We would eventually unravel the mysteries of Capellaviridae—and of lurking viruses more generally. It would take more than a year for the pieces to fall into place, with many significant discoveries along the way. To the surprise of no one, Giscard was the lead author on the article that wove the intellectual strands into a coherent theory, though I think he deserved the credit for this one. In the end, we confirmed most of what we had hypothesized in the early days. Over the course of many millennia, the North American dust mite had turned Capellaviridae into an instrument for its own survival. The dust mite bite transmits the indolent form of Capellaviridae, which is essentially a flu virus with antibodies pre-attached. Eventually, as the indolent virus replicates, the proteins that render the virus harmless begin to detach, creating the more virulent form of the pathogen. Unless… more dust mite bites. Each bite transmitted more Capellaviridae—benign—as well as an enzyme that destroyed any of the viruses that had turned virulent. In other words, the best cure for a North American dust mite bite was more bites. That is how the dust mite made itself invaluable to humans.
“Fantastic!” Professor Huke exclaimed as I walked him through what we had learned. He had invited me to campus for a lunch with students. From an evolutionary standpoint, what we had discovered was fantastic. And it was consistent with the theory I first formulated while sitting at my dining room table: The North American dust mite effectively holds its human hosts hostages; as long as I’m fine, you’re fine. When humans tried to eradicate the dust mite, or when they moved away to an area without them (which from a biological perspective was the same thing), Capellaviridae turned dangerous.
Our discoveries paved the way for other important work. The enzyme the dust mite uses to eliminate the virulent form of Capellaviridae has enormous medical value. It is essentially a targeted assassin, which may transform some kinds of cancer treatment. Meanwhile, our “wiki science” has become a template for how cutting-edge research ought to be shared. We are now using more sophisticated platforms than Google Docs, and there is recognition that peer review is still an essential tool for validating work, but our Capellaviridae “war room” demonstrated the power of openness and collaboration. Last year the National Academy of Sciences promulgated a set of standards for sharing scientific work in parallel with the peer review process.
Some months after the dramatic Air India One flight, those of us who worked on the scientific effort during the Outbreak were invited to a small White House reception with the President. The event was postponed twice—once during the intervention in El Salvador and again when the First Lady had her cancer surgery. Eventually we gathered at the White House. The NIH team was there, along with the other principals who had been involved in the response: the Acting HHS Secretary (now retired), the Secretary of State, and so on. The President and First Lady welcomed each member of the team as we entered the East Room; the NIH Director stood at the President’s side, introducing each of us as we reached the front of the receiving line. “You remember our expert on lurking viruses,” the NIH Director said to the President as I stood in front of him, offering my hand.
“Of course I do,” the President said, looking down subtly at my name tag. “Thank you for your service.”
I moved along to the First Lady. “So nice to meet you,” she said. “The nation owes you a profound debt.” Jenna was right behind me. I waited for her as the First Lady said, “Thank you for your important work.”
Jenna was chuckling when she joined me. “Hah,” she said, “the President forgot your name.”
“No,” I replied with a smile. “He never knew it in the first place.”
Acknowledgments
I TYPICALLY WRITE NONFICTION—BOOKS ABOUT ECONOMICS and statistics and monetary policy. Bringing a novel to fruition was an entirely different undertaking. I am deeply appreciative of those people who guided me through this new process. As always, it has been a pleasure to work with W. W. Norton, a partnership that is approaching two decades. John Glusman steered me expertly through the new territory associated with fiction. His faith in the story and its characters made the book possible. Helen Thomaides is the one who made the production process run far more efficiently than the rest of my life. I owe a special debt to copyeditor Dave Cole and his remarkably careful eye. This is a complicated story that takes place in the future over a handful of days in multiple time zones. Dave was the one who made sure that the details were consistent and always supported the larger narrative.
I wrote this book while traveling around the world on a “family gap year” with my wife, Leah, and our three children. Leah is a remarkable partner in all that I do. She had the imagination and energy to make that family trip happen. She was the first person to read an early draft of this book—before there was even an ending. Her encouragement inspired me to keep going. Our children—Katrina, Sophia, and CJ—were fun and adventurous travel companions. If I am being honest, however, their primary contributions to this book were fits of teenage behavior that drove me to cafés and other isolated places where I was able to get a lot of writing done.
I showed up in New York at the end of our family gap year and informed my agent, Tina Bennett, that I had written a novel. (At least I did not present her with poetry or watercolor paintings.) She was remarkably supportive; as a result, we now have a book. Tina and I have brought a diverse array of projects to fruition. It has been a privilege to have her at my side along the way. And thankfully, Svetlana Katz has been at Tina’s side to round out a great team.
My day job is teaching public policy at the Rockefeller Center at Dartmouth College. (Anyone who did not see a lot of public policy themes in this book did not look hard enough.) Andrew Samwick is the one who brought me to the Rockefeller Center. He has encouraged my eclectic projects at every turn. He also made possible our year of traveling, which in turn made possible The Rationing. It is a joy and a privilege to be a part of the Rockefeller Center and to teach Dartmouth undergraduates.
I want to thank Joyce Gerstein, a family friend since I was in high school. For as long as I can remember, Joyce has worked at the Book Bin, an independent bookstore in Northbrook, Illinois, where I grew up. When my mother gave Joyce the manuscript, Joyce read it promptly and pronounced that it was a book she could sell. That was high praise coming from someone who loves books as much as she does; it also motivated me to move the project forward.
Thanks also to my mother, who gave the manuscript to Joyce without my permission. That’s exactly the kind of thing mothers are supposed to do.
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Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.