The Susquehanna Virus Box Set

by Steve McEllistrem

  “What do you mean? They kicked me out. They towed me over here to get rid of me. A few of them, maybe all of them, want to kill me.”

  “Well, one of them does for certain.”

  “Wilcox,” Doug said.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Dr. Wellon said. “The results of my tests are now complete and although you were the first person to be infected with the virus, you were not infected on Earth.”

  “I don’t understand. I somehow contracted the virus on the way to Mars?”

  “Yes. And then you infected the miners.”

  “But how could that be? If I didn’t have it on Earth, how could I have gotten it on the ship?”

  “It isn’t possible . . . unless someone deliberately infected you.”

  Doug realized his jaw had dropped. He closed his mouth and swallowed. “Who would have wanted to do that? They didn’t know me. Why would someone target me?”

  “I don’t think you were the target. I believe you were the weapon.”

  “You mean, I was supposed to infect the Escala?”

  Dr. Wellon nodded. “This is a new variant of the SV17 virus. It’s a tricky little devil, transmissible to animals as well as humans. The goal, as near as I can tell, was for you to arrive on Mars asymptomatic, live with us and infect the colony so that we all caught the disease.”

  “But none of you caught it, right? You said Celestia didn’t have it and I had more contact with her than with anyone.”

  Dr. Wellon caught his eye for a second before looking away. “I’m sorry, Doug. I truly am. But I was wrong. Celestia has contracted the virus.”

  “What?” Doug leapt to his feet, forgetting about the lower gravity. His head slammed against the roof of the pod. He yelped as stars swam in his vision. Dr. Wellon, reaching over and catching him, guided him back to the bed. Sitting him down, she remained standing over him, a giantess with tears in her eyes.

  Doug’s throat and chest tightened as if he were in the grip of a boa constrictor.

  “As I said,” Dr. Wellon continued, “it’s a tricky little devil. I didn’t catch it when I ran the first few tests, but Keelar conducted a more sophisticated one. Celestia has the virus.”

  “How is she?”

  “She’s fine for the moment. Asymptomatic. But we have quarantined her and Zeriphi as well as Paddon and Zander. The family wished to stay together.”

  Doug felt rage building inside him, an urge to violence that caused him to start shaking. He also felt a spasm of relief. Yes, he’d infected his daughter, but it hadn’t been his fault. One of the MineStar miners had done it, so Doug was going to make sure one of them would die. “Who was it? Who infected me?”

  “I’m afraid we don’t know the answer to that yet.”

  “How do we find out?”

  “That’s where you come in,” Dr. Wellon said. “I want you to return to the MineStar colony and try to get to the bottom of this.”

  “How? They won’t let me near them.”

  “They will once I explain what happened, once they know that one of their own is a vicious terrorist and a potential murderer.”

  “Can’t you just use truth drugs on them to find out who it was?”

  “I could try, but I don’t think that’s smart.”

  “Why not?”

  “First, I don’t have the authority. They are not subject to our command. Second, whoever planned this took great care to do it right. I imagine he’s got some sort of methodology to prevent a truth serum from working. I examined everyone’s blood samples and found nothing there, so more than likely he has a hypo-pad or delayed release capsule or some kind of system in place to defeat the truth drugs. If we try to administer something to the miners, he’ll likely take the antidote.”

  “Then you can test everyone again and see whose system has the antidote in it.”

  Dr. Wellon nodded. “True, if they let me test them at all. But my fear is that he may be a dupe for someone else and the ‘antidote’ might actually be a suicide capsule. If we give them the truth serum, he may take it and die.”

  “Good.”

  “And we’ll learn nothing. We won’t know who’s behind it, or if other attempts will be made, and we won’t know why, though the motive is likely pure hatred of pseudos.” Dr. Wellon spat out the word, the derogatory term some on Earth used for the Escala. “We could, of course, refuse to interact with humans from Earth to protect ourselves but we would prefer to discover the truth.”

  “It must be Wilcox,” Doug said, “and maybe Sanders, Winterman and Poli. They all hang out together.”

  Dr. Wellon nodded. “It’s certainly possible, though one would think whoever it was would be a bit more circumspect.”

  “Someone I’ve never noticed?”

  “Someone who keeps a quiet profile.”

  “That’s almost all of them,” Doug said.

  “Exactly. I want you to observe them. See if you can tell who bears a grudge against the Escala.” She paused, looking as if she wanted to say something more.

  “What?” Doug asked.

  “I don’t wish to offend you,” Dr. Wellon said.

  “That’s the last thing you need to worry about. Spill it.”

  “Very well. You’ve been in prison. You understand the criminal mind. You may be able to figure out who it is just by watching them and asking questions.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “We don’t know. We’re not experts at this sort of thing. We tried to contact Devereaux for assistance but he’s been busy. The U.S. government wants to shut him down.”

  “Why would they want to do that?” Doug asked.

  “It’s complicated. Mostly, they think he has too much power. Some suspect him of being the God hacker. In the meantime, we need to know as much as we can about who did this and why. Will you help us?”

  “You don’t even need to ask. Let’s go.” And when we finally have the truth, I’ll kill the bastard myself.

  Chapter 27

  Jeremiah stood in the center of Lendra and Dr. Poole’s office, knowing what he had to do, afraid of it all the same. Devereaux and Ned waited beside him, watching him make up his mind. Neither looked particularly happy. Lendra, on the other hand, offered a smile, while Dr. Poole stared ahead blankly, accessing her interface. No doubt she was boning up on the procedure.

  “I could go in with Hannah,” Ned suggested, gesturing to her. She nodded in return. “You could run the drones.”

  “Drones won’t cut it this time,” said Jeremiah. “They’ll be armed and waiting for us.”

  Hannah said, “You obviously don’t want to do this. I’m not sure why, but I respect your decision. Still, when you came back last year, it worked out. You saved us.”

  “At what cost?” Devereaux said. He turned to face Jeremiah and it was obvious he wanted Jeremiah to tell them the truth, but Jeremiah couldn’t do it. He couldn’t lay that burden on their doorstep.

  “There’s something odd about the data scans I have on your condition,” Dr. Poole said. “They’re incomplete, for one thing.”

  Devereaux said, “His body continues to adapt, particularly under periods of heavy stress. The genetic changes Eli made are accelerating his evolution, causing him to mutate much faster than he was before.”

  “I’ll need better data if I’m going to do the surgery.”

  “You’ll get it,” Jeremiah said. “Devereaux can forward you the most recent scans.”

  “It’s for the best, Jeremiah,” said Lendra. “You’ll see. You’ll be stronger, faster, able to withstand a laser pulse that would kill anyone else. And you’ll feel amazing—no more pain. I know you fear this will somehow backfire, but I want you to be yourself again. I want you to live without suffering every moment of the day.”

  “Couldn’t we just bring in Major Payne?” Ne
d asked. “He seems a decent sort, and he’s offered his help in the past.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t work,” Lendra said. “I contacted him a while ago to see if he would be willing to assist us.” When she caught Jeremiah staring at her, she added, “I knew you didn’t want this, so I checked to see if he could help. Unfortunately, he’s been ordered to provide protection for Hathaway, Wilson, Tompkins and Everest.”

  Jeremiah nodded to her and closed his eyes for a moment, thankful she’d made the effort. He’d given her much less credit than she deserved. While she was far from the innocent he’d cared for after the debacle in Minnesota, she’d not devolved into the jaded and manipulative tyrant Eli had become.

  “So we’ve got the Elite Ops protecting these criminals now?” Ned asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” Lendra said. “And I tried to contact President Hope as well, but her office says she doesn’t have time to meet with me. This Devereaux thing is a huge deal. Everyone has an opinion and everyone wants her to act immediately. She’s talking with world leaders as we speak.”

  “The consensus,” said Devereaux, “seems to be that I should be shut down as soon as possible.”

  “We also,” Lendra added, “have no proof that will stand up in court. We used illegal surveillance and truth drugs to discover this plot, and the Supreme Court has held that truth drugs are an unreliable coercive methodology.”

  “So we’re on our own,” Jeremiah said.

  Ned placed a hand on Jeremiah’s shoulder. “I still say we could go in—me, Hannah, Adler and maybe a few others. We could get Hathaway out, learn whether he’s got a cure for Curtik, and once he and Zora are healed up, they could go after Wilson and the others.”

  “Can’t risk you, Ned.” Jeremiah smiled. “You’re too pretty.”

  Ned laughed. “Finally, the man is talking sense.”

  “I also don’t know how much time Curtik has.”

  “We have another problem,” said Dr. Poole. “It’s Zora. She’s starting to show signs of further cellular degradation around the shoulder where she was shot. Dr. Hassan fears the effects of the Inferno may be escalating. It may just be a temporary setback, but we’ve never faced these kinds of wounds before. We don’t know how they’ll behave.”

  “All right,” Jeremiah said. “Let’s do it. Now.”

  “It’s a simple procedure,” said Devereaux. “A series of injections and intravenous therapy. The tricky part is getting the dosages at precisely the right amount.”

  “Yes,” Dr. Poole said. “I’ll need a new tissue sample from you and the complete data scans from you, Professor.” She turned to Jeremiah. “Let’s get to the operating theater and strap you down.” She moved to the door.

  Ned grinned.

  “What?” Jeremiah said.

  “Sounds kinky.”

  “Oh, shut up. Find out everything you can about Hathaway’s security setup. I’ll need,” he gulped, “a jet-copter waiting and my new camo fatigues.”

  “What about weapons?”

  “If I become like I was on the Moon, I won’t need any.”

  He hobbled out of the office, following Dr. Poole down the hall. “These changes,” she said as they walked, “shouldn’t alter you in any way except physically. They were only designed to remove your pain. I believe they’re for the best or I wouldn’t condone them and I wouldn’t consent to or perform the procedure.”

  “I know, Doctor. But just as with Zora and her injury, this is a new area. We don’t really know what’s going to happen. Generally medical breakthroughs are tested on animals and then on people. They’re not usually done without any foreknowledge of how they’re going to turn out.”

  They entered the operating theater and Dr. Poole gestured toward the table. “How are we supposed to test a procedure on someone as unique as you?”

  As Jeremiah climbed up, he noted the piercing agony in his joints and decided to embrace it, for he suspected it would be gone in a few minutes.

  Dr. Poole took a tissue sample and strapped him down. “It’s just a precaution,” she said. “I suspect you’ll begin to feel better almost immediately.”

  Staring at the ceiling as Dr. Poole analyzed his latest tissue sample and prepared the hypo-pads, he realized that a part of him wanted this, longing for the pleasure of a body that responded instantaneously without pain, granting him power and speed and endurance beyond human. Yet a part of him also suspected he would become radically different. This wasn’t going to be a small change—a change of degree. It was going to be a change of kind, making him into something different.

  Not all change was bad, of course. And some of these enhancements would be welcome. But who or what was he about to become?

  “Oh,” Dr. Poole said as she stepped over to the bed. “This changes everything.”

  “You’ve seen the complete scans,” Jeremiah said.

  “Yes.”

  “As you said, it’s a simple procedure.”

  “I thought it was. I didn’t realize—”

  “Doctor,” Jeremiah warned with a glance at the security camera.

  “Of course.” Dr. Poole nodded. She looked at him, blinking rapidly to clear the water from her eyes. “The decision is yours, not mine.”

  “And I have made it.”

  “Then here we go,” Dr. Poole said.

  She placed hypo-pads on the backs of his hands and he began to relax, the pain in his joints diminishing to an insignificant level. A few seconds later, the med-tech unit behind the bed initiated an intravenous feed. He felt almost as if he were being infused with electricity, as if he were becoming overloaded with positive ions amping his energy levels beyond anything he’d felt before, except for that single time on the Moon.

  He found himself smiling idiotically, grinning beyond control, then laughing as power and joy flooded his body. The straps holding him to the table looked puny. He flexed his right arm and yanked, breaking the strap that held his wrist. For a moment, he felt a throbbing pain. He looked down and saw blood coming from his wrist. But the cut immediately began healing itself and the pain faded into nothingness.

  He stared at his hand, clenching it into a fist, noting the cords in his forearms, the tendons and ligaments in his wrist straining against the skin that contained them. If he were to flex every muscle in his body, would he explode?

  Yanking the other hand away from the table, he again felt pain and saw blood, but that wrist began healing instantaneously also. He watched as the skin reformed over the wound, finding himself fascinated by the process of regeneration. He pulled the straps off his chest and sat up, then freed himself from the ones holding his legs in place and ripped the med-tech’s IV away as well.

  Swinging his legs to the side, preparing to launch himself off the bed, he noticed Dr. Poole standing to the side, eyes wide, mouth open. Somehow, he’d forgotten about her. How was that possible? She did this to me. Fixed me.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Jeremiah said.

  He needed to move. Now. He brushed past her and sprinted down the hall. When he reached the stairwell he jumped down to the next landing, turning and jumping down again, forgoing the stairs as he sped to the bottom.

  At street level, he slipped outside to the sidewalk and ran. Nothing existed but his legs and arms, pumping in rhythm as he flew past startled pedestrians, moving faster than he’d ever moved before in his life. He was so far beyond what he’d been, so far beyond human, that the thought of going back to that kind of existence brought pain. He lived to run, to jump, to fight—to test the limits of this body. He longed to chase down something and defeat it. He didn’t care what the prey was. He just wanted to hunt.

  But he was forgetting something. What was it?

  Oh, yes. Curtik and Zora. They needed saving again. Very well. He stopped and looked around him, realizing as he did so that he was over a mile away fro
m CINTEP.

  He savored the run back, dodging people who stared at him while moving at what would have been a sprint not so long ago.

  Chapter 28

  Lendra stared at Jeremiah as he entered the office, Taditha a few seconds behind him, scanner in hand. Even though she had seen him in his prime, what he’d just done astonished her. Intellectually, Lendra had known he would be enhanced beyond his capabilities of a few years ago, but she hadn’t expected him to be so fast, so strong, so animalistic. He looked the same and yet different—in less pain, but also more insulated or arrogant or unconcerned—his body almost quivering with tension. Not fear, but anticipation of movement. He gave off a dangerous aura now, staring at her with a hardness she’d not seen before.

  “I need food,” he said.

  Dr. Poole reached into the pocket of her lab coat, pulling out an energy bar and a bottle of nutri-water, which she handed over. She said, “I suspected as much. I’ve ordered a couple meals. They’re being sent to the OR. One of the reasons you’re so hungry is because you didn’t complete the treatment. You’ll need to get back in there and finish the intravenous therapy before you do anything else.”

  “I couldn’t help it, Doc,” Jeremiah said. “I had to move. Break free. It was a compulsion.” He chomped into the energy bar.

  “And breaking the straps was dangerous. You could have seriously injured yourself.”

  Jeremiah guzzled half the bottle of nutri-water. “You’d have fixed me.”

  “I want you back in the OR immediately. You can eat while we finish the procedure.”

  “Don’t strap me down this time. That’ll just make me want to break free.” He looked at Lendra. “When I go after Hathaway, I’ll need some hypo-pads to knock out the security guards.”

  Devereaux approached Jeremiah and touched his arm. “How do you feel?”

  Jeremiah startled. He turned his head toward the comm board. “Ned. Hannah. How did I miss you?” he said. “You were standing right there the whole time and I never even saw you.”

  “Your body,” Devereaux said, “is taking your entire focus right now. The treatment hasn’t been completed. So your mind will continue to focus inward until you fully acclimate to your new condition.”