Frank knew it wasn’t fortuitous. It had been orchestrated from the start.
“I’m hoping you can all work together to expedite our research.” Nolan waved a hand toward a woman who approached more cautiously. “Including Dr. Charlotte Girard. She’s been caring for our newest and youngest patient, who hopefully will shed further light on the disease’s progress.”
Frank glanced to Monk, who gave a small nod of acknowledgment. Here were the two kidnapped doctors. Both thankfully alive. It was a small blessing in an otherwise miserable circumstance.
“Let’s join Dr. Ngoy.” Nolan marched them all toward the clinical lab in back. “We should all listen to his briefing.”
Only Frank overheard the woman at his side. “About fucking time,” she muttered in French, as she scowled toward the knot of clinicians in the cordoned-off lab.
Despite everything, he could not stop a small smile. He appreciated both her attitude and her frustrated fury. He felt the same.
They reached the back of the ward and ducked through the translucent curtain into a pristine, small lab. He quickly assessed the rows of microscopes, blood analyzers, cell counters, even the polyacrylamide gel electrophoresis equipment for analyzing DNA. He also noted with a pique of anger that much of his own lab equipment had been hauled and dumped here from the university. That included his laptop that ran his customized bioinformatic software. So far, it looked like no one had bothered touching any of it.
Nolan waved to a skinny Congolese clinician. “This is Dr. Ngoy, the head of our facility.”
The man joined them. He stood a head shorter than Frank, but he carried himself as if he towered over everyone. Behind his face shield, the man’s lips were etched in lines of perpetual disdain. With a glance, Frank knew his type, someone with a clear Napoleon complex.
Dr. Girard crossed her arms and glared at him. Clearly Ngoy held her in no better regard, all but shoving past her to join them. The only one the clinician showed any respect toward was his boss, Nolan De Coster, but even that deference looked like it took effort.
“Sir,” Ngoy said stiffly, “I think we’ve made some significant progress today.”
“Wonderful. Perhaps you can share what you’ve learned with our new guests.”
Ngoy glanced Frank and Monk up and down. “Of course,” he said, looking none too happy.
Still, the man knew better than to disobey. He led them to a computer monitor. Tapping for a few moments, he brought up an EM image of a raft of virions.
Frank stiffened, immediately recognizing the mass of octagonal structures stitched together by their spiked surfaces. He pushed closer. “I just isolated the same virus from a group of army ants. But I couldn’t be certain if the virus was normal for the species or if it was pathogenic.” He glanced past the edge of the monitor toward the row of cots. “I had wanted patient samples to confirm what I found.”
Nolan’s brows lifted. “Truly? You isolated this culprit in less than a day?”
“In under four hours,” Monk corrected.
Nolan eyed Ngoy. “It took our team over a week to do the same.”
This admission drew a glower from the researcher, his ire aimed at Frank. Still, Ngoy cleared his throat, his back straightening with pride. “That may be so, but today we were able to determine the origin of this virus, where it came from, specifically its original host.”
Frank had wondered this from the beginning. The virus had to come from somewhere, spilling over from its natural host into the larger world, where it ultimately proved pathogenic. “What animal did it come from?”
Ngoy gave a small sneer of satisfaction. “It wasn’t any animal.”
“Then what?” Frank asked.
“It was a plant.”
6:03 P.M.
Charlotte noted the shocked look on the American virologist’s face. She spoke into the stunned silence. “A plant?” she asked. “Is that even possible? Are you saying this virus came from some tree or bush?”
“Or possibly a tree fungus,” Ngoy acknowledged. “We finished analyzing the virus’s genetic code, which took longer than we’d hoped due to its 2,236 genes.”
“That many?” Frank looked concerned. “That would make this virus one of the largest giants ever discovered.”
Charlotte frowned at this statement. A giant virus?
Ngoy ignored the American and kept his focus on his boss. “A significant swath of the virus’s genome remains unknown and unclassifiable, but a large percentage—and what appears to be the oldest—is shared by both fungal species and ancient tree ferns, possibly tracing as far back as prehistoric Cladoxylopsids. They were a fernlike group of giant trees that went extinct millions of years ago, leaving only petrified stumps behind. They’re considered by many to be the first trees.”
Charlotte shook her head. “But how did you trace this virus’s genome to an extinct species?”
Ngoy sighed as if exasperated. Still, his eyes shone brighter. He was clearly proud of his work and excited to elaborate. “Because Cladoxylopsid’s genetic descendants exist today. In modern ferns and horsetails. We were able to use recombination clocks to determine that the genes in this virus are far older than anything found in today’s living species.”
“So, the virus traces back to ancient trees,” Nolan mumbled. “Or maybe a fungus tied to those trees.”
“It appears so,” Ngoy said. “But I’d like to map out a phylogenetic tree and perform a Bayesian analysis to make certain.”
Charlotte interrupted. She had a more pressing question as she glanced across the ward to the row of patients. “That’s all well and good. But I thought plant viruses couldn’t be passed to animals, let alone humans.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” Frank said. “We know three families of viruses—Bunyaviridae, Reoviridae, Rhabdoviridae—that infect humans, animals, and plants. Even the mottle virus from pepper plants can cause fevers and itching in people. Still, such instances are rare. Most plant viruses lack the biochemical key to replicate in mammalian cells. But when it comes to the ingenuity of viruses to evolve and survive, I don’t put anything past them.”
Charlotte’s stomach churned at this thought, but Frank was not done.
“If Dr. Ngoy’s team is correct in their supposition, then we have a bigger problem.”
“What’s that?” Jameson asked next to her, his voice squeaking with nervousness. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve spent most of my career studying the zoonotic spread of diseases from animals to humans. It’s bad enough when a virus passes from its natural host to another. From mammal to mammal. From avian to human. Basically when it leaps from one branch of the evolutionary tree to another. But here we’re talking about a virus leaping from plants to us. That’s an entirely different story. That’s a leap from one trunk of that evolutionary tree to another.”
Frank glanced around the group, letting that sink in, then continued. “It could mark a disaster like no other. It’s no wonder this virus seems capable of infecting so many species. Insects, like the ants. Mammals, like the baboons.” He waved toward the medical ward. “And us, of course.”
Charlotte swallowed, her blood going cold. “You’re thinking it could infect nearly every living creature.”
Frank shrugged. “It seems like it’s already doing that.”
For the first time, the implacable Nolan De Coster looked glassy-eyed and worried. He stared unblinking at the computer screen. Clearly, his plan to use this pandemic to wrest control of the Congo now appeared not just callous and risky, but possibly apocalyptic.
Charlotte refused to let this new knowledge immobilize her, to drive her into a black hole of despair. She stared over at Disanka as the woman cradled her son. She needed information that was more practical and useful.