“That’s not a bad idea about the notes.” He said nodding, “We should all do that.”
He sat down on an ottoman and leaned towards the television, watching closely. Nikki noted how his face changed in a funny expressive way to certain things being said by the broadcast. It was subtle; a pinch of the eyes, a raising of the brow, or the way he turned his head to the right just a little bit to listen closely. She was starting to pick up on his manners. She wondered if his left ear didn’t hear as well as the right or if it had something to do with the different sides of the brain. She knew one side was good at math and the other was good at lying, but she couldn’t remember which one was which. She liked that she was able to make an observation about Tony. For some reason, she was happy to be able to read him, even if just a little.
The television cut to a beautiful doe-eyed newsreader with blonde hair sitting on a couch in a brightly lit studio. The camera approached low in a full-shot that showed her long tanned legs and short skirt. Exciting up-tempo drums and trumpeting horns played in from the break. Nikki saw Tony cock a half smile at the woman’s appearance. The woman spoke.
“With us now via satellite is Professor Neil Bryce from Nasa-Ames Jet propulsion laboratory. Professor, I’m sure the first question on everybody’s mind is; why was there no warning of this meteor?”
The Professor, a middle aged man in a blue sweater, lifted his eyes behind thick glasses thoughtfully and nodded.
“Well, what fell to earth were meteorites, they came from a very small asteroid; three actually that the French have named Cerberus. The problem has to do with something called Albedo, which is the reflectivity of a celestial body. These objects are essentially completely black and reflect no light at all; hence, they’re impossible to see unless they transit, or pass, a bright object. Now we also scan the heavens with radio telescopes but the unique composition of these asteroids, their shape and size, were not detected until it was too late.” He lifted a large piece of film to show to the camera. The image was not unlike a huge x-ray. It showed a white banded area of a planet with a small fleck of dirt in a corner. He pointed to the tiny fleck.
“Cerberus most likely left a belt of asteroids around our solar system called the Kuiper Belt, oh around the time of Christ. We believe that this asteroid was seen as a whole about fifteen years ago on a few frames taken of Jupiter, here. The only reason we could even see it was because it was so unreflective and stood out in contrast to the gas giant.” The professor showed another image, this time with three smaller flecks in place of the first.
“Here we see that the super gravitational forces surrounding Jupiter tore the first body into three smaller pieces.” The professor put down the images and removed his glasses. “We thought that it was destroyed as so many strays from the Kuiper belt are by Jupiter. But it must have been slingshot out of harms way and towards us.”
The television changed to a two-shot of both interviewer and the Professor underneath a graphic that said, ‘Why didn’t we see this coming???’ The interviewer nodded and spoke.
“So what can you tell us about its composition? If it is thousands of years old as you say, how can these meteorites make people sick?”
“The Meteorites are what we call Carbonaceous Chondrites. They’re very old, perhaps left over from when our solar system formed. The samples we have seen show a high metal composition such as carbonized iron and the mineral Olivine.” The professor said while the interviewer continued to nod as if she had the slightest idea what Olivine was. He continued.
“But what is most interesting is the almost honeycombed structure. There are spaces within that contain a number of organic molecules; complex nucleic acids and proteins that have yet to be identified.” With this the interviewer became visibly curious.
“Are you talking about germs?” she asked.
“We don’t know. There is still much to study, but the basic elements of life may be inside these meteorites.”
“This sounds incredible. I find it hard to believe that anything could live in space.” She dismissed.
“Not life as you know it, but a beginning. One of the men who discovered DNA, James Watson, was a believer in the theory of Panspermia; that life here had its beginnings out there. It’s only after such organic compounds were introduced to the primordial earth that they began to thrive and evolve into the biodiversity that we have today.” The professor smiled and the woman frowned while a skeptical look came over her. The professor added.
“Then again, an asteroid wiped out the dinosaurs, so who knows.” He smiled again. “You do believe that there were Dinosaurs once, or do you?”
The woman with big hair scowled.
“Then why haven’t we ever heard of organic compounds in Meteorites before?” She challenged smugly.
“Well we have, it just doesn’t get same exposure as war and gossip. The Murchison meteorite recovered in nineteen-sixty-nine had as many as seventeen different amino acids and other organic compounds present. Not to mention the Martian meteorite ALH-Eighty-Four-double-oh-one, which contained what appeared to be fossilized bacteria.” His smile faded.
“But the Martian meteorite was debunked. They couldn’t prove that it was bacteria inside.” She smiled.
“But we couldn’t disprove it either.” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “The fact of the matter is that these most recent meteorites are infecting people. The mechanism through which it is doing so is not important right now. What is important is that the people stay away from any of these meteorites. Their composition after entry into our atmosphere makes them highly volatile. They can just explode for no reason at all and throw their Organic Material, some distance. You certainly don’t want to get any of that on you.” He emphasized the words “Organic Material” almost mockingly.
“Well, thank you for your time professor.” The woman said smiling. He interrupted.
“And avoid contact with the infected. They’re carrying the same compounds in their blood. If you hit one with a bat or a stick, be careful, you could infect yourself by careless contact.”
“Thank you very much sir. And now let’s have a look at a tape from earlier today at the Pentagon.” The newsreader smiled as if all was fine with the world.
Nikki saw Jack leave through the front door. Tony stood and began to follow. Suddenly Nikki became very worried.
“Where’re you going?”
Tony turned, “Gonna see what clothes I have left. I gotta take a shower.”
“That sounds like a good idea.” She sighed
“You wanna take one?” he asked. She lowered her eyebrows and stiffened.
“There’s a shower in the upstairs guest room.” He said and pointed up towards a door. “Veronica and the nice lady are staying in the master bedroom. Jack and I’ll stay down here so that leaves you your own room. I’m gonna use the shower on this floor.”
“Oh.” She said looking up the stairs, “Okay, thanks.” She said and started up the stairs. Tony turned and almost walked into Mason returning through the door with his sword in hand. Tony stopped and let him pass.
“That freaked her out.” Mason said. Tony didn’t understand what he referring to. He watched Mason head to the kitchen then through the back door and decided that he didn’t care.
Fourteen
Dried blood, the color of rust, wrapped around Mason’s blade as he unsheathed the Katana in the backyard. He grimaced at the knowledge that the inside of his scabbard was also contaminated. He could still use it to keep the blade safe but there would be a good chance that the sword could become recontaminated with each sheathing. Not to mention that old Ninja trick of submerging oneself underwater and breathing through the scabbard would now be impossible. Even if Mason boiled it for an hour, he would never trust its sterility again. The blade however, something he had since his youth, was impossibly important to him.
Mason washed the blade and scabbard off with the hose and was able to get a majority of the undead blood removed. He
then sprayed a highly flammable aerosol lubricant, WD-40, over the metal surface. He coated the blade until it began to drip with the light oil. A voice caught his attention.
“Whatcha doing?” Veronica said from the balcony above.
“Oh hey.” He said fishing in his pocket. “Just trying to sterilize my sword.” He lit a lighter and touched the flame to the base of the Katana. The blade ignited with a whoosh and burned with a bright orange glow. He extended it and thought that it looked pretty damn cool. Small flaming droplets dripped to the ground and hissed in the moist grass. He turned the Katana slowly and let the flames coat and cleanse the blade.
“Bleach would probably do a better job.” Veronica said with an amused expression.
“Bleach huh?” Jack asked.
“Yeah, it kills just about every virus or bacteria. It’s what the junkies use to clean their needles.” She grinned down towards him.
The flame died down quickly. “Okay, I’ll try that.”
“But you gotta soak it for a few minutes. Not just wipe it down.” She said.
“Right, soak it. Gotcha.” He said.
“Good night Jack.” She said and closed the sliding glass door.
“Good night.” He said.
He walked some distance away from the house, down towards the calm lake shore that was behind the property. Jack pulled his cell phone from his pocket and turned to look towards town. He saw a faint red flicker from the top of a radio tower.
“If you see the tower…” he whispered to himself and opened his phone. He dialed his mother’s cell phone and cursed when he received the same cycling tone that signified an incomplete call. Jack spat and started dialing out a text message to his mother’s number. He disliked texting because he found the process slow and pointless but was willing to try anything to get word to his mother. He wasn’t sure she would know how to respond but he had to try. After a few minutes of careful typing Jack had his message ready.
‘Me & Tony safe in Whisper CA. Leaving for Berkeley tomorrow. Respond if possible. Love Jack.’
He reread the message three times and felt it insufficient. He wanted to say more, to be able to do more, to leave right now and search San Francisco for his parents. He would start at their home, then the restaurant, and if need be, ask the local cops where the evacuees were being taken. He was willing to turn the city upside down to find them. Looking back at the house, he wished he was on the road. Jack sent the message on his phone and hoped that the text would somehow make it through. A moment passed and the phone said, ‘Message sent.’
Tony was relieved to finally be clean. It had been a few days since his last shower at the campgrounds and he knew that all the action must have left him murderously fragrant. He dressed in his last clean shirt and a pair of shorts while throwing the rest of his and Jack’s remaining clothes in the washer. As he added soap to the machine, he heard soft footsteps from behind in the carpeted hallway. The steps were small, slow, and most likely belonged to Nikki.
“You are the sneakiest little Ninja, aren’t you?” he said without turning around. The steps stopped, and he suddenly worried that it might be the nice old lady. This might take some explaining, he thought but was relieved when he heard Nikki’s voice speaking low.
“Not that sneaky, I guess.” Her voice was deep and scratchy, giving her an unintentionally sexy intonation. Tony turned to her concerned.
“Got a sore throat?” He asked.
“I was yelling a lot in the shack.” She said shaking her head. “I guess it’s catching up to me.”
Tony nodded. Her hair was in disarray as if she had been tossing and turning for a while. Tony would have found this sexy if not for the sheer exhaustion weighing on her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“My ears are ringing, I can’t get to sleep.” She said with frustration.
“Oh,” He nodded, “you were shooting without earplugs today.” Tony said and took her by the shoulder to lead her back to her room.
“It was really loud.” She almost pouted.
“You were indoors too, that makes it worse. The sound just bounces off the walls right back at you. It’s not like in the movies where they pop off rounds and it’s no big deal.”
He sat her down on the bed and looked around the room. On the nightstand he saw a small clock radio.
“Your ears have been ringing all day, but you haven’t noticed it until now because the room’s quiet and you’re trying to sleep.” He said while examining the buttons on the clock radio. “It used to happen to me after Metallica concerts. What you need is something to distract your ears.”
The clock radio began playing with the voice of a news announcer. Tony quickly moved the tuner dial until the news was replaced with static. He turned the volume down so that it was just a gentle white noise.
“I set the sleep timer so it’ll turn off in an hour but you’ll be out before that.”
“Thanks,” Nikki said with a weary smile and lay down. He helped her with her blanket and turned off the light.
“Good night gorgeous.” He said and closed the door.
Fifteen
Alexandra sat alone in the starboard gunner’s seat of the Blackhawk reminding herself not to clench her jaw. Morning came too early and she was operating on only very little sleep. She also had the feeling that she had been grinding her teeth during those few short hours. She had spent the last forty minutes of the early-morning flight staring at the back of Gavin Richardson’s helmet as he sat in the co-pilot’s seat. Leaving her facility wasn’t what she had in mind but when the old man says jump, you jump. Her jaw clenched again, forcing her near perfect teeth together. She turned away and looked to her laptop computer for distraction.
Alexandra opened the personnel files for Richardson’s private security company to familiarize herself with the Aries team that would act as their bodyguards. The information wasn’t very specific. Some had more then one language; one had computer skills, another had communications training, a third demolitions experience. One contractor named Reiss, was listed as an expert in interrogation; not an unusual skill. What was remarkable was that his file said he stood before a Court Martial and served two years in military prison before being dishonorably discharged. Alexandra had heard some strange things about the contractors at Aries but couldn’t imagine that Richardson would hire a dishonorable discharge. Each contractor had at least one tour of combat in Iraq or Afghanistan which was common for contractors. It was rumored that Aries Inc. only employed soldiers with confirmed enemy kills on their record. Alexandra wasn’t sure if that was true or not, she wasn’t usually privy to their company information as they were a subsidiary of RAM but had nothing to do with her department. She didn’t doubt that Richardson’s private bodyguards all had confirmed kills; that would be just his style, but why would he hire a former criminal?
She opened the file for Lewis, the team medic. She wondered if Medics carried weapons. Wasn’t there something in the Geneva conventions about Medics not carrying weapons so that they wouldn’t be shot at? Did the Red-cross on their helmets signify that they were non-combatants? She couldn’t remember. Lewis’ file said he was a recent hire with high scores and commendations. She would have to remember to ask him about medics if given a chance.
As she searched she noticed that the leader of the team, Royce Denkinger, specifically requested by the old man, wasn’t listed on the roster. She didn’t think that the archive Richardson had given her would be incomplete; that would be unusual. She did a general search through the archive for the team leader’s name and nothing returned. Alexandra frowned. She spoke into her headset.
“Sir? I’m not finding a file for Mr. Denkinger.” She saw from the back of Richardson’s head that he was laughing.
“No, you wouldn’t. It’s classified.”
“Classified sir?”
“Yes, and you’re not to ask him about his experience.”
“Understood sir.” She lied.
&nb
sp; How could a private military contractor not even have an employment record? She understood classified military records. Sometimes they only listed that a soldier served in an area, not a specific place, especially if the operation was a covert one. But each of these men received a minimum of one hundred thousand dollars a year depending on their skill set. Denkinger would probably fall into the quarter of a million dollar range. This would merit more investigation. She made a mental note to add Denkinger’s name to her list of suspicious company activities. Paying a contractor off the books wasn’t going to get anyone in serious trouble, but she had a feeling that there was a lot more to it.
“Ms. Devereaux, are you able to connect to our corporate servers?” Richardson asked in her headphone. Her fingers trotted a pattern across the keys.
“Yes sir. The Blackhawk can bounce data to the network in flight.” She said trying to hide her excitement while buying time. This could be one hell of an opportunity. If he wanted to check his e-mail or stock portfolio or log into the company server, she could capture his password. She executed an application on her laptop that would log any keystrokes made on the machine. No matter what encryption he connected through, she would have a record of the buttons he pushed and in what order. The idea of having his level of access to the trove of company secrets almost made her mouth water. With the program running, she executed another to hide it from detection. Richardson was a careful man, but she was reasonably sure he wouldn’t see through her gambit.
“Would you like to use the computer sir?” she offered, almost smiling. His head remained forward.
“Perhaps later.” He said coldly.
Sixteen
Margaret was the first to awaken in the early morning. Her legs still burned and her heels stung from her journey but she imagined that her young friends must have felt somehow worse. The girl next to her didn’t even stir as Margaret got out of bed, used the restroom, and got dressed. She didn’t know what these young people had endured but they certainly deserved their rest. Famished, she decided to have a look in the kitchen downstairs.
Rise & Walk (Book 2): Pathogen Page 11