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Aethon Arises (Endless Fire Book 2)

Page 7

by R E Kearney


  “Proximity, population and protection. I’m close to a major source of patients…America.” Shengwu points north toward the US. “Many Americans need, want and, most important, can afford the genome treatments that Abaddon’s US government refuses to permit. So here, I’m able to treat them while Negocio protects me with his independence and freedom from America’s ruling bible bullies.”

  Shengwu touches her chest. “Besides, you forget. I’m American. Remember? California born and raised. China is just as foreign to me as it is to you. In fact in China, my father and I were considered US spies. But then again, they ran us out of the US because they thought we were Chinese spies. You could say, I was without a country until Negocio and Puerto Rico offered me a home. I owe him my life.”

  Stopping to view the interior of the last room, Shengwu rubs her hands together philosophizing. “I also believe a small nation like Puerto Rico with intelligent citizens starving and striving for success is better than a big nation filled with millions of unevolved, entitled and self-satisfied people.”

  She draws Robert’s attention to the nurse-bots assisting the room’s patient. “With today’s world being operated by robots, computers and Artificial Intelligence there are far too many people left with nothing to do. I contend the world needs billions less. Uneducated, indolent individuals are dragging us all down. In the past, large populations equaled power, but today a large population equals poverty. Only negative population growth with eugenics planning will save humanity and the world. Well, anyway, that’s my opinion and my design.”

  Shocked again by Shengwu’s radical philosophy, Robert attempts to divert their conversation. “Well, I guess I’ll have to agree to some extent. As I told Negocio, advanced and educated, small-population states like Singapore, Estonia, Sweden and Denmark do seem to be succeeding while large population nations of Russia, India and the US are divided and failing. That’s certainly true.”

  “Using genetic engineering techniques my father taught me for good…for human-directed evolution, I’ll produce just the right number of innovators, inventors and imaginers Puerto Rico needs to succeed.” Robert hears Shengwu mumbling to herself before walking away from the room’s window. “At least that’s my blueprint for saving the future…and mankind.”

  At the end of the corridor, Shengwu leads Robert and Rita past a panel labeled Lobby and through another sliding door into a utilitarian, almost empty, room. In its center stands an adjustable-height desk with a pair of gestural interface gloves, a pair of data gloves and a holographic electroencephalographic algorithm receiver and transmitter or HEART hat laying on top. Stretching across the three walls facing the door are wall-sized, gesture-interface, display screens. Shengwu has created an immersive collaboration platform capable of interfacing, interacting, conferencing and collaborating visually with individuals around the globe.

  “Well Robert, what do you think of my dynamic, infopresence workspace?” Shengwu sweeps her arm leading Robert’s eyes around the room.

  “Did you construct all of this for me?”

  “Oh no.” She chuckles as she walks to a spot on the wall close to the door. “This is my workspace. But, it’s yours to share for as long as you need it. The gloves and HEART hat will give you the access to our system you’ll require for your work.”

  She waves her hand before a sensor. An air-cushion, lounge couch appears out of the wall. “When you need to relax or think sitting down or even sleep, you can operate the workspace from here. I call this room my electronic brain cell. It’s all alive.”

  Pointing at a bouquet of wilted Plumeria blossoms scattered atop Shengwu’s couch, Rita broadly smiles. “Aw, I see your biggest, little fan has visited recently.”

  Blushing, Shengwu scoops up the flowers. “Yes, Peter is still my best boyfriend. He brought these flowers by this morning before Margarete took him to preschool. Every flower came with a little kiss. Just love that little guy. Love him so much.”

  “Oh yes, he is a sweetie.” Rita grins. “How old is he, now?”

  “He is about the same age, my son would have been, if he had lived.” Although speaking at Robert and Rita, Shengwu is staring wishfully into her memories. “Here is a lesson for both of you. Hereditarily diseased people like me should not try to have children. Even in vitro fertilizing myself with the best sperm I could find…the donor looked a lot like you Robert…did not save my baby from my bad genes. When I held my poor, bent and disfigured innocent baby in my arms, I cried and I cried. His only mistake was me. Coming from me. He opened his eyes, looked at me, and then he died. I gave him the name, Bǐdé. Do you know what Bǐdé means, Robert?”

  Although his inner ear translator interprets Chinese, Robert shakes his head. “No, no, I don’t.”

  “Surprisingly, it’s Chinese for Peter.” Shengwu smiles at the flowers. “I found the Peter I lost, here. I don’t ever want to lose him again. Ever.”

  Rita gently pulls the Plumeria from Shengwu’s hand to end her daydreaming. “I’m jealous. I haven’t received flowers for such a long time. Aren’t they pretty Robert?”

  “Oh yes, pretty.” Uncomfortable, Robert follows Rita’s lead and returns their conversation to Shengwu’s workspace. “So, tell me how all of this works.”

  Shengwu claps her hands and the middle screen sparkles to life. Projected in virtual reality in front of the screen, far larger than life, is Pion. Robert immediately recognizes her expressionless face behind her expression recognition glasses. He is thrilled that she has returned to the unemotional, high-functioning autistic savant, he watched mentally combat an artificial intelligence quantum computer in Africa. From an isolated SPEA coffee plantation in Ethiopia, using only the power of her mind, she had prevented another US and Russian war. But her battle against AIDAS crushed her. She was rocking and stimming and buried within herself when he last saw her.

  “Good morning Pion.” Robert waves and sunnily smiles.

  “You are wrong, Robert. It is night. You are late. I have been waiting for you.” Pion’s normally monotone, expressionless voice is abruptly elevated. “They are attacking us. You know. You must stop them!”

  DEAD AND DYING

  “How many more?”

  “Six, Doctor Salud. Three couples.” Infectious Disease Specialist Malo Tripa delivers his morning update to his senior colleague, Infectious Disease Internist Flojo Salud.

  “Dead?”

  “Two. A man and his wife. The other four are in intensive care and not stabilizing.” Specialist Tripa continues.

  “Ok. So, now we have four dead. The two men from the other night and the man and his wife from last night. Do you have their autopsy results?”

  “Yes Doctor Salud, right here. According to the report, they immediately rejected typhus, typhoid and malaria. So it appears they suspected Ebola, since they conducted immunohistochemistry testing, a polymerase chain reaction test and a virus isolation on the four deceased, plus Antigen-capture enzyme-linked immunosorbent assay testing on the four critical patients.” He replies, reading from his augmented reality glasses’ diagnostic report screen.

  “And…?”

  “…And they can’t identify it.” Tripa blinks his eyes to update his AR glasses screen. “But, because of the test results, they’re ruling out that new, extremely virulent Ebola super-virus that they’re fighting in Africa. Also the serial development of ulcerating nodules they found in their upper respiratory tracts and lungs is not Ebola related. Neither are the aortic ruptures that ultimately killed those four people. Only the extremely high fevers and the fast progression of the illness is similar to Ebola.”

  Pacing nervously while tapping her fingers together, Doctor Salud considers all of her limited options. “Having eliminated everything else, I believe I was correct with my initial diagnosis last night. I think this is that new superbug devastating the wilds and wastedlands of Tennessee and Kentucky. I received a social media alert about it. They’re calling it heart fever. My
social media contacts think that it’s already killed hundreds. Seems death is its first and only symptom. Other than that, nobody knows much about it. US government is suppressing all news.”

  Tripa nods his head in agreement. “If the government is squashing reports, that would explain why I found no mention of it when I searched all the online international medical information systems. Most unusual.”

  After accessing Tripa’s reports through her own AR glasses, Doctor Salud judiciously reviews the test results again. “Whatever it is, this is beyond my knowledge. I don’t know what to do for them. I just don’t know. I’m at a total loss here. I don’t know what else I can do. I’ve never seen anything that kills this fast.”

  Salud’s wrist buzzes and she smiles with relief. “Earlier, I contacted Shengwu to see if she would help us. She just agreed. So, we’ll need to transfer the patients to Stamina Vitae, immediately.”

  “Alright, I’ll begin preparing the patients for transfer.” Tripa alerts his orderly-robots. “They’re in isolation now, so we’ll need personal protective equipment and powered air-purifying respirators for both the patients and their attendants.”

  Doctor Salud shakes her head. “No, don’t send human attendants. Too risky. Too much chance of spreading this…whatever it is. Use our autonomous medical transfer drones.”

  “Ok doctor, we’ll use nurse-bots to transfer them, then we’ll disinfect the bots and the drones, afterward.”

  “I want to transfer the four dead as well. Shengwu has agreed to look at them too. So, bio-bag them, tag them and ship them.”

  AETHON ARISES

  The afternoon sun is raging when the protestors swarm into the street automatically halting the six autonomous medical transfer drones. Yelling and waving their signs, they give a good show for a short time. Then, they begin retreating into the shade. Except for one man. He grabs at his chest. Without a sound, he slams face first into the pavement. Dead.

  Blood is pooling beneath the man’s head as the protestors race back to assist him. Shouting “Abel, Abel”, a woman lifts the man’s head attempting to roll him onto his back. Two male protestors hastily join her. Together they turn the man over and begin dragging him toward their tent. Their hands drip of his blood.

  As soon as the protestors clear the street, the medical transfer drones proceed. Just outside of the facility, the two security-bots approach, survey and inspect each of the drones. Cleared, the gates open and the drones slowly advance. One by one, they disappear beneath the ground into the facility’s belly.

  For their own safety, all the human counselors have been removed from the facility. With regret, Shengwu also ordered Margarete and Peter to stay away. But, Peter refused. During a quick drive by visit, he delivered his daily kisses along with a small Saint John the Baptist medal. As he proudly pinned the medal of Puerto Rico’s patron saint to Shengwu’s blouse, he informed her that now she is protected from all bad things. Shengwu lovingly fingers the medal as she awaits the medical transfers.

  “I’m surprised at you, Shengwu.” Robert remarks, pointing toward Peter’s medal. “I didn’t think a serious scientist like you would get sucked in by a local superstition.”

  Tetchily, Shengwu drops her hand to her side. “Superstition? No, I’m not placing any faith in this medal Robert. But, I do believe in the love of my best little boy pal Peter. When he pinned this on me this morning, he told me it will keep me safe so I can help people. We’ll soon learn if he’s correct.”

  Inside Stamina Vitae, nurse-bots shuttle the patients, with their life support systems attached, from the drones and up to genetic sampling rooms. The rooms are sterile with positive air flow. And as an extra precaution, Shengwu, Robert and Rita again don biohazard suits and helmets, even though they are observing from the separating corridor through the windows. With a satisfied sigh, Robert stretches to his full height in his newly printed biohazard suit. He extends his arms toward the ceiling and then bends and touches his shoe tops.

  One by one, they watch nurse-bots slide the patients into their individual genetic sampling machines. The process is quick. It must be. Second by second, each barely living patient is failing closer to death. After less than five minutes, the required genetic samples arrive at the appropriate gene analysis station.

  “Robert and Rita...” Shengwu taps them on their shoulders. “…we need to move to my workspace and interface with Pion. She’ll tweak and twist SPEA’s computer and decipher this puzzle.”

  “I just hope she can do it fast enough. None of these people look like they have time to spare.” Rita hurries past Robert and Shengwu. “This is not terminal cancer where you have six months. This is just terminal. They may not have six hours.”

  As they enter the room, there is virtual reality Pion, wearing one of the HEART hats she designed. Her mind is flowing into her HEART and into the artificial intelligence quantum computer. They are one. Robert, Rita and Shengwu are spellbound watching her mentally manipulating her gesture-interface, display screens. A Brain ballet.

  Expecting an answer at any moment, the Puerto Rico trio are waiting and sweating in their biohazard suits. With his nervous-energy, excited blood pounding like a drum in his ears, Robert realizes he cannot just stand, stare and wait. For relief, he decides to direct his attention to fulfilling his service contract - hunting hackers.

  After removing his biohazard hood, Robert slides Shengwu’s HEART hat onto his head. Turning away from the fidgeting Rita and Shengwu, he activates a separate display screen and prepares to begin sniffing through the facility’s data stream. Interfacing his HEART hat with the Cloud through the chip located in his left forearm, he activates his personally developed packet sniffing program. With his packet sniffer, he captures the data packets flowing across Shengwu’s network in a process similar to the obsolete wire-tapping of a telephone network.

  Carefully and intensely, using his packet sniffer, he analyzes the facility’s server logs, encrypted codes, transmitted data and messages sent and received between Stamina Vitae and SPEA. The code engulfs him like a river he is swimming. Searching to detect signs of intrusion, cyber-spying, cyberespionage, cyber-theft, malware or viruses reveals to him the facility’s internal processes and activities in their entirety. But, he ignores everything that is normal in the data stream. He is seeking irregularities.

  “Wait a second, now, that’s interesting.” Robert mumbles to himself and halts the code flow. Carefully, he studies a suspicious packet of code bobbing along in the data stream. It does not belong there. This packet is unique. Yet, he does not recognize the code as a virus or malware he knows.

  Slow-blinking his eye contact-lens-recorder, he captures it and transmits it to his cyber analytics equipment for further study. He wonders if this strange packet is what Pion claims is attacking. The more he analyzes it, the more he begins to consider it a code packet designed for cyber-theft. Somebody is attempting to steal Shengwu’s genome editing algorithms, not interfere, Robert determines.

  Rita’s rough shaking of Robert’s shoulder yanks him out of his data stream study. “Pion’s back with her results.”

  A solemn Pion straightens her expression-recognition glasses and stares at them, waiting for the trio to give her their complete attention. When the trio is fully focused, with a fatigued, measured voice, she describes her research results. “Glanders. Analysis of the eight samples indicates the presence of a mutated, antibiotic-resistant Glanders superbug. Glanders…”

  “Rita raises her hand. “Uh, pardon me. Excuse me, but what is Glanders? I’ve never heard of it.”

  “As I was about to explain…” An annoyed expression crosses Pion’s face.

  Robert decides that her expression-recognition glasses are not making her any more personable than in Ethiopia. Pion is just as challenging in virtual reality as she is in reality. She still considers an interruption to be a personal insult.

  “…Glanders is a contagious, acute, usually fatal disease of Equ
idae, or, as you would say, the horse family. It’s caused by Burkholderia mallei, which is a human and animal pathogen. Glanders is characterized by serial development of ulcerating nodules that are most commonly found in the upper respiratory tract and lungs. Felidae, or members of the cat family, and other species are also susceptible, and infections are usually fatal. Glanders is a zoonotic disease, so it is highly infectious for humans from horses, with a ninety-five percent fatality rate in untreated septicemia cases.”

  “Sorry…uh…septicemia?” Rita cautiously asks.

  Pion sighs impatiently. “Septicemia is an invasion of the bloodstream by virulent microorganisms and especially bacteria, along with their toxins from a local seat of infection accompanied especially by chills, fever, and prostration.”

  “So it’s blood poisoning then. Why didn’t you just say that?” Rita and Pion continue to frustrate and annoy each other.

  “No. It is more. Septicemia is a dangerous infection of the blood, which may be spread through contact with the blood, nasal exudates or mucous of infected mammals. Without treatment, Glanders bloodstream infections are usually fatal within seven to ten days. Because it spreads so fast and has such a high fatality rate, Glanders is also considered a potential bioterrorism agent. It is currently not spread by airborne transmission. However, as the pathogen continues to mutate that could change.”

  Since Robert knows and understands Pion’s autistic tendencies and need for emotionless accuracy, which Rita obviously does not, he decides to intercede with his own question once she has completed her statement. “So, Pion, have you discerned where this Glanders mutation originated?”

  “Hello Robert. I cannot determine from the genetic samples provided where this particular Glanders mutation originated. However, I conducted research and learned that fatalities from something similar to this Glanders mutation have been reported in fifty-three separate rural wilds and wastedlands spread across the American states of Missouri, Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas, Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia and western South Carolina.” Pion displays a map with the known areas of infection highlighted.

 

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