Pathological

by Jinkang Wang

  It was Director Zhang who’d decided to announce the epidemic to the foreign press at the same time as the domestic press, and the central government had approved. During the early stages of SARS, the Chinese had kept certain things from the press, which later affected their ability to fight the infection and led to international criticism for their role in worsening the situation. Director Zhang said that this time around, they wouldn’t be so foolish.

  Now Yang Jicun of the CDC was reporting on the current state of the outbreak. On the whole, the situation was good, far better than the epidemiologists had predicted. There were 343 confirmed cases and another 1,345 suspected, but their symptoms were relatively minor. Smallpox came in severe and mild strains, but China wasn’t in the mild-strain infection zone. Yet the American epidemic had evidently been one of regular smallpox. So if they accepted that Director Mei had brought the virus back with her from America, this contradiction was impossible to explain. Only two of the victims were ill enough to be in a life-threatening state, namely Mei Xiaoxue at the orphanage, and Dr. Ma, who first reported the outbreak.

  At the moment, the scenario most feared by the CDC was that smallpox would have spread along the route taken by Mei Yin on her honeymoon, so they’d asked her to provide a detailed itinerary, and were keeping a close watch on all the areas she’d passed through. So far they’d discovered a dozen suspected cases, again with mild symptoms. As the couple had been on their honeymoon, they hadn’t spent much time in any one place, and even if they had spread it, the virus—being airborne—would have quickly dissipated. As far as they could tell, the spread of the disease had been effectively halted.

  At this point, a staff member approached Jin Mingcheng and whispered in his ear, at which Jin turned to the mayor and said, “A young expert from the Wuhan Institute of Virology has arrived. He says he has something urgent to tell us.” Then he hurried out of the meeting.

  Jin Mingcheng left the room and shook hands with Xue Yu. “What’s so urgent?”

  Awkwardly, Xue Yu said, “It’s just a suspicion. I’d like to first ask Ms. Mei for her opinion.”

  The deputy mayor’s face sank. “Does it have something to do with the epidemic? If not, you should go back to Wuhan, we don’t have time for this.”

  “Of course it has to do with . . .”

  “Then out with it! I’m the commander of the infection zone, and I have the right to hear anything about the outbreak first. If you really do need to speak to Ms. Mei, I can make it happen later.”

  Xue Yu briefly described what he’d seen in that lab at Heavenly Corp. He said, “If it really is as Ms. Mei said, then the white pox virus could also cause an infection, with symptoms very similar to smallpox, and we have to consider that. It may be that this outbreak wasn’t smallpox brought over from America, but a mutation of white pox from the lab that accidentally leaked out. Ms. Mei brought me there to visit before all this happened. Could she have unintentionally come into contact with the white pox virus?”

  Jin Mingcheng’s heart sank. His first, rather ignoble, response was to consider what effect this would have on his career. Before being transferred away from Xinye, he’d made a point of inspecting the new workshop space at Heavenly Corp., and he’d suspected that there was something odd going on there. Unfortunately, he hadn’t looked at the lab in question. He’d walked right up to the door, but hadn’t gone in. How careless. But then, even if he had gone in, he probably didn’t know enough about virology to understand what he was looking at. He felt an enormous resentment toward Mei Yin—she’d broken her word to him when he invested, saying that the facility would have nothing to do with viruses; meanwhile, she had secretly created a lab to study viruses. She’d gone too far. Who did she think she was? His rise had begun with the successful clinching of this deal, but Mei Yin might also be responsible for his downfall.

  He shook his head, pushing these feelings away. Right now, all that mattered was the outbreak, and a moment’s hesitation from the commander could lead to tens or hundreds of additional victims. He didn’t have the luxury of being distracted, nor could he try to bury Xue Yu’s revelation. He said, “Thank you for your sense of duty, and for your sharp eyes. I know nothing of this field, so just let me confirm something: When you said the white pox virus could mutate into something like smallpox, becoming infectious—is that really possible?”

  Xue Yu hesitated. Jin Mingcheng guessed what he was thinking, and said in a gentler voice, “Just tell me frankly, don’t keep anything back, all right? I want to get to the bottom of this, even if it means digging my own professional grave. Whether as the deputy head of the county government’s chamber of commerce or the Xinye County chief, I’ll need to take responsibility for this secret lab. But I have to do this now.”

  Xue Yu could hear his sorrow and hurt, and flushed red. This wasn’t the time to let considerations of personal loss get in the way, even if it did mean getting his beloved Ms. Mei into trouble. He said honestly, “If we’re talking about a natural mutation, the chances are minuscule. Current medical consensus is that the monkeypox virus, including its mutation white pox, could occasionally infect someone, but without the possibility of further contagion, that is to say, human-to-human infection is impossible. This couldn’t possibly lead to an outbreak as widespread as what we’re seeing now. Unless—there were a human hand in this.”

  Jin Mingcheng, stunned, pressed him. “Turning a harmless virus into a deadly one on purpose? Why would anyone do that?”

  Xue Yu hurriedly explained. “It’s not as simple as you’re thinking. Scientists might be perfectly justified in doing this for preventative reasons. And studying the process by which it goes from harmless to harmful can help us learn to combat viruses. Of course,” he admitted with difficulty, “such research comes with certain risks, and there should be ample public consultation and official permission before it goes ahead. It can’t just be carried out privately.”

  His tone was as conciliatory as possible, but it was clear he was passing severe judgment. Jin Mingcheng looked at this former student of Mei Yin’s and said nothing. He’d always had a great deal of respect for Mei Yin; he’d almost regarded her as a perfect human being. She was generous and kind, prudent and rigorous in her work. She treated people gently as spring breeze, regarded the orphans as her own children, and had little interest in money or wealth. He’d never have thought, in his wildest dreams, that Mei Yin would do something as imprudent as this. He nodded. “Come on, back into the meeting room. You’ll tell them what you told me, and we’ll deal with it right away. Xue . . . thank you.”

  When he came back in, Secretary Qi and Mayor Tang stared at him silently, their eyes full of questions. The press corps grew agitated, turning their combined gaze on him and the young man who entered the room behind him. Someone stood to take Xue Yu’s picture. The bailiffs went over to stop her, but the journalist had already gotten the shots she needed and sat back down with a smile, hands spread wide. Xue Yu found an empty seat in the front row. Jin scribbled a note for Qi and Tang, who read it quickly and exchanged a few quiet words, then handed it to Director Zhang of the CDC. Zhang read it expressionlessly, staring at the scrap of paper motionlessly. Everyone grew preternaturally quiet, and even Yang Jicun, who was giving his report, felt the strangeness and paused, looking questioningly at Mayor Tang. By then, Director Zhang had made his decision, and waved at Yang Jicun to stop, gesturing for the microphone to be placed in front of him.

  Director Zhang smiled. “An unexpected situation has come up. Before anything else, I should make it clear that this isn’t verified, and could well be a false alarm. But as we have promised the press and media that they will be kept apace of new developments as they occur, I’ll announce this publicly now, and we can confirm it later. Though I must insist that the assembled journalists report this just as it stands, without exaggeration. Don’t blow it up as if it’s established fact. The contents of this note are rather technical, and might not be easy to understand, so I’
ll go slowly.”

  He cleared his throat, then began reading slowly from the note:

  “A student of the researcher Mei Yin, one Xue Yu, says, ‘Please consider another possibility about the origins of this epidemic. Mei Yin is the director of Heavenly Corp. in this city, in which there is a research lab where she has been studying the infectious white pox virus, a mutation of monkeypox and very similar to smallpox. This is an individual research project.’”

  This was a bombshell of an announcement, and the meeting attendees listened, riveted, while the reporters scrambled to record all this, those who didn’t speak Chinese frantically asking their colleagues for help. The Japanese expert, Noriyoshi Matsumoto, had an interpreter next to him who swiftly translated what was going on, from time to time exchanging a quick word or two.

  Director Zhang went on. “This is to say, Comrade Xue Yu—Mr. Xue Yu—believes it’s possible that the culprit in this epidemic isn’t smallpox, but a mutated white pox virus that could induce the same symptoms. Is that right?”

  He looked at Xue Yu, in the audience. Xue Yu stood and answered simply, “Yes.”

  Director Zhang, who had a technical background, gently shook his head. “As I understand it, the likelihood of this is low, but we still have to listen to what the experts think. Could Mr. Matsumoto of the WHO respond?”

  Matsumoto stood. He was an old man with a full head of white hair, of medium height, with fine, thin features. Bowing to the room, he spoke a few words. The interpreter said, “Mr. Matsumoto believes the likelihood is small, unless it has undergone induced directed mutation. Even so, it would also need to go through a long period of filtering. But Mr. Matsumoto also says there is no need to waste time on this point—once the virus is amplified, DNA sequencing or probe hybridization should be able to separate them. The Institute of Microbiology of the Chinese Academy of Sciences ought to be able to do this.”

  He added a sentence or two, and the interpreter said, “Mr. Matsumoto doesn’t think it’s very likely to be white pox, but the symptoms here are clearly much milder than in America. This seems to indicate that the epidemics have different sources, which accords with the suspicions of Mr. Yang from the Nanyang CDC.”

  Director Zhang called Yang Jicun to the lectern and murmured a couple of questions to him, then said into the microphone, “Prior to this, the Nanyang CDC had sent samples to Beijing for DNA testing, and should have the results by tomorrow. But we have an even more direct method.” He turned to Jin Mingcheng. “Our chair contacted the Chinese American researcher Ms. Mei Yin, director of Heavenly Corp., and foreign specialist at the Wuhan Institute of Virology, and she interrupted her journey to come straight back here. She’s been assisting with our work within the infection zone. We could just question her directly.”

  Jin said nothing, but allowed a staff member to fetch a walkie-talkie and hold down the “Talk” button. Director Zhang’s words had given him a chill: it was a bad sign that he kept emphasizing Mei Yin’s status as a foreigner. He knew where this was going. If Mei Yin had indeed been carrying out a secret research project, if she had indeed caused this epidemic, then she would have to take full responsibility, and no one could save her. Throwing her under the bus at the first opportunity would reduce international speculation that this was some kind of national program—there’d been far too much of such irresponsible rumor-mongering in the past from the West. At this moment, Jin Mingcheng was both furious at Mei Yin for her reckless behavior, and worried about her future. He handed the walkie-talkie to Director Zhang, who said equably, “Is this Researcher Mei Yin? Zhang Shiyuan here, from the National CDC. I have something to ask you.”

  Her voice was calm too. “Mei Yin here. Please go ahead, Director Zhang.”

  “You ought to know the significance of the following questions, and I trust you’ll answer honestly.”

  “Of course.”

  “Your student Xue Yu has just suggested a possibility to this meeting: the source of the epidemic might not have been America, but the white pox virus you’re researching. Could you please tell us whether you’ve been experimenting with white pox mutation in a lab at Heavenly Corp.?”

  A pause, not a long one, but enough for everyone present to notice it. Then, still calmly, “Yes, I have.”

  In order for the journalists to follow both sides of the conversation, Director Zhang had turned the volume to its highest level. Now, these three simple words had the explosive force of a bomb, stunning the room into silence. In this extreme stillness, the reporters craned to hear every word coming from the speaker, swiftly taking notes.

  Director Zhang asked, “In that case, in your opinion, is there any possibility that Xue Yu’s hypothesis is correct?” His tone remained level, but there was now a heavy chill to it.

  The reply came. “It’s possible. I’ve confirmed that the viruses I was working with are indeed pathogenic.”

  She didn’t say “the white pox virus” but chose a more ambiguous form of words. No one present noticed this small discrepancy, though, not even Xue Yu, who was most familiar with the situation. It was only after the truth came out that he understood how careful she’d been with her phrasing.

  Mei Yin went on. “It’d be easy to uncover the source of this outbreak. The CDC can come get a specimen from the lab for DNA sequencing, then compare it against the virus in the infection zone. That ought to do it.”

  This other disclosure—that her viruses were pathogenic—set off another bomb, and the press corps couldn’t help smiling at the big fish they’d just landed, even if their satisfaction took place against a miserable backdrop of mass infection. Of course, they had questions too: If this Mei Yin truly was the author of this infection, how could she be so calm? Why would she be the one to suggest DNA testing?

  Director Zhang was furious, and no longer bothered hiding the harshness in his voice. “Who organized and approved this research project?”

  “This was a personal experiment, no one approved it. Even General Manager Sun of Heavenly Corp. had no idea.” A pause, then she added, “I’m willing to take full responsibility for my actions.”

  Director Zhang softened his tone a little. “We can talk about blame another time. Right now, the most important task is to deal with this epidemic. I’ll send someone right away to pick up specimens from your lab. Thank you for your cooperation.”

  “Just go ahead, you don’t need me there. The virus is preserved in liquid nitrogen, with live specimens in the reactor. By the way, if our lab does turn out to be the origin, our present preventative strategies will remain effective, including the cowpox vaccine.”

  Her words were a little too confident, giving the impression that she was suspiciously clear about the situation, and had known all along that a leak from her lab caused this outbreak, but kept it under wraps. Director Zhang suppressed the anger bubbling up in him and said icily, “Thank you.”

  “No need to thank me, I’m just doing what I can.” Then, a little abruptly, she said, “It’s my student Xue Yu you ought to thank, for his civic-mindedness. I knew I was right about him.”

  Everyone turned to stare at Xue Yu, who blushed, the eyes of the crowd burning him like needles. He’d been forced to denounce Ms. Mei, with absolutely no personal consideration. His conscience was clear. Still, that knowledge didn’t lessen the guilt he felt toward his mentor, especially if he was responsible for getting her into trouble with the law. Ms. Mei’s praise felt like the cruelest sarcasm. But he knew that couldn’t be—Ms. Mei wasn’t a cruel person. Then he heard Deputy Mayor Jin calling him. “Xue, why don’t you take Department Head Yang there, you know the facility best.”

  So the traitor was about to be exposed to the crowd. He’d have to face the despising stares of everyone at the facility. Clenching his teeth, he thought, Damn them to hell, it’s not like I’ve done anything wrong. “Fine, I’ll bring you there, I know the place well, I was the student Ms. Mei trusted most—she once asked if I would take over this research project.”r />
  Director Zhang could tell from his rambling how confused his state of mind must be, and said sympathetically, “Xue, I really have to thank you for your sense of responsibility. I think everyone will be grateful. Come on. You too, Mr. Matsumoto. And the reporters, if you like. Let’s go.”

  When the call came from Director Zhang of the CDC, Mei Yin and her husband were in Xiaoxue’s room. Her pockmarks had become blisters, filled with pus, and her temperature was rising. She was showing signs of sepsis, her mind confused, sometimes agitated. She’d been on a drip for days now, with high-potency gamma globulins to treat the smallpox and prevent lung inflammation. Although she wasn’t always lucid, she insisted that Mommy was by her side at every moment. Mei Yin felt as if knives were slicing through her heart. Even with a weaker strain of smallpox, there was no way to prevent especially sensitive individuals from having an adverse reaction. She’d understood this from the start, but there’s always a gap between rational understanding and actual experience. Seeing the demon torturing Xiaoxue, she couldn’t help blaming herself.

  After the conversation with Director Zhang, she said to her husband, “I really am grateful to Xue Yu. He set me free. Now they just need to get the specimens from the lab, and the truth will come out.”

  Her husband pressed her hand to his own palm. “I’ve been set free too.”

  “Don’t be silly, we’re sticking to the plan. Don’t try to be some knight in shining armor. You can’t take the fall for me.”

  “It’s not like I can get away scot-free. They’ll never believe I didn’t know anything about this.”

  “Who cares what they believe, the law is based on evidence. As long as you keep denying it, at the very worst you’ll get a light sentence. The facility needs you, and you’ll have to take over my work at the orphanage too. And—our daughter. We can’t let her become an orphan again, after she’s just gotten a father and mother.”