by Lara Nance
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I need to leave. This is too much for me right now.”
“You’re going to stay and show that you have no animosity,” he whispered sternly. “That’s an order. This isn’t about you or Lola or any individual. I’ll remain and talk to you until you calm down. Later, you can apologize to Dr. Butler.”
She cast an evil glance at her mentor. Apologize? Had he gone mad?
He did stay with her, though, until personnel from the South entered the room with carts of steaming trays and other dining necessities, which they loaded on the side table. The aroma wafting from the covered containers set Ria’s stomach grumbling. The others seemed to have forgotten her outburst, so her discomfort faded slightly.
“Everyone grab a plate and we’ll continue our discussion,” Dr. Skinner said. “I hope you will enjoy some authentic southern cuisine.”
Ria buried her irritation. She hadn’t had a decent meal in days. She loaded her plate with fried chicken strips, mashed potatoes, some sort of sautéed green vegetable, and fluffy biscuits. A pan of peach cobbler beckoned, as well, but she left that until she finished the heaping amount she’d already taken. The other Northerners also took liberal portions, happy to stray from their normal restricted diet. If their side had furnished food, they would likely serve Nutro-bars and vitamin water. She’d heard the South didn’t have mandatory fitness time either, and judging by the paunch on Dr. Skinner, she believed it.
“So finding this parasite in the Gulf of Mexico is a big deal?” Dr. Skinner settled his mounded plate on the table. “You’re sure it could be a source of this deviant behavior?”
She swallowed a buttery bite of potato, savoring the rich flavor. Screw it. She would make mashed potatoes when she got home. With butter. “The issue is that it’s the only thing so far that’s out of place. I’ve only analyzed five of the samples. There could be more evidence, but at this point, it would be better to take the samples to our lab, which has finer diagnostic calibration and a more extensive database.”
“I agree,” Dr. Butler said cautiously. “I have a new approach to take with my own samples. I need to return to my lab, as well.”
Dr. Skinner shot him a hard look, but Dr. Manson said, “That seems the best course for now. There is nothing new to discuss until we have another episode. We have our respective programs for containment, implemented by our governments. It’s up to us to solve the puzzle of why. With all of our labs working on the problem, I’m optimistic we’ll have a solution soon.”
“I suggest that we preempt a future investigation of a new outbreak by having our governments approve cross-border visitation before another event happens,” Dr. Carter said. “I have a feeling we’re going to need both groups on the scene from now on.”
Most of the others nodded.
“A great idea,” Louis said. “For now, I’d like to adjourn. If we leave in the next hour, we can be in Omaha by morning.”
Ria suppressed a groan. Great, traveling all night, even in the luxurious T-10, would be a pain. If only they could suspend the no-fly zone for this group since they’d suspended so many other rules in the past couple of days. But the professor was right. They needed analysis and they needed it fast. No time to wade through a tangle of bureaucracy.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, although it was brief.” Dr. Butler rose and offered his hand. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
She shook it, regretting her behavior. “Thank you, Dr. Butler. It’s I who should apologize. I hope you understand it wasn’t directed at you. I’m tired and sad, that’s all. I’m sure we’ll be communicating some now that we have the SatNet group.”
“Of course. Please, call me Linc.”
His sky blue eyes made her uncomfortable with their directness and flicker of sympathy. Warmth crawled up her neck. “Very well. Then you should call me Ria.”
“If you have any questions about the samples, feel free to contact me.”
“Of course. And if you have any more attacks, let me know.” She broke from his lingering gaze and made busy loading her backpack. It was big of him to apologize, and now she regretted her outburst. Too bad he was from the South. She’d have actually liked getting to know him better. He seemed so different from her mental picture of him from the media reports.
The group said goodbyes and headed to their different sides of the wall. Dr. Manson gave his folks five minutes to gather their belongings and meet in the hanger. Fortunately, she hadn’t unpacked any of her possessions, so leaving was a matter of repacking the scanner and grabbing her bag from her room.
She had a long ride ahead of her, but she couldn’t wait to see Conner and make sure he fared well. If he wanted to stay with her, she’d let him. He’d only hear stories of training and competing in the Great Obstacle Race from her retired father, and her mother stayed too busy with her on-line translation business to care full-time for a curious, growing boy who still needed nurturing.
After settling in the back of the T-10, she unpacked the scanner to place on the seat in front of her, beside Louis. The battery would last ten hours, so by the time they reached Omaha, she could complete the first pass of the samples. That would save her time, and she could focus on anything suspicious in more detail when they reached the university.
She studied the big man across from her. His head down, he stared at his pad screen as his finger moved swiftly across its surface. Some flicker of doubt stirred inside her. Why did she sense something else going on behind the scenes? Probably because he’d mentioned the government providing dossiers on the Southern members. But then, the South had done the same, surely.
Why had it taken such a crisis for the two sides to finally collaborate on something? Of course, they had proven some of her preconceived notions as wrong. Linc was nothing like she’d imagined, and the rest of the Southern group had acted cordial and open. Imagined hatred and stereotypes built on past assumptions kept the two sides hostile and suspicious. And yet, definite differences remained. Were the disagreements so great the two people, once so closely related, remain forever exiled from each other?
The scanner beeped, and she leaned forward to insert another slide. It took them a hundred years to get to this point. It might take a hundred more for any true reconciliation.
“Anything?” Louis asked, peering up from his pad. The other members in the vehicle gave her an anxious look.
She studied the read-out. “No. All normal.”
“That’s good and bad,” Dr. K said. “At least if you find something, we know what we’re up against.”
The group returned to their pads except Dr. Patel who closed his eyes and slumped in his seat.
“Let me know if you hear anything from that Dr. Butler,” Louis said in a low voice. “I hope you apologized.”
She leaned back and studied him moment. “All right, if you’ll tell me why you’re so intrigued with him. Didn’t any of the other members interest you? Why is it so important that I get along with him?”
“Just a hunch that he may be valuable to us. Nothing more.” His gaze slid away.
Right. Did he try to match-make? That made her even more suspicious, which brought out her stubborn streak. Maybe she’d tell him. Then again, maybe not.
***
Linc sent up a silent prayer of thanks that he’d brought his own vehicle to the border. He’d had about all of Skinner’s preachy directions as he could take. Why the South had elected the man as the group leader eluded him. But then Skinner made large donations to the government every year. Who cared if the South didn’t have taxes like the North when the donations expected from citizens amounted to the same thing? And the more a person gave, the better he had it. His kids were eligible to go to the best schools, he could apply for a better house in a better neighborhood, he received better food choices and even his job promotions depended on his donations.
This system had caused their current situation. The rich rose to the top because they had money to make lar
ge donations while the poor sank further and further from the privileges of citizenship. Now the rich used their clout to support voter suppression in low-income areas. Some wanted to withhold voting rights to those in the poverty camps completely, arguing they didn’t work enough to support their citizenship. IPP stood poised to strike at this broken system, but now with the current crisis, the coup might become impossible. Human survival might take precedent over political inequality.
In a brighter part of his brain that still believed in hope, he dared to think the attacks might be isolated and over. But his gut suspected different. This was bad. As bad as anything humans had ever faced. And instinct told him the dam was about to break.
Chapter Nine
Linc barely reached his apartment when alerts went off, sending a tingle of energy rushing through him. His phone, his tech pad, his home comm unit all lit with red emergency lights and blared their shrill call of alarm. He turned everything off but his home comm.
“Linc Butler,” he said, lowering his trip bags to the floor.
“Boss, we got another problem.” Jeff’s voice sounded shaky, scared.
“What happened?” His heart pounded. Damn, they hadn’t even had time to delve into the possibilities of the parasite Ria had found.
“It’s bad. Just got a call from an army unit in Cameron, Louisiana. People started killing each other. At this point, they think most of the people involved are dead, but at least one man who’d attacked others ran from the town, and another escaped in a small boat to Monkey Island.”
“Shit.” He balled his hand into a fist and sweat popped on his forehead. “I have to get down there. Have they been able to contain the area?”
“The National security forces just arrived, and the town is now isolated. But, Linc, they don’t have two of the people, maybe more. You know what that means.”
“The spread is not contained. I’m going to get a hover-copter to the town right away. Can you meet me and bring as much equipment as you can?”
“You’re going down there?” Jeff spoke quickly, his voice a little higher than usual.
“I have to. We need samples. I need to see the victims and what happened.” He shoved his tech pad into his backpack. Good thing he was already packed.
“But, what if this is, um, contagious?” The younger man’s voice quivered.
“It’s not airborne or we’d already have it. Bring your containment gear and meet me there.” He spoke in a terse tone. “That’s an order.”
He ran to his car and squealed tires backing from his driveway. After calling Skinner, who ordered a hover-craft for his use from the local military, he made a voice entry on the SatNet site for the entire group.
“Hey, gang, it’s me, Linc. We have another attack involving humans. The worst yet. I’m headed to Cameron, Louisiana where it occurred right now. I’ll send more information when I arrive.” He paused. “And guys, at least two men they identified as infected escaped. This problem just escalated to a whole new level.”
***
Ria stared at the printout, frowning. The whale brain scan on their big scanner did not identify Pleistophora mulleri. It didn’t list it at all. Instead, a code of 9999 showed, indicating an unknown organism. She rubbed her tired, burning eyelids. Was she hallucinating? The seagull and human brains had the same result. All showed a 9999.
“Louis, take a look at this,” she called across the lab. “The scanner is identifying this as a brand new species.”
He lumbered over from his desk and stared at the screen. “Hmm. Now that is very interesting. I think it’s time to look at our mystery guest. Now that you’ve finished the scans, go ahead and isolate this organism.”
She entered the information for the machine to extract the unknown parasite and contain it in a separate sealed slide. She tapped her fingernails on the side of the scanner, waiting. In a few seconds, the new slide ejected along with the old slide. Whatever 9999 was, it was invisible to the naked eye. The slide appeared like a piece of clear glass.
“Got it,” she said and joined him as he programmed the micro-vid device.
“All right, that should do it.” He ran a finger over the panel. “Let’s see what we have.”
She inserted the slide, and the mechanism whirred as it took in the sample and brought the item to focus. Louis leaned closer as the blob of 9999 came into view and sharpened.
“It actually looks like Pleistophora mulleri from here,” she said, looking over his shoulder.
He made a humming sound. “You are correct, except for this little difference. So small the portable scanner miss-identified it.” He pointed to a tiny green sphere. “That, my dear Miss Moralez, is a virus.”
“And the virus has changed the DNA…”
“Creating a whole new parasite, cleverly disguised as Pleistophora mulleri,” he finished, his eyes glowing from the new discovery.
“Do you think this is the culprit?” A rush of adrenalin forced fatigue from her body. Other than a few fifteen minute naps in the T-10, she’d gone without sleep for more than forty-eight hours.
“I’d say the chances are good, given the original parasite’s ability to turn shrimp into voracious cannibals.” He straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. “There were also no other strange findings in the samples.”
“True. So there’s a strong possibility this virus has mutated our friendly shrimp parasite into a multi-species killing machine.”
“An educated guess at this point. We’ll need more information, but I’m afraid the pieces of the puzzle are taking their place in the grand scheme.”
“There’s only one problem,” she said, rubbing her temples with her fingertips. “How do we kill it?”
“Not just how do we kill it,” he said. “How do we kill it without destroying the host organism? I’d further guess this parasite has invaded certain other strains of shrimp at this point. Somehow the Irish Pleistophora mulleri relocated to the Gulf of Mexico and became infected. It began to inhabit shrimp as it did in its home environment. However, what we’re seeing is this parasite adapting very quickly. Let me rephrase that, miraculously fast. It’s now able to transfer from the host shrimp to the organisms that eat the shrimp.”
“Dear God.” Her heartbeat thrashed in her ears. She placed a hand over her heart and staggered back until she hit a table. “This is…”
“A gigantic catastrophe,” he said. “We need to let everyone on the team know. If you’ll take care of that, I’ll notify the government.”
She gulped a breath and headed for her desk. When she arrived, her pad alarm lit. A message from Linc. As if things couldn’t get any worse. Infection moved too fast for her to process the calamity. Their world was in peril from a tiny organism so small it required special magnifying equipment to see. A strong urge to run from the lab and hide in her apartment nearly overwhelmed her.
“Ria!” The growl from Louis meant he’d seen the message, as well. He barreled to her desk, his eyes wide. “Did you see this?”
She could only nod, her voice frozen from shock and fear.
“I want you down there,” he said. “We can’t let these Southerners muck up the samples.”
“I…”
“Ria, come on. We have to stop this thing.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet.
“I know, I know.” She squeezed her eyelids shut, which made her eyes burn worse. Her sleep-deprived brain whirled like the windmills at The Divide, not pausing long enough for a plan to form.
“Look, I’ll get you a transport. They’ll have to let you through the air-space now that this has happened.” He raced to his desk. She’d never seen him move so quickly.
She pressed her palms on either side of her head until her mind cleared. God, she needed sleep. Louisiana. Samples. Right. They needed more information on the parasite. Maybe they’d get lucky and obtain live samples this time. Her wobbly legs managed to withstand her weight as she stood. She needed to get it together. People
depended on her. An image of Conner flashed in her head.
“Come on, grab your bag.” Louis hurried to her. “I’ll go with you to the military base. The Triumvirate has authorized you to use one of their hover-copters and they’ll contact the South about crossing over. Take the portable scanner, too.”
He thrust the pack at her and took hold of her upper arm as she looped the strap of her travel bag over one shoulder and her backpack over the other. Her insides churned with fear and anxiety, but her determination managed to force them aside for the moment.
“Wait, I’ll need a new sample kit,” she pulled from him and took a container from the shelf above the scanner and shoved it in her backpack.
“All right, let’s go,” he said and headed for the door.
In the end, the crossover wasn’t as simple as Dr. Manson had hoped. The South agreed to allow the Northern hover-craft to land outside the North’s side of the fortress, she was hurried through the gate and boarded a copter belonging to the South on the other side.
“Miss Moralez, I’m Erin Graves.” A young woman with brown hair in a severe bun at the nape of her neck greeted her as she entered the copter. Her smile seemed genuine, although with a trace of concern. “I’ll be your escort to Louisiana, and I’ll answer any questions you have.”
“Thank you,” she said as she took the seat Erin indicated. “How long until we arrive?”
“Two hours approximately,” Erin said. “May I get you anything?”
At least the seat was comfortable. Soft recessed lights lit the interior, and plush seats adjusted to different positions. This rode more like a commercial craft than a military one, although the paint on the sides declared it a unit of the ROS army.
“Thanks, I’d love a pillow and a blanket. I haven’t slept in a couple days.” She yawned.
“Of course. Anything to drink?”
“A huge cup of coffee when we get there,” she said.
***
Linc stared through the window of base headquarters as the copter carrying Ria arrived. Dr. Manson had alerted the group that she headed Linc’s way, and the South’s government had given him the details of her arrival. He still couldn’t believe they’d allowed her to travel here. At least the governments took this threat seriously.