Evacuation (The Seamus Chronicles Book 2) (3 page)

We don’t typically go to the lab after dinner, but that’s where Cassandra wanted to go on our walk. Maybe she and Jane are going to try a new approach to getting me to work the way they want me to. While walking, Cassandra tells me that our project is the only thing keeping her mother sane and begs me to give her two months of full commitment. She gives me no scientific justification for her argument and is not skilled at making emotional arguments.

In the lab, we both go to my workbench and each take a stool. I can see the wheels turning in Cassandra’s brain as she tries to come up with a compelling argument. She is looking across the lab to her mothers’ station and, following her gaze, I see Jane sadly looking out the window, and then recognize the same expression on her daughters’ face.

“Seamus, I need to tell you something,” Cassandra says. She cannot seem to look me in the eye.

No one ever starts a good conversation with ‘I need to tell you something’ so I am not optimistic about the next words to come out of her mouth.

“We,
all of us,
really need you to keep working on our project.” Her eyes continue to focus on a spot on the floor. “In fact, it’s a matter of life and death.”

“I don’t see how it can be a matter of life and death if we aren’t working to make more of the vaccine,” I reply. While I speak, I stare at the side of her head. Her fear and inability to make eye contact give me confidence. I couldn’t make eye contact if she were to look at me. “But I guess at this point there are no more virus carriers, so once we run out of vaccine we should still be safe.”

“In a few months, the vaccine won’t matter at all,” Cassandra said, slowly shaking her head.

“Right, that’s what I mean.” I’m not sure why she’s so sad about not having to worry about the “killer cold” taking us all. “So the only things left that are life and death are food, water and shelter. I should be helping my mom with the gardening and chickens and livestock.”

“No.” Cassandra is taking deep breaths to keep calm. “The virus is man-made.” She looks up to see my reaction, which I don’t have. “As if that weren’t bad enough, the bastards made it
smart.
”

Now it’s my turn to grab someone by the hand. Instead I grasp her wrist and quickly stand up before dragging her toward the door. “Everyone deserves to hear about this” is all I can say before we leave Jane and the lab on our way back to the dining room.

Those that did not stay in the dining hall with Dad are relaxing on the grass just outside. Some are playing catch, others look like they are involved in tag of some sort, but they all stop when they see me leading Cassandra back across the parking lot. Not a word is said, but when we get to the door I look back and see that Jane is finally coming through the door of the lab building. Her head is down, but I am not going to wait for her to have a chance to spin what Cassandra has to share.

“Babe, we can’t just leave them down there, they’ll die.” Dad is sitting in a chair looking up at Mom, standing beside him.

“Cassandra has something to tell us about the virus, and why we’ve been working so hard on trying to figure out faster-than-light travel,” I say as I more or less push Cassandra down into a chair.

Before she begins speaking, William and Randy, Liam, Grace and the rest filter back into the dining room.

“The virus was man-made,” Cassandra says. She speaks clearly before lifting her head to survey the room.

“Sad, but not all that surprising.” Dad is not impressed with this revelation.

“They made it
smart.
It will continue to adapt and evolve until humans are extinct,” Cassandra continues. Her eyes return to the floor.

“But we have the vaccine?” Dad is unsure of the impact of her statement.

“It will figure out a way to defeat the vaccine.” Jane is standing in the doorway; all heads turn to her after she speaks.

“Then why did they bother with the vaccination program at all?” Mom says, taking over the questioning.

“Doctors in Chicago, St. Louis, Dayton and Pittsburg were working on a way to eradicate the virus. My understanding is that they were close, which is probably why some idiot in Washington thought it was okay to release the virus.” Jane is angry with the bureaucracy that gave her this knowledge and put all of us in this position. 

“But then the Army decided to burn everything east of the Mississippi.” Dad turns to look at the room. “Classic government; the left hand doesn’t know what the right is doing.”

“Before I lost contact with them, we had discussed a secondary plan, something that I could work on. The intent was it would be a last-ditch effort in the unlikely event that they failed.” Jane has made her way to stand beside the table.

“And that plan was to build a spaceship?” The jump does not seem logical to me, so I have to ask.

“Yes and no. The plan is to evacuate the planet, if we can.” Jane has her hand on Cassandra’s shoulder. “Initially I assumed we could go to the International Space Station or some low earth orbit for a few days until the virus was starved and went dormant. Then I learned that it will take years for the virus to go dormant.”

“So now your plan is to go where?” Dad looks confused and, like the rest of us, the end game is unclear to him.

“There are 42 known planets that orbit in the habitable region of their suns. Our plan is to visit each one until we find a planet that can sustain human life.” Jane has an impressive resolve for such a far-fetched plan.

“And how would you rate your likelihood of success?” Dad remains stunned.

“A few percentage points higher than surviving the virus here on Earth.” Jane nets it out starkly. “We have a database that includes a great deal of information for responding to a disaster like the one we are facing. It is difficult to grasp, but I am happy to share access with you all. If you find areas that you can help with or leads that might save us…” She does not know how to finish her statement.

“But the Army didn’t have this database, so ‘scorched earth’ was not one of the steps?” Dad is justified in his doubt.

“There was a complicated access protocol that was put into place when a specific government official failed to enter a code for a set number of days. As the weeks without entering the code wore on, a growing circle of elite scientists were given deeper access to the database. As of last week, the four government-employed scientists here have full access. But to answer your question, no the Army did not have access and their fire was not a useful response,” Jane says tersely. She did not create this problem and did not choose to be the owner of the solution, but she is remaining remarkably strong.

“I’ll start some coffee,” Mom says. “We have a long night of reading in front of us.” She walks to the kitchen.

It looks like I am about to be reacquainted with the dreaded “all-nighter.”

I have hyperventilated twice in the last half hour. The weight of responsibility and the nature of the information I have been sifting through overwhelmed me physically and mentally. The database we have been asked to comb through for a virtual survival guide is vast and poorly organized. If the response protocol had been clear, I would be confident that we had a chance to follow it. Unfortunately, there are multiple layers of information with the only useful details emerging at the lowest layers. This means I need to read down through multiple vague documents before I can determine if the thread is of any value.

William has been helpful. He has been able to explain the database hierarchy for me. The design was implemented to address a catastrophic global event such as nuclear or biological warfare, near-instant climate shift or even an alien invasion. While any scientist with top-secret clearance could access any part of the database, there were many scientists around the globe who were permitted access down to different levels. William, for example, maintained a level three clearance.

When the database administrator failed to access the system for one month, all scientists with accounts were granted access one layer down the security chain. Each month with no access gave the scientists permission for one deeper level. After six months, all encryption was removed and the default user account admin/system could access everything. The only trick was knowing it existed.

William and Randy never knew about the six-month release. They had been using their own credentials all along. Jane only found out about the database access restrictions when she had spoken with the scientist in Chicago; it turns out he was very senior. She had assumed that most agencies had a similar level of access. I still don’t understand why Jane did not tell us what was going on with the virus. Perhaps she did not have very deep access and was waiting for the sixth month window to open.

I’ve done long nights of reading before, but they were filled with interest and awe. Tonight's reading is filling me with fear and sadness. At four a.m. I have to stop. Sleep is an enemy I cannot defeat. Reluctantly, I turn off the monitor. There is no plan for tomorrow, no guarantee of progress. How will I sleep knowing that I will wake to fear, uncertainty and doubt?

Morning comes quickly but brings no urgency. I must get going, figure out the answer to a question I cannot phrase. Coffee has been my morning routine for a while now. Looking out the window with a cup in my hand feels normal. It’s just another day and the children will be up, playing before school. But I’m not going to watch them today. I negotiate with myself and win ten minutes on the front steps. The warm sun and the caffeine can work together to lift my spirits. 

Shortly after I sit down, Dad appears next to me. Absent is any stress or fear over the task at hand— saving the human race. He is simply drinking coffee and staring off into the sunrise. I’m ready for a clichéd comment on the weather.

“Seamus, none of us can come up with a wrong answer,” he says and looks off into the distance. While Dad groups us all together, I know that he must be looking to me to help him understand the reality of our situation.   

The fear and sadness in my eyes tells him what I can’t find the voice to say.

“What I mean is that you didn’t put the answers in that database, you are only pulling them out. Don’t be afraid of what you find,” he says. It’s the same calm voice he used when I learned to ride my bike. “I think that Jane was afraid of what she would find in there. So she hid it from us and faked a plan to keep us all busy and moving. The plan helped her feel in control, but accomplished very little.”

“Dad, I don’t know if I can do this,” I say. I want to cry but I can’t. “I might not be able to find the answers, and even if I do, I might not be able to make them happen.”

“That’s okay.” He is completely sincere. “Mom and I talked last night. She reminded me that each of us has knowledge and skills that might help. We are all responsible for deciphering this database, not just you. The kids are going to be having a movie day today. The rest of us are going to unravel this puzzle. If you don’t find the answer, maybe Liam or Sofie or Mom will.”

“Well, probably not Liam,” I say. I can’t help but tease my brother.

Dad slaps my back and puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close to him “Right, probably not Liam.”

“I’m going to head to the lab,” I say a moment later. The combination of coffee and my Dad’s pep talk has me ready to plow forward. I’m ready to start reading even though I have no chapter or page number to start at.

“I’ll come by soon.” Dad may have to wait for the others, to communicate his plan for the day to each as they wake up. “Oh, and Seamus... I love you.”

“Thanks Dad. I love you too.”

I’m surprised that the lab feels so comfortable. For the last few weeks, it had felt like a prison. After my reactor was built, the time I spent here was forced and uninteresting. Then for a while it felt like nothing, a cold collection of stuff just around me. Now it feels like home. I know where everything is and have the freedom to do whatever I want. But reading is on my agenda for today.

Going through screen after screen of information, it is laughable what our country considered “top secret.” I’ve seen a report from a guy who claimed he could prove there is rainfall on a planet outside our solar system. There is another one that says the material found in Roswell, New Mexico, originated from outside the atmosphere but was terrestrial in composition and man-made. How could any of this affect our national security?

I wonder if other countries kept discoveries specific to their geographies as classified as the United States did. How far along might the human race be if we had had a true global discovery community? No politics or threat of violence. If America’s subatomic research had gone into the same database as Japan’s deep-sea discoveries? Students, housewives and scientists alike free to read, learn and hypothesize on a myriad of topics.

Instead we had politicians and governments that created fear and distrust. Instead of marveling at the unknown, every new discovery was assumed to be capable of destruction. The simplest things contorted into potential weapons of mass destruction. The global ruling class may have been representative of society, but they did not represent the best of humankind.

After some more reading, I need another cup of coffee. It’s only midmorning but I need help keeping my eyes open. For some reason, the coffee in the lab is not as good as the coffee in the dorm. It’s like it tastes bad to remind me that it is only another lab tool. While I’m contemplating a walk across the parking lot for some good coffee, William walks through the door.

“I hope there’s coffee in here. After last night, I can barely keep my eyes open,” he says.

“Full pot right here,” I offer and step back from the coffee pot. “But I have to warn you, it’s terrible.”

“Of course it is.” He has a big tired smile. “Why couldn’t some genius invent good lab coffee? I could use some fresh air and your eyes look like they could use some natural light,” William says, walking toward the door.

Outside the sun is warm and the breeze is gentle. It doesn’t feel like our lives are at risk. I’ll have to look through the database for a psychological section. They seem to have studied everything else. There must be a whole section on the projected mental impact on survivors of a catastrophic global event. I wonder if they had a scenario where so many things were left intact. It probably wouldn’t help, but it would be interesting to read.

“You know, the timing can be unfortunate, but we all make mistakes,” William says. He may be assuming that I blame Jane or just trying to ease my fear, not knowing everything has always scared me.

We sit quietly for a few minutes drinking coffee. My mind wanders from the database to Jane and on from there. It’s still mental chaos. Do I make things right socially and on the emotional level and prepare for failure? Should I keep working and sacrifice my relationships and my sanity on the off-chance that I can help find a way to save us all from the advancing virus? Can I do this on my own or do I partner with Jane and Cassandra?

William is getting to his feet. “I need to get some sleep.” The coffee had merely delayed the inevitable in him. After a few steps, he turns and looks at me. There is a long pause before he speaks. “If you truly believe that Jane is evil and was gleefully plotting the extinction of our species, then speak with your father and suggest we execute her immediately. If that is not the case, you must find a way to accept her and move forward. I haven’t known her for long, but she is not malicious. She’s just not cut out for dealing with the information she possesses,” he says. I don’t have an immediate answer for that.

I return to the lab and spend the rest of the day in a state between confusion, awe and jealousy. There are so many contradictory conclusions and surreal propositions that the database reads like fiction in parts. But I cannot fault the scientists whose work is represented. They have clearly stated hypotheses, well-documented facts, and scientifically justified assumptions.

The blame lies with the politicians and faux scientists that commissioned this work. Their goal was to advance their own causes and individual well-being. Propaganda and half-truths were used to warp science to fit their preconceived notions. Instead of having these brilliant scientists work on the myriad issues affecting the world, they were directed to causes that would generate wealth and material goods for a select few. 

My will to push on through the night does not exist. When I get home, the adults are all in the dining room. Some are reading, some snacking, and Grace is doodling on a sheet of paper. I want to ask if they have found anything but the obvious answer is no. While Dad has tried to remove the burden of survival from my shoulders, I feel like I am letting them down by going to bed with no answers.

“Good night everyone,” I say as I stand humbly in the doorway. I’m not sure what to expect. I hear a few ‘good nights’ and turn to leave.

“Oh, and Seamus?” It’s Mom. I turn back to look at the room as she says, “I love you.”