Julie looked down at her arms, then over at Ben’s. “You’re in the same boat, Ben. And besides, it doesn’t look like it’s gotten worse.”
Ben frowned. “You’re right,” he said as he scratched at his forearms. “This is about what it looked like before I got to the hospital.”
“Mine got a little worse while I was there,” Julie said, “but it hasn’t spread since then. Hey, what about you?” Julie looked at Malcolm.
“What about me?”
“You’re fine. No virus, no rash.”
Ben also turned to scrutinize the older man. “You have some explaining to do, Dr. Fischer. Showing up out of nowhere and telling me about that Dragonstone company. How’d you figure all this out?”
Malcolm sighed. “Yes, you are correct, Ms. Richardson. I have no rash, and I won’t get it. I believe the virus, while highly contagious, is non-recurring.”
“Non-recurring?”
“It means it won’t come back,” Julie said. “Like chickenpox.”
“But that means…”
“Right. It means I’ve already had the virus. I believe I was subjected to the virus six months ago, while I was comatose. I believe I contracted it then, as they were testing treatments for it. I’m not sure they succeeded, but I did overhear them say the virus had ‘run its course through my system,’ and that I was immune.”
Julie was bewildered. “What are you talking about?”
“Well,” Malcolm began, “about a year ago I was on a research trip with some students from my university, up in the Northwest Territory —”
“You’re that professor!” Julie said. “Those students…”
“I am. The team disappeared, and news agencies rode the media wave for months after we disappeared, but no one from the expedition was ever found, as you remember.”
Julie’s eyes were wide as Malcolm continued. “But it wasn’t an innocent accident, like many thought. We didn’t fall through a frozen lake or get eaten by bears. My students were murdered.”
This revelation took Ben by surprise as well. “Murdered? What do you mean?”
Malcolm swallowed, trying to summon the words. “I… I haven’t spoken of it since then, but… there was a helicopter. We’d made a discovery, and I assume one of the students was working against me. They must have alerted the murderers to our location, and what we found.
“It was a powdery substance, some sort of whitish powder that had the consistency of sand. And coins. Strange coins we’d never seen before. My guess is that they were tokens of some sort used by the indigenous tribe from that area, likely the same people who created the powder.”
“Created?” Julie asked.
“Yes, now that I’ve had time to think about it, I believe the powder was the remnants of a native plant, the decayed remains of the dried leaves. They may have used it during its original life, but after decaying and drying, and lying undisturbed for so many years…”
“You think it’s somehow related to the virus?”
“I believe it is the virus, at least in part,” Malcolm said. “Anyway, I’ll get there. So we found these things in a cave, but we did not get to excavate. When we got back to camp…”
“The helicopter,” Ben said.
Malcolm nodded, swallowing again. “Yes. The helicopter came, and took me with it. The rest of the students…”
He didn’t need to finish the sentence.
“Whatever company massacred my team must have cleaned up well. The search parties that went out found our tents and equipment all set up and staged miles away from our actual location. They left nothing that would have pointed to any suspicious activity.”
“But the whole thing was suspicious,” Julie said. “It was a big deal. Every news outlet in the country was reporting on it, and there were conspiracy theories about it too.”
“I know, I know. But like I said, the company did their job well.”
“You keep mentioning a company,” Ben said. “How do you know?”
Malcolm nodded. “They took me somewhere that had state-of-the-art medical facilities and questioned me. They didn’t torture me, as I doubt they thought I would ever leave the facility, but they weren’t satisfied that I knew next to nothing about this powder. They put me in a medically-induced coma, only bringing me out of it after months of being under.”
“My God,” Julie whispered.
“I did have plenty of time to think — it was odd, being in that state. I could sort of form thoughts and run through the things that I could remember, though it was a slower process than if I had been lucid. But it was when I was awake, or at least mostly awake, that I tried to piece together the information. The doctors working in my room each wore the same logo on their coats, and they worked in regular shifts — a large operation. Eventually, I caught a glimpse of the company’s name. ‘Drache Global.’”
“Drache?”
“Yes,” Malcolm said. “Drache Global. A pharmaceutical company, based in Canada. I’d never heard of them, but I promised myself that I would get out of there and figure out who they were. I had plenty of time, remember, as I was basically lying on a hospital bed for months. I formulated a plan, and I got out one night.” Malcolm looked at the wall, examining the lattice-shaped wallpaper.
Ben could tell there was more to the story behind the man’s escape, but he didn’t press him about it.
“I got out, and I ran. I ran for my life. I wanted to hide, but I wanted more than anything to right the wrongs done to my students and their families. I had to figure out what Drache Global was.”
“And did you?” Julie asked. Ben noticed she had placed a hand on Malcolm’s forearm on the table.
“Sort of. That’s what led me to the hospital you were brought to, Julie. Drache Global, like the hospital, is owned by a group of shareholders. It’s a corporate conglomerate. Publicly listed, but not easy to piece together who the real owners are. I researched and cross-referenced as many of their board members as I could manage, but found very few promising leads.
“I spent many hours in the depths of libraries and scouring the web, and all I was able to figure out was that they’re semi-legitimate, at least on the surface. They’ve worked on countless grant proposals, major nonprofit medical research projects, and more public goodwill campaigns than a politician. But I think there’s a simple thread connecting them to some other organizations with bipolar personalities.”
“What thread is that?” Julie asked.
“They have the same names,” Ben said.
“Yes,” Malcolm said, smiling. “Very good. Dragonstone, Drache Global, Drage Medisinsk. They are all very similar, using different languages that all mean ‘dragon.’”
“Why would they broadcast that? If they were trying to operate under the radar, why share a common name?” Julie asked.
“Plenty of companies borrow that name. It’s not particularly unique, even within the medical and pharmaceutical research industries. And I believe it’s more like a calling card. A brand, if you will.”
“So you think this ‘dragon’ company is working across its sister organizations to create a worldwide virus?” Ben asked. He scratched his forearms. While still itchy, it did in fact seem like the virus had slowed to a halt.
“No,” Malcolm answered. “I believe it’s the work of a handful of people, not a worldwide corporate effort. Secretive or not, I cannot believe something that large-scale could go unnoticed by world governments. I also believe they aren’t targeting the entire world, but the United States. Through the spreading virus, the bomb at Yellowstone…”
“Okay, but what’s the big deal about the bomb? Shouldn’t we focus first on the virus?” Julie asked, impatient. She dialed Randall Brown’s number again, but it was still off.