The White Death (24 page)

Chapter 47

“You know, Doc, I’m feeling quite relaxed at the moment,” said Nelson. He swung his feet up on one of the shiny desks, sipping another hot chocolate.

Ursula leaned to the right, grabbing a quick, curious glance at the commander across the room from her.

“I am,” said Nelson, spotting the look. “It’s like retirement.”

“That’s a novel way of looking at it,” said Ursula. “I had pictured my retirement a little different.”

“Well,” he said, whistling, “I always knew I’d die on the job.”

“I know that feeling,” said Ursula. “But I’d hoped for something different.”

“I suppose you do,” said Nelson. He didn’t sound surprised. “What had you hoped for?”

“A country bungalow, to write my memoirs. How English,” said Ursula.

“I can’t picture you in that setting,” said Nelson.

“I’ve worked fighting viruses all my life. I always hoped not to die at the hands of one.”

She continued to input data into the system, waiting for the connection to Section 51 to activate. After several futile attempts, Peter finally appeared.

“Ursula,” said Peter, sounding exasperated. A good-quality image appeared on the screen, but the connection was intermittent.

“I take it this connection could drop at any time?” said Ursula, coming closer to the briefcase. She could see herself in the bottom corner of the screen, still not a hair out of place.

“It could, so fill me in as quickly as you can,” said Peter. “We still can’t receive data from you, so we’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

Ursula turned back to her computer, rereading the quick scribbles she called notes.

“Peter, I’m almost certain we have found a carrier.”

“There can be no room for error here.”

“I’m as certain as I can be,” she murmured, chewing the top of her pen. “Not having to start from scratch has been a minor miracle.”

“The Chinese made progress?” Peter said, not hiding his surprise.

“They did,” said Ursula. “Granted, a lot of it is quite basic, but it saved me the initial groundwork. We’ve made some investigatory progress, but we are at the very earliest of stages. The next few hours are going to be critical.”

She peeled the wrapper off another chocolate bar, this time with a caramel filling.

“How many of them have you had now?” said Nelson, walking past her to the coffee dock.

“My weight is the least of my worries,” she replied, taking a bite. The sugar rush was helpful. She watched Nelson go for the hot chocolate powder again.

“Oh, cup for me, as well.”

“Fine,” said Nelson, rolling his eyes in playful fashion.

“Thank you,” she said, appreciating the little gesture. Anyone that kept her on this seat and focused on the work was worth appreciating.

“Do you think we could aim for a cure now instead of a vaccine?” said Peter.

Ursula turned to look at him.

“Peter, it’s a good job you’re not here right now…”

“Ursula!”

“We are not developing a cure,” said Ursula, shouting every word. She didn’t understand why Peter, a highly intelligent man, failed to see the huge shortcomings.

“Can’t we at least discuss it?”

“No,” said Ursula. She was being curt, but it was better than anger. “Peter, miracle worker is not yet in my résumé. We have presidential orders to carry out: deciphering the virus and developing a protective vaccine against it. Those are our goals.”

“We took an oath to help people,” said Peter.

“Okay, that’s it.” Ursula slammed her book down and went right up to the screen. “Explain yourself!”

“What?” said Peter, looking off-camera. “We have a duty to help people.”

“This is about the story getting out, isn’t it?” She knew him better that he thought. “The best thing both of us can do is develop a vaccine for those the virus has yet to ravage. A billion people, Peter. That’s really nothing to be flippant about.”

“I know,” he said. “But when did you become so cold?”

That comment would have stung anyone else, but Peter was right. She had become colder in the last few years. It made her job easier.

“I had to,” she said. “Peter, I never was an office person like you. I prefer to be out there, stuck in the middle of it all. The drawback was becoming colder. You try turning away sick children because you know there’s nothing that can be done for them. It’s pointless giving them a bed that could be used for someone that can be treated and cured. We have a duty of care to the future of our species. Right now, that’s to defend those who are free from infection.”

“Just give me an update.”

She suspected a sulk was imminent, something he was famed for. His heart was always in the right place, but that was a dangerous trait now. He needed to be more like her, more cold.

“Gladly.”

Peter began talking about what methodologies would be best to use against the virus for a vaccine, but something had caught Ursula’s eye. A simple notepad, hidden under the piles of paper and folders on the table. The Chinese really had theorized everything.

“Strange,” she muttered.

“What is?” said Nelson, as Peter kept talking.

“Peter, what do you make of this?” Ursula said. She walked over, holding the little notepad up to the screen.

“It looks like some kind of algorithm to me.”

“That’s what I thought, too.”

“For what, though?”

“A computer,” said Ursula.

Peter rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, I wasn’t being sarcastic.” It had clicked in her head. “A computer program.”

“For the virus?” asked Peter. “I can’t see it.”

“I think I recognize some of the basic instructions,” said Ursula. “Basic computer coding.”

“I didn’t know you could do computer programming.”

“I dabbled in it,” said Ursula, “nothing extreme, but I’ve a very basic understanding.”

“Well, can you input it into a Chinese computer system?” Peter asked.

“I’ll try.” It was a basic mathematical formula for computer input, scrawled down in a hurry. She couldn’t help but wonder which poor sod was brave enough to get his final notes down before having to flee.

“Well?” asked Peter after fifteen minutes.

She bit her lip—patience was never his strong suit.

“It’s a little tricky, Peter.” She tapped in the last commands. “There, I think that’s it.”

“You think?”

“Peter, I swear…” said Ursula.

“He’s lucky I’m stuck down here,” said Nelson, his teeth clenching.

“Now, now,” she replied. “Let’s keep on track. Peter, the program I’ve created—well, it’s a bit more advanced than I thought. But I followed the instructions to the letter.”

“Well … engage,” said Peter.

Ursula initiated the program. Number sequences danced around the desktop, like a big jumble being put into order. “I hope these computers can handle all this. They’re not CIM.” She felt cold air rushing across her feet as the fans shot to full capacity.

“Ach damn!” said Ursula, cursing loudly.

“What happened?” said Peter. Nelson raced over.

“Computer error,” she said, not wanting to worry him. “Hold on…”

“Can you fix computers?” asked Nelson. “I can’t.”

Without hesitation, she kicked the computer under the desk with her thick boots.

“That didn’t help,” said Nelson.

The computer switched back on, and Ursula nearly fell off her chair.

“What is that?” asked Nelson, just as shocked.

“What’s what?” said Peter.

Ursula was stunned, and her scientific friend wasn’t oblivious to the expression on her face.

“What the hell do you see?” said Peter.

Nelson lent into her ear. “What is it?” he whispered.

“The virus,” said Ursula. She was both stunned and confused at the same time. The virus was displayed on the computer screen, beautiful and crystal clear. It was represented as a floating, rotating lattice sphere bristling in bright blue and white colors.

“We’re looking at the virus, Doc,” said Nelson. “Whoa!”

“This is impossible,” said Ursula. The shock was starting to wear off, confusion setting in. “Peter.” She looked back to her colleague.

“Tell me everything,” said Peter. “I need to know.”

“The program has illustrated the virus in its entirety.” She was jotting down notes frantically now, afraid of forgetting any new idea.

“First impressions?”

“Clearly an artificially designed virus,” she said. “The structure has a very mechanical construction to it… It’s perfect. Very interconnected, for max efficiency.”

“The Bernay are experts in their field,” said Peter. “I’d expect nothing less.”

“We’re experts, too—just remember that,” She could tell he was worried. “It’s time to get to work. Nelson, an extra-strong coffee, please.”

“Yes ma’am,” he acquiesced, taking the hot chocolate back.

“Where do you want to start?” Peter said.

“Layering.” Ursula called up the tools menu on the computer and instructed the program to begin scanning the virus. “We need to know exactly how many parts make up this virus.”

“Makes sense,” said Nelson, whipping up a fresh cup for her.

“If we can disrupt the virus’s ability to communicate with each of its internal components, we may be able to render it dormant,” said Peter.

“It’s a possibility.” The virus sphere broke apart, separating. “We’ve got three layers.”

“Could have been worse,” said Peter. “How’re they connected?”

“There you go,” said Nelson, handing her a fresh cup.

“Seems to be thin artificial data strands,” said Ursula, nodding her thanks to Nelson. “Dozens connecting each layer together, like shots of spider web.”

The adrenaline was now racing through her.

“How did the Chinese create such an advanced program?” said Peter.

“What?”

“Well, it does make you wonder.”

“We can wonder about that later,” said Ursula. “Be grateful for small mercies. Computer, activate.” Nelson had certainly made the coffee extra strong, and she added more sweetener.

“Computer online. English mode confirmed,” said the mechanical voice. Ursula had noted the Chinese had installed a rudimentary voice control computer system in the lab.

“Begin scanning layer one of the virus. Full scan and report.”

“Scanning.”

“What are you thinking?” asked Nelson, pulling up a chair. Peter listened in. The bottom layer of the virus was highlighted on the computer screen, which began to change color as it was scanned and processed.

“Scanning the entire virus would just complicate things. I want to know what each layer is, how it works, and then try and put together the larger picture.”

“And hopefully find a weak spot, a way in,” said Peter.

“Can you create a vaccine from it?” said Nelson.

“I’ve never failed yet,” she replied, sipping the now sweet-tasting brew. Perfect.

“That’s true,” said Peter.

“Analysis complete,” said the Chinese computer after ten minutes.

“Fascinating,” said Ursula. The report was summarized on screen for her, and she quickly sped through it with eagle eyes.

“Fuck, I really need to be there,” swore Peter.

“Watch your language,” she said. “Computer, analyze layer two.”

“Well, what about layer one?” asked Peter.

“Strange…”

“Tell me!” he said.

Her eyes were transfixed on the data. “It is designed to completely overwhelm our immune system.”

“How? What method?” said Peter.

“Rather simple, actually,” said Ursula. “Layer one is made up of thousands of pathogens.”

“How can you be sure?” asked Peter.

She shot him a disapproving stare.

“Sorry,” he said quickly.

“Thousands of pathogens, but all very run-of-the-mill. The overall fatality rate has been calculated to be less than point four percent for a healthy human with an uncompromised immune system.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Peter. “Why have one layer…”

“Maybe it’s a diversion,” said Nelson.

“A what?” said Peter.

Ursula looked at Nelson.

“A diversion,” said Nelson. “These pathogens, they distract our immune system.”

“And let the real threat slip on in,” said Ursula.

“Which is?” said Nelson.

“God only knows,” she said, looking at Peter. “It makes you wonder what they’re hiding.”

“Nothing,” said Peter. “This is a virus gone horribly wrong.”

Ursula and Nelson looked at each other, knowing they both thought otherwise.

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions until we find out what’s in layers two and three,” said Peter.

She agreed, but that troubling feeling in her gut, which was never wrong, was getting stronger.

“Taking its time with this one,” said Nelson. He nodded to the screen, the percentage bar now crawling for layer two.

“A lot more data,” said Ursula. “But it is working.” She made a mental note to try to discover the author of this fantastic program. Their name didn’t deserve to just fall into time, unrecorded.

They all shared a moment’s silence.

“Layer two?” said Peter.

“Ninety-nine percent done,” said Nelson.

“Once we get all three layers scanned—” Her thoughts were interrupted as the power cut out, blackness capturing them both.

“That was unexpected,” said Nelson, not a decimal of fear in his voice.

“What happened?” Peter said loudly. The briefcase had maintained the video connection.

Ursula remained still, using every ounce of her concentration to stay calm and not overreact. She just kept thinking about the data, hoping it wasn’t lost or corrupt. They couldn’t afford a setback now. Worse, if they lost power permanently, then the mission would be over.

“You okay?” said Nelson.

Ursula stayed still, the light from the video stream with Peter allowing them to see shadows. She prayed silently to some higher being for mercy. The answer came quickly enough, and power pulsated through the laboratories in a flash.

“Thank God,” she cried, finally letting herself breathe. The computers rebooted.

“Peter, we have layer two.”

“Well?” Peter asked, the power cut completely forgotten about now.

Ursula shifted in her chair, unable to get comfortable. Writing down a few more notes, she kept a sharp eye on the minutes that continued to pass her by. Time was her real enemy now.

“Ursula,” said Peter again.

“None of this makes any sense,” she said, her eyes stinging. “I’m bloody confused… It looks like layer two is a neurotropic virus.”

“So the Eugenics Virus is made up of different viruses working together?” said Peter. He instructed CIM to begin researching possible virus combinations.