He ignored her jab and replied, "I'm flattered that you, um, have heard of me," although his tone sounded anything but modest.
"I'm an environmentalist," she said, drawing a distinction. "I've researched alternative energy, taken measurements of the Himalayan glaciers, and prepared a paper on overfishing for a United Nations investigation. I have done serious work to help fight some of these problems. That's opposed to writing a bunch of inflammatory nonsense and helping to paint people in the green movement as whackos."
"Sounds to me like you have wasted your time," their host berated her resume. "I used to think like that, but I've taken things to the next logical step."
"Logical? You call what happened on Tioga logical?" Gant burst out.
"Yes, very much so," he said, and this time Terrance Monroe found some strength in his voice, sort of like the nerdy kid finally snapping on his tormentors, albeit with a strong dose of righteousness.
"Look around you, Major. Do you think the problem is global warming? Do you think toxic waste dumps, air pollution, or water pollution can be combatted? They are symptoms of the bigger issue. The world's population is spiraling out of control. Natural resources like drinking water and, yes, fossil fuels are shrinking fast. Deforestation is stripping away the very means by which the Earth cleanses the air. We are losing arable land. Soil pollution, even noise and light pollution, are ruining our quality of life."
Gant pounced: "So this is what this is all about? Population control? Are you kidding me? And this is your solution? People like you always complain about factories and toxic waste but you're the first ones in line for the new smart phone and you're probably jetting around the globe in your personal airplane. You are a hypocrite."
"No, Major, I am not a hypocrite," Monroe said, standing and holding his personal phone in the air. "I love technology. In fact, technology is the answer to solving our problems. Don't mistake me for some dreamer who thinks we should go back to horses and live off the land. I am a realist. Man must continue to advance. We must have energy, even fossil fuels. Chemical waste is a byproduct of modern manufacturing and can be tolerated, to a certain degree. The problem is how many people live on this planet and how those people either directly destroy the environment or — in meeting their needs — industry destroys that environment.
"The Earth's population is far exceeding the ability of the planet to provide. We can either do something now to reduce that population and save our civilization, or take impotent half-measures that only treat symptoms until the day comes that we are all finished."
"I cannot believe I am hearing this," Annabelle Stacy said. "This is preposterous. I just came from an island where people were killed and turned into walking dead. Now you're telling me that you made this happen as some sort of plan to save the planet? That you're going to release this infection to kill off population? Are you insane?"
"What would you prefer?" their host asked. "I know, an initiative to increase access to birth control. Education about family planning and resource management. Or how about something drastic, like spreading access to abortion and encouraging mothers to terminate their pregnancies?"
"There are answers," Stacy said. "But not murder or genocide. Those aren't answers. You sound like a killer in search of a motive to justify some kind of God fantasy. And you're hooked up with that man," she said, pointing her finger at the door in reference to Waters. "Do you even know who he is? He's a butcher. A sick, twisted man."
Monroe took a deep breath and conceded, "Yes, Dr. Waters has a checkered past. But he is a brilliant man and he helped bring us to this point. Without his expertise — and his willingness to use that expertise — we'd still be struggling to understand the organism and how best to implement it."
"Organism?" Gant asked. "What exactly is causing these people to get up and walk after they have been murdered?"
Monroe paused again, this time alternating his gaze between Stacy and Gant. Thom thought he saw a smile hovering around the man's lips, as if he itched to tell a big secret; as if they would be impressed by his revelation. He needed no coaxing. The man wanted the world to know how clever he was.
"A form of fungus."
Stacy replied very quickly, as if she had half-expected that answer: "Something based on Cordyceps, I'll bet." She turned to Gant and told him, "Cordyceps are endoparasitoids, You've probably heard of them because they are known to take control of insects, most famously ants. If a fungus is causing this, I have to believe it started out as Cordyceps."
"Yes, you would think that," Monroe answered just as quickly, as if he had anticipated her thought. Gant felt as if he were watching an intellectual tennis match as the two volleyed. "But you would be wrong. This fungus is unlike anything you've seen. It's been engineered as the perfect parasite."
"You created a new form of fungi?"
Monroe hesitated, as if trying to find the perfectly parsed answer.
Gant guessed, "You did not create it. Someone gave it to you."
"We did the work," the man defended. "We started with something crude and had to shape it, mold it, test it, and prepare—" Monroe stopped, realizing he was going way too far.
Stacy said, "So you bioengineered a parasitic fungus that grows inside the host. I've seen the tendrils. It's like the fungus is imitating body functions and taking control of the cadavers."
"This is the perfect tool for what we need to achieve," Monroe said, sounding as if he were quoting from a sales presentation he had put together for the project some time ago. "From a biological standpoint, we've achieved something beyond the means of current science."
"Making it harder to combat," Gant said.
Stacy added, "And when doctors find it's a fungi, they'll think Cordyceps, like I did. That gains you more time before someone finds a way to stop it."
"So who would give you the information to get this started? What government, Terrance? The Chinese? It could be the perfect weapon for knocking Taiwan down. Or maybe this could be introduced in South Korea so that the North could invade with ease."
"This isn't about politics, Major, but it is about war. A war of survival. A war we must win or we will perish as a species."
Stacy asked, "And you plan to do that? All on your own?"
"No, of course not," Monroe replied. Monroe's momentum carried him on, and in that instant Gant realized that Stacy had picked exactly the right moment to ask that question, because it was the one moment when their captor's arrogance and emotion would cause him to act — to reveal — without thinking. "The Global Health Protectorate was formed for exactly this reason. Nations, people, and organizations working together to address the root cause of all our problems."
Gant sat straight in his chair, eager to hear more, and Stacy leaned forward, waiting for their host's next words.
Monroe hovered over them, taking deep breaths and looking very much like a lecturing professor.
"This isn't a game. The world is dying. There is only a certain amount of time left to stop the damage and allow our species to live on, albeit in substantially fewer numbers. Someone has to stand up and do something. That's what I'm doing."
"And who is backing you, Terrance?" Gant pried in a soft voice. "No way you could fund something like this project with Internet donations and bake sales. Something like this has to be done with the help of a major power."
Monroe finally seemed to realize that he had said too much. He fell quiet for a moment and then sat back down and folded his hands on the desktop as if forcing himself to calm.