“Ozzie!” the president said jovially, with his best politician smile habitually pasted to his face, despite the caller’s inability to see him.
“Mr. President,” Zahn said. Helghul listened from beside him, impressed.
“I’m calling about one of your companies … they’ve done some work with a particularly vicious strain of virus.”
“I keep my distance from the day to day of my investments. Not my area of expertise. I prefer the starlets and casting couches,” he said, chuckling.
“We both know there isn’t anything you don’t know about your business, Ozzie. I don’t care who dropped the ball, which families or influences are behind this. I just need you to look into it and help my people out.”
“From what I understand, Mr. President, your people have already taken over the files … the labs and everything else. I got a call an hour ago. I told them to cooperate in every way. I’m just as bewildered and concerned about this as you are.”
“We don’t want to be next. No doubt the perpetrators are poised to release the virus again. I don’t want people out there panicking. It brings out the worst.”
“They already are sir, but I’ll do everything I can,” Zahn declared before he hung up.
“Are you going to help him?” Elijah asked.
“Better,” Grey Elder responded, and he began to eagerly dial his phone, setting the next stage of his plan in motion.
Two days later, Zahn’s call to the president’s private line was immediately answered.
“We have a vaccine. We can prevent what happened in Australia from happening again,” Zahn declared.
“Thank God! How soon, how many people? What kind of timeline are we looking at?” the president asked, releasing a breath that felt like it had been held for a week. The deep creases in his forehead eased slightly.
“We can start immediately and keep up production of the vaccine while we expand to less populated areas. I’ve put all my resources into getting this done as soon as possible.”
“How much? What’s this going to cost us, Ozzie?”
“Nothing. I’m willing to provide the serum at no expense,” Zahn replied.
“To whom? You can’t mean to all of America, that would cost … millions,” the president exclaimed.
“No, sir,” Zahn said. “To the entire world, and it’ll cost billions.”
“It’s too good to be true,” the president said.
And it was.
CHAPTER 40
HAIL THE SAVIOR
Television and Internet focused on every possible aspect of the chaos surrounding the events in Australia. The topic hijacked regular broadcasts, cycling the devastating home-shot images over and over. People were riveted to the gruesome show, and Grey Elder was elated by the swell in dark, loathsome energy around the globe. The world had tuned in, blogged, and Tweeted, theorizing about the vile pictures coming from down under. Confusion and terror monopolized all modes of communication, and still no one had heard of the Nobu virus or its vaccine.
There were little pockets of Australia’s outback that had managed to avoid infection, but the Nobu would eventually find them unless they stayed far from the infected zones. There was no hope of rescue; not even the leaders of the World Health Organization would risk contamination to visit the continent. There were no attempts to enter the region, which was completely cordoned off—the airspace and seaports were guarded by allied air and naval forces. Experts on biological warfare gathered at the nearly empty United Nations building in New York to confer, but they dared not enter the infected area either. They remained completely stymied by what they had seen from a distance. All around the world fear bubbled and swelled, and Grey Elder let the pot stew.
The name “Nobu” started to emerge, first on the Internet and then eventually on mainstream news channels, intentionally leaked by Zahn. Still, little was known about what Nobu was or how the outbreak had occurred. People speculated and cried out for an explanation. Zahn understood that the unknown caused more chaos and fear than even the nastiest reality, so he offered no more information. He delayed the announcement and onset of vaccination intentionally, reveling in the panic that gripped the world. Everywhere there were rushes to hoard water, supplies, and any variety of flu drug available.
Riots had broken out in many places. At a big-box store in Kentucky, a pharmacist had refused to sell unprescribed malaria antibiotics to frantic customers and three people had died, including a seven-year-old girl who was crushed by a toppled display shelf.
Theories about terrorism abounded but became confused when people wondered why the easygoing Aussies had been attacked, not a more likely target.
“They are all disposable. I have faith in the selfish, fear-driven nature of humankind. They will come like rodents to a feast,” Zahn explained to Elijah from their safe haven on the outskirts of Giza. It was dangerous in the ancient city now; violence and unrest had become the norm. The hotels had been ransacked and abandoned.
The American president once again appeared on television, this time to confirm the rumors about the Nobu virus and to announce the offer of humanitarian aid by Oswald Zahn.
“You have to tell the world that it was terrorism and we don’t know the perpetrator, Mr. President. They have to know how grave it truly is; no sugar-coating it. People have to fear that it could happen anywhere or they won’t agree to be vaccinated. All of the countries, even our enemies, have to be on board. There has to be urgency and full proliferation. We don’t want that virus taking hold and mutating on us,” Zahn coached over the telephone.
“I can handle it,” the president assured. He hung up and cleared his throat, preparing his most convincing Churchill voice.
The countdown began. “Three, two, …”
“My fellow Americans and our friends around the world, this is indeed a dark time in history and for humankind. I am here to tell you that what occurred in Australia was not an accident. The innocent people of that unfortunate land were deliberately murdered without provocation, without warning, by the intentional release of the Nobu virus. The United States and our allies are outraged at this horrific and blatant disregard for life,” he said predictably, failing to mention NASA’ s link to the bacteria.
“We still do not know who is responsible for this heinous crime, but we will find them and hold them accountable. I guarantee it. It is imperative that we pull together now. Do not panic.
“An antidote to this syndrome has been produced. American humanitarian Oswald Zahn has rallied his considerable resources in the interest of helping the world. In conjunction with his many charitable organizations and the government of the United States, the vaccine will be made available to everyone, free of charge. No one who chooses to be vaccinated will be denied. This man,” he said, pointing to the still picture behind him, “this savior, has come to the aid of his country and the world, and offers the only known protection from this cruel virus.”
The feed snapped off and flickered, and suddenly a prerecorded clipping of a composed Zahn took over the world screens. His chiseled, handsome face and voice were blasted in every language across the globe simultaneously. The world watched skeptically, desperate for answers and reassurance.
“I am not a savior,” Zahn began pragmatically. “I come in this uncertain time to lead the way out of confusion and fear. I am a citizen of the world, not of one country. White, black, brown, yellow—it doesn’t matter to me. We are all the same underneath our skin and in our hearts. We are all in this together.
“I have made arrangements to make the antidote available in most major cities immediately. We will expand out from there as we are able. It is my hope that each and every one of you will be vaccinated within a month,” he said emphatically. “You must each think of yourself and your family now, and do what you need to do to survive.
“We don’t know who is responsible for this act against humanity, but we can protect ourselves, though it must be done quickly—we have no idea wh
en and where the terrorists could strike again.
“Vaccination will be your choice. The vaccine has no side effects and will only leave a small crescent-shaped scar on the inner wrist. Protected, we can all move forward, unified in this terrifying time of chaos.”
The Emissaries, and the other prisoners being held in South America, had no idea what was happening in the world outside their walls. Eden was oblivious that she had inadvertently saved the lives of the Crystal Children she had led to Chile from Brisbane and Sydney. The captives were in awe of their collective energy and memories, and they remained deeply affected as they interacted with one another, now as old friends.
Quinn and Eden had hardly left one another’s side since her memory had been restored. Marcus and Theron were reunited, and her love for him was no longer restrained. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. How had she not seen it before?
Strangely, Nate had spent a great amount of time running his hands along the smooth walls and floor of the bunker. Finally Quinn questioned him about it.
“There are tunnels under here, I’m sure of it. I remember them. I’ve been here before,” Nate said, pulling Quinn and Eden aside so no one else would hear.
“Why haven’t you said anything?” Eden asked.
“Shame, I suppose. I was a German soldier, a Nazi under General Hans Kammler. He brought us here.” Nate’s memory had been growing stronger every day.
“There is nothing to be ashamed of, Nate. There’s no group that is entirely bad or good. You must have had a role to play somehow … maybe to have this knowledge to help us now,” Quinn suggested.
“What about the tunnels? Where do they lead?” Eden asked.
“Did you ever read A Journey to the Centre of the Earth? I think the tunnels are ancient, like Atlantis kind of ancient,” Nate said.
“It would make sense if Grey Elder was Kammler. Maybe he started this place way back then and he always planned to come back,” Eden offered.
It sounded likely, but Quinn knew the truth. He didn’t tell Eden that he had seen for himself that Helghul, not Grey Elder, had been Kammler. In 1939, then a young Czech scientist, Marcus had been forcibly recruited to work on the secret Nazi Bell project by Kammler. The project had used ancient knowledge of gravity-free flight and had depended on Marcus’s memory to succeed. Helghul had used Theron’s imprisonment in Theresienstadt, a Jewish ghetto, to blackmail him. Even still, when the Nazis had somehow unearthed the necessary atlantium crystal, Marcus had intentionally blown up the Prague installation, thus destroying the Nazi’s best chance of winning the war.
“What if it’s Shambhala?” Eden suggested, remembering her time as Borte.
“The Nazis searched for Shambhala relentlessly, all based on Nicholas Roerich’s book!” Nate exclaimed.
“That’s it!” Quinn said. “The underworld of Mother Earth is linked by scores of caverns and tunnels.”
“But how do we get to them?” Eden asked.
“I’ll guide you,” Nate said simply.
Quinn smiled at his old friend. “Of course you will,” he said, clapping the guide on the back.
The American president was harshly criticized for supporting Zahn.
“You can’t give him so much power and influence! We’re American, dammit, the world expects us to lead!” bellowed a heavy-set senator in frustration.
“He has the antidote! I have no doubt that without him we’ll be the next continent of corpses!” the president countered.
“Did you ever think that maybe he was responsible for the outbreak?” the politician boomed.
“Why? To what end? He isn’t even charging for the vaccine! If he was benefiting somehow, making billions, I might think you’re onto something,” the president argued.
“They’re touting him as some kind of savior! Did you read the Washington Post and the New York Times today? ‘A saint,’ they said. They’d crown him fucking king of the world if they could!”
“We need him,” the president argued.
“We have access to the best scientists and doctors in the world. We can find our own antidote,” the senator continued to rage.
“How long will that take? How much money will it cost? Are you willing to risk lives? Your wife and daughter’s? I’m not. My ego can stand down and let him pay the bill. If you haven’t noticed, our economy is already on the brink of collapse. Popsicle sticks hold the fucker together. We couldn’t afford to vaccinate Oregon, let alone the planet!”
“How can he?”
“That’s his problem,” the president retorted.
“So if he didn’t unleash this virus, who did, and why?” the senator asked for the thousandth time.
“I’ve thought of nothing else since it happened. I’ve been hoping for a note, a sign, someone taking credit. Nothing! Did you ever wonder … maybe the nut jobs are right? Is it fucking Revelations? You go to church on Sunday. You’ve read the Bible. My wife read me a quote last night, from the book of Zechariah. It says something about ‘flesh consuming away while we stand on our feet, eyes and tongues consumed in their holes.’”35
“Armageddon? Are you serious? You think it’s the end of the world?” the man asked, stunned.
“All I know is our people are running scared and they need a savior right now. Zahn fits the bill! The economy is in total collapse. We cannot fight a war against an invisible enemy! He’s offered his help and I’m happy to take it!” the president shouted, grateful for the outlet of emotion.
“At what cost?” his cohort asked simply.
“I don’t know,” the president breathed, resigned to their helplessness. “Time will tell.”
“If it is Revelations, we’re in bed with the Devil.”
“If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been called the Antichrist, I could afford to vaccinate the goddamn planet myself,” the president said. “And remember this. If Zahn is responsible for Australia, then he has the virus and he’s prepared to use it. That is not an enemy I want to make.”
Across the Atlantic, half a day away, the British prime minister was involved in a strikingly similar conference call with the leaders of Germany, France, and Belgium. They had agreed to the vaccinations but felt less than grateful.
“It’s goddamn Revelations, for Christ’s sake! What’re we supposed to do?” the British leader moaned, exhausted.
“If you truly believe that, I suggest you rethink your expletives,” the leader of Belgium advised wryly over the speakerphone.
“Bloody hell!” the Brit said, running his hands through his thinning hair and gulping his Scotch.
“That’s better,” the German chancellor interjected. “Now what are we going to do about this mess?”
CHAPTER 41
FREE WILL
After Zahn’s broadcast, people around the world responded with desperation and panic. They had naively hoped that Australia was an anomaly. They had hoped that they were safe in their distant lands. Many were anxious to get vaccinated as soon as possible, while others were unconvinced.
Grey Elder’s campaign for mass vaccination had been prepared well in advance, and he was busy putting the plan into motion. He was interfacing with both the cooperative and uncooperative leaders of the world.
The Chinese head of state had refused Zahn’s offer of protection. Before his refusal became public, he died of what was officially recorded as a heart attack. He was actually poisoned by his second in command, who then assumed the leadership and willingly agreed to allow the vaccinations to begin. His life was spared and his bank account was buoyed. More than a billion Chinese would be given the option of survival through inoculation. Like people across the entire planet, each individual would have to choose for themselves.
There were other leaders who resisted, and Zahn surreptitiously bought his way into many unwilling countries: North Korea, Iran, Pakistan, and more. His wealth and power seemed endless, and the leaders were bribed and threatened as necessary. No one wanted their country to be the next Nobu grav
eyard.
Clinics were set up in hospitals, schools, churches, synagogues, mosques, and town halls. Immunizations were quick and virtually painless. The individual’s identity was recorded, the left hand was placed face up, there was a quick pinch-click to the inner wrist, the serum was injected, and vaccination was complete. Only a crescent-shaped mark remained. The individual was now free from fear of the virus.
Millions lined up to be marked, some tentative and some relieved. By car, train, donkey, camel, and foot people came and waited, sometimes for hours or days. They had come willingly to receive the vaccination. They had made their choice. Some felt no difference, but others wandered away staring at the scar on their skin, feeling that something profound had occurred. In some cases, a heaviness descended over those who had complied. Could there have been something more to the vaccine, an undeclared side effect? Sometimes they regretted their decision, but it was not a choice that could be undone.
“I take it back!” one wild-eyed mother exclaimed outside a clinic in the streets of São Paulo, Brazil. In the air, she held up her hand and the wrist of her crying infant. The child bobbled at her fleshy hip, jostled by her dismay. “I should not have done it! I marked my child! I sold our souls to the Devil! Walk away, mothers. Walk away, people. I feel my blood polluted and changed! It is our power that we hand over!” she shouted and wailed in rapid Portuguese, begging others to resist and rubbing at the immoveable mark until it bled.
Some did walk away, but most stayed and averted their eyes. Even the majority of those who had left returned later and were likewise marked. They felt the snap-click of the vaccination, and for a few that was all—the simple prick and blemish. However, for the majority, stating their name and choosing to be stamped disturbed them beyond their expectations. The finality and permanence of the imprint was troubling. The alternative was much worse, wasn’t it? What else could they do? Parents, caregivers, breadwinners—how could they stand against this disease unprotected?
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