Panspermia Deorum (41 page)

The Japanese
lab had been hurriedly thrown together, but at least it was now
operating. Initially, Eugene would work independently on the
primary infiltration refinements, and more draconian changes to
schizophrenic resolution. Brandon and his cohorts would make
intensive efforts to reproduce the capability of physical
distortion he had created in embryos, but this time in living
volunteers. His vision was rooted in sowing seeds of temporary
metabolic chaos, not the growth of new appendages, or all-over body
hair, or radiation resistant dermal change. A random symbiotic ally
to join with Eugene’s procedural snip and stitch technique. The
third strand, a Trojan Horse, would only be tackled when the others
had been completed. It would, of necessity, have to derive part of
its purpose from the prevailing trends to whichever direction the
virus was heading. A trap had to be founded upon surprise.

Just how long
they could cope with working eighteen hour shifts was another
concern. However, they needed no other incentive than the recent
capitulation of the health organisations in reporting numbers of
known infected individuals. The rate at which this had escalated
had eventually overwhelmed the system, and of course carried the
additional implied threat that unknown infection numbers were
probably much higher.

*

Against his
better judgement Suma was weakening in the face of Zlatan’s
request.

“Suma, I don’t
seem to have any problems with the sting, so let me have two each
day and see what happens. I can return to one if I have any bad
reaction.”

“Not good idea,
my father knows from many years ago.”

“Well, maybe
so, but I am a nurse, sorry I was a nurse, and I understand these
things. I promise to tell you if it makes my sickness worse.”

“I ask
father.”

“No, listen, I
can see you would like to see Lydia go home. What if I take her
with me? If I remain on only one sting each day, she could be here
for months.”

“Mmm, Lydia go
with you – will it be true?”

“Of course, I
guarantee it.”

The bargain was
struck. After only four days the extra venom began to take effect.
Defecation turned green. Forty-eight hours later his vision started
to clear, and Suma declared that he wasn’t so hot.

When Suma asked
about Lydia’s departure, Zlatan faked concern.

“Unless I show
normal heat level for humans, I can’t go back, and Lydia will not
go by herself. What should we do?”

Suma paced up
and down, gesticulating to the heavens, muttering some Aboriginal
request to the gods.

“No stay.”

“No stay
where?” asked Zlatan.

Suma ran off
without replying. When he returned several minutes later, he had a
beaming smile on his face.

“You go, Lydia
go.”

“I can’t, I’ve
already…”

“Bodu are in
box for you, many bodu, many bees.”

“Where?”

“I show you. A
secret place. Nobody can see. You get Lydia.”

It was quite a
convoluted conversation.

“Come on Lydia,
we have to leave.”

“You still have
a deviant heat signature.”

“I know, but
Suma’s old man wants us gone. Apparently the main nest of the bees
has been deserted. Olla blames us for the extra usage. Suma thinks
his father will concede to pressure from those who aren’t
responding, to terminate us.”

“The bastard,
you mean stop our treatment?”

“No, stop our
bloody breathing. Just get your stuff, now. We have to go.”

“What if the
symptoms come back?”

“We’ll have to
worry about that later. But Suma has stashed a container full of
bees for us to take, and he is going to show us where it is.
There’s absolutely no time to lose.”

“Does Suma know
I’m leaving? He’ll be angry.”

“He’s angry at
this father, but he knows you’ll be safer away from here. The guy’s
a real star. He thinks the world of you, and he wouldn’t take such
a risk if it was just me his father was going to kill. For hell’s
sake stop bleating and pick up your stuff or I’ll have to tell him
we’ll take our chance with the old man.”

They followed
Suma to the hide and he looked around before taking the container
and passing it to Zlatan.

“Go. Father
back soon. I must be in trench when you gone.”

Lydia threw her
arms around Suma’s neck and forced her tongue between his lips.
Zlatan yelled at her.

“You’re risking
the guy’s life. If you don’t come now, I’m going alone, and you
don’t know the way back.”

“Think of me,
Suma. Don’t forget me.”

“Give him a
break. How could he possibly forget you?”

They rushed off
in the direction of the track where they’d found the abandoned car,
not looking back, but hearing the angry bees protesting against the
jostling to which they were being subjected.

E
ugene’s call to Lyon elicited very mixed news. Julien
had some initial reports from around the globe to pass on to his
son. However, he felt it was necessary to cover the local situation
first.

“I hardly know
where to start. Sophie and Reuben have moved in with us, as has
Geraldine. The streets are completely lawless now. Sophie’s
district was a desirable place to live just a few months ago. But,
being near the city centre is not advisable any more. Our apartment
isn’t so badly affected, but as Geraldine’s is on the ground floor
we thought she would be safer in the penthouse. Her neighbour had a
break-in and was badly beaten by the burglar, who thankfully wasn’t
a deviant, but could have been. Society is falling apart and I
shudder to think what lies ahead.”

“Hell’s teeth,
do you want me to come back, Dad? I feel so impotent sitting here.
I know we have important work to do, but I cannot just ignore the
risk to my family.”

“No, Eugene,
you and the other microbiologists around the world are the only
ones who can stop this plague. I have some information for you and
it paints a depressing picture. Let me start with my friends from
the observatories, specifically in Chile and South Africa. They
both claim that temperature seems to have an effect on the rate of
spread of the virus, the regions closer to Antarctica seem to be
faring better than those further north. They also concur on the
subject of an alarming increase in the numbers of deviants in
positions of influence in cities. They are reporting that the
Alphas reach a stage where they can lead double lives, cannibals
one minute and ultra-sophisticated the next. The South African
people mentioned a departure from long-established behaviour of
certain migratory birds. Gigantic flocks of small avian species
have started attacking lions. Apparently, they swoop in Kamikaze
style, sacrificing numbers to peck out the lion’s eyes and then
they completely cover the beast, layer upon layer, the weight of
which eventually brings the beast down, and the birds ultimately
strip the carcass to the bones, wasting absolutely nothing. I also
took your hint and asked Alexei Bondarenko to give me the rundown
on the USA and Russia. Once again we have a picture of places
nearer the Arctic Circle being less affected by the virus, because
of the relative cold. However, he said the Russians were treating
any suspicion of being a deviant as justification for killing the
subject. In America, he said there is concern that the intelligence
organisations, which were already struggling under the welter of
civil unrest demonstrations, have basically ceased to function.
Europe is in a serious mess, in no small way because of the refugee
camps disintegrating and blending into the chaos. The
Middle-Eastern states have suspended oil production quotas to the
West, and communication of the reason for this action isn’t
forthcoming. That in itself has fuelled suspicion that it is
centred on their belief that it would give the virus a helping hand
to redefine the world pecking order in any immediate
post-apocalyptic period. Well, that’s about it really, I hope this
is the kind of general stuff you asked for.”

“Absolutely.
It’s very useful in terms of where we could begin testing any
remedial treatment, if indeed we can develop a sufficiently
promising candidate. You didn’t mention Australia, Dad. Any
particular reason?”

“Putting it
very simply, it’s a black hole. No information escapes the
exclusion zone. Nobody knows how bad things are. Conspiracy
theories abound, the main one being that the whole viral problem is
being masterminded from there.”

“Ok, thanks for
the effort you’ve spent on this. I won’t expect too much more in
view of the situation in Lyon. Speak to you again soon, Dad. Best
to the rest of the family.”

*

Having parted
company with Lydia, Zlatan approached the exclusion zone with some
trepidation, perspiring profusely even though it was almost
midnight.

The checkpoint
was manned by two guards he’d known well. They raised their
rifles.

“What the hell
are you doing here? We’ve been told you were infected and then
died.”

“That doesn’t
surprise me. I was infected and if I hadn’t escaped I would surely
be dead. I’m no longer sick and I have to see my old boss.”

“Oh yeah, and
how do we know you aren’t sick anymore? Nobody survives this virus.
Just keep your distance, we’re authorised to shoot if a deviant
doesn’t do exactly as we say.”

“So, what are
you going to do with me?”

They looked at
each other, and the second guard replied.

“You aren’t
talking like a deviant. What’s your name?”

“Geoffrey
Nelson, but you both know that. I’m a nurse and I got infected by a
patient I was trying to help. Look, I’m willing to take any test my
boss thinks is appropriate to check if I’m a risk. I have no idea
how or why I survived, but the top brass will be pissed off if you
let me walk away from here without being examined. That is, unless
they already developed a vaccine. It’s your call boys, and I’m not
going to stand here all night.”

The guards
appeared to be in a quandary.

“Your boss
isn’t here right now, he doesn’t work nights.”

“I know that,
so it would be a good time to call him at home, when your superiors
aren’t here. You don’t get it, do you? I’m living proof that some
humans can survive this curse. Make up your mind.”

The first guard
picked up the phone and dialled the number. It was a very short
conversation.

“He’s on his
way. You have to stay right where you are until he gets here. Don’t
move an inch.”

“I’m tired, and
it would be appreciated if you let me sit down exactly where I am.
My boss will want me awake and able to answer questions. Don’t make
me threaten to leave again, my boss would have you both locked up
if I did.”

The second
guard handed him a chair.

*

In discussing
Eugene’s father’s information there was agreement that the most
interesting item was the increase in the numbers of Alphas rising
to positions of power in a crumbling society. The fascination was
with the alleged transition from ‘cannibal to politician’ and back
again. The proverbial Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. They couldn’t exclude
the possibility that this was in fact a third stage of some kind of
metamorphosis. Yet it seemed so fanciful in view of the knowledge
that phase one infection was so characterised by resolution of two
personalities to a single, obsessional drive to literally consume
the enemy. They would have to think again about the function of the
Trojan Horse they wanted to employ.

“It’s the final
stage which worries me most,” said Brandon, “recognising and
targeting cannibals will be easier than ferreting out plausible
chief executives and government big shots, especially if the tests
for infection become compromised by the shift from phase two to a
third phase.”

“Yes,” replied
Eugene, “that had occurred to me, and maybe even phase three isn’t
the final state of a deviant. If there are further mutations to
come, I don’t think microbiology can offer the capability to adjust
in such short timeframes. Unless we can prevent progression from
one phase to another.”

Brandon shook
his head. “Well, we can forget about phase one to phase two for
that approach. They are all over the planet already. Hopefully this
phase three, if your father’s reports are validated, has a longer
residence time. It’s hard to imagine what it could progress to. The
drive from infection to cannibalism is relatively logical. The
ability to switch from mindless flesh eating to intelligent
management of norms is a hell of a leap, even if it is partitioned
by some arbitrary stimulus such as hunger. All it really does is to
underline our strategy to leave the Trojan Horse until we have the
other components ready. It’s counter-productive to worry about this
until everything else has been checked off.”

“Ok, let’s get
back to work.”

*

Zlatan’s boss
arrived and told him to stay put until he could retrieve his
isolation suit from his locker. He brought a disposable one for the
suspected deviant to put on.

When they were
in the isolation lab he scribbled something on a piece of paper. It
read, ‘Why didn’t you call me directly instead of exposing your
presence to the two guards?’

Zlatan grabbed
the pen and wrote his one word reply.

‘Insurance.’

‘I don’t
understand.’

‘Yes you do.
They’ve seen me, they called you, here you are about to examine me.
It can’t be denied.’

The exchanges
continued until Zlatan locked the door and ripped off the
disposable suit.

“Check whatever
you want. But first, let me tell you what you’ll find. My
temperature is lower than a fully infected person, my vision is
normal, if you give me raw meat I’ll puke up. When you do the
scans, you’ll be puzzled because it will show the infection is in a
dormant state. Boss, watch my lips – I’m not Alpha or Beta, I’m in
a kind of transition status when I should have been in phase two by
now. Well?”