The White Death (25 page)

“Neurotropic doesn’t sound good,” said Nelson.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, Commander,” said Peter. “A neurotropic virus can be something as simple as the herpes disease.”

“Cold sores?” said Nelson.

“Yes,” said Peter. “Amongst other things.”

Ursula continued to stare at the data on screen.

“Peter, this isn’t as simple as the herpes virus,” she said. She gave the computer her own parameters for a neurotropic virus, and a new scan began.

“Confirmed,” said the Chinese computer. The Chinese system displayed the test results on screen for her.

“Just as I suspected,” she said. “Peter, it’s neurovirulent.”

“Not neuroinvasive?” said Peter, nearly shrieking.

Nelson looked at her, and she got the hint.

“Neurovirulent means the virus can enter the central nervous system of humans
and
cause damage there.”

“So it’s worse than neuroinvasive?” said Nelson.

“It means it’s much more difficult for our immune system to fight against, never mind trying to repair the damage to the central nervous system,” said Peter.

“It is,” said Ursula. “A lot worse. We’re talking irreversible damage here.”

She sat back, feeling uncomfortable. Clicking her pen against her teeth, she said, “No, this isn’t right.”

“Pardon?” said Peter.

“I’ve worked with viruses all my life, and I see no sign of mutation here,” said Ursula. “Nothing at all—everything seems to be fine.”

“Maybe to us,” said Peter. “But the Bernay are experts.”

“Wake up, Peter,” she said, not letting him sugarcoat it anymore. “I know what’s in front of me.”

“You think it was designed like this?” Nelson said.

Ursula nodded. “I don’t think it ever mutated. It’s designed to cause maximum genetic damage to the human body.”

“Ursula, come on,” said Peter.

“Would you rather I don’t tell you what I think? This virus was never designed to cure humanity of genetic illness.”

“Now hold on,” said Peter, angry. “I know the Council has its problems, but they don’t practice genocide. Freda would never have allowed it.”

“How do you know!?” said Ursula. “Freda is gone. I’m telling you what’s in front of us right now.”

“Layer two might be the ship that transports the genetic resequencers into our brains,” said Peter.

“Well, if that’s the case, layer three will have these resequencers,” said Ursula. “Computer, begin scanning layer three immediately. Maximum priority.”

There was another tense silence, and her own silence spoke volumes.

“Do you think this could be an attack?” asked Nelson.

“Yes, I do,” she replied, ignoring Peter’s stern look.

“I’m with you,” said Nelson. “Doesn’t feel right. Hasn’t from the very beginning.”

Peter rolled his eyes, but she kept working, waiting patiently for layer three to be decoded.

Nelson lifted a few printed images of infected humans, some of them aerial shots.

“You know what I’ve always wondered?” said Nelson.

“What?” said Peter, making his distress obvious.

“Well … how do they know who isn’t infected?” he said.

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Come on, Doc,” said Nelson. “The infected. They chase the uninfected, as if they know. They chase them off building rooftops. They die trying to infect the uninfected.”

“We have seen hundreds jump off building rooftops chasing a lone uninfected person,” said Ursula, agreeing.

“But how do they know?” said Nelson.

“Maybe they’re attracted to a particular type of pheromone in the uninfected?” suggested Peter.

“It is possible,” said Ursula. She hadn’t done much work in pheromones, but the basic principle was sound. “A virus designed for maximum spread, whatever the cost.”

“Well what’re your thoughts for a vaccine?” said Peter, quicker than she expected.

“Nothing yet. Our immune system won’t be much help.”

“Because a neurotropic virus usually evades the immune system anyway.”

Nelson looked between the two.

“Yes,” Ursula said. “The Eugenics Virus, as a whole, is a combined three-pronged attack, and we need to alter our approach from normal vaccine discovery procedures. If we disrupt the ability of each layer to communicate, then it could render the virus inert.”

“Slice the layers apart,” said Peter.

“And therefore disrupt their ability to communicate and work together.”

“But if you’re talking about not letting each of these three layers talk to each other, won’t they still operate independently?” said Nelson.

Peter grunted, something Ursula found infuriating.

“He may have a point,” said Ursula.

“Really?” said Peter mockingly.

“I can tell why she’s the more respected one,” said Nelson, finally digging back.

“Peter,” said Ursula, trying her best not to smile, “the good commander may have a point. This virus was designed by aliens. I think we have to presume each layer was constructed individually and then linked together. If that is the case, disrupting the data links may not be enough. I’m worried about layer two. If layer two was to function even if separated, then we’d still have a neurotropic virus to deal with, which can cause damage to the central nervous system.”

“I still think disrupting the links is our best option,” said Peter. “We create a vaccine with a weakened virus made up from the exact compound of the data links. The body destroys it, and then if a body is infected, the immune system will destroy those data links and send the virus into chaos.”

“I don’t think an attenuated virus would be that effective,” said Ursula. “Not for our end goal. Even if layer three is responsible for deleting the SRGAP2 genes…”

“Ursula,” he said, protesting.

“The benefits of a virus that turns the host into an uncontrollable animal who can’t be reasoned with are obvious,” Ursula said.

“Quick infection?” said Nelson.

“Yes,” she said. “The infected chase the uninfected. The virus is airborne. It’s perfect for taking over an entire species.”

“And we’ve proven how ineffective we are at trying to stop it,” said Nelson. “Governments are powerless on the frontlines.”

“Both of you really believe the Council set out to do this on purpose,” said Peter. “I can’t believe that.”

“Give me a credible counterargument,” said Ursula.

“Why not just kill us?” said Peter, looking between them. “Well? Why not? Why go to so much bother? Why would they go to all the bother of creating a virus? It makes no sense at all.”

“Now he has a point,” said Ursula. “Layer three hasn’t decoded yet.”

“It’s like waiting on the lotto numbers,” said Nelson.

“I still keep getting drawn back to layer two … this neurotropic virus. It seems so alien yet, when I look at it, so familiar at the same time.”

“You’ve seen it before?” asked Nelson.

“You said it was unfamiliar,” said Peter.

She stopped herself from speaking, closing her eyes. “It just strikes a familiar chord with me.”

“Would you hedge that it’s an Earth-based virus?” said Peter.

“No, probably not,” she said. “I can’t think why they would use one. It’d be a lot more efficient to create their own.”

“Theorize, Ursula. It’s something you’re good at.”

She wasn’t sure if her old college friend was being humorous or snide.

“What about the carrier? Any change?” he then asked.

“She,” said Ursula, “is an enigma.”

Ursula walked closer to the woman in white, becoming transfixed in her empty, cold eyes.

“There’s a full war waging insider of her, and I can’t do anything to help.”

“Doctor, you need to help the people outside now,” said Nelson, coming up behind her.

“I know.”

“Just think about it simply,” he said. “Don’t try and over-confuse it. The Eugenics Virus is made up of three layers, and at the minute, we think layer two is the layer we have to target.”

“Our goal here is to create a vaccine, yes?” she asked.

They both agreed.

“Then we work to destroy layer two,” she said. “Layer two is the virus that turns us into monsters. But not only that—it may be the vessel that allows whatever is in layer three to enter our brain. To pass the blood-brain barrier.”

“Orders?” said Nelson.

“How can I help if you can’t send me data files?” said Peter.

“I’ve a job for you,” said Ursula to Nelson. “There are over 100 illustrations on this computer of the neurotropic virus we’ve discovered. I need you to show Peter each one of them, allow him to work through them all.”

“How?” asked Nelson.

“Like this,” she said, firing her finger down on a keyboard button. The printer came to life, printing out a colored copy of each diagram. “Hold each page up to the webcam, allowing Peter to see them.”

“I feel like we’re in the Stone Age now,” groaned Peter. “CIM, sync with my computer screen and scan our database for any matches to the images about to be displayed.”

“Best we can do,” said Ursula. “Peter, the blood work of the carrier here shows she is fighting the virus, but neither side is winning. It’s more like stalemate. If I can isolate those fighting properties in her blood stream and supplement them with specific coding designed to actually focus on destroying this neurotropic virus…”

“Then the whole thing might fall apart,” said Peter.

Nelson finally understood where they both were coming from and saw the brilliant intellectual capacity of Barrington go into overdrive as she formulated everything in her mind.

“Doc,” said Nelson, “if we do this and succeed, will that mean any infected human we treat will also become … non-infectious?”

“Technically, yes,” said Ursula. “With the virus destroyed, there would be nothing left inside them to infect others with.”

“But they wouldn’t return to normal?”

“No,” said Peter.

Nelson looked to her.

“No,” said Ursula. “The damage is irreversible.” She was at pains to clarify that point, with Peter finally coming around to her way of seeing things.

“Normal,” muttered the female carrier, to their astonishment.

“Pardon?” Ursula gasped.

“Pardon,” repeated the carrier.

“She’s repeating us,” said Peter.

“Obviously,” said Ursula. “Hello?”

“Hello,” said the carrier, after a few moments staring at Ursula.

After some testing, she decided the carrier was just mimicking their behavior as the virus continued to ravage her system.

“Almost like a little baby,” said Nelson. He held up another image to the screen for Peter and CIM.

“What?” Ursula asked, confused. Nothing about this carrier reminded her of a baby.

“Mimicking its parents,” he said.

Barrington went quiet, looking at Peter, who also had the same thought. She turned to look at the ravaged woman before her. Could it really be possible?

“Just like a baby,” she finally mumbled.

“Come again?” asked Nelson.

“I wonder, can we train her again…?” said Peter.

“You’re talking about education,” said Nelson.

“I am indeed,” he replied. “Ursula…”

“We can cure them, but we cannot repair the damage,” said Ursula, furious. “We can get the virus out of their system, but the damage is done.”

“It’s not really your place to decide the fate of three-fourths of the world’s population,” said Peter. “If we can reeducate these people—”

“Peter, if we don’t find a vaccine, our race will go extinct.”

The color drained from his face. He was thinking it, of course, but to have it said out loud…

Ursula turned her back to him, looking at the woman in white. If she wasn’t successful, all this would be for nothing, including her own life.

Chapter 48

Freda’s office, despite there being no change in the temperature, felt chilly to Christopher. There was something that irked him about it now. As he looked around, the memories stung. A dozen framed photos told much more than a stranger would know. The phone beeped.

“General Richards due in five minutes,” said Sarah.

“Thank you,” he said. The general was on his way to discuss Section 51, with the absence of Freda. Christopher felt totally useless now and hated it. Everyone knew what they were doing, and he had nothing to do. How many pep talks could he really keep giving?

“CIM, date?”

“Saturday, 7.52 A.M., December 2039.”

“Locate Freda.” He was glad CIM wasn’t programmed to disobey an instruction. This must have been the hundredth time he’d asked. CIM returned the usual message, and he let out a deep sigh. Sitting down behind her desk, in her chair, he couldn’t remember a time when he felt more uncomfortable, many around the world sharing that feeling now. In a week, the human race had discovered they weren’t alone in the universe and were now facing extinction.

“General Richards is here to see you,” said Sarah.

“Send him in,” he replied, standing up to shake the general’s hand.

“I’m sorry about Freda,” began Richards. “Any ideas?”

“I wish,” he replied, sadly.

It was the first time they had seen each other since she vanished.

Richards looked as neat and well dressed as always, but his tired old eyes struck Christopher. They told a different story. “She didn’t mention anything,” he said. “The Council probably had her removed, quickly and quietly.”

“And to think, this is the organization we are dealing with,” said Richards. There were a few moments of silence as the general sat down and unbuttoned his long black overcoat.

“How’s the bombing going?” asked Christopher.

“We’ve started, but it’s a long process,” said the general. “Every square inch of the planet has to be targeted. That, and plane redeployments, faults, delays, logistics, sarin … the biggest hindrance has been losing the transporter ability from Section 51. We’re having to transport all the sarin by conventional methods.”

“But we have started?”

“Yes,” said Richards. “Around the world, American and British bombers are exterminating infected populations, but it will take years.”

“We’ll never be safe as long as one living thing is infected with this virus,” said Christopher.

“Which is why we need that vaccine.”

“Everyone here is working as fast as we can, Ernie. It’s been a godsend that Ursula survived.”

“It’s a simple miracle the infection isn’t on the American continents yet, but it will happen sooner or later. I’m more worried about the government at the moment than the virus, if I’m being honest,” said Richards.

“Why?” said Christopher. He watched Ernie get up to stretch.

“I can do more to combat this virus. Stopping civil war is more complicated,” he replied. “The government is at breaking point. Every town and city in the country is under siege from our own citizens. We don’t have the manpower to keep order on that kind of scale.”

“It’s like my grandmother told me. When things are going well, people like to consider themselves respectable, intelligent, and morally grounded. Once you add a dash of fear, a reason to hate, and threaten an expected way of life, people will search for someone to blame. When they find that someone, they’ll attack.”

“Your grandmother sounds like a wise woman,” said Richards. “What about the vaccine?”

“I’ve been told not to ask anymore,” said Christopher. Both Peter and Ursula had warned him against asking for updates every fifteen minutes. “When they know something, we’ll know something.”

“I always think it’s best to leave scientists to it. Has there been any word from the Council?”

“Nothing.”

“It worries me. Sterilization is meant to happen on Monday, and with Freda gone, I think we can assume it’s going to happen.”

“If there’s any of us left.”

“Do you want to know the very best-case scenario that can happen, but won’t?” said Richards. “I’ll tell you. We keep both North and South America free from infection, develop a vaccine, and eradicate the population of every other country in the world. We create a barren planet.”

“Yes…” said Christopher.

“And maybe we could get past the economics, the logistics—how to produce energy, how to grow food—but the people… You’re gonna have over two-thirds of the world uninhabited. We can’t rebuild the world the way we did Japan after the Second World War. So you have a vast planet open for the taking. America does not have the ability to police the planet in the way that we’d have to.”

“No rebuilding? Repopulating?” asked Christopher, surprised.

“No,” said Richards. “Europe, Asia, the Middle East—they’ll all have to remain abandoned. That’s when it will happen.”

Christopher didn’t respond immediately.

“Militants,” Richards growled. “All that glistening military hardware across the globe, in every country, up for the taking. The gold, money, supplies, weapons, ships, aircraft, missiles—everything. Hell, it’s all out there, Christopher. All waiting to be taken. With our society fractured, it’ll only get worse.”

Richards breathed heavy, and Christopher watched him clench his fists.

“Empire building, you mean.”

“Basically, and it could be disastrous. And on that note…” he said, getting up from his chair.

“I actually have a favor to ask.”

“Which is?”

Christopher knew by his tone that Richards already had an inclination for what it would be.

“Barrington.”

“No.”

“But General…”

“The president made it very clear, Christopher. There would be no rescue mission. She went of her own accord.”

“With his support,” said Christopher.

“With his permission, not his support,” said Richards. “There is a difference.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“I’m not over-exaggerating when I say every troop, tank, helicopter, and naval vessel is being used. I don’t want to lose another helicopter or special ops team. We have few enough of them as it is. The answer is no.”

“General, she came here at our request and is still, even now, working to help us.”

“Do you realize how impossible it would be to rescue her?” asked Richards. “My last report from Section 51 showed the area is now swarming with infected, hundreds of thousands of them. How could we cut through that?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” came one of the secretaries over the intercom system. Before the secretary could finish her message, Peter barged into Freda’s office.

“Where is Ambassador Kilroy?”

“Pardon?” asked Christopher. The name rang a bell with him.

“General,” said Peter, “where is Ambassador Kilroy? Our Ambassador to China. The president authorized his rescue to Japan, but he’s not there anymore.”

“I don’t know,” admitted the general, vaguely recalling the name. “We had to abandon most of our ambassadors.”

“He was rescued from China, along with Captain Rodgers. What happened to him afterwards?”

The general and Christopher went into thought.

“You don’t know, do you?” said Peter in shock.

“I … I totally forgot about him,” said Richards. “I knew he was brought to Japan. I assumed he was still there.”

“He’s not.” Peter checked a new message on his phone: Barrington telling him Rodgers was most likely a carrier. “Look, we’ve checked, and CIM has, as well. The Japanese flight records are a mess, and they haven’t been keeping a log of private American government planes. He was fully isolated when leaving China, wasn’t he?”

“Of course,” said Richards.

“Well, where is he then!?” shouted Peter, losing his cool. “We could be sitting on a landmine.”

“I don’t know,” shouted back Richards.

“Then fucking find out. If he’s back in America, then we have a serious problem.”

Richards flipped out his cell and began making calls. Christopher sat down, feeling lightheaded.

“I thought this virus affected people instantly,” snapped Richards. “How the hell could this happen? I was told finding one carrier was next to impossible. Now you’re telling me there might be three!”

Richards smoldered, and Christopher knew he was near breaking point.

“Improbable but not impossible,” said Peter. “If they are carriers, these three might hold the key to saving our race. The important thing is we find the ambassador. These carriers are infectious.”

“But once it enters another human host…” said Christopher, catching on.

“It mutates almost immediately,” said Peter. “If a carrier infects a human, then that human will quickly succumb to infection and spread it. Each time the virus is spread, it gains speed. There’s no stopping it.”

“What makes Rodgers and the ambassador so different? Why are they carriers?” asked Richards, confused. “I need more information than this for the president.”

“We don’t know yet,” said Peter. “Japan is analyzing Rodgers’s blood now and getting the data over to us. The ambassador must be found and quarantined immediately.”

“Surely we’d have heard by now if he was in a populated area,” said Christopher. “I mean, that was days ago.”

“Please, just find him,” said Peter.

“Incoming transmission,” said CIM.

“My God,” said Christopher. “It’s the Council.”

“Answer it,” ordered Richards, still on the phone. Loretta quickly appeared on screen and introduced herself.

“A message will be displayed on your screen. Read it carefully.” Loretta cut the video feed as quickly as it started. The computer screen went blank before a message began appearing.

“Well?” asked Richards.

“It hasn’t fully loaded yet,” said Christopher. He was trying not to read every word that appeared but couldn’t resist.

“The Council continues to direct resources to a vaccine program. Once this has been finalized, we will commence with planet-wide inoculation. A quarantine protocol has been enacted around the planet Earth, and emergency warning beacons have been placed around the edge of your solar system. Further information will follow.”

Christopher finished reading it out loud, not wanting to believe it.

“What the hell does that mean?” said Peter.

“It means we’re on our own,” said Richards.