glittering, and outraged. “You know what you're telling me, Doctor? A cure for a fatal and unknown virus? Not a vaccine, but a cure?”
“That is the only reasonable explanation.”
“Curative antiserum?”
“That would be the best possibility.”
“It would also mean those so-called U.N. doctors had the material in quantity.”
“Yes.”
Jon's words spilled out in a rush: “A serum in quantity for a virus that first broke out in Iraq's six cases last year and then mysteriously reappeared a little more than a week ago in six more cases halfway around the world, in America. And all twelve victims had served on the Iraq-Kuwait border during the war or had a transfusion from someone who'd served on the border.”
“Precisely.” The pediatrician nodded vigorously. “In two countries where the virus had never existed.”
The two medical doctors faced each other across a great silence, both reluctant to say the next sentence.
But Randi could. “It's not remarkable. It's not even a miracle.” They turned to stare at her as she spoke the unspeakable: “Someone gave all of them the virus.”
It sickened Jon. “Yes, while only half were given the serum. It was a controlled, lethal experiment on humans who were uninformed and gave no consent.”
The pediatrician paled. “It reminds me of the depraved Nazi doctors who used concentration camp inmates for guinea pigs. Obscene. Monstrous!”
Randi stared at her. “Who were they?”
“Did any of those doctors with the serum tell you their names, Dr. Mahuk?” Jon asked.
“They gave no names. They said helping the men could get them into trouble with our regime and with their supervisors in Geneva. But I am sure they were lying. There was no way they could have entered Iraq and worked at that particular military hospital without the government's knowing.”
“How, then? A bribe?”
“A large bribe in some form to Saddam himself, I would guess.”
Randi asked, “You don't think they were from the U.N. at all, do you?”
The pediatrician shook her head nervously. “I should have seen the natural conclusion before. It is the problem with today. Just to live is a battle, and so we miss the overall picture. The answer to your question is yes, I believe they were not from the U.N., nor were they practicing doctors. Instead, they acted like research scientists. Plus, they arrived quickly, as if they knew who was going to be sick and when.”
It fit Jon's idea that the twelve victims were part of a test begun at the 167th MASH at the end of the Gulf War. “Did they give any hint about where they'd come from?”
“They said Germany, but their German was textbook, and their clothes weren't European. I think they were Americans, which, a year ago, would have made it even more dangerous for them to enter Iraq without the approval of Saddam himself.”
Randi frowned. She adjusted the Uzi. “You have no thoughts about who could have sent them?”
“All I remember is their speaking once among themselves about excellent skiing. But they could be referring to many, many places.”
Jon paced, contemplating research scientists from America who had a quantity of serum to cure the new virus. Suddenly he realized: “I've spent the day asking about the six who had the virus a year ago. What about since then? Have there been more cases in Iraq?”
Dr. Mahuk compressed her lips in shocked sorrow. She had devoted her life to healing, and now the world seemed to be exploding in a sickness beyond anyone's control. Anger and pain and outrage laced her voice as she told them, “In the past week, we have had many new victims of ARDS. At least fifty have died. We are not sure of the exact number, and it changes by the hour. We are only beginning to investigate whether it is the unknown virus, but I have little doubt. The same symptoms are there ? the history of small fevers, the heavy cold or mild flu for a few weeks, and the sudden ARDS, the hemorrhaging and death within hours. There have been no survivors.” Her voice broke. “None.”
Smith whirled from his nervous pacing, stunned by the large number of deaths. Compassion filled him. Then he realized… this could be the answer: “Were these victims also in the Gulf War? Or from the Kuwait border?”
Dr. Mahuk sighed. “Unfortunately, the answer is not that simple. Only a few were in the war and none was from near Kuwait.”
“Any contact with the original six of a year ago?”
Her voice was discouraged. “None at all.”
Jon thought of his beloved Sophia and then of General Kielburger, Melanie Curtis, and the 167th MASH from ten years before. “But how could fifty people unknowingly be injected with the virus simultaneously ? especially in a sealed-off nation like yours? Were they from one single area? Had they been abroad? Did they have contact with foreigners?”
Dr. Mahuk did not answer immediately. She peeled away from her listening post at the door. She fished in a skirt pocket and took out what looked like a Russian cigarette. As she paced across the room to the examining table, she lit it, tense and nervous. The pungent barnyard aroma characteristic of Russian tobacco filled the Spartan office.
At last she said, “Because of my work with the virus victims last year, I was asked to study the new cases. I looked for all the possible sources of infection you mentioned. But I found none. I also found no connection among the victims. They appeared to be a random sampling of both sexes, all ages, occupations, ethnic groups, and geographic regions.” She inhaled again, letting the smoke out slowly as if still forming her thoughts. “They did not appear to have infected each other or their families. I cannot say whether that is significant, but it is curious.”
“It's consistent. Everything I've found so far indicates the virus has almost no contagious factor.”
“Then how are they getting it?” Randi had been following the conversation closely. Although she had no degree in chemistry or biology, she had had enough science courses to be aware of some of the fundamentals. What the two doctors were talking about… were deeply worried about… was an epidemic. “And why only Iraq and America?”
she asked. “Could it be the result of some biological warfare weapon from Desert Storm hidden here in Iraq?”
Shaking her head, Dr. Mahuk walked to the chipped metal desk in the corner. Her cigarette smoke followed like a brown ghost. She took a sheet of paper from a drawer and handed it to Jon. Randi instantly joined him, shifting the Uzi out of the way so she could lean closely. Appalled, they read a computer printout of a Washington Post front page:
DEADLY PANDEMIC OF UNKNOWN VIRUS SWEEPS GLOBE
The story reported twenty-seven nations had fatalities of more than a half million. All the illnesses began with a cold or flu for some two weeks, then abruptly escalated into ARDS, hemorrhaging, and death. In addition, forty-two nations reported cases in the high millions of what appeared to be a heavy common cold. It was still unknown whether all or any of those had the virus.
The news took Jon's breath away. Cold fear swept through him. A half million dead! Millions sick! “Where did you get this?” he asked.
Dr. Mahuk stubbed out her cigarette. “We have a secret computer at the hospital. We took that off the Internet this morning. Obviously, the virus is no longer confined to Iraq and America or to the Gulf War. I do not see how the cause could be a biological weapon in my country. The high number of deaths is ghastly.” Her voice broke. “That is why I knew I must speak to you.”
The ramifications of the news story and the pediatrician's revelations shook Jon again. Quickly he reread the article, thinking about what he had learned. Dr. Mahuk had ruled out nearly every possible contact with the outside; still, the virus had exploded into a worldwide epidemic. Two weeks ago, every one of the victims had been alive except the original three in Iraq from a year ago. The velocity of the virus's current expansion was inconceivable.
He looked up from the printout. “This is out of control. I've got to get home. If there really are people in America with a serum, I've got to find them. By now, some friends of mine may have information, too. There's no time to lose?”
