Plague Planet (The Wandering Engineer) (43 page)

“In the first two hours he said he noted inflamed lymph nodes,
which are a given since they are under attack. Fever of thirty eight celcius
plus, muscle aches, malaise, headache, and prostration, nausea, vomiting, and
back ache.”

“You're describing a cold, or influenza,” Malcolm said.

“I'm not finished,” Sprite said. “Continuing, as the disease
progressed into the sixth hour, lesions on the tongue, esophagus, mouth, and
pallet. He noted the core temperature dropped to normal. The lesions had red
spots. The lesions rapidly swell with fluids and rupture.”

“By the seventh hour the skin becomes blackish, seemingly charred.
The whites of the eyes turn red, most likely from ruptured blood vessels in the
eyes. Death occurs by the ninth hour of known infection,” she said.

“How... um...”

“He watched his family die,” Sprite replied softly. “He wrote down
the symptoms and did vital sign checks until he started showing symptoms. Then
he checked his own as well.”

“He's dead?”

“Suicide. I heard the gunshot,” Sprite replied, sounding subdued.
“He set his home on fire before hand to try to contain the infection,” she
said. “He said so and I heard the crackle of the fire. Proteus confirmed it
when he passed overhead.”

“That's...”

“Brave, yes I know,” Sprite replied.

“I, do we know what that is?” Zane asked, looking at Malcolm.
Malcolm shook his head.

“I've checked the medical texts. Based on his description it's a
version of Small pox, Latin Variola Major. In this case the black pox, since
the blackened skin he described is Hemorrhagic Small Pox, one of the most
deadly,” Sprite replied.

Just about every eye was staring at the AI. “And before you ask,
there aren't many drugs in pharmacopeia that can deal with this virus. A
vaccine administered within a few hours of exposure or prior to exposure might
help. But if it's a bio-weapon like this one is than its most likely designed
to be highly resistant to vaccines and treatment.”

“Lovely,” Zane breathed, taking a deep breath. He glanced at his
boss.

“Nanotech can screen and kill the virus, but there aren't enough
regen tanks on this planet or in this system for that matter. Not enough time
to make them either,” Sprite said, this time directing her observation to the
admiral.

“One thing at a time,” Irons replied. “You indicated in your
message there was more? Why the class seven?” he asked.

“Indeed. Class seven has been tentatively confirmed with I admit
circumstantial evidence,” Sprite responded. Her avatar disappeared and an image
of Rubicon and ground zero was shown. A wire frame overlay was added, instantly
Irons picked out the obvious, that structures were missing. He swore. “After
consulting with doctor Richards, she has confirmed that the pods were in this
building,” Sprite said pointing a red arrow to a wire frame. “Which no longer
exists. That is indicative of a nanite.”

“Gobbler?”

“No, the mass readings have changed, but it's not spreading like a
normal gobbler would. I am not certain what it is. It may be viral nanotech,
after all, most of the buildings in the area are cellulose in construction.
Wood. The real virus may be using them to replicate.”

“And that means?” Zane asked in exasperation.

“Viral nanotech. Organic viruses created as nanotech weapons. The
first nanites in other words. They were used back in the early 21
^st
century on Earth in early medicine and in some minor manufacturing processes.”
Irons interjected. The group shuddered in terror. He went on to lecture them
about viral nanotech as Sprite supplied a slide show of microscopic images of
the viruses. “It's better than gobblers, but not much.”

“Gobblers?”

“Nanites designed to tear everything apart at the molecular level.
They can literally tear a star system apart given enough time.”

“Oh my!” They were past the point of being shocked, or thought
they had until he'd told them that.

Irons nodded grimly.

“Are you sure it's viral nanotech?” They went over the description
patiently, knowing he wasn't a medical expert.

“Nanites! We can't fight them! Who...”

“Actually, we fight fire with fire,” Irons replied.

“But we don't have any! And even if we did, to release such
monsters...” Nurse Marlone shivered in terror. Others nodded.

Irons waited for them to finish and then looked at her. “Nanites
are in many things ma'am, from regen tanks, to replicators to, well, me.” He
held up his right arm. The men and women around the room stared at him. The
doctor nearest him nearly tipped his chair over trying to back away.

“You are doctors, people of medicine. Start acting like that
folks,” Irons growled.

“They're people Admiral,” Helen Richards replied. She was only
slightly shaken. “People are people, it takes a little while to get over the
initial hind brain reaction. Please have patience,” she said, pursing her lips
wryly at that statement.

“I'm not a leper, I am an officer of the Federation. Believe it or
not, nanites were much more common then you thought, even in my time, though
yes, even in my time people reacted much in the way you did. For the same
reason,” he said, remembering the lessons from history.

“The nanites in my body are my protection. They keep my body
functional along with my other implants and act as a rather aggressive immune
system. I am the only, well, no, Bane may be too...” Irons scowled and then
shrugged the thought off. “As I was saying, I'm immune to this and any virus on
the planet.”

“Nice to be you,” Zane muttered.

“Yes and no,” Irons replied. “Let's just say it's all complicated,
classified, and then leave it alone. I do want to add that I have the medical
texts, and in cleaning out your maintenance room I found another damaged
database and added it to the net,” he nodded to Sprite.

“Which I and most likely the people here will thank you for
admiral, eventually,” Sprite said dryly. “But probably not now. I don't think
they're over the nanites just yet.”

“Which is a problem. A robotic nanite would be an easy kill. We'd
use an EMP. Here we can't.”

“I'm sorry, EMP?” Helen asked. “What is it and why can't we use
it?” she asked.

“EMP, Electromagnetic Pulse. A lot of concentrated radiation in
the form of radio waves doctor, the burst of electrons scrambles electronics.”

“Ah.”

“Which doesn't apply here since these seem to be viral in nature.
So that's out. Plasma is our best option now.”

“A plasma bomb? Or, um, nuclear?” Zane asked.

“I'd prefer neither until we have more intel actually,” Irons
replied. “Though we should prepare for either just in case.” He frowned. “The
EMP would fry everything electronic, every electronic brain, and any electronic
device friend or foe in a given area. But this is more than that, more than the
one vector. We need to get a handle on both or we'll lose both.”

“Two battles on two fronts,” Sprite added.

Irons held up three fingers. “Three, the public too. We need to
keep them calm, keep the streets clear.”

“True.”

“So, what's the plan?”

“We need samples.”

“You said that before.”

“Yes I did and that hasn't changed. But we can get started on
antibiotics, anti-contamination materials, Pressure suits, masks, and
education. We can plan. Right now Hank and I are working on a sample drone.
It's going to be tight, I want it done by dawn.”

“It can't range from here admiral,” Sprite reminded him. He
grimaced.

“That's true,” he said with a nod. “Which means we've got to get
it close enough to launch. Sin City is on its outer edge. It's a one way
flight, I don't dare bring it back. We can crash the sucker into ground zero
when we are done with it,” he said.

“
If
it works,” Zane said.

“Oh it'll work, I've built thousands, the design is sound. I'll
check it out thoroughly before we launch it,” Irons replied.

“But what about the other stuff you mentioned? We can't do
both...”

“Actually we can, I made another replicator. As soon as we're done
here and
if,
” he glanced at nurse Marlone. “If I have enough materials,
I'll make more. Probably more than one. We can set each up to run a specialized
task.”

He sent a mental command to Sprite to relay to Phoenix. He didn't
want to have all his eggs in one basket, but didn't want to say anything here.
Sprite didn't say anything but nodded subtly. He needed a backup in case the
Sin City drone failed.

“What else can we do?” an unfamiliar doctor asked.

“We can work on the vaccine for smallpox. I have the blueprints,”
Sprite reported. “I can forward them to you,” she said.

The Veraxin signaled assent. “And what else?”

“The authorities are trying to coordinate the evacuation of Hazard
but it's stalled. There's nothing we can do there except brief any medics still
in the area on what to watch out for,” Sprite replied.

“Why is it stalled?”

“Single road between Hazard and Sin City. Single lane road, thanks
to Hodges of course. He didn't like money slipping through his fat pudgy
fingers,” Zane replied in disgust. “I've been on it, it's a,” he looked at
Helen and the others in apology. “A bitch, no offense, in the dark?” he shook
his head. “With a hair pin turn half way there to get around goose neck hill?”
he shook his head again.

“According to the reports I've compiled there have been several
major accidents on the road. People have begun abandoning their vehicles to
move out on foot,” Sprite reported.

“Shit,” Zane sighed, covering his face with his hands. Someone
nearby patted him on the shoulder.

“Someone named Cooter is trying to get through the mess but since
it is a single lane road in the dark it's not easy he said. He has been cussing
up a blue streak on the radio,” Sprite replied, sounding both exasperated and
amused. “Apparently he had been trying to drive on the shoulder but had a
couple close calls and had to winch himself out of one problem already.”

“Great,” Irons replied.

“It's out of our hands. So what else can we do?” Malcolm asked
looking from the AI avatar to his boss.

“Train. Get some food and rest if you're too frazzled,” Helen said
getting up. “I'm going to do some more research.” The others hastily got up as
she left.

Irons grunted and nodded to Marlone. She didn't meet his eyes but
shrugged under her sweater. He frowned impatiently but then sighed as Zane came
over to buttonhole him about screening procedures.

...*...*...*...*...

Fat Larry was doing his best not to look panicked. He tried to
keep a lid on it, it was hard though. This situation... you couldn't bribe or
threaten a damn virus! Couldn't muscle it, couldn't get others to do something,
he was at the mercy of something he couldn't see.

The usual reminder of 'never see em sweat, never let em see you
bleed' ran through his mind. People turned on you if you showed a sign of
weakness in other words. Hodges had borrowed some of his people. He'd half a
mind to stage a coup, but knew it would never hold.

He had his family in his basement safe room. He forced himself to
not let his people cluster. He did try to find a way out though, felt like a
Denubian kangaroo rat in a trap.

He was seriously pissed at Books, muttered that if he survived it,
it wouldn't be for long. He'd have to think of something appropriately slow and
painful though. Hell, he'd ask Hodges, but he didn't want the fat bastard to
take him down right along with Books.

...*...*...*...*...

Solaximara spotted an opportunity to further his career but was
soon overwhelmed by the desperate situation. He quickly dropped any attempt at
gaining much from the situation when the full gravity of the situation
penetrated his calculating brain. Any effort at self-service would only hinder
his future efforts he realized. He signaled his supporters to lend every hand
they could and then did so himself, making sure he was publicly seen doing so.
After all, the effort could be pointed to down the road... if they survived
this mess.

...*...*...*...*...

Helen stared off out the window as the sun started to rise. She
heard someone tap their knuckles on her door but didn't respond. A voice
cleared. “Yes, Admiral,” she asked, turning.

“I didn't know you knew it was me,” Irons replied, clearly amused.
If he was frazzled he wasn't showing it.

“I'm fine.” she adjusted her smock. She'd changed her clothes once
already, fortunately she kept a couple changes on hand for cases such as this.
Though she'd never imagined something of this magnitude. “How are we going to
make this, um, plasma bomb?”

“Easy, I'll make it. But first we need intel,” Irons replied with
a shrug.

She eyed him for a long moment. He came over and rested his hands
on the back of her visitor's chair. She indicated it with a tilt of her head
but he shook his head slightly. “I'll stand thanks,” he said with a smile.