Death and The Divide (8 page)

A lump rose in her throat, and tears welled in her eyes. “I loved being there with you, too. When I come back, you can stay with me as much as you want.”

He sniffed, gave a low cry, and he said in a soft voice, “I wish you would be my mom now, Aunt Ria.”

The desperate pain of that statement had her doubled over, fighting to keep from giving in to deep sobs that threatened to overwhelm her.

“Baby,” she said in a strangled voice, fighting to sound as brave and strong as he did. “I’d be honored to be your mom, but I can’t replace your real mom. We’ll always remember her.”

“Okay,” he said, his voice a little brighter. “Okay.”

“Ria?” her mother’s voice took over the line.

“Yes, Mom.” She squeezed her fingers into fists, her nails digging into her palms. The pain helped hold her together. Oh, God, that brave little boy.

“He needs you.” Her voice broke on the last word.

“I know. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Right now, this is more important.”

“Be careful then.”

“I will. Bye, Mom.”

She ended the call and fell to her side on the bed, tucking her knees to her chest. Her poor, sweet nephew. She’d spend the rest of her life helping him, she vowed.

The scanner beeped, and she rolled off of the bed and checked the screen before removing the slide. She blinked several times as her body stiffened. Could this be a clue? It was certainly unexpected. She entered the code to transfer the data to her pad. Dr. Manson had to see this.

Chapter Eight

“This is very interesting, Ria.” Dr. Manson ran a forefinger down the report on her pad, his breathing quickening. “Why would
Pleistophora mulleri
show up so far from home in the brain of a whale?”

“Exactly my question. I suppose it could be a scanner error, but I doubt it.” She shifted back and forth on her feet, adrenalin coursing through her veins. This had to be important. A parasite normally found in shrimp in Northern Ireland did not belong in a whale’s brain located in the Gulf of Mexico.

“I’ll need to study the organism in more detail.” He handed her the pad then pursed his lips. He stared off into the distance a moment, then gave her a brief glance.

She nodded. “In that case, we’ll need to return to the university so I can isolate it from the tissue in a secure environment. Damn, I wish we had live samples.”

He lifted his wrist comm. “I’m going to ask for the group to meet so we can share this news. Then, I agree, we need to return to Omaha as soon as possible.”

She hurried to her room to insert another chip before returning to the glass room. She had no time to waste. She had to extract all possible information from the tissue samples. The South had inferior scanners if they missed this parasite. When she scrolled through their data, it was listed. That meant they didn’t know it as a common parasite in an uncommon place.

“Let’s go,” Louis called from the hall.

The others quickly emerged from their rooms and headed for the meeting area. After repeating the series of security checks, they arrived in the strange glass room about the same time as the South group. Dr. Butler gave her a curious look as he sank into the seat beside her.

“Did you find something in the samples?” he asked.

“Maybe.” She nodded toward Dr. Manson.

“Let’s get started,” the big man said, moving a finger over his tech-pad. “Miss Moralez has been running the tissue samples through our portable scanner, as you know. She found an anomaly that needs further investigation. A parasite named
Pleistophora mulleri
was identified in the whale brain tissue.”

“I understand that is a common parasite in shrimp, which is one of the food sources of those whales,” Dr. Butler said. “We didn’t note it as an anomaly.”

“Understandable,” Louis said.

That was gracious. Ria forced a neutral expression. If they had decent parasitologists, it would have been a red flag.

“However, this particular parasite is normally common only in a species of shrimp found in Northern Ireland.” Louis nodded in her direction. “My assistant recognized this finding as one that indicated a deviation from the norm and needs further analysis.”

Dr. Quentin crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t see why that is so significant. Species move to new environments all the time.”

Dr. Manson hesitated a few seconds as though carefully considering his response. “That’s true. But Northern Ireland and the Gulf of Mexico are quite a distance apart. There should be some sign of migration other than this sudden appearance. The other issue is finding the parasite in the whale’s brain. It should stay in the intestinal tract and be eliminated. This is a shrimp parasite, not a whale parasite. Again, there should be some sign of transition, not a dramatic leap of this nature.”

The South’s epidemiologist tucked her chin and stared at the tabletop. Dr. Peter flushed pink and focused his gaze on the floor.

“That is compelling,” Dr. Butler admitted. “We only recognized it as a common parasite. What you’re saying would indicate a suspicious genetic mutation.”

“Correct,” Louis said.

Ria shifted in her chair, reassessing her previous opinion of Lincoln Butler. He was open-minded at least, and smart to see where this discovery led.

“Then what’s our next step?” the Southern marine biologist asked.

Annaria cleared her throat. “That will require us separating the parasite from the tissue sample in a specialized containment environment and examining it for a spectrum of mutations. We can’t do that here, obviously. We need to return to our lab in Omaha.”

A prickly atmosphere of anticipation settled over the group. Beside her, Dr. Butler sent a message to his team in Birmingham on his pad, alerting them to this development and directing them to begin more studies. Good for him.

“I asked the South’s fortress facility to provide us with dinner,” Dr. Skinner said. “I suggest we have a meal and spend the last of our time together discussing the possibilities of this latest development before the Northern contingent has to leave.”

Dr. Manson inclined his head to the infectious disease expert. “An excellent idea. This team will continue to work together until the threat is eliminated, so we should get to know one another.”

The group dissolved into micro conversations between individuals as they stood to stretch their legs for the next half hour. Dr. Butler seemed particularly intent on making a good impression with his genial smile. She would have preferred to wait in silence.

“When do you complete your PhD?” he asked.

“Probably not until next year, given this emergency. I always put aside my studies when Louis needs me for his work.”

“You’ve been with him a while?”

“Six years.” She didn’t really want to chitchat. If she couldn’t be in Omaha, mourning her sister, she’d rather work on the slides in her room.

He cleared his throat. “I wanted to say again how sorry I am about your sister. It’s horrible you had to leave so abruptly after it happened.”

Irritation bubbled past her reason. She replied in a sharp tone, “Since it was probably someone from the South who murdered her, I wish you would stop talking about it. It’s not appropriate.”

He paled and took a step back. The others in the room stalled their conversations. They may not have heard what she said, but the tenor of her voice was unmistakable. Louis hurried to her side and put a hand on her shoulder then leaned over and said something in Linc’s ear. The southerner nodded and gave her an apologetic nod and moved away.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I need to leave. This is too much for me right now.”

“You’re going to stay and show that you have no animosity,” he whispered sternly. “That’s an order. This isn’t about you or Lola or any individual. I’ll remain and talk to you until you calm down. Later, you can apologize to Dr. Butler.”

She cast an evil glance at her mentor. Apologize? Had he gone mad?

He did stay with her, though, until personnel from the South entered the room with carts of steaming trays and other dining necessities, which they loaded on the side table. The aroma wafting from the covered containers set Ria’s stomach grumbling. The others seemed to have forgotten her outburst, so her discomfort faded slightly.

“Everyone grab a plate and we’ll continue our discussion,” Dr. Skinner said. “I hope you will enjoy some authentic southern cuisine.”

Ria buried her irritation. She hadn’t had a decent meal in days. She loaded her plate with fried chicken strips, mashed potatoes, some sort of sautéed green vegetable, and fluffy biscuits. A pan of peach cobbler beckoned, as well, but she left that until she finished the heaping amount she’d already taken. The other Northerners also took liberal portions, happy to stray from their normal restricted diet. If their side had furnished food, they would likely serve Nutro-bars and vitamin water. She’d heard the South didn’t have mandatory fitness time either, and judging by the paunch on Dr. Skinner, she believed it.

“So finding this parasite in the Gulf of Mexico is a big deal?” Dr. Skinner settled his mounded plate on the table. “You’re sure it could be a source of this deviant behavior?”

She swallowed a buttery bite of potato, savoring the rich flavor. Screw it. She would make mashed potatoes when she got home. With butter. “The issue is that it’s the only thing so far that’s out of place. I’ve only analyzed five of the samples. There could be more evidence, but at this point, it would be better to take the samples to our lab, which has finer diagnostic calibration and a more extensive database.”

“I agree,” Dr. Butler said cautiously. “I have a new approach to take with my own samples. I need to return to my lab, as well.”

Dr. Skinner shot him a hard look, but Dr. Manson said, “That seems the best course for now. There is nothing new to discuss until we have another episode. We have our respective programs for containment, implemented by our governments. It’s up to us to solve the puzzle of why. With all of our labs working on the problem, I’m optimistic we’ll have a solution soon.”

“I suggest that we preempt a future investigation of a new outbreak by having our governments approve cross-border visitation before another event happens,” Dr. Carter said. “I have a feeling we’re going to need both groups on the scene from now on.”

Most of the others nodded.

“A great idea,” Louis said. “For now, I’d like to adjourn. If we leave in the next hour, we can be in Omaha by morning.”

Ria suppressed a groan. Great, traveling all night, even in the luxurious T-10, would be a pain. If only they could suspend the no-fly zone for this group since they’d suspended so many other rules in the past couple of days. But the professor was right. They needed analysis and they needed it fast. No time to wade through a tangle of bureaucracy.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, although it was brief.” Dr. Butler rose and offered his hand. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”

She shook it, regretting her behavior. “Thank you, Dr. Butler. It’s I who should apologize. I hope you understand it wasn’t directed at you. I’m tired and sad, that’s all. I’m sure we’ll be communicating some now that we have the SatNet group.”

“Of course. Please, call me Linc.”

His sky blue eyes made her uncomfortable with their directness and flicker of sympathy. Warmth crawled up her neck. “Very well. Then you should call me Ria.”

“If you have any questions about the samples, feel free to contact me.”

“Of course. And if you have any more attacks, let me know.” She broke from his lingering gaze and made busy loading her backpack. It was big of him to apologize, and now she regretted her outburst. Too bad he was from the South. She’d have actually liked getting to know him better. He seemed so different from her mental picture of him from the media reports.

The group said goodbyes and headed to their different sides of the wall. Dr. Manson gave his folks five minutes to gather their belongings and meet in the hanger. Fortunately, she hadn’t unpacked any of her possessions, so leaving was a matter of repacking the scanner and grabbing her bag from her room.

She had a long ride ahead of her, but she couldn’t wait to see Conner and make sure he fared well. If he wanted to stay with her, she’d let him. He’d only hear stories of training and competing in the Great Obstacle Race from her retired father, and her mother stayed too busy with her on-line translation business to care full-time for a curious, growing boy who still needed nurturing.

After settling in the back of the T-10, she unpacked the scanner to place on the seat in front of her, beside Louis. The battery would last ten hours, so by the time they reached Omaha, she could complete the first pass of the samples. That would save her time, and she could focus on anything suspicious in more detail when they reached the university.

She studied the big man across from her. His head down, he stared at his pad screen as his finger moved swiftly across its surface. Some flicker of doubt stirred inside her. Why did she sense something else going on behind the scenes? Probably because he’d mentioned the government providing dossiers on the Southern members. But then, the South had done the same, surely.

Why had it taken such a crisis for the two sides to finally collaborate on something? Of course, they had proven some of her preconceived notions as wrong. Linc was nothing like she’d imagined, and the rest of the Southern group had acted cordial and open. Imagined hatred and stereotypes built on past assumptions kept the two sides hostile and suspicious. And yet, definite differences remained. Were the disagreements so great the two people, once so closely related, remain forever exiled from each other?

The scanner beeped, and she leaned forward to insert another slide. It took them a hundred years to get to this point. It might take a hundred more for any true reconciliation.

“Anything?” Louis asked, peering up from his pad. The other members in the vehicle gave her an anxious look.

She studied the read-out. “No. All normal.”

“That’s good and bad,” Dr. K said. “At least if you find something, we know what we’re up against.”

The group returned to their pads except Dr. Patel who closed his eyes and slumped in his seat.

“Let me know if you hear anything from that Dr. Butler,” Louis said in a low voice. “I hope you apologized.”

She leaned back and studied him moment. “All right, if you’ll tell me why you’re so intrigued with him. Didn’t any of the other members interest you? Why is it so important that I get along with him?”

“Just a hunch that he may be valuable to us. Nothing more.” His gaze slid away.

Right. Did he try to match-make? That made her even more suspicious, which brought out her stubborn streak. Maybe she’d tell him. Then again, maybe not.