by Ralph Gibbs
Reaching across the desk, he turned on the computer monitor that showed the CDC briefing room in Washington.
“Kayla,” he said through the intercom, “let everyone know that we’ll start the briefing in five minutes.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” Air Force Technical Sergeant Kayla Miles said. Once Sergeant Miles delivered the message, there was a flurry of activity in his computer monitor as members of the CDC made last-minute preparations. He watched Marcus Dowling, CDC’s Chief Operating Officer, march into the small meeting room with a confidence born of authority and experience. Reaching his plush executive chair, Marcus turned toward the conference table and visibly counted heads.
“I’m missing one,” Marcus said. “Who am I missing?”
“Dr. Delgado,” CDC Policy Director Nita Woodard said. Marcus pulled out the watch attached to a gold chain from his breast pocket.
“We’re scheduled to begin our meeting with the president in three minutes,” he said in agitation. “Dammit, we do not have time for this.” Marcus picked up the phone to call Dr. Delgado’s office when the man entered the conference room carrying a handful of file folders that threatened to spill onto the floor.
“Sorry I’m late,” Doctor William Delgado said. “I was trying to get the latest updates.” Delgado spread the files out in front of his monitor.
Marcus hung up and dialed a different number.
“Please let President Dixon know the CDC is ready,” Marcus said. Marcus sat down, folded his hands together on top of the oblong table, and studied the other cabinet members’ faces. They all looked worried, and that was not a good sign. President Dixon waited a few more moments and then keyed himself into the meeting.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending,” President Dixon said. “I know you would rather be with your loved ones during this trying time, but we have a responsibility to the American people, and that responsibly transcends everything else. I want you to know that each of your immediate family members, as indicated on your SF-1212, were moved to secure locations.” What he didn’t tell them was that many of them were already sick or developing symptoms.
“Thank you, Mr. President,” several members said.
“No thanks are necessary,” the president replied. “Even if this wasn’t part of the contract package for working at the CDC, it’s the right thing to do for the sacrifices you’re making. However, I am now expecting a lot from you. So will everyone else once this goes public, which I plan to do later today.”
“Is that wise?” Margaret Nawrocki, Secretary of Homeland Security, asked. She was one of several remote attendees squirreled away in a secure location in Nebraska. Anyone that wasn’t part of the CDC were remote attendees numbering nearly a dozen. Several dozen more were dialed in but could only watch.
“I’ve already informed the networks I’ll be addressing the nation this afternoon.”
“They’ll panic,” she said.
“I don’t think you give the people enough credit,” the president said.
“And you give them too much,” she countered. “Have you seen the news reports? It’s just a rumor at this point, and already we’re seeing people flocking to banks to take their money out. And there is rioting in several cities including New Orleans, Los Angeles—”
“When isn’t there rioting in Los Angeles?” someone said.
“Jacksonville, and Memphis,” she finished. “There’s also a shortage of bread and milk in the south which is usual when there is a hint of an emergency.” She suddenly looked perplexed. “Has anyone ever figured out the psychology behind that? I mean, bread and milk? I can think of a whole lot of other things to buy in an emergency other than bread and an item that’ll spoil as soon as the power goes out.” No one responded because they weren’t sure if she was being rhetorical and because there wasn’t an answer. At least not one that made sense. “Several anti-government, anti-immigrant, white nationalist, skinheads, and militia groups are growing restless as well.”
“What do you mean by restless?” President Dixon asked.
“Mostly rhetoric,” Nawrocki said. “And mostly the usual stuff.”
“Like what?” the president asked.
“Oh, you know,” she said, her voice taking on a bored tone, “the south will rise again, disease-ridden immigrants are responsible, God is punishing the United States for marriage equality, the government is illegitimate, the government is covering up the truth.”
“I’d like to point out that the last bit is true,” the president said. Nawrocki just shrugged and added, “I did say mostly.”
“There’s been some violence at the border as a few of the so-called patriot groups have attacked and killed illegals trying to cross the border. Probably the most serious incident happened in Wyoming when an anti-government group stormed the Bighorn Canyon federal wildlife offices, killed seven people and took eighteen hostages.”
“Jesus,” someone said.
“According to the briefing I read, this was a group similar to that responsible for the Oregon federal wildlife refuge takeover back in 2016,” President Dixon said. “Something about wanting the government to return all federal lands to state control?”
“Basically,” Nawrocki said. “Just as with the Oregon group, they were hoping to spark an uprising with other like-minded groups. They received a little more traction than the Oregon group, because of this emergency, but nothing that couldn’t be handled.”
“What is it?” the president asked, sensing some reluctance.
“What wasn’t in the briefing was that the group wasn’t well organized, and we could have cleaned up the mess quickly,” she said. “But it was drawing the focus of news organizations, so we let it go on longer than necessary.”
“Seven hostages died,” the president said, sounding just short of full outrage.
“That was regretful,” she said sincerely. “If we had known that would happen, we would have put an end it earlier. We underestimated their desperation. Because they didn’t get the response they were hoping for they took drastic measures. The killings backfired on them. They lost a lot of support. As soon as I heard about the deaths, I put an end to the standoff. But . . . The standoff served its purpose. It distracted news organizations.
“Thanks to the lack of coverage, people were buying the notion that people catching this outbreak of chickenpox were only those that were never vaccinated. Predictably, there’s been a backlash against anyone that was part of the anti-vaccine movement, but that can’t be helped. The point is once we go official, all hell will break loose.”
“I think we’re past that point,” Defense Secretary Richard Stroud said. He leaned back in his leather chair and, as if tired of the entire ordeal, threw an arm half up in derision. “Between all the God damn unnamed official sources and twenty-four-hour news networks filling up programming with so-called experts, the cat’s pretty much out of the bag. They would only buy chickenpox for so long, anyway.”
“What’s the toll?” the president asked.
“Forty-two thousand,” Marcus said. “But that’ll rise exponentially going forward.”
“Why?” one of the remote attendees asked. President Dixon looked at the voice identifier to see that it was Senator Marion White.
“Because every one of those forty-two thousand has infected someone,” Marcus said. “A lot of someones. We haven’t gotten a handle on when a person becomes contagious, but it looks to be somewhere between three to five days after initial exposure. Symptoms develop after about seven or eight.”
“When do the pimples start?” Senator White asked.
“Around eight,” Marcus said.
“I’ve heard enough,” the president said. “I’ll be deploying the CDC and FEMA after this meeting, so people will panic if I don’t say something,” the president said. “I should have done this days ago. As it stands, I’ll have to apologize to the survivors when this is over.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Doctor Dow
ling said. “Granted, you might have slowed it down, but you couldn’t have stopped it.”
“What’s done is done,” President Dixon said. “It’s time to deploy emergency services and help where we can. Mr. Dowling, are you on schedule to deploy?”
“Yes, Mr. President,” Marcus said.
“If we get out in front of this, maybe we can keep panic to a minimum,” the president said. “It would go a long way toward keeping people calm if I can tell them we have a vaccine.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. President,” Marcus said. Marcus hated this part of the job. Thanks to Hollywood, everyone always expected the CDC to ride in at the last minute to provide a miraculous cure in miraculous time to miraculously avert a coming pandemic. It was not in the script this time.
“What’s the hold-up?” Air Force Joint Chief Eugene Nichols asked with a touch of anger and panic in his voice. His eyes looked red.
“We’re not even sure a vaccine will be effective,” Dr. Delgado said, answering for Marcus.
“Mr. President,” Marcus said, taking over, “that is Dr. William Delgado Head of Infectious Diseases. He’s technically in charge of finding a cure, but everyone here at the CDC is working on it. As Dr. Delgado pointed out, we’re not sure a vaccine will be effective.”
“Antibiotics?” someone else asked. “I’ve heard rumors that antibiotics are helping.”
“We don’t have confirmation of that,” Marcus said. “Antibiotics could be helping, or it could be a person’s natural immunity. We don’t have enough data to make a proper determination.”
“I doubt they’re helping,” Dr. Delgado said.
“You don’t know that,” Marcus said. He turned to the monitor to address the president. “We don’t–”
“If they were effective, even just a little, I don’t think the death rate would be as high as it is,” Dr. Delgado cut in. “Frankly, this disease has all the characteristics of a superbug.”
“For the sake of those watching this meeting and haven’t read any of the analysis and can’t ask questions, can you briefly explain what a superbug is?” the president asked.
“Simply put, a superbug is a virus that has developed immunity to antibiotics,” Delgado said. “But I want to stress that I said it has the characteristics of a superbug, meaning it could be we just haven’t found the right combination of drugs. It’s still early in the investigation.”
“By public standards it’s late,” someone quipped.
“What’s your recommendation on their use?” the president asked, ignoring the outburst. Delgado shrugged.
“It couldn’t hurt,” Marcus said. “Some medical experts believe many of those that died during the Athenian plague did so of secondary causes. If nothing else, it might lower the death toll from other infections.”
“So, you agree with your colleagues in Europe that this is the Athenian Plague and not, as some suggest, a terrorist bio-attack?” the president asked.
“I believe the evidence is overwhelming,” Dr. Delgado said. “I’ve asked Dr. Sten Olofsson, Director of the European CDC, to join the meeting in case you had any questions. His colleague Dr. Gunilla Billstrom is one of the foremost experts on the Athenian plague. She’s written dozens of papers on the subject.”
“Was,” Dr. Olofsson said in a heavy Swedish accent. “She died at my villa two days ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the president said. “Your family?”
“Infected, as I suspect I am,” Olofsson said. “I woke up with a headache this morning, one of the first symptoms. If I am infected, because of my advanced age, I doubt I’ll survive. The only one not infected is my seven-year-old granddaughter, Melinda. I’m scrambling to try and find someone to take care of her.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that Dr. Olofsson,” President Dixon said earnestly. “I’ve also been told you have a daughter here in the States?
“Gunilla,” Dr. Olofsson said. “She’s a top virologist. She’s probably as smart as the one she’s named after.”
President Dixon read her biography and the FBI files. She was smart, but so was everyone in the CDC. The FBI ranked her as one of the top 300 virologists–average at best–but estimated that given more experience, she might break into the top 200. She was wild and at the moment trying to find her way in the world, but given her father’s political connections, they estimated there was a high probability she would rise above her station if she stayed in the field. That was not a certainty. She was in the States because she was having a crisis of career choices and needed to get away from everyone she knew to come to a decision. How the FBI knew this, he had no idea. However, at the moment, he could not afford to let a resource go to waste.
“Considering the circumstances, I will do everything in my power to find her, and have her transferred to a safe location. If you find someone to take care of your granddaughter, give the contact information to Dr. Delgado, and we’ll make sure she gets it.”
“Thank you, Mr. President,” Sten said.
“So, doctor, is this the Athenian Plague?” the president asked.
“Dr. Billstrom believed so Mr. President,” Sten said. “I’m convinced as well.” Sten pushed a key on his computer, and a photograph of a boat and a barnacle-crusted cylinder-shaped objects came up on the screen. “We’ve determined this craft to be ground zero.”
“What are those objects your team is holding?” General Nichols asked.
“They’re containers the ancient Greeks used to transport cargo,” Sten said. “Tests confirmed the presence of the virus inside several of the containers.”
“How is that even possible?” the president asked. “They have to be upwards of two thousand years old.”
“We don’t know,” Dr. Delgado said. “You have to remember, Mr. President, it wasn’t until the latter half of the twentieth century that we started to understand viruses. One of the most amazing things we’ve found is that viruses are resilient and can live in extreme conditions. They’ve been found in sulfur-rich acid hot springs, geysers, volcanoes, the deepest parts of the ocean, soda lakes, high altitude polar environments, even in the middle of a desert. In other words, they can survive in just about any condition. I have no problem believing this is the Athenian Plague.”
“I’m not convinced,” Doctor Patricia Legg, Associate Director of Science, said. “How do you account for the discrepancy in the death rate? The death rate in 430 BCE was approximately thirty-five percent.” Dr. Legg checked her notes. “We’re seeing a death rate of eighty-nine percent.”
“Dr. Billstrom believed age was a factor,” Sten said. “You have to consider that the average lifespan in ancient Greece was somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty-five to forty years. So, they didn’t have as many elderly as the world does now. Also, the world population is considerably higher than it was then. I believe these two factors can account for the higher death rate.”
“What about the discrepancies in symptoms?” Dr. Legg asked.
“The basic problem with Thucydides has always been he didn’t list the symptoms by patient; he listed only what he saw,” Sten said.
“And what he experienced firsthand,” Legg countered.
“Thucydides?” someone asked.
“An ancient Greek historian,” Sten answered. “He lived during the plague and even caught it. He’s where most of our knowledge about the plague comes from.” He turned back to the president. “The problem with his account is he may not have experienced what the man down the street experienced. Thucydides describes redness of the eye and bad breath, but we’re not seeing those symptoms in every patient.”
“Which supports the contention that this isn’t the Athenian Plague,” Legg said.
“Then why are we seeing those symptoms at all?” Sten asked.
“Doctors,” the president said, trying to avert an argument he guessed had taken place several times already. “Debate the origin of the plague another time. Right now, my original question stands. How long before a work
ing vaccine is produced?”
“Once we’re able to determine if a vaccine is effective, if we’re able, we’re looking at approximately thirty to forty-day production time,” Marcus answered.
“Why so long?” Richard asked.
“The time is comparable to the production of the H1N1 vaccine back in 2009,” Marcus said. “Distributing the vaccine is another matter. By the time a vaccine is found, it’s estimated that most of the world’s infrastructure will be closed down. Distribution will be a problem.”
“You worry about getting the vaccine, and I’ll worry about getting it produced and distributed,” Doctor Jason Rodgers, the Director of Health and Human Services, said irritably.
“What’s your plan, Dr. Rodgers?” the president asked. “Having a vaccine doesn’t help if we can’t get it to the public.”
Just as Dr. Rodgers was about to lay out his plan, Doctor Ruth Elder sneezed. The president almost laughed at the look of abject terror on the faces of everyone in the room.
“Relax, everyone,” Dr. Elder said. “It was just a sneeze. I haven’t been outside the CDC since before the lockdown.”
Though everyone in the office visibly relaxed, all of those in the conference room, and a few attending remotely, pumped furiously on their hand sanitizers.
“Sir, I have five US manufacturers—”
“Four,” Marcus corrected. “The vaccine manufacturing plant near Boston has been compromised.”
“That’ll cut down on manufacturing quantities, but not time,” Dr. Rodgers said. “Once the vaccine gets going, the four remaining manufacturers will start producing single-dose syringes first, followed by multi-dose vials and intranasal sprayers. Normal vaccine protocol will then go into effect. We’ll start vaccinating government officials, followed by healthcare workers and the general public, in that order.”