“Anyway,” Yelena continued, “I am bringing in someone else to finish it.”
“Who are you getting?”
“Boris Yevchenko.”
Aeolus paused for a moment.
“Boris? I thought you didn’t know anyone by that name.”
“Of course I do. He is the best at what he does. He was my most gifted student.”
Aeolus was truly surprised. So it hadn’t been just a white lie. Not only did she know him, she had trained him.
“I thought I was your most gifted student.”
“You were. Until I met Boris.”
No one had ever told Aeolus that someone else was better than him at his speciality. It was a bit of a shock. Then again, if you had to lose to someone, from what he knew of the man, Boris Yevchenko was the one to lose to.
“Yelena, since you’ll be laid up for a while, I have to tell you that what you’ve done is incredible. It will save millions of lives. It’s the type of achievement that most researchers only dream of. And you most likely saved your motherland from total collapse. The world owes you for what you’ve done. I owe you.”
“Yes, yes… Anyway, I’m going to check myself into the hospital now.”
“You… You get well, Yelena.”
“Sure. But… Aljoshka…”
“Yes…”
“Go get that bitch now! Show nature who’s really in charge around here.” He heard her laughing as she hung up.
Aeolus drifted away in thought, thoughts of admiration and gratitude. Aeolus valued effort. He thought highly of sacrifice. But nothing impressed him as much as brilliance. What Yelena had accomplished throughout her career was remarkable by any measure. And it was to her he had turned in this situation. The only person he could trust with the task. No living person on the globe could have put together the test faster. The world was about to lose a once in a generation mind.
AUGUST 20TH, END OF DAYSHIFT, QUARANTINE ZONE, WHO REGIONAL OFFICE, SHAM NATH MARG, NEW DELHI
Rebecca greeted Roger with a radiant smile when he appeared on the other side of the glass wall. The small observation room was the most depressing in the entire structure. The neon light was colder here, reflecting a greenish tint off the fading white paint and the raw concrete floor.
After the infection started spreading through New Delhi, the already strict quarantine of the NCDC had become even stricter. Rebecca had to put up quite the fight to get Roger in. The Head of Security, Mr. Chakravarty, who was technically her superior with regards to the isolation measures, had been violently opposed to it. A phone call from Aeolus informed him there’d be hell to pay if Rebecca had another complaint. So Roger was let in. Mr. Chakravarty, was fuming, but there was nothing he could do.
Of course Roger had to go through quarantine. He was held in the isolation ward while he was tested for the Maluku influenza. Still, just seeing his face again made her worries dissipate. He looked to be in perfect health.
The glass was thick but they could speak to each other through the intercom.
“Hey, Twinkie!” exclaimed Roger in his usual jovial manner. “It sure feels good to be back.”
“Roger, you look good! How’s it been?”
“I’ve never had a story that was so hard to write. But what a great story it became.” Roger grinned and struck out with his arms in a heavily exaggerated gesture of pride. He poured out the details and she greedily gulped down every word, savoring every syllable.
“I was smuggled in through the Indian border. Then I spent a week traveling through the north of Burma. The military presence in the south was too dense for me to risk it. But the north was enough. I saw entire villages burned to the ground, women, children and all. I interviewed displaced families. I went to temples were the monks had hidden infected people and were treating them. The hospitals were closed, see, ‘cause the government thought it’d curtail the spread. So the only way for ordinary people to receive treatment was through the monks. The medical practices in the temples were, let’s just say, not based on modern medicine. Prayer and herbs was the best you could get. From what I could see, it didn’t look particularly effective.”
He sighed.
“Dodging the military turned out to be trickier than I thought. They were everywhere! Any rumor of infection, no matter how unsubstantiated, and they’d come rushing, guns out. But I managed! Quite a feat for a second-rate reporter once relegated to conspiracy documentaries on late-night TV, wouldn’t you say, Twinkie?”
Rebecca nodded, smiled and blew him a celebratory kiss. “No one is happier for you than me.”
She hesitated.
“So, you were able to stay safe?”
“I didn’t take a mistress and have unprotected sex, if that’s what you mean…”
Rebecca laughed, a small tear forming in the corner of her eye.
“Seriously, I think so,” he reassured her, “I wore filters, goggles and gloves whenever I was in a risk zone. I camped in a tent far away from inhabited areas. I disinfected my gear each night with the stuff you gave me. And I only ate vacuum-sealed granola bars. I don’t see what more I could’ve done.”
“Any symptoms?”
“Nosebleeds, headaches and a terrible cough, but that’s nothing more than what you’d expect after sleeping in the rainy jungles of northern Burma.”
“I’m happy to hear that. But just so we’re clear, the next time you set your sights on a Pulitzer, remember you took an awful risk, and it’s not just about you anymore, Roger. It’s about me, too. It’s about us.”
Roger looked deep into her eyes and nodded. “I know.”
He bounced in delight. “But it was a risk worth taking! The story’s out now: text, pictures, even video. It’s the story of the decade. It has everything, violence, despair, hope and love. All the things people love to read about. And they will read it. No one can deny it any more. It’s a mass extermination on the scale of the Cambodian killing fields. If this isn’t a Pulitzer in the making, I don’t know what is.”
“I’m pretty sure this is enough for a Pulitzer, Roger,” Rebecca assured him. “The Indian government just announced they’re staging a military incursion into Burma. And it’s not like they don’t have problems enough of their own to deal with. Some pundits are playing it down saying it’s just the normal posturing toward China, but who cares? We both know better. You did it.”
Roger cried ‘Yihaa!’ with the force of an English soccer supporter and slapped his palms against the glass window.
“Yep, Twinkie! That’s it! That’s the Pulitzer! Right there!”
“Does that mean you’re done chasing danger now?
“I most definitely am. I’m done. This was my pièce de resistance, the once-in-a-lifetime story all reporters wait for. Now it’s time to settle down and write that great American novel.
He lowered his head bashfully. “And I’d really like to do it with you. You know, in some small town in the Midwest?”
“I would love that Roger,” she said with an enormous smile. “I think I need a career change. I’ve had enough of labs and administration. One pandemic is plenty enough. A small-town practice sounds just right.”
“You’d give up your research?”
“What this whole thing’s made me realize is I’m not cut out to be a researcher in some lab. I’m meant to be a primary care doctor. I want to treat people. I don’t want to have to trade one life against another. Once this is over, of course.”
“Yeah, once this is over.”
“Roger, I have to go back. Your tests should come through soon, and then we can let you in. I’m sure you could do with a chicken biryani after all those granola bars.”
“Ain’t that the truth. That and a good night’s sleep in that monster of a bed.”
Rebecca smiled. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. You should be cleared by then.”
Tears of relief started flowing as she walked back to her office.
AUGUST 20TH, 1 P.M., GENERAL ASSEMBLY PLENA
RY HALL, UN HEADQUARTERS, NEW YORK
Aeolus stood before the UN General Assembly again. The difference compared to the last time was striking. The auditorium was packed to the brim. Not only was every ambassador present, but every staffer, researcher or administrative liaison that could be squeezed into the hall was there as well.
He cleared his throat, the sound echoing through the PA system.
“Mr. Secretary General, Mr. President, Distinguished Representatives, Ladies and Gentlemen. I stand before you once again and my news is not good. Not good at all.
“During the last ten days, we’ve been unsuccessful in containing the infection and we now face a situation bordering on the worst-case scenario I laid out before. The situation has been upgraded to Phase Six, the highest threat level, which means this is now a full-blown pandemic. Using an analogy from the US military, with which you would all be familiar with from Hollywood movies, we are now at DEFCON One.
“Over the last week, we discovered the origin of the virus. It was unintentionally released from a North Korean bio-weapons lab during a transport of samples. The documents at the lab contained no useful information. The one thing we know is that the virus is based on the 1918 Spanish flu, but has, through primitive methods of genetic engineering, been bred to be more virulent and more deadly.
“The infection has spread outside the current quarantine zones. The WHO now feels that any effort to prevent the spread across the Eurasian continent, Africa and Australia would be futile. I’m sure you can all envision the societal breakdown we’ve seen in Southeast Asia occurring in your own cities.”
He paused to let that sink in.
“The Book of Ezekiel says: ‘A third part of thee shall die with the pestilence, and with famine shall they be consumed a midst of thee.’ It looks as if this prophecy is about to come true, and those who will perish of famine will be the children, forced into the streets because their parents are dying or dead.
“But – and this is my most important message today – there’s still hope. There are still measures we can take to protect ourselves.
“First, there are still no documented cases on the American continents. Maintaining that is not only the highest priority for those countries, but us all. Ensuring that a large region of the world continues to function is vital to our ability to provide relief and support to those countries who don’t.
“Second, as of yesterday we have a rapid test for the infection. It’s not perfect, but it will help. With this, effective quarantines can be maintained around populated areas where geographical conditions so allow. By surrounding the entry points of major cities with military or paramilitary forces equipped with protective gear, an inflow of people who are not infected can be sustained without threatening the safety of the residents.
“Facing this new situation, we have been forced to change the priorities for the WHO. Going forward, we will primarily focus on protecting the Americas. Beyond that, we will globally coordinate the production and distribution of the rapid test, prioritizing recipients based on estimated lives saved. Finally, we will work with your local governments to establish which zones within the country can most effectively be quarantined.
“I heard someone say in the corridor that ‘it is never as dark as just before it goes pitch-black.’ Generally, I would agree with this. It is a prudent view to have. It’s important not come under the sway of overconfidence and wishful thinking. But, it is not a good attitude to adopt if it leads to lethargy.
“In closing, let me say this. We have lost the first battle, and we’ve taken considerable casualties. But the war is not over, and our spirit must not be broken. At the battle of Marne, during the First World War, the French general Ferdinand Foch famously sent General Jeffe the following dispatch: ‘My left flank is falling apart. My right flank is all but obliterated. The situation is splendid. I shall attack in the morning.’’
“In face of the threat we are under, we would all do well to adopt the attitude of General Foch.”
Aeolus stepped down from the podium and left the hall in deafening silence.
AUGUST 20TH, MIDNIGHT, OFFICE OF THE DIRECTOR, WHO REGIONAL OFFICE, SHAM NATH MARG, NEW DELHI
Rebecca was just about to call it a night when there was a knock on her office door. It was the Head of Security – Mr. Chakravarty.
“Yes?” Rebecca answered, stacking up some reports for reading in bed.
“Dr. Summers, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
“Mr. Chakravarty, I get bad news every hour.”
“Yes, but this is more personal. Mr. Burton’s test results have come back. He has antibodies for the Maluku Flu in his blood. He will not be leaving isolation any time soon.”
“But he doesn’t have any symptoms,” Rebecca instinctively countered. “He must be an asymptomatic carrier. We’ll have to hold him for two weeks but he’ll be fine.”
“Dr. Summers, I would not get my hopes up just yet. As you know there are people who succumb even after being asymptomatic for a week. These are the ones who get what you call ‘cytokine storms,’ no?”
Rebecca thought she could detect a hint of a smile on his lips. So this was his way of getting back at her, because she insulted his manhood by having Aeolus roll over him? How ridiculous. Roger was fine. She knew it. And no one on this continent was a better judge of this infection than her.
“That’s true, but it’s a rare occurrence. He’ll be fine,” she said, giving him a stern stare meant to remind him who was really in charge.
“If you say so, Dr. Summers,” said Chakravarty backing out of the room with a mocking bow.
“There must be a special place in hell for people like that,” Rebecca thought as she waved him off.
After he’d left and her anger had subsided, she had a sudden stab of pain in the middle of her chest. If she removed her emotions from the equation, there was a distinct possibility that Roger was actually going to fall ill.
Tears started forming in her eyes but she willed them to stop. She had to pull it together. There was a good chance that Roger would turn out be asymptomatic, and even if he wasn’t, the odds of survival were good.
He would be fine. She had responsibilities. She did not have time for this. And neither did the people whose lives she was trying to save.
AUGUST 21ST, 5 P.M., AEOLUS’S TEMPORARY OFFICE, OLD EXECUTIVE OFFICE BUILDING, WASHINGTON D.C.
“What!?” Aeolus yelled into the phone.
He’d parked himself in the closest office to the president his stature could command. This turned out to be the Old Executive Office Building across the street from the White House. The office smelled of paper dust. The facilities were sub-par. The speaker on the conference phone produced terrible distortions. But, proximity to the president was more important than convenience or ambience at this point.
“Yes, sir, I’m afraid so…” answered Walt from the other end of the line.
“They want to discuss terms!?”
“Yes, sir, and they won’t start full-scale production until we agree on them.”
“Vermin and parasites – that’s what they are! We should infect their children and see what terms they’d want then!”
“The good news is that the Wellcome Foundation is already going ahead and the Chinese have diverted all their available resources to producing of the rapid tests.”
“Ah… Dictatorial communism has its benefits after all.”
“Yes, I guess so, sir.”
“Walt, I’m telling you, this time ‘Big Pharma’ has gone too far. I’m going to run a skewer through them and burn them over a slow-burning fire like a spit-roast. I’ll take care of this. You can rest assured. Assume and plan for global production at full scale by tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir, we will.”
“Are any countries giving my deputies problems with the micro-quarantine zones?”
“No, not as of yet. We’re focusing on the larger western European nations so far, and they’ve been cooperative. The
Scandinavian heads of state met two hours ago and have put their resources under the direct control of the regional WHO head. Your speech at the UN was very convincing.”
“Good.” Aeolus hung up without saying goodbye.
Richard piped up. “I don’t get it. The medical companies won’t produce the rapid test?”
“No, not until they have negotiated terms, by which they mean how much they’re going to gauge us for it. The global economy’s crashing, their stocks are the only ones going up. The market is already factoring in that they will extort us for all the gold in the land. The stock of Pharmacia & Upjohn alone has doubled the last two weeks! And the CEO wants his bonus.”
“But that’s completely unacceptable!” said Richard. “This is matter of national, no, global, security. There’s no way the president is going to accept this! He would rather declare martial law.”
“Keep in mind these companies are led by spineless maggots – not men with any sense of obligation or responsibility.”
“I’m getting the president on the phone right now,” said Richard. “I can do that you know. And I promise you he won’t hesitate a second to nationalize the entire industry. It’s within his prerogative to do so. They can try negotiating terms after that.”
“Yes, that would indeed be fun, and you should make sure he does so, but they can challenge it legally and delay it for longer than we have time for.”
“Then they can try strike a deal when they have gun barrels pointed to their heads. Tougher guys than them have tried to negotiate with Seal Team Six.”
Aeolus smiled again, imagining the scene. “Once again, I urge you to make that happen. And get me a recording of it. I’d watch it every night before bed. But it still doesn’t solve the problem. The production facilities are globally distributed. The factories in Panama won’t care about the presidential decree. And with all the respect to the SEALs, you simply don’t have enough of them to do what we need to do. There’s a faster way.”
The Nightmare Scenario Page 26