by Daniel Wilde
“So, there’s your answer Anta,” John said. “Communism was over, everywhere but Cuba, about 40 years ago.”
“That’s why I didn’t know much about it,” I mused. “I wasn’t even alive when all of that went down.”
“The scary part though,” Shift added, “is that Cuba’s government really does do whatever it wants. It may not have been in the news in Egypt, but a few years ago, two Cuban cops shot down a teenager who they thought was being belligerent—that’s it. They killed the kid for talking trash. He didn’t even break any law. Do you remember that John?”
“Yeah, it was big news,” John replied. “It seems like the cops just got a slap on the wrist for it too. And even though the IWO tried to step in, it had no authority and Cuba didn’t listen. If that had happened here, in the U.S., the cops would have been hung, figuratively of course.”
“And there’s probably plenty of other examples,” Shift said. “In fact, just the fact that they don’t ever attend IWO conferences tells us what they think about cooperation and obeying international laws.”
I was a little surprised by what I’d been hearing about Cuba.
“What would happen if some great calamity, like a hurricane or earthquake ever hit Cuba?” I asked. “I’m sure Cuba’s government would seek international assistance then, wouldn’t they? But they don’t think they have to play by the rules the rest of us play by. They’re not crazy, John. They’re selfish. Or maybe it’s the same thing.
“So, what was John saying about terrorism and the Middle East?”
“You sure you want to get into this?” Shift asked.
At my nod, he continued, “Bottom line is that some Middle Eastern states supported global terrorism into the mid-21st century. A massive military effort in the 2050s, sponsored by the IWO and supported by most world governments, appears to have eliminated the threat as the countries joined the IWO. There hasn’t been a recorded case of terrorism in over 30 years.”
“That’s good,” I said, yawning.
I went to bed feeling more secure in the knowledge that this bunker had been built to withstand a nuclear attack and nuclear fallout. If everything is still operable, it should easily prevent an invasion by Anthrax E.
January 22, 2093—Shift
Today, we explored this bunker, with John as our guide—at least the parts to which we’ve been given clearance. There are tons of rooms and tunnels, all underground, most of which look like they haven’t been used for decades, which is apparently the case. We were told that this bunker hasn’t been used in nearly 50 years, and was opened again for this purpose only. That seems logical given what Anta and I talked about last night.
The rooms we currently occupy include a decent-sized kitchen and dining hall, restroom facilities, a recreation room, separate sleeping quarters for each person and a huge laboratory and computer compound. There are 14 people here including Anta and I, 12 of which have special jobs to do in order to maintain the systems or find a cure for Anthrax E. Anta and I, though, don’t have much to do yet.
While here, which could be a long time, we’re completely sealed off—from the inside—against any nuclear, biological, chemical or radioactive threat—hopefully including Anthrax E. That’s what the guys tell me anyway. Of course, we’re also sealed off from physical contact with the remainder of the human race—which is both frightening and reassuring. Mainly, it makes me sad. I miss my nieces—badly.
January 23, 2093, 0845 hours EET
Holographic conference between Ambassador Hasani Chalthoum (United States Moon Colony), Anta Chalthoum (near Boston), Minister Abasi Chalthoum and Mrs. Mariam Chalthoum (Cairo)
“Hi, I have very little time to talk, this is a restricted channel and I’m illegally operating outside the confines of this system.” Hasani was abrupt, and kept looking over his shoulder. “I could be shot for this, metaphorically—I think—so excuse my lack of formalities, and just listen.”
“Why are you wearing a space suit? Sorry. Go on son. Are you alright?” Abasi Chalthoum asked, feeling and feeding off the urgency in his son’s voice and mannerisms.
“Well, I’m alive, and I’m not sick, yet. But I could easily be. I’ve been hiding out in my personal quarters, but I’m feeling claustrophobic and mentally suffering a great deal.
“As soon as we started hearing that people outside the medical facilities were sick, I put on a space suit—the kind used to go outside the regulated atmosphere of the shells. Once I had it on, I went around to some of the vacant residences and gathered eighteen more oxygen tanks. People were staring at me, so I felt pretty dumb. But I’m alive and breathing clean air. That’s probably the only reason I’m alive. I’m sure I stink too, but there isn’t really anybody around to complain about it.”
Hasani paused, thinking. “Dad, thank you for being so hard on us when we were kids, about being safe and planning ahead. In these conditions, it’s made me think in terms of survival. That training is why I’m alive. Nobody here has any idea how to stop this disease from spreading. Of course, there aren’t many people left alive and healthy to solve the problem. Nobody goes outside their residences. Nobody goes to work. Nobody goes to the grocery. People are dying everywhere. But the worst part is the mass hysteria, which is dying down now of course, as people realize their fate.
“Other people started putting on space suits, like me, but they’re still dying. So I guess they put on the suits too late or something. Or maybe the suits aren’t working and I’m still in trouble. I don’t know.
“Anyway, the people here are, or were, of the highest caliber and have the brightest minds, and would seem to be the most sensible people to deal with in a crisis, but they aren’t. Scholars, scientists, mathematicians, and nearly all other rational-thinking people here have gone nuts.
“I can’t describe the state of panic properly, but hovers have crashed into buildings, alarms are going off all over the place, and windows are smashed. Over in one of the other colonies, I can’t tell which one, I can see fires burning and the shell is filling up with smoke. Anyone still alive over there will probably suffocate anyway. Of course, now, there aren’t many people left to panic. I don’t know the numbers of casualties, but based upon what I can see out my windows, it’s catastrophic.”
Taking only a short breath, and looking around as a scream pierced the other-wise calm room, he continued: “But what I need to tell you is this. I have a friend in the Mexican consulate on Earth. All communications are restricted here, but, as with this communication, I’ve been breaking the rules. My friend just told me that Mexico intends to secretly contravene IWO orders and launch a ship from the moon to return home some time very soon.”
Mariam gasped.
Anta, without thinking, replied, “That could be very bad Hasani.”
“Go on son,” Abasi said, clearly needing to hear more.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that Mexico has something like 3,000 people in their colony, but their biggest ship only holds about 2,500 safely. My friend indicates that they intend to cram everyone on board and get out of here before the infection spreads to their colony. I guess I would try to do the same thing though. I feel like I can’t go to the IIA with this information for fear of punishment, and maybe stripping of my position. But if I’m going to get sick anyway, and because so many lives are potentially at stake, I should go to the IIA anyway, shouldn’t I?”
“Son,” Abasi replied, a little panicky and strangely out of character, “don’t risk it yet. Let me try to get the message through first. And, if there is any way for you to avoid contamination, do it.”
Anta began to panic too as another scream and a loud siren added to the confusion around her brother on the Holo. Feeling that panic creep into her psyche, Anta stated, but only barely above a whisper, “Hasani, Anthrax E has wiped out all of El-Alamein. My colleague, Shift, and I were two of only four people still alive in the city before our escape. Everyone who contracts that disease is going to die. There’s no cure or vaccine,
yet. We have friends who are hoping to accomplish that, but it seems that it may be too late for you and everybody else there. Although I wouldn’t normally recommend breaching protocol, I suggest you look for a way out. Find a way to escape while you’re still healthy and get to an isolated pod somewhere that has food, air and water to sustain you for a long time. That may be your only hope. Can you attempt to do that now and contact us in a couple hours?”
“Unofficially,” Abasi said, with his usual authoritative voice returning, “I endorse your sister’s suggestion. You must do what you can to survive.”
“Okay, I’m going to try it. If I get out, I’ll try to contact you again within a few hours. Be ready. If I fail to contact you soon, it’s probably because I didn’t make it and I won’t be able to contact you again. But I will try. I love you mother and father. I love you Anta. I need to go, I hear voices coming this way.”
The Holo closed abruptly.
January 23, 2093—Staff Meeting—Hidden Bunker near Boston
“Ladies and Gentlemen, the news from the moon today is not good,” Dr. Shevchuk began as John handed out a sheet of paper to each of us. “A post to the IIA database identifies a rumor that Mexico may attempt to launch from the moon and return to Earth, despite the IIA’s and IWO’s explicit instructions to the contrary. The post is a strong warning to Mexico that launching from the moon will result in extrication from the IWO and probable imprisonment for those in charge.”
Shift and Anta looked at each other. Anta’s face showed the relief that both she and Shift felt.
“What does that mean for us?” asked Mrs. Chrissy Houghton, a short and stocky, but pretty maintenance staff worker from Massachusetts. She directed her question to Dr. Shevchuk, but it was John who answered.
“What it means,” John replied, “is that if they launch, even if they believe they’ve taken every precaution, they may still bring Anthrax E back to Earth. As you know, it’s believed that the only infection on Earth presently has been contained under foam in El-Alamein. Mexico’s return to Earth, if it occurs, might result in a new outbreak here, which would be very bad, obviously.”
“Is it possible that somebody in the Mexican colony could have Anthrax E, but not know it yet?” Mrs. Houghton asked.
“Possibly,” John replied. “Most people have died within 98 hours of first showing signs of illness; but there have been a few cases, early on while they were still being tracked, where the people showed more minor symptoms for several days before their bodies launched into full-blown Anthrax E symptomatology. In each case, the initial symptoms just appeared to be minor colds. The longest recorded time from first symptom reporting to death was 191 hours, or nearly eight days.”
“Well, when were the tubes closed down?” Shift asked, beginning to do the math in his head.
“January 9th, I think,” Anta replied.
“So,” Shift continued, “that means that anybody who entered the Mexican colony on January 9th, after leaving the U.S. colony, and was infected, would likely have first begun showing signs of illness by January 14th. Even if that person was one of the few individuals whose body reacted differently at first, and didn’t begin to show Anthrax E-type symptoms for several days, we’re still talking about nine days, now, from when he or she would have first begun to show any illness. That’s a long time. It seems like the Mexican colony is probably safe after all.”
“There’s a problem with your theory though, Shift,” John began, carefully. “I think it’s important for the group to know about Hasani, even though you wanted to keep it a secret.”
“Go ahead,” Anta said, with equal caution.
“You told me that your brother, Hasani, thought he could get out of the U.S. shell and enter a smaller shell without going through the tubes, didn’t you?”
“Well, that’s not exactly what I said,” Anta replied. “Hasani didn’t say he could do it, but he didn’t say he couldn’t either.”
John, gaining more steam, said, “If he did leave the U.S. shell and enter another shell without using the tubes, couldn’t others do the same? Isn’t it possible that some frightened person, already infected, but not knowing it yet, could have left any of the major shells and entered the Mexican colony without using the tubes?”
“I think you’re right, John,” Shift answered. “When I was looking into the function of the lunar tubes, back when we were still stuck in El-Alamein, and I had to stop our conversation because I had that, er, problem, I didn’t get to finish telling you what I had learned.”
“Oh yeah, your ‘problem’. Shift had bad diarrhea everybody,” John announced. Seeing Shift’s glare, he added innocently. “What? We’re all friends here.”
“Thank you John, but now maybe you and I are not such good friends.” John and Anta, who knew Shift well, could tell that he was clearly joking. A look around the room showed that the others were a little concerned with Shift’s remark. He didn’t try to correct it.
“Anyway, the tubes can be shut off at each end so that one Colony can control who comes and goes. The restriction on travel though, was a universal ‘pulling of the plug’ so to speak on whatever electronic technology allows for the opening and closing of the gates on the tubes. But that ‘pulling of the plug’ did not operate to permanently and completely shut off the ports leading to the outside.
“Once the tubes were built, the outside ports were no longer used for travel between any of the colonies. They were then only used to travel outside and to the unconnected shells. That would have been how Hasani got out and to another shell, if he made it. So, it’s possible that someone could have left an infected colony by an outside port and somehow gained entrance to the Mexican colony through one of its outside ports. Granted, the person would have had to have been one of the last infected, and then believed that he was healthy, and then would have had to convince someone in the Mexican colony to help him gain access through one of the outside ports. There’s a lot of ‘ifs’ in there, but that could happen, theoretically.”
“But the shells all had records of who was there when the tubes were closed down,” John said.
“Not necessarily,” Shift replied, “because this theoretical person would have snuck in. So there wouldn’t be a record of his entering the Mexican shell. Nobody would know he was there unless and until he got sick. Then, if he happened to be one of those that had delayed symptoms, or it looked like he just had a cold, then the time period for showing symptoms could be much longer than my estimates of a few minutes ago.”
“Maybe the person was healthy but his space suit was covered in Anthrax E,” Mrs. Houghton said.
“Remember Chrissy, that we’re talking about a hypothetical situation here,” John said. “We don’t know if this even happened. But if it did, Anthrax E, a living organism, would not have survived outside the regulated shells. It needs oxygen just like every other living thing. Any bacteria on any hypothetical person’s space suit would die once it left a shell. So, if someone did sneak into the Mexican shell from the outside, the spread of Anthrax E could only occur if the person was already infected.”
Dr. Shevchuk, looking eager to get back to work, said, “This is an interesting theory gentlemen, and I would like the two of you to continue your debate and present me with your conclusions so that I can pass it along to the IWO. In the meantime, unless anybody else has something to bring up to the group, like a breakthrough in finding an antidote,” he said with an inflection in his voice that made it a question, “let’s adjourn for today. I believe we can all agree that our results here so far have not been good enough. In the event the plague returns to Earth, we will have a mess on our hands unless we can find an antidote, and it appears that no other research group has done any better over the past two weeks. So, let’s get back at it. Thank you all for your hard work.”
“Wait!” Mrs. Houghton interjected quickly. “Where did this rumor come from?”
“We think it originated in Canada,” John replied. “But we can’
t be sure.”
Again, Shift and Anta shared a knowing look. Anta’s father had gotten the news out there, without divulging from where the news originated.
With nothing left to ask or to be said, they all filed out in twos and threes, talking quietly.
January 24, 2093—Anta
“Shift, I haven’t heard from Hasani. It’s been more than 16 hours since we last spoke to him.”
“Hasani appears to be very resourceful.”
“I’m afraid that I won’t ever see or hear from him again.” This time when Shift placed his hand on my shoulder, I felt the reassuring warmth of it. I’ll try not to worry about Hasani and give him more time to contact us.
January 24, 2093—Shift
At our daily staff meeting this morning, Dr. Shevchuk, with the usual sparkle in his eyes, but somewhat more distant now, immediately deferred to John. Every time I look into Shevchuk’s eyes, I feel like a child hearing a bedtime story from a wise old grandfather, even though I never knew either of my grandfathers. I like to hear him talk too. But John had the honors this time. He handed out a press release purportedly from Canada, dated today, author unknown.
“Through a highly unfortunate series of events, which are not yet fully understood, a deadly biological agent was released within the United States Moon Colony at the International Lunar Space Station on January 7, 2093. The communicable agent, dubbed “Anthrax E”, is now known to have reached the moon aboard Egypt VIII, and, within a matter of days, began to spread through the lunar population with terrible velocity.
“Contagion appears to be through the transmission of bacteria via coughing and sneezing, like a common cold. Based upon evidence to date, Anthrax E has a gestation period of approximately eight days from initial infection to death of the host.