The Viral Epiphany

by Richard McSheehy

  “But Alan, I’m scared. Are you sure we’re doing the right thing? What’s going to happen? And, can these men really run the country without you?”

  “Shhh, Grace,” he said putting a finger to her lips, “Don’t worry, in the end everything will be fine. I have it all worked out.”

  He took her lightly by the arm and led her to the waiting delivery van. The driver opened the rear door and the President and his wife climbed in a seat that faced sideways. In front of them was a stack of cardboard boxes, each of them emblazoned with the same words that were printed on the sides of the vehicle: Bellevue Breads and Cakes, Arlington, VA.

  “Take us to Andrews Air Force Base,” he said to the driver. President Cranston and his wife then settled into the back seat as best they could, and the truck slowly drove forward and out the gate.

  Twenty-Six

  A freshening breeze from the north jostled the branches on the tall oaks and poplars that grew on the campus of University College Cork near the banks of the River Lee. The clean, invigorating scent of arctic air washed over the campus, and although it carried a slight chill, the cool clarity of the winds also carried a sense of hope and promise that the air that bathed this green and fertile land would remain pure and help to sustain life for its people. As the treetops swayed in unison with the northerly winds, the waters of the Lee, running fast and clear from the recent rains, swept past in swirling spirals. Gurgling and leaping, the splashes and eddies seemed to echo the laughter of water fairies as they raced ever downward to the sea.

  Ireland, the ancient and sacred land of the Celts whose high kings knew its lush, green, life-giving hills and valleys to be the very body of the goddess Eire, had now become Fortress Ireland. Cut off entirely from the outside world and wrapped in a shroud of mist and mystery, no outsider was allowed to navigate its waters or penetrate its borders under decree from that modern day successor of the high king, the Taoiseach of Ireland. Ireland had a standing procedure for sealing its borders. The last time this had been employed, three years earlier, was due to an outbreak of foot and mouth disease in British cattle. The quick action by the Irish government had saved Irish cattle ranchers from the devastation that had occurred to their counterparts in Britain when over five million infected cattle had to be destroyed.

  This time was, however, different. The ban was not only on agricultural products entering Ireland; it was on everything. Not a single aircraft, not a single ship or boat, nothing was allowed into Ireland. The small, but resolute, defense forces of the island nation were now guarding its coasts against the worst catastrophe in the history of the modern world. Yet, even these staunch Warriors of Ireland, the oglaigh na hEireann, knew in their hearts that their coastline was too long and rugged, the seas too rough, the rains and the nights too dark. Sooner or later some poor refugee, someone desperate to escape the scourge of the Fever, would find a way to this land and this one person, seeking only refuge and safety, would carry the disease even to this last haven.

  A way had to be found to combat the disease directly and no one knew this better than Dan Quinn. Sheila stood behind Dan while he typed on the computer keyboard with Brendan sitting at his side, giving him input from his notes now and then. They were using one of the computer workstations at the University’s Boole Library because the entire Biosciences Building was still closed for repairs due to the fire.

  The venerable library was named after George Boole, the first professor of mathematics at the university. Over one hundred and fifty years ago George Boole not only taught mathematics here, he also invented an entirely new system of algebra that bears his name today, Boolean algebra. It became the mathematical basis for the operation of all modern computers, even the massively parallel supercomputer that the three researchers were now accessing. Professor Boole would have been proud.

  “OK,” Dan said, turning back to Sheila, “I’ve imported the code for the vaccine that Brendan created, and I’ve also started manipulating the genetic code for the virtual mammoth virus that I created based upon Brendan’s discovery of the viral DNA in the mammoth tissue.”

  “You’re manipulating the genetic code for the viral DNA?” Sheila asked.

  “Yes. I have instructed the supercomputer to build several thousand variants of the viral code based upon potential interactions with known present day viruses. This will give us a set of essentially all the possible hybrid viruses that could cause a disease that could be transmitted to humans.”

  Dan smiled for a moment, satisfied that they had done all they could do. “Now all we need to do is to let the supercomputer run a few hundred thousand sets of multivariable simulations and then we’ll see how well Brendan’s vaccine performs. Here’s hoping…” he said as he pressed the ENTER key.

  The final step in the process would require the use of one additional program, the Vaccine Effectiveness Simulation Program (VESP). It had been the brainchild of Dan three years earlier. He had designed the top-level structure of the program and the executable code had been written, under Dan’s direction, by a team of students at the University. So far it had only been used in tests on known vaccines where the actual effectiveness was already known. The program had always returned remarkably correct results.

  “How long will the entire simulation take?” asked Brendan.

  “It really depends upon the number of independent variables and the starting point of the simulation. Even though we are making use of over ten thousand computing nodes, the program can still take a long time to converge to a solution.”

  “Oh,” Brendan said looking slightly disappointed, “So, it’s possible that this may not even work?”

  “We’ll just have to wait and see,” Dan said, “but even if it converges very quickly it will still take a while, so why don’t we head over to the Glucksman for a cup of tea? There’s nothing else we can do here. What do you think?” Less than a minute later they were walking down the gray, stone-paved walkway towards the café enjoying the warmth of the sun on their faces as the cool northern breezes hurriedly pushed one last remaining, small, white cloud from a deep blue sky …

  It was only after they had each settled into their chairs in the café, and they had sipped their first taste of the steaming hot tea, that Dan settled back a little in his chair and let himself relax. He smiled as he looked out the large window and saw a young boy and his father cast their fishing lines from the bank of the river. Then he looked at Sheila and Brendan with a more serious look on his face.

  “Remember those two men the gardai caught in the parking lot the night my office was bombed? I need to tell you what the Garda captain told me about them.”

  “I thought you had already told us,” Sheila said. “They were sent by this Omega organization because you had received those letters. They were a hit team right?”

  “Yes, but there’s more,” Dan said, “a lot more.” Sheila and Brendan leaned forward while Dan looked around. There were no other customers within earshot. “The two men confessed everything they knew. Everything. Apparently the gardai detectives are very persuasive.”

  Sheila and Brendan were paying rapt attention but said nothing. Outside the young boy was taking a small fish from his line. He threw it back into the river.

  “It seems that the letters didn’t tell quite the whole story about Omega. It turns out that they have become a very large and powerful office in the U.S. Department of Defense. I have no idea which branch of the military they report to or if they are completely independent. I do know this: they are on the verge of creating an extremely lethal bio-warfare capability. It sounds like it’s already been tested!”

  “What!” Sheila exclaimed, “They’re testing biological weapons?” She looked over at Brendan and saw that he too looked incredulous.

  “Not exactly,” Dan said, “They used some sort of harmless material that they sprayed over a U.S. city with some kind of new stealth aircraft. They were testing the distribution system. I don’t know how far along they are in creat
ing the actual disease. But I would guess that if they are testing delivery systems then the weapon is probably pretty well developed too. I keep thinking about Tim’s letter, and how he wanted me to stop them.”

  “Dan!” Sheila said, “What are you talking about? There’s no way you could prevent them from doing anything, and besides, they’re already trying to kill you!”

  “She’s right, you know,” Brendan said, “You should just lay low and hope they forget about you.”

  Dan drank the last of his tea in a single gulp and then replied, “Don’t worry about that. The gardai were able to send a false message back to Omega headquarters through the agents’ communications equipment. Omega probably thinks the agents have succeeded and that I’m already dead.”

  “What happened to the agents?” Sheila asked, “The gardai didn’t…did they?”

  Dan smiled at the look on her face. “No, the agents are being held in prison under the strictest guard. No one from Omega will ever hear from them again.”

  “Not ever?” Sheila asked with a look of astonishment on her face.

  “I’m afraid they are in a game that is played for keeps, Sheila. No, not ever.”

  “Even so,” Brendan said, “I think you should just keep a very low profile. There’s no way you can fight them.”

  “I know. But Tim was right. They need to be stopped.”

  “OK,” Brendan said, “But what can you do? What can any of us really do?”

  Dan looked out the large plate glass window again and saw the young boy with the fishing pole. He was excitedly reeling in another small fish from the Lee. “I don’t know,” he said, turning back to Brendan, “but maybe, somehow, I have a role to play.”

  “I think that’s true,” Sheila said, “but it’s not for us to see that now. Meanwhile, you don’t have to worry about another attack from Omega, and that’s really good news!”

  “You’re right,” Dan said smiling at last, “I think I’m safe there.”

  “Good,” Sheila said with a look of relief on her face. She finished the last of her tea and then looked from Brendan to Dan. “Anyone want to go back and check the computer with me?”

  “Sure,” Dan said standing up from the table. “Now, let’s say we find that the computer says it will be effective. What do we do?” They walked together out the door of the café and began walking towards the library on the upper campus.

  “Good question,” Brendan said, “I only made a few doses and we don’t have the capability to make many ourselves. Where do we go from here?

  “Just down the street,” Dan said pointing towards the road to Wilton, “we have everything we need right down there.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sheila asked as she looked where he was pointing. She could only see a line of cars caught in the usual traffic jam heading out of the city.

  “The pharmaceutical industry. They’re just over in Wilton, and Bishopstown, and also in Mallow, and Fermoy. They’re everywhere,” Dan said as his face came alive with a sense of vision. “Remember, years ago, when Ireland’s economy really took off and the rest of Europe began calling us the Celtic Tiger?”

  “Of course,” Sheila replied, and Brendan said, “I was pretty young then.”

  “They called us the Celtic Tiger because our economy was the fastest growing economy in the world. Remember why? The pharmaceutical companies, along with the IT industries, played a major role. They moved here and set up enormous manufacturing plants all over Ireland, including a whole bunch around Cork city – and the plants were brand new. That meant that they had the most modern production capabilities. If the supercomputer shows that the vaccine is effective, these plants could make millions of doses very quickly.”

  “And, you know what, they won’t have to use the old and slow, traditional egg method of making a vaccine either!” Brandon said feeling the excitement grow within him.

  “Absolutely. The genetic engineering techniques these companies use allow them to fabricate vaccines entirely synthetically.”

  “And they’re all around us!” Sheila said looking back at Dan, “Dan we really can do this! These companies can create enough vaccine to protect every person in Ireland!”

  “Maybe even more,” Dan replied, “Maybe our industries could even ship vaccine to other parts of the world.”

  In their growing excitement they began walking more quickly towards the Boole Library. As they climbed the stone stairway to the courtyard a sudden gust of cool wind brushed Sheila’s long curls across her eyes. She brushed them back with her hand and she looked up at the sky. Clouds were beginning to move in now and a lone blackbird was flying away to the east. While they had been enjoying their tea the wind had changed and it was now blowing in from the west. “We’d better hurry, I think,” she said.

  They hastened their pace and were only fifty yards from the library entrance when the rain began falling, softly at first, but then, within seconds, large drops of rain began to appear. They sprinted the last twenty yards and reached the doors as the cloud burst and heavy rain began splattering on the courtyard and tiny rivulets of water started running across the paving stones and down the stairway to the quadrangle. The high tower of the administration building grew darker as the rainfall wetted the old rock and it took on an even more brooding and forbidding appearance.

  Inside the library, the three friends turned their backs on the glass doors and happily brushed off the few raindrops that had landed on their coats. Barely able to contain their growing tension, they almost ran to their computer terminal. The screen showed that the program had completed its execution several minutes earlier.

  “Oh, my God!” Brendan shouted, “Look at the numbers!” Dan and Sheila looked at the display. After testing Brendan’s vaccine against the thousands of possible likely variants of the original virus, the program had estimated that the vaccine would be at least 99.3% effective. “That’s incredible!” Brendan said.

  Dan couldn’t contain his joy. He happily hugged Brendan then shook his hand wildly. “Congratulations, Brendan! You’ve done it! We can beat this disease now!” He turned to Sheila and he swept her into his arms and kissed her and he felt his kiss returned. He slowly let go and looked into her eyes and in that brief moment he saw hope and joy and a love that mirrored his own.

  A moment later there was a loud boom and a bright flash as lightning struck the tall battlements on the Administration building. Sheila looked around to the window but the old tower was undamaged. It had been struck many times in the past and it was still unscathed; however, the rain had now increased to a downpour. She watched as the west wind began to blow harder and the towering trees that hung over the courtyard began to sway violently to and fro. She shivered slightly and turned back to Dan and said, “Hold me tight, Dan. I’m afraid there is some nasty weather ahead.”

  Twenty-Seven

  The fast attack submarine, SSN Seawolf, was submerged and cruising far from its homeport of Bremerton, Washington. It carried a full supply of torpedoes and cruise missiles, with two sets of interchangeable warheads for each missile. One of the sets was made of conventional warheads, similar to those that had been used in the Iraq war. The other set was nuclear. The Seawolf had been on patrol for slightly more than two months and was now fifty miles due south of Nantucket Island. As it prepared to change heading for an extended trip to the north Atlantic, it received an urgent message. Captain Donald Andrews took the folded paper from the communications officer and checked his watch before he began reading. It was six o’clock in the evening, Eastern Standard Time, too early for the normally scheduled message traffic of the day.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  TOP SECRET TOP SECRET TOP SECRET

  MESSAGE PRIORITY: FLASH

  URGENT MESSAGE TO CMDR SSN SEAWOLF: ABORT CURRENT MISSION. REPEAT, ABORT CURRENT MISSION.

  PROCEED IMMEDIATELY TO SUBASE NLON TO TAKE ON VIP PASSENGERS.
PASSENGERS WILL PROVIDE DETAILS OF NEW MISSION VERBALLY ON ARRIVAL. ESTIMATED TIME OF ARRIVAL OF PASSENGERS IS 0400 TOMORROW AT SUBASE NLON.

  JOINT COMSUBPAC/COMSUBLANT SENDS

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  What the hell? Captain Andrews said to himself. Whoever heard of a message coming from both COMSUBPAC and COMSUBLANT? That’s a Pacific command admiral and an Atlantic command admiral! Two admirals sending joint orders to me? This can only be trouble, big trouble…

  He thought about the message for only a few seconds more and then shouted “Helm!” as he put the message down on his lap, “Come to new heading 230 degrees. Proceed to SUBASE New London, Connecticut at maximum speed!”

  Beneath the gently rolling surface of the eastern Atlantic Ocean, as the Cunard Lines RMS Queen Mary II passed almost directly overhead, the most advanced nuclear submarine in the world abruptly changed course. Its single, multi-bladed propeller rapidly increased its rotations as the submarine’s nuclear reactor easily generated the needed power. A minute later its fleeting form, like an underwater ghost, was racing towards the mouth of Connecticut’s Thames River while the passengers on the Queen Mary II enjoyed their afternoon tea.

  Several hours later, as it approached land in the early darkness of the evening, the Seawolf quietly slowed and surfaced. It passed by the New London Ledge Lighthouse unacknowledged, and then slowed to less than ten knots as it entered New London harbor. Its low-lying black hull and dark gray sail with its camouflaged periscopes were nearly invisible in the dim light to any chance observer on the shore.

  Thirty minutes later, after tying up at the New London dock, most of the crew were given six hours liberty, along with strict orders to be back on the boat and ready to set sail by 4 a.m. The crew were well-trained and well-disciplined; however, after two months at sea aboard the submarine they were eager to enjoy whatever New London had to offer. New London, however, is not renowned for its nightlife, and, eventually, most of the men found their way across the Thames River and settled for one of the bars or clubs on Bank Street. The simple experience of moving around in open space and breathing fresh air was enough to make the men almost euphoric, for a while at least. Then, because they were submariners and unlike other Navy sailors, they all headed back to their boat. The crew, to a man, were all present and accounted for on board the Seawolf at 3 a.m. and all, except for the Officer of the Deck, were below, at their duty stations. The OOD, as he was called, remained at his watch station on the bridge, in the submarine’s sail, where he maintained his lookout for the mysterious VIPs that were mentioned in the orders.