by Paul Hetzer
I’m a virologist with a Ph.D. in microbiology working under AMRIIDs’ Special Pathogens Branch where I specialize in filoviruses. These are one of those wicked groups of viruses that cause Viral Hemorrhagic Fever, such as Ebola and Marburg. These are nasty single strand ribonucleic acid (RNA) viruses which devastate the human body by destroying the vascular system and the body’s ability to repair itself. They are highly infectious. We were trying to find ways to combat this family of viruses. So far without much success.
The work could be tedious and hazardous, but also exhilarating and exciting. It mostly involved endless hours in the lab, although occasionally my team and I had to travel to exotic locales when outbreaks occurred. Okay, I’m lying – they were mostly shitholes in the armpits of the world.
On that morning as I drove in to work with my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles showed white, I didn’t know it yet, but this was the day the world as I knew it was ending.
Let me digress a bit…
It had been a hot and muggy July so far and the news had been dominated by the upcoming passage of Hosteller’s Comet. The comet had become visible in our night sky weeks ago as a faint star-like object that seemed to stay just out of focus. As the weeks passed, it grew in size and prominence in our light-polluted heaven and now was even shining through the azure blue of our daytime sky like a long, diffuse cloud.
The economy, the unrest in the world, all else took a back seat to this spectacular event that we were witnessing. It wasn’t a huge comet as comets are measured, however, it was going to pass close, really close. Of course, all the doomers were out predicting the end of the world. I reckon many of them were Larry Niven fans.
I never bought into any of the doomsday scenarios that seemed to pop up at least once a decade, even after the discovery of this icy ball that was hurtling toward us at close to a million kilometers per hour.
We were what some people called preppers, although for other reasons. After an ice storm knocked out power for a week I was determined to not have my family go through all the hassle again of empty grocery store shelves, long gas lines, and waiting for water and food handouts at the local fire department. We started amassing three weeks’ worth of food and supplies. That soon turned into about six months’ worth as my policy of first in-first out and double replacement began netting results. My wife always thought I was on the edge of insanity with my disaster preparations, however, she tolerated it like a loving wife will for most of a husband’s quirks.
Holly really started buying into the preparedness genre after the comet dominated the news and our sky, you know, just in case.
We were also a family of gun enthusiasts. For a long time we had collected weapons and become proficient in their use and maintenance. We attended several defensive and tactical courses for both handguns and carbines and shot in the monthly pistol and rifle matches at our range over the years before Hosteller’s Comet made its appearance. Our gun enthusiasm could be interpreted by some from the anti-gun camp as fanaticism and our collections as arsenals, then again their unfounded fears of inanimate objects seemed to border more on the edge of a mental illness to me than me and my family punching holes in paper once a week – not that any of that would matter if that conglomeration of ice and rock were to hit us.
Unlike the Niven novel, Lucifer’s Hammer, NASA knew exactly what the orbit of this new comet was and exactly where it would pass in relationship to the Earth. They had determined that the orbital period of this long-period comet was about 92,000 years. They weren’t sure if this was its first pass, having relatively recently been ejected from the Oort cloud at the outer reaches of our solar system, or if it had been in orbit for millennia, having made possibly multiple passes since the birth of this planet.
Several new spacecraft were being launched into Earth’s orbit to capture as much comet debris as possible, along with instruments designed to take a variety of other readings and measurements, because the evidence was indicating that Earth was going to pass through the solar wind induced comet tail that was streaming for 50 million kilometers away from this dirty ball of ice.
We would be in for a spectacular show, for the Earth would pass through the ion tail with the comet a mere one million kilometers away from the planet. Less than three times the distance to the moon. There would be phenomenal meteor storms, probably the likes of which have never been seen before by human eyes. Most of the meteors would burn up far in the upper atmosphere in brilliant displays of colors as water and organic molecules trapped within the small porous bits of rock and metal boiled off.
Last night’s meteor storm was spectacular, a show to remember, but I guess the doomers weren’t too far off, for it seems it was the precursor to our troubles in some way. As we all know though, correlation does not always equal causation.
CHAPTER 2
I passed through security on the ground floor, Level 1 of the Facility, and found that only one of the two required Marines was on duty. After being cleared by the guard, I made my way down the hall toward the main conference room across from the bank of elevators that led deep into the lab complex.
The conference room was brightly lit and empty of people. A flat screen television was mounted to the wall in one corner and someone had turned it on to one of the major news networks. The volume was low but still audible over the buzzing of the florescent lights.
I took a seat in one of the leather high back chairs that surrounded the large oval conference table and sat my briefcase before me. I stared up at the images displayed by the news channel. The anchor, a young, neatly dressed man, stated that the Centers for Disease Control and World Health Organization were collaborating on identifying the cause of the illness and were recommending everyone stay at home until the epidemic was brought under control. Very little word was coming from our own government. Hospitals and clinics were being overwhelmed with the influx of sick and with the loss of their own personnel.
“Crazy, isn’t it?”
I turned and stared up into the face of Dr. Rafik, who had entered quietly behind me. His Indian accent lent a heavy inflection to his words.
“I never would have believed it possible that something like this could happen,” he said.
Dr. Anwar Rafik was a colleague of mine who ran a Level 2 lab. He was the only other civilian doctor at the Facility and had been doing some breakthrough work on Lyme disease. We were friends, although not close.
I stood to shake his hand but he backed away a few feet and shook his head. “I’m sick, Dr. McQuinn.” He forced a smile. “Whatever is out there has got me also.”
I involuntarily backed away from him in a rush of anger…and fear again. “What are you doing in here? You could be infectious!”
Before he could respond Lieutenant Colonel Hanson strode into the room, pushing past Dr. Rafik, careful not to touch him.
“He was already here,” she stated bluntly, taking a seat at the head of the table, crossing her long legs demurely even though they were clothed in the digital gray, tan and greens of her Army combat uniform trousers. She looked much more soldier than scientist/doctor in the camouflaged uniform. I didn’t miss those days of uniform wearing… much.
“By the time both of us realized he was showing signs of this illness it was too late. Two other personnel that I could contact have agreed to come in and be our lab rats, they are both also symptomatic.”
I looked up again at Anwar’s flushed face. “You should have quarantined him immediately!” I hissed.
“Dr. Rafik is on his way down to Level 6 now to get suited up.” She looked directly at Rafik as she said that. He nodded to her and gave a sad smile to me before turning and leaving.
Worry played freely across her stern, sharply contoured face, something I didn’t think was possible for her. As always her dark hair was pulled tightly back into a bun adding to the severity of her overall appearance. She had a brilliant analytical mind and not only ran the Facility, but was often invo
lved in the research. She was the driving force that had recruited me from Dietrich when I was leaving the Army.
“Look, Steve, if I had known I was walking into this facility with a hot patient walking around possibly infecting every surface that he touched, I would have met him suited up. This took us both by surprise when he started displaying symptoms not more than ten minutes ago. He has agreed to stay as one of our guinea pigs. He has no family locally anyway.” She swiveled her seat and looked up at the TV screen. “Staff Sergeant Yeop will be in shortly, along with two of our Army techs that are supposedly symptomatic. They are living here on the base so I ordered them in as additional case studies.” She took a deep breath and glanced back up at the television screen.
“Right now, Steve, our roster of staff that’s not showing suspected symptoms of the illness is you, me and Yeop. I believe our one Marine who showed up for duty may be exhibiting signs of infection, although I couldn’t get him to admit to it.” She paused again before continuing. “If this illness progresses we are in for a world of hurt.”
“Three!” I exclaimed loudly, that acidic fear in my gut now twisting into pangs of terror. “Out of ninety-some people who work here, only three aren’t symptomatic?”
She looked at me hard and nodded. “I couldn’t get hold of many of our personnel, so it’s supposition, nevertheless, I think it’s that bad.”
“What do we know?” I asked, still dazed by the news.
She steepled her fingers on the table in front of her. “I was just on with Ken Patterson at the CDC a few minutes ago. Most, if not all of their research staff has come down with the illness and he expects that they will be severely short staffed. We tossed some ideas about. Bioterrorism is low on the probability list due to the reports of the illness coming in from every country, no matter how small. I haven’t been able to confirm any of this with anyone at Dietrich.” She looked at me ominously. “I’m having trouble reaching anyone up the chain.” She looked back up at the screen again, maybe to hide the fear radiating like furnace heat in her eyes.
“One hypothesis,” she continued dryly, “is that some pathogen was released from the comet. It would explain the worldwide infection rate that’s being reported.”
I laughed nervously. “That was one of my first thoughts. But I just can’t wrap my head around anything as fragile as a bacteria or even a virus surviving the kind of temperatures involved with the friction of hitting our atmosphere. Anyway, I thought the alien virus theory through this type of vector was put to rest a long time ago.”
“I tend to agree with you, however, you have to admit it fits the facts. Ken said he’s heard several news stations already blaming the illness on the comet. The CDC’s hands are going to be tied if their entire research staff is sick with this thing, so we need to take the lead until I hear differently”
I rubbed my eyes with my thumb and forefinger trying to absorb this news. I had to call and check on my wife and son before I did anything else. If either one of them became ill I didn’t know if I would be able to stay. Thank God I was a civilian now and couldn’t be ordered to stay. Still, there was a chance I was exposed to the pathogen after coming into contact with Dr. Rafik. Hell, I didn’t even have a basic N95 mask on.
“We should have been suited up before interacting with any of the infected,” I reiterated, trying to let my anger quell my fear.
“I know, Steven, but its chaos everywhere. As I said, there wasn’t time to suit up. Usually we go to the diseases, they don’t come to us.” She shook her head knowingly. “I’m praying that whatever caused this we’ve already been exposed to and came out on the winning end. Nonetheless we will follow all protocols and precautions from this point forward. We’ll treat this as if we are entering a code black zone until we can determine differently.”
Code Black was our term for a viral hot spot that is highly infectious and lethal.
“And what if we are infected?” I asked.
“Then everyone is infected,” she stated bluntly.
I took a deep breath, letting my anger dissipate. She was correct. Events were moving too fast and what was done was done. We had to move forward and get a handle on the situation. I took solace in knowing that I never had direct contact with Dr. Rafik and he wasn’t sneezing or coughing, which could spread a potential pathogen in the droplets of fluid.
“So there are only two scientists and a tech to tackle this thing?”
She nodded, a pained look on her face. “We have to assume the staff that I couldn’t contact are ill. Doctor Rafik will be treated as a quarantined patient and hopefully will be able to contribute some of his own expertise to this puzzle.”
“What stages of the disease have presented themselves so far?”
“The prodromal seems to be indicative of a general feeling of malaise and a strong to severe headache in the temporal region. I guess we would classify the acute stage as starting with a fever that builds shortly after the headaches begin.”
She rubbed her face nervously then continued. “So far I haven’t heard any reports of any symptoms past the onset of fever. That seems to be where most of the patients are at this point. It’s not an incapacitating illness yet, however, there are some pretty sick people out there.”
I was absorbing every word like a sponge, feeling the dread continue to build like an icy ball in the pit of my stomach. The disease was demonstrating a classic systemic infection like so many other pathogenic viruses that I have dealt with.
“Do you have reason to expect that the symptoms will get worse?”
“No. I just have a feeling we haven’t seen the worst of this yet.”
“It’s strange. You say that the disease is at nearly the same stage everywhere that the reports are coming in from?”
“Yes, that’s why the hypothesis of the comet as a vector is logical.”
I then asked one of the questions I had been dreading to ask. “How about airborne transmissibility?”
“God I hope not,” she answered, shifting uneasily, “nevertheless, we have to consider that a distinct possibility from the way this has erupted overnight.” She stood up. “That is one of the big questions we need to answer: How is it possible to spread a disease nearly instantaneously across the planet?” She took one last look at the images being displayed on the TV screen and then turned it off with a remote.
She looked me hard in the eyes, the resolve back in her face. “We should get moving. I need you to do your damndest and fastest to isolate the pathogen that’s behind this. If people start dying we’re going to be in for a world of hurt.”
“A code black Level 4 infection?” I questioned, looking her hard in the eyes.
“Until we are certain that it’s not airborne and that the symptoms do not progress any further, I think that is our safest path.”
I got to my feet. “I need to drop a few things off in my office, then call and check on my family. Why don’t you get suited up and get our patients ready? I’ll get my lab set up to receive bio-samples.” I started to leave, then a thought occurred to me and I turned back to her. “Who’s getting the tech”
“We’ll have to share him. I’ve got a few more calls to make and I’ll be down.”
I hurried out of the room and across the hall to the elevators. I scanned my hand at the elevator entrance to the sublevels and typed in my passcode. The elevator door opened immediately, as if it had been waiting so it could take me to the labs buried deep below my feet.
My office and lab are in Level 6 of the complex. This is the deepest section of the Facility because of the nasty bugs we work with. Entry into Level 6 is restricted to those who work there and the administrators of the Facility. All of the labs are kept at a negative pressure compared to the ambient atmosphere. That way if there was ever an accident, things we don’t want leaving the labs would hopefully stay in the labs. The Facility was also designed so that nothing unwanted would get in unless intentionally brought in.
Once on Level 6 I walke
d through the small lounge outside the elevator foyer and then into the hallway that is lined with offices and storage rooms. At the end of the hallway is another passcoded door that leads to the beginning of the journey into the world of highly infectious diseases.
The lounge itself is a small, brightly lit, rectangular room that contains several easy chairs spread around a small table. It includes a couch, a couple of vending machines, a coffee pot, and a refrigerator with a big warning sign on it stating that it is to be used for food only (like any of us would ever think of storing Level 4 pathogens in there with our turkey sandwiches and yogurts). There is also a flat screen television mounted on the wall near the back corner. The next door down from the lounge is my office.
When I reached my office, I threw my briefcase on the desk and raced to the phone. My fingers had trouble hitting the correct keys to dial the numbers, due to my hand shaking with the fear of what I would hear when I connected. I kept telling myself that if they had been infected they would have been symptomatic before I left the house.
I was overwhelmed with relief when Holly’s voice filled the receiver of the phone and told me that she was still feeling fine, as was our son. She had been watching the news in disbelief and growing unrest. She seemed to have gleaned just as much information from the news channels as I had.
I unnecessarily told her to keep Jeremy home from school today, as if they would even be open, and to hunker down at the house and not to go outside or answer the door for anyone. We discussed what she should do if the hospital called her in, since she wasn’t on call today I recommended that she just ignore any of their calls for now. I knew in my heart that if the hospital called she would want to go in. She was stubborn and responsible that way. She was also going to try and get hold of our respective families and find out their status.