They keep cautiously circling the strange object.
«I don't deny being deeply shocked, this... hell, I don't even know how to describe it, but whatever it is, it gives me the creeps. Good Jesus, I don't know what to think... that stuff, do you think it could be related to what happened to the plane?»
For some long moments the silence takes over, while one of the soldiers takes several pictures, framing the weird object from different angles.
«We can't rule it out, but in my heart I hope not, Matt.»
«I hope so as well: if there's anything in the world capable of doing this to a human being, the last thing I want is to have to deal with it.»
The medical officer's visor hides the look of disappointment when hearing those words. «How's the gathering of the corpses and material going?»
«There was not much to collect, most got burned to ashes with the explosion. Men are loading what is left on the CH-47.»
«Perfect.» Then, pointing to the deformed trunk: «Tell them to pack this one too, we are taking it to the base. Perhaps further deep tests will tell us what the hell it is.»
«Shouldn't we report to Bishop first?»
«Hell, Matt, fuck Bishop! This...», points at the deformity in front of them, «...is something that we have never seen, and I think that it has to do with the expert sent by the Kremlin. It could be a new biological weapon, and I don't want to miss this opportunity. Tell me, Matt, do you want to spend the rest of your career in this fucking desert, forgotten by God?»
The other swallows before answering uncertainly. «No, of course not, it's just that...»
«No excuses then, do as I told you Matt. We'll leave ASAP. Don't make me say it again.»
USA Base CNT222
«I guess your flight has been stressful, would you like some coffee? I swear it's not the usual crap.»
Macready's voice is affable, he fills a cup from a steaming thermos.
«Thank you Major, but I'd rather not. It makes me nervous. Maybe later.»
Moore feels jittery. The last events, the climate of uncertainty with the situation that she must manage, the feeling of being in an underground structure... and all within a few hours.
Macready drinks his coffee quickly, like water.
«I understand you. Don't worry, somehow we'll handle the situation. Anyway, it's a pity, believe me», while pouring himself a second cup. «Our chef, Ugo, is an Italian guy. He uses just one particular brand of coffee. If he doesn't have that, well it means no coffee, and we have to drink the crap out of the vending machines. Ugo is this way: just Italian coffee and the best Cuban cigars, Hobson's choice. He does have a weird behavior, but he's really good at his job, so I pretend to turn a blind eye on his supplies. Anyway... Still sure you won't give it a try?», Macready concludes with a wink.
Moore hints a smile.
«Well, your introduction has intrigued me somewhat, and I don't want to wrong your talented chef. I'll have just some, thank you.»
«Very wise decision, Dr. Moore, you'll tell me how you like it.»
Macready hands her a cup, then he turns his attention to a couple of soldiers, talking in a low voice.
After a few silent minutes, the door of the room of the meeting with Ivanov opens again. The face of Ironside shows up, calling for the scientist and the Major to rejoin.
Once inside, it's Ironside speaking: «We have clarified some aspects with Dr. Ivanov. We will assure him of some momentary immunity. Privilege that might evolve into a more fruitful collaboration, if he can prove that he can actually be of any help to us.»
Macready's lips contract in a face of disapproval. After a few moments of silence, Ironside keeps talking. «Before I switch to Dr. Ivanov, I just want everyone to see something.»
That said, with rapid movements Ironside flips the screen of his laptop. The notebook, previously put on standby, restores the screen after a few moments. The man flips it, to allow the other three to see the photo taken on the Boeing just before the crash. Moore adjusts her glasses, leaning forward for a better look. As she watches the screen, she instinctively brings a hand to her mouth, in a face of silent awe. A row of lines is drawn on Macready's forehead. Ivanov is the only one to stay impassive, with his sharp eyes focused on the screen, as if to pierce it through.
«Now», proceeds Ironside, «Dr. Ivanov, I ask you again what we are dealing with, for this stuff doesn't seem a virus to me, not even a modified one.»
Ivanov turns to look at everyone, choosing the next words that he is going to pronounce. «The one in the photo is obviously an infected human being. Order your men on the site to rapidly come back. You have to get them away from that zone. The entire team that you have sent there must be kept under high level lock down!»
«Calm down, Ivanov», shouts Macready. «My men wear bio hazard suits, they are impenetrable to any virus.»
«No, no, no, niet! You don't understand», Ivanov insists. «We're not dealing with a damn virus! If we let just a single cell of that thing flee the area, it would be the end. I'm not speaking about your squad, neither about this base, nor about mankind. It will take over all life forms as we know them!»
Moments of tense silence follow the last words of the Russian scientist.
It's Moore talking first. «You said that a single cell can wipe out an entire species?»
«No», he replies dryly. «I'm saying that it can wipe out all animal species. You have seen what it did to the people on that plane...»
Ivanov takes a moment before going on. His gaze seems to sink, while evoking memories from a distant past. «I trust you, Mr. Ironside, may God enlighten us all.»
Ivanov takes a deep breath, then he starts to tell his story. «It all began in the spring of 1983. At that time I was involved in research and development of biological weapons. I was the director of a secret lab in Antarctica, a structure buried in the ice, disguised as a common meteorological research station. One of our helicopters, during a reconnaissance flight, located a vehicle. It was half-buried in snow. We found a woman inside. She was American and had died by freezing during the previous winter. On her womb she was clinging a small booklet. A Norwegian maintenance booklet of the vehicle she was moving in. She had probably found it right there in the vehicle. She had written something in the free space in the borders of the pages. Her story was so implausible that we initially attributed all to the hallucinations due to her freezing to death.»
«Wait», says Macready. «You said that the woman was American, but the vehicle you found was Norwegian?»
«Yes, it came from a Norwegian research outpost located about eighty kilometers from our base. The woman had tried to reach us, but she was lost and ran out of fuel about half way. Having no way to communicate with the outside world, her fate was sealed.»
«Have you found a document, a badge, or anything useful to identify her?», asks Ironside.
«No, she had no documents with her. We knew her name because she herself had written it in the pages of the maintenance booklet. Later, when we inspected the Norwegian outpost, or at least what was left of it, we couldn't find much material to let us confirm her last words. For reasons that you will soon understand, I decided to hide everything that could be tied to the story of the woman. We got rid of any additional evidence, although not much was left anyway.»
Macready's gaze hardens, hearing his last words. His speech is cold and sharp as he turns to the Russian. «In 1982 strange disappearances occurred in Antarctica. Two entire outposts, one Norwegian and one American, got destroyed in a matter of days, perhaps even hours. The Antarctic winter did not allow sending rescue teams until next spring. When they got there, there was nothing left, absolutely nothing. Those people disappeared without leaving a trace, they couldn't even find a corpse. The case stirred a sensation at that time.»
«One moment, Major», intervenes Ironside, noticing how upset the military is. «Let's focus on Dr. Ivanov's report. Then, to the Russian: «Please, go on with what that woman had writte
n.»
«Like I said, her story was incredible. She was an American paleontologist, gone to Antarctica with a Norwegian expedition that had come across something really exceptional.»
At this point Ivanov appears reluctant to go on, for a few seconds the Russian appears torn between choosing whether to reveal it all, freeing himself from a heavy weight, or keeping some information secret.
Ironside is aware of the dilemma in the mind of the scientist. His voice is calm and somehow reassuring, as he urges him to continue. «I understand your uncertainty, Dr. Ivanov, and your position is undoubtedly inconvenient. I ask you again to trust me, not only as a representative of the Government of the United States of America, but as a man. I don't know what you have seen or experienced, but your eyes tell us all how it has been terrible for you. Nobody in the world has the power to change the past, but perhaps, here in this room, we have the opportunity to work to shape a better future...»
An awkward silence follows his last words. Moore leans forward on the table, resting almost involuntarily her hand on that of Ivanov. The contact has the effect of bringing the Russian back to the present.
«What have you found that is so important?», she asks.
Ivanov withdraws his hand, slowly enough not to appear rude, then he swallows. «Okay», he exclaims. «According to the report of the paleontologist, the Norwegian research team had found a wrecked ship... and a creature.»
All are visibly surprised hearing the affirmation of Ivanov.
«What kind of creature?», Moore urges him.
The Russian keeps telling his story. His eyes show the tension caused by recalling those far events. «According to the woman, the wreck was an extraterrestrial aircraft, buried in a layer of ice that the Norwegian scientists had examined. Their analysis reported that it was very old, about a hundred thousand years. The ship was almost intact and the woman believed that one of the occupants had managed to go outside after the crash, only to end up frozen a few tens of meters away. Our further research in Antarctica led us to believe that the events occurred probably differently, but this is something outside our current problem. We will discuss it in due course, and when my... guarantees will be on paper. In short, the Norwegians took the creature inside their outpost with the intention of studying it. For unspecified reasons it returned to life, or rather, its metabolism – which until then had regressed to a latent state to allow it to survive in a kind of lethargy – was reactivated. It spread through the entire crew and killed all the expedition members within hours. Unfortunately, in the report of the woman there was no indication or coordinates of the wreck. The polar winter and the many storms have certainly buried the excavation. After all, the paleontologist had hinted that it was at a certain depth. In the days after the discovery of the unfortunate woman we proceeded to the exploration of the Norwegian camp, but we couldn't find traces of their crew, except for the corpse of a man who had committed suicide. In an act of desperation he had cut his wrists and throat with a razor. We could find just a few documents. Everything was destroyed, with clear signs of struggle and collective hysteria.
Fires and devastation made it impossible to find more items, not in the short time available to us before the arrival of their rescue team. My team found an analogous scenario when we reached the American camp. But... in that case the destruction was even deeper.»
«Wait», Macready interrupts him again. «Why did you go out to the American camp?»
«Because during the winter, one of our operators caught a message from that outpost. The quality was poor, but the voice seemed agitated, and it was clearly an SOS. The adverse conditions prevented us from intervening until the following spring. As I was saying, we found the outpost completely destroyed, much worse than the Norwegian one. However, we found two bodies. Two men frozen and half-buried in the snow. We freed them from the ice, to take them with us to our base. They were set in special isolation chambers, waiting for them to defrost, so we could proceed with the autopsies.»
«Did you find any information about the names of these men, Dr. Ivanov?», Macready's voice is very sharp, while his icy eyes seem to pierce the Russian on the spot.
«Unfortunately, no. We didn't find any document on them, I can only make a brief description, according to what I remember. It's been too many years...»
«I would be grateful», Macready's answer.
«One of the men was black, he was of considerable height and muscular build, an athletic body. His skull was smooth and completely bald. I remember he was still cradling a flamethrower when we found him. He was pointing it at the man in front of him. The other was a white man, long bearded and long haired. His eyes were clear, more or less like yours, Major. He was clinging to a bottle of liquor, don't ask me the brand, and he was aiming a gun at the other man.»
Ironside notices a strange light in the look of Macready and notices his hands clenched into fists, the knuckles whitened with tension. «Let me understand», he exclaims. «Were they threatening each other?»
«Not really, I'd rather say that they were ready for any eventuality. It may seem a bizarre behavior, but believe me, they had good reasons to act that way.»
«What about the creature?», intervenes Dr. Moore, who is aware of the growing tension in the attitude of Major Macready.
A drop of sweat pearls the temple of Ivanov, who seems unable to find the words to reply. «In the snow cat where we found the paleontologist, there was a capsule hidden next to the seat, which probably came from the Norwegian site. I think that the woman was unaware of it, otherwise she would have destroyed it. I guess that it was put there by another member of the Norwegian expedition, probably infected. In the following years I dedicated my research to unlock the secrets of that organism. You can't have the slightest idea about what I've seen in all that time. You are surprised and disgusted by that picture, but let me be very frank, you still haven't seen anything yet, and thank God for this, because you wouldn't sleep anymore.
Those who created this organism were – and perhaps still are – geniuses. A superhuman intelligence whose boundaries fade to the most pure madness.»
«Dr. Ivanov», Dr. Moore is speaking, always more interested in the discourse. «Exactly... what are we dealing with?"
Ivanov lets out a bitter smile. «Believe me, perhaps no one will ever know for sure. It's a metamorphic entity. It has the uncanny ability to assimilate any living being, mastering its DNA, and reproducing each cell and biological structure to perfection. In my laboratories I have conducted dozens of experiments and, as because of accidents that have occurred against our will, we could see how this organism is able to assimilate and perfectly replicate complex animals too. I mean very complex...»
Ivanov awaits, leaving the other three enough time to get to the same conclusion.
It's Moore who gives voice to their thoughts: «Do you mean that this creature could replicate a person?»
«You're perceptive, doctor, but don't use the conditional. Unfortunately I've seen with my very eyes that that thing is quite capable of replicating a human being to perfection.»
«I find it hard to buy all this, Dr. Ivanov», says Ironside with a disappointed face. «But at this point I'm curious. Were you ever able to establish some sort of communication with this... creature?»
«No. There is no way to communicate with it. Not for our species. It hides, and it does it so well that – believe me – we aren't even sure if the imitations play a perfect performance, or rather aren't even aware of being just imitations.»
«But how is that possible?», asks Moore, more and more fascinated.
«Dr. Moore, think about it in those terms: you, your awareness, your actions, are mostly dictated by your own unconscious. Even when you are sure that your choice is based on what your own "I" believes, the thought that led you to that choice comes from deep inside your being. An underground world, where none of us is as we seem on the outside. Most people, in their unconscious are like children who constantly scream "m
e, me, me." Others are old, cynical and disillusioned. Still others are like aliens, whose behavior is often incomprehensible to most. And sometimes... sometimes real monstrosities pop out: disturbed and perverted background consciousnesses. Read some report about serial killers investigations and you'll have an idea. Now, try to imagine that your unconscious was replaced with an intelligent entity, ancient and evolved, able to dispose of your own memories... Would you be able to notice it? I tell you: no. You would feel strange, maybe slightly disoriented, perhaps you would have some memory lapse that you would attribute to a momentary sickness or stress. Shortly, something would distract you, and you would end up not thinking about it that much, going ahead with your life.»
«Dr. Ivanov», intervenes Ironside. «How much time would it take to complete the replacement process?»
«I see you are using the conditional, which means you don't believe, partly or totally, what I've told you so far.»
Dr. Moore starts to say something, but Ivanov stops her with a hand gesture. «Let me go on, please. After all it's a very good question. The dynamic of the assimilation depends on the size of the organism victim compared to the aggressor's. As I just said, only one cell would be enough to take full control of a body as big as a sperm whale. However, if the assimilation begins with a small cell cluster it takes time to overtake the whole body. Conversely, if the two masses are more or less equal – and we talk about multi-cellular organisms, such as a cat or a dog for example – the assimilation is often violent and brutal, and it's consumed within minutes. The organism is a hunter, just as a lion, he chooses the isolated victims, since during the assimilation it's easily identifiable, and therefore vulnerable.»
«I understand, but does this creature have its own form? For example, what can you tell us about its cellular structure? », again the woman.
Cellular Activity- The Djinn Page 10