Countdown to Extinction

by Louise Moss

  “Why didn’t he just say so?”

  The smell filled the laboratory as Hagan worked. It brought with it images of the future: sunshine warm on his body, being surrounded by plants and animals, the planet emerging from its long descent into extinction. It gave him hope.

  As the Primitives slept that night, he carefully removed the memory of the storerooms. They would have no knowledge of ever having been there.

  Daily life fell into a pattern. During the day Gerald and Emma stayed in the vault, building the hydroponics system. At nightfall they went out into the fresh air, keeping close to the wall on the side away from the dome so that the Worker building the clinic would not see them. As they strolled hand in hand they liked to imagine the world as it would look one day. It helped them set aside the terrors of the past as they talked of the time they would move back to the dome and their new rooms in the housing block.

  They lived in a twilight world, a world between two worlds. The past was gone for good, and the world of plenty had not yet arrived. It felt as if the earth had paused, its life energy passive and dormant, waiting for the right time to wake from its sleep. Throughout those years when the earth was dying, a flame had kept burning, deep underground, a flame that refused to die: the hope that in time things would change, for the earth had learned that nothing remained the same forever. The earth knew that one day its flame of consciousness would be fed and it could send its energy pulsing upwards, to burst out into new life. It had lain patiently waiting for its long journey to end.

  13

  Three months later, the building work was finished and the workers had gone. Gerald and Emma moved into their new rooms overlooking what would one day be the garden, returning to the vault every day to attend to the crops in the hydroponics system. One of the large halls now contained avocados, blueberries and lima beans, chosen for their high nutritional value.

  It was time for Hagan to see whether the solution to neutralise the soil on the Outside would work over a large area. His fear of being out there had subsided only a little after seeing that no long-term harm had come to the Primitives.

  It was a bitterly cold day, dark, with the pale sun struggling to break through thick clouds when he left the vault in a thermal suit intended for the sub-zero conditions of the vault, carrying a small vessel whose contents held all the hope for the future.

  Gerald and Emma watched Hagan making his way slowly across the bare earth, the bitter wind almost knocking him off his feet.

  “What’s he up to now?” Emma asked.

  Gerald had not entirely lost the connection with Hagan that began when he had transferred information to him. Figures and symbols now flashed through his mind, indecipherable, but he knew what they meant.

  “It’s subatomic. The stuff in that tube he’s holding normalises the bit of earth it touches, which then acquires the ability to normalise the next bit. It’s a chain reaction. That’s the idea, anyway.”

  He lowered his voice, sounding as if he were praying. “The earth has been given a second chance. Let us learn from our past mistakes and nurture everything that will grow here. We will respect every living creature, and always remember that we are but servants of the creator, not masters.”

  Emma clapped her hands. “! Let’s go out and join him. We can start digging the trench.” Now that the crops were growing well in the vault, the plan was to divert part of the river to create a lake that would, in time, be stocked with fish. An area about twenty-five feet in diameter had been already been excavated for this purpose, but it needed a gully to connect it to the river so they could fill it with water.

  “You’ve forgotten something. We haven’t got any spades.”

  Something tugged at Gerald’s mind, a memory – no, it was gone. But he knew where to find the spades he needed.

  “They’re in the dining room.”

  “I didn’t see any there.”

  As if they had summoned the spades by some sort of magic, that stood where Gerald had known they were, propped up in the corner near the door.

  “It’s a long time since I’ve done any digging. A couple of thousand years! My dad liked gardening and I used to help. We planted some beetroots once. They were delicious! And wonderful parsnips, creamy white….”

  “You will have them once more, I promise.”

  The spades bounced off the dry and stony ground, but gradually, they made some progress. The bitter wind blew across the plain, bringing rubbish with it and setting off a small avalanche on one of the mounds of plastic and metal that dotted the area. The pollution caught at their lungs, making it hard to breathe. It took several hours to reach the river. As they scooped out the last spadeful of earth, the water began to trickle into the lake.

  “A crucial moment in the earth’s history,” Gerald pronounced.

  “Let’s celebrate. I know. It’s getting cold out here. We’ll call tomorrow Christmas Day,” Emma said.

  “Not much time to go shopping for presents!”

  “We’ll have a celebratory dinner. We’ll invite Hagan and Zorina.”

  “I don’t think they’ll come.”

  Hagan had returned to the vault. They found him in the hydroponics hall, collecting a sample of water for analysis. “We saw you out there with your solution,” Gerald said. “When will you know if it’s worked?”

  “Within one week, possibly sooner.”

  “We’ve come to invite you to Christmas dinner,” Emma said.

  “I do not know the meaning of Christmas.”

  “It’s a time to celebrate the birth of Jesus,” Gerald said, expecting a puzzled reaction from Hagan. Instead, he was leaning forward and speaking quickly. “You know of this person?”

  “Well, no, he lived a long time ago, about four thousand years. He was a spiritual leader and healer.”

  “This is good! I did not think I would hear that name again.”

  Emma picked a few blueberries. “What’s the matter with Hagan?”

  “Our people have many stories about Jesus that were passed down from our ancestors,” Hagan said.

  Emma rolled the blueberries around her mouth, savouring the taste. “What are you talking about? He was someone who was born here, not on that other planet you told us about.”

  “Jesus was the brave leader of the Kudlu.”

  “There must be two of them.”

  “He was leader of a small tribe that was persecuted by a neighbouring people. One day they were ambushed and were trapped in a….” He searched for the word. “Ravine. Is that the right word?”

  “Yes, go on,” Gerald said.

  “There was no way to escape. Death was imminent. Then a shape appeared in the sky.”

  Emma moved into a row of runner beans, peering between the leaves. “A UFO?”

  “It was a space travel vehicle, but the tribe did not know this. They thought their enemies had sent a terrible fate from the skies.”

  “What happened next?” Emma asked, picking a number of beans.

  “Jesus was not afraid. He told the people that the pod had come to save them, that it would send a beam of light down to the ground. He instructed them to walk into the light and told them they would be saved.”

  “I am the light of the world. That’s the sort of thing he used to say,” Gerald said.

  “And did they walk into the space ship?” Emma asked.

  Hagan shook his head. “Only Jesus. The others were too afraid, and most of them were slaughtered.”

  “And was Jesus saved?”

  “He disappeared and was never heard of again. When the enemies had gone, the surviving men searched for him but could not find him.”

  “And you think the space ship brought him here?” Emma said, appearing at his side.

  “That is the most likely explanation. You say he was a spiritual leader?”

  “Yes, he founded a religious movement that spread through the world and was still going two thousand years later.”

  “I have not heard this
story.”

  “Christianity must have died out. It seems strange, as it was so strong,” Gerald said.

  “In the year 2840, the World Leaders banned all religions.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they were the cause of war. Without religion, people accepted their neighbour and lived with him peacefully.”

  “That’s sensible,” Emma said. “My aunt fell out with another aunt over it. This other aunt got all religious and kept telling my other aunt that she was the devil’s servant because she was interested in astrology.”

  “I think Hagan is referring to something bigger: wars between countries, or civil war in Ireland.”

  “It’s all the same thing. Big or little, they still fight about it.”

  “This is a most exciting story. But what did you mean by Christmas?” Hagan asked, removing a few dead leaves from the plants.

  “It’s December twenty fifth. It’s meant to celebrate the day Jesus was born, but I think that’s wrong,” Emma said. “I know a bit about astrology myself.” Gerald raised an eyebrow. Emma giggled and went on. “I say Jesus was a Pisces. It’s obvious. My book said Pisces is the sign of spiritual things and healers and anyway, the Bible says his sign was a fish. That’s Pisces, so his birthday would be in February or March. So you see, I must be right.”

  “You must be!” Gerald agreed.

  “What happens at this celebration?” Hagan asked.

  “We give each other presents, decorate our houses, and eat a lot.”

  Hagan would certainly honour the great leader Jesus, but could not understand the Primitives’ need for a celebration such as the one they described. It was this emphasis on possessions that had ruined the planet.

  Hagan did not want to go to the Christmas meal. He could think of nothing worse than eating in front of the Primitives. He did not even eat in front of Zorina, but the Leaders had decreed that he go.

  “We like to have our family around us at Christmas,” Emma said as Hagan appeared.

  “Family? But we are not related.”

  “That doesn’t matter. You and Zorina are part of our family now.”

  The table was laden with food, far more than they could possibly eat. Potatoes, bread, a bowl of green salad leaves, beans and avocados, various colourful fruits, enough for at least eight people. His people had survived on a basic ration of seaweed while these Primitives had so much more. It was wrong.

  He picked up a strawberry. “I have never before seen such beautiful colours except in Mirages. “And the texture, the pitted surface. It is very pleasing.”

  Emma offered him the dish of vegetables and he took a green leaf almost reverently, stroking it along the veins.

  “Chicory,” Emma said, as he cautiously put out his tongue.

  “It is….” he began, but he did not have the words to describe it, even in his own language.

  “Crispy and slightly bitter,” Gerald said. “A bit of an acquired taste, but rich in Vitamin B.”

  Vitamin B was essential for a healthy body. One day, Hagan wanted to stand straight and tall, like the Primitives.

  “Zorina has been working on a new programme so that the Primitives can absorb our language," Hagan said.

  Emma put down the bowl. “You need to stop calling us Primitives. It’s not very nice.”

  “Very well. I need to reprogram our systems so that you can learn our language.”

  “We wouldn’t be too happy at plugging ourselves in to whatever the machine it is that you use and allowing it full access to our minds,” Gerald said, cutting into a tomato.

  “No, I don’t want you messing about with my head”.

  “Emma, Zorina asks only that you to talk about the things you see around you, describing what you are doing, like the making of the bread.”

  “You’d just want me to talk?”

  “That’s all you’d have to do.”

  “Well, I never thought talking would do so much good. Now we’ve got that sorted out, it’s time for the presents!”

  She had taken two large stones and decorated them with swirls and patterns of colour, made from berry juice.

  “Now something for you,” Gerald said, reaching into his pocket and drawing out a small bottle filled with liquid. “From both of us.”

  She unscrewed the top and held it to her nose. “Lily-of-the-valley. How did you do that?”

  “I came up with the idea. Hagan analysed the chemical make-up of the flowers and found just the right mixture to get the smell.”

  Emma’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s the best present I’ve ever had. My mother used to pick them and put them on the table for Sunday lunch.”

  The meal seemed interminable. Finally back in his room several hours later, Hagan removed the protective layer of light he had created. Without it, it would have been impossible to spend so much time with the Primitives, or to eat with them. Even so, it would take him a long time to return his body to a state of harmony.

  The language programme had been Zorina’s idea. It was a distraction, a way to ensure the Primitives felt involved. They must never guess that the Leaders had decreed that they must be eliminated as soon as they were no longer needed.

  Things were back to normal the next day. Or were they? Hagan wondered as he made his way over to the Primitives’ quarters. The command centre had been moved to the dining room and, when he arrived, Gerald was already making strange marks on the wall in chalk.

  “Thank you for my new job!” Emma said. “I’m going to show the people here just what they’ve been missing.”

  “That is good.”

  “Rob taught me once how to make composting toilets. He thought they were the answer to the world’s problems.”

  “He was way ahead of his time,” Gerald said.

  “You can use whatever’s lying around to build it. Bits of wood, an old oil drum; the walls can even be built with plastic bottles.”

  “Emma, you’re a genius. You can be in charge of the composting toilet programme!”

  “Gosh, I get all the good jobs.”

  Hagan looked puzzled. There were still many words that the Language Filter did not know. But their humour…he did not understand what amused them, or the source of their laughter.

  “We call it irony,” Gerald explained. “You can put it in your language programme.” They looked at Hagan’s puzzled face and burst out laughing again.

  14

  It was the middle of the afternoon. Emma lay on her bed looking pale. Gerald stood over her, a worried look in his eye. She was less resilient than usual, no longer able to see the positive side to everything.

  “I was having a dream. I dreamed about my mother. I miss her,” Emma said.

  Gerald rocked her like a baby. “It will be all right; we’ll make it all right.”

  “I’ll be okay. It’s just - I wish she was here.” She paused. “Gerald, I’ve got something to tell you.”

  “What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

  “I’m pregnant!”

  “Are you sure?” There had been false alarms before.

  “I’m certain.”

  “Then I’m absolutely delighted. Clever old you. A baby to complete our family!”

  “But we can’t give it everything it needs.”

  “A baby needs time and love, and we’ve got plenty of both.”

  “But how can I have a baby?”

  “I will find you a midwife. You’re not to worry.”

  “Suppose they want to take it away like they did before?”

  “There’s only us here, and we’re free to go where we want.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “We’ll talk to Hagan, tell him how we want things to be. He’s been very accommodating lately. He doesn’t want to repeat past mistakes.”

  “What about Zorina? She’s never liked us.”

  “She’ll keep out of our way. She won’t trouble us.” He hoped fervently he could achieve all that he was promising. The
important thing was to keep Emma happy.

  Will you still be able to work on the language programme?”

  “Oh yes, I’m up to it. All I’ve got to do is talk, after all. I want our baby to know everything about our world anyway.”

  “Now for my news. Nothing as exciting as yours, of course. Do you know, the lake’s getting clearer. I think the bacteria we put on the land has drained into the lake and is working to clear it too.”

  “That’s really good news.”

  “I saw Hagan taking samples for testing. I’m hoping if the water’s good, we can start filling the lake with things like moss and liverwort and other plant life. One day we’ll stock it with fish.”

  “Hagan’s never eaten a fish.”

  “Is that him over there? What’s he doing?”

  “I think he’s planting grass seed. Do you mind if I go and help him?

  Hagan had chosen a time when he thought the Primitives would not disturb him and was not pleased to see Gerald making his way out of the dome to join him.

  “If I succeed, we can start planting inside the dome,” he said as Gerald came up to him.

  “We must think about crop rotation, and we need to conserve water as much as possible until the weather sorts itself out.”

  “If you will draw up a plan, I will come to the dome and you can explain it to me.”

  The system had already devised the most efficient plan for planting. It was a simple matter to implant the plan into Gerald’s mind.

  “The Leaders have given permission for two more bodies to be released from the vault.”

  “That’s great news. Emma will be glad to know there will soon be another woman to talk to. She’s just told me she’s pregnant.”

  Hagan was not glad of this news, even though the Leaders would approve. The thought of one more Primitive was unpleasant.

  “You may come this afternoon to help choose who is most suitable.”

  He had already decided to bring out a couple who had a smallholding in Wales who had grown all their own food, and kept goats, pigs, cattle. They had been badly injured in the hurricane of 2059 when a tree blew down on top of their house while they were asleep. When they arrived at the hospital, they were in a coma and stayed like that for a year. The doctors wanted to turn off the life support system, but someone in the family suggested having the bodies frozen instead.