“Is there not a security protocol?” Percy asked, regarding his fellow senators on the committee with a look of astonishment. “This committee is not known for its discretion. I ask you to consider the political and social fallout—”
“Madam Chair,” the senator from Arizona demanded, exasperated.
“Dr. Rafelson, please explain,” Gianelli said, ignoring the ruckus.
“Blood samples from more than fifty thousand males in committed relationships are again producing SHEVA retroviruses. Current CDC estimates are that more than twenty thousand women will give birth to second-stage SHEVA infants over the next eight to twelve months in the United States. In the next three years, we may have as many as a hundred thousand SHEVA births.”
“My God,” Percy called out, “Will it never end?” His voice made the sound system ring.
“The big ball rolls again,” Gianelli said.
“Is this true, Ms. Browning?” Senator Percy demanded.
Browning drew herself up. “Thank you, Senator. Emergency Action is well aware of these cases, and we have prepared a special plan to counteract their effect. True, there have been miscarriages. Subsequent pregnancies have been reported. There is no proof that these children will have the same kind of virally induced mutations. In fact, the retrovirus being shed by males is not homologous to the SHEVA viruses we are familiar with. We may be witnessing a novel resurgence of the disease, with new complications.”
Senator Percy moved in. “This is awesome and awful news. Ms. Browning, don’t you think it is high time that we free ourselves of these invaders?”
Browning arranged her papers. “I do, Senator Percy. A vaccine has been developed that confers substantial resistance to transmission of SHEVA and many other retroviruses.”
Kaye held onto the edge of the table to keep her hands from shaking. There was no new vaccine; she knew that for a fact. This was the purest scientific bullshit. But now was certainly not the time to call Browning to account. Let her spin her web.
“We expect to be able to stop this new viral phase in its tracks,” Browning continued. She slipped on granny reading glasses and read from notes on her data phone. “We are also recommending quarantine and GPS-chipping and tracking of all infected mothers, to prevent further outbreaks of Shiver. We hope to eventually get court permission to chip all SHEVA children.”
Kaye looked along the row of faces behind the dais, seeing only fear, and then turned to Browning again.
Browning held Kaye’s gaze for a long moment, eyes square and forthright over the granny glasses. “Emergency Action has the authority, under Presidential Decision Directives 298 and 341, and the authority conferred by Congress in our original charter, to announce a full quarantine of all affected mothers. We are ordering separate house arrest for males shedding the new retrovirus, removing them from households where they may infect their partners. The bottom line is we do not want any more SHEVA-affected children to be born.”
Chase had gone pale. “How do we prevent that, Ms. Browning?” he asked.
“If chipping cannot be implemented immediately, we’ll resort to older methods. Ankle bracelets will be attached to monitor the activities of affected males. Other plans are being drawn up even now. We will prevent this new surge of disease, Senator.”
“How long until we can cleanse our bodies of these viruses completely?” Senator Percy asked.
“That’s Ms. Lang’s area of expertise,” Browning said, and turned to her with an ingenuous expression, one professional to another. “Kaye? Any progress?”
“Our division is trying new procedures,” Kaye said. “So far, we have been unable to remove legacy retroviruses—ERVs—from mouse or chimpanzee embryos and proceed to live birth. Removing most or all of the ancient viral genes, including SHEVA genes, produces gross chromosomal abnormalities following mitosis, failure of fertilized eggs to implant, early absorptions, and miscarriages. As well, we have not made progress at Americol with any effective vaccine. There’s a lot to be learned. Viruses—”
“There it is,” Browning interrupted, turning back to the senators. “Utter failure. We have to move now with practical remedies.”
“One wonders, Dr. Rafelson, whether or not you are to be trusted with this work, given your sympathies?” Senator Percy said, and mopped his forehead.
“That’s uncalled for, Senator Percy,” Gianelli said sharply.
Browning swept on. “We hope to share all scientific data with Americol and with this committee,” she said. “We sincerely believe that Ms. Lang and her fellow scientists should be as forthcoming with us, and perhaps a tad more diligent.”
Kaye folded her hands on top of the table.
After the session was gaveled to a close, Augustine sipped a glass of water in the waiting room. Browning walked briskly by.
“Did you have anything to do with this, Mark?” she asked in an undertone, pouring herself a glass from the frosted pitcher. Three years ago, he had underestimated the fear and hatred of which Americans were capable. Rachel Browning had not. If the new director of Emergency Action trailed any rope, Augustine could not see it.
Many more years might pass before she hanged herself.
“No,” Augustine said. “Why would I?”
“Well, the news will get out soon enough.”
Browning turned away from the door to the waiting room as Kaye was ushered in by Laura Bloch, and slipped away with her counsel. Bloch quickly secured Kaye a cup of coffee. Augustine and Kaye stood less than a pace apart. Kaye lifted her cup. “Hello, Mark.”
“Good evening, Kaye. You did well.”
“I doubt that, but thank you,” Kaye said.
“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry,” Augustine said.
“For what?” Kaye asked. She did not know, of course, all that had happened on that day when Browning had called and told him about the possible acquisition of her family.
“Sorry you had to be their decoy,” he said.
“I’m used to it,” Kaye said. “It’s the price I’m paying for being out of the loop for so long.”
Augustine tried for a sympathetic grin, but his stiff face produced only a mild grimace. “I hear you,” he said.
“Finally,” Kaye said primly, and turned to join Laura Bloch.
Augustine felt the rebuff, but he knew how to be patient. He knew how to work in the background, silently and with little credit.
He had long since learned how to emulate the lowly viruses.
9
NEW MEXICO
To enter the Pathogenics zoo, they had to pass through a room with bare concrete walls painted black and dip their shoes in shallow trays of sweet, cloying yellow fluid—a variation on Lysol, Turner explained.
Dicken awkwardly swirled his shoes in the fluid.
“We do it on the way out, too,” Presky said. “Rubber soles last longer.”
They scraped and dried their shoes on black nylon mats and slipped on combination cotton booties and leggings, cinched around the calf. Presky gave each a snood and fine mesh filter masks to cover their mouths, and instructed them to touch as little as possible.
The zoo would have made a small town proud. It filled four warehouses covering several acres, steel and concrete walls lined with enclosures containing loose facsimiles of natural environments. “Comfortable, low stress,” Turner pointed out. “We want all our ancient viruses calm and collected.”
“Dr. Blakemore is working with vervets and howler monkeys,” Jurie said. “Old World and New World. Their ERV profiles are vastly different, as I’m sure you know. We hope soon to have chimps, but perhaps we can just piggyback on Americol’s chimp project.” He glanced at Dicken with speculative brown eyes. “Kaye Lang’s work, no?”