by B. C. CHASE
Doctor Ming-Zhen was perspiring profusely. He imagined its long fingers reaching for him, terror gripping his chest.
“And when you reached the suction vortex, it purposefully drove his submarine into yours, knocking you unconscious. Then, free of any constraint, it collected all the samples it wanted.” Zhang looked solemn, “Now we are facing a daunting challenge. We need your expertise.”
“What do you mean?”
“We have taken submersibles through the vortex, to the other side. We need you to help us with the abundance of life we have discovered. And, we are afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“We have lost some men already. We believe they have been taken by these . . . these ghosts. You are the only one who was able to resist. We need you with us. We believe that, as bizarre as this sounds, for some reason there is a power in you that they fear.”
“So I'm your laboratory experiment. Your laboratory rat. You want to bring me down to find out why or if it couldn't take me.”
Yue Zhang nodded grimly, “Yes. It could be said in a more amiable way, but yes that is true.”
Doctor Ming-Zhen said, “I cannot do it again. Two years it took me! Two years to recover! Plus there is my wife and my child to think about! What of them? What if something happens to me? What if I change. Again. What if I relapse?”
“You mean the psychological issues? The hallucinations? Zhou, I appreciate your concern. But think of this. You unwittingly discovered that we are not alone on this planet, in terms of intelligence. There is more than meets the eye. This has ramifications which we must face—extraordinary ramifications. Terrifying ramifications. Military ramifications. This has become a matter of national concern, international concern, really. It is your duty to your country to help us in this.”
“I risked my life once already for my country. Is that not enough?”
“I will not force you,” Zhang said, rising. “But there are others, my friend, who might not be so understanding.” He turned to leave, but then said, “Oh, and you leave tomorrow, for the cruise?”
“Yes.”
“A well-deserved holiday. Enjoy, my friend. And when you return, I hope you are prepared to serve your country once again.”
PARADEISIA
VIOLATION
OF
PARADISE
PRAISE FOR VIOLATION OF PARADISE
"INGRIGUING...DRAMATIC...GRABS THE READER BY THE ANKLES."
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"B.C.CHASE IS RAPIDLY BECOMING AN AUTHOR OF AUTHORITY." -GRADY HARP, VINE VOICE
"THIS SERIES IS KEEPING ME UP PAST MY BEDTIME…"
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"TURNED THE FINAL PAGE OF THIS BOOK AND LITERALLY SAID, 'NO!' THIS IS AN AWSOME BOOK."
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"THE WRITING STYLE REMINDED ME A LITTLE OF JURASSIC PARK... SKILLFULLY WRITTEN...CONSTANT SUSPENSE." -UVI POZNANSKY
"WONDERFULLY RESEARCHED." -D. ZEILER
VIOLATION OF PARADISE
PART TWO OF PARADEISIA BY B.C.CHASE
THE PARADEISIA TRILOGY:
ORIGIN OF PARADISE (PART ONE)
VIOLATION OF PARADISE (PART TWO)
FALL OF PARADISE (PART THREE)
ALSO BY B.C.CHASE:
THE STORY OF SANTA CLAUS (FANTASY)
B.C.HASE is the internationally bestselling author of Paradeisia: Origin of Paradise, Paradeisia: Violation of Paradise, and Paradeisia: Fall of Paradise. His titles have consistently reached the number one slots of science fiction, thriller, women’s adventure, and medical bestseller lists. He is regularly found on Amazon’s top 100 author lists for science fiction and action and adventure. His mastery of combining hard science with edge-of-your-seat suspense has earned him a reputation as an author of authority.
Copyright © 2016 B.C.CHASE
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Corporations, characters, organizations, or other entities in this novel are the product of the author's imagination, or, if real, are used fictitiously without any intent to describe their actual conduct.
Kinkajous are not a domesticated species: they are wild animals and are suitable as pets only for a handful of extremely dedicated individuals. Please do not allow my story to encourage you to make a commitment to an animal with a twenty-five-year lifespan if you are not absolutely certain it is a commitment you can keep.
In Memoriam
J.M.C.
CDC
“Mr. President! It's about—,” Karen stopped short. He looked so much older than she remembered. The stress must have overwhelmed him.
Everyone quietly stared at the man as he acknowledged her comment with a sad nod and strode to the head of the table, which Karen quickly vacated. There was a solid minute of silence as everyone stared in anticipation. He looked at each of the members of his cabinet individually and acknowledged them by name as if to give them, in one moment, the attention that had been due over the past year. His skin was remarkably wrinkled and he appeared to be in the grip of total exhaustion.
Finally, he said, “I'm here to get you in the loop.”
Karen moved towards him, “We think it's time you were in the loop, Mr. President. We're deliberating whether to quarantine Baltimore.”
The President motioned to Karen with a tired expression, “The National Forest Service just found a couple of dead beavers at Loch Raven. I know . . . I know more than you do.”
Karen lashed, “How could you know more than I do? You haven’t even been to any of our meetings!”
“Abael has kept me apprised.”
“Abael has kept you apprised! Abael has blocked me every step of the way! And he certainly doesn't know—”
His tone was suddenly provoked, “Abael is the hope for our future.” He growled, “You don't have any idea how important he is!”
Karen would have had a stinging reply, but she stopped at his words. What kind of a spell had Abael cast on him?
The President sighed, closed his eyes, and said, “All of you, you do not understand. This plague is nothing.” He stared at them, looking tired, and Karen noticed how wrinkled the corners of his mouth had become, how much grayer his hair was than she remembered it. “This is like swatting a single locust when a swarm is on the horizon.”
Someone said, “Mr. President, are you suggesting that there are more viruses to come? How could you know that?”
The President shook his head, “No. I'm not saying that at all, although it is a possible consequence. I'm saying that we don't have time to deal with a little virus compassionately. We need to be ready for what's coming. We must terminate this virus now. We cannot allow this to weaken us.”
Karen said, “Weaken us? You mean the administration?”
“No. I mean us,” he said, slapping his hand to his chest. “All of us, Karen. The human race.”
Suddenly hopeful that the President was on the same page, Karen said, “Well I'm glad you're talking about terminating the virus, because that's what we're talking about. I want to quarantine Baltimore.”
The President stated, “Did you ever find Dr. Richard Kingsley?” From his tone it was evident that he knew they had not.
Karen was immediately angry. How did he know all this and yet only now showed up to criticize? Through clenched teeth, she said, “How do you know about Kingsley?”
“Just because we haven't been meeting doesn't mean I'm ignorant of what's going on.” He sighed, “They pulled his car out of the Loch Raven reservoir yesterday. The water at the pumping stations just tested positive for the virus. And I already told you about the dead beavers. They contracted the virus. We have a bigger problem on our hands than you thought.”
General Fox said, “The Loch Raven Reservoir is the major drinking water source for Baltimore. If the virus c
ontaminated the water . . . .”
The President finished, “. . . it would be disastrous. Kingsley fell into the water six days ago, so that means people could have been drinking bad water for three to four days now.”
Karen scoffed, “Chlorination would kill the virus before anyone could possibly drink it.”
“You assume this is like most viruses. It isn't.”
Karen turned to Dr. Giordano, “Are you just going to sit there, Guy, or do you have something to contribute?” She immediately wondered why she had lashed out like that.
“He's right. It isn't like most viruses. It has a T3 capsid like the Norwalk virus.”
Secretary of Commerce Lisa Ching said, “English, if you don't mind.”
“The capsid is the protective protein coat of a virus. The Norwalk virus has been noted for its incredible resistance to chlorination.”
The President said, “So, perhaps tomorrow, the women of Baltimore will begin to die.”
“Let's not exaggerate. Everybody doesn't drink water from the tap,”
“Who here hasn't had a fountain drink within the last couple days?” the President asked. “You think they bring in bottles of Alpine spring water for that?”
Karen looked down. Then she accused, “Who’s been telling you all this?”
“I'm the President of the United States. I could know what you had for breakfast, Karen. This virus is the least of my worries. There are things going on to protect us that you can't even fathom. This isn't a game with scientific tinker toys. It's real.”
Karen didn't know if she should be insulted, afraid, or if she should wonder if the President was losing his mind. Had he lost his mind?
There was silence, except for the innocent ding of someone's cell receiving a message.
The President pursed his lips and then pressed his hands together in front of his face. “This has repercussions for everyone who has been in Baltimore. Even the aid workers who were servicing the quarantine in Towson. Everyone in the Baltimore area is a potential carrier, whether they came in to help or not. No one can be allowed out.”
Faces around the room fell, and Lisa Ching said, “So we sent them in . . . to die?”
“What do we do?” General Fox asked.
“First, nobody can know about this. As soon as anyone finds out, they will all try to flee and, in so doing, infect the rest of the nation.” The President looked to General Fox, “Whatever we do, though, you will be in charge of execution. Got that?”
The general nodded solemnly.
“Now, there are only two alternatives. The more humane is that we silently seal off the area and hope for the best. We could drop food, shelter, medicine, et cetera from the air. The more efficient, what Abael has proposed,” he paused, a far-off look in his eyes, “is total eradication. Nothing survives, the water boils, and this thing is ended—in an instant. So now . . . tell me . . .” he raised his painfully pleading eyes. “Which do I choose?”
Karen, in total disbelief, asked, “So you're talking about a nuclear explosion?”
“If that would do the job.”
“Killing everyone?”
He nodded, “And everything.”
Commerce Secretary Lisa Ching said, “This is unbelievable. How could you even consider—“
The President stood and slammed his fist on the table, shouting angrily, “Haven't I been clear enough with you people? We don't have time for this!” Raising a hand trembling with rage to touch his forehead, he growled, “I have had the weight of the world on my shoulders, all this time preparing, and it comes to this. I need your help.” He looked up into vacant space, “If this virus brings the world to its knees, how can we face the coming threat? How can we risk it?”
He sunk into the chair and said laboriously, “I wish I had never been President of these wretched, God-forsaken states. But here I am. Here we are. The virus is in the water. The water flows into the ocean. It has already exhibited high transferability. If it successfully infects a marine organism, it will spread over the globe and there will be no stopping it. We have to kill it now.”
“Mr. President,” Karen said, beginning to worry about him. He was tired, but something simply did not look right. His skin was dry and leathery.
“Yes, Karen,” his voice came in a weak rasp.
“The Chinese know about this threat you keep talking about, don't they? I saw you speaking with them.”
He nodded, leaving his head down.
Leaning down to try to look into his eyes, Karen said, “You must tell us what the threat is. We have a right to know.”
“I have,” he said, slumping forward slightly, as if he could not hold himself up, “I had thought to . . . .” She reached to hold him up, using his first name.
General Fox said, “Mr. President, we need to get you medical care.”
The President raised his finger, shaking his head. He collapsed in Karen’s arms. His weight was too much for her to support, and General Fox helped lower him to the floor on this back. He breathed heavily for a moment before falling totally silent.
Karen checked his pulse. Nothing. She started CPR, violently pounding his chest with her elbow. His ribs cracked, but despite her best efforts, she could not rekindle his heart.
As she stared at him, a tear made its way down her cheek despite herself.
VIOLATION
OF
PARADISE
SaiLine Paradise
The sun was high in the bright blue sky, and the only clouds were wisps of white. Li Ming-Zhen thought she was falling in love.
He had white teeth, brilliant brown eyes, a thick crop of short, carefree dreadlocks. Most eye-catching of all, though, and on vivid display as he lifted himself from the water to sit on the pool’s edge, was his muscular build.
She had been pretending not to stare at him for the last hour, but had caught his furtive glances as she slipped into the pool. Now, she strode across the busy deck and up two flights of stairs to a chaise that was draped with her towel. She dried off, spread the towel out on an adjacent chair, and reclined, closing her eyes to enjoy the warmth of the sun and the breeze on her body. She could faintly hear the crashing of the ocean against the ship, barely feel the gradual motion as the gigantic vessel very slowly swayed back and forth.
She had gone with her parents to register at the youth program yesterday—that was the first time she'd seen the guy. He was cruising with his mother. She'd overheard his age: seventeen. Li was sixteen.
Li had inherited her mother's quiet nature and was shy at first, though quickly warmed to people and transformed into a bubbly chatterer around those she knew well. Her father's fame had granted her notoriety, but she kept only a close circle of truly intimate friends.
The heat was getting a little intense on her stomach, so she rotated her body around to couch her head on her crossed arms.
She looked at her mother sleeping soundly on a chaise nearby, her mouth drooping open with her snores.
The guy seemed like he was really outgoing, interacting happily with strangers, participating in all the on-deck dances and silly contests; in a way, she envied him. It made her nervous to be in big crowds. He appeared to revel in it.
Li closed her eyes again. She was starting to doze.
Suddenly, she felt a shadow fall over her, heard something dripping. She opened her eyes and saw a pair of swim trucks, soaking wet. Raising her eyes into the blinding sunlight, she could barely make out the gleaming smile of the guy.
“I'm Donte. Are you Li?”
She felt butterflies all over. How did he know her name? She managed a reply, “Yes.”
“Can I sit?”
She nodded her head slowly, squinting up at him.
He took a seat on the chaise next to her and she rotated to her side so she could see him better, trying to look casual. “How do you know my name?” She had learned English well as part of her school curriculum, though she had an accent.
“You registered when I did.
I overheard,” he shrugged. “What's it mean?”
“What?”
Your name. Li.”
“Beautiful.”
He raised his eyebrows, leaning back, “Wow. Your parents got that one right.”
She laughed, “Thank you.”
“You want some ice cream? I'm paying,” he said.
She sat up, giggling, “You silly. The ice cream is free.”
“I didn’t know!” he said sarcastically. Then he shrugged with a sheepish grin and, standing, offered a hand. She clasped it, feeling a spark shoot through her. He easily pulled her to her feet.
As they walked down the staircase to the immense buffet restaurant where the soft serve and cones were available, she asked him, “Are you American?” She could already tell he was, but it was something to say.
He nodded, “Yeah. What about you?”
“China.”
“I figured.”
“What do you mean?”
“You were all alone. One Child Policy.”
“Oh,” she looked down. She wasn't sure if she should be offended. They had walked across the pool deck and now glass doors slid open, revealing the bustling restaurant. She said, “The One Child Policy is being eased, you know.”
“Yes, I know,” he said.
They had reached one of the soft serve machines, and he took a cone, “Looks like we have chocolate or vanilla today. What do you like?”
“Chocolate,” she said.
He smiled, “I knew that. You kept staring at me.”
She blushed, laughed, “I was not! You were looking at me, actually.”
He shrugged, “Hey, I was curious about you.”