta was shocked at seeing it, the swastika was adopted as a symbol of the Nazi Party of Germany in 1920. The Nazis used the swastika as a symbol of the Aryan race. You’ve heard of the Nazi Party, right?”

  “Yes, of course,” he replied. “But I do not know much. I did not go to school.”

  “Well, between World War I and World War II, Adolf Hitler—the eventual Nazi leader—rose to power. In 1933, a right-facing 45 degree rotated swastika was incorporated into the flag of the Nazi Party, which was made the state flag of Germany during the Nazi era. As a result, the swastika became strongly associated with Nazism and related concepts like anti-Semitism, hatred, violence, death, and murder in many western countries.

  “This is starting to ring a bell,” Mr. Shafik said.

  “Well, following World War II, the swastika was outlawed in Germany and many other countries if used as a symbol of Nazism. Prior to the creation of the IWO in 2048, many white nationalist and Neo-Nazi groups, like the Russian National Unity party and the Ku Klux Klan in the U.S. used stylized swastikas or similar symbols to signify their own brand and style of terror, hatred and bigotry. In the 2030s, if memory serves, a large terrorist group centered in Indonesia, with large pockets and cells in many places of the world, incorporated the swastika as a symbol of hatred against democracy. Those groups left burning swastika effigies at the sights of their terror, violence and murder all over the world.

  “Since the rise of the IWO, the swastika has been banned as a symbol in all but religious connotations, with severe penalties for its use in acts of violence or hatred. In other words, even though the swastika was initially used as a symbol for good, peaceful things, it was made famous, beginning in the early 1900s as a symbol for hate. Its former beauty as a symbol is now almost-universally regarded as ugly and terrifying.”

  “Wow! One little mark could do such damage? It is hard to believe,” Mr. Shafik replied.

  “Believe it Mr. Shafik,” Anta said. “The hate and evil that ‘little mark’ symbolized became the cause of the deaths of many of our countrymen and women, including some of my ancestors, and probably yours too. When we get back, you should look up the history of World War II and the wars that were fought outside your front door.”

  Mr. Shafik looked sheepishly at the ground, but, quickly regaining his composure, nearly shouted, “Look what else we found!” The excitement was back.

  He led us to a backpack leaning against a wall in a dark corner of the cave. At one time, it probably held food and water. Now, it held only an empty canteen, a rusted, antiquated hunting knife, a small notepad and pencil, and a German Mauser M712! I immediately understood why he was so excited. That gun was awesome! I had to pick it up, despite Anta’s warning against disturbing the artifacts. Whatever. I’m a man, and men can’t keep their hands to themselves, right? So, I ignored her. I’m sure I dropped a notch or two in her esteem.

  As I was ogling the rifle, I could see Anta quietly thumbing through the notepad—disturbing the artifacts I thought; but I didn’t say it. I’m not that stupid. When it appeared she could no longer stand it, she called quietly for my attention while watching Mr. Shafik across the cave, presumably to make sure he wasn’t paying attention.

  “Shift. Shift! Look at this,” she insisted, quietly.

  As I approached her, I suddenly realized why she seemed so cautious. “That’s a journal, isn’t it?” I whispered, moving toward her while also looking toward Mr. Shafik to confirm that his attention was elsewhere.

  “Yes. Look at the last entry.” The writing was shaky, almost illegible, and in what appeared to be German. Because neither of us could read German, only one word stood out to us.

  “. . . anthrax . . .”

  Anta and I both immediately looked down at our wrists. I don’t know why we hadn’t thought to do so earlier. The lights were green. The cave wasn’t contaminated, or at least, that’s what our chem suits led us to believe. If this place was dangerous, our suits were fooled. I silently prayed that it was as it seemed.

  Anta placed the journal into a sealed bag and placed it in her pack. I gently put the rifle down where I found it. As Anta took pictures of all of the objects in the cavern, I walked back over to the kitchen area to see if there was anything more to see before we investigated the main attraction. As my headlamp passed over an area beneath the table, I saw a tiny glimmer coming from the sand. I bent down and ran my gloved fingers through the sand. As one handful of sand sifted through my fingers, a small metal vial appeared. Its cap was off and it was empty. I decided to keep it.

  Because the Health and Population Ministry believes the condition of the bodies in the photographs have something to do with biologic miscreants, and the vial appears to be
of the type which could have been used for such a purpose, it’s now safe with me in a personal airlock canister. There it will remain until Anta and I can analyze it.

  Apart from the journal and the vial, we left everything in place for a subsequent exploration and documentary expedition. That wasn’t the reason we were there today.

  The only remaining item in the cave—the main attraction—was a human body. That’s why we were there! The body is the reason Mr. Shafik seemed to think we would be okay not finding the two bodies that he’d photographed. He was right. As soon as we saw the body, that failure was no longer quite as disappointing.

  The cave person was obviously an adult male. It was approximately five feet, ten inches tall and still had skin which would have covered the . . . uh . . . “male regenerative organ”. The left knee bone appeared to have been shattered at some point, and poorly healed; but otherwise, externally, it appeared to be in a similar state as those found by Mr. Shafik nine days ago.

  One striking difference between this body and the bodies of the men Shafik found, however, is the condition of the organs and tissue underneath the skin. Shafik’s bodies appeared to be dissolving or decaying from the inside, but the organs, or parts of them anyway, were still there. In the cave man, though, only the bones and skin remained. The skin was well-preserved, probably because of the tomb-like encasing of the cave prior to the recent sandstorms. But the inside organs and other tissue were gone. Completely. With me blocking Mr. Shafik’s view, Anta placed skin and bone samples into sealed containers and placed them in her backpack.

  After our return to El-Alamein and our hotel, we retired to our rooms for the night. I’m shattered, and sweaty. I need a shower, but this damned suit only allows me to sponge bathe. Not cool. But here I sit, contemplating the fate of the cave man, waiting for Anta to call me over. We need to talk.

  The guy in the cave probably entered the cave during one of the battles of World War II or some time shortly thereafter, and hunkered down. I’m fairly certain that there were sandstorms during part of the El-Alamein campaigns in 1942. Perhaps this dude got caught in a storm and, like Dr. Ghannam’s daughter, hid in the cave to wait it out. But the cave is many miles from the battle zones of 1942. How he got here, and why, is a mystery. Anta is sending the notepad to her father for translation. That may solve the mystery.

  Assuming the cave man was between 20 and 30 years old at the time he entered the cave—the age of a typical soldier during World War II—the body must be approximately 170-180 years old. Biologically, I guess it could take a few years for a body to decompose naturally when it’s buried in a cave like that in the desert, but that decomposition would be complete, minus the bones. The decay of this guy’s body, from the inside out, but leaving the skin still intact, shows that the natural decomposition process was altered somehow. I’m no biologist, nor a medical doctor, but even if I had knowledge in those areas, this would still freak me out.

  It seems incredible to find this body, in this location, in this condition. There was no tissue from which to take a sample except for the bones and the skin. I now have a sample of both, along with the metal vial, sitting in my case ready to be analyzed as soon as my machine tells me it’s ready.

  Now, finally, I’m beginning to believe that the two men in the desert may actually have died as a result of some biological disease, rather than murder or accident. Whatever caused the three bodies to dissolve from the inside is unknown, obviously, but it can’t be good. That one word—“anthrax”—is getting under my skin—only figuratively, I hope. But the solid green light on my armband is a good sign, I think.

  I wish I could say that there could be no trouble from this. I’d love to argue that if some disease killed the cave man, it was so long ago that the disease is dead, and no longer a threat, since our chem suits didn’t warn us of any danger. Unfortunately, the two men Mr. Shafik found in the desert within walking distance of the cave weren’t entombed with the cave man. At least, I’m fairly certain that two 170-year-old men could not be unearthed from the cave and then wander the desert. No; I’m pretty sure that Mr. Shafik found the bodies of men who found the cave some time over the past few weeks, after the cave was unearthed by the storms.

  They may have been infected at that time, and then succumbed to the disease soon thereafter. That’s an unpleasant thought. Also, it would be much better if they contracted the disease by touching the body than if the disease is spread by airborne transmission. If it’s airborne, then Mr. Shafik may be infected, along with Dr. Ghannam and his daughter. This is still speculation, of course. Unless and until Mr. Shafik shows signs of some kind of illness, we can’t be sure how the disease, if any, is even transmitted. The two men may have touched the body. Maybe they took a bite—some people are crazy like that. It may not be an airborne pathogen at all. That’s my hope. Anta says the red lights on our suits should have blinked if there was something in the air.

  Earlier today, when we’d looked at the body, I saw the worried expression on her face through her face plate. I could tell she was having thoughts similar to mine, despite the apparent safety of the air around us. When she glanced at me, I shook my head slightly to tell her not to speak her thoughts. Her features relaxed slightly. Her expression changed to one of determination, letting me know she understood my message and that we would discuss it later. I’m looking forward to that discussion.

  I wish that we’d found the other bodies to see if we could determine how long they’d been dead. Without confirmation that the deaths were caused by the same factors as the body in the cave, we don’t have much useful information; at least not much that’s useful in determining what real precautions should be taken at this point, if any.

  During a quiet conference with Anta outside the cave, as we trudged through the deep sand back to Mr. Shafik’s SUV, we decided to request that the Qattara Depression, along with El-Alamein and any cities or towns downwind of any of the recent sandstorms should be quarantined—at least until we determine what caused the bodies to be in such a state. While walking, Anta made the request to her father via the satellite uplink on her watch. Anta hasn’t called me over to talk yet, so maybe her father hasn’t responded.

  January 6, 2093—Anta

  Dad is pissed! But thankfully not at us. He’s just mad about the situation. I asked him to quarantine the Qattara Depression and El-Alamein. He went ballistic. His voice raised a couple of octaves. It would have been funny—although I wouldn’t have dared to laugh out loud—if the situation weren’t so dire.

  I explained what we’d found, and he began to calm down; but he wanted to know how long this quarantine would have to last. I think his problem with this is that he can’t see how to keep it a secret from the IWO. He doesn’t want mass hysteria. I get that. Not my problem though. I don’t get paid the big bucks. In answer to his question about how long the quarantine would have to last, I told him there was no way to know—so indefinitely. He was not pleased.

  Dad authorized us to place Mr. Shafik into quarantine as a precaution. I arranged for that, attempting to spread as little information as possible. Mr. Shafik understood and agreed to keep quiet.

  When Shift first suggested that we request a quarantine, he had to remind me what it meant. I’d forgotten because it’s a term and a process so seldom used. The word “quarantine” means, at least when used in circumstances like these, to separate and restrict the movement of healthy persons who may have been exposed to a communicable disease to see if they become ill. The word comes from the Italian “quaranta”, meaning forty, which is the number of days seagoing ships were required to be isolated at sea before passengers and crew could go ashore during the Black Death epidemic in the mid-1300s. If we have to quarantine El-Alamein for 40 days, dad will not be able to keep it a secret.

  After our trip out into the desert, while waiting for my Holo with Hasani, mom and dad, which is in a couple hours, Shift and I talked about what we found in the desert. Well, mostly I talked. Shift listen
ed. We didn’t want to have the conversation in front of Mr. Shafik. Just common courtesy really.

  “It’s probably historically important that the items located in these previously-unknown caves had remained buried for years,” I said, while Shift nodded his head in agreement. “Mr. Shafik, a guide who takes tour groups regularly into the area, didn’t know anything about them.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure that’s meaningful,” Shift replied.

  “One thing is certain, Shift—I’m scared. I’ve never seen anything like that body, and I’ve seen many things that I can’t talk about. I’ve certainly never seen a dead body with the skin still intact, and only bones on the inside. It was disgusting.” Again, Shift was nodding his head.

  “Have you?” I asked. Shift moved his head side to side silently.

  “What’s most interesting to me,” I continued, “is that the desert bodies and the cave body appeared at nearly the same time, in nearly the same place, after a three-week period of repeated sand storms. In my short 34 years of life, I’ve only seen four or five sandstorms. I remember stories dad used to tell us when we were children, about great sandstorms, which were much more common when he was a child.

  “But this current period of extended sandstorms is abnormal. It’s probably the only reason the cave was unburied.”

  “Maybe it should be covered back up,” Shift finally said, with a tone that showed he wasn’t joking.

  “You’re probably right,” I replied. “I’m afraid of what may have been unearthed by the wind. I’m glad we had on our chem suits, but I’m worried about Shafik and all the people here in El-Alamein. I’m concerned for Shafik’s client and his daughter too. They’ve probably already left Earth on Egypt VIII, headed for the Egyptian moon colony.”