Today We Die (The Killing Sands Book 1)
Page 10
I have a very bad feeling about this. I’m beginning to wonder whether the money is worth it after all. Plus, this food is disgusting. The processor units are supposed to give us a “speedy, nutritious and delicious meal when we don’t have time to prepare one or go out”, according to the literature. I don’t know how they work—probably never will—but one thing is certain, the food is not delicious—well, not usually. I’m glad we haven’t fallen, as a society, to a level where home-cooked meals are forgotten in the wake of the fast, processed, sterile, and cardboard-tasting meals of the wall unit.
“You know Mr. Shafik may be putting more people at risk of catching this.” A statement. “Don’t we have an obligation to tell his caregivers what we suspect?” I asked Anta after ending the com with Mr. Shafik.
“Shift, you know we can’t say anything yet. It’s unfortunate, but we have to stay focused on the task at hand. My father would call it collateral damage. But he’s quarantined anyway. His caregivers are wearing masks and washing regularly. What more can be done?”
After a few moments, I asked, seriously, “By the way, do you think maybe those guys in the desert died from eating food from a wall unit? Maybe we should have the hospital check to see where Mr. Shafik has been eating.”
My comment was so off-the-wall that, despite the seriousness of the situation, Anta started to laugh, choking momentarily on her last bite of food. That got me laughing too. I laughed so hard that my stomach hurt. When we both settled down enough that she could finally catch her breath, Anta said, accusingly, “That wasn’t a nice thing to say.” We both started laughing again and couldn’t stop for several minutes.
Finally, again serious, Anta asked, “Did you tell your sister about the quarantine?” Anta knew I was struggling with our decision to keep the details out of the media and Arilee could accidentally leak the information as easily as anyone else. It really goes against my instincts to keep things this important from Arilee, since she’s the only family I’ve got. Anta was testing me.
Anta looked right into my eyes as I responded, certainly wanting to determine if I would tell her the truth. I looked right back at her and said, “She doesn’t know about the quarantine. She doesn’t even know I’m in El-Alamein.”
Anta seemed surprised by my directness.
“Before we left Apion,” I continued, “I told her that we’d be traveling into a remote part of the Sahara Desert, where communications are not always reliable. She questioned that because I told her before I left Colorado that I have the latest coms technology and should be able to overcome any local anomalies.”
“What about now,” Anta asked. “How do you explain to her what you’re wearing?”
“I haven’t talked to her through the holo since we put the suits on. Again, I’ve made the excuse about the unreliability of communications. She seems to believe me—probably because she can tell my voice isn’t very clear, talking through this Chem suit.”
“So you lied to her?” Anta asked.
“Yes. I told her we couldn’t use the holos due to the remoteness of the area where we’re working. And it’s killing me. I haven’t lied to my sister since we were kids and I accidentally ripped the arm off her stuffed bunny.”
Anta’s eyes opened wider at this last remark. She looked away briefly, then back at me. I could see the sympathy in her expression, or maybe it was the reflection from the table lamp off her visor.
“I hope this doesn’t damage your relationship. From everything you’ve said, your sister seems like a wonderful person and she doesn’t deserve to be hurt. We need to get out of here so you can reassure her honestly.”
“As soon as I can, I’ll tell her everything,” I replied.
January 8, 2093, 0818 LT
International Lunar Space Station, United States Moon Colony Medical Treatment Facility Log
Treating Physician: Dr. Feter Slomanson, MD, PhD
Patient: Dr. Jafari Ghannam (Cairo, Egypt)
Subject Complaint: severe coughing, headache, bloody sputum and stool.
Analysis:
According to Dr. Ghannam, he and his daughter began to cough, and became somewhat lethargic aboard Egypt VIII on its voyage to this Station. During the approximate 6-hour duration, his condition, and that of his daughter, became progressively worse until this morning, around 0600 LT, he began to have diarrhea, containing blood. He now presents for evaluation. Such complaints are rarely seen in combination, but are not entirely unheard of.
Dr. Ghannam was given a nebule pulmonary injection onboard Egypt VIII, which did little to arrest his coughing attacks. Before admittance here, he was given a second injection along with a combination of Ibuprofine (for pain) and Respiritol (for coughing/breathing). Neither seems to have effectively reduced his symptoms or condition. This is the more-peculiar aspect of this illness. These medications prove effective in greater than 99.98% of patients with similar ailments. I have uploaded test data, including urine and blood samples and arranged for a telecom conference with Dr. Yurgi Shevchuk at MIT-Medicine in Boston at 1300 LT tomorrow.
Treating Physician: Dr. Feter Slomanson, MD, PhD
Patient: Miss Shani Ghannam (Cairo, Egypt)
Subject Complaint: severe coughing, headache, bloody sputum and stool.
Analysis:
See notes for Dr. Jafari Ghannam, Shani’s father.
January 9, 2093, 1340 LT
International Lunar Space Station, United States Moon Colony Medical Treatment Facility Log
Treating Physician: Dr. Feter Slomanson, MD, PhD
Patient(s): Dr. Jafari Ghannam (Cairo, Egypt) and Shani Ghannam (Cairo, Egypt).
Subject Complaint: severe coughing, fever, headache, bloody sputum and stool, and now, severe pain throughout the patients’ entire bodies, interior.
Analysis:
Scans show mild deterioration of muscle and other tissue, whole body.
I have just concluded a lengthy telecom with Dr. Yurgi Shevchuk, in the presence of Dr. Ghannam and his daughter (at Dr. Ghannam’s insistence). The news is not good. Dr. Shevchuk ran every conceivable test in his attempt to discover the cause of the symptoms, the origin of the illness, and what may be accomplished to arrest the symptoms and return the patients to baseline. His information reveals that the illness is caused by a mutated form of the biological agent Bacillus anthracis. His data sources revealed that this mutation has never before been documented in any patient, anywhere in the world, nor has an infection from the common form of Bacillus anthracis been reported, in any location or person, in more than 40 years. Because the patients arrived with symptomology aboard Egypt VIII, it can be assumed that this strain of Bacillus anthracis was received by contagion from Earth, not from persons on the moon.
We have learned that Dr. Ghannam and his daughter made an expedition into the desert in Egypt prior to boarding Egypt VIII. A holo conference is being arranged for later today. Based on information received from the Egyptian Minister of Health and Population, Dr. Shevchuk hopes to locate a tour guide and a researcher in Egypt who may have knowledge about this infection, and have them join us on the call. Dr. Ghannam has a lot to tell us, but we’ll wait until the holo conference.
January 9, 2093, 1330 EET—Shift
This morning Anta and I contacted Mr. Shafik at the hospital by holo. We’ve decided to stay indoors to avoid what we believe would be an onslaught of questions, or worse, by the locals. They know they are quarantined, but they may not know why—yet. Their communications with outside the area are being blocked by some technology beyond my understanding, and so are most of ours. If we go outside, in our chem suits, we’re likely to be mobbed. I’m not ready to deal with that.
Strangely, looking out the windows, the people in the streets appear to be going on with their lives, believing, I guess, that this is temporary and will be over soon, and that all their questions will soon be answered. There’s no chaos like I expected. Our world has certainly come a long way from the days when mass protests and riot
ing broke out whenever a perceived injustice occurred, even to a stranger. Whether the distance we’ve traveled is good or bad, I’m not sure; but in any event, the people here are handling this quarantine peacefully.
Anyway, Mr. Shafik is now experiencing severe coughing and headaches, which we can clearly observe while speaking over the holo. He explained that his entire body feels as though it is being “struck by a million sledge hammers from the inside”. He has also been coughing up blood, remnants of which we can see on his hospital gown. His doctors can’t explain the cause and are unable to treat it, but are “doing everything they can”.
I had a short conversation with Mr. Shafik’s doctors to discuss the possibility of Anthrax. The head doctor, though seemingly doubting my theory, has assured me that he will utilize all channels of communication at his disposal, which currently isn’t much, in an attempt to verify my theory and, if confirmed, locate any medicines or other treatment protocols for Anthrax. He is admittedly uncertain whether any such medication, beyond what they currently have, still exists. I told him, confidentially, that Anthrax medicines have been ordered. Minister Chalthoum told us that such medications have to be produced, as no stock is kept on hand anywhere in the world. That sucks.
The doctor told us that Mr. Shafik’s body scans this morning reveal deterioration of his muscle and organ tissue. He likened it to an incredibly rapid aging process, as if Mr. Shafik was an old man, and getting much older by the minute.
Shortly after our Holo with Mr. Shafik and his doctor, while choking down some pre-buttered toast and scrambled eggs from the wall unit, I received a holo com from MIT Boston. Anta was with me and equally perplexed.
“Hello, this is Doctor Bader.”
“Good morning Doctor Bader, my name is Yurgi Shevchuk. I am a doctor and research professor at MIT-Medicine in Boston, Massachusetts. I must apologize for contacting you like this, without warning, but what I need to discuss with you is urgent.”
“Okay. This is my colleague Doctor Anta Chalthoum, from Cairo. May she sit in on this com?”
“Certainly. Good morning Doctor Chalthoum.”
“Good morning.”
Doctor Shevchuk continued: “I located you in a somewhat roundabout way. I believe you know of Dr. Ghannam and his daughter, who undertook an exploration of sorts near your location several days ago. They are currently hospitalized at the Medical Treatment Facility of the International Lunar Space Station. I was contacted by Dr. Slomanson at that facility regarding an interesting medical condition being suffered by Dr. Ghannam and his daughter. Dr. Ghannam provided me with the name of an Egyptian tour guide in El-Alamein. When I attempted to contact the tour guide, a Mr. Shafik, my call was re-routed to a Minister Chalthoum in Cairo who, I presume, is related to you, Doctor Chalthoum. Minister Chalthoum provided me with your name and arranged for my call to get through the communications quarantine in El-Alamein.”
“Well,” I replied, “that’s a lot of work. The reason for your com, I suppose, has to do with an untreatable form of Bacillus anthracis, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does. Let me introduce you to Dr. Feter Slomanson, the treating doctor at the lunar facility. He is with Dr. Ghannam and his daughter, Shani, right now.”
“Good morning Dr. Slomanson, Dr. Ghannam, Shani. I should com my friend, Dr. John Silitzer, Department head at the University of Colorado Biological Research Department. Just a moment.”
As we waited for John to come on, hoping he wouldn’t be asleep or in his pajamas at this hour, I reflected on my initial impressions of the people on the com. Dr. Slomanson and Dr. Shevchuk were both impeccably dressed, and probably in their late 60s or early 70s. Dr. Ghannam and his daughter both look sick, like Mr. Shafik, and that’s frightening, but expected. Anta is hot. I mean, Anta looked very presentable this morning, in her elegant chem suit. I, on the other hand, looked wrinkled in my chem suit; and, just as John looked when he picked up the holo com—old jeans and a t-shirt—very fitting for a man of science. I’m sure we made quite an impression.
More introductions were made and we began a discussion of the situation in earnest. Dr. Ghannam provided a detailed history of his trip to the Qattara Depression—interrupted by regular fits of coughing and obvious pain—some of which Anta and I already knew, but was news to the others.
Five days ago, January 4, 2093, Doctor Ghannam and his daughter traveled with Mr. Shafik into the Qattara Depression south of El-Alamein. Their purpose was to gather salt specimens for use in scientific experimentation on the moon. He didn’t go into any explanation of those experiments since it wasn’t pertinent to our discussion. He then provided a short version of Shani’s disappearance and the cave discovery.
Dr. Ghannam then said, in a heavy, but clear Egyptian accent: “In the caves, we discovered a human body which appeared to be very old, along with many ancient-looking artifacts. The body itself appeared fairly well-preserved on the exterior, but was completely hollow on the interior, apart from bones. There were no organs or other tissue. It was strange to see skin on the body, but otherwise, just a skeleton. Due to the bizarre and somewhat frightening state of the body, we did not touch it, nor get too close. It worried me. Our guide informed me that he would report both the cave discovery and the body to officials upon our return to El-Alamein. I thereafter put the body out of my mind while I focused on the arduous task of finalizing preparations for our journey to the moon.
“My daughter, Shani, who is seven years old, expressed to me last night that, while she was in the cave by herself, with no light, she stumbled in the dark. She didn’t know what she had stumbled over, and couldn’t see it, but reached out to feel it. It felt, in her words, ‘cold and kind of hard, but not like a rock’ and her hand entered a ‘hole’ in the object that had other ‘hard things sticking out, like branches on a tree’, again in her words.
“One of those ‘branches’ scratched my daughter’s hand; but she explained that she didn’t tell me about it because it didn’t hurt very badly. She’s very brave, you see. There was nothing in that cave that could have fit her description except the body, with holes in the torso and bones in the interior. So, it must have been the body that my daughter stumbled over, touched, and from which she thereafter received a scratch.”
“Doctor Bader, Doctor Chalthoum, based upon your observations, is there anything else about that cave and its occupant that may help us in our research?” Doctor Shevchuk asked, his face contorted as though he were trying to piece together a jigsaw puzzle.
“Yes, there is,” I replied. “We also found a small metal vial, approximately two inches long, which contained traces of Bacillus anthracis, along with some elements that we couldn’t identify. Dr. Silitzer, do you have anything to add?”
“Unfortunately, we have also been unable to identify those elements to date,” Dr. Silitzer replied.
“Ahhh,” Doctor Shevchuk said quietly. “That matches our research into the disease found in the blood of Dr. Ghannam and Shani. With that information, it seems apparent that Dr. Ghannam and Shani contracted the illness while in that cave. What about the tour guide? How is his health?”
“Unfortunately, it isn’t good,” I said. “He is experiencing the same symptoms as the Ghannams. His doctor told us this morning that his organs and muscle tissue are deteriorating. He said Mr. Shafik’s insides look like a very old man’s, but they didn’t look that way 24 hours ago.
“And another thing: Our sources here in Egypt inform us that there is no treatment for Anthrax currently but that a lab in Egypt is trying to produce it. I’m not so sure it will be effective once produced.”
“I agree,” Dr. Shevchuk replied. “The Ghannams have each received antibiotics which should have stopped, or at least slowed the disease processes. It has been ineffective. The rate at which our patients seem to be deteriorating may preclude any chance to even offer treatment. I’m sorry that you had to hear that Dr. Ghannam.”
Dr. Ghannam, wary, but not defeated, stated, “I would rat
her know now, in order to prepare myself and my daughter for the reality of death. Thank you for not keeping this a secret.”
“Dr. Slomanson,” Dr. Shevchuk asked, “will you please place your patients into an isolation chamber? Unfortunately, because our usual methods of treating the mild illnesses that still remain within the human population have not been effective in their treatment, and because this illness is obviously something never before encountered, and contagious, that appears to be the best course of action at the present. I believe it would also be wise to locate everyone with whom the Ghannams have been in physical contact over the past few days. They should each be placed into isolation for testing and analysis.”
Dr. Slomanson, now understanding the ramifications of what was occurring, and clearly seeing the threat, said, with urgency, “Yes! I will get on that right now. Nurse Chow,” he called over his shoulder, “please escort Dr. Ghannam and his daughter to the isolation chambers. Dr. Ghannam, I will be back with you shortly, after we conclude this com. I am so sorry for this. Please forgive me for what we must do.”
To this, Dr. Ghannam, with tears in his eyes and a voice choked with emotion, replied, “Do not worry for this small inconvenience. I understand. Shani and I will pray for the health of all, and for the strength of you and your colleagues while you search for your answers. Thank you for what you have done. Thank you to each of you. Goodbye.”
Shani began to cry as two nurses took her hands and began to pull her away from the group, with her father close behind. “Daddy, where are we going?”