Heating systems and the EC and time travel. During the Pandemic it had been the American germ warfare program and air conditioning. Back in the Middle Ages they had blamed the Jews and the appearance of comets for their epidemics. Doubtless when the fact that the virus had originated in South Carolina was revealed, the Confederacy, or Southern fried chicken, would be blamed.
He went in the gate to the porter's desk. The Christmas tree was sitting on one end of it, the angel perched atop it. "I have a student from Shrewsbury meeting me to set up some communications equipment," he told the porter. "We'll need to be let into the laboratory."
"The laboratory is restricted, sir," the porter said.
"Restricted?"
"Yes, sir. It's been locked and no one's allowed in."
"Why? What's happened?"
"It's because of the epidemic, sir."
"The epidemic!?"
"Yes, sir. Perhaps you'd better speak with Mr. Gilchrist, sir."
"Perhaps I had. Tell him I'm here, and I need to be let into the laboratory."
"I'm afraid he's not here just now."
"Where is he?"
"At the Infirmary, I believe. He — "
Dunworthy didn't wait to hear the rest. Halfway to the Infirmary it occurred to him that Polly Wilson would be left waiting with no idea where he'd gone, and as he came up to the hospital, it came to him that Gilchrist might be there because he'd come down with the virus.
Good, he thought, it's what he deserves, but Gilchrist was in the little waiting room, hale and hearty, wearing an NHS face mask, rolling up his sleeve in preparation for the inoculation a nurse was holding.
"Your porter told me the laboratory's restricted," he said, stepping between them. "I need to get into it. I've found a tech to read Kivrin's fix."
Gilchrist looked belligerent. "It was my understanding that your tech had read the fix before he fell ill."
"He did, but he's in no condition to tell us what it said." And there's something wrong with it, he thought. "Andrews has agreed to read it by remote, but we need to set up transmission equipment."
"I'm afraid that's impossible," Gilchrist said. "The laboratory is under quarantine until the source of the virus is determined."
"The source of the virus?" he said incredulously. "The virus originated in South Carolina."
"We will not be certain of that until we've obtained positive identification. Until then, I felt it was best to minimize all possible risks to the university by restricting access to the laboratory. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm here to receive my immune system enhancement." He started past Dunworthy toward the nurse.
Dunworthy put out his arm to stop him. "What risks?"
"There has been considerable public concern that the virus was transmitted through the net."
"Public concern? Do you mean those three halfwits with the banner outside your gate?" he shouted.
"This is a hospital, Mr. Dunworthy," the nurse said. "Please keep your voice down."
He ignored her. "There has been 'considerable public concern,' as you call it, that the virus was caused by liberal immigration laws," he said. "Do you intend to secede from the EC as well?"
Gilchrist's chin went up, and the pinched lines appeared by his nose, visible even through the mask. "As Acting Head of the History Faculty, it is my responsibility to act in the university's interest. Our position in the community, as I'm certain you're aware, depends on maintaining the good will of the townspeople. I felt it important to calm the public's fears by closing the laboratory until the sequencing arrives. If it indicates that the virus is from South Carolina, then of course the laboratory will be reopened immediately."
"And in the meantime, what about Kivrin?"
"If you cannot keep your voice down," the nurse said, "I shall be forced to report you to Dr. Ahrens."
"Excellent. Go and fetch her," Dunworthy told her. "I want her to tell Mr. Gilchrist how ridiculous he's being. This virus cannot possibly have come through the net."
The nurse stamped out.
"If your protesters are too ignorant to understand the laws of physics," Dunworthy said, "surely they can understand the simple fact that this was a drop. The net was only open to 1320, not from it. Nothing came through from the past."
"If that is the case, then Ms. Engle is not in any danger, and it will do no harm to wait for the sequencing."
"Not in any danger? You don't even know where she is!"
"Your tech obtained the fix, and indicated the drop was successful and that there was minimal slippage," Gilchrist said. He rolled down his sleeve and carefully buttoned the cuff. "I'm satisfied Ms. Engle is where she's supposed to be."
"Well, I'm not. And I won't be until I know Kivrin made it through safely."
"I see I must remind you again that Ms. Engle is my responsibility, not yours, Mr. Dunworthy." He donned his coat. "I must do as I think best."
"And you think it best to set up a quarantine around the laboratory to placate a handful of crackpots," he said bitterly. "There is also 'considerable public concern' that the virus is a judgment from God. What do you intend to do to maintain the good will of those townspeople? Resume burning martyrs at the stake?"
"I resent that remark. And I resent your constant interference in matters which do not concern you. You have been determined from the first to undermine Mediaeval, to keep it from gaining access to time travel, and now you are determined to undermine my authority. May I remind you that I am Acting Head of History in Mr. Basingame's absence, and as such — "
"What you are is an ignorant, self-important fool who should never have been trusted with Mediaeval, let alone Kivrin's safety!"
"I see no reason to continue this discussion," Gilchrist said. "The laboratory is under quarantine. It will remain so until we obtain the sequencing." He walked out.
Dunworthy started after him and nearly collided with Mary. She was wearing SPG's and reading a chart.
"You will not believe what Gilchrist's done now," he said. "A group of picketers convinced him the virus came through the net, and he's barricaded the laboratory."
She didn't say anything or even look up from the chart.
"Badri said this morning that the slippage figures can't be right. He said over and over, 'There's something wrong.'"
She looked up at him distractedly and back at the chart.
"I have a tech ready to read Kivrin's fix remotely, but Gilchrist's locked the doors," he said. You must talk to him, tell him the virus has been firmly established as originating in South Carolina."
"It hasn't."
"What do you mean, it hasn't? Did the sequencing arrive?"
She shook her head. "The WIC located their tech, but she's still running it. But her preliminary read indicates it's not the South Carolina virus." She looked up at him. "And I know it's not." She looked back at the chart. "The South Carolina virus had a zero morbidity rate."
"What do you mean? Has something happened to Badri?"
"No," she said, shutting the chart and holding it to her chest. "Beverly Breen."
He must have looked blank. He had thought she was going to say Latimer.
"The woman with the lavendar umbrella," she said, and sounded angry. "She died just now."
22 December 1320 (Old Style.) Agnes's knee is worse. It's red and painful (an understatement — she screams when I try to touch it) and she can scarcely walk. I don't know what to do — if I tell Lady Imeyne, she'll put one of her poultices on it and make it worse, and Eliwys is distracted and obviously worried.
Gawyn still isn't back. He should have been home by noon yesterday, and when he hadn't shown up by vespers, Eliwys accused Imeyne of sending him to Oxford.