“Daniel!” He heard Elise’s voice from inside, so he waved to the crowd and ducked back through the door. He hurried down the corridor to a startling sight.
Elise continued recording, of course, but now her camcorder was focused on a new person Daniel had never seen before. She was undoubtedly human, undoubtedly female, and bore a faint facial resemblance to the Ilona he had known, as well as having similar, but longer, hair.
There the similarity ended. This woman was tall, over six feet, and perfectly proportioned – and naked. Her skin color was a kind of golden bronze, a perfect blend of racial types; her features full, gorgeous, and completely human. Her eyes were filled with insouciant intelligence.
“Hello, Daniel John Markis. It is a pleasure beyond words to meet you in this form.”
Keeping his eyes on hers, he stepped forward to clasp hands. “Likewise. Do you feel up to meeting your adoring public?”
“I would like that very much. I know you are concerned with my nudity. Will this serve?” She reached toward a wall, opening a heretofore unseen compartment, drawing forth a swath of sparkling white material. She fastened it around herself like a toga, then performed a little twirl. “I always wanted to be tall.”
Daniel laughed. “That’s the Ilona I know.”
“Call us Raphaela. I’m still in here, Daniel, but so is Raphael. I’m still me, but I’m him – it – whatever – too. It’s wonderful! I know so much that I’ve always wanted to know – but I also have a million more questions than I had before. I know now that more knowledge just brings more questions.”
“I’m glad you’re happy. Let’s go wave at the world.”
They did that thing, standing at the top of the steps with the shining spaceship behind them, and the crowd roared to its feet. The applause and cheers went on and on, taking many minutes to die out.
-40-
They peered at the high-resolution screen, the two women with their team behind them.
Elise spoke first, tired but eager. “I think we have it. Now for testing on people. Normals, that is.”
The being – the woman - now calling herself Raphaela agreed. “Everything looks as if it will function within parameters. Properly formulated as a vaccine it protects almost one hundred percent. It should cure about eighty percent of recipients on the first dose.”
“Good enough for now. We’ll keep working on it, but I want this batch cultured as fast as possible, then tested. If it’s as good as we hope, we’ll distribute it to everyone – complete production information and samples.”
“Elise, you are exhausted. Let your staff handle this.” Raphaela looked warmly down upon the smaller woman.
“You look tired too. How about we both get some shuteye?”
Just a hundred yards away the nano team were slapping themselves on the back as they watched the multiple displays, showing replication charts, statistical analyses, electron micrographs and, most important of all, the patient.
Inside the isolation room Larry sat up on the hospital bed and shook himself. He reached for a glass of water, drinking it down then addressing the video teleconferencing equipment on the wall. “Hey, guys. I’m feeling fine, now. There was a little fever and nausea, but it’s all passed. Someone want to come in and draw blood?”
A technician folded himself into the tube-suit, and arrangement that allowed those outside to interact with those inside without a cumbersome decontamination procedure. He drew three opaque vials from Larry’s hep-lock, putting them in the wall-shuttle drawer for retrieval outside.
One long hour later the results came back – everything normal. The nanites worked, defending an exposed Eden against the Demon Plague without major side effects. Tiny Fortress had come through.
Larry sat alone, thinking. So why don’t I trust it? Too good to be true?
-41-
Chairman Markis addressed the open Council meeting, now a de-facto worldwide forum, building on the success of the first one. Everyone was willing to tolerate Markis as arbiter of procedures and protocol – or, unknowingly, his virtual interactive clone. If any of the more tech-savvy nations knew, they did not say anything.
“As you all know by now, the Free Communities biolab here in South Africa has achieved a breakthrough, with Raphaela’s help. Without her, this might not have been possible.” Technically true, through a stretch. Elise’s team would have come up with a cure, though the Blend did help. Still, best to play up her assistance.
“The files available worldwide, combined with the samples we have distributed, will allow anyone with basic biotechnology, any well-equipped university for example, to manufacture the vaccine. The reason I am talking to all of you now is to discuss the resistance we are seeing to the vaccine, and to address any concerns you may have.”
Markis touched the icon for the Russians. Might as well get the worst over first, and say most of what must be said up front.
The new, somewhat more reasonable Prime Minister spoke in a heavy accent, reading off a paper. “The Russian Federation appreciates the distribution of biological research, but will make its own judgment about the quality of any vaccine. We shall test and prove all materials before using them on any of our own citizens. Citizen safety is our highest priority.”
Markis took the floor. “Thank you, Mister Prime Minister. The second alien attack will arrive sometime within the next two weeks – in exactly nine days if Raphaela is correct. Our calculations show that you will need most of that time to produce enough vaccine to cure or protect your citizens. Can you assure us that you can do this?”
The Prime Minister looked to the side, then spoke in Russian. The voice of a translator came slightly delayed. “Russian’s citizens are its own responsibility. We will not distribute an untested drug. This is an internal matter, and we will not be bullied by any external entity.”
Dear God, there go fifty million Russians. No point in arguing with him, he’ll just get more stubborn. Markis replied, “Thank you, Mister Prime Minister. I would like to remind everyone that the Free Communities will provide no-cost inoculations at any hospital or clinic to any person regardless of nationality or status. We are doing everything we can to get stocks of the vaccine out to target populations. We have very few non-Edens of our own, so the key is to get it out to you, the rest of the world, where it can do the most good. Thank you to all the Neutral States, who are working closely with the Free Communities Health Cooperative.”
Markis pressed the icon for the USA, expecting what came next. President McKenna said, “The United States of America thanks the Free Communities for their generous assistance and will implement vaccination programs immediately. We expect to have ninety percent of our citizens vaccinated within the next nine days. We also have achieved a breakthrough of our own, a vaccine that protects Eden Plague carriers against Demon Plague Number One. We have begun distributing this vaccine among our own citizens, but it is limited and difficult to produce.”
To Markis, McKenna looked relaxed, not at all the fearful man he had observed at their meeting. He wondered whether he had misjudged the situation. He tapped the key that seamlessly loaded his virtual clone while turning off the sound and video feeds and said, “Rick, is there any chance this McKenna is also a virtual clone? Is there any way for you or your technicians to tell?”
“We’ll check on it, sir, but it will take several hours of recording analysis, so I can’t tell you now.”
Markis nodded, turning his clone back off and listening again.
McKenna went on, “We have also supplied samples of this vaccine to the Free Communities and the Neutral States for their use, and we sincerely hope they can produce enough for all their citizens in time.”
Nicely stabbed, sir. Sow some discord, get the citizenry wondering how the FC and Neutral States leadership will distribute a limited amount of Eden nanotech vaccine. I hate politics.
Six hours later Markis paced in his office. “So it was a virtual clone of McKenna? How would they have respon
ded if someone asked questions?”
Rick answered, “It could have been an overlay program – changing the virtual appearance of a real speaker into McKenna’s clone.”
Markis responded, “And even though it’s easy enough to detect in retrospect, we can’t antagonize the Americans by blowing their cover, not when they have the nanobots. But it means that McKenna is out of the loop. He might not even really be in power – he could be just a figurehead.”
Cassandra spoke up from her chair. “But it’s an advantage that they don’t know we know.”
Markis massaged his temples theatrically. “Makes my head ache, what we know they know we know. Who do you think’s the real power?”
“General Tyler?” Cassandra suggested.
“Maybe. Didn’t seem the type, though. Get working on it, Cassie. See if you can get through to our people inside. If there is someone pulling political strings in Pueblo, it will be connected to Tiny Fortress somehow.”
-42-
Skull stared at Commander Forman from across the table. “How’s that mystery meat, ma’am?”
“No better and no worse than Navy chow. What can I do for you, Warrant Officer Denham?” She took a bite of the putative object of his inquiry.
“Call me Skull if you like, ma’am. Wondering how you feel about the program.”
Forman stared at his shaved head above those deep, dark orbits. “I heard them call you that. It fits your look. But I’ve been debriefed by the psychiatrists twice already this week, and I’m getting a bit tired of it. I’m beginning to think that’s the only reason they wanted me here, to see how an Eden would react to the concept of nanobots and all they can do.”
“I bet you’re right. Oh, not the only reason, but one of them. But the Demon Plague One vaccine worked on you; how do you feel about that?”
“Stop it, Skull,” she snapped. “What do you really want?”
He looked down at his iced tea, swirling it around in his glass for a moment before lifting his eyes back to hers. “I’m not sure. I can’t figure out why they let someone who helped Edens escape get so close to a project like this.”
She sat back, aghast. “There are none so blind as those who will not see. Listen to yourself – I could ask you the exact same question. As I understand it, we both fought the Unionists in our own way. I am not questioning your loyalty; do me the courtesy of the same.”
His mouth twitched upward. “Fair enough. We both fought the fascists before, so we were on the same side...and maybe we still are. I just wanted to make sure you knew it too. Ma’am.” With that he got up and walked casually away.
She stared after him, nonplussed. He led me by the nose into that little quip. But why? What other side is there?
-43-
The ten men lay strapped to hospital beds in the large surgical theatre. Arranged in a circle with their feet together in the middle, medical technicians hooked up IV bags to the hep-locks already inserted in their veins. Others stood by with an array of drugs and machinery, all aimed at keeping them alive in the face of any reaction.
Above them an array of cameras and sensors recorded every move, and many of the project heads sat in the balcony. General Tyler stood, looking down through the glass at the test being readied.
“I still think we should slow this down, test one by one,” grumped Carlos “Chico” Fernandez, Tyler’s chief of administration.
“We don’t have time. Demon Plague Two falls in one week and we can’t be sure what it will do. The test subjects have been given Markis’ vaccine and are healthy. Now we need to know how the bots will react.”
“But you’ve added the self-replicating feature this time. You won’t be able to filter them out.”
“Of course we will, we just turn them off to stop them replicating. Don’t you read your own staff’s reports?”
The little man slumped. “Sorry, General, I’m so damned tired anymore. I wish I had your permission to take the Eden Plague.”
General Tyler looked at the man – really looked, this time, and saw what he hadn’t wanted to see before. Fernandez was on the edge of cracking from the pressure, and he was almost sixty. He made a decision quickly, as he always did. “Have it done. Right away. We need you too much to risk your health.”
Fernandez looked up at the General in gratitude. “Oh, thank you, sir.” He brightened up immediately.
That’s the problem with the damned Eden Plague, it’s so attractive. Immortality. I’ve been tempted myself. The nanobots have to work, or we’re all going to end up helpless pacifists in the face of these murderous aliens.
The two looked down at the ten men, now ready to go. Tyler reached for the microphone. “All right, start the test.”
Ten technicians stepped forward, injecting liquid from ten syringes into the Y-set of each man’s IV line. The liquid mingled with the IV drip, carrying the self-replicating nanobots into each man’s body.
Skull stared up at the glass, meeting General Tyler’s eyes. He raised his eyebrows in bravado.
Tyler nodded back, unsmiling.
Skull felt a familiar burning sensation, faint but annoying. This was the fifth time he had been injected with nanobots of some kind. Each type before had been just a light dose of non-replicating machines, doomed to mayfly lives, performing specific experimental tasks. This was a test of the Full Monty, the prototype self-replicating wide-spectrum physical booster: the real Tiny Fortress.
The sensation grew, and soon he itched all over from the inside, a horrible feeling. He reported this to his assigned tech, who added in a drug cocktail to combat the sensation. It receded, replaced with a floating feeling. Must have added in some Versed or something.
The itching finally went away, to be replaced by warmth and well-being. The nanobots weren’t supposed to make it across the blood-brain barrier but something was feeling good. He was just trying to figure out what it was when he heard a hoarse scream. It sounded like McCarthy.
From above, the supervisors saw medics converge on one of the subjects, who thrashed in his restraints. They jammed needles into his flesh and into the Y-set in vain, as he broke one arm loose and pummeled the nearest tech with his fist. The woman dropped to the ground as if poleaxed.
The technicians pulled back, hoping the drugs would work in time, and two strapping MPs tried to get the man’s arm back in the padded cuff. Two snapping motions of that arm later the men lay broken on the floor, and the test subject freed his other arm by the simple expedient of ripping the nylon strap in half.
Those straps are thousand-pound test, Tyler thought. He grabbed the microphone. “Shut him down!”
One of the controllers slammed his hand onto a large button and a visible flash of electricity surged through the man’s metal-framed hospital bed. This only served to enrage him, as he tore his legs loose and lunged for the nearest door.
“Protocol Zulu, now!” yelled Tyler over the PA.
As soon as the escapee ripped open the door, several shots rang out. The man staggered forward into a storm of gunfire from the military police. He reached out to one of them, grasping the guard’s arm. The MP screamed as his tibia and fibula snapped under the pressure of the maniac’s grip. Another MP put his pistol against the attacker’s head and ended it with a sickening blast of brains.
“Jesus,” muttered Tyler as Fernandez vomited onto the floor beside him.
“Dad, did you see that?” JT stepped up beside his father, excited. “Did you see how much it took to put him down?”
“Son, we just lost a good man because we’re in a hurry. I can accept the casualty, but have some respect.”
JT eyed his shiny boots. “Sure, dad,” he whispered, barely containing himself. “I’m sorry, but if all the rest are okay, and they are all like that…”
“I get it. We may just have our super-soldier.”
Below, Skull held himself in check through the chaos. Once it was calm, he cleared his throat. “Uh, hey, you. Med-tech. I think I got hit.”
The technicians gathered and stared at the torn flesh. “What’s it doing?” There came a faint thud, then a rattle as something fell from the bed. “Expelling the bullet, looks like,” one said.
“Let me see,” Skull ground out. “It’s all right, I’m in control of myself.”
The technician looked up at Tyler, who nodded. He loosed Skull’s head restraint first, then his arms.
Skull sat up, probing at his own leg. “It’s healing up fast. Just like the Eden Plague. And I feel fantastic. Do I look any different?”
The technicians shook their heads, backing out of arm’s reach.
“Calm down, people. I’m fine. What about the rest? And who was that?”
“It was McCarthy, sir. He’s dead.”
The other subjects started speaking, asking to be let go as well. Tyler gave the thumbs-up and soon nine men in hospital scrubs stood around, slapping each other’s backs, doing one-armed pushups and handstands, looking like a bunch of steroid-pumped circus acrobats.
“All right, Fortress team, calm down and let the techs process you. Then we’ll see what you can do.”
***
The forensics team leader turned his tablet around and around in his hands. “Sir, I have the results of the analysis of the one who, uh, didn’t work. McCarthy.”
“Yes?” Captain JT Tyler sat straighter up behind his desk. “Let’s have it.”
The Demon Plagues Page 25