by Daniel Wilde
“Well, hopefully he and his daughter are okay. And, hopefully, your brother is okay too,” Shift said.
“If only we had been out there and found this stuff yesterday,” I continued, starting to feel a little preachy. “I would have made sure that Dr. Ghannam and his daughter were not on that ship. Instead, we just have to pray that they weren’t exposed to anything.”
After our conversation, Shift said that he still isn’t fully convinced that there’s any further danger. But he certainly seems more convinced. It’s rather obvious that all three men died from some disease, but Shift is hopeful that the disease isn’t communicable by air. Me too. The journal we found may be telling, and I can’t wait to get it translated. I hope dad’s got that process going already.
I’m excited to talk with Hasani in a bit, but neither I, nor dad, will be sharing with him the details we’ve uncovered so far. We all agree that it’s better to not incite panic about something that may turn out to be strictly isolated and now harmless.
January 6, 2093, 2335 hours EET
Holographic conference between Ambassador Hasani Chalthoum (aboard Egypt VIII), Anta Chalthoum (El-Alamein), Minister Abasi Chalthoum and Mrs. Mariam Chalthoum (Cairo)
“Hello mother and father; Anta!” Ambassador Hasani Chalthoum said, his excitement palpable even through the holos.
“Hello son,” Mariam, his mother, replied, excited to see her son.
“Hello son,” replied Minister Abasi Chalthoum.
“Hi Hasani. I’m so excited!” Anta exclaimed. “Tell us what you see. Is the moon beautiful?”
“Yes, it’s wonderful! We’re about half an hour from landing, but I can see everything very clearly through the windows. I’ll move out of the way while we talk so you can see what I’m seeing, but I’ll describe it for you too, since my view will be much clearer. And, since I’ve been reading so much about this for the past few weeks, I’ll try to explain how things operate, if I can.”
“WOW!” Anta said, loudly, as she looked past her brother out the windows of Egypt VIII. “Look at that! It’s amazing! Sorry, go on.”
“Ha ha, that’s alright; it is amazing!” Hasani replied. “The surface of the moon is light, but not as light as we see it from Earth at night. It’s more of a dull gray light. I can see craters and hills, all in various shades of gray. What’s really amazing is seeing the distinct line where the sunlight stops hitting the surface. You can see it on the left side of the hologram. It’s just like when we look at the moon from Earth, or look at the edge of a shadow, but it is so much more distinct and so much bigger from here. I read that the sharpness of the shadow edge is a result of having no atmosphere.
“All those bright lights you can see are the Encapsulation Shells that cover each colony and the other outposts. The smaller Shells, I’ve been told, are laboratories, factories, farms, vacation spots, and that kind of thing. But the six big ones are those covering each of the colonies. We’re going to land at the very biggest one, which was the first one built. It’s the United States’ shell which also houses the International Lunar Space Station. We’ll be staying there for a few months while Egypt’s encapsulation shell is completed. In fact, I’ve been told that the darker spot just to the left of the United States shell is where construction is underway.”
Mariam, wide-eyed, said, “Hasani, this is amazing! We’ve seen the pictures, of course, but this is beyond words! How are they lit?”
“Well, as I understand it, there are hundreds of luminescent energy cores embedded into the shell walls that give off light 24 hours a day. They’re never shut off. I don’t know why that is, but I understand it makes it difficult for some to sleep. I don’t know when we’re going to sleep—if there’s a period of time designated as ‘night’ when we all sleep. I’m sure I’ll find that out.”
Abasi added, mechanically, “Yes, I’ve been told that there is a general time when most people sleep. The energy cores remain on at all times because it takes a great deal of energy to start them up and, as you may have heard, the colonies are having a difficult time storing excess energy that is produced. So, when they shut down the cores, they have difficulty restarting them—its more energy-efficient just to keep them on. You may have already met Dr. Jafari Ghannam, from Cairo. He and his family are on board with you. He has been assigned to help facilitate the development of some kind of energy storage system that may help alleviate the problem with restarting the energy cores. Then, maybe you can sleep in the dark.”
“That’s great news! No, I haven’t met Dr. Ghannam. There are nearly a thousand people on board and the flight isn’t very long. I’m sure I’ll meet him soon.”
(. . . mumbling . . . unidentified noises . . .)
“Don’t go out of your way to find him, son. He’s going to be very busy and I don’t want my son to disturb that,” Abasi said. But what he meant was, stay away from him and his family. They may be contagious.
“I agree Hasani,” Anta added. “Just do your thing. I think it would be more interesting to meet other people, not a scientist from your home town.”
“Ok. If I meet him I meet him. Anyway, you can also see all the lines running between the Shells—those are the tubes. I can’t recall their actual name, but people travel through them to get from one shell to another. Some of them require walking, but others have a seat of some kind that floats as it travels through the tubes. They’re supposed to be really fast. As we get closer, I can see different colors inside the Shells. I know there are grasses and plants and different colored buildings, and water, so those are probably the colors I’m seeing, but I can’t make out shapes very well yet.”
“I’m envious brother!” Anta said, after seeing that the Moon wasn’t gray and flat, like so many pictures she’d seen.
“I’m sure you are,” Hasani replied with a smile, “but maybe you’ll still get the chance to see this place in person. The next ship leaving from Egypt will be in a couple of years, I think. You should apply for entrance. You’ll probably have a good chance having a wonderful, talented, handsome brother like me. Plus, you’ve got dad as a fall back.”
“Very funny son,” Abasi said, without even a hint of a smile.
Anta, on the other hand, smiled wide and proud as she replied, “Oh yes, how could I possibly be rejected with a humble servant like you for a brother?”
“Agreed!” Hasani exclaimed. “Well, the crew is announcing that we need to shut down communications while we make our way down to the surface. I don’t know when I’ll have another free minute to talk, but I’ll contact you as soon as I can. I’ve been told that, because of my . . . ahem . . . position, I’ll have access to all the different data ports and information available here, so I’ll be able to give you a good run-down of what goes on and how people live, and how the various governments function here. I’m excited! I love you! Signing off.”
“Goodbye son. I love you!” Mariam looked sad to see her son go after such a short time.
“Goodbye son. Signing off,” Abasi stated matter-of-factly.
“Bye brother. Let’s talk soon.” Anta really was sad to see her brother go. She was very close to Hasani, being only two years apart in age. They shared interests, hobbies, friends, and, when they were little, a bedroom. Even as they grew into adults, they talked several times a week. Being apart from Hasani, even though it had only been a few days, made Anta feel like crying. She didn’t.
January 7, 2093—Shift
We returned to our hotel in El-Alamein late last night. Anta talked with her family, which was probably very nice, while I spent an equally-enjoyable night scanning the epidermis and bone specimens collected at the site and analyzing the data output from a BioPen. I’d cleaned up the joint in anticipation of Anta’s arrival following her com. I hoped it smelled okay—I’m a guy after all.
“This is pretty slick,” I said as I opened the door to let Anta in, holding the BioPen out for her to see. “I’ve used one of these before, but only in a test-run in Colorado a co
uple of years ago. I’ve never had any need for analyzing potential biological threats before now.”
“How does it work?” Anta asked.
“I don’t really know, but the literature says that the BioPen was originally developed at the Ben Gurion University in Israel during the 2010s,” I answered, looking at Anta for any reaction. When she didn’t immediately speak, I continued lecturing.
“The current version of the BioPen—the version I’m using—is a field tool capable of performing on-the-spot ‘analysis and identification of encountered suspect materials’, according to the literature in the box. It uses fiber optic technology—developed 100 years ago or so—along with some kind of adaptation of the equally-antiquated ELISA, or enzyme-linked immunosorbent assay, which is a similar immunological technique from the same time period. The BioPen’s functionality and abilities are supposed to be the best there is at detecting known biological agents in a short time span.”
Anta cocked her head to one side, with a “really?” expression on her face and I became a little self-conscious. Okay, I felt stupid. We’d been through this before—where she played dumb, yet all-the-while knew exactly what I was talking about, and maybe even knew more than me. But she didn’t stop me, so I continued.
“I guess the technology could be better, had there been any reason to continue to develop it. But biowarfare and bioterrorism haven’t been an international concern since the 2050s.” I was on a role again, in my best lecturer mode.
“Plus, there haven’t been any bad biological outbreaks in the past 40 years, as you know. So, this technology represents some of the best field analysis technology our world has produced, albeit rather outdated in comparison to lab technology. It certainly appears to do the job though.”
When I looked at Anta again, she was smiling. “Good work Professor Bader,” she said with obvious sarcasm. “What have you found?”
“Uhhhh, well, it’s quite interesting really. I left the machine testing all night and . . . well . . .”
“Shift, what is it?” Anta asked, now with some concern in her voice.
When I told her, she looked a bit smug, although no “I told you so” ever came out of her mouth.
“Amazingly, the BioPen has identified an agent very similar to bacillus anthracis; yet, it appears to contain some elements not previously known or identified. Traces of the same agent exist in that metal vial we took from the cave. The cave man’s journal may have actually been right. I can’t believe it’s anthrax-ish.”
“I’ll call dad,” Anta said quietly. “Why didn’t our suits pick it up?”
“I was wondering the same thing. Maybe whatever it is in there that I can’t identify renders the agent undetectable, since the agent is unknown.”
January 7, 2093—Holo Conference
“Hello father. We have news,” Anta said.
“Excellent. I can’t wait to hear it,” Minister Chalthoum replied with about as little conviction as humanly possible.
“Doctor Bader spent the evening conducting tests on skin and bone tissue samples taken from the cave. He also analyzed the small vial I told you about. His conclusions after overnight testing are very interesting, and could be very bad; but I’ll let him tell you about it, if that’s okay.”
“Sure. Good morning Doctor Bader. What can you tell me?” Minister Chalthoum asked.
“Good morning Minister,” Shift replied. “You will recall that we previously discussed the possibility of a biological cause for the condition of the men in the desert? I wasn’t convinced that it was possible given the scarcity of any such disease over the past few decades. Well, the man in the cave, as you know, looked very much like the men in the photographs. So, we’ve made an assumption that whatever caused the death of the men in the desert also caused the death of the cave man. Because the cave man looks like he was isolated in that cave for generations, while the desert men appear to be from our modern time, I think we can rule out murder or accident.
“In fact, my testing seems to confirm the existence, in both the cave man and the vial, of an agent very similar to bacillus anthracis, or, Anthrax; yet, the results reveal the existence of certain elements not known to exist in Anthrax, or anywhere really—they look man-made. My testing can’t confirm what those elements are at this point. So, with the possibility of a biological cause for their deaths, a bit of historical perspective may be warranted, if you’ll indulge me.”
“Doctor, I’m not in the habit of saying ‘I told you so’, so I won’t,” Minister Chalthoum said with a completely straight face.
“Was that a joke?” Shift whispered to Anta.
A moment later, Shift responded, with slight hesitation, “Right. Thank you? Anyway, as I mentioned a few days ago, prior to 2051, there were three recognized forms of human anthrax: Cutaneous, Gastrointestinal and Inhalation. But all three forms of Anthrax are believed to have been eradicated through IWO-mandated controls on the use and ingestion of animal products a few decades ago.”
“Could this be Anthrax then?” the Minister asked.
“Well, maybe. But unless the desert men touched or ate the cave man, this could only really be inhalation anthrax. Inhalation anthrax occurred when anthrax spores were inhaled. The spores traveled through the air and into the body, and then to the lymph nodes near the lungs. The spores produced toxins that caused severe breathing problems and shock. Inhalation Anthrax was very difficult to treat and was often lethal. So, the answer is ‘maybe’. The men are dead, and inhalation anthrax did cause death once upon a time.”
“Is it treatable, if that’s what we face here?” Minister Chalthoum asked.
“Historically, yes,” Shift replied. “Several different antibiotics existed during the first part of this century that were effective against anthrax. But, the early symptoms were often confused with respiratory or gastrointestinal diseases; and once the obvious symptoms occurred, it was usually too late to counteract the destructive effects of the anthrax toxins.”
“Is that what this is, Dr. Bader?”
“I don’t know Minister. I haven’t found any record of reported inhalation anthrax-related illness since 2023. And, as I just mentioned, the last known episode of anthrax, in any form, was 2051, and it was believed to be cutaneous anthrax.
“So, with that in mind, and me eating ‘humble pie’ as they say, I think it’s safe to assume that what we have here is some form of communicable anthrax, but just what form is still unknown based upon those unknown elements.
“I’m going to send the results to a lab at the University of Colorado for further exploration. We don’t know, yet, whether this agent is communicable by air, like inhalation anthrax, or only by physical contact with the disease, like cutaneous anthrax, or a combination of the two.”
“How will we know Doctor Bader?” the Minister asked, now with more concern in his voice. “If, as you say, this bacillus anthracis contains unknown elements, how can we, or you, determine what precautions to take?”
“That’s a hard question Minister,” Shift replied, with equal concern. “Bacillus anthracis was never considered transmissible from person to person, and rarely, if ever, caused secondary infections in others, like secondhand smoke from cigarettes. While inhalation anthrax could be blown on the wind, so to speak, it wasn’t as if a diseased person could blow or cough or sneeze on you and give you the disease.”
“What Shift is saying, father, is that without more information, we won’t be able to tell if this particular strain of bacillus anthracis was spread from the cave man to the desert men via the wind, via physical contact, or via some form of blood transmission, or something else,” Anta said. “But we do know that the little red lights on our armbands never went off when we were in the cave.”
“That’s interesting,” the Minister said.
“Yes, interesting,” Shift said. “But not too strange really, and certainly not too comforting. It’s possible that the suits didn’t detect the Anthrax-like agent because whatever it is t
hat is combined with the known agent is still unknown. Perhaps the suit’s functionality was hindered as a result of finding something unknown. The technology is somewhat primitive, if I understood Anta earlier.”
“Yes, they are primitive. And, they have not been updated with any new information, or so I’ve been told.”
“To answer your earlier question Minister,” Shift said, “what we can do is begin observations of people who may have come into contact with wind-borne spores, beginning with Mr. Shafik. Minister, if there is any possibility that this disease may be spread on the wind, we’ve got to close down this whole area. What is the status of the quarantine we requested yesterday?”
The Minister replied, with some urgency, “The request was denied pending further investigation. I now believe that was a mistake, even though your suits did not detect a problem. Having this information in hand, I will renew the request and I’m positive we can accomplish that by nightfall. Considering the evidence you have supplied, it could be a grievous error to not provide this information to those authorities to whom the original request was made. Please pardon me. I am going to sign off and renew the requests. Please stay where you are. I have further questions, but time seems to be of the essence. I will get back to you very soon.”
“Thank you father,” Anta said.
January 7, 2093—Shift
We’re waiting for Minister Chalthoum to get back to us. I’m starving. We didn’t eat breakfast this morning. I guess this Anthrax stuff is more important, and I’m feeling like a real arse for not giving this possibility real credence in the first place, not that it would have changed anything.
I’m really worried that the desert men’s deaths were caused by the same agent, and contracted either through handling the cave body or from being within the wind zone of any spores that may have been released from the cave body over the past three weeks. I’ve got to find a way to figure this out. We’ll probably have to go back out into the desert to look for more death.