“Wait, is that how people apologize?” said Lopez.
“Pretty good, right?” said Lucy.
“It was fantastic – for a sixth-grader,” laughed Lopez.
Lucy looked at him pointedly.
“Alright, apology accepted. I guess I blamed you for stuff too. I thought I was doing the right thing, being a hardass, but I should’ve known better. Truth is, I was losing control of the last thing I understood in this world, and it terrified me. I’m serious though, we’re low on numbers and we could use you,” said Lopez.
“Sorry, Major, I’m taken,” said Lucy, swinging her feet up onto the empty chair beside her.
“What’s your assignment?” said Lopez.
“Health Intelligence. Responding to crime scenes and basically saving the day. Just, minus any saving. We rock up late and count the bodies. You?” said Lucy, glumly.
“Patrols. I run a detachment that handles civil order and beast incursions along the north east walls. We get updates from your department all the time – on new creatures and attack patterns to watch out for. It’s a lot to keep on top of, the ground’s constantly shifting,” said Lopez.
“But you’re safe, right?” said Lucy, leaning in.
Lopez glanced around the casino.
“We can’t talk about that here,” he said, lowering his voice.
“Bullshit. You’re alive, you’re healed, we can’t not talk about it,” hissed Lucy.
“I’m not healed,” whispered Lopez.
Lucy’s mouth opened a fraction. She leaned in further.
“I’m still on the meds. I raided a bunch of places on the way to the city – the drugs are keeping most of the symptoms at bay. I reckon I’ve got enough pills for six months. Three, if we need to share them, but we’ll have to make a game plan to get more,” he said, casting his eyes around suspiciously.
“Have you been to the hospital or told anyone about it?” said Lucy.
“Have you?” he snorted.
Lucy slumped back in her chair.
“Exactly. Because you know they’re not gonna take kindly to people rocking up with some alien disease. They barely give out morphine for operations these days. You and I are low on the wait list, I can tell you,” said Lopez.
A waiter passed by and Lopez flagged him down.
“Two more,” he said, cordially.
The guy gave him a filthy look and slouched off. The disappearance of tipping looked set to finish off America’s service industry.
“How are you liking your first Sunday?” said Lopez, gesturing to the room.
“It doesn’t feel real,” said Lucy, surveying the joviality around her.
“It’s political. People were overworked, overstressed. They were getting sick and restless, and fighting each other. The rations aren’t enough, and continuous working was crushing morale, so the government brought in half a weekend to keep people sane and healthy enough to keep going. First good decision they’ve made – or at least, that’s what people tell me,” said Lopez.
The waiter returned and placed their drinks on the table, giving each of their wrists a second stamp.
“That’s your allowance for the day,” he said, clearing the empty bottles as he left.
Lucy reached for her lemonade and her hand brushed Lopez’s. They had a polite stand off as they each shifted to the alternate bottle and back, trying to offer up the other. Lopez grinned at her as he snatched up a bottle a took a swig before Lucy could get to it. He set it back down on the table and opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by the crackle of his radio; another urgent callout.
“God dammit, I was just starting to enjoy not entirely hating you,” said Lopez, with a smile.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep hating for the both of us,” said Lucy, with a shrug.
“I heard a rumor there’ll be a dance next weekend. I’d love to go with you,” said Lopez.
“Are you serious?” said Lucy, scowling.
“I’m widowed and probably gonna die within the year. What’s not to like?” said Lopez.
“You were married?” said Lucy, taken aback.
“I had a life before this. Shocking, I know. Come on, it’ll be fun – we can slow dance and each pretend the other’s someone else. It’ll be like dancing with a warm ghost,” said Lopez.
“You really are something, you know that?” said Lucy.
“So that’s a yes?” said Lopez.
“I guess it’s not a no,” said Lucy.
Lopez’s radio chirped again.
“Crap, I’ve really gotta go. I’ll see you,” he said, pivoting away from the table. He gave her a fleeting wave, bumping into a defunct slot machine as he paced out of the casino.
Lucy stared absently at a nearby poker game, reflecting on the whole baffling exchange. Usually, the broom could hardly be further up the Major’s ass, but maybe he pulled it out a bit on Sundays.
Fliss flopped down into Lopez’s vacant seat and tilted her head forwards, raising her eyebrows to fix Lucy with a provocative, knowing look.
“Well?” said Fliss, expectantly.
“Well what?” said Lucy, taking a sip and looking away.
“I knew it!” said Fliss, clapping her hands.
“You know jack,” said Lucy, blithely.
“Oh, right, my lips are totally sealed,” said Fliss, with a wink.
“No, that’s the opposite of what I meant,” began Lucy.
The casino lights dipped and people took their seats around the card tables and bars as a projector blinked into life.
“Ooh, someone said there’d be a movie. I hope it’s a comedy, I love comedies,” said Fliss, excitedly, as the operator dragged some files around clumsily on the projected desktop. They opened a folder and Anchorman flashed up, to the cheers of Fliss and half the room, and the groans of the others. The screen toggled to a folder called PSAs and a clip was launched.
The footage was from the Oval Office. A tired-looking woman of seventy or so sat behind the desk, in a suit, and addressed the audience directly.
“My fellow Americans, happy Sunday. I hope you’re enjoying a well-earned rest today. Make the most of it, because tomorrow we resume our mission to rebuild the free world. In these trying times, we must remember to look out for one another. We’ve had reports of increased ration theft. This is unacceptable. It is un-American. To steal from your fellow countryman at a time like this? We will not tolerate it. As of today, the sentence for ration theft is being increased to three months of labor, doubling to six months for repeat offenders. If you suspect someone, report them immediately and they will face the justice they deserve. We’re in this together, people, so let’s do this together. May God bless you all,” said the woman, signing off.
Some of the crowd applauded, while others wearing white armbands muttered in disapproval. Both sides were swiftly hushed by the rest of the room as the main film began, to the excited whoops of many.
Lucy felt an arm on her shoulder.
“Something’s come up,” said Adrian, keeping his voice down.
“It’s her day off, dude,” said Fliss, waggling her cola bottle.
“Lucy?” said Adrian, ignoring Fliss and heading for the exit.
“I’d better go. I’ll see you for dinner,” said Lucy, giving Fliss a pat on the back and following after Adrian. She left the casino behind and crossed the sunny boulevard to his car.
“Where are we going?” said Lucy, as they pulled away.
“The Medical Council is holding an emergency meeting. New evidence has come to light which directly impacts our work. I need to be there, and as my unofficial deputy, I want you there too so you’re up to speed,” said Adrian.
They passed a park filled with people playing and watching touch-football, then pulled up beside a squat, brutalist concrete office building. An inscription on the concrete informed Lucy it was the Department of Health and Human Services. Adrian grabbed a folder from the trunk then hurried inside, with Lucy in tow.
“Take a seat, I’ll be right back,” said Adrian, making a beeline for the chairperson who was shuffling papers at the end of the long oval table.
Officials in suits and uniforms stood around the room conversing in clusters of two and three. Lucy surveyed the seating plan and skirted the table until she found Health Intelligence. There was only one seat designated. She glanced around and spotted a spare, further along, which she dragged into place, blushing as she clanged it against another metal chair leg on the way, drawing a few intrigued looks.
“We’re tight on time, people, so let’s begin,” said the chair, calling the room to attention as Adrian took his place beside Lucy.
The chair wore her auburn hair in a tight ponytail. She sported a thick, baggy shell suit, giving her a rough and ready look more suited to a bomb disposal squad. It was at odds with her square-framed glasses and collared shirt. She leaned forwards and pressed the record button on a smartphone, which she slid along the table into the center.
“This is an extraordinary meeting of the Wartime Medical Council. For the record, the following departments are represented: Public Health, Army R&D, Agriculture, Military Police, Health Intelligence, and consultant representatives from the Hospital.”
The door swung open and a rosy-cheeked man entered, puffing.
“Sorry I’m late, everyone. Madam Chair,” he added, doffing an imaginary cap.
“Let the record show that the Director of Pathology has joined the meeting,” said the chair.
“I’ve just come from an examination of Patient One, who is fully contained and in a stable condition for now. A truly remarkable discovery, Adrian, my commendations,” said the rosy man, hurrying to his place at the table, opposite Lucy.
He wore an open-collar soft pink shirt with a faint purple grid pattern running through it, tucked into navy colored suit pants, underlined by a pair of shabby-looking sneakers. His white lab coat was marked by scuff marks along the hems.
“Senator, I believe you’re going to brief us?” said the chair, inviting Adrian to stand.
“Thank you, Madam Chair. Before we begin, may I introduce my newest colleague to you all. This is Lucy Young. She was one of the only survivors from the San Francisco evacuation train, and has gathered extensive operational knowledge of the creatures’ habits and capabilities,” said Adrian, gesturing to Lucy. She nodded awkwardly at the room full of academics, who regarded her with curiosity.
“Yesterday, a field team discovered what we believe is the next phase of D4’s evolution. A parasitic strain which is capable of infecting a human host. It’s different to the spores and degradation agents we’ve encountered so far,” said Adrian.
“You discovered this yesterday? Why weren’t we informed immediately?” objected Public Health.
“There are enough rumors floating around this city as it is, without us circulating unverified information. We wanted to be sure we understood what we were dealing with. My team was building a pathogen profile, based on the field team’s reports. We had planned a further reconnoiter to the discovery site, to collect samples, but events have overtaken us. The pathogen is in the city. I will now call our primary witness,” said Adrian, signaling to the soldier on the door.
The young soldier obliged, ushering in another uniformed man of similar age. The newcomer stood to attention, and stared at the wall above the chairwoman’s head, ready to address questions from any panel member.
“Private Hoffstein, please tell the council what you told us,” said Adrian.
“Yes, sir. We was on a mission to find a senator – her convoy was hit in Maryland. We had a rendezvous address, but when we got to the house she wunt there. There was just three civilians. Well, two was dead already but one was alive. They was infected with some kinda disease or something. They all had these big rashes across their faces, their hands and necks – it looked somethin’ bad,” said the soldier.
“For the record, I’m showing footage taken by the witness,” said Adrian, launching a clip on the meeting room projector.
The camera panned clumsily around the house. The quality and illumination suggested it had been filmed on a phone. The room held three bodies, all severely lesioned. The camera focused on the nearest corpse, showing the extent of the skin damage. In the background, the lone survivor was feebly calling out for help, raising a shaky arm upward to another soldier, who kept his distance. The bodies on screen looked to be at the peak of their infection. Lucy shifted in her seat and tugged the hem of her jacket down, suddenly aware of her faded scars.
“Private, can you describe how Patient One became infected?” said Adrian.
“Yes, sir. We reckoned the first two folk in this house done kill themselves, or maybe they made a pact with the third, like, ‘cause of they’d been shot in the head. So they was gone. But this last guy was too weak to reach the gun. So he’s beggin’ us to do it for him, but at the same time he’s trippin’, callin’ us demons and such like,” said the soldier.
“What did you do?” asked the Military Police rep, from across the table.
“I didn’t do nothin’. Our commander puts the gun in the guy’s hand and moves it to his head. Guy kills himself,” said the soldier, with a shrug.
“You believe that’s when Patient One become infected?” said Adrian.
“He touched the guy’s hand, which I thought was stupid, ‘cause I wouldn’t have done that. Then when we get back to the barracks, I seen his back in the showers and it’s lookin’ like what you saw on that there,” said the soldier, pointing to the projector.
“Exactly the same?” probed the Public Health rep.
“Naw, smaller. It wunt as developed. But it was definitely the same thing growin’ on his skin as was in that house,” said the soldier.
“And you’re fine?” said the Hospital rep.
“If I may jump in here – I’ve examined this soldier and the two others present on the mission. None of them have developed any symptoms. This suggests to me this pathogen is contact-based, not airborne,” said the Director of Pathology.
“That’s good news. Another outbreak like the spores and we’d be finished,” said the Public Health rep.
“What’s the status of Patient One?” said the chair.
“Major Lopez is cooperating with our investigations, but his prognosis is – well, you all saw the footage. Our primary concern is containment. We can’t risk an outbreak among the population,” said the Director.
A cold dread swept over Lucy as Lopez’s name echoed in her ears.
“Senator, you’re coordinating the response to this new strain of the pathogen. What’s your proposal?” said the chair.
“I agree with Harvey that containment is our number one priority. Given the overwhelming pressure on medical and laboratory resources, it would be irresponsible to pursue further research on this pathogen at this time, if there’s the slightest risk of it being transmitted from the lab into the healthy population. We know the condition is terminal, and entails great suffering. I believe it is in the city’s best interests, and the patient’s best interests, that we humanely euthanize the patient immediately, and eliminate any risk of further internal contagion,” said Adrian.
“You’re proposing to execute a serving soldier?” said the Military Police rep.
“Seems extreme,” agreed the Agriculture official.
“It is. It’s directly proportionate to the threat we face,” said Adrian.
“I accept the significant pressure we face on resources, but I think this level of utilitarianism is a step too far. We risk opening the floodgates to terminating other lives in the name of pragmatism. By your logic, we shou
ld be euthanizing criminals too, and dispensing with any notion of civility and constitutional rights,” said the Hospital rep.
“I don’t believe that’s an appropriate comparison but it nonetheless supports my point; human life is the most precious and vulnerable thing we have. With your prisoners example, euthanasia would be unacceptable because we know there’s hope for them; with rehabilitation and reintegration they can play a positive and integral role in society again,” said Adrian.
“Senator, by your own admission, it would therefore be madness to throw away human life where there’s hope, and we’ve not even explored the possibility of a cure yet,” said the Army R&D rep.
“A cure is not a quick fix, it’s an emotional distraction that will cost lives elsewhere. Treatments take decades to develop – and that was before we lost ninety five percent of the scientific community,” said Adrian.
“On that point I’m minded to agree with the senator. Food security is rapidly becoming our greatest threat. We should be focusing every spare hour of labor and brainpower on that,” said the Agriculture rep.
“This is an awful predicament, but we must approach it rationally. The footage we’ve just seen shows us we only have two options right now. Either we watch Major Lopez, a decorated soldier, endure an agonizing degenerative death, or we provide a compassionate way out. We can offer him a dignified end that doesn’t require days or even weeks of supervised laboratory time. It spares him needless suffering, and it protects time and effort that would be better spent studying the creatures. Need I remind you that last week alone we lost fifty three civilians to creatures attacking us within our own walls? They’re killing unarmed citizens in their homes, their canteens, their workplaces. That is where our focus must be,” said Adrian emphatically.
“Killing a soldier doesn’t sit right with me. It’s a betrayal of our own people,” said the Military Police rep.
“On the contrary, it’s asking him to make the ultimate sacrifice for the good of his country. I do not take such a demand lightly. My son was a soldier. I am aware of the implications of my words. If it were him in this position, I would be looking to spare him any further pain,” said Adrian.
Convulsive Box Set Page 56