“We check all their emails, both professional and personal. We monitor their phone calls. We track their movements via their cell phones when they’re outside the office and track the proximity of other phones to their houses to see if they receive any visitors with whom we might have an issue.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute. You’re a civilian authority. You don’t have the guts, or the power, to do something like that.”
“Old friend, this is Geneva, not Waco, Texas. And in Geneva the UN is king. And I am, even though I understand you might find it difficult to comprehend, held in a certain esteem within the UN.”
“Whatever… Seeing is believing, Aeolus. If you’re right, it has to be someone on the ground.”
“Yes, Hank, I agree.”
“I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”
“I’m sure you will. Feel free to send the Keystone Kops to Ternate and water board the medical staff. Sounds like a great use of everyone’s time. In the meantime, I suppose we can expect to have another video-conference with your commander-in-chief later on today, given these recent developments?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Which I doubt you can,” said Aeolus.
As Aeolus moved to hang up, the room was filled with the endless torrent of obscenities Hank was pouring out, unclear to whom.
“You have us monitored?” asked Kevin, in surprise and disapproval.
“Well, not exactly. Your mails are logged and we get the log of your phone calls with your bills. There’s no one actually monitoring, but we have a historical record. Since I’m willing to stake my reputation on the fact that none of you are the leak, I’m sending this information to Hank.”
“And what about the cell phone tracking?”
“Hmm… yes, you’ll be relieved to hear that there’s no tracking, but we have a constructed dataset for situations like this.”
“So you lied to the Director of the CDC?”
“I might ‘in elegant diction, have indulged in an innocent fiction, which is not in the same category as telling a regular terrible story’,” Aeolus pattered away with a taunting smile, after which he promptly tilted his head down and mentally disappeared into the night’s briefing documents.
Ed and Kevin exchanged glances, Ed frowning and Kevin shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders.
“Pirates of Penzance,” Walt informed them. “You’ll get the hang of it, eventually.”
AUGUST 5TH, 5 PM, SHOC, WHO HEADQUARTERS, GENEVA
The quality of the air in the Strategic Health Operations Centre had deteriorated gradually over the week as the air-conditioning, which had been cranked to Siberian temperatures, fought a losing battle against far too many bodies in a far too crowded space for far too long. But it was neither that nor the pungent smell of stale coffee that annoyed Aeolus. It was the overlay of cheap industrial disinfectant. Aeolus made a mental note to ask the cleaners that did his office to also take care of the SHOC, using his personal, all-organic cleaning liquids.
As the president came on via video, Aeolus rose. For all his British aristocratic manners and general disrespect for authority, he was still at heart an American and he still believed that, when the president stood, so did you. The rest of the room rose with him.
“Dr. Hughes,” said the president, taking his seat.
“Mr. President,” responded Aeolus, choosing to remain standing.
“Before we begin, let me say that the only reason this discussion is taking place is because Hank has assured me that the leak did not come from your office. If it had, I would have lost confidence in you and would no longer be seeking your counsel.”
“We thank you for your trust, Mr. President.”
“As you can imagine, these articles have led to a shift in public opinion.”
“I would imagine so, Mr. President.”
“I’ve had half the Capitol, both congressmen and senators, calling my staff all morning, expressing their concern that we’re not shouldering our responsibility as the last superpower.”
“Because of this,” the president continued, “my options have become somewhat limited. I’ve looked into your previous request, and have news that I expect you’ll like. I’ve spoken to the president of Indonesia and he realizes that having the US Navy riding in and taking control over his territorial waters would be a significant loss of face. So, he has agreed to cooperate, but there’s a catch. We need the UN resolution. Or, to be more precise, we need to convince the Indonesians that we could get it if we wanted. The Russians are not on board and would abstain, at best. The Indonesians know this and they also know that we wouldn’t act without the UN’s sanction. If we can convince them we have the Russians, we don’t need to pass the actual resolution. Their military will enforce a quarantine of the area you suggested in coordination with some ‘advisory’ naval vessels from our Seventh fleet out of Yokohama. Now, Major Wiley tells me you have the Russians, is that correct?”
“I can have the Russian UN ambassador confirm Moscow’s support in a matter of hours, Mr. President.”
“Excellent, then it’s done.”
The president waved to someone off-camera, instructing the call to be terminated.
Aeolus spoke before the president’s command was executed. “One more thing, Mr. President. If we have a cooperative environment with Jakarta, I would also propose that we shut down the airport for outgoing flights.”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Hughes, but that won’t be possible. It’s one of their requirements. It’s a deal-breaker. If they enforce the quarantine, they want to allow people who are outside the zone to leave Indonesia if they wish.”
“They’re trading the lives of the poor in the east for the rich in the west?”
“Yes, something to that effect.”
“Excuse me, Mr. President, but I’d like to raise one last thing,” said Aeolus, well aware that he was pushing the limits of the president’s patience.
“And what is that?”
“I think you should also start thinking about preventive measures in the United States, for instance, quarantining passengers from Southeast Asia.”
“Dr. Hughes. You might be the man of the hour in the international press, and I have listened to your advice, which I appreciate, but if you think I’ll start to restrict travel into the United States, with all the economic costs that would accompany such an action, because you have what is now a well-quarantined outbreak in Indonesia, I think you’re overestimating the weight of your advice.
“Don’t get me wrong, Dr. Hughes, we will do something, but it will be a measured reaction, driven by domestic political considerations. Major Wiley will put something together.”
“I understand. Thank you, Mr. President.”
As the screen went black, Aeolus bit his lip, regretting that he’d pushed it too far and spent some of his precious bargaining capital without achieving anything. He turned to Walt. “Okay, Walt. It’s time to call Yelena.”
“You haven’t spoken to her since this began, have you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“That’s what I thought. We’ll leave you to it.”
Aeolus’s relationship with Yelena Petrova was complicated. She’d been one of his lecturers when she was a guest professor at Harvard, the only teacher for whom he had any respect, the only one into whose assignments he actually invested effort. She was seven years his senior and had somehow fallen for him. This was a completely new experience for Aeolus. Women, generally, were not attracted to him. His arrogance, abrasive ways and intellectual snobbishness usually put a distance between himself and other people, but not Yelena. It seemed as if the very qualities that turned other people away were what drew her to him. When her emotions became apparent to Aeolus, that moment when she laid her hand on his while looking in the microscope over his shoulder, he panicked for the first time in his life. He pulled away and left the room, mumbling some excuse. He just didn’t know how to react. He had no idea or frame o
f reference for how to deal with the situation. He stopped going to her classes and tried to ignore her.
Even though her feelings for him had long since abated, Aeolus still felt awkward in her presence. Awkward and ashamed over the way he had frozen her out.
He tried to avoid contact with her to the largest possible extent, although, given his job, and her competence, sometimes he had no choice. This was one of those times.
Aeolus called Mandy and had her connect him to the Moscow Medical Academy.
Several signals went through, and Aeolus imagined Yelena running from her lab, next door to her office. Yelena had no assistant. That was a luxury that, if it had ever been awarded to the professor of virology at her university, was long gone with the fall of the Soviet Union.
“Yelena Petrova.”
“Yelena, it’s me, Aeolus.”
Yelena was silent for a moment before saying, “Dr. Hughes? I’m surprised you are calling. I was under the impression that you have no interest in my opinions on the current situation.”
“No Yelena, it’s not that. You know I value your opinion. It’s just been very hectic over here.”
“Ne valyay duraka, Aeolus!” Yelena exploded. “You were just too proud to call.”
“And now,” Yelena continued, not giving him a chance to respond, “you want me to get our government to support a quarantine of eastern Indonesia. Is that not so?”
“Yes… that’s part of the reason I’m calling.”
“You have quite some nerve, Aeolus! Calling me like this at the last minute!
“Anyway, it’s done. I’ve spoken to Loo quite a bit over the last couple of days. I know where we stand. You’ll get your resolution.”
Aeolus exhaled with relief. “Thank you Yelena, you’re a star.”
“And Aeolus?”
“Yes.”
“Next time, you might want to try calling me before everything gets completely out of control.”
“You’re right. I should have called sooner. I’m sorry,” said Aeolus, and realized, only after hanging up, that he actually meant it.
AUGUST 6TH, 10 AM, DISTRICT HOSPITAL, TERNATE, MALUKU ISLANDS, EASTERN INDONESIA
The sight that met Rebecca as she walked down what used to be the First Class corridor was the same as it had been the last few days. There were patients everywhere. Rooms were filled well beyond their capacity and there were people lying in the hallways throughout the hospital, some without proper beds. She thought she would have gotten accustomed to it by now, but she hadn’t. Maybe some misery was just too dreadful to get used to.
As she’d predicted, the number of patients had exploded. They now had more than three thousand patients in and around the hospital. In spite of all their efforts to create suitable accommodations, they were hanging on by the skin of their teeth. Patients were still lying out in the sun in terrible agony, some of them dying. The lack of space forced them to make hard choices. Only the patients deemed most likely to survive, generally men in their thirties, in the early stages of infection, were allowed in the hospital. Others were written off after only the most perfunctory examination. These were tough decisions, but they were necessary to maximize the number of lives saved, even if the consequence was that some far-progressed cases were never even let through the door. These weren’t the type of decisions she’d imagined she would be making when she studied to become a doctor. And the faces of panicked relatives standing at the hospital entrance, waving packs of rupiah to try to convince her to take their son, daughters, brother, sister, or spouses in, haunted her dreams.
The flow of people had stemmed somewhat the last few days, but Rebecca wasn’t sure whether it was a good or a bad thing. Initially, she’d organized locals to travel around the islands and inform the population about the virus and how it spread. People were advised to stay indoors and avoid contact with others. To some extent, it had worked, but that wasn’t the only reason for the reduced inflow of patients. An unwelcome side effect of the information campaign had been the fear it created among the people of the islands. Efforts to break the quarantine, at first just an occasional singularity, had now turned into a continuous flow of boats leaving the islands, dozens or more per day. The military had ensured her that the quarantine was holding, but Rebecca was not entirely convinced. Also, people had stopped coming to the hospital because they feared it. To them the patients of the hospital didn’t seem to get better, even though in fact the survival rate under medical care was higher. And as several doctors had gotten sick, people reasoned that if the hospital could not even protect its own, how could it be a place of refuge from the disease? An increasing share of those who fell ill chose to stay at home.
In the midst of this chaos, the 200 or so medical professionals who were now here looked to Rebecca for leadership. She had no idea what to say in the face of such horror, but she held a staff meeting every morning and tried to inspire them as best she could. What made her feel most like a coward and hypocrite during these meetings was the fact that she and her closest support staff wore respirators, while the rest didn’t. The respirators scared the patients and didn’t allow for particularly good bedside manners. The staff that didn’t wear respirators knew full well that they risked being infected, but still chose to go without, as it was the only way to give proper care.
Logically, Rebecca knew she was saving lives by staying alive herself, but her heart disapproved and rebelled every time she walked up to patients, meeting the fear and desperation in their eyes behind the barrier of her mask.
In so far as understanding the strain, not much had changed since Rebecca’s first reports. The increased number of samples made their estimates of incubation periods and mortality rates more precise, but beyond that little had been learned. The only peculiar finding Rebecca had been able to report was that they had had three cases of encephalitis lethargica, an extremely rare condition that hadn’t been seen much in the last century. To Rebecca, this seemed like a curiosity at best, but Aeolus had been very interested in this particular fact.
The only silver lining was that Roger was now with her. It hadn’t taken Hank more than twenty-four hours to figure out who the source of the article was, and once he did, he immediately fired her. Fortunately, she was hired an hour later by the WHO. Hank would never have allowed it, but Aeolus was fine with Roger joining her in Maluku, especially after he learned that Roger was the author of the articles. Roger spent his days in and around the hospital taking photos and interviewing staff and what few patients could communicate in English. He was the only reporter inside the hot zone and his writing was given broad coverage in the media. Roger was a godsend. At the end of the day, they had the nights to themselves. Together they escaped to a different world, a world without the terrors of her day. He was a great source of strength for Rebecca. Without him, she doubted she would have managed.
Rebecca walked up to a patient lying absolutely still on a bed pushed up against the corridor wall. She felt for a pulse. There was none. Out of habit, she called the time of death and noted it on the sheet attached to his bed. Not that it mattered. The sheet did not even have a name on it.
AUGUST 6TH, 9 AM, WHO HEADQUARTERS, GENEVA
Aeolus was not in a good mood as he marched through the revolving doors of the WHO headquarters.
He was angry with Ed for getting all worked up about a suspected case in Hong Kong, which Aeolus knew had to be a false alarm. They did not have enough time to waste scarce resources on red herrings. Ed should have been able to screen it out.
He was frustrated that he’d been forced to resort to bilateral talks about quarantine measures on a country-by-country basis, with the absence of stronger support from the Security Council.
He was weighed down by the fact that there was always a time zone where people were awake. Always there was someone he could, and had to, try to persuade to take preventive action. He was a man who could manage with little sleep, but his current schedule was taxing even for him.
&nbs
p; But most of all he was disappointed with himself for having achieved so little.
True, some countries had responded well. Japan had stopped all inbound flights from Southeast Asia and was quarantining everyone arriving who had been in the region since the outbreak. Australia had enforced a similar quarantine, but Aeolus was convinced that it was futile, given their proximity to Indonesia and the ease with which people could cross the waters in small, undetectable boats.
In Europe, the reaction was mixed. Most countries had stopped accepting flights from Jakarta, and a couple had enforced a broader quarantine covering the whole of Southeast Asia. Still, some decisions, though they sounded reassuring, seemed ridiculously ineffective in practice. The prime example was France, which had declared a stop to inbound flights from Southeast Asia, but allowed an exception for their former colonies in Indochina, which was effectively half the region.
The ECDC had once again proven its impotence by failing to arrange a European-wide response. Their recommendations were absolutely the right ones, but getting the leaders to follow through was beyond their capabilities. The Council of Ministers would apparently debate the issue at their next gathering, but even if called into an emergency session, this was at least days, and more likely weeks, away.
He had, and not for lack of trying, failed to get the airport in Jakarta shut down for outbound flights and several countries still accepted flights from Indonesia. The worst, unsurprisingly, was Malaysia, who had put no restrictions at all on travel of what they considered to be their “brothers.”
Yet the greatest disappointment had been the reaction of the United States. The “measured response” Hank Wiley finally proposed consisted of a form that passengers filled out upon entering the nation, stating if they had been to Indonesia the week preceding their entry into the country, and if so, whether they had any symptoms of illness.
It was the same problem as with the question on the same form that asked whether one was carrying fissile material. Whoever gave a positive answer was, most certainly, clinically insane, but was, with equal certainty, not carrying a bomb. Needless to say, Hank’s form had so far not screened out a single traveler.
The Nightmare Scenario Page 16