Vinny and Daniel set up satellite and microwave dishes and other antennas on the mountaintop under cover of the trees, and some extra radar-scattering netting strategically placed to mask any overhead surveillance. The bunker entrance nearby was one of a dozen or so that led to various points on the mountain, providing access or escape for people on foot. By midweek everyone was taking sunlight breaks at least once a day at the nearest hatchway.
They also got all the internal telephones working, at each entrance and in all of the main rooms and offices. The phones weren’t connected to the outside world but were still useful for their work.
By the end of the week the lab equipment started arriving. Daniel risked going outside driving one of two trucks, following Vinh to pick up several large crates in Richmond. It was a great relief just to be up in the sunlight and out in the open, bouncing along the country roads down to the freeway feeders to the Virginia capital and back. He thought if he could do that once a week he might be all right.
Larry had taken off on his own the day after Zeke died, heading back to Atlanta. That gave Cassie enough time to set up a rudimentary anonymous webmail system with him, using free accounts for communication. As long as everyone stayed away from certain keywords like ‘Eden’ or ‘Plague’ or ‘Markis,’ everything should be fine. Computers might be able to look at every e-mail in America, but people couldn’t: they could only see what the software flagged. That was how to stay below the radar of the creeping Big Brother that America’s government had become since 9-11.
They decided to keep to a more or less similar week to the outside world, work five or six days but for sure take Sunday off. Everyone was pushing too hard. So it was on a Sunday afternoon right after the barbecue outside their best hatch that Daniel found Elise.
She had been sitting against the mountainside a couple of hundred yards up on a granite ledge. He remembered she liked it there. She gave a little wave when she saw him hiking up, but he didn’t smile.
“Elise…I need to talk to you,” he said awkwardly.
“I know. I mean, okay. Let’s talk.”
He took a deep breath, then sat down beside her, not touching. Staring out into space. “I need to know something first.”
“Sure.” She didn’t sound sure, even to herself.
“Can the EP be fixed? Really? Can the conscience-enhancing portion be overcome?”
Elise did a kind of double-take, as if he had asked her a completely unexpected question. She thought about the question for a minute. “Not easily. Not soon. It repairs cells. It repairs a lot of things. It balances processes. If you told it not to repair brain cells or processes – theoretically, I mean – then it wouldn’t repair nerve cells either. That would preclude a lot of other injuries getting fixed. But it’s more than just brain cells or neurons or axons or whatever. It’s the regulation of hormones and a thousand delicate neurological processes. The fact this thing works at all is a miracle, testimony to the creators’ work. They did amazing things with primitive technology.”
Daniel nodded. “If the Russians really did it. I’m still wondering about extraterrestrial influence.” He let a long breath out. “So the virtue effect is intrinsic. Impossible to separate from the advantages. That’s good, I think.”
Elise replied, “I’m not so sure it’s good, if we can’t defend ourselves. I think this imperfect Eden Plague will push some people into being puritans and pacifists and Pharisees. It’s falling off the horse the opposite way. You feel it yourself, don’t you? You risked lives back there on the island because you used nonlethal ammo, when one shot to the brain would have put Karl down for good. But you couldn’t do it. Is that good or bad? What’s the lesser of the evils?”
Daniel replied, “I don’t know. I’m glad I didn’t have to kill him, and I’m glad he didn’t kill anyone else. I don’t have any easy answers. We have to operate within the parameters we have right now. Maybe later you can tweak the virus to keep the reluctance-to-kill virtue without making it a vice.”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
Daniel rubbed his eyes, thinking. “Okay, then what about the hunger? The food needs? The excessive fertility?”
Elise let out a breath, as if she had been holding it. “That can be improved a lot easier, I think. Just time and money and research.”
Daniel nodded, thinking. They sat back against the granite, watching the puffy clouds, feeling the breeze through their jackets, smelling the sweet pine. He opened up a bag of trail mix and M&Ms, what backpackers called “gorp,” and set it on the rock between their thighs. A handful went into his mouth with a practiced flick. He took a deep breath. “Elise…” his voice trailed off.
“Yes. Go on, it’s okay.” Her tone was gentle.
“Elise,” he started again, “I care for you. I could call it something else but maybe it’s too soon. I think you care for me. But I think I’m in charge of this whole thing now and I need to think about bigger issues than just the two of us. That means I need to…to put aside at least that much turmoil. Oh, I’m not saying this very well, I’m making it sound like it’s a coldblooded decision.” He turned to her, to look in her eyes. “I just mean –”
She reached for him then, her lips for his. Relief flooded through Daniel’s body, relief that she had not rejected him. The kiss was magical, electric. He felt connected to her in a physical way, like a joining of their nervous systems, as if in that moment he could reach out his hands to her body right there on that breezy chilly mountainside, and it would be wonderful. But something stopped him, the thing that had begun to get in the way between them. A desire to do things better. To not screw this up the way he had screwed up his other relationships. He hadn’t given the two of them nearly as much thought as he had about the world-shaking implications of the Plague, and he felt embarrassed to have put her in second place. But dammit, wasn’t all of mankind more important than any two people? He gently broke the embrace, still holding her head in his hands. “Elise, we need to –”
“Shut up, Dan, and take me here,” she whispered huskily. “Right here and now. I can’t think of a more glorious place.”
He groaned, eyes squeezed together. “Elise, I want you too, so much. But I want to do it right.”
“Oh, we’re going to do it right all right.” She stared at him wide-eyed when he only chuckled, pained. “Okay. Do what?”
“You know. I mean…if we’re in love…if we love each other…”
“I do love you,” she said.
“I know. I mean, I mean, we should…make a commitment. Make it official.”
Elise sat back, obviously stunned. “You mean like, uh, married? Sure, I assumed we would, eventually. But a moment like this only comes along once in a while. Let’s take it while we can.” She reached for him again.
He held her gently away. “Elise, I…I…I made a promise. To be a better person. I keep my promises. And I mean, I’m not a real religious guy or anything but I just think…I want to be married to you before we…you know.” His voice dropped to a miserable whisper. “So maybe I won’t screw it up this time.”
She reached up to take his hand in both of hers. “I can’t argue with your enhanced conscience now, can I?”
“Don’t put this on the Eden Plague! That would mean it’s not really me. But after my divorce…I promised God I’d do everything right with the next woman in my life. I screwed up so many times.” His face begged her to understand.
She shook his hand between hers. “Well, I have to admire and respect you for sticking to your beliefs and promises, even if they’re not mine.” Her eyes crossed slightly as she thought it through, thought of a way around Daniel’s dilemma. “There won’t be any official marriage certificates or anything like that, right? We’re off the grid. So a marriage is just our commitment to each other.”
“It’s a commitment in front of witnesses.”