The Premise

by Andy Crossfield

  Colleen called out for Karen to come back to her office and explained she was breaking her rule about secrecy.

  "You mean the one you just gave me?" Karen teased.

  Colleen’s eyes sparkled brightly as she smiled. "This is different, Karen. I was just going over our next steps and realized what we needed was an advocate, a respected advocate! Then I thought of Mark Moran! Mark could give us the credibility we need to get to the next step!"

  Karen seemed okay with the change until Colleen told her to make hard copies of all the data.

  "You want hard copies instead of just putting it on a memory stick?" Karen asked, sounding annoyed at the new time consuming assignment.

  "Yes, he’s old school, and besides, it’s much easier to keep it from being duplicated if it’s in hardcopy."

  "Okay, Doctor. I’ll get to it today but it’s been crazy around here this morning. I was just back in the storage room and somebody tried to break in again. Must have happened last night. This time they cut through two bars before they gave up. It’s a good thing we have such underachieving thieves around here! It would seem if they went to the bother of climbing up four stories, they would stick to the plan…"

  Colleen looked up from her reports with a smile. "You know, maybe they did!"

  Karen looked puzzled. "How so?"

  "Maybe all they wanted to do was get high!" Colleen said with a chuckle.

  Karen moaned and rolled her eyes, as she always did when Colleen made a joke.

  "Okay" said Karen, still shaking her head, "I’ll call the university and have them send their security company out again. So tell me, who is this Dr. Moran person anyway?"

  "Dr. Moran has a brilliant mind," Colleen said. "The sharpest geneticist I’ve ever known. He’ll be able to spot a mistake in our process quicker than a whole team of reviewers. As a bonus, we’ll be able to avoid the embarrassment of going public with a bold claim if it doesn’t hold up to scrutiny.

  "He was once my favorite professor, so getting him to review my work will be like old times. Except this time my 'grade' has a lot more riding on it!"

  Karen agreed that having someone who would review the work quietly before they went public was a good idea. As she got up to leave, Karen said, "Oh, I almost forgot… a guy named Mako Williams called for you. He said you came to his neighborhood today looking for him?"

  "Oh good," said Colleen as she continued reviewing the columns of data. "What did he want?"

  "He wanted to know if Marcus Baker was your brother."

  "Really?" Colleen said stopping her search. "Strange…."

  "I told him yes, and then he said he would be coming in and join the study tonight!"

  "Did he mention how he knew Marcus?"

  "No." said Karen.

  "Did he mention anything about a guy named Winston?"

  "No, not that I recall. But I thought you would be happy to hear you must have had an effect on him. That makes two hundred and sixty-two in the program so far! What did you have in mind as far as tweaks to the study?" Karen added, switching topics.

  "Tweaks?" Colleen said with a questioning look.

  "Yes, tweaks… remember an hour ago, when you said we just needed to modify a few aspects of the trial?"

  "Oh, sorry, I was thinking about Marcus. Um, let me review it and I’ll have it for you before group tonight. Get that data over to Dr. Moran though, okay?

  "Oh, and let me know when Mako Williams comes in, will you?" Colleen said. "I’d like to do his intake exam myself."

  "Okay" Karen said as she hurried off down the hall.

  Colleen dug into her work and quickly developed two modifications to the study that, she hoped, would reveal how the MHIV was disabling the existing HIV in the body. She originally thought the coupling of the virus and her modification was just a random action, but it had been so effective, she wondered if the modified HIV could instead actually be targeting the invader.

  HIV attacks the body’s defender cells that make up the immune system, and then turns those cells into factories that make more virus. Once infected with HIV, the individual develops the condition known as AIDS. Colleen’s solution was elegant. She created a modified virus that imitated the defender cells, but with the same camouflage that HIV takes on so they wouldn’t be attacked by the body’s healthy immune system.

  Her idea was to flood the body with a non-lethal virus that was designed to attach to any strand of the real HIV virus that might be present. The resulting combination created an open 'port', that would then attract calcium ion. The addition of calcium would make the combined virus 'visible' again to the body’s defenses, making it an easier target for destruction.

  By maintaining levels of the destroyer virus in the patient, Colleen hoped she could prevent an infection from occurring in the first place, thus creating a kind of AIDS vaccine. Although the introduction of live HIV, modified or not, into an uninfected patient created an unacceptable risk at this time, it was the study’s ultimate goal in order to protect all populations from future HIV infections. For now though, Colleen was happy to see infection levels drop in her group of already infected patients.

  Colleen had lost track of time and was startled when Karen popped her head in to announce that Mako Williams was in the waiting area.

  "Okay, thanks, I’ll be out in a moment." Colleen said as she finalized the instructions for the vaccine modifications to the staff.

  When Colleen opened the door to the reception area, there were a dozen kids sitting there, waiting and talking in hushed tones. She was not used to such good behavior and was surprised by the sight. Before she could speak, one of the kids jumped up and offered his hand.

  "You Marcus’ sister?" He said as he shook Colleen’s hand. "I’m Mako, an these here’s my buds. Course we never knew Marcus, but we all heard, you know, what he done and stuff. He’s still a hero, even now… that’s what he is. I just wanna shake your hand, and help you out in all this. Whatever we can do, you know. It’s jus paybacks, you know, paybacks…"

  "Hi Mako, I don’t quite know what to say…" Colleen said, turning to the rest of the kids in the room. "I’m touched that each of you would come down to support Mako!"

  "Oh, this ain’t all my buds, these is just the ones what’s sick …thas what you wanted, right?"

  "I heard you can cure us… is ‘at right?" said another boy in the group.

  "Wait," said Colleen, "each of you have tested positive? You are all here for the study?"

  "Yes ma’am," Mako said. "We’re here for Marcus, you know. Cause of what he did for my family and the kids in the streets. It’s not right he got shot and all. He was always trying to stop the fightin’ and thas the thing that got him killed, you know. That little kid, the one he got cover for? The one he got killed over? Thas my big brother! I got ta make it right."

  Colleen tried hard to swallow the growing lump in her throat as tears filled her eyes. "I’m …truly touched, Mako. Thank you all for coming! Just wait here while I get more help. This is wonderful." Colleen left the reception room and moved down the hall calling into every office, rounding up the grad students for help processing the new test subjects.

  Colleen then led Mako back to her office and took his information. He was fifteen years old, African American-Hispanic origin, given name Donald Rodriguez. Colleen agreed it didn’t fit him as well as Mako… a name he adopted after seeing a shark documentary when he was ten. He found it fit his tough guy persona, and got him out of more tough spots than he could count.

  Fifteen was about the typical age for contracting HIV in his neighborhood, if one wasn’t born with it that is. A combination of poor education about the subject, coupled with a sense of invincibility, led most to come in contact with the virus at an early age. Colleen had tried to institute a program that educated the kids about the simple ways to avoid contracting HIV, but the lessons she taught were even less subscribed to than the class. Pamphlets did little to convince someone of the danger, especially someone who fel
t he could walk barefoot on hot coals. Condom use was doomed from the start, regarded by the females as an unreasonable demand, and as not really having sex by the males.

  There was yet another belief at play here in the streets that prevented any widespread adoption of steps to avoid contracting HIV. No one on the streets could envision themselves living past their mid-twenties. Why bother avoiding a disease that took years to kill you when you’d be dead from violence long before that?

  Colleen talked with Mako during the intake exam about the usual at-risk behaviors… drug use, sexual partners, and exposure to bodily fluids like blood or semen. Despite admitting to much of the activity, Mako had been surprised when he tested positive and wondered if he would be able to protect his little brother, now ten years old, and already following in his big brother’s footsteps.

  Colleen asked if he could have been persuaded to change when he was ten. Mako had to admit he couldn’t. But Mako seemed to put great trust in Colleen, leaving her to guess whether her clinical professionalism was the reason or the fact that she was Marcus’ sister. Whatever the reason, he was actually eager to get his first treatment of the serum.

  As she finished the intake process, Colleen slid a parental release across the desk to Mako. "Here you go Mako, we need to get a parent to sign this."

  Mako pulled a stack of papers from his pocket. "No need Doc. I got them all right here. Sam told us we needed ‘em to get the treatment."

  Colleen thumbed through the stack. Every signature was in the same color ink and appeared to be written in the same hand. She realized she could press the issue and refuse to allow them in the study, or she could play the game and help the kids.

  "Great!" Colleen said as she stuffed the papers in her drawer. "Now, let’s get you and your friends treated!"

  Chapter 7 A Gift From Heaven

  Ramy Basra finished leaving his message demanding Mark return immediately for an important meeting and hung up the phone. He slumped back in his chair and looked at the time, eleven-thirty. That was ten-thirty in Vegas, he thought as he reached again for the phone.

  Ramy hesitated. He wasn't sure of what he was going to say, or rather how he would say it. He ran through several scenarios trying to pick the least disastrous one. News of the break-in would spread fast, and he didn’t want to also explain why the bad news didn’t come from him.

  He took a deep breath and hit the speed dial button for Hank.

  "ReformCo. How may I direct your call?" said the perky receptionist on the other end.

  "Hank Caswell please," Ramy said almost out of habit. Hank was a tough SOB when things were going well, he dreaded finding out how he would take this news. Ramy just hoped Caswell was in a good mood.

  "Mr. Caswell’s office, Brenda speaking," said a pleasant voice with a British accent. Ramy remembered Hank had told him once that people take you more seriously if your "help" sounded smart, and Hank thought an English accent implied intelligence.

  "Oh, hi Brenda, Ramy Basra here, how’s things in Vegas?"

  "We’re just chuffed to bits out here Mr. Basra, and yourself?"

  "Oh, I’ve had better days Brenda…. The wolves are nippin' at my ankles today! Is Hank around?"

  "Sorry to hear it sir. Let me just pop in and see if I can get him for you…"

  "Thanks Brenda."

  A minute later Ramy could hear Hank's extension pick up. The roar of Hank Caswell chewing someone out came across loud and clear.

  "That’s not good enough dammit! Get out there and tell them we're holding them to their agreement, and if they don’t like it, they can get in line to kiss my ass!"

  There was a sound of faint protest, then a thunderous "GO!"

  "Ramy?" Hank bellowed into the phone.

  Hearing Hank’s fury now directed at him, Ramy jumped and almost spilled his coffee.

  "Give me some good news. Things are going to hell out here!" Hank said, still shouting from his last conversation.

  "Hi Hank, I wish I could, but we’ve had a situation here." Ramy had decided on the direct approach, realizing small talk would only make the news worse.

  "Situation? What kind of situation?"

  "We had a security breach this morning, Hank. A copy of Termes was taken and we have very few leads to go on at this time."

  "Shit, Ramy. How’d it happen?"

  "An imposter. Somehow he switched Mark’s badge to get onto the sixth floor, bypassed our cameras and got out through the elevator shaft to the roof. We’re not sure how he got away but I wanted to brief you on possible repercussions."

  All in all, Ramy thought, Hank was taking things better than he had hoped.

  There was a long sigh on the phone, then silence.

  "Hank? You there?"

  "I’m thinking…"

  Ramy waded in again "We have every available resource on this, including a little something special should the program be installed…" Ramy stopped, silently cursing himself for blurting out his ace in the hole. He then realized his slip went totally over Hank’s head.

  "You know Ramy, I’m trying hard to see how this affects us out here. Looks like you got your balls in a vice out there… You’ll just have to get ‘em out yourself!"

  Ramy wasn’t ready for the "every man for himself" reaction, but he quickly took the offensive. "Hank, let’s not go down that road, I’m sure the Department of Corrections would be interested in your little scheme, to say nothing of the Attorney General, the ACLU and the CDC…"

  "Our little scheme?" Hank’s voice exploded through the phone and made Ramy jump again.

  "You son of a bitch! You’re the one who brought us Termes in the first place." Hank fumed. "Looking for test results my ass! It hasn’t exactly worked out like you said Ramy, and now you’ve got your whole nest cocked up out there! What do you want me to do about it, huh? Jesus, Ramy…"

  "That’s not how this started and you know it Hank," said Ramy in a deliberate voice. "You came to us with a problem, and we helped you solve it, with great effort and risk to our reputation, and I’ll not allow you a contrived memory of this project, or keep you blameless, …do you hear me Hank?"

  It felt good pushing back against Hank, and Ramy was beginning to think Hank was coming around. Ramy just needed to steer the conversation away from placing blame and on to damage control.

  After a thoughtful moment Hank said "Sounds like we have an impasse buddy. But which one of us has his dick in the fire, huh?"

  "Look," Ramy said trying another tack, "we can get a better handle on this if I get Mark to come out and evaluate the project in person. He can keep a lid on things, handle anyone who comes snooping around, act as a buffer, you know. We just need to get him in a position of authority…"

  "Not at my facility he’s not! There are no obvious ties between your fiasco and us right now, and I’m not allowing any in the future, is that clear?"

  "Hank, we need to keep a lid on this, and having Mark inside is the best way to do it! What happens if the DOC comes looking at your work logs? How are you going to explain your inmates' increased output?"

  "Let’s just say we’ve handled the work logs, Ramy. Everything is kosher around here, although we have been hit with a bout of stubborn stomach flu. I don’t want to rock the boat on this one. You mop up your mess out there and don’t worry about us… we’ll be fine."

  Ramy jumped quickly at this new angle, hoping to use it as leverage into getting his way.

  "Well, maybe that stomach flu is a symptom of something gone wrong with Termes, Hank. It could be something tied to the conversion. Are just the inmates in the program affected? We ought to get Mark out there to look at it…"

  "Now hold on Ramy, you know what this sounds like? Sounds like your ass is on fire, and instead of just putting it out, you want to run over here and light my ass up too! Well it isn’t going to happen you hear? There is no need for Mark, or anybody else, to come out and stir up a bunch of questions. None at all. Now, I’ve got other snakes to kill around here; are
we done?"

  Ramy stalled while trying to come up with something else but couldn’t think of any other reason to get Mark out there, and reluctantly ended the conversation with Hank. He hung up the phone and turned to stare out the window. It was a gorgeous fall day. Ramy wished he could just fly away from the mess he had on his plate.

  As he started to get back to work, Ramy saw Mark driving into the parking lot.

  Mark had no idea what to expect in the urgent meeting with Ramy. He was trying to keep calm and plan for any contingency, but the range of what Ramy might want was too great to prepare any really detailed response to in advance. Mark thought of the $300,000 in cash sitting in his trunk. That would be a hard one to explain. He then thought of Walter, lying slumped over in that motel room, and his heart began to pound heavily in his chest.