The Plague, Pestilence & Apocalypse MEGAPACK™

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The Plague, Pestilence & Apocalypse MEGAPACK™ Page 104

by Robert Reed


  cigarette . At that moment the door banged open . Nerves raw, Betti-

  jean cried out. Andy’s cigarette tumbled from his trembling fingers.

  “Sergeant,” the chicken colonel barked, parading into the office.

  Andy swore under his breath and eyed the two young officers

  who trailed after the colonel . Emotionally exhausted, he had to

  clamp his jaw against a huge laugh that struggled up in his throat .

  For just an instant there, the colonel had reminded him of a movie

  version of General Rommel strutting up and down before his tanks .

  But it wasn’t a swagger stick the colonel had tucked under his arm .

  THE PLAGUE, by Teddy Keller | 807

  It was a folded newspaper. Opening it, the colonel flung it down on

  Andy’s desk .

  “RED PLAGUE SWEEPS NATION,” the scare headline

  screamed. Andy’s first glance caught such phrases as “alleged Rus-

  sian plot” and “germ warfare” and “authorities hopelessly baffled.”

  Snatching the paper, Andy balled it and hurled it from him .

  “That’ll help a lot,” he growled hoarsely .

  “Well, then, Sergeant .” The colonel tried to relax his square face,

  but tension rode every weathered wrinkle and fear glinted behind

  the pale gray eyes. “So you finally recognize the gravity of the situ-

  ation .”

  Andy’s head snapped up, heated words searing towards his lips .

  Bettijean stepped quickly around the desk and laid a steady hand on

  his shoulder .

  “Colonel,” she said levelly, “you should know better than that .”

  A shocked young captain exploded, “Corporal . Maybe you’d bet-

  ter report to—”

  “All right,” Andy said sharply .

  For a long moment he stared at his clenched fists. Then he ex-

  haled slowly and, to the colonel, flatly and without apology, he said,

  “You’ll have to excuse the people in this office if they overlook

  some of the G .I . niceties . We’ve been without sleep for two days,

  we’re surviving on sandwiches and coffee, and we’re fighting a war

  here that makes every other one look like a Sunday School picnic .”

  He felt Bettijean’s hand tighten reassuringly on his shoulder and

  he gave her a tired smile . Then he hunched forward and picked up

  a report . “So say what you came here to say and let us get back to

  work .”

  “Sergeant,” the captain said, as if reading from a manual, “insub-

  ordination cannot be tolerated, even under emergency conditions .

  Your conduct here will be noted and—”

  “Oh, good heavens!” Bettijean cried, her fingers biting into An-

  dy’s shoulder . “Do you have to come in here trying to throw your

  weight around when this man—”

  THE PLAGUE, by Teddy Keller | 808

  “That’s enough,” the colonel snapped . “I had hoped that you two

  would cooperate, but…” He let the sentence trail off as he swelled

  up a bit with his own importance . “I have turned Washington upside

  down to get these two officers from the surgeon general’s office.

  Sergeant . Corporal . You are relieved of your duties as of this mo-

  ment. You will report to my office at once for suitable disciplinary

  action .”

  Bettijean sucked in a strained breath and her hand flew to her

  mouth . “But you can’t—”

  “Let’s go,” Andy said, pushing up from his chair . Ignoring the

  brass, he turned to her and brushed his lips across hers . “Let them

  sweat a while . Let ’em have the whole stinking business . Whatever

  they do to us, at least we can get some sleep .”

  “But you can’t quit now,” Bettijean protested . “These brass hats

  don’t know from—”

  “Corporal!” the colonel roared .

  And from the door, an icy voice said, “Yes, colonel?”

  The colonel and his captains wheeled, stared and saluted . “Oh,

  general,” the colonel said . “I was just—”

  “I know,” the brigadier said, stepping into the room . “I’ve been

  listening to you . And I thought I suggested that everybody leave the

  sergeant and his staff alone .”

  “But, general, I—”

  The general showed the colonel his back and motioned Andy into

  his chair . He glanced to Bettijean and a smile warmed his wedge

  face . “Corporal, were you speaking just then as a woman or as a

  soldier?”

  Crimson erupted into Bettijean’s face and her tight laugh said

  many things . She shrugged . “Both I guess .”

  The general waved her to a chair and, oblivious of the colonel,

  pulled up a chair for himself . The last trace of humor drained from

  his face as he leaned elbows on the desk . “Andy, this is even worse

  than we had feared .”

  Andy fumbled for a cigarette and Bettijean passed him a match .

  A captain opened his mouth to speak, but the colonel shushed him .

  THE PLAGUE, by Teddy Keller | 809

  “I’ve just come from Intelligence,” the general said . “We haven’t

  had a report—nothing from our agents, from the Diplomatic Corps,

  from the civilian newspapermen—not a word from any Iron Curtain

  country for a day and half . Everybody’s frantic . The last item we

  had—it was a coded message the Reds’d tried to censor—was an

  indication of something big in the works .”

  “A day and half ago,” Andy mused . “Just about the time we knew

  we had an epidemic . And about the time they knew it .”

  “It could be just propaganda,” Bettijean said hopefully, “proving

  that they could cripple us from within .”

  The general nodded . “Or it could be the softening up for an all-

  out effort . Every American base in the world is alerted and every

  serviceman is being issued live ammunition . If we’re wrong, we’ve

  still got an epidemic and panic that could touch it off . If we’re

  right…well, we’ve got to know . What can you do?”

  Andy dropped his haggard face into his hands . His voice came

  through muffled. “I can sit here and cry.” For an eternity he sat there,

  futility piling on helplessness, aware of Bettijean’s hand on his arm .

  He heard the colonel try to speak and sensed the general’s move-

  ment that silenced him .

  Suddenly he sat upright and slapped a palm down on the desk .

  “We’ll find your answers, sir. All we ask is cooperation.”

  The general gave both Andy and Bettijean a long, sober look,

  then launched himself from the chair . Pivoting, he said, “Colonel,

  you and your captains will be stationed by that switchboard out

  there . For the duration of this emergency, you will take orders only

  from the sergeant and the corporal here .”

  “But, general,” the colonel wailed, “a noncom? I’m assigned—”

  The general snorted . “Insubordination cannot be tolerated—un-

  less you find a two-star general to outrank me. Now, as I said before,

  let’s get out of here and let these people work .”

  * * * *

  The brass exited wordlessly . Bettijean sighed noisily . Andy found

  his cigarette dead and lit another . He fancied a tiny lever in his brain

  THE PLAGUE, by Teddy Kell
er | 810

  and he shifted gears to direct his thinking back into the proper chan-

  nel . Abruptly his fatigue began to lift . He picked up the new pile of

  reports Bettijean had brought in .

  She move around the desk and sat, noting the phone book he

  had used, studying the names he had crossed off . “Did you learn

  anything?” she asked .

  Andy coughed, trying to clear his raw throat . “It’s crazy,” he said .

  “From the Senate and House on down, I haven’t found a single gov-

  ernment worker sick .”

  “I found a few,” she said . “Over in a Virginia hospital .”

  “But I did find,” Andy said, flipping through pages of his own

  scrawl, “a society matron and her social secretary, a whole flock of

  office workers—business, not government—and new parents and

  newly engaged girls and .…” He shrugged .

  “Did you notice anything significant about those office workers?”

  Andy nodded . “I was going to ask you the same, since I was just

  guessing . I hadn’t had time to check it out .”

  “Well, I checked some . Practically none of my victims came from

  big offices, either business or industry. They were all out of one and

  two-girl offices or small businesses.”

  “That was my guess. And do you know that I didn’t find a doctor,

  dentist or attorney?”

  “Nor a single postal worker .”

  Andy tried to smile . “One thing we do know . It’s not a communi-

  cable thing . Thank heaven for—”

  He broke off as a cute blonde entered and put stacks of reports

  before both Andy and Bettijean. The girl hesitated, fidgeting, fingers

  to her teeth . Then, without speaking, she hurried out .

  Andy stared at the top sheet and groaned . “This may be some-

  thing . Half the adult population of Aspen, Colorado, is down .”

  “What?” Bettijean frowned over the report in her hands . “It’s the

  same thing—only not quite as severe—in Taos and Santa Fe, New

  Mexico .”

  “Writers?”

  THE PLAGUE, by Teddy Keller | 811

  “Mostly . Some artists, too, and musicians . And poets are among

  the hard hit .”

  “This is insane,” Andy muttered. “Doctors and dentists are fine—

  writers and poets are sick . Make sense out of that .”

  Bettijean held up a paper and managed a confused smile . “Here’s

  a country doctor in Tennessee . He doesn’t even know what it’s all

  about . Nobody’s sick in his valley .”

  “Somebody in our outer office is organized,” Andy said, pulling

  at his cigarette . “Here’re reports from a dozen military installations

  all lumped together .”

  “What does it show?”

  “Black-out . By order of somebody higher up—no medical re-

  leases . Must mean they’ve got it .” He scratched the growing stubble

  on his chin. “If this were a fifth column setup, wouldn’t the armed

  forces be the first hit?”

  “Sure,” Bettijean brightened, then sobered . “Maybe not . The

  brass could keep it secret if an epidemic hit an army camp . And they

  could slap a control condition on any military area . But the panic

  will come from the general public .”

  “Here’s another batch,” Andy said . “Small college towns under

  twenty-five thousand population. All hard hit.”

  “Well, it’s not split intellectually . Small colleges and small of-

  fices and writers get it. Doctors don’t and dentists don’t. But we

  can’t tell who’s got it on the military bases .”

  “And it’s not geographical . Look, remember those two reports

  from Tennessee? That place where they voted on water bonds or

  something, everybody had it . But the country doctor in another sec-

  tion hadn’t even heard of it .” Andy could only shake his head .

  Bettijean heaved herself up from the chair and trudged back to

  the outer office. She returned momentarily with a tray of food. Put-

  ting a paper cup of coffee and a sandwich in front of Andy, she sat

  down and nibbled at her snack like an exhausted chipmunk .

  Andy banged a fist at his desk again. Coffee splashed over the

  rim of his cup onto the clutter of papers . “It’s here,” he said angrily .

  “It’s here somewhere, but we can’t find it.”

  THE PLAGUE, by Teddy Keller | 812

  “The answer?”

  “Of course. What is it that girls in small offices do or eat or drink

  or wear that girls in large offices don’t do or eat or drink or wear?

  What do writers and doctors do differently? Or poets and dentists?

  What are we missing? What—”

  * * * *

  In the outer office a girl cried out. A body thumped against a

  desk, then a chair, then to the floor. Two girls screamed.

  Andy bolted up from his chair . Racing to the door, he shouted

  back to Bettijean, “Get a staff doctor and a chemist from the lab .”

  It was the girl who had been so nervous in his office earlier. Now

  she lay in a pathetic little heap between her desk and chair, whim-

  pering, shivering, eyes wide with horror . The other girls clustered at

  the hall door, plainly ready to stampede .

  “It’s not contagious,” Andy growled . “Find some blankets or

  coats to cover her . And get a glass of water .”

  The other girls, glad for the excuse, dashed away . Andy scooped

  up the fallen girl and put her down gently on the close-jammed

  desks . He used a chair cushion for a pillow . By then the other girls

  were back with a blanket and the glass of water . He covered the girl,

  gave her a sip of water and heard somebody murmur, “Poor Janis .”

  “Now,” Andy said brightly, “how’s that, Janis?”

  She mustered a smile, and breathed, “Better . I…I was so scared .

  Fever and dizzy…symptoms like the epidemic .”

  “Now you know there’s nothing to be afraid of,” Andy said,

  feeling suddenly and ridiculously like a pill roller with a practiced

  bedside manner . “You know you may feel pretty miserable, but no-

  body’s conked out with this stuff yet .”

  Janis breathed out and her taut body relaxed .

  “Don’t hurry,” Andy said, “but I want you to tell me everything

  that you did—everything you ate or drank—in the last…oh, twelve

  hours .” He felt a pressure behind him and swiveled his head to see

  Bettijean standing there . He tried to smile .

  “What time is it?” Janis asked weakly .

  THE PLAGUE, by Teddy Keller | 813

  Andy glanced to a wall clock, then gave it a double take .

  One of the girls said, “It’s three o’clock in the morning .” She

  edged nearer Andy, obviously eager to replace Janis as the center of

  attention . Andy ignored her .

  “I…I’ve been here since…golly, yesterday morning at nine,” Ja-

  nis said . “I came to work as usual and .…”

  Slowly, haltingly, she recited the routine of a routine work day,

  then told about the quick snack that sufficed for supper and about

  staying on her phone and typewriter for another five hours. “It was

  about eleven when the relief crew came in .”

  “What did you do the
n?” Andy asked .

  “I…I took a break and .…” Her ivory skin reddened, the color

  spreading into the roots of her fluffy curls, and she turned her face

  away from Andy . “And I had a sandwich and some coffee and got a

  little nap in the ladies’ lounge and…and that’s all .”

  “And that’s not all,” Andy prompted . “What else?”

  “Nothing,” Janis said too quickly .

  Andy shook his head . “Tell it all and maybe it’ll help .”

  “But…but .…”

  “Was it something against regulations?”

  “I…I don’t know . I think .…”

  “I’ll vouch for your job in this office.”

  “Well .…” She seemed on the verge of tears and her pleading

  glance sought out Andy, then Bettijean, then her coworkers . Finally,

  resigned, she said, “I…I wrote a letter to my mother .”

  Andy swallowed against his groan of disappointment . “And you

  told her about what we were doing here .”

  Janis nodded, and tears welled into her wide eyes .

  “Did you mail it?”

  “Y…yes .”

  “You didn’t use a government envelope to save a stamp?”

  “Oh, no . I always carry a few stamps with me .” She choked down

  a sob . “Did I do wrong?”

  THE PLAGUE, by Teddy Keller | 814

  “No, I don’t think so,” Andy said, patting her shoulder . “There’s

  certainly nothing secret about this epidemic . Now you just take it

  easy and— . Oh, here’s a doctor now .”

  The doctor, a white-headed Air Force major, bustled into the

  room . A lab technician in a white smock was close behind . Andy

  could only shrug and indicate the girl .

  Turning away, lighting a cigarette, he tried to focus on the tangle

  of thoughts that spun through his head . Doctors, writers, society ma-

  trons, office workers—Aspen, Taos and college towns—thousands

  of people sick—but none in that valley in Tennessee—and few gov-

  ernment workers—just one girl in his office—and she was sicker

  and more frightened about a letter—and .…

  “Hey, wait!” Andy yelled .

  Everyone in the room froze as Andy spun around, dashed to Bet-

  tijean’s desk and yanked out the wide, top drawer . He pawed through

  it, straightened, then leaped across to the desk Janis had used . He

  snatched open drawer after drawer . In a bottom one he found her

  purse . Ripping it open, he dumped the contents on the desk and

 

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