by P. R. Garcia
“Even if there was, there aren't the resources,” Dr. Q added, now understanding Gayle’s shock. “No rocket, no fuel.”
“And no supplies,” Max said. “And we thought we had it bad. They have to be just sitting up there waiting to run out of food and starve to death.”
“Well, they won’t die alone if we have anything to say about it,” Dr. Q stated. “Let’s hear the messages. Maybe we can figure out how to talk to them.”
Max clicked on the first message. Through the computer speaker, they heard a male’s voice say,
“Dylan, too busy to talk? How’s the penguin study coming along? It appears you have some decent weather down there. Up here it’s, well, just gorgeous. We had a small meteor shower last night. Was really something. I’ll give you a call same time next week. Major Wesley signing off.”
“The Space Station crew must not have known about the virus,” Max stated. He played the second message.
Message two:
“Hey Dylan, Ignacio. Where are you guys? I’m getting a little worried here. Is your satellite link down or something? If you get this message, hang out the blue flag so I can see you’re okay. Major Wesley out.”
Message three:
“We received word from HQ that there’s some kind of disease streaking across the planet killing everything in its path. Is that why you aren’t answering my calls? Are you sick, or even dead? Or have they evacuated you? Every time we pass over I look for the blue flag, but nothing yet. Please, if you are alive, give me a signal. Major Wesley out.”
Message four:
“Week four, you guys, and still no response. I can only assume that you fell victim to this horrible disease. HQ informed us a few days ago that there’s no way to bring us back to Earth. Apparently, this disease has taken a majority of the crew that sends up the rockets. They said that means no supplies either. Everyone’s really bummed up here. Haven’t been able to correspond with our families or HQ in several days. We’ve noticed entire sections of the Earth dark at night. A lot of the large cities show no lights. And several areas have fires that appear to be out of control. We can’t help but wonder if we are the only humans left alive. Major Wesley out.”
Max paused for a moment before playing the last message. “Go ahead, Max,” Dr. Q said. “We might as well hear this one too.”
Message six:
“We’ve seen no sign of life on Earth or heard from anyone in over a week. We can only assume that everyone is dead. This is a testimony from the Space Station crew of what we have been able to observe. Using several satellites around the planet, we have been able to zoom in on various locations around the world. All the major cities of the world, including New York, Los Angeles, Quebec, London, Paris, Morocco, Rio de Janeiro, Rome, Melbourne, Mexico City and Moscow, show no signs of life. Fires rage through most of the cities and the streets are littered with the bodies of animals and humans. The grasslands of the United States show thousands of dead cattle, wolves, coyotes, bears, pronghorn, deer and bison. The savannas of Africa are covered with just about every African animal imaginable, including rhinos, elephants, lions, zebras, wildebeests, gazelles and baboons. The oceans of the world are littered with the bodies of marine life. In all of our searches, not one life form – either human or animal – has been seen. Plant life, however, seems not to be affected. Whatever this virus is or where it came from, it’s deadly, and it moves fast. In less than two months, it reduced Planet Earth to a planet devoid of all animal life.
We were due for a shipment of supplies that will not be coming. It is estimated that if we ration our supplies, we have approximately six months of food to sustain us. Since our water is recycled, that should be sufficient. Thankfully, the Station has an inexhaustible amount of energy, so that is not a problem. The Station will continue to operate long after we are dead. Floating above a dead world is not something any of us look forward to, but we will use the time to document whatever we can. Perhaps someone someday will be able to use it and know the great human race once existed on this planet, if our species does not survive.
We are also issuing a warning to any intelligent life who may stumble upon our once-thriving planet. DO NOT attempt to land on Earth. You will die.
This is Major Paul Wesley. On behalf of my comrades, Lt. Commander John Eckstein, Commander Achman Mohammad Regii, Commander Maria Espinosa Sanchez and Captain Uli Swensson, this is our last transmission. If somehow our families can hear this, know that we love you dearly.
The three sat there not saying a word, playing the last message over again in their mind. What bravery and heroism. After a few minutes, Dr. Q broke the silence. “Max, I need for you to find a way to communicate with them. They have access to what we need – a view on the rest of the world. They can see where we can’t and, hopefully, send us a video of any life they find.”
“But he said they haven’t seen anything,” Gayle reminded the doctor.
“True, but that was several weeks ago,” Dr. Q answered. “We didn’t see anything either. Remember? Not until we learned what to look for. Then we started to find various life forms. Besides, we can’t let them die alone thinking all life down here is gone. We can tell them that some of us two-legged apes still exist.”
“I kept Dylan’s manuals and notebooks out just in case I might need them,” Max replied. “I can go through them and see if I can figure out how to send them a message. We’ll send the message on Wednesday at 0-eleven hundred. That’s when these messages came in, so I assume that’s the time we’re both aligned to receive each other.”
“If that doesn’t work, we can always find the blue flag the Major spoke of and hang it outside,” Gayle suggested. “At least if they see it, they’ll know someone is still alive down here. They might even try to contact us.”
Dr. Q stood up, leaned forward, grabbed the small black box and kissed it. “How I love this red light that used to blink.” Everyone laughed. Until that moment, no one had noticed that the light had stopped flashing.
A GREENISH BLOB
Anxiety ran high Wednesday morning as the team waited for eleven o’clock to arrive. Just in case this didn’t work, they took Gayle’s advice and hug out the large blue flag. It had been a brutal endeavor securing it outside with the wind chill below zero, but they had somehow managed to get the job done.
They barely touched breakfast and kept walking around their small living area trying to keep busy but having little luck. At ten thirty, Max turned on the computer and brought the satellite program online. At ten forty he spoke into the mike, testing it to be sure it was operational. He could hear his own voice, so he hoped that meant it was working properly. At ten forty-five he typed in a short message in case his voice message was not received. Then, at precisely eleven a.m., he pushed down the microphones button and said.
“Space Station One, this is Ice Station 462. Can you hear me?”
Only static.
“Space Station One, this is Ice Station 462 located in Antarctica. Are you there?”
“Let’s give them a few minutes,” Dr. Q suggested. “They probably aren’t monitoring the radio since no one ever answered their calls. It will probably take them a bit to realize a call is coming in and answer it.”
“Wouldn’t they have seen the flag?” Gayle asked.
“Only if they were looking for it,” Lachlan replied.
After five minutes, Max repeated the greeting. Again, nothing. Then a voice. “Space Station One here. My gosh, is that you Dylan?”
“No, Major Wesley, my name is Maximillian Vladimir Stans,” Max answered. “Most people call me Max.”
“Well, Max, it’s great to hear you,” came the unknown voice over the speaker. The three could hear others talking in the background, possibly huddled around the receiver, exhilarated to hear another human was alive. “How’s Dylan, Ignacio and the rest of the crew doing? You guys had us really worried. Good thing you hung that damn flag out, or we wouldn’t have been listening this morning. In fact, i
t was just by pure chance that we spotted it at all. Uli had a feeling that someone was still down there and never gave up. She spotted it on a fly by yesterday.”
Max looked at Dr. Q. He didn’t know what to say. “Major Westley, my name is Dr. Lachlan Quartermaine, head pathologist of this group. I regret to inform you that Dylan and the rest of the Australian crew succumbed to the LO virus several months ago.”
There was only silence on the other end. Then a sorrowful voice came through. “We were afraid that was why he didn’t respond to our messages. Dr. Quartermaine, what is happening down there? Everywhere we’ve looked is death. At night, the Earth is dark, like no humans exist anymore. And how are you two still alive?”
“Actually, there are three of us,” Gayle announced. “I am Professor Gayle Dilbert, a paleontologist from the Universe of Michigan.”
“Professor Dilbert. It is nice to know that not only men survived this onslaught.”
“Major, before we tell you what’s happened and how we’re still alive, I need to know how long our connection will last?” Dr. Q asked.
“Dylan and I usually talked only two to five minutes,” the Major replied. “But I estimate that we have somewhere between sixteen and twenty-seven minutes before we lose the connection.”
“And we can only communicate at this time on Wednesdays?”
They heard laughter. “Wednesday was the day Dylan and I agreed on. Our conversations weren’t really part of the Australian study, but Dylan somehow got permission from his university and NASA to do some communication contacts. We orbit the planet approximately every ninety-two minutes. We can contact you once or several times each day, on a set day or every few days. The choice is yours.”
A huge smile spread across the doctor’s face. “That’s fantastic news. We’ve been going crazy down here with no one to speak with.”
“I know the feeling” the Major laughed.
“We need to see what lies above the Equator. If possible, pictures and video of when the disease first struck so we can determine which life forms still survived. Too much time has gone by now to identify any corpses out there. The bloating and decaying of the bodies would make identifying them impossible.”
“You really think some life has survived?”
“Most definitely, including humans. We’re trying to compile a list of all surviving species in an attempt to find a cure. Can you help?”
Chattering was heard over the speaker. “We started recording what we saw the moment we lost contact with NASA. We already erased some of the recordings, but a good chunk still remains. We thought it best to keep it for future documentation. I can get it together and send it to you our next orbit around.”
“Great. Can we send you documents? It might save time if I send our needs to you in written form?”
“It’s a little tricky, but we might be able to walk you through it.”
“Actually, it will be Max you’ll walk through.”
“Before I do that, would you please tell us what has happened? We are entirely in the dark up here. Our respective governments would give us very little information. Then all communication stopped.”
“Of course, Major.” For the next eleven minutes, Dr. Q gave the Space Station crew a condensed version of the disease, how it was found, how quickly it spread across the planet and their confinement in Antarctica.
“We’re drifting out of range,” came the Major’s voice. “Talk to you in ninety-three. . .” Silence.
All three burst into laughter when the connection ended. Each was filled with a euphoria they could hardly believe. They had actually talked with other human beings. It didn’t matter that they were in space; all that mattered was that they were someone different than the three of them. And they were possibly going to receive data from areas north of the equator. At last, they would know how the northern hemisphere had been affected by the LO virus. Could this day get any better? Not one of the three even contemplated what the new data would reveal -- the horror, the Armageddon, the finite truth.
“Space Station One calling Ice Station 462,” came Major Wesley’s voice over the speaker at thirteen point forty-five hours.
“Ice Station 462 receiving you loud and clear, Major,” Max replied. He looked up at the clock, motioning Dr. Q and the professor over to the desk. “You’re five minutes early.”
“Actually, we’ve been broadcasting for about ten minutes,” the Major replied. “We wanted to pick up the exact instant you could receive our signal to add some time to our conversations. Twenty minutes is not much time to answer yours and our questions, plus download data. We’ve repositioned our antenna slightly. It should add a few more minutes to the end of our time, possibly stretch our communication to thirty minutes. Commander Sanchez and Captain Swensson were able to put together a video of what we have recorded. But I must inform you, Dr. Q, it is graphic and very disturbing.”
“Thanks for the warning, Major, but it can’t be any worse than what we have already seen in the Southern Hemisphere,” Dr. Q replied. “In one of your recorded messages, it sounds as if the cities in the northern section suffered the same fate as those in the south. We were hoping that, as the virus spread northward, it would weaken and the death toll would diminish. You’ve still seen no signs of life?”
“None,” Major Wesley replied, his voice devoid of all emotion. Dr. Q wondered if it was because he was a military man trained to be objective in death situations or if the sheer magnitude of death had numbed him. He surmised it was a little of both.
“If agreeable to you, we have devised a schedule for our contacts,” the Major said. “We will talk for the first eight to ten minutes. Five minutes before we are directly in line with you, we will download data; either you to us or us to you. That is when the signal is the strongest and has the best chance of being received. Once the downloads are complete, we will use any remaining time to talk again until we are out of range. To accommodate the time needed to download files, we will alternate who is sending and who is receiving. Does this sound agreeable to you?”
“Yes, Major.”
“Captain Swensson will now walk Max through the process of receiving our data and how to record it. More than likely, it will take up the rest of our communication. If so, we will talk again around fifteen point twenty-four hours.”
The speaker went silent for a few moments as the Major and Captain switched places. It was strange that there was no sound associated with the move like on Earth. Only the silence of space.
“Max, this is Captain Swensson,” came the soft, feminine voice. “Are you ready to begin?”
“Yes, Captain,” Max replied.
Although the process was not extremely difficult, it did take the remainder of their connection with the Station to download the data. Everyone hoped the process would go quicker as Max became familiar with the operation and the various components. Dr. Q watched anxiously as images quickly displayed on the screen. As the Major had said, they were horrifying, but not unlike the ones he had already seen. His hopes that the Northern Hemisphere would have been spared some were shattered. It appeared there was nowhere that the virus had not infiltrated and killed.
Suddenly he felt something wet on his cheek. He was crying, crying for all the life that was gone. He looked over and saw Max and Gayle had tears on their cheeks too, the realization that the virus’s destruction was universal manifested in their emotions.
“I forgot what the cities looked like,” Gayle said. “So much death.”
“From some of the shots, it appears they were struck down even faster in the North,” Max commented.
“Possibly,” Dr. Q replied. “The Northern cities would be more congested, having higher concentrations in smaller spaces. And the quality of air would have been worse in some, allowing the virus to attack already compromised tissues.”
“If mankind does somehow survive this plague, I hope they never forget these images,” Gayle stated. “I pray we never forget what our greed, indif
ference and desire to have it all cost this planet.”
“Max, make a copy disc that we can use on the laptop,” Dr. Q instructed. “Also, if there are any photos of the animal life outside of the cities, make a separate copy of that for Gayle. Did the Station include a list of what the cities were?”
“Yes, Dr. Q,” Max replied.
“If you could print that out, I’ll compare their list with ours to see if we have duplicates. Gayle, do you have your report ready explaining which life forms we have detected and how to spot them? We’ll need to upload that data on the Space Station’s next flyby.”
“All ready to go,’ Gayle said, wiping away one last tear.
So it went for the next several weeks. The two groups talked and shared information five to six times a day. The meetings gave each team new vigor and purpose. For the first time in weeks, both groups felt like they were actually accomplishing something.
Dr. Q’s team gave the astronauts a list of subjects to search for and kept the space travelers apprised of their findings. The astronauts became very skilled at locating animal life, finding several species that had survived, including polar bears in the Arctic, giant land tortoises in the Galapagos and flying foxes in Australia. Two things Dr. Q specifically asked the Space Station to do was search Tasmania for the elusive Tasmanian devil and Bikini Atoll for Max’s coconut crabs. They needed to know if they, like the vultures, were immune to the disease. It took several flybys, but the ISS crew finally located a group of six Tasmanian devils, eagerly chowing down on the carcass of a dead kangaroo. So far, they had not been able to verify if coconut crabs were still alive or not. The biggest problem there was identifying which of the many Pacific Ocean islands were Bikini Atoll. Although a disappointment, they were not discouraged by the lack of crab confirmation. The proven existence of the devils was fantastic news, another indication they were on the right track to beating this virus.