Elizabeth's body had tensed at the first rap, and now she felt like a coiled spring. She looked into my eyes with her eyes, and I knew, deep down, deep down in the swimming
hole of my soul, that she was capable of lying to me, that she could put the barrel of her gun against my forehead and pull the trigger while telling me she loved me. Still, I wanted to believe her. No, I needed to believe her.
"No one. There are others in the Org who know about the place, but no one knows we're here." She slid her gun out, and I wondered if the barrel would be pressing against my forehead.
"Were you sitting on that?" I had not noticed any hardware during our cuddle session.
"Not really. Check the door, Jack." Her eyes left my face, scanning the interior of the little room, although she must have been here before, and would know every inch of it.
She moved to the wall on along the door and flattened her back against it. I moved to the door. If someone surprised me like I had my assassin at the Henderson's, she would take him or her out, quickly. Or me. Whatever the situation demanded, and had demanded. I knew that.
The knock sounded again; sharp, insistent, and demanding. I pressed the view panel button, and the camera on the outside showed the doorstep and a figure, and the face was looking directly into the invisible camera. It was Alton. I looked at Elizabeth and lifted my eyebrows. "Alton," I breathed out,
"Great," she muttered. "Well, we have to deal with him sooner or later. Open the door, Jack."
I opened the door about two or three inches. "Alton," I called. "If you have any weapons, show them, now. Put them down on the step below you." I closed the door. I watched him on the monitor; he removed a handgun from somewhere in his jacket, and a knife strapped inside his pants leg. He placed them on the step, and turned back to the camera, lifting his empty hands.
"Jack," he said, "Jack. That's it, I swear. Now listen to me. We have to trust each other. Where's Elizabeth?"
"I'm not sure she wants to talk to you, Alton."
Elizabeth spoke for herself. "Let him in, Jack, before someone sees him. We're close to compromising the integrity of this house."
I nodded. She was right. Alton on the doorstep, making a fuss of some sort, would give away the location of not just himself, but also to us, to whoever knew to make the connection. It wouldn't be difficult. I opened the door. "Come on in, Alton."
Alton entered, smiling. I seized him by the wrists, spun him around, and thrust him against the opposite wall. Elizabeth quickly closed the door. I ran my hand under Alton's coat and removed another handgun. "You missed one, Alton." I spun him around. He was still smiling.
"Now Jack. I carry that one so much I don't even think about it. I feel naked without it, and here I am in the presence of a lady. Wait a minute, we were married; does it still matter? No need to bother, I guess. But thanks for letting me in, old sock, it's getting a bit cool outside. I think it may frost."
Elizabeth offered him tea, and he sat down. I did the same, on the other side of the table, still holding his gun, and keeping it pointed directly at his heart. Alton sipped his tea and smiled again.
"Did you find Markus?"
Elizabeth and I looked at each. I answered. "No. He didn't show. Have you seen him?"
Alton looked thoughtful. "No. I wonder if I ever will again. If anyone will."
"You mean he's dead."
"Well, he may be wishing he was. The people we're dealing with play for keeps. It's a dangerous game, Jack. You too, Elizabeth. I'd hated to think of what they would do to your beautiful face."
Elizabeth touched her cheek.
Alton reached for more tea. "May I?"
I nodded.
"The squirrel project is nearly completed, Jack. If we're going to disrupt it, we have to do it quickly, while there's still time."
Elizabeth shook her head. "I still don't know whether to believe you. I don't even know whether to believe you're Alton or not."
Alton smiled again. "The Parrot Inn on Tobacco Caye."
Elizabeth blushed a deep, dark crimson and ducked her eyes. "Alright."
There was a quiet awkward moment and I felt some dangerous stir deep in my stomach.
"Right," I said.
Elizabeth lifted her head. "What can we do, Alton? Is it too late, or not, for everyone?"
So Alton filled her in; she heard the same story he had told me, and I had relayed to her. This time it was from his lips, though, and maybe that made all the difference. About the encased virus planted in the squirrels, and how it would grow and spread, all the while its true purpose lying dormant, until the hundredth generation. Now we were at the point, and the virus was ready to make the leap to human beings.
"The virus is encased," he explained. "It's dormant in the host, any host, until the generational marker is reached. It can reproduce, and spread, but its function is not enabled until that marker is reached."
Elizabeth fiddled with her wedding ring. "Alright. So the virus is nearly ready to mutate and activate within the squirrel population. How widespread in the wild is it, and is it at the same generational level in all squirrels?"
Alton looked at me. "Jack, could you get me a drink of water?"
"I think you're capable of getting your own drink," I said, "And besides, I might put something in it. There are sealed bottles in the frig, there."
Alton nodded, strode across the room and retrieved a bottle of water for himself. Returning to the seating area, he spun the top off and bounced it among his fingers, like a magician manipulating a coin.
"Anything to draw attention to yourself, huh Alton? We're all impressed."
The swift glance from Alton was murderous. I saw Elizabeth blushing again. What in the world was going on?
"I'm going to answer you, Elizabeth. And Jack, it's good to see that the simple things still amuse you. The virus is at the penultimate stage; that is, penetration is not at one hundred percent. By definition, I suppose that's impossible. But it's so close, on a global level, that it really doesn't make any difference. And yes, there is cross-contamination specificity; that is, when an fiftieth generation virus spreads to an uninfected animal, the next generational mutation in that animal is the fifty-first. The contamination is, then, evenly dispersed throughout the species. They will all weaponize at the same time."
"Good planning," I muttered.
"The very best," Alton said. "Once the virus crosses to humans, the process begins again, but the larger body mass of the human being will accelerate the process. Different generations may be hosted in the same body, but the virus will continue to mutate at the same disperse. One person will not be infected at a twentieth generation, and another at
twenty-first. The encasing specificity was designed so that the activation would be as simultaneous as possible."
"What is the transmission route?" Elizabeth asked. "Human beings don't usually, as a group, come into contact with living squirrels. So how does the virus make the leap? Is it airborne?"
Alton sipped his water. "Multiple paths. Airborne, contact with contacted items, and other ways I don't even understand. But you must realize that the leap will be simultaneous, in many places, around the globe, but at the same moment in time. The virus is shed constantly, and continues to mutate based on its programming until it finds a host. The virus is programmed to seek out an appropriate host, in the shortest amount of time. The leap will happen. Quicker than we can imagine."
I went to the frig and brought back a water for myself and Elizabeth. The smug cad had not thought to be gallant, but that, too, was like him.
"Okay, Alton. We're all going to be infected by squirrels. But what does the virus do? Kill us? Or make us really like nuts?"
Alton finished his water. "Nothing fatal. Making people dead is very easy, you know. Well, maybe not as easy as the two of you thought a few years ago. But still, the vast majority of people cling to life by a fragile thread, and severing it is not difficult, if it needs done to advance some cause. No, death is easy; control is hard. And control is what this all about. Compliance. The virus disrupts, then destroys the portion of the brain involving free will."
"So you wind up with the dictator's dream. A perfectly subservient population. Diabolical!"
Elizabeth drank her water. "Once people realize what's going on, they're find an antidote. The mutation of a hundred generations has to take time; there will be people going to doctors, tests run, vaccines." She shook her head. "Some people are going to get hurt. Maybe a lot. But it won't work."
Alton smiled and wiped his mouth. "Your reasoning is as faultless as your skin, Elizabeth, but your conclusion is off the mark. Yes, people will realize something is happening, and clamor for the government to provide a fix. They always do. That's being counted on. The vaccine is already developed and ready for distribution around the world. And when the people demand it, they'll be given it. But the vaccine is the virus, encased in the penultimate shell. It will activate at the same time as the virus picked up in the wild."
I crushed my plastic bottle. "The squirrels are just a start, and a trigger. People are going to do this to themselves."
"That's the plan."
How does one go about starting a panic? If it's a crowd of women, just drop in a man with the looks of Corbin Bersen when he starred on L.A. Law, the voice of Sean Connery, and the smooth cool of the Dread Pirate Roberts. If it's a crowd of men, a Superbowl ticket tossed into the midst should have the same effect. But for the general public, there's nothing better than to make people want something, just prior to withholding it. It appeared the government, or someone in the government had engineered just such a crisis.
The virus made the leap just as Alton had send. We were still in the safe-house when the news broke of the first infections.
"Watch this."
I opened my eyes. Alton was standing beside my cot, and the television on the wall was turned on, and tuned to CNN. I don't usually watch CNN in the morning; their shows are too thin and entertainment oriented. The story was quick, and short, and Alton had to flip back on the DVR for me to catch the import. People all around the country, just a few here and there, but over the whole nation, hundreds. All of them had been taken to local hospitals in a semi-comatose state, and the symptoms were the same. The announcer gave the usual spiel; the government was working a solution, the best remedy was to wash your hands frequently, and there was no need to panic.
I knew from long experience that Suzy Snowflake on channel ten can't even predict an inch of snow without my entire city ransacking the storms for each loaf of bread, jug of milk, and every roll of toilet paper. I don't know why; maybe storms make people hungry for plain bread sandwiches and milk. The one sure way to start a panic was to advise people not to get into one.
I sat up. "Have you been up all night? Where's that squirrel?"
Alton used the remote to turn the television off. The news would just keep running the same story over and over, with speculative commentary in between. It was what all four twenty-four hour channels did. We knew more of what was going on than the media, anyway.
Alton answered me. "I got a little downtime, about four o'clock, The hundred mutation, and the jump, took place about six this morning. The jump was immediate. Most the of the people who are hospitalized were probably joggers encountering the virus in parks or trails."
I finished waking up. "Alton, it was must have been almost immediate. I thought we had a little time, a few weeks, even. How can it mutate that fast?"
"It probably isn't. These people may have been especially vulnerable, or maybe the whole story is a plant. There's no way to know. The important thing is the game has begun, and we're still lying in bed."
I turned and put my feet on the floor. It was cold. "We should have turned the heat on last night," I muttered, and went to the bathroom. Even Superman, I believe, had to do that once in a while.
Elizabeth had coffee on the burner when I returned. I felt a little bit more human, and the coffee finished the job. How Elizabeth looked so drop-dead gorgeous, just after getting up, and without her usual array of beauty tools, was beyond me. "You look great," I said, between sips of the steaming, hot coffee. "And this is good coffee."
She smiled. "Did Alton tell you about our squirrel?"
I jerked my head up. I had forgotten the contaminated little creature was still around. "No. Where is it?"
"We have a containment unit here," she said. "I put it in there last night, just before I went to bed."
"And when was that?"
"About four."
"So. So." The last I remembered, it had been about two. "Did he drug me? Because I don't remember any of that."
"No. At least, I don't think so."
"So. Did the two of you catch up on things, then?"
Elizabeth stopped and put her cup down. "Are you jealous?"
"Should I be?"
"No. Of course not. Alton and I were a long time ago."
Alton came into the room. "She's right, old man. Besides, its hard to carry the torch for someone who tried to kill you. No offense, Elizabeth, but it is the truth.
A tall, richly built woman came into the room. Alton smiled. "May I introduce my assistant, Odval. She's been helping me each step of the way in this investigation and project. And, she's my wife."