The Nirvana Plague (32 page)

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Authors: Gary Glass

Tags: #FICTION / General

BOOK: The Nirvana Plague
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They kept the news playing, but to avoid attracting the attention of police patrols, they kept the sound low, the screen dim, and dialed the windows down to deep tint.

Benford called Marley in his room. He was sitting at his desk making notes on his tablet. Notes about what to say to Ally. He’d made a strategic decision to call her before he called Karen. He dreaded it.

He had the news going on his desktop screen. He punched it over to phone, and Benford’s face replaced the newsreader’s. She looked the way she always looked: taut — only more so. She appeared to be sitting at the desk in her own quarters.

“I haven’t found out much,” she said. “Hanover was released from jail a couple of hours ago.”

“I’m going to call my wife first.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to.”

“Let’s stick to the plan.”

“New plan. What else do you know? How did that clip get on the air?”

“It’s PR. The press office at DHS put together the whole media campaign. Explaining IDD and the need for quarantine and so on. They’ve got it down to a regular package. The infectious-disease flavor-of-the-month news feature. Just fill in the blanks. They decided to use that clip to fill in one of their blanks.”

“I don’t get it. I’m sworn to secrecy, forced to deceive people who trust me, to cooperate with violating my patients’ civil rights, to conduct unethical experimental treatments, all in the name of the greater good, and yet your PR people release a classified recording to the national media like it’s just another day at the office.”

Benford studied him coolly. It was apparent to him now that nothing he said actually impressed her. His indignation was just another factor she needed to take into consideration, just one feature of the overall problem. He watched her calculate a response for a few cold seconds, then listened to her deliver it:

“Welcome to the real world,” she said. “The real world isn’t pretty. It isn’t clean. It isn’t tidy. But it’s the way things are. This is where we get stuff done. This is where we make it possible for everyone else to live in the world as it should be.”

Now he watched her wait to see whether her speech would have the desired effect on him. Her coldness made him cold. She wanted an appropriate response, he’d give her one.

“I’m with you on the necessity to combat IDD. I’m with you on the need to bend some of the rules, even to break some of them. But I don’t know what we’re keeping secret from whom, or why.”

“They don’t need to know, they don’t want to know, about this world, the real world. They don’t really want to know about the mess, the viciousness, and the ugliness. They shouldn’t have to know. That is what we’re doing here, and why.”

“We few,” he said, “we sorry few, we live here in the real world so the rest of them don’t have to. That’s what you’re saying.”

“We don’t have time for this, Carl.”

“No, we don’t. But you know, it occurs to me that there’s another way to look at it. Having them live in the unreal world could be good for us too. I mean, it’s not good enough for them to live in just any dream. They need to live in a particular dream. The bambies aren’t living the dream we want them to live, so we’re trying to fix them. We’re trying to prevent that other dream from catching on. We’re afraid of that other dream. Do you suppose we’re afraid that that particular dream world won’t have any place for us hardnosed realist types? Are we afraid we’ll lose our place at the ugly center of the beautiful fantasy?”

Benford’s trademark smile appeared and immediately vanished in its characteristic fashion. She was letting him know she liked him. The way a patient parent indulges a big-talking child.

“I’m no philosopher, Carl. I’m just a working officer with a problem to solve. We can chat about the metaphysics of that problem at length, when we have the time. But here and now, we have a little job to do. Are you up to it or not?” She didn’t wait for an answer this time. Only one answer was acceptable. “Now, as of an hour ago, the whole project is on comm restriction. General Harden’s orders. Nothing comes in or goes out without authorization. Which means I am going to monitor your calls to your wife and Karen Hanover. However, I’m not going to speak, and they don’t need to know anyone else is listening in.”

“Are we recording it too then?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if we were?”

“I’ll text you with help if necessary.”

Marley pushed his tablet forward where his notes wouldn’t be visible on video. “Here we go.” He reached toward the phone screen, requested a call extension, brought up Ally’s number, and punched it through. Benford’s face shrank into a small frame in the corner of the screen. Ally answered on her cell phone, without video, so the main part of the screen remained blank.

“I’ve been trying to reach you all day,” Ally said.

“I’m incredibly busy, Al,” Marley said, trying to sound like this was an ordinary call. “And our communications are restricted now. It’s protocol. Part of the— ”

“I’m at the shop. We’re closed. The CDC shut me down today. Karen is here too. We saw you on Newsline. She’s been in jail all day.”

“Karen is there?”

“Yes. She wants to talk to you.”

“I’ll bet.”

“I’m going to conference her in.”

Marley felt disoriented. Ally’s tone was matter of fact. He’d expected hatred. And now he had to deal with both women both at once — and Benford too, listening carefully from her little corner of the otherwise blank screen. He was outnumbered.

Karen came on. “Is Roger there?”

Straight to the point.

“Yes, Karen. I’m sorr—”

“Put him on.”

“I can’t. He’s—”

“Put him on.”

“I’m in my quarters. He’s not in the room.”

“Get him in the room.”

“I can’t. He’s in quarantine.”

“No shit. Put him on.”

“He’s in his own room at the other end of the building. He’s probably asleep.”

“He doesn’t sleep. I’ll wait. Put him on.”

“He’s medicated, Karen. But he’s perfectly fine.”

A text from Benford popped onscreen under her little window:

 

Careful.

 

“What do you mean he’s medicated?” Karen said.

“To control his symptoms. But he’s fine, Karen. I’m sorry that—”

“Just put him on the fucking phone then!” she screamed.

“I can’t. I wish I could, but—”

There was a popping sound.

Ally said, “Karen is upset.”

“Is she still on the line?”

“No, Carl. She just threw her phone across the room. She just ran to the restroom.”

“Is she all right?”

“I think she’s throwing up.”

“I’m sorry. I’m very sorry. Roger really is all right. Try to make her understand.”

Another helpful text from Benford:

 

Good.

 

“What’s going on, Carl?” Ally said. “Do you think you’ll be able to kill it?”

Her tone was queer — both warm and sarcastic. Talking to her made him feel vaguely dizzy.

“We’re doing the best we can.”

“Are we?” she said. “Are we doing the best we can?”

“Yes, Ally. Don’t you think I’d always try to do the best I could for my patients?”

“Who are your patients?”

Her tone was detached, curious.

Benford wrote:

 

Reach Hanover thru her.

 

Marley was feeling increasingly embarrassed by Benford’s eavesdropping.

“You know what I mean, Al—”

“Who are you?” Ally said. “Who are you really? You sound like you’re trying to impersonate yourself.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No,” she said. “No. You don’t. But there was a man who would have known, and you remind me of him sometimes.”

“Who are
you
, Al? You’re the one who doesn’t sound like herself. What do you want from me?”

“What a curious question. What do you want me to want from you?”

Benford:

 

Don’t get caught up in a husband wife squabble.

 

He pounded a message back to her:

 

STOP

 

But he spoke to Ally as he sent it: “Let’s not fight, Al. I only have a few minutes to talk. Let’s not—”

“You aren’t saying anything, Carl. You’re talking, but you aren’t saying anything. When was the last time you really said anything?”

The call lasted another excruciating minute and a half. Karen did not come back on. He hung up and Benford’s little frame came back up full-screen.

“That went well,” he said.

He felt hot and sweaty. He hadn’t looked at his notes once on the call.

“I don’t know whether we helped our cause or hurt it,” Benford said.

Marley couldn’t help scowling. He didn’t really try. “I did what you asked. For the cause. Now I need a shower.”

He hung up.

Chapter 28

REPORTER: But most of the cases are in the United States.

CDC SPOKESMAN: Yes, that’s correct. As far as we know, most of the cases are in the United States.

REPORTER: And why is that?

CDC SPOKESMAN: Nobody knows. It’s one of the many mysterious aspects of this disease.

REPORTER: Is there reason to believe that IDD will continue to spread as rapidly as it is now?

CDC SPOKESMAN: Again, nobody knows.

REPORTER: But isn’t it the case that IDD so far has been primarily affecting particular types of populations, such as prisons, hospitals, and military units?

CDC SPOKESMAN: Yes, as far as we know.

 

Karen came from the restroom looking pale and unsteady. She groped for her phone on the floor in the darkness on the far side of the room, and then came back to the booth where Ally sat awash in the wobbly light of the news cranking out the official word on all things IDD.

 

REPORTER: Is there any reason to think it will spread to the general population?

CDC SPOKESMAN: Once again, nobody knows. Nobody knows why it is affecting these particular populations. In the early years of the AIDS outbreak, nobody understood why it was almost exclusively affecting homosexuals and IV drug users. A lot of people wanted to believe that it would never spread to the general population. Just as with IDD now, in those days, before the HIV virus was discovered, nobody knew what was causing AIDS. So in the absence of evidence to the contrary it was easy for many people, particularly people in the media and policy makers in government, to maintain the belief that AIDS was limited to certain marginal groups. — Because of that belief a lot of people,
millions
of people, are now dead who needn’t have died — who
wouldn’t
have died if not for the stupidity of that belief and the policies that flowed from it.

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