For a moment Pitt contemplated hiding inside the building the way Harlan had done, but he dismissed the idea. After all, Jesse’s van was sitting right there in plain sight.
The vehicle pulled into the station. Pitt wasn’t sure it was Cassy until she opened the door and called out to him. The windows were heavily tinted.
Pitt got to the vehicle in time to help Cassy down. She was coughing and her eyes were red-rimmed.
“Maybe you shouldn’t get too close,” Cassy said in a deeply nasal voice. “We don’t know for sure whether this can spread person to person like an infection.”
Ignoring her comment, Pitt enveloped her in an enthusiastic embrace. The only reason he let go of her was concern about her getting the antibody.
“I brought some of the medicine I mentioned on the Internet with me,” Pitt said. “Obviously we think it is best to get it into your system as soon as possible and that means intravenous.”
“Where should we do it?” Cassy asked.
“In the van,” he said.
They walked around the vehicle to its slider.
“How are you feeling?” Pitt asked.
“Terrible,” Cassy admitted. “I couldn’t get comfortable in that four-by-four; the ride is so stiff. All my muscles ache. I’ve also got a fever. A half hour ago I was shivering, if you can believe it in this heat.”
Pitt opened the van door. He had Cassy lie down on the van’s seat. He prepared the syringe, but then, after putting on the tourniquet, he admitted his inexperience at venipuncture.
“I don’t want to hear it,” Cassy said, looking off in the opposite direction. “Just do it. I mean, you’re going to be a doctor.”
Pitt had seen medication administered IV thousands of times but never had tried it himself. The idea of puncturing another person’s skin was daunting, much less a person he loved. But the consequences of not doing it overwhelmed any timidity he had. Ultimately it went well, and Cassy told him as much.
“You’re just being a good sport,” Pitt said.
“No, really,” Cassy said. “I hardly felt it.” No sooner had she complimented him than she had an explosive bout of coughing that left her gasping.
Pitt was momentarily terrified she was having a reaction to the shot as Harlan had warned. Although Pitt had had CPR training, he’d never actually done that, either. Anxiously he held her wrist to feel her pulse. Thankfully it stayed strong and regular.
“Sorry,” Cassy managed when she could get her breath.
“Are you okay?” Pitt asked.
Cassy nodded.
“Thank God!” Pitt said. He swallowed to relieve a dry throat. “You stay here on the backseat. We’ve got about a twenty-minute drive.”
“Where are we going?” Cassy asked.
“To a place that’s like an answer to a prayer,” Pitt said. “It’s an underground lab built to deal with a biological or chemical warfare attack. It’s perfect for what we have to do. I mean, if we can’t do it there, then we can’t do it. It’s that good. Plus it has a sick bay where we can take care of you.”
Pitt started to climb into the front seat when Cassy took hold of his arm. “What if this antibody doesn’t work?” she said. “I mean, you warned me it was weak and very preliminary. What will you do with me if I turn into one of them? I don’t want to jeopardize what you all are doing.”
“Don’t worry,” Pitt said. “There’s a doctor there named Harlan McCay who was stung and is still fine after getting the antibody. But if worst comes to worst, there are what he calls containment rooms. But everything is going to be fine.” Pitt gave her shoulder a pat.
“Save the clichés, Pitt,” Cassy said. “With everything that has happened, it can’t turn out fine.”
Pitt shrugged. He knew she was right.
Pitt got behind the wheel, started the van, and pulled out into the road. Cassy remained lying on the backseat. “I hope there’s some aspirin where we’re going,” she said. She was as sick as she’d ever felt in her life.
“I’m sure there is,” Pitt said. “If the sick bay is like the rest of the place, it’s got everything.”
They rode in silence for a few miles. Pitt was concentrating on the driving for fear of missing the turnoff. On his way out he’d built a small cairn of rocks to mark it, but now he was afraid it wouldn’t help. The rocks had been small and everything was the same color.
“I can’t help but worry that my coming here was a bad idea,” Cassy said after another coughing spell.
“Don’t talk that way!” Pitt said. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“It’s been more than six hours now,” Cassy said. “Maybe even more. I wasn’t all that sure of the time when I was stung. So much has been happening.”
“What happened to Nancy and Jesse?” Pitt asked. It was a question he’d avoided, but he wanted to change the subject.
“Nancy was stung,” Cassy said. “They infected her in my presence. I couldn’t figure out why they didn’t do it to me until later. Jesse was a different story. I believe the same thing happened to him as to Eugene. But I’m not sure. I didn’t see it. I just heard it, and there was a flash of light. Nancy said it was the same as before.”
“Harlan thinks those black discs can create miniature black holes,” Pitt said.
Cassy shuddered. The idea of disappearing down a black hole seemed like the epitome of destruction. Even one’s atoms would be gone from the universe.
“I saw Beau again,” Cassy said.
Pitt turned to glance at Cassy before looking back at the road. It was the last thing he expected her to say.
“How was he?” Pitt asked.
“Horrid,” Cassy said. “And he’s changed visibly. He’s mutating progressively. Last time I saw him it was only a patch of skin behind his ear. Now it’s most of his body. It’s strange because the other infected people didn’t seem to be changing. I don’t know if they will or if it has something to do with Beau being the first. He’s definitely a leader. They all do what he wants.”
“Did he have anything to do with your being stung?” Pitt asked.
“I’m afraid so,” Cassy said. “He did it himself.”
Pitt shook his head imperceptibly. He couldn’t believe that his best friend could do such a thing, but then again he was no longer his best friend. He was an alien.
“The most horrid part for me was that there was still some of the old Beau inside,” Cassy said. “He even told me that he missed me and that he loved me. Can you believe it?”
“No,” Pitt said simply, while fuming that Beau, even as an alien, was still trying to take Cassy away from him.
BEAU WAS STANDING TO THE SIDE IN THE SHADOWS BEHIND the command control unit of the Gateway. His eyes were glowing fiercely. It was hard for him to concentrate on the problems at hand, but he had to. Time was running out.
“Maybe we should try to charge some of the electrical grids again,” Randy called over to Beau. Randy was sitting at the controls. A minor glitch had developed, and as of yet, Beau had not suggested a solution.
Yanked from a daydream about Cassy, Beau tried to think. The problem from the beginning had been to create enough energy to turn the powerful, instantaneous gravity of a group of black discs working in concert into antigravity and still have the Gateway stay together. The reaction would only have to last a nanosecond as it sucked matter from a parallel universe into the current one. Suddenly the answer came to Beau; more shielding was needed.
“All right,” Randy said, pleased to get some direction. He in turn alerted the thousands of workers who immediately swarmed back up into the superstructure on the gigantic construct.
“Do you think this will work?” Randy called over to Beau.
Beau communicated that he thought it would. He advised to power up all the electrical grids for an instant as soon as the augmented shielding was completed.
“What worries me is that you told me the first visitors are due tonight,” Randy said. “It would be a calamity i
f we weren’t ready. The individuals would be lost in the void as mere primary particles.”
Beau grunted. He was more interested that Alexander had entered the room. Beau watched him approach. Beau didn’t like the vibrations. He could tell they hadn’t found her.
“We followed her spoor,” Alexander reported. He purposefully stayed out of Beau’s reach. “It led us to where she’d taken a vehicle. Now we’re looking for the vehicle.”
“You will find her!” Beau snarled.
“We will find her,” Alexander repeated soothingly. “By now her consciousness should be expanding, and that will help us a great deal.”
“Just find her,” Beau said.
“YOU KNOW, I DON’T HAVE ANY EXPLANATION, SHEILA said.
She and Harlan were seated on laboratory stools on wheels that allowed them to zip from bench to bench.
Harlan had his chin cradled in his hand and was chewing the inside of his cheek. It was a habit he’d developed that indicated he was deep in thought.
“Could we have done something stupid?” Sheila asked.
Harlan shook his head. “We’ve been over our protocol several times. It wasn’t technique. It has to be a real finding.”
“Let’s go over it once again,” Sheila said. “Nancy and I had taken a tissue culture of human nasopharyngeal cells and added the enabling protein.”
“What was the vehicle for the protein?” Harlan asked.
“Normal tissue culture medium,” Sheila said. “The protein is fully soluble in an aqueous solution.”
“All right, what next?” Harlan said.
“We simply let the culture incubate,” Sheila said. “We could tell that the virus had been activated because of the rapid synthesis of DNA over and above what was needed for cell replication.”
“How did you assay that?” Harlan asked.
“We used inactivated adenovirus to carry DNA probes labeled with fluorescein into the cells.”
“What next?” Harlan asked.
“That was as far as we got,” Sheila said. “We put the cultures aside to incubate further, hoping to get viruses.”
“Well, you got them all right,” Harlan said.
“Yeah, but look at this image. Under the scanning electron microscope the virus looks like it’s been through a miniature meat grinder. This virus is noninfective. Something killed it, but there was nothing in the culture capable of doing that. It doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t make sense, but my gut instinct is that it is trying to tell us something,” Harlan said. “We’re just too stupid to see it.”
“Maybe we should just try it again,” Sheila said. “Maybe the culture got too hot riding in the car.”
“You’d packed it well,” Harlan said. “I don’t think that’s the answer. But fine, let’s do it again. Also, I have some mice that I have been infecting. I suppose we could try to isolate the virus from them.”
“Great idea!” Sheila said. “That might be even easier.”
“Don’t count on it,” Harlan said. “The infected mice are amazingly strong and incredibly smart. I have to keep them apart and under lock and key.”
“Good Lord,” Sheila said. “Are you suggesting the mice are becoming alien too?”
“I’m afraid that’s right,” Harlan said. “In some form or fashion. My supposition is that if there were enough infected mice all in one location they could collectively act as an intelligent, single individual.”
“Maybe we better stick to tissue cultures for the time being,” Sheila said. “One way or the other we’ve got to isolate live, infective virus. It has to be the next step if we’re going to do anything about this infestation.”
The hiss of the air lock pressurizing sounded.
“That must be Pitt,” Jonathan shouted. He ran out to the air lock door and peered through the porthole. “It is Pitt, and Cassy is with him!” he shouted back to the others.
Harlan picked up a vial of newly extracted monoclonal antibody. “I think I’d better put on my physican hat for a little while,” he said.
Sheila reached out and motioned for him to give her the vial. “Emergency medicine is my specialty,” she said. “We need you as the immunologist.”
Harlan handed it over. “Gladly,” he said. “I’ve always been a better researcher than clinician.”
The air lock opened. Jonathan helped Cassy step through the hatch. She was pale and feverish. Jonathan’s excitement moderated. She was sicker than he’d realized. Still, he couldn’t help but ask where his mother was.
Cassy put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said. “We were separated very quickly after we were caught in the supermarket. I don’t know where she is.”
“Was she stung?” Jonathan asked.
“I’m afraid so,” Cassy said.
“Come on!” Sheila said. “We have work to do.” She put Cassy’s arm over her shoulder. “Let’s get you into the infirmary.”
With Sheila on one side and Pitt on the other they walked Cassy through the lab to the sick bay. She was introduced to Harlan en route. He held open the door for them.
“I think it best if she occupies one of the containment rooms,” Harlan said. He pushed past the group and led the way.
The room looked like a regular hospital room except for its entrance, which had an air lock so the room could be kept at a lower pressure than the rest of the complex. The inner door was also lockable and the glass in the porthole was an inch thick.
Everyone crowded into the room. With help from both Sheila and Pitt, Cassy stretched out on the bed and sighed with relief.
Sheila went right to work. With practiced deftness she started an IV, then gave a sizable dose of the monoclonal antibody. She injected it into the intravenous port on the IV line.
“Did you have any adverse reaction to the first shot?” Sheila asked as she momentarily sped up the IV to carry the last of the antibody into Cassy’s system.
Cassy shook her head.
“There was no problem,” Pitt said. “Except for a coughing spell which scared me. But I don’t think it was related to the medication.”
Sheila attached Cassy to a cardiac monitor. The beats were normal and the rhythm regular.
“Have you felt any different since that first shot?” Harlan asked.
“Not that I can tell,” Cassy said.
“That’s not surprising,” Sheila said. “The symptoms are mainly from your own lymphokines, which we know shoot up in the early stages.”
“I want to thank you all for letting me come here,” Cassy said. “I know you are taking a risk.”
“We’re glad to have you,” Harlan said, giving her knee a squeeze. “Who knows, like me you may be a valuable experimental subject.”
“I wish,” Cassy said.
“Are you hungry?” Sheila asked.
“Not in the slightest,” Cassy said. “But I could certainly use some aspirin.”
Sheila looked at Pitt. “I think I’ll turn that over to Dr. Henderson,” she said with a wry smile. “Meanwhile the rest of us have to get back to work.”
Harlan was the first to leave. Sheila paused with one leg into the air lock. Looking back she waved to Jonathan. “Come on. Let’s leave the patient to her doctor.”
Jonathan reluctantly followed.
“You were right,” Cassy said. “This place is unbelievable.”
“It’s just what the doctor ordered,” Pitt said. “Let me get you that aspirin.”
It took Pitt a few minutes to find the pharmacy and a few more to locate the aspirin. When he returned to the confinement room, he found that Cassy had been sleeping.
“I don’t want to bother you,” Pitt said.
“No bother,” Cassy said. She took the aspirin, then lay back. She patted the bedside. “Sit down for a minute,” she said. “I’ve got to tell you what I learned from Beau. This nightmare is about to get worse.”
THE TRANQUILITY OF THE DESERT WAS SUDDENLY SHATTERED by the repetitive
concussion of the rotor blades and the roar of the Huey military jet engine as the copter swept low across the barren landscape. Inside Vince Garbon held a pair of binoculars to his eyes. He’d told the pilot to follow a strip of black tarmac that cut across the sand from horizon to horizon. In the backseat were two former police officers from Vince’s old unit.
“The last word we have is that the vehicle came out this road,” Vince shouted to the pilot over the sound of the engine. The pilot nodded.
“I see something coming up,” Vince said. “It looks like an old gas station, but there’s a vehicle and it fits the description.”
The pilot slowed the forward progress. Vince held the binoculars as steady as he could.
“Yup,” he said. “I think it’s the one. Let’s go down and have a look.”
The helicopter lowered to the earth, kicking up a horrendous swirl of sand and dust in the process. When the skids were firmly on the ground, the pilot cut the engine. The heavy rotors slowed and came to a stop. Vince climbed out of the cab.
The first thing Vince checked was the vehicle. He opened the door and could immediately sense that Cassy had been in it. He looked in the luggage space. It was empty.
Motioning toward the building, the two former policemen went inside. Vince stayed outside and let his eyes roam around the horizon. It was so hot that he could see heat rising in the air.
The policemen came out quickly and shook their heads. She wasn’t in there.
Vince motioned back to the copter. He was close. He could sense it. After all, how far could she get on foot in that heat?
PITT CAME INTO THE LAB. EVERYONE WAS WORKING SO intently that they didn’t even raise their heads.
“She’s finally sleeping,” he said.
“Did you lock the outer door?” Harlan asked.
“No,” Pitt said. “Do you think I should?”
“Absolutely,” Sheila said. “We don’t want any surprises.”
“I’ll be right back,” Pitt said. He returned to the air lock and looked in at Cassy. She was still sleeping peacefully. Her coughing had significantly abated. Pitt locked the door.
Returning to the lab, he took a seat. Again no one acknowledged him. Sheila was engrossed, inoculating tissue cultures with the enabling protein. Harlan was extracting more antibody. Jonathan was at a computer terminal wearing earphones and working a joystick.