Extinction Level Event (22 page)

Pulling away from the traffic light, downtown Mexico
City soon comes into view, boasting its unique Spanish-Aztec mixed
architectural style, large cathedrals, and massive buildings of
stone masonry built during the sixteenth century. The central
plaza, or Zócalo as it is known in Mexico, is abuzz with people,
traffic, and activity in general. The Zócalo plaza is one of the
largest open city spaces in the world, with almost a thousand
people walking, talking, or simply taking a break on its surface.
It is surrounded on all sides by some of Mexico's most important
landmarks, including the massive gothic Metropolitan Cathedral on
its North side, the Nacional Palace, and the Old Portal de
Mercadores. Hidden beneath these buildings lies the Aztec's most
important ancestral temple, the Templo Mayor of Tenochtitlan. A
large Mexican flag flies high and prominently over the middle of
the great plaza.

McCarthy steps out of the cab onto the curb of the
plaza, leaving Rodriguez to pay and give the driver a large tip. Of
course, McCarthy figured this would work since he paid for the cabs
in Ensenada. Gonzalez steps back onto the curb as the taxi drives
off. "Leaving me to pay?", asks Gonzalo half-jokingly. "I paid last
time", quipped back McCarthy, "besides, this is what happens when
the government doesn't get us a car". Pointing at the National
Palace, Rodriguez simply says, "Whatever. That way. What do you
think of Mexico?". "Well, since I've never been to
la Ciudad
before, I must say its different." "Different from what?", asks
Rodriguez as they begin walking across the main plaza.
"Sacramento!", replies McCarthy, feigning excitement. "Funny."
"Actually, really, it is different from Sacramento. I'll have to
stay longer to really get to know it, but I wouldn't mind staying a
little longer to explore the place" "You may end up getting what
you wish for", states Rodriguez dryly, "We'll have to see how this
meeting goes".

The two arrive at the main entrance of the National
Palace where they identify themselves to the guards and wait to be
let in. Two minutes later they are being led into the grandiose
building by a government secretary in a business suit. Once inside
the Palacio is a large majestic structure made of high ceilings and
walls covered in murals depicting the conquest of the Aztecs and
the founding of modern Mexico. Chandeliers of incredible glass and
crystal light from the roof and shine upon the arching hallways,
illuminating the bright red carpet which covers the floors.
Rodriguez and McCarthy are escorted through the halls until they
enter a meeting room filled with several ornate wooden chairs and
table together with a small speaking podium.

The secretary then tells them to make themselves
comfortable, since things are running a bit late; the Foreign
Minister, Daniel Ortega, should be with them shortly.

"How do we start?", asks McCarthy. "I'll start, as
they should already be familiar with my reports. Most importantly
we have to stress the impact that the earthworms have on the
agriculture economy, and that if they want to avoid larger
shortages of food later, they should have an early harvest".
"That's the same exact thing that the Governor has ordered in
California." "Yes", replies Rodriguez, "It is a basic first step.
You will have to tell them that they may want to prevent contact
with the infected worms". "That’s a problem. How do they separate a
rural population from one of the most profound species found in
rural areas?" "That will be their problem. You just convince them
that they have to do it." "Right", grunts McCarthy. "Let's first
see how long we wait."

After twenty minutes of waiting, McCarthy wonders
aloud, "Did the State Department forget to tell them we were coming
over?" Rodriguez chuckles, but remains silent and continues to wait
patiently. However, at that exact moment a man of average height
with graying hair and dressed in political garb walks into the
room. "Excuse me. Sorry for the delay", apologizes the man in
nearly perfect English, "We are rather busy. I'm Daniel Ortega,
Foreign Minister of Mexico. Pleased to meet you, doctors."
Rodriguez and McCarthy take turns shaking hands before sitting back
down. "The cabinet won't be able to hear you, but talk to me as if
I am the whole cabinet", proclaims Ortega. "We won't need a
translator," elaborates the Minister, smiling confidently with the
statement.

"Very well, sir", replies McCarthy slowly. "We are
here, on behalf of the US government, to help your country assess
the earthworm disaster and help you take measures to stop it, which
we have been doing in Ensenada." "Yes I know,", answers the
Minister, "A failure in all respects, as clearly the plague has
manifested itself beyond our borders as well".

"Unfortunately yes", interjects Rodriguez, "but you
know it is a plague. Both the USDA and US government knows as well.
We recommend that the Mexican government tell its people that it is
a virus, and not some other natural or manmade catastrophe."
"You've mentioned recommendation that in your last report Dr.
Rodriguez. We simply find it unwise to do that. How will people
react when they know a virus is sweeping our country? We don't want
mass panic, nor civil disorder which has already increased
significantly in two weeks."

"But if you don't tell the people, someone else
will", adds McCarthy, "CNN en Espanol, for instance is already-"
"CNN is fine, but it should limit coverage to the US for that"
snapped Ortega. "I'm not an official of the state department here
sir, but I do now that you cannot simply tell CNN what to show and
what not to" "Debatable", replies Ortega irritably, "We will decide
that at a later date." "It will be out sooner rather than later",
mutters Rodriguez. "Let us move on", states Ortega, more
authoritatively, "next item on the agenda, as the American
euphemism goes."

"Well, we wanted to tell you that Mexico's farmers
should start harvesting their crops. Now. We have here a flash
drive, with some information from the USDA for you", explains
McCarthy as he withdraws the USB from his front pocket. "Harvest
their crops now?", asks Ortega in near-disbelief, "Why?"

Rodriguez shifts in his seat a little, before
responding. "Well, I explain it all in the information on that USB,
but basically, all your soil has lost a major biological component.
I would say a critical component. The soil will no longer be able
to aerate nearly as efficiently or quickly as before, no longer
decompose detritus, no longer have healthy mineral levels. Simply
put, the soil will degrade in quality until it is no longer usable
but rather detrimental to the crop plants. And then, without good
soil, you could have excess water that doesn't drain which will
drown plants; dusty, weaker soil that doesn't support root
structure, organic matter that piles up and doesn't compose. Plants
will be more susceptible to diseases, with less minerals and
resources at their disposal. The plants will slowly die from this,
crop plants are as sensitive to changes in their soil environment
as they are to climate change, if not more so."

"That is a very hefty argument you make, Dr.
Rodriguez. Let's assume for a moment that everything you say is
true- and I know you are an expert in you field, which is why I say
that- it will totally disrupt the entire cycle of farming in the
country, which is strongly seasonally dependent." "This change is
even more important than climate", repeats Rodriguez, "although you
may experience an increase in atmospheric carbon levels, between
all the dead worms and the un-composted decay left on the soil
layer. None of this will be beneficial to the crops, and rather
than wait for the accumulated effect of these processes to take
effect, the government of California has ordered all farmers to
harvest within the next two weeks. We think this is the best course
of action, and I recommend it based on my expertise."

"I see.", replies Ortega, leaning his head on his
hand in a thoughtful pose. "We'll look through your report. Perhaps
you are right. This will harm our agricultural cycle and economy,
but perhaps you are right." "It will be a lot more economically
harmful to wait", states McCarthy. "Very well. Anything else,
gentlemen?", the Minister inquires.

"No sir", answers McCarthy, "those were our
government's two greatest concerns" "What about the social
situation?", Rodriguez asks the Minister. Ortega replies, " Well,
that remains to be seen. If we keep our crops intact by harvesting
them early, as you recommend, we shouldn't have a shortage in three
or four months, should we?" "Not everything is ready to be
harvested immediately", says McCarthy, "there will be crop losses
in the process." "We'll take care of that", jabs Ortega smoothly,
"but what we tell the people of Mexico is our business. And that is
that. It has been a pleasure, gentlemen" finishes the Foreign
Minister, standing up. After finishing the customary goodbyes,
McCarthy and Rodriguez are escorted out of the National Palace to
an awaiting government car. Sensing a buzz in his back pocket on
the way out, McCarthy checks his cell phone. "New instructions", he
tells Rodriguez after checking his inbox, "We have to get back to
LA." "For what?" "I'm supposed to help take direction of the
situation along with LaJoy", replies McCarthy, more than a little
surprised at the message.

Zheijiang Province, China

South of the Pearl River Delta lies Zheijiang, an
administrative province of some 50 million inhabitants, more urban
than rural. Nonetheless, the countryside outside of the province's
major cities are still dotted by rural peasant-folk who live in
farmhouses away from the hustle and pollution of the cities. Cheung
Lak is one such local farmer.
Yet this day, his daily routine of applying pesticide to his crops
is disrupted by an unusual discovery: the presence of dead worms
amongst the crops. As puzzled and perplexed as his colleagues
across the Pacific Ocean, Cheung drops to one knee to pick up one
of the earthworms. Seeing the creature not move in his grip, he
concludes that it is dead- and so the others must be as well.
Picking up a shovel, he starts to clean the land of the hundreds
that have appeared dead over the past day.

At the end of several hours of work, Cheung heads
back to his farmhouse, feeling hot, tired, and drained of energy
from the work. Parched, he pours himself water from the family well
before deciding to take a nap.
What an odd day
; he thinks to
himself as he closes his eyes.

UCLA, California

Expecting a call from NBACC at any moment, Krishnan
sits impatiently at his desk waiting for the phone to ring with the
expected caller. Sure enough, he isn't pressed to wait long before
his call is received. "Dr. Krishnan, CBEID." "Good Afternoon Dr.
Krishnan. This is Jackson Medina. I am the Director of Research at
NBACC. I've been instructed by the Secretary of Defense to act as
liaison between your research team and mine. As such, any material
that you have on this outbreak should be forwarded to me as soon as
possible." "Jackson Medina? I know you. I used to be on the
oversight board for NBACC for a while." "Yes, that's me. It has
been a while, sir." "Yes it has. Hopefully you changed that project
to fit closer with my recommendations. But that's beside the point.
I'll make sure that all information we have compiled will be
received by your people as soon as possible." "Sounds good. Let's
say 14:00 hours?" "Agreed", answers Krishnan, "By the way, have you
started taking samples on the East coast?" "Yes we have. We need
controls specimens. You don't have any more." "Yes. Keep them,
quarantine them. They may prove useful later on." "Sure." Medina
hangs up the phone, leaving Krishnan to send over every single
report, recommendation, and analysis that the scientists had
compiled in the past several days.

Krishnan begins sending attached files via his e-mail
to Jackson Medina's provided e-mail address. Reports such as
Virus Designation EWK-1:Potential Rate of Spread by Krishnan and
Miyazaki
,
Human Impact and Transmissibility by Carter and
Wang
,
Agricultural Impact by Krishnan, Wang, and
McCarthy
, all are sent to Medina's email. Krishnan spends
another half hour sending every single paper compiled to Medina,
hoping that the scientists and counter-biowarfare specialists at
NBACC could make some more sense of the data than has already been
done.
Perhaps I should go over there, but I'm in charge
here
.
That wouldn't be helpful over here.
Krishnan
dismisses the though, realizing that video conferencing and
electronic media will have to suffice for communication
purposes.

Krishnan's thoughts are interrupted by knocking on
the wall. Looking up, he immediately recognizes his friend Viktor.
The ethnic Russian, who surprisingly spoke English with barely an
accent, was Viktor Konovalov, one of the world's renowned
geneticists, who had just flown in to give him a hand. It didn't
hurt that the two men had known each other personally for almost
twenty years.

"Ah, Viktor! I didn't see you there." "Yeah, right.
Who were you so busy talking to that you couldn't sense my
approach?" "That would be NBACC. The National Biodefense and
Countermeasures Center. They need to know what we're doing,
apparently. Frankly, I think its in our best interests that they're
in on this one". "How did you manage to get NBACC's help?" "Spoke
to Onassis. He probably realized it was a matter of national
security, and that led to this." "Interesting", replied Konovalov,
"You know, this whole thing is interesting though. Let's see- Virus
running amok. Worms dying. Farmers complaining. I would expect to
see this situation maybe in a bad science fiction movie if it
weren't somehow happening for real".