The Dying of the Light: Interval (24 page)

“Send it again, Mr. Blake,” said the governor, standing at my shoulder. The other members of the Advisory Board were also crowded into the room, looking at the big monitor where I’d cloned my screen so they could see it real-time without literally breathing down my neck. I tapped out the message we’d all agreed on one more, and hit the ‘Send’ button.

“McMurdo Station, this is AEGIS Bunker One. Do you read?”

We all waited for a minute, then two, then five. Nothing happened.

“Maybe they’re all dead,” said Sheila.

“They’re not dead,” answered the governor. “It’s Antarctica. Things take time. Give them a minute.”

We gave them another ten minutes, and there was still no answer, despite having sent the message two more times.

“What about voice transmission?” asked Seward. We all turned to look at him, more than a few of us confused. “Well, what if they can
send
text but not
receive
it for some reason?”

Kim glanced at me, and I thought for a moment. This was going way beyond my technical training, and as I looked at the boards, I knew there was no way I was going to be able to do this. “I don’t know how. We need a tech.”

Kim stood up and strode to the door, opening it and giving instructions to the guard. He left and returned a few moments later with Marcus Potter, who saluted Kim as he arrived, with the guard shutting the door behind him.

“Reporting as ordered, ma’am,” Potter said.

“Stand easy, Captain,” she replied. “I need something from you, but until I authorize you to do so, you can’t tell anyone what you’re about to find out.”

To his credit, Potter didn’t bat an eye. “Understood, ma’am.”

Kim nodded. “Good man. Now, can you get this equipment to transmit voice signals?”

Potter snorted. “A signal’s a signal, ma’am. Voice, text, it don’t matter,” he said, moving to take the station as I stood to one side. “Which bunker we sending to?”

The rest of us looked around, and when she didn’t immediately answer, he looked up and saw the glances. “Ah, I see. So not a bunker, at all, then.”

It was Kim’s turn to snort. “No flies on you, are there, Mr. Potter?”

He grinned back. “No, ma’am. So, where’re we sendin,’ then?”

“McMurdo Station.”

Potter whistled. “I didn’t think we could… well, never mind. You wouldn’t have called me in if we couldn’t do it. Lemme see now…” He flipped a couple switches, typed a command or two, then pulled a microphone out of a slot built into the terminal.

When Kim looked at me, I just shrugged. “I sold books before Z-Day. Whaddya want from me?”

She rolled her eyes, and I smiled. “Ready to transmit, ma’am, whenever you are.”

Kim shook her head. “Not me,” she said, waving toward the governor.

“Thank you, Colonel,” said the Governor, and took the mic from Potter, waiting for his signal. He punched another button and motioned to her with a nod.

“McMurdo Station, this is Governor Angela Gates of AEGIS Bunker One. Do you read me?”

I sighed when there was still no answer. “Maybe it was just a one-off, that message,” I said. “Doesn’t seem like anyone is—”

There was a crackle of static and a young woman’s voice blasted from the speakers, causing everyone in the room to jump and Potter to slam his hand down on the volume control, turning it
way
down.

“This is McMurdo Station! This is McMurdo Station! Can you hear us? Oh, God, can you hear us?”

“McMurdo Station, we read you.”

“Oh, thank God!” There was cheering in the background, what sounded like a big crowd. I wondered how many people were left. “We thought we were the only ones left! Did the bunkers work? Are the walkers still out there? What about the government?”

Gates laughed. “Slow down, slow down! We’ll answer all your questions. First, I’d like to know who I’m talking to.”

The woman on the other end of the tenuous satellite connection, nearly nine thousand miles away, laughed in return. “I’m… I’m Dr. Sabrina Tanner, Governor. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You too, Dr. Tanner. Tell me something, how many of you there?”

There was a long pause, and Gates glanced at Potter. He checked the equipment and then turned with a shrug, indicating everything was working on our end.

“Dr. Tanner? Are you there?” asked Gates.

“I’m sorry, Governor, but Dr. Tanner has… well, she’s a bit overcome by this,” said a new voice on the line. “I’m Dr. James Atkins.”

“Hello, Dr. Atkins. Is Dr. Tanner going to be all right?”

“Oh, yes, yes, she’ll be fine. She’s just a bit tired and this is kind of overwhelming. We didn’t really believe anyone was left. I mean, we heard about the bunkers, but we never expected…”

“We never expected this either, Doctor. We believe that the only reason we can speak right now is the solar storm occurring above us all. Our people think that it’s somehow bouncing our signals back and forth, but could end at any moment. That’s why it’s imperative that we act as quickly as we can.”

“I agree completely, Governor.”

“Good. Now, how many people do you have down there?”

“About nine hundred, ma’am.”

“And who’s in charge?”

“Ah, that would be Dr. Warner.”

“Is everyone down there a doctor?”

“Just about, ma’am. Just about. There’s a few that aren’t, but not many.”

“Noted. Can I speak with Dr. Warner?”

“Afraid not, ma’am. He’s out on the ice at the moment, and won’t be back for another twenty minutes.”

“I see. I suppose the next thing I should ask is whether you folks have any way off the ice?”

“No, ma’am. Not anymore.”

Gates folded her arms over her chest, holding the mic close. “What’s your situation there, Dr. Atkins?”

“Grim, Governor. We’re on quarter rations, and those are mostly fruit and vegetables from our aeroponics bays—” I glanced at Sheila, whose eyes had lit up at that last. I mouthed the word ‘aeroponics,’ and she shushed me as Atkins continued. “We’re all pretty weak. Our power is all off of generators, and we’re low on fuel.” He paused for a moment, then continued, his voice cracking. “We’re dying, Governor.”

Gates motioned for Potter to mute the mic, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. I glanced around, and there wasn’t a single soul unaffected in the room. Sheila was dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve, and I had to admit I was a bit misty, too. Kim glanced at me, and I shrugged. “Nine hundred people, literally half a world away from the only people that know they’re alive. I can’t imagine being in that situation. I don’t want to. I’m amazed that there are that many left, frankly.”

Gates cleared her throat, and Potter turned the mic back on. “Dr. Atkins, I want you to know that we’re not apathetic to your needs up here. Now that we know you folks are alive down there, I want to work with you to see if there’s anything we can do to get you home. I can’t promise you anything; after all, we’re stuck here, as well, at least to some degree. The world has gone to hell, and it’s not only the walkers we have to worry about.

“So here’s what I’d like you to do. If you can, put together a summary of your situation, your supplies, what sort of skilled people you have—particularly doctors, that is,
medical
doctors—and send it to us. We’ll put our people here on the problem, and see if we can come up some solution that gets you folks out of there.”

“That… Governor… that would be very, very welcome.” I could hear his voice breaking again, and I could tell he was close to breaking down. “We’ll get you that report as soon as we can. If I might ask a favor?”

Gates straightened, clearly ready to help, if she could. “If it’s in my power to grant, I’ll help, Dr. Atkins.”

“There’s a lot of Americans here, and I think they’d like to try and get some messages to people who might be in the bunkers. Family and such. If we get you some short messages, could you transmit those? Do you have contact with the other bunkers?”

I winced at his question, knowing that the answer could be problematic. How to tell him that half the bunkers weren’t talking to us anymore, and half of those had just gone dark, with no notice, leaving us wondering what the hell had happened? I saw Gates was struggling with the answer, too.

“Send the messages, Dr. Atkins. Make sure they’re clearly addressed with names and last known city of residence. I’ll have my people scan our files for their names and, if I can, will get them to their families if at all possible.”

“Thank you, Governor. Thank you so very, very much.”

“You’re welcome, Dr. Atkins. Have one of your people keep this line open for as long as you can, and we’ll do the same.”

“Absolutely.”

“Good night, then, Dr. Atkins.”

“And a very good night to you, Governor Gates.”

“So now you know as much as we do about their situation,” Gates said as she sat at the head of the conference table. She was tired, as we all were. It had been a long, long day, and it wasn’t done yet, by any stretch.

“Well, ain’t this a pickle,” said Frank Anderson, head of Bunker Eight’s military unit. His voice sounded a bit muted by the speakerphone. “What can we do?”

“Do? We can’t do anything, at least not right now,” answered George Maxwell, also on speaker from Bunker Seven. “Kim already told us those people will be dead inside a year, probably less. Personally, I give them six months. Even if we could find a way to get down to them, it might take us that long, and then the whole trip would’ve been for nothing.”

Kim turned to me, surprised etched on her face. I shrugged. It wasn’t like Maxwell to give up easily, but he did have a point.

“He has a point, Angela,” said Roger Tate, Bunker Eight’s governor. “There’s no way to get to these folks, anyway.”

“I think those estimates might be a little conservative, General,” said Gates. “Dr. Atkins indicated—”

A new voice piped up on the line, one that Kim and I instantly recognized. “Did you say Dr. Atkins, Governor?” asked Mary Maxwell, current head of the AEGIS science division.

Governor Gates looked puzzled. “Yes, Dr. Atkins.”

“Dr.
James
Atkins?”

“I believe so, yes.”

There was a brief noise in the back that sounded like someone squealing, and Kim and I couldn’t help but smile. We’d both seen Mary quite excited, though it had been a while. “Governor,” Mary continued. “You absolutely
must
find a way to rescue that man.”

“We’re working on that, Mrs. Maxwell. If there’s any way—”

“No, no, no. You don’t understand. This is not optional. You
must
rescue him. Use whatever resources you have to get him back here, back to me.”

Neither Kim nor I knew what was going on, and we both shrugged when Gates looked at us. “Why is this man so important, Mrs. Maxwell?”

“He’s a geneticist, Governor. And not just
any
geneticist, but probably one of the best. Governor Gates, he might be the only man left in the world who can give us a cure.”

Chapter Eleven

AEGIS Bunker One

I glanced over at the governor, standing behind the hastily-erected podium in one corner of her office, the official seal of the AEGIS program on the wall behind her. She was poised, confident, and looked ready—or at least as ready as anyone could be—to tell nearly ten thousand people that there was a group just over 10% that size on the bottom of the world, and that they were going to be a part of a rescue plan.
I
wouldn’t have wanted to be out there in front of the camera.

Kim walked in and stood by my side, nudging me with her shoulder. “Everything set?”

I nodded. “Yeah, she’s ready to go.” We hadn’t used the public address system much since Z-Day, since really everyone knew what was going on pretty quickly, what with the community being, by necessity, so insular. But this broadcast would reach every monitor in the base, just about.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” said Kim.

“You’re the one who said we all needed something to pull towards, Kim,” I answered. She frowned, but I continued anyway. “The whole base recon thing worked for a little while, but that’s over with now. This, on the other hand… this could really be what we’re looking for.”

Kim just grunted as the governor began to speak.

“Good morning, Bunker One. I’m sure you all have work to do, so I’ll be brief. Approximately eighteen hours ago, we established tenuous contact with some survivors outside of the bunker network. I say the contact is tenuous because the signal is being bounced off several satellites between here and Antarctica.”

She paused to let the distance sink in, and continued. “That’s right, Antarctica. The survivors we’ve been speaking to are from McMurdo Station, the largest base on that continent. We’ve been told there’s about nine hundred people left down there, from almost all the countries that had bases on the ice. We’re able to talk to them because of the solar storm; it’s not only affecting our communications with the other bunkers, but it’s causing some serious electromagnetic interference. We just happened to get lucky, and have the McMurdo signal bounce to us, and bounce back. We don’t know how long it will last, but it’s likely only days.

“The scientists and others down there are stuck. They have no way to get off the ice, to say nothing of getting home, and they’re dying. The Advisory Board and I, for many different reasons, have decided to mount a rescue mission for these poor souls.”

I glanced around the room, looking at some of these folks who were only hearing this for the first time. All of them were stunned, but none were shaking their head or otherwise indicating that they thought the governor was crazy. Some were nodding in agreement. I looked at Kim and noticed she, too, was observing the crowd.

“Here’s where you can help,” said the governor. “We need ideas for how to go about this rescue. It’s time to brainstorm, people. We’re looking for any idea that’s workable, given our resources both in terms of equipment and people. If you’ve got an idea, pass it to your department head. The department heads will bring us all ideas in twenty-four hours, and we’ll see if we can’t find a way to bring these people home. Good luck, to all of us.”