The Susquehanna Virus Box Set

by Steve McEllistrem

  “What about the police?” Warrow asked.

  “Police are a joke in most parts of the country,” Doug said. “They work for the wealthy. They got to. It’s a game of survival for them too. Mostly they look the other way while the rich do what they please. No, the police only got one real job anymore. Keep the druggies and the poor away from the rich. That’s how I ended up in prison.”

  “Sounds like you had it pretty good there,” Quekri said.

  “True,” Doug agreed. “Prison was the best thing that coulda happened to me. Since I was a nonviolent offender, they put me in a class-two prison instead of a maximum-security place. It was there that I found the ladder—and others who wanted more from life too. With less than a year left in my sentence, Devereaux contacted me. I don’t know if any of you’ve met him—I ain’t—but just talking with him over the vid, or hearin’ his voice in a comm letter, gave me such a lift that I knew I could accomplish anything.”

  Doug looked around at his audience. They were really listening now. Shull and Warrow had gone still. Dunadan kept his hand over Temala’s but his eyes on Doug’s face. And Temala continued to look at Doug with an intensity that made him nervous.

  “When he told me he was gonna be here,” Doug said, talking mostly to Quekri, “I had to join him. Couldn’t even finish out my sentence. I just came runnin’. He told me not to but I couldn’t wait no longer. I had to help him. And I been waitin’ to see him ever since. He’s contacted me on the vid or by comm letter but he ain’t never shown himself in person. Not yet, but soon. He will.”

  Doug nodded to emphasize the point and his audience nodded too, acknowledging his faith that Devereaux would someday appear.

  Zeriphi returned with a platter containing bread, cheese and some gray substance in a large bowl. Gelatinous and lumpy at the same time, it looked like oatmeal covered in mud. A small bowl of grapes and a glass of water rounded out the offering. Zeriphi placed the platter before him. Doug reached for the bread and cheese, ignoring the gray muck.

  Angling her eye at the lumpy concoction, Zeriphi said, “It’s good.”

  Doug shuddered, shook his head violently.

  “Don’t be a baby,” Zeriphi said.

  Doug blushed as he sniffed at the bowl tentatively. He detected a pleasant musky aroma. Still, he wrinkled his nose and began making a sandwich of cheese. Zeriphi grabbed his hand and stopped him. She then took a knife from the platter and spread a thick layer of the gray gunk on a slab of bread, covering it with cheese. She proffered the sandwich to Doug. “Try it,” she commanded.

  Doug grimaced as he looked at the sandwich. “I don’t think so.”

  “You’ll like it.” Zeriphi shoved the sandwich into Doug’s hand. When he looked at her, she pushed his hand toward his face, nodded in reassurance.

  He bit tentatively into the bread, hoping not to gag. But it was delicious, almost melting in his mouth. “Wow, this is fantastic.” Taking a huge bite, he chewed slowly, savoring the rich mushroom and bean flavor, commingled with onion, garlic and some spices he could not identify. He realized he was famished. As he ate the sandwich, a warmth slowly spread through him.

  “Thanks for makin’ me try it,” he said to Zeriphi. “I’ve never tasted anything like it. You’re a marvelous cook.” The Escala exchanged glances and smiles. Doug felt the need to explain his hesitation. “It just looked awful. Can I have another one?”

  Zeriphi moved her chair closer to Doug’s and prepared another sandwich for him. While he ate, she continued to stare at him and he found it increasingly difficult to turn his attention away from her: her blond hair, high cheekbones, rounded face and dark brown eyes, large and luminous. They pulled at him, drew him in until he saw nothing else. As they gazed at each other, he felt like he was under a spell, finally broken by Quekri’s voice:

  “Zeriphi will keep you company tonight.”

  Zeriphi nodded. “Eat,” she said as she lifted the remainder of the sandwich to his mouth.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After the jet-copters took off with the wounded, Jeremiah stood in the lobby, his back to the gaping hole that led to the outside. Through the wall-window of the infirmary, he watched Dr. Mary treat the soldiers with minor injuries. Lendra approached him quietly.

  “I found practically nothing on Dr. Mary McCaffery,” she whispered. “It’s like she just appeared out of nowhere a few years ago.”

  “That’s because she did,” Jeremiah answered.

  “I still don’t see how that can be Julianna.”

  Jeremiah shrugged. “It is. What about Cookie Monster? You got any more information about him or these Escala?”

  “Not specifically. I’m still working on that. They’re probably underground somewhere. I’ll keep looking for any records or historical documents that might show where they could be.”

  Jeremiah stared at Dr. Mary through the wall-window again, his body tensing.

  Lendra grabbed his arm. “I told Eli you believe the doctor is actually Julianna. He recommended that you kill her or stay away from her.”

  Jeremiah removed Lendra’s hand. “I’ve got to talk to her, find out what she’s doing here. You get your bag from the van before dark. I think we should spend the night. Have Sister Ezekiel show you to a room—one that locks. I have a feeling things are going to get ugly out there.”

  “Should I get your bag too?”

  “Don’t bother. I’m going out later. Just make sure you set the van’s security system.”

  Sister Ezekiel emerged from the dining area, Colonel Truman and Gray Weiss beside her. Together, they moved toward the infirmary, heads bent in discussion. Weiss said with a frown: “Devereaux’s deadly creations—these pseudos—seek to make humans obsolete. Consider the hubris of the man, creating a new species.” As Sister Ezekiel took off her glasses and began cleaning them on a handkerchief, Weiss pointed to them and added: “Your church recognizes the importance of staying true to your humanity and properly bans genetic manipulation.”

  “I sometimes wonder,” Sister Ezekiel replied. She put the glasses back on.

  Jeremiah shook his head. How did forcing someone to wear glasses or a hearing aid further the teachings of Christ?

  “And as for Devereaux,” Sister Ezekiel said, “Jesus commands us to love all God’s creatures.” She entered the infirmary ahead of Weiss. Truman halted for a moment at the door before following them inside.

  Lendra glanced around the room to make certain it was clear, then said, “What do you have in mind?”

  “A little reconnaissance.”

  Lendra frowned, pursed her lips together. “She’s capable of anything. She stabbed you, for God’s sake. You can’t possibly be considering—”

  “I need to find out what she knows.”

  “Wouldn’t it make more sense to look for Cookie Monster?”

  “That’s what I’ll be doing. Julianna’s very good at what she does. She might know something that’s not in the computer records.”

  “And you think she’ll just tell you?”

  “Perhaps. Besides, she’s a threat.”

  “Are you going to kill her?”

  “Not yet.”

  Lendra glared through the wall-window at Dr. Mary. “I think you want to see her because you have unfinished business with her.”

  “That too,” Jeremiah said. His eyes kept returning to Dr. Mary, who was now talking with Weiss and Colonel Truman.

  “Eli told me to remind you that she’s been charged with treason. The safest option may be to take her out.”

  “Eli always thought he’d make a good ghost,” Jeremiah answered.

  Lendra sighed. “I’ll be in the van, studying the Escala. I’ll be back before dark.”

  * * *

  “Excuse me, Doctor,” Jeremiah said as he stepped into the infirmary. “Could I trouble you to look at t
his arm?” He pulled back his sleeve to display the QuikHeal bandage. Dr. Mary, who had been talking in low tones to Sister Ezekiel, Weiss and Colonel Truman, looked at him in surprise.

  “How did you get that?” Weiss asked.

  “I cut myself shaving.”

  “Let me see that,” Dr. Mary said. She stepped closer and peeled the bandage back. “Not too bad, although it could use some cleaning. I’ve got some salve in my room. Why don’t we look at it there? This way, Jeremiah, is it?” Dr. Mary led him down a hallway to a small room at the back of the shelter, which had escaped damage during the fight. Gesturing for Jeremiah to precede her, she followed him inside and closed the door after herself. He noticed a small bed and nightstand on one wall, a desk on the other. Behind the desk, several shelves contained old hardcover books and various medical supplies. He moved toward a chair in front of the desk as she darkened the window to the outside and pressed a button next to the door three times in rapid succession. The light went on, then off, then on, an almost imperceptible hum emanating from speakers in the corners.

  Leaning back against the door, she said, “Privacy field. If you scream, no one will hear you.”

  “I wasn’t planning to make a lot of noise.”

  “It may become necessary. Why don’t you take off your shirt, Jeremiah?”

  “Why don’t you take off your disguise, Julianna?”

  She laughed. “I know you’re angry with me, darling. But I saved your life.”

  “Saved my life? You stabbed me. With a poisoned knife.”

  “Oh, please. It was only a paralyzing agent. I put it on the blade to keep you from killing me, which you’d have done if I hadn’t incapacitated you. Besides, I didn’t hit any vital organs. And I put a QuikHeal bandage on before I left. So you’re welcome.”

  “If you think I’m going to thank you for betraying me…”

  “Oh, grow up.” Julianna pushed herself away from the door and took a couple steps forward. Jeremiah backed up until his legs bumped the chair. He nearly fell into it. “Relax,” Julianna said. “If I’d wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.”

  Jeremiah opened his mouth to protest, but closed it almost immediately. Even though he couldn’t dispute the truth of her statement, he had no intention of relaxing. He’d often wondered why she hadn’t finished him off. Why would a proven killer like Julianna leave an enemy alive when she didn’t have to?

  She took another two steps, stopped directly in front of him and wrapped her arms around him. Then she kissed him.

  He kept his eyes open, untrusting, though hers were closed. An electric surge went through him, a tingle that shot from head to toe. He tasted her again. It had been a long time.

  “I should kill you,” he said when she released him.

  “Later,” she replied with a lecherous smile, leaning forward to kiss him again.

  Jeremiah shook his head, holding her away. Although he couldn’t discern anything out of the ordinary from the feel of her shoulders, he knew that Julianna was wearing a body suit as well as a mask. He touched her face with his fingers, pushed against the neo-skin.

  Pointing to the computer interface above her ear, he said, “When did you get this?”

  Julianna pulled the interface from her temple and held it up for him to see. “I had it installed last year.” Then she lifted her head slightly.

  Without saying a word, Jeremiah reached out for the mask. He slid his fingers under the neck of her sweater, found where the mask touched the body suit and peeled it away slowly, carefully lifting it over Julianna’s head, removing the attached wig at the same time, revealing at last the face he knew so well: the small thin nose, the clear bronze skin, the high cheekbones and full lips, the dancing eyes—brown now instead of the arctic blue he remembered. He studied them. He’d always found her eyes disconcerting. Lasers. Piercing him to the heart. Yet they themselves were impenetrable. Diamonds. Dazzling in their brightness, harder than stone. Now that they were no longer blue they seemed to have a liquid quality. Of all the weapons he’d encountered in his life, none had been as deadly as those eyes. Still, when she looked at him now, he wanted to touch her, hold her. How many times had he told himself never to trust those eyes?

  She took the mask from him and walked over to her nightstand. Setting the mask and interface down, she loosened her blond hair, letting it fall to her shoulders. When she turned back to him, he looked down at her pudgy body and grinned, recalling her slim and athletic figure. “You always did like body suits,” he said.

  “And you always loved your magic camos.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Same as you. Looking for Devereaux.”

  “For the bounty?”

  Julianna shook her head. “I’ve got other reasons. Who’s the little honey you brought with you?”

  “Lendra? Eli’s assistant. Thinks she’s going to be running CINTEP one day.”

  “She’s a cutie.”

  “She’s very smart. Probably dangerous.”

  Julianna lifted an eyebrow. “Homicidal?”

  “If she comes after you, it won’t be a direct attack.”

  “I’ve always had good peripheral vision.” Julianna looked away from Jeremiah, then reached out to the side and touched his chin. “That’s your nose, right?”

  Jeremiah laughed as he shook his head. “Just be careful around her.”

  “She’s definitely infatuated with you.”

  “Lendra? She’s just following Eli’s orders.”

  “Maybe at first,” Julianna said. “But I noticed the way she looks at you. Intense. Who can blame her?”

  “I’m not interested in Lendra.”

  Julianna smiled. “Or me, apparently.”

  “My wife died four months ago.”

  Julianna nodded. “I heard about that. Catherine was never right for you—she was weak.”

  “She was sane.”

  Julianna chuckled softly.

  “Tell me something,” Jeremiah said, “for old time’s sake. Do you know anything about what happened to my son? He was taken shortly after you stabbed me.”

  Julianna shook her head. “I heard about that too. Sorry, Jeremiah. It wasn’t me. If it had been, I’d have made sure you knew it.”

  Jeremiah sighed. “That’s what I figured.”

  “Believe it or not, Jeremiah, I wasn’t out to get you. You were simply in the way.”

  “That makes me feel much better. Now, you want to tell me why I shouldn’t have Weiss arrest you?”

  “Because if we work together, we can find Devereaux before Weiss does.”

  “Who hired you to find him?”

  “Nobody,” Julianna said. “I’m here for personal reasons—for atonement.”

  Jeremiah snorted. “What, you’re a Devereauxnian?”

  “Actually, I am.”

  Jeremiah studied her brown eyes, as if he might find truth there. He said, “Nice try. You almost had me there.”

  “I’m serious, Jeremiah.”

  “Suddenly you’ve found enlightenment? I don’t think so. You’re just like me. A professional killer. Dress it up any way you want but that’s what we are. Killers. We’re the monsters Devereaux preaches against. We represent humanity’s violent past. We don’t find redemption in some feel-good credo.”

  “You don’t think we can be saved?”

  “I don’t want to be saved. I am who I am.”

  “You haven’t been the same since your son was taken.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Devereaux can bring you peace.”

  Jeremiah shook his head. He couldn’t talk about this now: not with her, not with anyone. He needed to think.

  Julianna reached behind her, grabbed a small glass jar from a shelf, and gestured toward the bed. “I’ve got some salve that’ll ta
ke care of your arm.”

  “When did you become a doctor?”

  “I didn’t. I had the basic medical course at CINTEP and that interface tells me everything I need to know.”

  “You always were a quick study. That damned eidetic memory.”

  “Did you know Eli tried to keep that a secret from you?”

  “Why would he do that?”

  Julianna shrugged. “There are lots of things he doesn’t want you to know.”

  Jeremiah sat. He couldn’t argue the point. Eli’s mania for secrecy had plagued Jeremiah for years. While Julianna took a seat next to him, reached for his hand and gently applied a cool salve to his wound, Jeremiah studied her. He wondered what was really going on in her mind. She always seemed to be playing psychological games with him. Was she really a Devereauxnian? And did she really think she could drive a wedge between he and Eli?

  “Why did you do it?” he asked suddenly.

  “Betray you?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Very simple, darling. Money. Power. Freedom. It’s not as if there are good guys and bad guys in our world. We’re all the same. You choose to play for one side. But you could earn far more as a freelancer.”

  “How does that reconcile with Devereauxnianism?”

  Julianna released his hand. “It doesn’t. I’m out of that business now.”

  “What happened to your eyes?” Jeremiah asked. “I miss the blue.”

  “Couldn’t be helped. Surgically implanted contacts.”