The Susquehanna Virus Box Set

by Steve McEllistrem

  He also examined the summary file on the Susquehanna Virus. CINTEP’s analysts suspected that Susquehanna Sally had in fact released the virus as an act of terrorism, though she’d disappeared after claiming responsibility and had seldom been heard from since—only a few posts ranting about environmental issues. The virus itself hid in the immune system, mutating in each new host, then launching an attack on the heart and brain, often shutting the body down in a matter of hours. Only 33 of the 427 people infected in that first wave had survived. Now the greatest risk of infection came from mosquitoes and fleas.

  Returning to the image of the area, Jeremiah saw that there were literally hundreds of spots where the Escala could be hiding. He would need a scanner to try to locate them electronically. Might they hide in the ruins of the development? No way to know. Jeremiah grabbed his best scanner and activated it briefly, checking for unusual bio-sign readings. Nothing yet.

  When he got back to the shelter, Weiss was holding forth before a dozen reporters, a large contingent of Colonel Truman’s soldiers, Sister Ezekiel, Lendra, Ahmad Rashidi and a handful of homeless men. The one called Rock Man stood near the front, apparently reading Weiss’ lips. And Julianna, trapped within her Dr. Mary disguise, stood at the door to the infirmary. He could have sworn she winked at him as he made his way across the lobby. He nearly smiled, finding it reassuring in a way to have Julianna covering his back again, even if he couldn’t fully trust her.

  Weiss looked smug as he bathed in the glow of the reporters’ questions, aiming his comments at their digital vids. Jeremiah wondered if Weiss had pegged the kid with the orange Afro as a reporter. The kid stood off to the side, looking like a homeless man, asking no questions.

  “This country is falling apart,” Weiss said. “We have a big problem and it’s only getting worse. Civil disorder is at an all-time high. Terrorists have stolen our country from us. We’re locked into battles of their choosing and we can’t win if we engage them on their terms. We must all work together to fight for freedom. And we must be willing to sacrifice a little—just a little—for the sake of our great country.”

  Jeremiah saw Lendra eyeing him as he circled the crowd but he continued to move toward Julianna.

  “Our government,” Weiss threw his arms out wide, “refuses to do what needs to be done. It has decided that there will be no money for anything but essentials. And the list of essentials keeps shrinking. Health care? On life support. Education? Failing. Environment? A wasteland. Transportation? It’s reached a dead end. Defense is the only essential left.”

  Jeremiah stopped making his way around the room and looked at Weiss, who was reveling in his wordplay. Shaking his head, Jeremiah continued on, edging around the albino Henry.

  “What we need is a change. We need a government that doesn’t have to answer to every special interest group. We need a leadership that is no longer hostage to the demands of the few. The politics of elitism must be eliminated, and the current electoral process cannot accomplish that task. Uninformed voters cannot be allowed to determine the fate of our nation. And as long as special interest groups rule the electoral process, they will create uninformed voters by fabricating reality for voters to latch on to as truth.”

  A reporter asked, “What are you proposing?”

  “We have to change the way we think about government,” Weiss answered. “To preserve our way of life, we need to change democracy fundamentally. To crush the terroristic forces of anarchy that threaten the very foundations of what we are, we need to adapt the institutions that keep the darkness at bay.

  “There’s a beautiful statue just a few blocks away called, ‘Emerging Man.’ It used to draw thousands of visitors a year. Now? Well, now it’s probably a few hundred. And those who dare visit put their lives at risk. Like the children today who were caught in the crossfire—two of them badly injured. Only by the grace of God did they survive. How do we create a better future for our children and grandchildren? By making our streets safer. And that means—contrary to what Devereaux would have us believe—that individual rights must sometimes be sublimated to the greater good. Hope cannot be allowed to vanish from the face of the earth.”

  When Jeremiah reached Julianna, she turned her head and blew into his ear. Jeremiah stepped back a few feet as Julianna laughed softly. Lendra, her eyes narrowing, watched them intently.

  “The President,” Weiss said, “for all her good intentions, for all her valiant efforts to stave off economic collapse and civil unrest, has been ineffective. Our enemies have grown stronger during her tenure. The solution, the only solution, is sweeping change. A change not of degree but of kind. A government of strength—unassailable, yet flexible and benevolent.

  “Are you advocating the elimination of free elections?” another reporter asked.

  “I’m proposing,” Weiss said with a smile, “a strong central government with the means and flexibility to respond with force against those who seek to make us live in fear.”

  Many in the room applauded, including two conservative commentators masquerading as reporters. Not Sister Ezekiel though, nor Ahmad Rashidi. Rock Man stared at Weiss, his mouth open.

  “Can you believe this guy?” Julianna said. “What a clown.”

  “He has the gift,” Jeremiah said. “He’s very charismatic.”

  “Don’t tell me you agree with him?”

  “No, I’m merely stating a truth.”

  As Weiss moved past Rock Man and began shaking hands, Lendra approached Jeremiah, her eyes darting to Julianna every few seconds. When she reached them, she said, “What was that all about?”

  “I don’t know,” Jeremiah answered. “I missed the beginning. What did he say before I got here?”

  “The reporters wanted to know if the rumors about Walt Devereaux being here were true. Weiss refused to answer their questions. Said he couldn’t talk about it. But he said if Devereaux is here, then anyone with knowledge of his whereabouts has an obligation to turn him in. He reminded us that Devereaux continues to incite his followers to evolve, to move beyond the old definition of what it means to be human. Then he launched into his tirade about changing the government. That’s when you walked in.”

  “So in political-speak,” Jeremiah said, “he’s acknowledging that Devereaux is here by refusing to deny it. But why?”

  “It creates chaos,” Lendra said.

  “Exactly,” Julianna said. “By implying that Devereaux is here, he hopes to instigate the very anarchy he’s railing against.”

  “Right,” Lendra agreed. “And by talking about the president’s ineffectiveness, he guarantees she’ll send troops out here to keep the peace—probably Elite Ops. He scares the hell out of me. A strong central government? That sounds like a dictatorship.”

  “With him at the helm,” Jeremiah agreed.

  “Well,” Julianna said, “all we have to worry about at the moment is making certain he doesn’t find Devereaux.”

  Lendra looked from Julianna to Jeremiah and back. She leaned forward, searching the Dr. Mary mask and said, “You’re her, aren’t you? You’re Julianna.”

  “Did Jeremiah tell you I’m the big bad wolf?” Julianna said. She curled her hands into claws and playfully swiped at Lendra’s face. Lendra backed up a step.

  Lendra turned to Jeremiah, a wrinkle of distaste in her expression. “She’ll betray you again, you know.”

  Julianna laughed.

  “Let me worry about Julianna,” Jeremiah said.

  “What are you going to do next?” Lendra asked.

  “I have to find the Escala who attacked the shelter today. A group like that—eight or maybe ten people—I might be able to pick them up with my scanner. Off to the east somewhere in that forested area.”

  “That’s where they’ll be, all right,” Julianna said. “Rumors have been flying for months about strange creatures inhabiting the area. I haven’t ha
d any backup or I’d have checked them out earlier.”

  “I’m going out alone,” Jeremiah said.

  “Oh, no, you don’t. You need me.”

  “What for?”

  “If they’ve got scatterers, you’ll need to be able to triangulate their position to have any chance of finding them. You can’t do that alone. Besides, you could use a doctor, just in case.”

  “You’re not a doctor.”

  “I’m the closest thing you’ve got. And I can cover your back. Who else can you trust?”

  “Me,” Lendra said. “I’m going with you.”

  “No, absolutely not,” Jeremiah said. “You’re no field agent. Remember that little incident with Raddock Boyd?” Jeremiah glanced at Julianna as he spoke, looking for any reaction. She offered none. “Also, I need you to run one of those complicated CINTEP programs through the surveillance vid for the shelter. Compare everybody who’s been in or out the past few weeks with prior footage of Devereaux. I’m sure Weiss has done the same but the CINTEP program might be better than his. Despite the fact that Devereaux’s obviously changed his appearance and perhaps had genetic surgery, you might be able to identify him. And call Eli, fill him in on what’s happened, see if he has any bright ideas about how to proceed.”

  “I’ll meet you out back in thirty minutes,” Julianna said. “I need to put Dr. Mary to bed—her cold and lonely bed.” She put her palm on Lendra’s cheek. “Care to assist me in removing my disguise?”

  Lendra backed away. Jeremiah could see her fighting the urge to say something. He admired her restraint. She merely held up her hand in dismissal. But as Julianna smiled and sauntered off, Lendra grabbed Jeremiah’s arm and whispered fiercely, “What are you doing?”

  “It’s getting too complicated,” Jeremiah said. “Too many players. I figure a temporary alliance is our best chance to get Devereaux.”

  “You trust her?”

  “Absolutely. I trust her to betray me once we’ve got Devereaux. But until then, she’ll use me, just like I’ll use her.”

  “Eli won’t approve.”

  “You tell him that if he comes up with a better solution, I’ll be happy to go about it some other way.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Leaning against her office doorway, her eyes fluttering with fatigue, Sister Ezekiel watched Dr. Mary walk back to her room. Jeremiah and Lendra, with whom the doctor had recently been conversing, disappeared down the hallway toward the guest room Sister Ezekiel had provided. Why did Dr. Mary suddenly seem to have a bounce to her step? Had she decided to ally herself with Jeremiah? Did she know where Devereaux was? Sister Ezekiel found everything so confusing. Yawning, she turned her attention back to Ahmad Rashidi, in the middle of an update on the shelter’s legal status.

  “You’re poor, Sister,” Ahmad said. “You can’t afford a good attorney. You can’t even afford me.” A big belly laugh erupted out of him. But he cut it off when she didn’t join in. “I don’t mind doing a little pro bono work for you because it’s always interesting and I figure I can use all the help I can get with the big fella upstairs. If Catholicism turns out to be correct, maybe I can get some bonus points for the legal assistance I provide.” Ahmad looked at Sister Ezekiel expectantly. She smiled to show she was listening. “But I can’t fight the power of the Attorney General. Sooner or later he’s gonna get another scanner in here. And the more immediate problem is that with his little confab tonight before the media, we’re gonna have a lot of people makin’ their way here over the next few days, lookin’ for Devereaux. You sure you haven’t seen him?”

  “If I have, Ahmad, he certainly hasn’t made himself known to me.”

  “Well, Sister, if he does show himself to you, you should let me know immediately—if not sooner.

  “Sooner than immediately?”

  Ahmad chuckled. “Absolutely.”

  Sister Ezekiel shook her head. “You’re such a clown.”

  “Yes, Sister. But let me know. We’ll have to move very quickly.”

  “What do you plan to do?”

  “Let me worry about that, Sister. Meanwhile, if you don’t wanna close up shop, you’re gonna hafta borrow from the foundation’s endowment to fix this place up. Your operating expenses aren’t gonna be sufficient. And I can pretty much guarantee the Army ain’t gonna pay for all this damage.”

  From out in the lobby came a scuffling noise.

  “Step back,” a soldier ordered loudly. “Now!”

  Through the wall-window, Sister Ezekiel saw Rock Man, his hands in the air. He backed slowly away from the soldier, who wielded a stun club. Behind the soldier, Weiss and the colonel stood near two of the reporters. They looked up in surprise.

  Sister Ezekiel ran out of her office. “You!” she yelled at the soldier. “Leave him be.”

  “What’s going on?” Weiss demanded.

  “He was moving in too close, sir,” the soldier said.

  “He’s a deaf-mute,” Sister Ezekiel said as she signed to Rock Man, telling him to stand back from Weiss. “The Good Lord knows he doesn’t mean you any harm.”

  “I’m sorry,” Weiss said to Rock Man. He pointed to the soldier. “They can be a little overprotective.”

  “I think he’s just fascinated by the cameras,” Sister Ezekiel said. She signed to Rock Man: “Let’s get you to bed for the night.”

  Rock Man allowed himself to be led away, leaning on her heavily as she walked him down the hall. Somehow that dependence gave her strength. She’d never appreciated before just how ancient and frail he was. As they neared the dormitory area, Rock Man stopped. He turned to look at her, raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

  “It’s okay,” Sister Ezekiel signed as she spoke. “Cookie Monster’s going to be okay. I’m sure of it.”

  Rock Man nodded, then stepped to the door of Doug’s room. He grabbed the doorknob and let himself in, turning on the light as he did so. He knew he didn’t belong here. What was he doing? Sister Ezekiel followed him inside, found him sitting on the bed, old and beaten. Before she said a word, he straightened his back, his eyes shining with intensity and intelligence, then gestured to the room’s sole chair and spoke in a vaguely familiar voice, refined and crisp:

  “Please close the door and sit.”

  Stunned, Sister Ezekiel closed the door, a strange feeling running through her. She sensed something momentous, something beyond the fact that Rock Man could speak. She shivered, though the room was quite warm. Taking a seat, she stared at him, feeling embarrassed and a little angry. How had he fooled her for so long? And why?

  Rock Man reached for her hand, wrapping his leathery hands around her rigid fingers. “I’m sorry, Sister,” he said. “I never meant for this to happen.”

  Truth struck her an almost physical blow. She pulled her hands away.

  “You’re Walt Devereaux!”

  He nodded approvingly. “I always knew you were smart, Sister.”

  “But how…what are you doing here?”

  He shrugged. “I almost turned myself in down there. But I’m afraid.”

  Sister Ezekiel examined Devereaux’s face, as if for the first time. Wrinkled and dirty, with a scraggly gray beard, it looked nothing like the face of Walt Devereaux. The cragginess of his leathery skin bespoke years in the sun and his complexion looked unhealthy. His cheekbones were higher than she remembered, his lips thicker, his skin darker. And his nose, now large and bulbous, was covered with the numerous capillaries of a long-time drinker. The hale scientist she recalled from TV had vanished into this fragile frame. But his eyes, which moments before had seemed unfocused and pale—the eyes of a man who had never tasted success—now held the magnetic charisma of the born leader Devereaux had once been, even though they were of the wrong color.

  “If you’re innocent,” Sister Ezekiel said, “you have nothing to fear.”

 
Devereaux smiled. “Oh, I’m not so concerned for myself, though there is that too. I’m more concerned with humanity. You see, my people believe that if I’m captured, the government will forcibly extract from my brain all my knowledge, all my secrets.”

  “Torture you?”

  He shook his head. “There are newer, more effective methods of mining the brain. And I’ve learned things I don’t want humanity to know.”

  “The bioweapons you designed?”

  Devereaux nodded. “I didn’t set out to create them. I was researching medical treatments, studying genomic sequences, when the ideas occurred to me. They just hit me one night while I was sleeping. Woke me up. These viruses wouldn’t be that difficult to make. And they could wipe out humanity. I never should have told President Davis that I’d conceived of them.”

  “So why didn’t you run?”

  “I thought about that. The Escala could smuggle me out despite the roadblocks Weiss has put up. In fact, they were rather insistent that I go. But many of them would be trapped here. It’s only a matter of time before the government loses patience and calls in the Elite Ops to wipe them out. I can’t leave them.”

  “Aren’t you being a little paranoid?”

  “If you knew what I know, Sister, you’d realize that our government is capable of terrible things.” He took a deep breath. “I think I have to give myself up and hope that my followers are wrong, that the government won’t extract my ideas without my permission. Some of our leaders are honorable.”

  Devereaux reached into a pocket and removed a plastic cashcard, which he placed in her hand. “Give this to your lawyer. Consider it a thank you for all your kindness. It’s prepaid to four million international bank standard and can’t be traced back to me.”

  “Four million? That’s far too generous.” Sister Ezekiel’s hand tightened over the card. “How much is that in dollars?”

  “I don’t know the latest exchange rate. If it’s not enough, I can get more later.”