by JE Gurley
He began dressing and then lacing his boots. Liz crawled across the bed and leaned her cheek against his back.
“We have to do this again. Soon.”
He turned around and kissed her. “Very soon.”
Just as he stood, someone knocked at the door. She yanked the sheet up over her body.
“What is it?” he snarled at the unwelcome intruder on their privacy.
“Sorry to bother you, but you might want to take a look at this.”
Brad recognized Hughes’ voice. He knew Hughes wouldn’t bother him unless it was important. When he opened the door, Hughes discreetly turned his back.
“What’s wrong?”
“Let’s go to the roof.”
Thinking that Hughes simply wanted to point out the sunrise, he followed Hughes up the ladder to the roof. The outside air reeked of sulfur. Bits of ash landing on his tongue tasted bitter and flinty. He gazed at Mt. Erebus belching out smoke and lava; then faced the eastern horizon, but saw only a faint smudge of light.
“Not that,” Hughes said, “this.”
He followed Hughes’ gaze to the scores of zombies surrounding the science building and gasped. He quickly counted over a hundred. They moved in slow circles around the building or stood and gazed at windows and doors expectantly.
“How long have they been here?” Brad asked.
“I spotted them a few hours ago. There were about thirty then. More keep showing up. I decided I had better let someone know.”
“Why now? Because of Wilkie?” A few zombies had seen them enter the building, but that was at the aquarium at the far end of the complex and happened almost a week earlier. These zombies seemed focused on the Core Pod.
“I don’t think so.”
Brad briefly considered their behavior to the rising sun, but their attention was drawn not eastward toward the sun, but toward the science building. Why was Hughes on the roof? When Brad had followed Malosi the first time, Hughes had been on the roof. Wilkie’s unexpected arrival had prevented him from asking Hughes then what he was doing up there. What had brought him onto the roof this time? Certainly, the air inside was cleaner than the dust-laden air outside. There was no view to draw one’s eye.
“Why were you up here?” he asked.
Hughes hesitated for a moment, and then said, “I’ve been watching Malosi same as you.”
This surprised Brad. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Maybe the same reason that you didn’t tell me.”
Brad smiled at Hughes’ irrefutable logic. “You may be right. I guess trust has been in short supply.”
“It is where Malosi is concerned.”
“He’s been sitting by the radio as if he’s waiting for a call from someone.”
Hughes nodded. “I figured as much. Bastard’s been holding out on us.” He pointed to the zombies surrounding the building. “I think he has something to do with these zombies showing up.”
“For what purpose?”
“I don’t know. While you were with Liz, I watched him sneak out again. He came back about twenty minutes ahead of the first zombies.”
Brad felt a twinge of guilt at abandoning his tailing of Malosi for a few minutes alone with Liz. “Do we confront him about it?”
“No. He’ll just lie. Too many of the others trust him more than they do you or me. He’s been working them like a revival preacher – a kind word here, a pat on the back there, and that constant smirky smile on his face. He’s even swayed Deen.”
“Deen? That seems unlikely. Deen hates Malosi.”
“They’ve had a few long conversations away from prying ears.”
“About what?”
Hughes shrugged. “I wasn’t privy, but Deen’s smile frightened me. He looks like a kid pulling wings off flies.”
“What do we do about these zombies?”
“We’re pretty safe here for now, but when supplies run low, going after more might be dicey.” He glanced at the horizon. “When the sun comes up, they’ll be able to see us better.”
Brad closed his eyes and imagined the sun rising over the Turtle Mountains in North Dakota. He could feel the first rays of warmth washing the nights chill from his face. He opened his eyes and saw only darkness. “I don’t care. I need to see the sun again.”
* * * *
Malosi enjoyed his time working in the lab with Liz Strong. She was a beautiful woman and it had been a long time since he had seen a woman. The military in its sublime wisdom had insisted on an all-male staff at Resurrection City to avoid ‘erosion of morale’, as they put it. This had delighted the half dozen gay staffers and had infuriated the remainder. Being so near a woman stirred him in ways he had thought forgotten.
She worked diligently and at times with bursts of inspiration that he admired, but she was no nearer a solution than when they had begun. He offered her his knowledge of the nanites, which was admittedly poor, and of the endocrine system of the human body, which for surpassed her own. For her, their work was a desperate attempt at a solution. For him, it was merely a way to pass the time in pleasant company.
Liz placed a tissue sample into the electron microscope and stared at it on the computer screen. The nanite resembled a horseshoe crab with two pair of tiny manipulator arms on one end. It operated much as did a cell, drawing nutrients in through the permeable membrane and excreting sugar for the host body and replicating target cells. A loud sigh escaped her lips.
“It looks so innocuous, almost beautiful.”
“So does a plague virus,” he reminded her. She angrily turned off the screen. Malosi smiled at her frustration. “I warned you there was no cure.”
Her glare warmed him as much as would her caress.
“I can’t believe anyone would create such a monster without a leash, some way of controlling it.”
He shrugged. “Some monsters operate better with no restraints. The nanites lethality intrigued the military. We did not anticipate it becoming airborne.”
“That’s what I don’t understand. How could it have become airborne? It was created to function inside the human body at certain temperatures, a certain degree of humidity – how could it survive outside the host?”
“We did not have time to search for an answer, but I do have a theory.”
“Please explain.”
She sat with her arms folded beneath her breasts, pushing them up and out. He longed to reach out and caress them, but knew where that would land him. Later, when her desperation for survival became a driving force, she would come to him.
“Our nanite is about 250 nanometers in size. The protective coat is not capsid as in most viruses, but a synthetic protein we called acromase, infused with molecules of zinc and selenium, which are present in the human body. I believe the nanite reduces its size by half, encapsulates itself like a spore, and spreads in the air.”
Her mouth opened. “My God! It learns.”
“Yes. Memory is after all chemical in nature. A simple molecular strand contains sufficient information to adapt to different conditions.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “You created a thinking, adapting robot?”
He had a difficult time suppressing his smile at her insight. “Yes.”
She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. “God help us all.”
He doubted that God, if he existed, was concerned with the pitiful plight of his human creations or inclined to step in and correct man’s mistakes. If the past was any indication, God preferred to wait until things reached a head and then wipe the slate clean.
21
Sept. 21, McMurdo Base, Antarctica
The sun rose slowly on the first day of spring, as if the icy land’s grip on it was immune to the sun’s heat. At last, it melted the frozen tendrils binding it to the earth and climbed higher into the gray, ash-hazed sky, a dull red blob of light. In doing so, it revealed the carnage and destruction of McMurdo Base. It also exposed the zombies surrounding the science building and infesting t
he base to the light of day. The creatures, born into darkness, had never seen the sun and stood mesmerized by its brightness, as if some kernel of memory, some spark of human joy remembered its beauty.
Brad, Hughes, DeSousa, and Bain stood on the roof looking out over the devastation. As much as the first faint rays of sun touching his skin delighted him, the sight below was disheartening. A hundred zombies circled the building and more patrolled the grounds between buildings. When Hughes leaned over the edge of the roof, a single zombie caught sight of him and began a loud wail that the others picked up until soon, a sea of growls, moans, and calls swept across the base. Their brief awe of the rising sun was gone, replaced with their thirst for blood and flesh.
“The natives are restless,” Hughes joked.
Brad didn’t share Hughes’ sense of humor. The sight chilled him to the bone. “They’re hungry, starving.”
“We could toss them Malosi.”
At this, Brad almost chuckled in spite of himself. “That would be cruel and heartless. The zombies deserve better.”
In spite of their attempts at levity, the severity of the situation, brought home even more abundantly by the light of day, was no joking matter. If the creatures made a concentrated effort at breaking in, the barricaded doors and windows would not stop them. Their hunger was driving them to greater extremes. Brad had earlier spotted several zombies out on the ice chasing Adelaide penguins in an almost comical fashion, the penguins waddling and sliding on their bellies, and the zombies slipping and falling. The penguins had abandoned most of the local rookeries under the zombie threat, but a few still tenaciously clung to their territories.
The zombies were visibly starving. The ones without little or no clothing showed obvious signs of starvation – gaunt scarecrows of death. If not for the nanites inhabiting their bodies, trickling minute amounts of energy in the form of sugars into their black, viscous blood, they would be immobile if not dead once again.
Mt. Erebus rumbled for the second time that morning, releasing a cloud of ash and gas. The building trembled as a minor quake struck. Brad almost ignored it. Such tremors had become more frequent, some large enough to wake him from sleep.
“We need to find more weapons and ammo,” he said. “Our few rifles and pistols won’t be enough if they manage to get inside.”
Hughes pointed to a supply building nearly a quarter of a mile away. “That’s where they would be.” He looked at Brad. “Any suggestions on how to get there?”
“It would have to be at night. Maybe a diversion like the one you used when Wilkie arrived.”
Hughes winced at the mention of Wilkie. His sudden death had shaken them all. He shook his head. “Someone would have to wade through zombies. I’m not volunteering.”
“We could start a ruckus on one side of the building,” Lester suggested, “opposite the direction we’re going.”
“What about the return trip?” Bain asked.
Lester smiled. “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“No, that might work,” Brad agreed. “We can distract them and slip through. We do the same thing when we return.” He looked around at the others. “So, we’re agreed?”
Slowly, they all nodded their assent.
“Okay, now all we need is a way to distract them.”
“I still say we use Malosi,” Hughes said.
Brad feared it wouldn’t take much persuasion for him to agree with Hughes. Malosi had been paying far too much attention to Liz. He had caught Malosi’s gaze lingering on her when he thought no one was watching. Malosi had offered no real help in the attempt at discovering a cure for the nanite plague, though he certainly knew more about the tiny robots than he pretended. He was intentionally withholding information. If not for the visible improvement in Liz’s morale that the work produced, Brad would have insisted that they stop working.
“Maybe a Molotov cocktail would do the trick,” Bain suggested. “They seem to be fascinated by fire.”
Brad nodded. “That might work. Now, who’s going?”
Hughes raised his hand. “I’m in. I need the exercise.”
Bain shrugged. “I’m up for a spot of adventure.”
Lester hesitated. “We need four,” Brad hinted. “If we find weapons, we’ll need a crate or something to carry them. I’d like at least two guards.”
“Oh, hell,” Lester finally said. “I’ll come along. Maybe I’ll find some cigarettes.”
Brad hated to cajole Lester into coming, but he wanted people who could shoot and people that he trusted. He didn’t trust Deen and wanted to leave DeSousa to watch Malosi and Deen.
“Good. We leave just after sunset.”
The others left, but Brad and Bain remained on the roof. Bain pretended to survey the base, but Brad could tell that he was trying to come to a decision about something. He seemed hesitant to broach whatever subject he wished to discuss. Brad decided to help him.
“So what’s on your mind?”
His question startled Bain. He jumped slightly, and then smiled. “Sorry, I was judging the benefits of mentioning something to you.”
“And?”
“Well, I’m no volcanologist, just a highly paid weatherman, but I think we have a problem. Mt. Erebus is becoming more active. It is an effusive volcano like Stromboli, but these tremors worry me. Last night I saw a second plume of smoke. I believe the underlying magma lake is spreading, destabilizing the entire shield.”
“I’m an astronomer, so speak slowly and use small words.”
“At least one of the three previously inactive volcanoes is now erupting.”
Brad knew the other three volcanoes – Mt. Terror, Mt. Bird, and Mt. Terra Nova. He had flown over them in a helicopter while training at McMurdo. Of the four, only Mt. Erebus was active. “What does it mean?”
“The entire lava chamber could erupt in a massive explosion, or a massive pyroclastic flow of tephra, hot volcanic gas and rock, could sweep over the island at a hundred kilometers per hour and at hundreds of degrees centigrade, destroying everything.”
He stared at Brad as if expecting some reply, but Brad was at a loss for words. Their only refuge was McMurdo. Now, a threat even greater than zombies had arisen, this time one of nature’s doing. It seemed that man had screwed up so badly that the earth wanted to eliminate all traces of its human infestation. Gaia was pissed. It suddenly struck him as funny. He began laughing. Bain gawked at him in utter astonishment. He leaned over the edge of the building and laughed at the zombies below.
“Okay, you dead bastards!” He thumped himself in the chest with his fist. “You’d better eat fast or you’ll burn in the hell you deserve.” He pointed to the growing ash cloud over Mt. Erebus. “That’s your Mt. Doom calling you. Even Lord Sauron can’t save your asses.”
His tirade at the zombies flushed his system of the ironic humor at the plight of the survivors. He turned to Bain. “Tell no one else about this. They have enough to worry about, and, as you said, you’re no volcanologist. You could be wrong.”
Bain nodded. “That’s why I waited to tell you.”
Bain left Brad standing on the roof. Brad felt no urgency to rejoin the others for fear his face would betray his thoughts. He stared at Mt. Erebus spewing its burden of ash and volcanic gases into the air and silently cursed it.
* * * *
Liz could tell that something was wrong with Brad. He avoided her as he reinforced the doors and windows. She wanted to talk to him, but Malosi had promised to divulge some information on the nanites. She couldn’t risk angering him. Any bit of advice might be all she needed to solve the problem. Malosi was waiting for her in the lab. His smile when she approached seemed genuine, but he had become an expert at smiling at the right time. His … schmoozing was the only word she could think of … of the survivors was an art form with him. The fact that he was responsible for their friends’ deaths seemed irrelevant to the fact that he made them happy. He cooked, he joked, and he listened sympathetically to their tales of
woe.
His interest in her was not lost on her. His eyes followed her every movement. She was used to lecherous looks from men, but his eyes betrayed more than simple lust. She was afraid of him.
“Ah, Doctor Strong,” he said. “Good to see you.”
“Doctor Malosi,” she returned, trying to keep her voice neutral. “What were you going to share with me?”
“First, an observation. Originally, our test subjects lasted 35-40 days without infusions of fresh blood. I had assumed that would apply to these creatures.”
“They look as if they’re starving,” she said.
“Quite so, but they aren’t dying. Something has changed.”
Now, he had aroused her curiosity. “What has changed?”
He smiled but said nothing, as if coaxing her to guess. She didn’t want to play games.
“I repeat, what has changed?” she said.
“Think about it for a moment. What conditions have changed since the outbreak?”
In spite of herself, she went over the options in her mind – weather, temperature, volcanic ash, volcanic gases … radiation. The thought sprang into existence like an explosion. “The radiation increase.”
He nodded. “Yes. It isn’t enough to affect humans, but the nanites are creatures of change. Even a minute increase in radiation could alter their programming, much as affects our genetic code. They have mutated. What might have been a simple pandemic, through man’s folly at attempting to eradicate it with nuclear weapons, has altered it into an ever-changing threat.”
“You seem pleased.”
He shook his head. “Not pleased, surprised.”
“This will make it more difficult to develop a cure. If …”
He stopped her and glanced around to make certain no one was listening. “There is no cure. There is, however, a way to survive. More specifically, there is a way for you to survive.”
“Why me?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I find you attractive and do not wish to see you become one of these filthy creatures. It will be a different world. I will have power. You could share in this power; have every available comfort.”
“If I go with you?”