Invasion (33 page)

Cassy nodded. “It makes sense,” she said. “And Beau might have been that first host.”

“Possibly,” Sheila said. “But if this scenario is correct, then it could have been anyone anyplace.”

“Thinking back to everything that has happened,” Cassy said more to Pitt than the others, “Beau had to have been the first. And you know something? If it hadn’t been for Beau we’d be like everyone else out there, completely unaware of what is going on.”

“Or we’d already be one of them,” Jesse said.

These sobering thoughts quieted everyone. For a few minutes the only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the chirping of the birds outside the open windows.

“Hey!” Jonathan said, breaking the silence. “What are we going to do about it, just sit here?”

“Hell, no!” Pitt said. “We’ll do something. Let’s get started fighting back.”

“I agree,” Cassy said. “It’s our responsibility. After all, it’s possible that we know more about this calamity right now than anyone else in the world.”

“We need an antibody,” Sheila said. “An antibody and maybe a vaccine for either the virus or the enabling protein. Or maybe one of the antiviral drugs. Nancy, what do you think?”

“No harm in trying,” she said. “But we’ll need equipment and luck.”

“Of course we’ll need equipment,” Sheila said. “We can set up a lab right here. We’ll need tissue cultures, incubators, microscopes, centrifuges. But it’s all available. We just have to get it up here.”

“Make a list,” Jesse said. “I can probably get most of it.”

“I’ll have to get into my lab,” Nancy said.

“Me too,” Sheila said. “We need some of the blood samples from the flu victims. And we have to have the fluid sample from the disc.”

“Let’s do an abstract of that report we made for the CDC,” Cassy said, “and disseminate it.”

“Yeah,” Pitt said, catching on to Cassy’s line of thinking. “We’ll put it out on the Internet!”

“Hey, great idea,” Jonathan said.

“Let’s start by sending it to all the top virology labs,” Sheila said.

“Absolutely,” Nancy said. “And the research-oriented pharmaceutical houses. All of those sources can’t be infected yet. We’re bound to get someone to listen to us.”

“I can set up a network of ‘ghosts,’” Jonathan said. “Or false Internet links. As long as I keep changing them, nobody will ever be able to trace us.”

For a beat the group regarded each other. They were a bit giddy and at the same time overwhelmed with the enormity and difficulty of what they were about to undertake. Each had their own assessment of the chances of success, but no matter what the appraisal was, they were all in agreement they had to do something. At that point doing nothing would have been psychologically more difficult.

THE SUN HAD JUST SET WHEN NANCY, SHEILA, AND JESSE
trooped out to the van and climbed in. Cassy, Jonathan, and Pitt stood on the porch, waved, and told them to be careful.

After Sheila and Nancy had taken a much-needed nap,
it had been decided to make a foraging raid into the city for laboratory equipment. It had also been decided that the kids would remain behind to provide room in the van. At first the kids had objected, particularly Jonathan, but after much discussion they had agreed it was best.

As soon as the van had vanished from sight, Jonathan disappeared back inside. Cassy and Pitt took a brief walk. They skirted the cabin and descended through the pines to the lake. They came to a short dock, and they strolled out to its end. Standing there they silently marveled at the natural beauty of the surroundings. Night was fast approaching, painting the distant hills with deep purples and dark silver blues.

“Standing here in the middle of this splendid nature makes the whole affair seem like a bad dream,” Pitt said. “Like it can’t be happening.”

“I know what you mean,” Cassy said. “At the same time, knowing it is happening and that all humans are at risk, I feel connected in a way I’ve never felt before. I mean, we’re all related. I’ve never felt like all humans are a big family until now. And to think of what we have done to each other.” Cassy visibly shivered at the thought.

Pitt reached out and enveloped her in his arms. It was a gesture to comfort her and keep her warm. As Jesse had promised the temperature had dropped the moment the sun had gone down.

“The threat of losing your identity also makes you look at your life,” Cassy said. “It’s hard for me to let go of Beau, but I have to. I’m afraid the Beau I knew is no longer around. It’s as if he died.”

“Maybe we’ll develop an antibody,” Pitt said. He looked down at Cassy and wanted so much to kiss her, but he didn’t dare.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Cassy said scornfully. “And Santa Claus is going to visit us tomorrow.”

“Come on, Cassy!” Pitt said, giving her a little shake. “Don’t give up.”

“Who said anything about giving up,” Cassy said. “I’m just trying to deal with reality the best I can. I still love the old Beau, and probably always will. But I’ve been slowly realizing something else.”

“What is that?” Pitt asked innocently.

“I’m realizing that I’ve always loved you too,” Cassy said. “I don’t mean to embarrass you, but back when you and I were dating off and on, I didn’t think you really cared for me in a serious way, that you purposefully kept things casual. So I didn’t question my own feelings. But over the last couple of days I’ve been getting a different impression of what your feelings might have been, and that maybe I was wrong back then.”

A smile erupted from the depths of Pitt’s soul and rose up to spread across his face like the rising sun. “I can assure you,” he said. “If you thought I didn’t care for you, you were absolutely, totally, incontrovertibly wrong.”

Pitt and Cassy silently regarded each other in the gathering gloom. They were both experiencing an unexpected exhilaration despite the situation. It was a magical moment until it was shattered by a high-pitched shout.

“Hey, you guys, get your asses up here,” Jonathan screamed. “Come and see this!”

Fearing the worst, Pitt and Cassy raced up to the cabin. Just within the few minutes they’d been at the lake, it had gotten considerably darker beneath the lofty pines, and they tripped over the roots. Rushing into the cabin they found Jonathan watching the TV with one leg casually draped over the arm of the sofa. He was eating potato chips mechanically.

“Listen,” Jonathan mumbled, pointing to the TV.

“…everyone agrees that the President is more vibrant and energetic than ever before. To quote a White House staffer, ‘He’s a changed man.’”

The announcer then had a fit of coughing. She apologized, then continued: “Meanwhile, this curious flu continues to sweep through the nation’s capital. High-ranking cabinet officers, as well as most of the key members of both houses of Congress, have all been felled by this swiftly moving illness. Of course the entire country mourns the death of Senator Pierson Cranmore. As a known diabetic he had been an inspiration to others afflicted with chronic illness.”

Jonathan clicked the mute button on the remote. “Sounds like they control most of the government,” he said.

“I think we already conceded as much,” Cassy said. “What about the abstract we did this afternoon? I thought you were going to get it ready to put it out on the Internet.”

“I did,” Jonathan said. He put his finger on the laptop which was sitting on the coffee table and pushed it around so Cassy could see the screen. The phone line was connected to its side. “All ready,” he added.

“Well, then put it out there,” Cassy said.

Jonathan hit the proper button, and the first description and warning of what was happening to the world zoomed out over the vast electronic superhighway. Word was now on the Internet.

10:30
A.M.

BEAU WAS SITTING IN FRONT OF A GROUP OF TV MONITORS
that he’d had installed in the library. The heavy velvet drapes were drawn across the arched windows to make viewing easier. Veronica stood behind him and massaged his shoulders.

Beau’s fingers lightly danced across the control panel and the monitors all came to life. He raised the sound on the top one on the left. It was NBC covering a news conference by the Presidential Press Secretary, Arnold Lerstein.

“There is no need to panic. That is the word from both the President and the Surgeon General, Dr. Alice Lyons. The flu has definitely reached epidemic proportions, but it is a brief illness with no negative side effects. In fact, most people report increased vigor after the illness. Only those people with chronic illness should…”

Beau switched the sound to the next monitor. The interviewee was obviously British. He was saying: “…over the British Isles. If you or someone you love begins to show symptoms, do not panic. Bed rest, tea, and attention to the fever is recommended.”

Beau switched from one monitor to another in rapid succession. The message was similar whether in Russian, Chinese, or Spanish, or any of the other forty-some-odd languages represented.

“That’s all reassuring,” Beau commented. “The infestation is proceeding as planned.”

Veronica nodded and continued her massage.

Beau switched to the monitor for the camcorder at the front gate of the institute. It was a wide-angle shot that included a gang of approximately fifty protesters attempting to heckle the augmented group of young guards. A number of the institute’s dogs were in the background.

“My wife is in there,” a protester yelled. “I demand to see her. You’ve no right to keep her.”

The smiles on the gatekeepers remained fixed.

“My two sons,” another protester screamed. “They’re in there. I know it! I want to talk with them. I want to make sure they are okay.”

At the same time this group was yelling and screaming, there was a steady stream of calm, smiling people entering through the gate. These were all infected people who’d been summoned for service at the institute, and they were wordlessly recognized by the gatekeepers.

The fact that some people were being allowed entrance without question further inflamed the protesters. They
had been ignored since their arrival. Without warning they stormed the gate en masse.

A melee erupted with a lot of yelling and shoving. Even a few fists were thrown. But it was the dogs who quickly determined the outcome. They came charging in from the periphery and attacked. Their vicious snarling and tearing at the legs of the protesters quickly eroded the group’s collectively inspired courage. The protesters fell back.

Beau switched off the monitors. He bent his head over onto his chest so Veronica could get at the muscles at the base of his neck. He’d only had one hour of sleep instead of the two he needed.

“You should be pleased,” she said. “Everything is going so well.”

“I am,” Beau responded. Then he changed the subject: “Is Alexander Dalton in the ballroom? Did you see him when you went down there?”

“The answer is yes to both questions,” Veronica said. “It’s as you wish. He would never contravene your order.”

“Then I should go to the ballroom,” Beau said. He straightened his neck and stood. A short whistle brought King instantly to his feet. Together they descended the central stairs.

The level of activity in the vast room had increased. Many more workers were involved than the previous day. The support beams of the ceiling were now totally exposed, as were the studs of the walls. The huge chandeliers as well as the massive decorative corniches were all gone. The enormous arched windows were almost completely
sealed over. In the center of the room a complicated electronic structure was rising. It was being constructed with all the pirated parts from the observatory, various electronic concerns, and the nearby university physics department.

Observing all the coordinated activity for such great purpose brought a particularly broad smile to Beau’s lips. He couldn’t help recalling that the room had once been used for something as frivolous as dancing.

Alexander saw Beau standing at the ballroom’s entrance and joined him immediately. “Looks good, wouldn’t you say?”

“It looks tremendous,” Beau said.

“I’ve got some other good news,” Alexander said. “We’re effecting immediate closure of most of the highest polluting factories around the Great Lakes. This should be completed within the week.”