CHAPTER 98
Despite the flow of oxygen that passed through her respirator, Elizabeth Sinskey felt light-headed. Five minutes had passed since Brüder’s PCR devices had revealed the horrifying truth.
Our window for containment closed long ago.
The Solublon bag had apparently dissolved sometime last week, most likely on the opening night of the concert, which Sinskey now knew had been playing for seven nights straight. The few remaining shreds of Solublon attached to the tether had not disappered, only because they had been coated with an adhesive to help secure them to the tether’s clasp.
The contagion has been out for a week.
Now, with no possibility of isolating the pathogen, the SRS agents huddled over samples in the cistern’s makeshift lab and assumed their usual fallback position—analysis, classification, and threat assessment. So far, the PCR units had revealed only one solid piece of data, and the discovery surprised no one.
The virus was now airborne.
The contents of the Solublon bag had apparently bubbled up to the surface and aerosolized viral particles into the air. It wouldn’t take many, Sinskey knew. Especially in such an enclosed area.
A virus—unlike a bacteria or chemical pathogen—could spread through a population with astounding speed and penetration. Parasitic in their behavior, viruses entered an organism and attached to a host cell in a process called adsorption. They then injected their own DNA or RNA into that cell, recruiting the invaded cell, and forcing it to replicate multiple versions of the virus. Once a sufficient number of copies existed, the new virus particles would kill the cell and burst through the cell wall, speeding off to find new host cells to attack, and the process would be repeated.
An infected individual would then exhale or sneeze, sending respiratory droplets out of his body; these droplets would remain suspended in the air until they were inhaled by other hosts, and the process began all over again.
Exponential growth, Sinskey mused, recalling Zobrist’s graphs illustrating the human population explosion. Zobrist is using the exponential growth of viruses to combat the exponential growth of people.
The burning question now, however, was: How would this virus behave?
Coldly stated: How will it attack its host?
The Ebola virus impaired the blood’s ability to coagulate, resulting in unstoppable hemorrhaging. The hantavirus triggered the lungs to fail. A whole host of viruses known as oncoviruses caused cancer. And the HIV virus attacked the immune system, causing the disease AIDS. It was no secret in the medical community that, had the HIV virus gone airborne, it could have been an extinction event.
So what the hell does Zobrist’s virus do?
Whatever it did, the effects clearly took time to reveal themselves … and nearby hospitals had reported no cases of patients showing symptoms that were out of the ordinary.
Impatient for answers, Sinskey moved toward the lab. She saw Brüder standing near the stairwell, having found a faint signal for his cell phone. He was speaking to someone in hushed tones.
She hurried over, arriving just as he was finishing his call.
“Okay, understood,” Brüder said, the look on his face expressing an emotion between disbelief and terror. “And once again, I cannot stress strongly enough the confidentiality of this information. Your eyes only at this point. Call me when you know more. Thanks.” He hung up.
“What’s going on?” Sinskey demanded.
Brüder blew out a slow breath. “I just spoke to an old friend of mine who is a top virologist at the CDC in Atlanta.”
Sinskey bristled. “You alerted the CDC without my authorization?”
“I made a judgment call,” he replied. “My contact will be discreet, and we’re going to need far better data than we can get from this makeshift lab.”
Sinskey glanced over at the handful of SRS agents who were taking water samples and huddling over portable electronics. He’s right.
“My CDC contact,” Brüder continued, “is standing in a fully equipped microbiology lab and has already confirmed the existence of an extremely contagious and never-before-seen viral pathogen.”
“Hold on!” Sinskey interjected. “How did you get him a sample so fast?”
“I didn’t,” Brüder said tautly. “He tested his own blood.”
Sinskey needed only a moment for the meaning to register.
It’s already gone global.