Chapter Six
A People Doomed
After a time the noise of an approaching helicopter drew everyone's attention. "Well, it appears to be our rides' here, gentlemen!" the General announced. "How's the air power, Major?"
"Eight ships, sir, in orbit, twenty miles and forty miles. Six others in reserve on the ground."
"Very good, Major!" the General acknowledged.
He started walking toward the helicopter then suddenly stopped, looked skyward, and headed away to one of the unlit hangars nearby. The other officers started to follow but the General warned them back. He entered the hangar and several minutes later hurried out.
"Keep up the good work, Major!" he shouted. "I'll contact you later. The rest of you get aboard."
The General was obviously irritated but no one spoke for several minutes until the helicopter was speeding westward. Then the Lieutenant's curiosity would be held no longer. "What is it, General?" he inquired, "You just spoke with the aliens. What did they tell you?"
"They just received a general alert from the blockade Commander, at the planet Taylos. A ship matching the description of the one that crashed here was spotted slipping out of their sector, traveling in this direction. The speed and distance is about right. If it is that ship out there, we're in far more serious trouble than I imagined."
"Why?" Donald asked.
"About five hundred years ago," the General told him, "Taylos had a civil war. One ethnic group had seized power, and wanted to conquer the rest of the galaxy. The rest of the inhabitants, however, rebelled, and the conquerors were defeated. But their leader was a maniac. His people had developed a doomsday weapon, a bacteria that destroyed all carbon based life forms. When he realized he was defeated he loaded the last of his fighters with canisters of the bacteria, and spread it to the four winds... then, sat listening to his world dying.
When he was satisfied nothing would live, he opened the vents of his own fortress and destroyed what was left of his own people. Of the twenty six million people that had survived the war, less than one thousand manageed to find an anti-body and survive the epidemic.
But they were contagious and their world was contagious. They'd spread the bacteria any place they went. So they sterilized themselves and have been waiting ever since for death to claim them, like it claimed their brothers and sisters.
They have a one thousand year life span. The oldest ones are already dying. Their numbers dwindle every year. The Union, a group of civilizations that control this part of the galaxy, have sent ships to help keep the planet blockaded, until the last of them die. Then they'll sterilize it with a solar beam and repopulate it."
"And this disease is bad?" Donald inquired.
"If it gets loose," the General told him, "it will kill every living thing on Earth, plant or animal, and reduce everything to dust within a month's time. Earth doesn't have the medical resources to find an antibody."
"What are the symptoms?" the Lieutenant asked.
"A black spot appears on the skin," the General told , "that spreads rapidly. But the victim dies in minutes. As soon as the infection hits the bloodstream it's carried through the body, and the internal organs disintegrate. The only thing that will kill the bacteria is excessive radiation or, excessive heat. If the ship is breached, the bomb is the only hope mankind has."
"What's this solar beam you spoke of?" Donald asked. "Is it something the aliens could use to help us?"
The General shook his head. "They use several ships," he explained, "to generate a beam of energy from the sun. They shoot it into the planet, raising its atmospheric temperature to over five thousand. Using force shields to hold the atmosphere in, they maintain this temperature for five or six days. I don't think that would do Earth's inhabitants any good...do you?"
"No, sir," Donald agreed, leaning back in his seat. "It's hard to believe, sir," he continued, "that any intelligent being could do such a thing....release such a thing."
"Unfortunately," the General told him, "many races through the universe have suffered similar fates. The greed of some beings and their hatred of others is beyond all rational thinking. This plague has got loose twice before. The first time it killed two million beings before it was controlled, the second time a billion or more. Let's hope we're successful and Earth's population isn't added to those totals."
The Lieutenant spoke up angrily. "Dammit, sir, why don't they sterilize that world and have done with it?"
"And kill the innocent, Lieutenant, murder what remains of a dying race before it's time? Don't they have the right to live the last few years of their doomed existence in peace? If other men are fool enough to doom themselves and others, it's not their fault. They have a right to die with their own dignity in their own hour, and no one has the right to take that away from them, as long as they, themselves, don't endanger others."
"Sorry, sir," the Lieutenant came back. "I didn't think. I guess I'm scared, sir."
"I don't think you're the only one, Lieutenant," the General answered. "I think we're all pretty scared, and with damned good reason!"
"Amen!" Donald cried, "Amen, sir!"