by Justin D'Ath
‘What did you do?’
Instead of answering, James asked a question of his own: ‘Do you remember Snowy?’
‘It’s what Officer Katt calls me.’
‘There was another Snowy,’ James said. ‘A rat.’
Colt stared at him. ‘A rat had a name!!?’
‘He was a pet.’
Suddenly Colt remembered the photo in his father’s wallet. Colt aged sixteen months, holding a big white rat. ‘Were you allowed to have pet rats back then?’
‘It was quite common,’ said James. ‘This was before rat flu. People had all sorts of pets.’
‘Even rats,’ Colt said wonderingly. He nearly laughed. ‘Snowy the rat!’
His father remained totally serious. ‘He was actually a lab rat. I suppose you know that your mother and I worked in a laboratory once upon a time?’
‘Yeah. I figured that out.’
‘She disapproved of some of the research being done there,’ James said. ‘She especially disapproved of how we used animals in our research. So one day, sort of as a joke, I saved one of the rats and brought it home.’
‘I saw the photo in your wallet,’ Colt said. ‘Was my hair really black?’
‘I’m getting to that,’ James said. He looked at his white-haired son. ‘Has your mother ever told you where rat flu came from?’
‘Someone at the laboratory was doing experiments with growth hormones to make farm animals grow bigger,’ Colt said. ‘They were using rats in their experiments and one of the rats had a virus. The virus and the hormones they injected into it morphed into rat flu.’
‘That’s more or less what happened,’ said his father.
‘Was Snowy the rat that started it?’
‘It was Snowy’s mother,’ James said. ‘As you probably already know, Colt, rats don’t die of rat flu. She showed no symptoms at all. But a few months later she had babies. They were identical to the other lab rats in every way but one – instead of having red eyes, their eyes were colourless.’
‘Ghost rats,’ said Colt.
His father nodded. ‘We didn’t suspect there was anything wrong with them. Apart from their oddly coloured eyes, they seemed perfectly normal and healthy. But unknown to us, each of those seven baby rats was a ticking time bomb. They all carried the rat-flu virus.’
‘And you brought one home,’ Colt said.
‘I brought one home,’ James said in a slow, sad voice. ‘And it became your pet.’
Colt looked at the old bite scar on his thumb. It was still there, but there was absolutely no trace of the terrible damage he’d done to his knuckles just half an hour earlier. ‘Was Snowy the ghost rat that bit me?’
‘He was. But something else happened first,’ James said heavily. ‘Something worse.’
‘What’s worse than getting bitten by a ghost rat?’ asked Colt.
‘Dying,’ his father said, so softly that Colt barely heard him.
Colt wondered who died. He didn’t want to ask, because James seemed pretty cut up about it. He finished his ice cream, then took a big bite from his tofu wrap.
Finally James started talking again. ‘Snowy’s mother was still alive, you see. Even after she had babies, she was still part of the experiment. It wasn’t until a few months later that we realised we had a super virus on our hands, when a laboratory technician accidentally pricked herself with a needle after giving Snowy’s mother a follow-up jab.’
‘What happened to the technician?’ asked Colt, even though he already knew the answer.
James took a slow, deep breath, like a swimmer about to go underwater. ‘At first, nobody knew why she’d died. But when they ran tests at the hospital, the pathologists discovered a virus they’d never seen before.’
‘Rat flu,’ Colt said.
His father nodded. ‘But back then nobody knew what it was. Emily – that was the technician’s name – had recently been overseas and everyone assumed that’s where she’d caught the mystery virus. But some of us back at the laboratory connected her death to the needle-jab, and to the experiments that had produced the strange, pale-eyed rats.’
Colt stopped eating. Suddenly he no longer felt hungry. ‘Who did the experiments?’
‘I wasn’t directly involved,’ James said, looking his son in the eye. ‘But I was in charge of the laboratory, so everything that happened there was my responsibility.’
‘Does Mum blame you for it?’
James licked a fingertip and rubbed a spot of spilled ice cream off Colt’s jeans. ‘Emily was your mother’s younger sister. She was saving up to go to university, so I gave her a summer job at the laboratory.’
Colt knew his mother had had a sister called Aunt Em, who’d died a long time ago, but she never talked about her. Just like she never talked about Colt’s father. ‘It wasn’t your fault that Aunt Em died,’ he said.
‘In a way, it was,’ James said. ‘I should have kept a closer eye on what was going on in my laboratory. And I should never have taken Snowy home.’
Colt remained silent. He thought he knew what happened next.
‘As soon as we connected Emily’s death to the mother of the pale-eyed rats,’ his father continued, ‘we destroyed her, her offspring and every other rat in the laboratory – in case they’d been infected, too.’
‘What about Snowy?’ Colt asked.
‘We forgot about Snowy.’ James sighed. ‘I forgot about Snowy. Everyone was panicking, you see – we didn’t want people outside the laboratory to hear about the virus. And for a while we thought we had it contained. But then there was a call from home.’
‘Oops,’ said Colt.
‘Oops indeed,’ said his father. ‘It was your nanny. She was phoning to say you’d been bitten by your pet rat, and asking should she take you to the doctor?’
‘I think I know the rest,’ Colt said. ‘Mum rushed home and gave me a monster dose of RatVax.’
‘That’s the official story,’ James agreed. ‘But it’s not what really happened.’
‘Then what did happen?’
James stared out his window again. ‘It’s true that we had a prototype version of RatVax by that stage,’ he said. ‘We’d got working on it as soon as we realised we’d produced a super virus – just in case our efforts to contain it hadn’t succeeded. But RatVax was never a cure for rat flu. It’s just a vaccine to stop animals from contracting it. And it was never intended for humans.’
‘So how did Mum save me?’
‘It wasn’t your mother who saved you,’ James said. ‘It was me. And I didn’t use RatVax. I took a gamble and gave you a shot of the experimental hormone that had partly caused the virus in the first place.’
Colt couldn’t help himself. ‘That’s crazy!’
‘Not as crazy as it might first sound,’ his father said somberly. ‘I’d done a lot of work with viruses and understood how they behaved. I thought the hormone might work against the altered version of itself in your bloodstream and produce an antivirus effect that might save your life.’
It was all a bit complicated for Colt – he wasn’t a scientist like his father (like both his parents). ‘Did it?’ he asked.
‘Well, it saved your life.’
‘So why was Mum mad at you?’
James sighed. ‘For everything, really. For Emily’s death. For bringing Snowy home in the first place. And for using an experimental hormone – a hormone that went on to produce the greatest calamity this planet has ever known – on our eighteen-month-old son.’
‘But it saved me!’ Colt cried, so loudly that Birdy peered back at them from down the front of the pod.
His father asked, ‘Have you ever seen photos of yourself as a toddler, Colt?’
‘Only the one in your wallet. Mum lost the rest when her old computer died.’
James got it out. ‘This is what you used to look like.’
‘But my eyes and hair are the wrong colours.’
‘They’re the right colours,’ James corrected him. ‘The co
lours they should be. But six hours after I injected you with the experimental growth hormone, your eyes turned blue and your hair went white.’
Colt stared at the photo of himself at sixteen months. At the brown eyes that would soon turn blue. At the black hair that would become snow white (and would one day earn him the nickname Snowy, just like the pet rat that had bitten him). ‘Does it really matter what colour my eyes and hair are?’ he asked.
‘It mattered to your mum,’ James said heavily. ‘It was the last straw, really. She said anyone who would do that to his son wasn’t fit to be a father.’
‘But you saved my life, Dad!’
James took the photo from him, smoothed it carefully with his thumb and forefinger, then slipped it back into his wallet. ‘Your life wouldn’t have needed saving, your mother said, if you didn’t have a mad scientist for a father.’
‘Are you still a scientist?’ Colt asked.
‘Not officially,’ James said. ‘I resigned as soon as we found out the extent of the catastrophe. Farm animals began dying in their thousands, zoos were closing down, dead birds, dead rabbits, even dead cats and dogs littered the streets. And the same thing was happening all over the countryside and in the forests and jungles everywhere. It was the end of the world as we knew it.’
‘The end of the Lost World,’ Colt said softly. ‘All because of Snowy.’
James shook his head. ‘It wasn’t because of Snowy. The virus was already out there. Even before I took Snowy home, it had found its way out of the laboratory – perhaps through the air-conditioning system; or on people’s clothing and shoes; maybe even in the water that flowed down the drains when we washed our hands. Birds and animals had begun dying before either Emily or you were infected, but nobody made the connection.’
‘So it wasn’t your fault,’ Colt said.
‘It was my fault,’ James insisted. ‘I was in charge of the laboratory, and everything that happened there was my responsibility. So I handed in my resignation and left.’
Colt wiped at the ice-cream stain on his jeans. ‘You didn’t answer my question. Are you still a scientist?’
‘I guess I still am,’ his father said. ‘But only in secret. I’ve set up a laboratory in my garage. For the past eleven years, I’ve been searching for a cure for rat flu.’
‘And now you’ve found it!’
‘No I haven’t,’ James said. ‘You shouldn’t have told everyone that I have.’
‘What about Enzyme-C?’ Colt asked. ‘It saved Birdy’s life when she got rat flu!’
‘Birdy was bitten by a ghost rat, wasn’t she?’ his father asked. Colt nodded. ‘So she had the original rat flu virus – the same one that killed Emily and nearly killed you. It can only be transmitted to humans by direct contact with ghost rats. But this new virus, RF2, seems to be passing from human to human.’
There were small HVs on the backs of the seats in front of them. Both were tuned to a news channel. Colt and his father weren’t wearing their earbuds, but a live update scrolled across the bottom of the screens. RF2 causes nationwide panic, 1500 new cases . . .
‘Will Enzyme-C cure them?’ Colt whispered. Suddenly it was hard to talk.
‘The virus has changed,’ James said, speaking softly, too. ‘Enzyme-C might not even work on RF2. And anyway, it’s spreading too fast.’
‘So what will we do?’
‘We’ll try to save your circus.’ James pointed up through the twin layers of transparent polymer that contained them.
High above the Blowpipe, and travelling in the same direction as the speeding pod (but not as fast), was a sleek orange helicopter. There was no sign of the other one – it must have turned back.
‘Even if we stop Officer Katt,’ Colt said, ‘won’t RF2 kill the animals anyway?’
‘There’s a good chance it won’t,’ said his scientist father. ‘Viruses are selective. Most of the ones that humans catch have no effect on other creatures.’
Colt frowned. ‘What will happen to us?’
James lowered his eyes from the orange helicopter to the empty, green landscape below it. Twelve years earlier, there would have been farm animals, birds and wildlife.
‘It might be our turn now,’ he said heavily.
Birdy came swaying down the aisle and sat next to Colt. She clutched the used cardphone in her hand, folded in half. ‘Mum said they saw us on HV.’
‘Are they all okay?’ he asked anxiously. ‘Has anyone got RF2?’
‘They’re all fine,’ she said. Her eyes lit up. ‘And guess what? Lucy’s having her baby!’
‘Right now?’
Birdy nodded. ‘The guards let your mother go and help.’
‘What guards?’ he asked.
‘The rat cop guards. Everyone has to stay in their motorhomes and caravans. They’re only allowed out to use the toilets or feed the animals. The guards go with them. There are quarantine locks on all the cages.’
‘They shouldn’t be in quarantine.’ Colt turned to his father. ‘Birdy reckons none of the circus staff have RF2.’
‘I heard,’ James said. ‘And I guess it proves that your animals aren’t to blame for the epidemic.’
Colt reached into his pocket for the HV transmitter glasses and microphone.
‘What are you doing?’ his father asked.
‘Going live.’
‘Is that a good idea?’
‘People need to know that RF2 didn’t come from the circus,’ he said.
James twisted round in his seat to look back at the helicopter. The pod was leaving it behind. ‘Our friend the Superintendent might work out where you’re transmitting from.’
‘Does that matter? We’re going to get there ahead of her anyway.’
‘But wouldn’t it be better to surprise her when she arrives?’
Colt smiled. His father wasn’t just good at science. He put the glasses and microphone away. ‘Birdy, did your mum say how many rat cops are guarding them?’
‘About six,’ she said. ‘They’ve all got stun guns.’
‘Do they know we’re coming?’
‘Mum does. But she reckons the rat cops have been arguing a bit. They saw what happened at DoRFE HQ and they don’t know if Superintendent Katt is their boss anymore.’
‘Cool! If it’s just me and Officer Katt, I’ll kick butt!’
James frowned. ‘Colt, remember what I said about showing off?’
‘It’s true, though,’ he said. ‘I’m Superclown.’
‘Even Superclown isn’t invincible,’ his father warned.
A recorded message played on the pod’s speakers: ‘Would all passengers please ensure that their seat-belts are fastened. This pod will be arriving in Wollaston Marsh in two minutes.’
It was already slowing down. Colt checked his seat-belt, then peered over his shoulder. Officer Katt’s helicopter was about ten kilometres behind them, but she wouldn’t be stopping in Wollaston Marsh. That was the only problem with the Blowpipe – it was fast, but the pods stopped at every town. An aeroplane would have been quicker.
Or a helicopter. It overtook them while they docked at Wollaston Marsh Air Station and the other passenger got out. Nobody else got on, but they were stopped for five minutes while the thrust tanks were re-pressurised. James bought a virtual newspaper at the kiosk and Birdy used the toilets. By the time the pod got going again, Officer Katt was nowhere in sight.
★★★
‘Here’s something interesting,’ Colt’s father said. He was reading an article about the RF2 outbreak. There was a map in the VN that showed all the towns where cases had been reported. ‘They’re all near lakes or rivers.’
Birdy swatted a mosquito. It must have got in while the pod was stopped. ‘Maybe there’s something in the water.’
‘Maybe,’ James said thoughtfully.
Another mosquito landed on Colt’s arm. His father swatted it with the VN.
‘Ouch!’
‘Sorry. It’s better than being bitten, though.’
/> ‘They don’t bother me.’ Colt rubbed his arm. ‘Actually, I bother them. They always die after they bite me.’
James looked at him seriously. ‘You’re having me on?’
‘He’s not,’ said Birdy. ‘They just fall off him and buzz about a bit, then die.’
‘I never have to wear insect repellent,’ Colt boasted. Then he noticed the way his father was looking at him and added, ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to show off.’
★★★
They overtook the helicopter halfway to the next town. But it caught up again and passed them while the pod was taking on two more passengers and re-pressurising. This happened three more times, until the Blowpipe curved left in a long, wide arc around some mountains and the helicopter went straight ahead.
Their second-last stop was Barren Plains Air Station. After that there was a straight run all the way to Culdesac. It was the longest leg of their journey and the pod whistled through the pipe like a bullet. The Your Journey option on Colt’s screen showed their speed was 503 kph, but he wished they would go faster. It was over an hour since they’d last seen Officer Katt’s helicopter.
‘Do you think she’s ahead of us?’ he asked.
Birdy rolled her eyes. ‘That’s six times you’ve said that.’
‘Seven,’ said his father.
‘Stop counting! I’m worried about the animals.’
They all were. It was very tense.
‘I wonder if Lucy’s had her baby yet,’ Birdy said.
Colt wondered if the baby elephant would still be alive when they got there. Officer Katt would probably kill it first. Then she’d kill Lucy.
A message played over the speakers: ‘This pod will arrive in Culdesac in two minutes.’
At last!
The taxi bay outside the Blowpipe station was deserted. There was a metal box on the wall, with a button and a speaker grille. James pressed the button and asked for a taxi.
A woman’s voice came out of the box. She sounded apologetic. ‘I’m afraid there’ll be a wait of up to forty-five minutes, sir. We have only three cars working today.’
‘Is that usual?’ he asked.