Authors: Kyle Kirkland
"
Kraig?"
At first Kraig thought the voice belonged to Chet, but it was too high-pitched. The caller was female. Kraig listened to his name repeated a few more times over the speaker before he mustered enough energy to answer. He hadn
't even heard the warning signal indicating that a call had been patched through.
"
Yes, Cecily?"
"
All the Micro team's diagnostic tests are completed. We're back in our suits and moving into the zone now, along with a contingent of National Guard troops, to collect test samples from the people."
If Cecily was worried about the results of her test she hid it well. But she wouldn
't be worried, would she? Kraig decided to try and be upbeat, optimistic. "Good," he said cheerily. "Be safe."
"
Word is spreading that the zone is going to open up tomorrow afternoon."
Kraig said nothing.
"Just between you and me, that's a bunch of crap, isn't it, boss?"
It
's the director's crap, not mine.
"
You never know, Cecily. It could happen. It all depends on the test results."
"
Good to hear you sound so enthusiastic," said Cecily. "But not very many people in the zone are buying it. Only those who are desperate to believe any sort of good news. Well, off we go, to the ramparts!"
"
Tallyho," muttered Kraig. He killed the connection. It was impossible to tell when that woman was being serious and when she was satirical. Not from the voice, nor—if he could have seen it—from her convoluted expression.
Kraig sat quietly in his office, listening to his breathing. It became more and more regular. When he looked up again, forty minutes had passed.
The ticker read 92.
"
Kraig?"
Kraig rubbed his eyes. Audio only from Roderick.
"Talk to me. You in the lab?"
"
Yes, I'm in the lab. You wanted to know when the diagnostic samples had started to arrive. They're here. The first batch is from the field team, the police officers, National Guard troops, and others who have ventured into the zone."
"
How long is it going to take? I mean
really
going to take."
"
You heard the announcement, I gather."
"
Chet is setting them up for another hard fall. Again. Christ! Doesn't that fool ever learn?"
"
If you're willing to hear my assessment, I'll offer you an explanation—though far be it from me to explain the director's actions."
"
Somebody ought to."
Roderick paused.
"It's a matter of cooperation. How do you expect people to show up for the testing if they don't feel it's worth it?"
"
So what's going to happen when we don't open the zone tomorrow?"
"
You're assuming that most of the people will test positive, as we both fear."
"
Naturally."
"
But we would never find out if we didn't get their cooperation to begin with. And, as you've pointed out, most of them are not in a cooperative mood after they discovered that the government had been suppressing bad news. In an atmosphere so lacking in trust, Chet and the president's staff were convinced that the only way to ensure compliance was to make an explicit promise."
"
A promise they probably can't keep."
"
Indeed. But if they didn't make it, then they'd never find out if they could open the zone or not."
"
It's too late for your logic, Rod. Besides, I'm too tired to follow it. Tell me how soon we'll find out the test results."
"
We'll know very quickly, since we've isolated the disease-causing fractionate by chromatography. Rather, one of our helper labs did. At any rate, with so many labs working simultaneously, it will take a matter of hours to test each batch."
"
I don't know that I like letting those samples loose around the country."
"
Around the world, you mean. It's a global effort."
Kraig frowned.
"Jesus, if that stuff gets loose...what about an accident?"
"
A risk we have to take. If you limit testing of the samples to just our laboratory here at Bethesda, progress would be extremely slow. We don't have the resources. All shipments are protected in the most strenuous manner, I assure you."
"
So what is it? This fractionate. Any news?"
"
Negative. All we know is that it's a complicated molecule."
"
A complicated molecule," repeated Kraig tiredly. "It's some damn complicated molecule, all right."
"
And a fascinating one. It burrows its way into the brain by an as yet unknown mechanism. It causes a bizarre pathology by an as yet unknown mechanism. It replicates by an as yet unknown mechanism."
"
It's alive," supplied Kraig, "but it can't be."
"
Exactly." Roderick's voice, though gravelly with exhaustion, struck an exuberant note.
Kraig thought for a moment.
"What's the throughput on the diagnostic test? Can we do a lot more?"
"
You're thinking about testing other people, besides those in the zone?"
"
Within thirty, forty miles."
Roderick paused.
"You're talking about hundreds of thousands of people. It would take weeks, perhaps months. Too long to do any good. Besides, I don't think it's necessary. I assume you're worried about wind-blown spread of the agent."
"
What if it spreads like pollen?" Kraig didn't want to think about it, he wanted to put such a horrible thought out of his mind. But it was his job to consider worst case scenarios—and worry about them.
"
Unlikely. The pathogen in this case would be released close to the ground. Remember, it comes from infected humans and other animals—possibly by exhalation via some convoluted route involving blood circulation and the lungs, although we can't be sure. But in any case, it's not released from a significant height. And there have been no storms and little wind lately."
Kraig sighed.
"But just in case, is there any way to speed up the tests?"
"
Yes, but there's no way to predict when that may happen. Right now the diagnostic test is a bioassay, which takes time. Until we identify the molecule, the bioassay is the only test we've got—it's the only way we can be certain that a sample tests positive."
"
I was afraid of that."
"
We're doing the best we can. And I've got plenty of work to do—"
"
Rod, before you go." Kraig bit his lip. "I've got a meeting at noon with the pols."
A moment of silence passed.
"I'm sorry," said Roderick, "there's little more that I can tell you. Our chemists are analyzing this molecule and we will know its components shortly. But I doubt that this will tell us much. What we need is the molecule's structure."
Kraig had suspected as much
. The function of almost all biological molecules stems from their structure, which was particularly true of complex molecules like the one they were dealing with here.
"
I'll bet," said Kraig, "this molecule isn't going to be easy to crystallize."
"
There's no reason to be defeatist. It's possible that we can coax it into a crystal so that we will be able to perform X-ray crystallography. I fully acknowledge that many biological molecules are notoriously difficult in that regard, but even so, we have spectroscopy and a host of other tools that will yield some information."
"
I need a timetable. I know you can't be precise—"
"
Exactly," snapped Roderick, "so it's better left unsaid. You must make those people understand that scientific research does not follow an orderly progression. It's not as if we can allot a certain period of time for this, another period of time for that. The pathway to important discoveries is always chaotic."
Kraig sighed again, deeply.
"They're worried. Same as me."
"
We'll do everything humanly possible to save the twenty thousand people—"
"
That's not the worst of it."
"
Tell that to the people in the containment zone," said Roderick sharply.
Startled, Kraig was speechless for a moment. Emotive statements rarely escaped the senior analyst
's lips.
"
I know it's been a catastrophe for those people," said Kraig, "better than you do, I think. All I'm saying is that the situation can get worse. Much worse."
Medburg, Pennsylvania / 11:55 a.m.
Under an open-air tent in a parking lot, Cecily watched the long line of cars forming, curling around the tent in a spiral. Red tape marked a straight lane, an empty space that intersected the spiral multiple times—the exit. Once the car's passengers were done they would leave by following the red tape. A spiral queue was an efficient use of the space of the square parking lot.
That was the plan, and Cecily hoped it would work. The idea was to get everyone
's sample as quickly as possible. Get them in, get them on the table, get them out again.
If only it were a cheek swab or blood sample instead of a tiny prick at the small of the back.
The people in the zone weren't told that they would be giving samples of cerebrospinal fluid. No need to be graphic, and besides, most of them wouldn't understand. The majority of them had never heard of CSF. But it was the only fluid on which the diagnostic tests worked.
Orders for Cecily and the other Micro people, as well as the CDC and public health workers were clear: the
"patients" were to be told as little as possible. If anybody asked, tell them it was a skin sample, a blood sample, whatever you think they wanted to hear.
Anything but the truth.
Cool, thought Cecily. This thing just keeps getting better and better.
Over her suit speaker came Lisa
's voice. "We're ready." She gave the thumbs up sign.
"
Okay," said Cecily into the microphone. "Let's see how quickly we can drain CSF out of these guys."
Bethesda, Maryland / 12:10 p.m.
"You understand, Dr. Vernolt, that we're not criticizing the Micro-Investigation Unit."
Chet nodded stoically.
By his side in the conference room was Micro's assistant director, Kraig, facing down the frowning and glowering faces that filled screens occupying every conceivable space—taped to the wall, propped against chairs, hanging from the ceiling. There was even more than last time, more than Kraig ever imagined could fit into the video conference room.
He wanted to say, People, it
's not like we started this thing ourselves so that we'd have something to do.
A woman from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services continued speaking. She was the HHS Secretary
's right-hand woman—the Secretary had been on a trip to Asia, giving pep talks to southern Chinese farmers about the need to guard against bird and swine flu, but he was on his way back. No doubt to harsh criticism about his unseemly absence in a time of crisis.
"
The number of fatalities stands at over a hundred," she said, "making this is a serious outbreak. We are concerned about containment."
"
Well," said Chet, "we have always taken this issue seriously. The early containment was in fact our Unit's initiative."
Kraig shot him a glance.
"Yes," said the woman, "for which you are to be commended. However, since we have failed so far to identify the disease or find any viable treatment regimen, it becomes imperative to contain it."
"
Of course," said Chet. The white mustache twitched.
"
What I'm asking is the number of positive diagnoses that you expect."
"
The reason I'm hesitating, ma'am, is that it's hard to estimate."
"
Surely you have some idea. The news reports were optimistic, as I recall."
Good God, thought Kraig; she believes her own PR!
"Would you say," she continued, "that they will all fit into one of the local hospitals? We can juggle patients if we have to."
Chet shook his head.
"I'm afraid I can't say."
"
Do the victims show any symptoms? And are the symptoms something we can use to get an estimate of the number of cases?"
"
No," said Chet. "No symptoms until near the very end."