Genetic Drift (3 page)

DAY ONE

INITIAL EXTRATERRESTRIAL CONTACT

WASHINGTON, DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA

The chilling air blew from the vents and trickled down his neck.  Staff Sergeant Collins huddled in his coat as he stood his watch in the Command Suite.  Tired and cold, his eight-hour watch would be ending any moment.  He stared at his screen as the final minutes were coming to a close.  Two years of his life, he stared at the screen.  Nothing ever displayed, not even a blip.  The whole system was a product of witchcraft, wizardry, and apocalyptic doomsday believers.  A system to locate incoming alien spacecraft.  But then it happened, after two years, days after days of eight-hour blocks of nothing, it happened.  One blip.

“General, our orbital satellites have picked up something 200,000 miles vectoring in between the Moon and the Earth’s surface,” he called out. 

General Hawkins looked down at the watch floor.  Four rows of watches monitored the elements of defense throughout the entire United States.  One man, Staff Sergeant Collins, sat with his face staring at his screen, waving his arm as if he had an answer to a teacher’s question. 

“What’s the composition?” the General asked.

“Composition One, Sir,” Collins stated as he maintained focus on his screen. 

General Hawkins looked up toward the Main Display.  Normally, it projected the defense of the United States or hot areas of operation.  The display hadn’t shown the orbital system since it was installed and tested.  He hoped that after all these years, it would still work.

“Put it on the Main Display.  Train the OOS toward the contact.  It’s probably a NEAR object but we will make sure,” the General said.

The Orbital Optic Sensor came online and displayed on the Main Screen. 

“Sir, that isn’t an asteroid.” 

“Of course it’s not.  I can see it too,” General Hawkins said as he shook his head.  A spacecraft was definitely on the display. 

“Sir, I think I can make out the silhouette… got it!  The estimated length from OOS is 1,000 miles,” Staff Sergeant Collins said.

“Get me SECDEF… and the President,” the General commanded, and he walked to his office.

General Hawkins thought back to five years earlier.  A group of SETI enthusiasts were determined to keep the Allen Telescope Array in California running.  In their determination, they made breaking news by receiving an old image of the Earth from space.  The image was tethered with the reply “Congratulations,” like a contestant on a game show.  They continued to receive the message for months until the transmission suddenly stopped.  The receipt of the transmission was all that was needed for proof of alien-life.  There were the skeptics but they did not prevail in defunding the planetary defense system since there was now proof that Earth was no longer alone. 

All of the countries in the world, through the United Nations, provided supplies for this endeavor.  The planetary defense system was state-of-the-art and able to intercept incoming threats without human intervention.  No single country had complete control of the system to eliminate the potential of it starting a war.

As the years went by, the thrill of receiving alien communications waned.  Support for the defense system also receded with funding only providing for bare boned operations.  It was deemed too expensive to perform maintenance runs.  Some units maintained a link with other units but did not have communications with the ground to report system status.  Each unit contained a missile battery of two and engineers claimed the missiles were ten times stronger than a volcanic eruption.  Periodically, two missiles would fire into space due to communications failure.  Luckily, there were still active cells without any failures.

This spacecraft came to Earth on the same vector as the signal received five years ago, just as predicted.  General Hawkins knew that the defense system would have to work if anything happened contrary to peace and goodwill. 

“Sir, the spacecraft has established an orbit about 150,000 miles out.  We are maintaining a watch and will inform you of any status changes,” Collins reported.

The General sat at his desk and listened over his intercom in silence.  He would occasionally glance at the Main Display hoping for any type of positive action, that the aliens would show that they had come in peace.  He knew that the longer the spacecraft sat out in space, the less friendly their actions would be.  The phone rang.

“Mr. Secretary,” the General said as he put the phone to his ear.

Staff Sergeant Collins watched as the goliath ship came into focus.  Its metallic gray hull perfectly reflected the sun with the blackness of space behind it.  Collins switched cameras and a different aspect of the image displayed on his screen and the Main Display.  The hull was shaped like a three-dimensional trapezoid.  It showed no wear on its smooth surface and no openings to launch attacks.  There was no command station or physical bridge that he could see.  He looked at the rear of the spacecraft and saw no signs of propulsion.  “Could it be unmanned?” he thought.  He copied his screen and put the pictures in a file at his station.

“So, what’s going on?” a man stood behind him.  He knew that voice and turned around.  He was glad to see his relief had arrived.

“Man, you won’t believe what just happened,” Collins said.

* * *

In the days that followed, governments started to inform their citizens that the alien life was right on their doorstep.  The word spread through news outlets and it was met with much fanfare.  There were parties to watch the spacecraft’s silhouette pass in front of the Moon’s illuminated face.  The spacecraft maintained its orbit for a month through all the phases of the Moon.  There were no responses to the many attempts to communicate with the craft. 

DAY 275

HAPPY PAWS MEDICAL CLINIC

CHARLOTTESVILLE, VIRGINIA

Rho
felt a heartbeat, felt the rise and fall of the vessel’s chest, felt the movement of the human’s body. 
Rho
had failed and understood that it couldn’t control its host.  The human’s mind was too intertwined with its body, too complex. 
Rho
conceded that it shared its life with this human, one body for two beings.  The human still controlled her conscious and her basic life functions.  But
Rho
now knew that it needed her.

“Human, wake up,” Rho
called out,
“I need you to wake up.”

“Why are you calling me?  What do you want?” she responded to its plea.

“You and I are one.  You must wake for us to live.”

“Okay, okay, I think I am ready,” she told the voice in her head.

Finally,
Rho
would be able to intake the stimulus that it yearned for.  Sight, hearing, touch, smell, taste, those senses would be provided by the human.  The darkness would be unveiled and
Rho
would know of the outside world.  Quietly, it waited for the human to escape from her dormant state.

Mac sat behind his desk, the room dark and quiet.  Barron sat in a fold-out chair in the opposite corner watching the light from the wall mount flip on and off.  Mac stared at the x-ray but he could find nothing abnormal showing on the film.

“Barron, I’m trying to figure this one out. All I have is this damn X-ray machine and it can’t do the job I need it to do,” Mac said.  He looked up at Barron, “How long before those panels are done?”  

“They should be done today,” Barron said.

“Please go to the lab and see if they have the results,” Mac asked.

Barron rose from his seat.  He folded the chair and placed it firmly in his dark corner.  He looked at Mac as the old man’s face was planted in his palms.  Exhaustion had caught up to his caffeine-driven energy.  Mac, deep in thought, heard the soft steps as Barron exited the room.

Once outside of the vet clinic, Barron passed by the shopping center.  He walked the same path leading to the hospital.  The triage area caught his attention as he wondered how Marcus Smith was doing.  The doctor and nurses were no longer beside the man.  All of the shrapnel was removed and a blood stained gauze wrapped around his torso replaced what was the gory mess he witnessed the day before.  Smith was lying on his side.  He seemed restful.  Barron did not want to cause any problems or make him stir, so he continued to the lab.  Barron walked into the lab but this time he felt the need to get done as quickly as possible.

“Ron, do you have the results from the blood panel?” he asked as he approached Ron with a more serious tone.

“Yeah, I do,” Ron said as he gathered the papers with the results, “there were some abnormal counts.  Is Mac working on someone with a virus?”  

Barron looked at Ron, remembering what Mac had said, “He’s doing some blood work for the militia.  I don’t know much of anything else.”  

“Alright, whatever he’s doing, let him know that the test will be sent to billing and is due at the end of month,” Ron shrugged. 

Barron nodded his head in agreeance and left the lab.  As he whisked through the hospital hallway, he thought about why there was a bill for the lab tests.  It wasn’t like money really had any value anymore.  Perhaps it was that people just clung to the old ways, the ways before the Attack.  Those thoughts evaporated as he saw Marcus Smith lying still on his hospital bed, quietly, peacefully.  He couldn’t afford to waste any time watching over Marcus, there was a patient at the clinic.  He scurried out of the hospital and sprinted back to the clinic.  Again, he did not see any of the militia on patrol.  

“Mac, do you know that they’re still charging you for these tests?” Barron yelled as he opened the door and rushed into the clinic.

Mac grinned and took the results.  “Red, white, and platelets are low,” Mac murmured as he was reading, “glucose normal, cholesterol normal.”  Barron was standing next to Mac peeking over his shoulder to see the numbers.  “Barron, I want you to take another blood sample,” Mac said, and his eyes fixed on the newly delivered paper.  

“Alright Mac,” Barron said, and he went to Tulip’s room.  

Barron stood next to Tulip’s bed, stretched into the cabinet and pulled out a ready package.  He grabbed the syringe and started to prep Tulip’s arm.  He wished there was an easier way to withdraw the blood.  Unfortunately, they had run out of capsules to plug into the IV port.  He pushed the needle into her arm.  The needle tip punctured the skin and he pulled back on the plunger.  This time the needle failed to draw any blood.  

“It must have been a bad syringe,” Barron thought. He said, “Sorry Tulip, I’ll get another one and do it right this time.”  He grabbed another syringe and swiped her arm with another alcohol pad.  He approached the skin with the needle for the second time.  Finding a new spot, he inserted the needle into her vein.  He pulled back on the plunger and again, no blood.

“This must be a bad batch,” he said as he moved the needle around the vein to see if it would draw the blood.  “Third time is a charm,” he said as he repeated the process the third time.  He was determined to get Tulip’s blood.  This was such a simple task and Barron was letting his frustration show.  “Tulip is just lying there.  This can’t be that difficult.  A monkey could do this.”  He decided to throw the needle like a dart.  “What would be the worst that could happen?” he thought. “She has two arms if anything goes wrong.”

“1… 2… 3,” he launched the syringe from close to her arm.  With a sudden jerk, Tulip’s arm moved out of the way as the needle sunk into the bed.  He looked at Tulip’s face, but she lay still on the bed, set like a stone.  He felt ashamed that he had gotten so frustrated and looked down at the syringe to pick it up.

“Human, it is time,” Rho
urged its host.  Her body and mind awoke.

As his hand grabbed the syringe, he heard, “Don’t call me Tulip.”  

Barron jumped back onto the rolling chair that was sitting behind him.

“Wh… What did you say?” he asked as his head shook.

Tulip turned her head.  Her face was streaked with dirt from a failed attempt to wipe her face.  Her hair was matted and wild.  Unkempt for months, the bonds of grease held her locks together.  Her eyes blinked slowly as she processed her new surroundings.  Barron had already seen her eyes from monitoring her.  He wasn’t in shock when the scarlet eye bore down on him.  

“My name isn’t Tulip,” she said with a groggy voice.  

“Mac!  Mac!” Barron called to the doctor, “I think you want to see this, she’s awake.”  

Mac rushed into the room with his eyes fixated on the woman.

“I’m glad to see that you have come back to us,” he said.

“You better not call me Tulip,” she said, and focused her eyes on Mac.

The control of her body was coming back.  Tulip felt a tingle in her arms and they moved.  She pulled her arms back and pushed.  Her torso rose as her arms straightened.  A draft of air blew through her open gown.  “Where am I?” she thought, and a sense of shock came over her.  Her body jerked up, twisting and grabbing, she struggled to escape.  Barron jumped and wrapped his arms around her.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” his soothing voice whispered in her ear.

Her body loosened as Barron spoke his words.  She placed her hands on the side of the bed as her legs dangled over the edge.  Her shoulders carried her weight as she closed her eyes and hung her head.  A deep exhale followed.  Mac put his hand on her shoulder. 

“I’m glad to see that you’re awake, you gave us a scare,” he said, and turned to Barron with a smile.

“Now it’s time to do some real work. Get some rest, we’ll start tomorrow.”