Extinction Countdown (Ancient Origins Series Book 2)

by James D. Prescott

  The aide announced them to the room. “Geophysicist Dr. Greer and geneticist Dr. Ward are here on behalf of the mission sent to study the extraterrestrial craft in the Gulf of Mexico.”

  President Alexander Taylor came over and shook their hands, thanking them for all they had done. He was a tall, lean man with a strong grip and a piercing gaze, an intensity that was muted by the sad, almost melancholic quality in the man’s stare. That along with his lanky build often elicited comparisons to Abraham Lincoln, a resemblance that had served him well during his election.

  The room grew still as the chief of staff handed the president a thick report.

  “I’ve gone through what you wrote,” President Taylor told them. “I also spent some time going through the video you folks recorded through the fancy glasses you were wearing. It was fascinating stuff and yet I couldn’t help feeling there were a number of items missing from this report, blanks I’m hoping the two of you might be able to fill in for us.”

  “We’ll do our best, Mr. President,” Mia offered with humility.

  Jack couldn’t help but wonder what they might ask that the Senate committee had not already.

  “You see,” Vice-President Millard said, gently easing himself into the conversation, “we’ve come into possession of certain information that we believe poses a grave threat to the security of our nation as well as the world at large. It’s still being analyzed by experts, mind you…”

  “John, stop beating around the bush,” the president scolded him. “Just show them the pictures, will you?”

  Vice-President Millard hesitated before leafing through a stack of folders, removing copies of an eight-by-ten glossy photograph and handing one to both Mia and Jack.

  They stared at it for several minutes before the subject of the image came into sharp focus. The image was of an alien ship, perhaps identical to the one they had found beneath the Gulf. But this one wasn’t underwater, it was out in space—hell, it appeared to be somewhere in our solar system.

  “Where was this taken?” Jack asked, trying not to let on that his pulse had just kicked a few notches higher.

  A short Native woman in a red pantsuit stepped forward. “If you’ll allow me, Mr. President. I’m Dr. Diane Littlefield, administrator at NASA. The image was taken five days ago by Voyager One. At this very moment, a handful of astronomers are tracking the object. Judging by its current speed, distance and trajectory, the object will intersect with Earth in fourteen days, six hours and seven minutes. Give or take.”

  “So you can understand the pickle we’re in,” the president said, deep lines forming in his forehead. “We need to know if whoever sent this thing means to wipe humanity off the face of the earth like they did the dinosaurs.”

  It sounded like a logical question and Jack suddenly felt every eyeball in the room turn to him. He swallowed hard, his throat making an audible clicking sound. He felt Mia’s hand on his back, melting away at least some of the tension. “I mean, you’re asking me to know the mind of an alien species. Seems like a tall order given that most of the time, we have no idea what the North Koreans or the Iranians are thinking.”

  Mia grinned weakly. “If you’re asking us whether or not these beings are friendly, I’m not sure we can know that. At least not yet. The craft Jack and his team found buried was sixty-five million years old. If it wasn’t for that ship impacting the earth, then none of us would be here today. And yet, when it struck, I’m sure for the dinosaurs it meant they were about to have a very bad day.”

  “What Mia—err, Dr. Ward—is trying to say,” Jack started to explain, “is that terms such as ‘good’ or ‘bad’ depend on which end of the barrel you’re staring down.”

  Secretary of State Chase roared from across the room, “Well, it just so happens that barrel is pointed straight at us. Mr. President, I urge you not to wait a moment longer. Unleash the full strength of our nuclear arsenal and vaporize this thing before it hits us.”

  The room erupted into a racket of differing opinions.

  Secretary of Defense Myers spoke next. “Mr. President, the guidance systems on our nuclear weapons are all aimed at targets on earth. Those fired against the alien craft would first have to be reprogrammed and then attached to Atlas rockets if they were to have any chance of reaching the target. But there’s a larger issue to consider. If these alien beings do come in peace and we destroy them, I think it’s safe to say that could be the start of an inter-planetary war we could never hope to win.”

  Jack shook his head. “Frankly, Mr. President, I’m not even sure our weapons could put more than a dent in that ship.”

  “He may be right,” the NASA director said. “I’ve gone through the report as well and the hull of the craft we studied was a largely unknown composite of extraordinary strength.”

  The president’s normally stoic features betrayed the raw emotion roiling beneath the surface. “I got thirty percent of the armed forces on sick leave with God knows what. I got the Russians and the Chinese convinced we faked the ship’s destruction. At this very moment, they’re poking around our electronic infrastructure looking for secrets we don’t have. Not to mention Cuba and those damned islands they keep building. On top of everything else, the country’s scared as hell and on the verge of tearing itself apart. Just imagine how they’ll react when news gets out they have two weeks before the world’s reduced to a pile of ash. If what you found in the Gulf is any indication, if these aliens mean to end the human race, I’m afraid to admit we don’t have a shot in hell of stopping them. That’s why I’ve secretly signed a directive ordering vital elements of our government deep underground. I’ve also recommissioned every Cold War bunker at our disposal. If the worst happens, at least some of us will remain to carry on.”

  Many in the room, including Jack and Mia, were speechless. Either attempt to blow it up before it hit or wait out the devastation. Which of the two was the worst option? That was what it seemed to be coming down to.

  “Mr. President,” Jack said. “You asked for our opinions on whether these aliens mean to do us harm, and I don’t have any proof one way or another just yet, but my gut is telling me they don’t.”

  The audible sound of scoffs burned Jack’s ears.

  “With all due respect, Dr. Greer,” Vice-President Millard barked, “we can’t very well base the future of the human race on your gut feeling.” His gaze turned to Mia. “Dr. Ward, I understand you’ve been working on the genetic side of this. For goodness’ sake, tell us you have something, anything more useful than your gut to draw on.”

  Jack felt himself shrink down to the size of a pea. He’d had strips torn off him by men far meaner than Vice-President Millard, but he knew his only recourse was to pull his shoulders back and stand up straight. This wasn’t personal. It was about survival.

  Mia unclasped her hands. “If I’m going to be frank, I wish we had more time. This is at once the most momentous period in the history of the human race and also the most perilous. The truth is, we learned a lot about the Atean race. Whether we like it or not, they are our creators. At the very least, they helped to set the circumstances in motion in which the human race evolved. We’ve also learned that human and alien DNA is remarkably similar. And locked within that DNA may very well lie the explanation for why this is happening and, if we’re lucky, how to stop it.

  “I know in many ways hearing this goes against everything we’ve been taught in our schools and churches about who we are and how we came to be. But if the data is accurate and we are their creation, I find it hard to believe they would slaughter us without giving it a second thought. My belief that their intentions are honorable is only bolstered by the fact that we’ve only ever found a single ship.”

  “Well, Doctor, that isn’t entirely true,” Secretary of Defense Myers offered.

  Mia stopped dead. “Excuse me?”

  “Our satellites picked up another blast wave. This one was much smaller and hasn’t triggered since then. Nevertheless, we did
manage to narrow down the source of the blast to within a five-mile area.”

  “Another ship?” Jack stammered, his mouth ajar.

  “We’re not sure what it is,” the NASA administrator said, clearly trying to get Myers off the hook for attempting to explain subjects beyond his purview. “The intensity and quality of the signal is different. It’s denser and more refined. But the source has been traced to nearly two miles beneath the Greenland ice sheet.”

  “How long have you known?” Mia asked, a pit of despair growing ever deeper within her. She had hoped with the ship and its debilitating blast wave now gone, she might have a shot at finding a workable cure. With a two-week deadline before possible Armageddon and the appearance of a new ship, it was all starting to seem rather hopeless.

  “Five days,” Myers explained. “Which is why we immediately secured the area and dispatched a group of engineers to set up an arctic habitat and drill down through the ice. It’s called Northern Star Arctic Research Station. Of course, Greenland isn’t U.S. soil and so the Danish government was eager to supply scientists and military personnel to assist in the excavation.”

  “The engineers are nearly done,” the president said. “Which is the final reason we brought you here. We’d like you to join them. You folks are the only ones with any first-hand experience and experience is the one thing that’s in short supply.”

  The vice-president crossed his arms and leaned forward. “Admiral Stark will be overseeing the mission.”

  “Admiral,” Jack said, surprised. “I thought he was a rear admiral?”

  “Not anymore,” Myers replied.

  The aide reappeared, ready to lead Jack and Mia back to the limo.

  The president shook their hands once again. “Remember, everything discussed here today is top-secret. Head back to your people and get yourselves ready. You leave for Greenland in twenty-four hours.”

  Chapter 3

  Mia spent the majority of the trip back to Joint Base Andrews staring out the rain-spattered window. Flashing blue and red specks of light cast off from the government SUVs escorting them bounced around the limo’s interior. They seemed to be struggling for her attention, like so much else at the moment. She glanced over at Jack, who had balled up his nice suit jacket and tucked it behind his head as a makeshift pillow. His chest rose and fell in a steady, serene rhythm. A part of her hated him for taking it all in stride.

  Looking back, the meeting with the president had been a nerve-racking experience. Neither she nor Jack had expected to be put on the spot like that, expected to know with certainty whether the Ateans—she still had trouble accepting they’d been given a name—were friend or foe. It had made Mia feel naked and stupid for not having a better answer. And yet the longer she considered the president’s question, the more she realized how ludicrous a thing it was to ask of them. Whatever these ancient beings had had in mind when they gave the planet a black eye all those millions of years ago could never be known, not with any degree of certainty at least. Besides, human beings, in any recognizable form, would not emerge for another sixty-three million years. Thus, attempting to categorize this alien race as either friend or foe of humanity was, for the time being, pointless.

  Distant as they might seem, Mia felt a growing certainty the answers they sought were locked within the Salzburg chromatid. She recoiled, her hot breath fogging the car window. The mere thought of the disorder brought on fresh waves of guilt. Here she was, heading to Greenland in twenty-three hours, and yet there was still so much to be done to help reverse the crippling illness that had befallen the human race. In Greenland lay perhaps nothing but a wild and useless chase across a frozen landscape.

  Jack would be there. That was good. She watched as he shifted, pushing himself deeper into the corner between the seat and the door. And what if the answers she sought lay locked somewhere beneath all that ice, just waiting to be discovered while she was off on a quixotic quest halfway around the world?

  A hand touched her arm.

  “Hey, go easy on yourself,” Jack said, peering out at her from one tired eye. “I see threads of smoke coming out of your ears.”

  Mia grinned. “A woman’s work is never done.”

  “Yeah, well, you won’t be much good to the team if you’re burned out.” He raked a hand through his messy hair and fixed her with a quizzical stare. “Knowing you, you’ve been replaying our conversation with the president and his cabinet, wondering how we did, whether we managed to convince him it was better to hold off on those nukes until we got a better handle on what was going on.”

  She ignored his taunt. “I don’t think the president is dumb enough to think sending nukes into space will accomplish much more than irradiating the solar system. He struck me as a thoughtful and intelligent man.”

  Jack sneered. “Those are the ones you gotta worry about.”

  “His advisors, on the other hand, struck me as a little nuke-happy.”

  “Most of them,” Jack replied. “Though I can’t say I totally blame them. I mean, we saw first-hand what happened the last time one of those things paid us a visit. For all we know, they’ve come to finish what they started.”

  “Or to correct their mistake.”

  Jack’s eyebrows rose. “That could be. Humans are pretty messed up. Hard to imagine anyone drawing up a list of our accomplishments and seeing any reason to keep us around.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Mia replied, marveling at Jack’s cynicism. “Maybe they’ve come back to fix our genetic flaw.”

  His features dropped. “Which one? You mean the warrior gene?”

  She nodded, hopeful.

  “They don’t exactly strike me as the tinkering type. Not after they annihilated seventy-five percent of life on Earth for the sole purpose of repopulating in their own image. Besides, what took them so long? That’s a serious case of galactic procrastination.”

  Mia grinned. “But what if you’re right?” she said, feeling the words plop out of her mouth like heavy lead ingots. “What if all we have left is two weeks and nothing we do will change that?”

  Jack shook his head and crinkled his brow. “You heard the president say he intended to move the government and key personnel underground. The human race is resilient. With a lot of luck, we might just be able to weather the impact and save enough of us to carry on.”

  “That’s not what I meant. Not really, at least. Isn’t there anyone you’d prefer to spend that time with—friends, family?”

  She saw she was losing him. “I haven’t got family, not anymore.”

  “Your parents are dead?”

  Jack seemed to think this over for a moment before nodding. “The only people I really care about are in this limo and back at Andrews.”

  Mia felt his sadness touch her heart and squeezed his hand. She hadn’t been expecting him to say that, certainly hadn’t been fishing for it either. Back on the USS Grapple, she had heard Gabby mention Jack’s biological father once in passing and the emotional chasm that lay between them. She was struck that even with an approaching Armageddon, Jack still wasn’t interested in healing old wounds.

  “What do you think we’ll find in Greenland?” she asked.

  Jack pulled his hand away and began rubbing circles with his thumb and index finger. His voice dropped into a low baritone. “Salvation.”

  •••

  Joint Base Andrews was the love child of Andrews Air Force Base and the Naval Air Facility Washington. After passing through several checkpoints, the convoy arrived before hangar five. The incessant rain had finally let up and Jack and Mia made their way toward the long vertical slit between the massive doors. Inside sat Air Force One and her twin sister, arranged side by side. Few knew that more than a single plane was responsible for ferrying the president around the world. The duplicate often acted as a decoy and would fly out ahead of the commander-in-chief in order to ensure the skies were indeed as friendly as they seemed.

  To the left of the president’s gleami
ng airplanes was a two-story structure that ran the length of the hangar. A long row of lit windows disappeared into infinity. Groups of Air Force mechanics and other personnel moved throughout the space. They entered the mechanic’s shop to find Anna standing before a mirror.

  Jack felt his jaw grow slack. As promised, those geniuses from Boston Dynamics along with scientists from DARPA had given her a tremendous gift. Gone were the variable-drive wheels, left behind as they had abandoned ship. In their place was a sleek pair of metallic, multi-jointed legs. Anna’s torso was also new, silver chrome plating with the added bonus of a distinctly feminine shape. The narrow waist was a nice touch, Jack thought, along with the arms and hands which had been covered with a shiny grey aluminum alloy. The only part that remained unchanged was Anna’s head and the distinctly human features projected against the back of her glass faceplate.

  Jack heard the muted sound of clicking as Anna blinked. “Oh, tell me you’re not taking selfies,” he said, stifling a burst of laughter.

  Anna rotated at the waist, her legs following suit. Suddenly a beaming smile filled her face. She lifted one of her shimmering arms in greeting. “Dr. Greer, Dr. Ward, welcome back. I trust your visit with President Taylor was productive.” She walked toward them without a hint of awkwardness.

  “It’s like you’ve had legs your entire life,” Mia said, impressed.

  “I have been practicing,” Anna confided. “Dr. Greer, do you also find stairs challenging?”

  Jack frowned. “Do I look that out of shape?”

  “On the contrary,” she replied. “I meant for a man of your age.”

  Anna still couldn’t tell when she was inserting one of her new metallic feet into her digital mouth.