Kyle West - Origins

“In the Old World, NASA funded the NEO Program — the Near Earth Object Program, designed to do just that. Asteroids the size of Ragnarok or larger were all accounted for, but Ragnarok went rogue, somehow. It changed course in what seemed to be an impossible manner. No one knows exactly when this occurred, but it took a while before people noticed. To this day, no one knows how it was done. But we know why it was done.”

“Why?” I asked, dreading the answer. “Why did it change course?”

“Don’t you see?” Samuel asked. “We’re being invaded.”

“Aliens?” Anna asked. “Real-life aliens? I can buy a virus. That makes sense. That is clear…”

“Nothing else explains the attacks on Ragnarok’s surface while it was still in space,” Samuel said, “or how something the size of Ragnarok could suddenly change course like it did.”

“Maybe something else hit it,” I said. “Another asteroid. It’s possible, right? It could have been hit and been put on a course to hit Earth.”

“The odds of that are so small that the alien scenario becomes much more likely. Given enough energy, Ragnarok’s course could have been switched. It’s mind-bending mathematically, but maybe they could do it.”

“And who are they ?” Makara asked. “Those creatures that have been attacking us? Because they don’t seem to be that smart. Their strength is in numbers.”

“I don’t know everything, and the Black Files don’t speak to that. But there does seem to be something that demonstrates intelligence, something referred to in the Files only as ‘The Voice.’”

“’The Voice?’” Makara asked. “Are you kidding me?”

Samuel shook his head. “This is the meat of the Black Files. Everything I explained was only the first twenty pages. The rest of it is about this — the xenovirus, the xenofungus, and the Voice. And a day in the future called Xenofall.”

“Xenofall?” Makara asked.

“Xenofall,” I said. “Is it what I think it is?”

“Explanation, please,” Anna said.

“Let me start at the beginning,” Samuel said. “Ragnarok hit in 2030, as you all know. Almost immediately the virus took effect. The first instances were noted as early as 2031, in Bunker 23 out in western Nebraska. It was the Bunker closest to Ragnarok, and it was the first to go offline in 2034.”

“It wouldn’t be long until others went offline, too,” I said.

“That is true,” Samuel said. “And most Bunkers failed for reasons having nothing to do with the xenovirus. Interestingly, the xenovirus’s main job is not to infect life-forms on Earth. It’s to create xenofungus.”

“Why?” I asked.

“It’s the food source for all xenolife,” Samuel said. “Yeah, xenolife will eat animals, or even people, from time to time. There are nutrients there. But even I noticed in my research that xenofungus is nutrient and calorie heavy. It is death and poison to any of us, but it sustains anything infected with the xenovirus. It could be that the xenovirus is as much an enzyme as it is a virus, an enzyme that can process the fungus and make it edible.”

“So the xenofungus is like…alien farms?” Anna asked.

“Yes. That’s a good way to think of it.” Samuel paused. “It also does other stuff. It reproduces rapidly, and can survive in very harsh environments. It doesn’t need much water. It doesn’t mind the cold, or the dryness of the Wasteland. It’s as if it’s been engineered to survive almost any sort of environment, and especially environments without much sunlight. It’s perfectly adapted for surviving in a world that is cloaked from sunlight by meteor fallout, which explains how it is able to spread so easily while everything of Earth origin dies off. We’re in the process of being transformed from Earth into something not -Earth.”

“What about the monsters?” I asked. “How does the xenovirus do that?”

“It’s all encoded in the xenovirus’s DNA,” Samuel said. “It does not have a double helix, like Earth-based life. It’s a very complicated cloverleaf structure, something that is very hard to imagine evolving in the wild — at least on Earth — which is also evidence in favor of the xenovirus’s being designed. But the cloverleaf lends certain advantages. It can hold more information. It’s more adaptable. It has the capability to mix and match genes of Earth creatures, creating entirely new forms of life — hence the crawlers. The xenovirus was created.”

“Created by whom?” I asked.

Samuel shook his head. “We couldn’t have done this. We don’t have the technology. It must have been created by an alien intelligence.”

“So you’re saying the xenovirus was planted in Ragnarok?”

“Exactly,” Samuel said.

“What about this Voice thing?” Makara asked. “You didn’t explain that.”

“It’s hard to explain. It’s like a sentience for all life-forms infected with the virus. It’s all based on the fungus, somehow. The fungus, in addition to being food, is also like a giant network. Fungus in one part of the world, as long as it is connected, can communicate with fungus in another part. It’s like a giant brain that can think — and yes, speak.”

“Speak? How?”

“Most of it is internal, and can’t be heard. The communication can’t be deciphered, much less translated in any way humans can understand. But nonetheless, it takes place. It creates sound waves, sound waves that directly affect the behavior of xenolife. During the attack on Bunker One, for example, the sound waves escalated as the Bunker began to be attacked. The Voice lends sentience to the entire invasion.”

“Can the Voice be killed?” I asked.

“You’d have to kill the xenofungus,” Samuel said. “Whether the Voice is actually connected with a physical form, the Black Files don’t say. I guess they didn’t get that far.”

“There is still so much we don’t know,” I said. “We don’t even know if we can stop this.”

“Yeah, that’s the bottom line,” Makara said. “Can we stop this? What’s the next step?” She pointed outside the lab. “Because if you tell me Lisa came out here and died, and those Files don’t tell us how to proceed, we wasted our time. We wasted a life.”

“I honestly don’t know,” Samuel said. “If this sentience, this Voice, were somehow destroyed, I guess that could make all xenolife directionless. I don’t know how we’d go about doing that.”

“Great,” Anna said. “This just gets more and more impossible.”

No one said anything. It was a lot to take in. Even though we knew where it came from, even why it was here, we were no closer to knowing how to stop the xenovirus. Nothing definitive, anyway. Kill the Voice — but how do you kill something that isn’t attached to a corporeal form?

None of this made sense. I was expecting the answer to be obvious. I was expecting something like a chemical or a drug that would kill anything that had the xenovirus — an actual cure that targeted the xenovirus, and eradicated it.

Knowing how something existed didn’t tell you how to make it no longer exist.

“Do the Files say anything else?” I asked. “Anything at all on how to kill this thing?”

“No,” Samuel said.

So that was it. If these researchers couldn’t figure anything out — in the Bunker with the biggest labs, the most computers, and most expertise — what shot did we have? We were only four. Other than pure guesswork, there was almost no hope.

Within a certain amount of time, the world would be covered with Blights. There would only be one Blight, and humanity would no longer exist.