‘We didn’t come here for a lecture,’ one of the men said in a dismissive tone that suggested he felt his time was being wasted. ‘You’ve got two minutes.’
Garrett reeled momentarily, but he forced himself to smile at the man through his teeth. ‘Unless you have a degree in biogenetics, you won’t know what hit you.’
‘One minute fifty,’ the man replied without interest.
‘Let him speak,’ Kruger chided his companion gently. ‘Rhys, if you will?’
Garrett turned to the man trussed up in the chair beside him.
‘This is Professor Martin Beauchamp, a leading expert in the field of palaeontology,’ he introduced his victim. ‘Believe it or not, this man holds the key to the survival of the human species.’
Garrett was met with silence this time, but an expectant silence that urged him on. He reached down and pulled the gag from Beauchamp’s mouth as he went on.
‘Professor Beauchamp here would like to share with you a discovery that was made by Doctor Aubrey Channing on a hillside in Montana some decades ago, when Martin was his undergraduate student.’ Beauchamp looked up at the men surrounding him, his eyes bleary and his shoulders slumped. ‘Just tell them what you told me.’
Beauchamp worked his mouth as though getting up the strength to speak, and then he turned his head slightly and spat a globule of phlegm onto Garrett’s polished shoes. Garrett looked down at the mess as he heard a ripple of muffled laughter from the powerful men before him.
Mastering his dignity, he turned to his guards. Without a word they stalked toward Beauchamp and grabbed his arms, then lifted him almost off the ground and carried him toward the helipad outside. Garrett ignored them as he turned to the men of Majestic Twelve.
‘Professor Beauchamp is the former undergraduate of a scientist who worked in Montana,’ he said. ‘That scientist received a letter in 2002. I believe that you know about that letter and intervened in the excavation performed by Aubrey Channing.’
The eyes of several of the men raised up to his at that point, their interest piqued.
‘Go on,’ said their gaunt leader.
‘Channing discovered the remains of a species of dinosaur in the rocks of Montana’s badlands, something that has rarely been seen before: a dinosaur that was alive after the asteroid impact that supposedly sent them extinct.’ Garrett said. ‘Channing has never been seen again since and nor have the remains that he found. I contend that you intervened, and had them taken from him. Would that be correct?’
Kruger raised his chin as he peered at Garrett.
‘I cannot confirm nor deny that.’
Garrett smiled. ‘I understand that you do not wish to implicate yourselves without good reason. That’s why I brought Beauchamp along with me, to redress the balance.’
Outside the helicopter lifted off the helipad and turned away from the suite, climbing high into the hard blue sky as Garrett strolled across to the balcony doors and watched it fly away as he spoke. ‘It’s a remarkable thing, a temperature inversion. It’s what creates mirages in the desert and on roads, bending the light so that the impossible seems to occur and objects float in the distance above the horizon, or ghostly lakes shimmer in the desert. It’s all about bending light, and what few people know is that it can also occur somewhat in reverse: that is, something that should be visible is not under certain conditions, which are most often experienced when air is being rapidly heated.’
Garrett watched as the helicopter performed a wide circular flight, swinging back in toward the platform once more, and through the faint haze they all saw something tumble from inside the helicopter and fall rapidly toward the ocean a thousand feet below. Garrett saw a tiny white splash in the ocean a mile away as the object plummeted at lethal speed into the water. The pilot skillfully brought the helicopter in to land outside and Garrett’s guards climbed out. The seats behind them were empty, Beauchamp no longer aboard. Garrett turned to his guests.
‘Beauchamp had seen your faces and connected them to me, so naturally he could not be allowed to live. Now, we are even.’
Kruger continued to peer at Garrett, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. ‘What is is that you want, Garrett?’
Garrett walked back to face them more closely, in control of the situation once again.
‘I have an island,’ he said simply, ‘upon which I have built a test facility that is currently involved in developing the genetic capability to influence the evolution of any species on our planet, whether extant or extinct. I have used it to explore species that have not walked this earth for millions of years.’
One of the oldest men before him, who stood with one hand resting on a glossy black cane, squinted as though confused.
‘You’re trying to tell us that you’ve built Jurassic Park?’
‘No,’ Garrett smiled, ‘although to do so would technically not now be beyond our capabilities. What I have built is a means to study the fundamental building blocks of DNA and one of the discoveries that I have made is that all life on earth, literally every single species in existence and that has ever lived, all shares one common gene, a piece of DNA that has no business being there and has defied explanation ever since it was discovered.’
‘And?’ another of the men challenged. ‘Stop pulling the chain and get to the action.’
Garrett grinned.
‘Why rush the finale?’ he asked. ‘I take it that you have heard of the experiment that led to the term “behavioral sink”?’
Met with silent stares, Garrett elaborated. ‘The experiments were conducted in Rockville, Maryland from 1947 until 1995 using mice and rats. They were placed in controlled environments with readily available access to food and water, and protection from predators: essentially, rat heaven. Their numbers were controlled and their behavior measured and recorded. The interesting things started to happen when the number of creatures in any one closed–environment was increased. To cut a long story short, they devolved in nature and swiftly became extinct, having created the “behavioral sink”. Many believe that this process is ongoing in society today.’
‘That’s not telling us anything that we don’t already know,’ said another man.
‘True,’ Garrett countered, ‘but did you know that as with all other things in nature there is a natural counter–balance, an automatic response triggered by environmental factors that is designed specifically to cull or even destroy a population of any one species from within without any external influence whatsoever?’
None of the men moved now, all silently awaiting Garrett.
‘That’s the gene that we discovered,’ he said finally. ‘Within our bodies, within every living thing on earth, there is a gene specifically designed to trigger an auto–destruct mechanism within us.’
Garrett moved to where Beauchamp had once sat, and patted the chair.
‘That mechanism has been triggered several times in the past, usually once every thirty or so million years, and has been responsible for the greatest extinction events in history, those that have eradicated ninety per cent of all life on earth in one fell swoop.’
Kruger frowned. ‘That’s not possible. Viruses are typically species specific, and cannot make the leap easily from one to another.’
‘Correct,’ Garrett agreed, ‘but that ignores some of our most recent discoveries, including the revelation that DNA can communicate in a telepathic sense.’
‘Say that again,’ one of Majestic Twelve uttered, his face stony with disbelief.
‘Intact, double–stranded DNA can recognize similarities in other strands of DNA from a distance,’ Garrett repeated. ‘The recognition of similar sequences in DNA’s chemical sub–units occurs in a way unrecognized by science until now. There’s no known reason why the DNA is able to combine this way, and from a current theoretical standpoint this feat should be chemically impossible, and yet it happens. The research was recently published in the ACS Journal of Physical Chemistry. It’s not telepathy of course, that’s just th
e word the scientists involved in the research gave to the phenomena, but I’ve recreated the event in my laboratories.’
‘To what end?’ asked another of the cabal, a man named Felix.
‘Eight percent of our genome is made up of retrovirus DNA,’ Garrett explained. ‘These are viruses that have been passed down for so long that most have mutated and are held powerless in your system. But some retroviruses can take on new life, such as in people with HIV and several viruses that trigger cancer. When we isolated the DNA of both HIV patients and healthy people, we found a virus they called K111, sometimes intact and sometimes not. It is also found in the genome of chimpanzees, so the virus would have infected our ancestors before humans split off over 6 million years ago. When people are infected with HIV the ancient K111 virus becomes activated.’
‘So?’ Kruger asked. ‘Are you saying you’re able to cure people of HIV?’
‘No,’ Garrett replied, ‘I’m able to cure people of something much more ancient and far more deadly. Our DNA contains genes that we share with every other living thing on earth, so ancient that they cannot have evolved here.’
‘Alien DNA,’ Felix said. ‘You’re going to tell us that we were seeded here by little green men.’
‘No,’ Garrett replied, ‘although that technically is not impossible. Life exists between the stars as chemicals in giant molecular clouds that collapse with gravity and form new stellar systems pre–loaded with the ingredients for life. That foundation of chemical life means that we all share some level of genetic material, no matter how small, with all other life in the universe. When populations become too dense, that combines with DNA’s ability to recombine at a distance to produce a virus so incredibly dangerous that it can literally wipe life from the face of our planet.’
Garrett sat in a chair and folded his hands calmly in his lap.
‘The last time it happened, it was wiping the dinosaurs from the face of the earth both before and after the asteroid that hit the planet sixty five million years ago. I have successfully extracted that virus from the living bones of a dinosaur, and contained it at my facility. Nature has evolved a kill–switch, gentlemen,’ he said, ‘an extinction code, and I know how to control it.’
‘The living bones of a dinosaur?’ Hampton gasped, to a nod from Garrett.
Kruger peered at Garrett suspiciously. ‘Prove it.’
Garrett grinned. ‘I already have,’ he replied. ‘It’s been released into the wild.’
***
XVI
Parc National Andasibe Mantadia,
Madagascar
‘Don’t go in there.’
The air was thick with moisture, so dense that Michael Arando could see it hanging in before him like mist and curling around thick vines and trunks in diaphanous swirls. The tropical forest was like a wet oven, Michael’s skin slick with sweat that simply would not evaporate and the heat gripping his body and making even the slightest movement seem a gargantuan task.
His aide, a local Madagascan, remained beside him but was clearly spooked by what lay ahead.
‘Relax, Lucien,’ Michael soothed. ‘This won’t take long.’
In truth, it already had taken two days and drained them both of their energy. The Parc National Andasibe Mantadia was some twelve miles north of Andasibe and had been created primarily to protect the indri, also known as the babakoto. A primate, the black and white ruffed lemurs were unique to the island and had been a subject of Michael’s studies since he had moved here four years previously. What he had found, along with his discoveries around the rest of the world, had profoundly changed him as a man and as a human being.
‘Come on,’ he urged Lucien as he moved off through the forest. ‘We’ve come this far.’
Michael led the way, Lucien trudging wearily along behind him as the vast tropical forest swallowed them whole. The cooler breezes that had chased them daily from the east coast disappeared entirely, and the deep silence of the rain forest consumed the world around them.
Michael had spent enough time in such forests to know that the wildlife inhabiting them would often fall silent as humans passed through. Long and likely weary experience had taught them that mankind was a dangerous foe, willing and able to hunt any of the creatures of the forest with near impunity. However, despite that knowledge the silence that confronted him now was unearthly, deep, bottomless it seemed. The only sound was the chorus of water droplets falling from the immense heights of the canopy far above, where weak sunlight filtered down in glowing shafts, too broken to ever hope to reach the forest floor.
Michael followed a path that was far from the tourist tracks of Circuit Rianasoa and Tsakoka, the trail littered with leeches and entombed in thick vines, creepers and dense foliage that clogged the untrodden forest. They passed a waterfall that thundered down from overhanging cliffs into a limpid pool of green water, and crossed a narrow trail on a hillside that offered a tremendous view to the east, dense forest cloaking the hills and swathed in veils of mist. To get this far out into the rain forest had required permits from the MNP office in Reserve Speciale d’Analamazaotra, and Lucien’s skills had been hired by Michael there too, for he alone had seen what was up here and reported it just three days before.
Michael pulled a machete from his rucksack and slashed his way off the animal trail they had been following, hoping to make his way onto higher ground, when he caught the first scent of it.
The heady aroma of the rain forest was often deadened by the sheer weight of moisture in the air, but some scents it seemed could penetrate anything. Especially the scent of death.
Michael halted, and beside him Lucien sniffed the air and nodded to himself, a sombre expression on his features. His dark Malagese eyes looked into Michael’s but he said nothing, for there was no more for him to say. Michael felt a little chill ripple up his spine despite the cloying heat, but he forged ahead anyway and followed the scent through the forest.
It rapidly became thicker as they moved, seemed to cling to the trees and to the foliage, and Michael swatted at a cloud of tiny insects buzzing in the hot air as he pushed his way between giant ferns and a thick waft of putrid air stained his throat and caused him to gag reflexively.
Michael coughed and his eyes filled with water as he struggled to control his stomach as it turned over inside him. The unbearable stench was heavier and more oppressive even than the tropical heat, thick with loathing and the choking odor of rotting flesh and decaying skin and fur.
The carcass was perhaps ten feet from him, sprawled across the forest floor and seemingly alive with a seething mass of maggots that swarmed through the interior of the corpse in sufficient numbers that areas of unbroken skin rippled and limbs rolled lethargically this way and that.
‘How long?’ he uttered to Lucien, his voice thick with nausea.
Lucien, still anxious but impervious it seemed to the stench, shrugged. ‘A day, perhaps two. They do not remain long here for they are consumed swiftly.’
Lucien’s voice was heavily accented but his English was exemplary, years of guiding tourists through the forests rewarding him with perfect fluency. But that was all over now. There hadn’t been a tour brought up into the mountains since he had warned the government about what was happening here.
Michael had been informed the very next day.
‘Stay back,’ Michael said.
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and tied it around his mouth and nose to protect him as he edged forward toward the remains. For the most part, they had been eviscerated, entirely cleaned out not by the ferocious jaws of some hellish predator but by the living jungle itself. The sheer weight of diversity in the rain forest meant that the remains of creatures that had died here survived only days before they were completely absorbed once again by their surroundings. Michael had written an entire thesis on this single fact: that the very living jungle around him was entirely comprised of the remains of living things, created to be finally absorbed once again to become a part of
some new species of animal or plant. Nature’s perfect recycling machine was a marvel to him, an icon to natural selection and the harmony of living species, but this was different.
He saw the second corpse a moment later, further ahead in the forest.
‘There are more,’ Lucien offered, staying back, ‘many, many more.’
Michael edged past the remains on the forest floor, the fur a ruffled black and white where the lemur had fallen and died. Its skull looked up at him, mouth agape and swarming with insects, its eyes sunken black orbs staring accusingly into his.
Michael pushed on into the forest, and as he saw one corpse so he saw another, and another, and another still. His pace slowed, the air thick and black with insects feasting on the gruesome banquet that nature had provided, and his brain slowly fell almost silent as he witnessed the scale of the catastrophe.
Michael knew that such events occurred occasionally in nature but that this was something new. Within five hundred years of human arriving on Madagascar some two thousand or so years previously, nearly all of the island’s native and distinct megafauna had become extinct, with smaller species following swiftly due to hunting pressure and an expanding human population. Smaller fauna experienced a brief spike in population due to decreased competition but then they too died out under the human onslaught, victims of habitat loss and aridification of forests.
But this…? This was unprecedented, almost impossible.
The forest floor was littered with the carcasses of lemurs, all in various states of decay. Some were bare bones, still retaining the form of the animal due to the tough tendons remaining intact, the skin and flesh hanging in tatters from the bones like limp rigging on an abandoned ship. But a few were fresher, their corpses intact but bloated from expanding gases trapped inside their guts, and Michael stepped toward them, swatting dense clouds of mosquitoes and flies from his face as he looked down at the nearest victim.
The Extinction Code Page 11