Ejecta by William C. Dietz Page A

surprising since she’d been up until 3:00 AM combing the basement for more clues. But without success. Because if McCracken had left other materials for her to find they were well hidden. So she was standing in the kitchen drinking hot tea when the doorbell rang.
    Devlin was still clad in the same set of sloppy sweats that she’d gone to bed in. Rather than open the door she bent over to peer through the peephole instead. What she saw was a man walking towards the FedEx truck parked in the street.
    Confident that she wouldn’t be seen Devlin opened the door long enough to grab the envelope and bring it inside. The package served to remind Devlin of her responsibilities as McCracken’s executor. One of which was to send letters announcing the professor’s death to his friends, business contacts, and distant relatives. Something that should be done soon.
    But, as she was about to enter the study and begin working on the list, Devlin realized that the envelope was addressed to her. And from someone she had never heard of before. A Professor George Pappas who, judging from the return address, was a resident of Athens. Not Athens, Georgia. But Athens,
Greece
.
    Being more than a little intrigued Devlin carried the package over to the desk, plucked a pair of scissors out of the same mug that held pencils and pens, and cut the envelope open. What she found was a note attached to a second envelope. Although the message had been written in a cramped cursive the scientist was still able to decipher it.
“Dear Ms. Devlin… Mac sent this package to me, along with instructions to send it to you, on today’s date. Please give him my best. George.”
    Having read the message once, and having found it hard to believe, Devlin read it again. But the words were the same the second time around. As with the last note, the one McCracken left pinned to the Egyptian mummy, the printing looked forced. It was as if Mac had been ill or extremely stressed when he penned her name.
Why?
The scientist wondered.
Why didn’t you call me? You had my number.
    But there was no answer. So Devlin cut the second envelope open. A single sheet of paper was inside. It had clearly been composed on a computer and printed down. But, as with the mummy note, it was rife with mistakes. Even more than before—as if McCracken's ability to communicate was steadily deteriorating.
    “Sara, FIrst let me aplogiz fro all the wierdness, but its very difficult to communicaTe. as you know by now I have beeen infected by a parasite, which, neer as I can tell, oprates in a fashion similar to Sacculina carcini, in that iT is gradualy taking control of my body. It isnnt sentient, not in way we are, but it controls myy urges. And, when I try to do somthing outside scope of what it wants, it clamp down on me. Or, put another Way I don’t think it knows what I’m writing, but sees writIng as a waste of time. I trieD to call you, but it wouldn’t let me speak, you hang up. Afraiid when they find my body messages to you Destroyy, so send this. examine mummy. Compare to my autopsy. hundreds if not thousands of them on planet!!! Work hypothesis: aliens? EJECTA? Find, kiLL. Pray for meee, Mac.
    The last three words, coming as they did from a professed agnostic, brought tears to Devlin’s eyes. Now, as she reread the letter, a partial picture began to emerge. Somewhere, somehow, Mac had become infected. Subsequent to that event the invading organism had taken up residence on the professor’s upper back where it could exercise partial control over his body.
    In the meantime Mac fought back the only way he could. By trying to learn more about the parasite and ultimately taking his own life in an effort to keep the creature contained. And that Devlin knew was the key. Because all living organisms share the same overriding desire. Which is to reproduce. So the first task was to go over the last few years of McCracken’s life and determine how he'd been infected. A task, which