Death and The Divide (2 page)

Her cheeks flamed hot. He knew she worked night and day on her studies and helping him. She had no time for a love life. “Parasites, of course.”

He looked up and gestured for her to approach, staring at her in that imperious manner sort of looking down his nose at her. “Very well, what has the possibility of being interesting?”

She strode across the room and handed him her pad. “There’s been some unusual activity among animals in the South along the Gulf of Mexico.”

As he read the stories, his brows came together, a clear sign this issue intrigued him. She ran her tongue over her lips, waiting for his comment.

“Fascinating,” he murmured after several moments.

“Could that possibly be a parasitic infection?”

“Why not?
T. gondii
has found a way to alter brain signaling in rodents to make them more likely to seek death from predators. Horsehair worms cause crickets to commit suicide. Mutations occur constantly. Nearly a hundred years ago in 2015, a parasite was found to cause cannibalism in a species of fresh water shrimp.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his bulky abdomen. “There’s no reason to exclude parasitic involvement in something of this nature. Although it seems unlikely.”

She swallowed. “If a parasite caused this within these animals, what’s to stop it from having a similar effect in other species?”

He shook his head in a dismissive manner. “That sort of metamorphosis takes many years to adapt and transition.”

“Then how come you still look intrigued?”

“Because there aren’t signs of crossover in lower species that could be traced to these animals. An abrupt evolutionary change would be quite disturbing.”

“It should at least be investigated,” she said as goose bumps rose on her arms. What a nightmare if it were possible. Leaps of this nature could devastate species, upsetting the delicate balance of nature.

“True, but the only way to delve into the matter is to have some tissue samples from the birds. I don’t think much of the academic parasitology abilities in the South.”

“Don’t you have a colleague down there you could call?”

He snorted. “And what? Ask him to put a bird in the mail to us? Come on, Ria. You know the South won’t share research with the North. And the North wouldn’t appreciate my attempt at obtaining it.”

She started to tell him about her friend, but decided she should ask Carol’s permission first. The issue of sharing data across the Divide was taboo. Anything that happened in either country could only find its way to the public through publication in international scientific journals. They had no time for that. 

“What about this new member of the triumvirate who was attacked?” she asked, trying another tack. “He’s promoting the idea of more interaction. Shouldn’t we share scientific data when it comes to the common good of humanity?”

“Spoken like a true student of democracy.” He laughed, but the sound mocked her ideology. “Sure, he’s spouting regulated trade and structured tourist visits, but even that minor change is years down the road.” He rubbed his chin. “Don’t forget he was attacked. Not everyone is on board with this softer approach to the South.”

“Then how can we help figure this out?”

He shrugged. “We can’t unless something similar happens on one of our beaches. Till then, this is simply a story from the South about some dead birds and fish.” His expression hardened and he threw a stylus across his desk. “That damned war! All a bunch of political nonsense, dividing the country like that. It set us back a good fifty years in technological advances. Imagine where we’d be now if that devastation hadn’t disrupted our focus on the future and sucked resources from research? We’d probably be living on other planets by now, or at least the dimwitted Southerners wouldn’t still use archaic fossil fuels.”

It was a typical rant for him. He firmly believed politics should stay out of the way of scientific advancement. He resented how regulations slapped scientists on the wrist. He had a separate set of morals to guide his actions, which he considered higher than any political figure’s.

Further conversation was useless. She took the tech-pad he returned to her, and headed to her desk, fascinated despite her limited ability to study the phenomenon. She looked forward to Carol’s call tomorrow to learn if her friend had more news. A tight ball formed in her gut, telling her this was bigger than just some dead birds and fish.

Chapter Two

Dr. Lincoln Butler stood on a dune, frozen and aghast. He detected a brisk ocean breeze on his face and bright sunlight shining from above. These nuances he absorbed, but his mind couldn’t process the horrible sight before him. He closed his eyes a moment then scanned the horizon where oil-drilling rigs rose like buildings of a floating city across the distant water.

Huge blimp-like oil-collector transports hovered over some of the structures, uploading the black gold into their tanks to carry to the mainland. He gritted his teeth at the unwelcome sight on his beloved ocean. Overhead, military drones cruised back and forth with their sensor-rays fully extended to gather information about the disaster on the sand below. Their whirring buzz set his already frayed patience on edge. Reluctantly, he finally lowered his gaze.

Gray shapes, a large number of some sort of small whale, littered the red-stained beach of Mobile, Alabama—hole carcasses along with pieces of fins and tails with flesh attached. The smell of fish left too long in the sun blasted him, carried on a gust of wind. His stomach heaved, but he managed not to lose his lunch. Now he understood why the military had blocked off the area and removed the spectators. Only the sound of seagulls and crashing waves seemed normal on this gruesome field of death.

His team stalled at his side, their faces pale and eyes wide. One of the women cried, and one man wasn’t as successful as Linc in controlling his gut. The splatter of vomit on sand brought bile to his throat.

He swallowed and continued to the level beach, then donned his waders and stepped into the surf. His hands shook as he adjusted the strap of his sample bag over one shoulder, stunned into shock by the number of large gray bodies. A cursory scan gave him a count of at least fifty, around forty pounds each. He reached the first one, only knee-deep in the salty water. Its tail had been ripped off.

Bryde’s whales. He’d seen beached whales before, but never ripped apart like these and never in such numbers. Something had attacked them in a mad frenzy. But what?

Most of the creatures appeared to have bled to death from egregious injuries. Could this have resulted from some strange shark-frenzy behavior? These mammals ate krill, shrimp and small fish that happened into their mouths. They weren’t predators. Generally peaceful and shy, this whale species occasionally swam next to boats out of curiosity, but mostly remained out of sight of man. Such violence was unprecedented.

“Linc,” his team supervisor called, a man named Jeff. “You have to see this.”

He left the whale he inspected and waded a little further until waves reached his hips. The body beside Jeff had all of its fins ripped off along with missing chunks of flesh leaving gaping holes.

“Can you believe this?” Jeff pointed to this whale’s mouth.

Linc’s stomach dropped. Unbearable. The creature had another whale’s tail in its mouth. Having no teeth, it must have clamped onto it and used brute force to rip it away. Ghastly. He’d never seen anything like it.

“Impossible,” the supervisor said. “There’s never been a report of whales attacking each other in this manner.”

“Let’s look at the rest of them.” Linc moved away, his stomach heaving again.

The story was the same with the others. Many whales still had body parts of others clamped in their mouths even as they’d bled to death themselves from their own injuries. It was monstrous.

“Let’s get samples of muscle, GI, and brain tissue from each carcass. I’m going to use the bioscanner to record the remains of one, and then we’ll call in the cleanup crew,” he called to his team, many of whom had broken down in tears. As marine biologists, they loved the sea creatures they studied, and this scene devastated them. “Use strict contact precautions. There’s no telling what caused this.”

After a couple hours, they had collected the specimens they needed. Linc motioned the crew back to their vehicles. They trudged through the sand, stripping off masks and rubber suits. “Take everything back to the lab and secure it in the containment pod. I don’t want any accidents.”

The orange sphere of evening sun touched the water to the west, casting purple and pink stripes across the clouds. His shoulders ached from the long day, and he rotated his arms in a circle. They’d begin the investigation tomorrow. For now, he and his team needed to rest and recover from this nightmare.

“Hey, boss?” One of his group, named Celia, trotted across the sand to his side. Her cheeks were stained pink from a day in the sun, and her eyes rimmed red from crying.

“Yes, what do you need, Cece?” He paused so she could catch up.

“I was thinking, doesn’t this sound similar to what happened to the gulls in Florida, and those dolphins in Texas?”

He frowned. “I read about that yesterday. Something about a bunch of them attacking each other and dying, right?”

She nodded. “I know it’d be odd for gull deaths to be related to whales, but stranger things have happened. Maybe we should consider the cases might be linked.”

“You’re right,” he said. “Good thinking. Tomorrow I’ll look up who is in charge of those investigations and hopefully we can collaborate on our findings.”

She managed a half smile. “Okay. Good. Thanks.”

“Go get some sleep.” He patted her on the back.

“Jeff, make sure those specimens are secure before you leave,” he called.

“Will do, boss,” Jeff said with a waved salute.

He’d go with them, but he had a secret meeting with the IPP tonight and he couldn’t miss it. The group was making headway with its propaganda campaign. Unfortunately, they still had some members who tended to more radical ideas, advocating violence. He wanted to make sure that element didn’t make any inroads.

After a stop at a quick food outlet, he sped from Mobile to Montgomery. He checked his dashboard control panel. He’d make it in time if no accidents blocked highway lanes. This road hadn’t installed navigation tracks yet, and humans sure loved to speed through here.

He arrived five minutes before the meeting started. Someone had chosen a house on the outskirts of town in a wooded area as tonight’s designated spot. He had no idea who owned it. After passing several men with double barrel blasters guarding the long driveway, he parked among a field of other vehicles. A few men and women milled about on a porch that ran across the front of the house. They froze and glanced to the drive when he pulled in, then resumed their conversations when they identified the newcomer.

His friend, Jack, came down the porch steps and shook his hand. He was about fifty with black hair graying at the temples. He maintained a commanding, charismatic presence that drew many followers. “Glad you made it. What happened in Mobile?”

Linc shuddered then gave a brief description of the tragic scene. “One of my team suggested it might have some link to the seagull incident in Tampa and the dolphin killings in Texas. That would mean this is a bigger issue than a random anomaly of nature. I have to admit, the similarities of the occurrences are little too coincidental for my peace of mind. I mean, we’re talking about animals attacking their own. The basic rules of survival of the species should eliminate such evolution.”

Jack put a calming hand on his shoulder and guided him toward the house where others also made their way. “This is disturbing. Any ideas what could cause animals to attack in that manner?”

Linc rubbed his forehead. “Not yet. We’ll have a look at the tissue samples tomorrow, and I’m going to contact whoever has the bird and dolphin remains. If this is cross species, we could have a catastrophe on our hands.”

“I hear you. We’ll make sure the members are aware of this situation in all districts of the South. National disasters have to be accounted for in our planning.”

“Any new ideas for a takeover?” Linc asked. The Independent Progressive Party was not allowed a legal place in the South’s political system, but the underground movement had grown over the past ten years. They actually stood a chance to replace the ultra-conservative leadership that currently ran the government. They hadn’t conducted an official meeting of the leadership in two months, so he suspected some inside discussions may have led to opportunities not yet made public to the general membership.

His friend grinned. “You’ll have to wait to hear with everyone else, my friend.”

After guards scanned their I.D.’s, they gathered in a large underground bunker where lines of chairs awaited in auditorium style with a podium at the front of the room. Chairs scraped the floor, and murmurs faded as members took their seats.

Jack stood before them and held up his hands, his commanding presence ending any remaining conversations. A heavy sense of anticipation weighted the silence that enveloped the room. Linc sat near the rear and leaned forward in his chair, eager for news. Jack had also asked him to monitor members’ reactions during meetings. Rumors of dissidents had the leader worried.

“Greetings, fellow members,” his friend said. His deep voice penetrated the silence without a microphone. “As you know, we have not called a local meeting in a couple of months. That’s because I had to travel to a gathering of our supreme council a few weeks ago. What I have to tell you tonight is a result of the information I received there.”

A few murmurs rippled through his audience until he raised a hand, his expression solemn.

“I’ll get right to the point. The leaders of the seven districts of IPP have decided the time has come to put our well-laid plans into action and initiate the peaceful coup of the government we have waited to launch for some time.”

A general cheer went up, and people came to their feet while a few grumbles caused a disruptive undercurrent. Linc glanced among the members, seeking the origin of the dissenting sounds. He spotted a few disgruntled faces that didn’t surprise him.

Jack made a motion for the group to settle, and when they resumed their seats, he continued. “Yes. I’m thrilled as well. Of course, this will not happen overnight, but know that the orders are given to proceed. When we know more of our local involvement, I will give you each specific assignments. The main action at this point is final infiltration of the capital forces and the presidential staff. We are confident that this can be a complete takeover of the executive offices and provide no route for a meaningful counterattack.”

A woman raised her hand, and Jack pointed to her. “Chairman, this is great news, of course, but can we be sure that the opposition won’t defeat our attempt? If we fail, we all face death penalties.”

He nodded, his expression appropriately serious. “I appreciate your concern, Joyce. I’m sure it’s one we are all thinking. Rest assured that we carefully planned this campaign over the past two years, taking into account every angle of retaliation. The takeover of the federal offices will coincide with local action. The military will be made ineffective, leaving us in complete control. We know the majority of the citizens want a more moderate governing body, but voting won’t cleanse congress or the local government leaders given the way they have managed to structure the voting laws. Once we have our people in control and can repair the system, we’ll have the power of the people on our side, as well. Fair and equitable elections will return this country to a government of the people instead of the wealthy.”

One of the men who Linc had noted making disparaging comments stood. “Chairman, are you certain this can be done peacefully? I just don’t think they’ll give up so easily. Are we prepared for violence in the event plans don’t go the way we want? I think an armed takeover would be more likely to succeed, and I’m not the only one. We don’t want to have worked all this time and fail because we’re afraid of spilling a little blood.”

A few other men around him muttered agreement.

Jack’s smile became a terse, forced line. “As I said, Carlton, we’ve engineered this for over two years to be a peaceful takeover. Killing our fellow citizens is not what we’re about. This is to force a readjustment of the laws enacted through voter suppression advocated by the wealthy ten percent. The Republic will stand, but equality will be restored.”

“I just think we should have some military backup if things go wrong. That’s what’s always been successful in the past,” Carlton said and lowered to his seat.

A buzz of conversation followed this exchange. Jack let it continue for a few minutes, then waved a hand to regain order.

“Once I can lay out the entire sequence of events, I’m sure you’ll see that the progression will leave no opportunity for violent retaliation.” The leader resumed his genial smile. “Carry this information to your personal groups and prepare them to be ready for orders within the next two months. Any other questions?”

The meeting then turned to general matters of recruitment and local activity. Their propaganda had gained traction across social media outlets. Some members had received attention from government compliance officers about their posts, but none had been arrested so far. The officers had simply issued warnings about their duty to support the Republic, and the dangers of sedition.

Linc remained in the back, observing reactions and interchanges. He couldn’t help thinking about his brother. Maybe this initial change wouldn’t make a difference, but it paved the way for a future where they eliminated inequalities and past prejudices. Linc’s involvement in this group was a tribute to his dead brother, and he’d make sure it succeeded.