Extinction Level Event

by Jose Pino Johansson

California

  California, being the epicenter of the ongoing earthworm extinction, bore the fruits of the disaster long before any other locale. At this point, the damage was more or less evenly distributed across the planet, so therefore being the geographical epicenter or not made little difference to the landscape and local flora and fauna. But psychologically, knowing that this is where it all began would be enough to make a person pause and take notice; contemplate silently within their own thoughts; and give respect to the unimaginable power which nature twisted in an unnatural way can possess over a given environment.

  Sitting at his window seat in the Delta Air Lines Boeing 767, "Trip" Manjak gets a full view of the lifelessness and bleakness below him as the plane descends towards Los Angeles International Airport. What was once a lush, verdant paradise for mediterranean weather enthusiasts only months before was now transformed into a mayhem of dead and dying botanical wildlife. Green replaced by yellows, browns, and shades of grey in varying degrees blanket the landscape in a dull mirage, a color scheme that lacks its most vibrant element. As far as the eye could see, the only green left are a few shrubs used to poor nutrient quality and little water. All for the lack of one of the Earth's smallest and less noticed species. South California's famous Palm trees have lost their color, if not most their palm fronds as well. Heaps of unrecycled detritus matter is littered across the plains and hills, a painful reminder of the absence of the essential workers who used to clean up the biological garbage for a living. Now, instead of being recycled and used as nutrients by the living world, the dead matter causes even more pain to the living by taking space and wasting precious resources.

  California's status as an agricultural state has all but vanished. Fields that were once fertile and full of produce such as fruits, vegetables, tree nuts, grapes, and almonds now sit stilled by the silence of death. Death not from a thousand cuts, nor from disease, nor a war, nor a single strike to the heart. Rather it is a death from loneliness. The fields, alone and by themsleves, could not survive without the company that they craved. That company was the company, and companionship, of the earthworms, which kept them alive and well in the living world. That cycle kept both the earthworms and the fields content and productive in their livelihood.

  That companionship is now dead, and the only remnant of that bond is now the dead stalks of plants strewn across the barren land.

  When the first species died out, the species that depended on them started to feel the pressure as well. Now, six months into the global storm, thousands of species across the globe are dying out at a rapid pace as a result of the breakages in their food and nutrient cycle, or as some call it, the great circle of life. Now, multiple species of birds, terrestrial animals, and even some species of insects have nearly completely disappeared from the face of California. What few remain have resorted to cowering in isolated spots by themselves, disengaging from all social contact with their peers. Hunting for their own food, jealousy and greed on the part of individuals prevent them from finding mates and helping continue the species. California has become a more lonely place, a place of shadows and echoes of the previous wildlife.

  Manjak decided to fly in to California to help coordinate the relief effort at the place of origin. Frankly, it didn't matter where he was; there was hardly any real solution to the global disaster that one man could make. At least he would be helping the US authorities cut down in delays, hopefully shelve disorganization in half, and see if he could get any UN bodies to help. The US had been staunchly reluctant to allow UN agencies to intervene on US soil, so far all problems internally in the US had been the responsibility of national and local US agencies and not the responsibility of the UN. The government had, as a matter of fact, strictly prohibited any UN forces, including humanitarian units, from entering the US.

  Which really is not the best approach, considering that the US wants to be a role model for the rest of the world. We need coordinated efforts, not stand-alone heroic bullshit. Manjak sighs, continuing to look out the window. Thinking about the state of the world, it is quite surprising, as a whole, that flights are still flying relatively on schedule throughout the US. Or for that matter, throughout the world. Yet, in a way it was quite logical that international air travel had not suffered the same way as had agriculture, the timber industry, or any other economic activity that depended on plants. While ecosystems had disappeared, oil continued to be extracted out of the ground from Saudi Arabia to Venezuela. There was no correlation between the number of earthworms present and the quantity of oil in a given area. For that matter, Manjak thought, in a few million more years there should be huge new deposits of crude petroleum from the decaying bodies of the ecosystems lost today. And so the cycle begins anew. The petroleum continued to be sucked out of far-flung deserts and wayward ocean drills to be exported to the centers of industry and commerce. So at least our cars, planes, and for that matter the whole transportation system is still running. Which has helped FAO a lot these last three months.

  And for the time being, the globe was still held together by the two forces that have globalized it during the first decade of the twenty-first century. The Internet still connected millions of homes and billions of the planets' residents through trillions of electrical impulses carried out by an innumerable quantity of underwater fiber-optic carrying wires and Wi-Fi microwaves. information still flowed across the globe, unhampered by biological processes that were essentially an isolated system from the technological forces of globalization. In addition, international air travel continued to be as safe and reliable as it had been in the previous year. Airlines continued to receive the kerosene necessary to keep their fleets in the air from the oil companies, which in turn kept passengers flying as they always do for business and leisure activities. The only difference was that now most major airlines didn't serve food on their flights. The US phenomenon of "pay-for-your-food" was now copied globally for short-haul and long-haul flights. And if food on the ground was thought to be expensive, the airlines thought it fair to charge totally exorbitant prices in the air to passengers who had no choice but to either bring their own food or purchase on-board. To make matters even less entertaining to passengers, the food sold on board came in even smaller quantities than before and its new form lowered the already low reputation that airline food suffered overall. To many frequent travelers, this change in the airlines' attitudes may have been a bit upfront but it was an understandable change. To most other people, though, it came as a surprise that the airlines continued to offer food in the first place. With so many species of crop dying out, diet variety was one of the first and foremost things to be disrupted in the lives of people in developed countries around the globe.

  Manjak isn't in California to save the thousands of dying species. Just one of them. Homo Sapiens Sapiens, that naive yet supremely capable species that is as weak as any domesticated cat yet also as hardy as a voracious sewer rat. While the fields of Californian grapes, lettuce, oranges, and flocks of chickens have succumbed to the terrible chain of events following that first fateful day, humanity at ground zero remains as resilient as ever. However, disorganization and misuse of resources are critical issues in Manjak's mind that need to be addressed in person. Even though the UN has no jurisdiction in California, under US federal law, he may still come over as an advisor to the government. He hopes that two days will be enough.

  The plane makes a sharp left bank. The view out of the window gives Manjak another glimpse of the decaying landscape outside of LAX airport. Although the runways are located at the waterfront, the few patches of trees that surround the airport are not the vibrant green that they used to be. The rest of the landscape is full of rowhouses typical of west Los Angeles. The plane lands on time, and thirty minutes after jostling through the airport crowds, which while smaller than before are still sizable at LAX, Manjak picks a cab and heads downtown. A slow bumper-to-bumper ride adds another forty minutes before Manjak arrives in front of FEMA's temp
orary headquarters in the city's downtown.

  The building being used by the joint FEMA-USDA emergency administration is no other building than the city hall of Los Angeles. The gleaming white facade of central tower jutts out from the building's base, proudly displaying the strength and pride that most Angelenos feel for their city. Even in the harsh climate of the last six months, the feelings of intense loyalty and sense of being able to stand the tide of negative things is still etched on the faces of ordinary Angelenos along the streets. Manjak gets out of the taxi, pays his bill, and runs up the stairs to bump into a cohort of armed LAPD officers who immediately move to prevent his ascent. A Lieutenant appears inbetween his men as Manjak is stopped by an open palm to his chest. "This is a restricted area, sir. Please state your business here.", comes the expected statement from the detachments' lieutenant. Manjak doesn't even bother responding verbally. Dressed in a fashionable yet practical business suit, Manjak simply takes out his diplomatic UN passport and passes it to the police officer. After a quick scan, the officer hands the passport back to Manjak and motions him forward. "Sorry for the delay, sir. A necessary precaution, I'm sure you'll understand". Manjak already knew the reason. After there had been several small riots in the city over government food ration distribution policies, the police presence had been increased to prevent such disturbances from occurring again. However, beneath the quiet facade there still simmered a deep heated tension between many of Los Angeles' poorer residents and the government of California over the perceived inequity of distribution.

  That was partially what Manjak hoped to improve here. Entering the city hall Manjak is greeted by droves of FEMA and USDA officials, secretaries, Food agency workers, and others that have taken up residence in the old masonry building. One of the government employees waiting at the reception desk comes over and recognizes him from the news. "Mr. Manjak? Please come this way." Leading him to an elevator, the receptionist takes Manjak through a speedy ten floor ascent to the top of the city hall's tower. The glass windows give an impressionable view of the Los Angeles downtown skyline, which consists of approximately a dozen supertall skyscrapers clustered together, surrounded by much lower development. Michael McCarthy looks up from his phone when Manjak knocks on his door, motioning for Manjak to enter.

  "Hey Trip. Come on in. Give me a minute" as he holds the phone between his shoulder and chin. After hanging up, McCarthy asks, "So what made you get on a plane from New York to California so quickly? You were just in New York, right?" "Hmmm, so what made you become director of all USDA-FEMA operations for the West Coast so quickly?", retorted Manjak politely, seeing McCarthy take a moment to make up answer. Before that, though, Manjak continued, "well, I thought you might use some UN oversight. I'm here unofficially, but I am here nonetheless. For about two days, before I have to fly to New York and then to Rome. Its amazing that we still have a functioning airline network." "For now. For now." replies McCarthy. "ok, so while you have been on your world tour, it has been pretty busy here." "Where is LaJoy? He was in charge when we put together the International Task Force three months ago." "LaJoy is dead" comes the somber response. "Killed by angry rioters in a freak incident." "Sorry to hear that." Yeah, well. In this world things happen; and because of that promotions tend to happen even faster." "Shall we get down to it?" "Sure thing".

  "Alright. Let me see your relief coordination plans, GIS maps for sectors hardest hit, personnel deployment, relief center setup. Basically everything you can get me." "This will probably work easier if I just show you. You can follow and advise me for the next day or two, if that is how you wanted to do this." "Sounds good to me."

  The duo of agriculture specialists make their way out of the high-rise office back into the elevator. Descending four floors, they exit the elevator to enter a control-room full of LCD screens, monitors, map images, dozens of workers on phones, technicians running displays, and in general a sort of organized mayhem. "This is our control room for all West coast relief operations," explains McCarthy. "Every major city has multiple relief centers set up where we distribute food rations based on coupons which are also given to people at the centers. This way security only has to worry about the centers." "Where do you get food from?", inquires Manjak, although he suspected he already knew the answer. "Farms out in the midwest and Northeast have been completely isolated by the Mississippi River and a huge decontamination program undertaken last month. You may have heard of it. After the Secretary of Defense recommended it we took to "decontaminate" the Mississippi by pouring a huge amount of antibacterial solution into the river. That barrier has allowed prime farmland in states like Ohio, Pennsylvania, Kentucky, and so forth to remain isolated from the virus. Thus we still have a food source, although it is just not enough to sustain us". "The point is you still have half the breadbasket intact and are making good use of it". "We were following your ideas; such as your isolation scheme of the Nile River Valley. We just followed the example, more or less."

  "I'm flattered. No really. But you know, I made sure every government around the world got a copy of FAO's recommendations last October." "We did receive a copy. Way back. I read the entirety of it. And put it to good use, naturally." McCarthy pauses, while leading Manjak around a massive 100-inch monitor displaying a myriad color image of the west American coast with geopolitical boundaries. "This is our comprehensive map of the West Coast and Mexico. The green represents remaining forest and chlorophyll plants." Manjak sees that most of the screen is a blot of brown, with only a few pockets of green lining the northern border with Canada.

  We are losing ground so rapidly. Gaia is winning this war. Manjak walks over to a smaller monitor where a FEMA worker is issuing instructions over his headphones. The FEMA employee's voice betrays frustration and irritation that he is trying failingly to contain. Manjak steps closer to listen in to the conversation.

  "Just make sure they don't get within twenty feet of the containers.", he repeats for the third time to the headset. Manjak leans closer, asking softly to avoid his voice going over the air as well, "What seems to be the problem?" The man looks up at Manjak, a paradoxical combination of annoyance and relief on his face; annoyance for being distracted, yet relieved to find someone else to handle the situation. "Sir, we have people blocking the traffic on East Alondra Drvie in Compton. One of our convoys can't get through", replies the man. "What do you mean, is blocking our convoy?", asks Manjak. "Three vans have halted traffic at the site, and have blockaded the road," explains theoperator, "Our guys say they can't continue to deliver their supplies-- hold on". The man puts the headphone closer to his ear, his face palling even more than its natural state as he tries to make out the situation at the other end of the line.

  Manjak hears a lot of commotion and shouting over the headphone line, but due to his two feet of distance between him and the controller, as well as the controller's head, it comes out as garbled and hardly recognizable. The operator's face has become ashen at this point, as the radio static confirms his initial fears. "They've been hijacked. We need to get Director McCarthy here immediately!", he cries out as he reaches for another phone. "Are you sure?", asks Manjak, "We don't want to be making errors here." "He said they had Ak-47s right before the line went out, and I heard them being told to get their hands in the air and everything. The convoy is in the crosshairs of a gang or something!"

  McCarthy, being only a few cubicles away, walks over faster than the Flash when Manjak calls out his name. "What is it?" "Sir", replies the operator, "We've lost contact with Convoy 6A as they were going along East Alondra Drive in Compton. Thats to the south of here. Their lead vehicle was ambushed by several grey GM vans, they got out to find out that the men in the vans looked like gang members. I told them to stay back, when the men got out with what are probably Ak-47s and other small arms and told our guys to get their hands in the air. I heard some yelling and scuffling after that, and the line went out" The man swallowed hard before continuing, "Their GPS is still working though" "Wh
ere are they?"growls McCarthy. "At the intersection of East Alondra and South Harris. It's located in a residential neighborhood" replies the operator.

  McCarthy flips open his cellphone and starts punching numbers furiously. Manjak, realizing that he doesn't have the networks or contacts here to be of any help here, clings back while McCarthy calls over all of the top brass in the City Hall. Within two minutes the FEMA district administrator, the LAPD Commissioner and the SWAT Colonel present in the City Hall are gathered for an informal meeting. "We have a convoy ambushed in Compton. And we may have a hostage situation", declared McCarthy to the other three. "Hostage situation? Are you sure?", asks Tony Ramirez, the Police Commissioner. "What happened to the cameras on the convoy trucks?" "They're out", replies Ellis from FEMA. Ramirez looks at the SWAT leader and McCarthy, "I could get a helicopter there in five minutes", he replies as he gives a nod to one of two junior lieutenants at his side. "We'll need to mobilize rapidly then. Special Ops units, sniper units, everything", adds the SWAT Colonel, "I'll get my teams moving. And confirm that the convoy people are hostages and not already KIA. I need to know what my people have to deal with".

  McCarthy adds, "We need to move now." But by the time he sentence had been uttered the SWAT commander had already gone past the door with a "Call me on my line if you need me" goodbye. Ramirez was talking on his phone to his field officers. Turning to McCarthy, Ellis said, "Can they get my people back?" "I certainly hope so." McCarthy said. At this point, Manjak was thinking what to do. He turned to McCarthy and Ellis, stating, "I've had these situations before. Maybe there is some way I can diffuse it, without using force. We have militias that try to take control of food relief convoys all the time, especially in warzones. I should go, see if there's anything I can do." "Do?", laughs McCarthy, "This isn't a warzone. Its a petty gang.We have plenty of them here" "I honestly don't see that much of a difference. What, with the amount of police you have in the streets do you have any checking the borders at this rate? There is no shortage of illegal smuggling during these past six months", answers Manjak. "Well, if you're so interested in going, talk to Ramirez" retorts McCarthy sharply. "I'm warning you not to, though. The last thing you need is to end up like LaJoy." "I absolutely am not going to end up like LaJoy. I know what I'm doing Mike". "Fine.", grunts McCarthy frustrated, "ask Ramirez for a lift".

  Fortunately for Trip, Ramirez catches the conversation while looking up from his phone. "Hey, UN guy. If you're up for a quick ride, I'm heading in the air command post". Manjak glances at McCarthy before turning into step with Ramirez and a police lieutenant. Walking quickly, Ramirez leads the way to the elevator which takes them to the ground level. Heading out at a fast clip, Ramirez walks past three dozen police officers to a large helicopter waiting outside City Hall in what used to be a park. Cleared of benches and trees to make space for a landing pad, the space is now occupied by a Black Sikorsky S-76. Going through the wind created by the blades relentless spinning, Ramirez enters the aircraft with Manjak right alongside him. Manjak climbs into the aircraft and the ground officer closes the door besides him. A thunder of additional power is added to the engine as the aircraft slowly lifts into the sky.

  Inside the helicopter Ramirez talks with his ground personnel over radio airwaves, while a Sergeant and a captain coordinate police through video and computer interfaces. Manjak stays in the back seat, observing the white angular tower of City Hall fall from under his feet as the helicopter ascends to a cruising altitude 200 meters above the ground. The grey and red concrete slabs of jungle that make up Los Angeles' downtown slowly peel back to smaller and more down-trodden three-story housing and retail settlements as the helicopter ventures southward. From the rear seat Manjak looks down to see a line of five police cruisers racing down an avenue parallel to the helicopter. Looking up from the ground he spots a formation of four additional police helicopters flying in formation with the pearly peaks of the Sierra Nevada mountains as a backdrop. If only I had a camera- nice picture. Manjak brushes the thought away as Ramirez leans back informing him, "Hey, we should be arriving at the scene in two minutes". Manjak hears the scattered police reports buzzing in on the intercom frequency, and suddenly realizes that it is a warzone. In so many years of travel to underdeveloped and unstable nations, Manjak had come to expect and always be ready for action and quick getaways at a moments' notice. Now, he realized he was flying into battle in America's second largest city. It was time to hang on.