Hosein Kouros-Mehr - Extinction 6

“ YOUR WIFEis in the hospital.”

Anil presses the smartphone to his right ear and covers his left as a train runs past him in the Milpitas station. “Can I speak with her?”

He struggles to hear the nurse on the other end. “…her condition…”

“Hello?” Anil shouts.

“…unconscious…”

The call disconnects as the shoddy satellite signal disappears. Once a popular device, the twenty-year-old smartphone barely functions. He tries to open the Route app but the phone crashes and switches off.

I hate this old junk.

The subway terminal is dark. Foul-smelling steam rises from a vent as rats run across the tracks. A dim fluorescent lamp illuminates a vandalized map on a wall. Anil hears an incoming metro.

“Red line to Mountain View now approaching.”

He races to the map and scans it looking for San Jose Hospital, but the words are hidden under black graffiti. The train arrives and slows to a stop.

“All aboard. Doors closing.”

Panicked, Anil runs for the platform and reaches his arm out. The hatch slams on his body. “Please stand clear of the doors.” He wrestles with all his strength to get free and forces his way into the car, falling onto the floor.

Inside, a stench of urine overwhelms him. He looks up and makes eye contact with a haggard old man. “I know who you are!” the elder screams.

Anil stands to face the homeless guy. “You’re mistaking me for someone else.”

The bum points his finger. “You’re the devil!”

Flustered, Anil ducks and runs to the next train car. He steps over empty cans and plastic trash, dodging past a couple screaming at each other. He walks through several more cars and looks back through the window until he no longer sees the man.

Breathing relief, he notices a subway map and scans it in search of San Jose Hospital, spotting it southwest of the metro stop. He tries to power on his smartphone but it does not respond.

How will I find Prisha?

The train stops in Santa Clara and Anil transfers to the green line. Ten minutes later, he arrives at the San Jose stop and finds an encampment occupying the platform. He exits and runs outside, heading southwest along a crumbling road. He cuts through an abandoned factory and crosses a rusty metal bridge over the Coyote River.

A hospital comes into view. Anil stops in the middle of an empty highway to catch his breath, slumping with his hands on his knees in the blistering heat.

Prisha, please be okay.

He stares down at the weeds growing from the cracked concrete, spotting faded white lines that once divided the automobile lanes. He pants as he tries to gather himself. Seconds later, he runs towards the emergency room.

Inside the cramped lobby, dozens of patients anxiously wait for a doctor. Short of breath, Anil approaches a reception area and talks to a speaker in the wall. “I’m here… for… Prisha Anaya.”

A slip of paper emerges from a slot. “Complete this form,” an A.I. voice says.

He scribbles on the document and holds in front of a camera. A visitor pass drops to the floor.

“Proceed to Unit 403.”

Anil places the sticker on his shirt and darts to the fourth floor. His heart beats madly as he approaches his wife’s room. He peers inside and sees her lying on a gurney. “Prisha!”

Her face is swollen and her eyes are closed. An IV line runs from her wrist to a bag of fluid hanging from a pole. A monitor tracks two pulses, one from Prisha and another from her baby.

Anil kisses his wife and presses his face against her hand. “Prisha, don’t leave me.”

Her eyes slowly open. “I won’t…” She grabs his hand and smiles.

He starts to cry. “I was so terrified! I thought the worst happened.”

“I’m sorry, this is my fault.”

“It’s fine, babe,” he says as he kisses her cheeks, “you don’t have to apologize.”

She whispers softly. “I went for a walk and I just… collapsed. Next thing I know I’m here at the hospital. They say I was out for an hour.”

“Is the baby okay?”

She stays quiet.

He wipes his tears and looks away, his hand trembling as he places it on his wife’s belly. “We’re gonna make it through this like we always do.”

“I hope so.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes before a doctor walks in. “Ms. Anaya, I have an update for you.”

Anil stands upright. “Hello Doctor, I’m Prisha’s husband. What’s the situation?”

“We’ve completed our tests, and it seems you fell and suffered a concussion. The baby is fine. You were lucky this time.”

Prisha sighs in relief. “Thank God.”

Anil grabs his wife’s hand. “Can she go home, Doctor?”

“Yes, you can leave the hospital in a few hours. I would advise strict bed rest until your delivery. Pre-eclampsia is a life-threatening medical problem. You have a high-risk pregnancy and it’s not safe to walk around unattended.”

The doctor draws the curtain and leaves. The whooshing sounds of the heart monitor fill the air. Anil closes his eyes and listens to his baby’s short, rapid pulses. “Our sweet baby is fine.”

She smiles. “You’ll be a great dad.”

“We will give her a good life. I’ll do whatever it takes to provide a bright future for her. She will be a shining star.”

Prisha tries to stand. “Let’s go home now.”

He guides her back down. “Relax. Just rest here for a few hours. I’ll stay with you.”

“But you’re missing work.”

He grabs his bag. “That’s not true, babe. I can do my job right here.”

He takes a seat and removes his laptop. He powers on the outdated machine and hands his wife a cup of artificial apple juice.

She rejects the offer. “No thanks. It tastes rotten.”

The screen loads and Anil projects his desktop on the wall. He loads a web browser and queries for “Pre-eclampsia.” An advertisement begins.

“Nano Greens is the best vertical garden for your home. With minimal water and sunlight, you’ll have basil, lettuce, and cabbage ready to eat when you want. Order today—”

“What the heck is that?” Prisha asks.

“Nano Greens? It seems like a good idea.”

“No, why did a commercial play just now?”

Anil nods. “Oh, that’s our new ad platform that launched today.”

She squirms. “You have to watch a clip every time you run a web search?”

He shrugs. “Yes, it’s part of the new Information Tariffs. They rolled it out for the War…”

“That’s ridiculous. How will watching ads help us win the War?”

“Don’t ask me. I’m not a politician.”

After a lag, the search results appear: “Pre-eclampsia is a pregnancy disorder characterized by high blood pressure and signs of organ damage.”

Anil looks at his wife. “This is a very serious condition.” He grabs her hand. “You have to be more careful, Prisha. Don’t go out on walks without someone to help you. I don’t want to lose you.”

She looks away. “I’ll be fine. Just do your work.”

He logs onto the Google portal and loads the blueprints for Project Titan. He scans his messages and calendar looking for tasks but finds them empty.

Prisha regards the projection. “Anil, what’s happening with the countdown?”

He turns to her. “Don’t know. I haven’t paid attention to it.”

“Can you track the signal?”

He loads the JPL website and opens the radio message from Barnard’s Star. A map of the Milky Way Galaxy appears on the wall. “Looks like it’s still counting down. After what happened last time, I don’t think we should mess with it.”

“When does it end?” she asks.

“Next week.”