Invasion (20 page)

Both Jonathan and Candee nodded.

“I really appreciate this, Mrs. Sellers,” Candee said.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Nancy said. “Just the fact that your parents were too busy to talk on the phone last night when I called and chose not to call back tells me something is seriously wrong. I mean they didn’t even know you stayed over.”

Nancy alighted from the van, waved to the kids, and started out toward the front entrance of Serotec Pharmaceuticals.
She could still see the stain on the sidewalk where poor Mr. Kalinov had impacted the concrete. She hadn’t known the man well since he was a relatively new employee and was in the biochemistry department, but the news had saddened her. She knew he had a family with two teenage daughters.

Entering the building, Nancy wondered what to expect. After the death the day before she was unsure how the whole establishment would be functioning. A memorial service was scheduled for that afternoon. But she immediately sensed that everything was already back to routine.

The accounting department was on the fourth floor, and as she rode up in the crowded elevator, she overheard normal conversation. There was even laughter. At first it made Nancy feel relieved that people had taken the episode in stride. But when the whole car burst into laughter about a comment Nancy hadn’t heard well enough to understand, she began to feel uncomfortable. The joviality seemed disrespectful.

Nancy found Joy Taylor with ease. As one of the more senior people she had her own office. When Nancy walked through the open door, Joy was busy at her computer terminal. As Nancy had remembered, she was a mousy person about Nancy’s size although much thinner. Nancy guessed that Candee took after her father.

“Excuse me,” Nancy called out.

Joy looked up. Her pinched features registered momentary irritation at being disturbed. Then her expression warmed and she smiled.

“Hello,” Joy said. “How have you been?”

“Just fine,” Nancy said. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember me. I’m Nancy Sellers. My son Jonathan and your daughter Candee are classmates.”

“Of course I remember you,” Joy said.

“Terrible tragedy yesterday,” Nancy said while she thought about how to bring up the issues she wanted to discuss.

“Yes and no,” Joy said. “Certainly for the family, but I happen to know that Mr. Kalinov had serious kidney disease.”

“Oh?” Nancy questioned. The comment confused her.

“Oh yes,” Joy said. “He’d been on weekly dialysis for years. There was talk of a transplant. It was bad genes. His brother had the same problem.”

“I hadn’t heard about his medical problems,” Nancy said.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Joy asked.

“Yes, there is,” Nancy said, taking a seat. “Well, it’s more that I wanted to talk with you. I’m sure it’s not serious, but I felt I should at least mention it to you. I’d want you to do the same for me if Jonathan had come to you.”

“Candee came to you?” Joy asked. “About what?”

“She’s upset,” Nancy said. “And frankly, so am I.”

Nancy noticed a slight hardening of Joy’s features.

“What did Candee say she was upset about?” Joy asked.

“She feels that things have changed at home,” Nancy said. “For one thing she said that you and your husband are suddenly doing a lot of entertaining. It’s made her feel insecure. Apparently some people have even wandered into her bedroom.”

“We have been entertaining,” Joy said. “Both my husband
and I have recently become very active in environmental causes. It requires work and sacrifice, but we’re willing to do both. Perhaps you’d like to come to our meeting tonight.”

“Thanks, but some other time,” Nancy said.

“Just let me know when,” Joy said. “But now I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Just a moment longer,” Nancy said. The conversation was going poorly. Joy was not being receptive despite Nancy’s diplomatic efforts. It was time for more candor. “My son and your daughter also got the impression that you were encouraging them to sleep together. I’d like you to know that I don’t agree with this at all. In fact I’m adamantly against it.”

“But they are healthy and their genes are well matched,” Joy said.

Nancy struggled to remain calm. She’d never heard such a ridiculous statement. Nancy could not understand Joy’s casual attitude about such an issue, especially with the burgeoning problem of teen pregnancy. Just as aggravating was Joy’s equanimity in the face of Nancy’s obvious agitation.

“Jonathan and Candee do make a cute couple,” Nancy forced herself to say. “But they are only seventeen and hardly ready for the responsibilities of adult life.”

“If that is how you feel I will be happy to respect it,” Joy said. “But my husband and I feel that there are a lot more pressing issues, like the destruction of the rain forest.”

Nancy had had enough. It was plain to her that she was not going to have a rational conversation with Joy Taylor. She stood up. “Thank you for your time,” she
said stiffly. “My only recommendation is that perhaps you might pay a little more attention to your daughter’s state of mind. She is upset.”

Nancy turned to leave.

“Just a moment,” Joy said.

Nancy hesitated.

“You seem to be extremely anxious,” Joy said. “I think I can help you.” She pulled out the top drawer of her desk and gingerly lifted out a black disc. Placing it in the palm of her hand, she extended it toward Nancy. “Here’s a little present for you.”

Nancy was already convinced that Joy Taylor was more than a little eccentric, and this unsolicited proffering of a talisman just added to the impression. Nancy leaned over to take a closer look. She had no idea what the strange object was.

“Take it,” Joy encouraged.

Out of curiosity Nancy reached for the object. But then she thought better of it and withdrew her hand. “Thank you,” she said, “but I think I should just leave.”

“Take it,” Joy urged. “It will change your life.”

“I like my life as it is,” Nancy said. Then she turned and walked out of Joy’s office. As she descended in the elevator she marveled over the conversation she’d just had. It wasn’t anything like she’d expected. And now she had to worry about what she was going to tell Candee. Jonathan, of course, was a different story. She’d tell him to stay the hell away from the Taylor residence.

THE DOOR TO DR. MILLER’S OFFICE OPENED AND BOTH
Pitt and Cassy got to their feet. A balding yet relatively
youthful man walked into the room ahead of Dr. Miller. He was dressed in a nondescript, wrinkled gray suit. Rimless glasses were perched on the end of a broad nose.

“This is Dr. Clyde Horn,” Sheila said to Cassy and Pitt. “He’s an epidemiological investigative officer from the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta. He works specifically for the influenza branch.”

Clyde was introduced to Pitt and Cassy in turn.

“You two are the youngest-looking residents I think I’ve ever seen,” Clyde commented.

“I’m not a resident,” Pitt said. “In fact I’m only starting medical school in the fall.”

“And I’m a student teacher,” Cassy said.

“Oh, I see,” Clyde said, but he was obviously confused.

“Pitt and Cassy are here to put the problem in a personal perspective,” Sheila said as she motioned for Clyde to take a seat.

They all sat down.

Sheila then made a presentation of the influenza cases that they had been seeing in the emergency room. She had some charts and graphs which she showed to Clyde. The most impressive was the one that showed the rapid increase in the number of cases over the previous three days. The second most impressive dealt with the number of deaths of people with the same symptoms associated with various chronic disease like diabetes, cancer, kidney problems, rheumatoid arthritis, and liver ailments.

“Have you been able to determine the strain?” Clyde asked. “When you spoke with me on the phone, that had yet to be done.”

“It still isn’t done,” Sheila said. “In fact we still haven’t isolated the virus.”

“That’s curious,” Clyde said.

“The only thing we have consistently seen is marked elevation of lymphokines in the blood,” Sheila said. She handed Clyde another chart.

“Oh my, these are high titers,” Clyde said. “And you said the symptoms are all typical flu.”

“Yes,” Sheila said. “Just more intense than usual, and generally localizing in the upper respiratory tract. We’ve seen no pneumonia.”

“It certainly has stimulated the immune systems,” Clyde said as he continued to study the lymphokine chart.

“The course of the illness is quite short,” Sheila said. “In contrast to normal influenza, it reaches a peak in only hours, like five or six. Within twelve hours the patients are apparently well.”

“Even better than they were before the illness,” Pitt said.

Clyde wrinkled his forehead. “Better?” he questioned.

Sheila nodded. “It is true,” she said. “Once recovered the patients exhibit a kind of euphoria with increased energy levels. The disturbing aspect is that many also behave as if they have had a personality change. And that is why Pitt and Cassy are here. They have a mutual friend who they insist is acting like a different person subsequent to his recovery. His case may be particularly important because he might have been the first person to get this particular illness.”

“Have there been any neurological workups done?” Clyde asked.

“Indeed,” Sheila said. “On a number of patients. But everything was normal including cerebrospinal fluid.”

“What about the friend, whatever his name,” Clyde said.

“His name is Beau,” Cassy said.

“He has not been examined neurologically,” Sheila said. “That was planned, but for the moment he’s unavailable.”

“In what ways is Beau’s personality different?” Clyde asked.

“In just about every way,” Cassy said. “Prior to his flu he’d never missed a class. After recovery he hasn’t gone to any. And he’s been waking up at night and going outside to meet strange people. When I asked him what he’d been talking to these people about, he said the environment.”

“Is he oriented to time, place, and person?” Clyde asked.

“Most definitely,” Pitt said. “His mind seems particularly sharp. He also seems to be significantly stronger.”

“Physically?” Clyde asked.

Pitt nodded.

“Personality change after a bout of flu is uncommon,” Clyde said while absently scratching the top of his bald pate. “This flu is unique in other ways as well. I’ve never heard of such a short course. Strange! Do you know if the other hospitals in the area have been seeing the same problem?”

“We don’t know,” Sheila said. “But finding that out is much easier for the CDC to do.”

A loud rap on the door got Sheila out of her chair. Having left specific instructions not to be disturbed, she was concerned a medical emergency had arrived. But instead it
was Dr. Halprin. Behind him stood Richard Wainwright, the chief lab tech who had helped draw up the charts Sheila had been presenting. Richard was red-faced and nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Hello, Dr. Miller,” Dr. Halprin said cheerfully. He had completely recovered from his illness and was now the picture of health. “Richard just informed me that we have an official visitor.”

Dr. Halprin pushed into the room and introduced himself as the hospital president to Clyde. Richard self-consciously remained by the door.

“I’m afraid you’ve been called here under less than forthright pretenses,” Dr. Halprin said to Clyde. He smiled graciously. “As Chief Executive Officer any requests for CDC assistance has to come through my office. That’s stated in our bylaws. This is, of course, unless it is a reportable illness. But influenza is not.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” Clyde said. He stood up. “It had been my impression we’d received a legitimate request and all was in order. I don’t mean to interfere.”

“No problem,” Dr. Halprin said. “Just a minor misunderstanding. The fact of the matter is we don’t need the services of the CDC. But come to my office, and we can straighten it all out.” He put his arm around Clyde’s shoulders and urged him toward the door.

Sheila rolled her eyes in frustration. Cassy, already distraught and sensing they were about to lose a significant opportunity, stepped in front of the door, barring egress. “Please, Dr. Horn,” she said. “You must listen to us. There is something happening in this city. People are changing with this illness. It’s spreading.”

“Cassy!” Sheila called out sharply.

“It’s true,” Cassy persisted. “Don’t listen to Dr. Halprin. He’s had this flu himself. He’s one of them!”

“Cassy, that’s enough!” Sheila said. She grabbed Cassy and dragged her aside.

“I’m sorry about this, Clyde,” Dr. Halprin said soothingly. “May I call you Clyde?”

“Certainly,” Clyde said, nervously looking over his shoulder as if he expected to be attacked.

“As you can see this minor problem has caused significant emotional upset,” Dr. Halprin continued as he motioned for Clyde to precede him into the hall. “Unfortunately it has clouded objectivity. But we’ll discuss it in my office, and we can make arrangements to get you back to the airport. I’ve even got something I want you to take back to Atlanta for me. Something I think will interest the CDC.”

Sheila closed the door behind the departing figures and leaned against it. “Cassy, I don’t think that was wise.”

“I’m sorry,” Cassy said. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s because of Beau,” Pitt explained to Sheila. “He and Cassy are engaged.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Sheila said. “I felt equally frustrated. The problem is: now we are back to square one.”

THE ESTATE WAS MAGNIFICENT. ALTHOUGH IT HAD BEEN
whittled down to less than five acres over the years, the central house was still standing and in fine condition. It was built in the early nineteen-hundreds in a French châeau style. The stone was a local granite.

“I like it,” Beau said. He spun in the middle of the expansive ballroom with his arms outstretched. King sat near the door as if he feared he was going to be left in the mansion by himself. Randy and a realtor by the name of Helen Bryer were standing off to the side.