Countdown to Extinction

by Louise Moss

  “Do you know who they are?”

  “One of them is called Xanthippe.”

  “Strange name.”

  “Socrates’ wife.”

  “Who?”

  “I’m going to concentrate on her, see if I can get in touch.”

  Gerald closed his eyes and focussed his mind, repeating the name over and over again. After a while, an unknown voice spoke. “Identify yourself.”

  “Oh!” Emma grabbed hold of his arm. “She’s here.”

  The woman towered above them, resembling the picture he had seen once of Xanthippe, with her straight Roman nose and hair curled around her head.

  “I am Gerald and this is Emma. We are….” He hesitated. What were they, as far as this woman was concerned?

  “Bodies from the vault,” Emma said.

  Xanthippe stared at the couple. Gerald’s head tingled as it did when Hagan’s voice was in his head.

  “Is she real?” Emma whispered.

  “She’s tapping my mind, seeing what I know.”

  “Keep her out. Do what Hagan showed us.”

  “You know how to protect your mind,” Xanthippe said, “but you are powerless against me.”

  “I know, but we want to help. If you imprison my people as you did before, they won’t cooperate with you. We want to help you understand our world. Together, we can make the plan work.”

  “What do your people need?” The voice had a strange quality about it, reminding Emma of a doll she’d had as a child that could say a few tinny words.

  “To keep our own children for a start,” Emma said. “That’s the most important thing.”

  “Yes, I agree. Without that, nothing will work,” Gerald said. He went on to talk about their need to be free and to choose their own companions. “We have the talents and knowledge that you need – how to grow crops, look after animals, turn wheat into bread. We can do all of that.”

  While Gerald was talking, Emma reached out into the woman’s mind. It was a fraction of a second before she closed the connection, but it was long enough.

  “Gerald, it’s a computer.”

  “I was constructed by the human Xanthippe three hundred years ago. As she was dying she programmed me to carry out her work. This I have done.”

  “You made mistakes and now hundreds of my people are dead,” Gerald said bitterly.

  Xanthippe bowed her head. “It is regretted.”

  “We hated living in a prison.”

  He pushed aside his anger. The woman was a robot. What could she understand? “I want to create a community here. Let our people live together as we want to. We will teach you how to grow crops and tend the animals. The experiments can continue and gradually spread outwards. If we work together, we can save the earth from this destruction. If your plan is to work, you must understand us. We are the link that joins the old and the new worlds.”

  “Only Hagan has access to that information,” she said and suddenly disappeared.

  “Do you think she’s gone to find Hagan?” Emma said. “I hope we haven’t got him into trouble.”

  “Let’s see if we can find him.”

  They wandered around the vault until they came to the laboratory. Hagan was seated in front of a control panel, reading what looked like a complicated mathematical equation.

  “We’ve just spoken to Xanthippe,” Gerald said. “She was interested in what we had to say.”

  Hagan was concerned. Xanthippe would have tapped the Primitives’ minds and would now know about his mad race to the balcony, and that he had transferred information to the male. He expected no mercy. He doubted now they would allow his mind to be cleansed and reset. It was more likely that they would eliminate him altogether and destroy all evidence that he had once been alive.

  He needed to hide while he thought of a way to redeem himself, but where could he go that they would not find him? Feverishly he thought through the possibilities, but Xanthippe would sense him wherever he was. It needed a daring solution, something that had never been tried before.

  Whenever people were immersed in Mirages, their bodies remained visible; a little fuzzy and slightly less solid than usual, but they could always be seen. That wasn’t strictly necessary but it had been incorporated into the programme for their protection. Was it possible to override the settings so that he couldn’t be seen at all? Hide within a Mirage with no trace that Xanthippe could detect? And if he succeeded, would he ever get out of there alive?

  He adjusted the settings on the Mirage machine and entered the cave. The only noise was a slight crunching of his feet on the sandy floor and the gentle trickle of water. The cavern was vast, its domed roof stretching far above and huge boulders piled up by the walls. He crossed the cavern to an opening on the far side. Here were the first stalactite formations, thin straw-like strips hanging from the ceiling, creamy-white in colour.

  A short, dark passage with walls of black limestone led to a second, smaller cave. Light entered from somewhere above and reflected off the stalactite ropes dangling from huge bell-like boulders lodged in the roof. A large, white column joined the ceiling to the ground, spreading across the floor. Passing through this cave, he accidentally dislodged part of a stalactite. Stooping to avoid the low ceiling, he came to a narrow corridor sloping sharply downwards. Eventually the floor evened out and the passage widened, leading to a circular cave filled with the roar and thunder of a waterfall. High up in the chamber, the river escaped and tumbled down into a pool before rushing on its way.

  There, unexpectedly, was a figure leaning against a rock.

  “Didn’t expect me, did you?”

  “Baestel? What are you doing here?” It was not possible, yet here he was, that demonic grin on his face. “What do you want?”

  “It’s time you knew the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “Let me show you.”

  The cavern faded and into its place was a woman in labour about to give birth.

  “What is this?” Hagan asked.

  “You will see.”

  The baby was born and taken away. A few minutes later, another child was born.

  “Twins!” Hagan had learned that a woman sometimes gave birth to more than one child in the past but he had never known of it in his lifetime. “When does this scene take place?”

  The second child was taken away. The scene flashed through the years. One child was brought up to be a Superior enjoying the best food, a room of his own, all the training he needed. The other was brought up as a Worker, devoid of education, living with hundreds of other Worker children, scrabbling and fighting for food.

  “Who are these two brothers?” Hagan asked.

  The scene froze and Hagan found himself staring into his own face. The other child was Baestel.

  “What is this nonsense?”

  “Not nonsense. I am your brother. You had a good life but I was brought up as a Worker.

  “It is an accepted system. Those without the qualities to become a Superior must accept their place."

  “I had those qualities when I was born, but they chose you.”

  “This is madness. There is no evidence for what you say.”

  “You saw with your own eyes that I can project my image wherever I want. Have you ever known a Worker do that?”

  There was no denying it, but that did not prove that Baestel and Hagan were brothers.

  “There’s more. We were the result of an illegal liaison between a Worker and a Superior.”

  “That cannot be true. They would destroy any offspring of such a partnership.”

  “They marked us so they would know which one we were.” He pulled up the hem of his tunic. There, engraved at the bottom of his ribs was the code x-85729784 W.

  “W for worker. What does yours say?”

  “You do not belong here. You must leave,” Hagan said.

  “I have come to claim my life back,” Baestel said, springing forward and pulling Hagan’s tunic up, exposing the mark x-857297
84 S.

  Xanthippe followed the trail of Hagan’s thought patterns that he had left behind in the corridors. It took her to the laboratory and on to his sleeping quarters where the footsteps ended at the Mirage machine. Strangely, there was no sign of him. There was only one explanation. He had discovered a way to disguise all life signs.

  She left her search for Hagan and went to look at the underground planters. Back in the twenty-third century, the world had produced nine hundred million tons of wheat which they had made into a variety of nutritious foodstuffs but none had grown here for many hundreds of years.

  In the square trough, something was growing, green plants spread over the container which rustled as a draught of air swept through the vault. She breathed in the unusual smell and brushed her fingers through the rough spike at the top, admiring the symmetrical pattern. Contained in the plant was hope for the planet. It was Hagan’s achievement alone. He deserved to be executed for what he had done, but no other scientist around the world had achieved what he had achieved.

  She contacted the other Leaders. “If Hagan has discovered how to grow wheat, we must pardon him and allow him to complete these experiments,” Militiades said.

  Pythias spoke next. “I agree that it would be foolish to eliminate him now, but I suggest we carry out procedures to destroy the defective parts of his brain and ensure there are no more mistakes.”

  “I believe it is those defective parts of his brain that has allowed him to produce results where other scientists have failed,” Xanthippe said.

  “I agree with Xanthippe, but he must be closely monitored,” Militiades said.

  “Hagan’s companion Zorina has asked to be transferred to the town. Are we all agreed that this request will be refused?” Pythias said.

  The all agreed that she should remain by his side to monitor him and alert them to any strange behaviour. The transfer was refused.

  11

  “You’re getting younger!”

  Gerald shook his head. This was not the time for such a joke. He felt awful: ragged, tired and worried.

  “I mean it. You are looking younger. You’ve got less wrinkles and your hair’s brown instead of grey.”

  He had noticed that the brown liver spots on his hands were fading, and his skin was tighter and clearer. She could be right.

  “It was that drug they gave you, the one that – you know. You’ve been growing younger since then. You’re not listening to me, are you?”

  “I can hear something. It sounds like Hagan. Can you hear him?

  Emma put her head to one side. “I can hear something. ‘The Caves of Santathustra’. What’s that?”

  “It sounds as if Hagan’s calling for help. He’s hiding in the Caves of Santathustra. That’s what it sounds like.”

  “Where are they? They must be nearby.”

  “The signal is weak. He says go to the Mirage machine in his room. Zorina is there and needs our help.”

  “I don’t want anything to do with that woman.”

  “Nor do I, but if Hagan’s in danger … We’d better go and see what this is all about. She’ll never ask us herself.”

  Zorina glared at them as they came in. Fearing a repeat of what had happened in the vault, Gerald turned to go.

  “Stay!” She had softened her voice a little, but it still sounded like an order. “I do not wish you to go. I will not hurt you. You must help Hagan.”

  “We don’t have – ,“ Emma began. Gerald dug her in the ribs with his elbow.

  “I must go in and rescue Hagan. You will see my outline, but you must not disturb my body.”

  “Where are you going? Where are these caves Hagan’s hidden in?”

  “I must go inside the Mirage machine. You will see the outline of my body. If it begins to fade, you must touch this light here.”

  “What does she mean?” Emma asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Press this light here, but not unless my body begins to fade.”

  “Right,” said Gerald. He turned to Emma. “I’ve no idea what this is all about. She seems to be saying that Hagan has hidden in this machine, but that can’t be right, can it? That seems too farfetched even for these strange times.”

  When he turned back, Zorina’s outline was already faded and there was no more than a fuzzy shadow to show where she had stood. “It’s like when the TV went funny,” Emma said.

  Zorina walked quickly through the first cave, along the passage and through the second cave, descending to the final chamber. Hagan was sitting on the floor, his back resting against a rock.

  “I have hurt my ankle. It was damaged when I jumped from the balcony.” He stood up a little uncertainly. “It is difficult to walk and I am feeling weak.”

  “There is something else. What has happened?”

  “I think the drug has not completely worn off. My mind is creating strange images.”

  “What did you see?”

  “It was not real. I saw Baestel. He told me I was my twin brother.”

  “It does not seem likely, but if it is true, there will be records.”

  “Such records will be top secret. I will not have access to them.”

  “We will talk about this some more, but now, you must leave here. I do not know how long you can survive.,” She had never known anyone to enter a Mirage with his whole body as well as his mind and was not certain whether he would be able to leave at all, but she began the rescue by creating the image of a walking stick.

  Wincing with pain, he walked slowly, leaning heavily on the stick. Bit by bit, they crossed the circular cave and the stalactite and limestone caverns until they came to the steps.

  “We must hurry,” Zorina said. Hagan went down onto his knees and crawled up the stairs. When he got to the top, he lay down with the eyes closed. The climb had taken all his energy.

  They were at the entrance to the caves, but without his body safely in the room to guide him back, she wasn’t even sure it could be done.

  Standing at the entrance, Zorina let her mind dwell on the room beyond. Gradually a multi-coloured cloud ballooned out from her, strong and powerful, in the centre of which was a tiny image of the room they’d left behind. Hagan was sitting up now, rubbing his ankle.

  “You must join me,” Zorina said.

  “I am too weak.”

  “It is the only way. You cannot stay here.”

  Hagan hobbled over to her. The pain in his ankle made it difficult to focus on the image of the room. With a final effort, he sent his thoughts out to connect with Zorina’s. He felt overcome with tiredness, but just as he thought he could not go on, their thought waves began to merge, matching each other’s pattern until they became one, vibrating in harmony. The pulse grew stronger until it became a coil of silver rope, joining their bodies to the small image of the machine inside the cloud. With relief, Hagan felt the familiar sensation of his body disintegrating as he travelled down the cord and entered the shimmering cloud.

  After Zorina’s body faded, which they assumed meant she was somehow inside the machine, Gerald and Emma sat and waited, watching carefully that her image did not disappear altogether. After some time, the image began to change, the outline filled in, became more solid until she was completely back. Another outline appeared beside her, fuzzy at first, but as it came into focus, Gerald and Emma stared in horror. The apparition was hideous. The right eye was lower than the left; in fact, the whole face was lopsided, and the large ears stuck out from the face. The top of the head was covered with a few wisps of dry, dark brown hair.

  “Who are you?” Emma cried.

  “What has happened to you?” Gerald said.

  “I am sorry, it is I, Hagan. You see me as I am. I am too weak to show you the image you wish to see.”

  Gerald and Emma turned to each other. “It sounds like him,” Gerald said.

  “What does he mean? That Hagan we saw, that tall man with blond hair and blue eyes, was it just another illusion?”

  �
��I think it does. He didn’t want us to see him like this.”

  “How many more illusions can there be?”

  “We must not let his appearance change anything. We must remember, he is still the same person.”

  “Our people have been disfigured by the pollution that has covered the earth for so many centuries,” Hagan said.

  “Back in our day, there was concern that the pesticides we used would run off the land into rivers and lakes,” Gerald said. “They were worried it would lead to deformities in the creatures that lived in the water and eventually get into the population.”

  “I have seen records of mutations in plants due to depleted uranium.” Hagan said.

  “I once saw a duck with four legs. We thought it was funny, but I suppose it wasn’t,” Emma said.

  Gerald nodded. “We created a lot of damage.”

  “Our people hate the people of the past because they caused these problems for us.”

  “That’s understandable. How many are affected?”

  “All of them, for many years.”

  Hagan limped to a chair and sat down heavily, rubbing his ankle.

  “Your services are no longer required,” Zorina said. “You may leave.”

  Emma ignored her. “Are you hurt?” she asked as she bent down and took hold of his foot..

  Zorina’s eyes flashed. “Do not touch him!” Her anger hit Emma like a bullet before she heard the words.

  “Zorina, stop,” Hagan said. “Remember their brains can be easily damaged.”

  Emma still held on to the ankle.

  “Leave him,” Zorina said.

  “You’d better do as she says,” Gerald said, remembering the incident in the vault.

  “Let’s go,” Emma said. “We’re not wanted here.” As they went out the door, she said, “He’s sprained it, that’s all. He needs to rest it. I took a first aid course, you know.”

  Gerald smiled. Whatever the situation, Emma had the answer. She was such a positive person who didn’t dwell on the past but got on with what had to be done.

  When they had gone, Zorina said, “The Leaders have given you a temporary pardon. They saw the wheat growing and wish you to continue with the experiments.”