The King of Plagues

Chapter Sixty-five

The Hangar

Floyd Bennett Field, Brooklyn

December 19, 8:52 P.M. EST

“The tomb,” explained Circe.

Every eye was on her. She looked scared, but she held her ground.

“Spill it, girl,” said Aunt Sallie.

“Experts have been trying to scientifically explain the Ten Plagues for years,” Circe said. “If there were a series of catastrophes during the time of Moses in Egypt, then there would likely be panic and unrest. During such times raids on food stores would be possible, even likely. After a time of pestilence it’s very likely that some of the food stores were contaminated by any number of bacteria or fungi. Any bread made from moldy wheat would carry diseases. The sudden deaths of so many Egyptians could very well have the result of a raid on contaminated foodstuffs. The persons most likely to conduct a successful raid would be the older and more capable members of that society. If not precisely firstborn, then at least symbolically the ‘first among them.’ It’s not all that much of a stretch to see how that could have evolved into a more dramatic story of the firstborn dying as a result of a plague sent by God. After all, it was the last straw that led to the liberation of the Israelites.”

“You’re talking about mycotoxins,” murmured Rudy, nodding agreement.

Hu looked jazzed by all this. “Right! Mycotoxins can present in a food chain as a result of fungal infection of crops. Human infection can come through direct ingestion of infected products—bread, livestock, whatever—and even cooking and freezing won’t destroy them. Nice call, Circe.”

“What are—?” Dietrich began, but Hu cut him off.

“It’s a toxic chemical produced by fungi. The toxins enter the bloodstream and lymphatic system, damage macrophage systems, and some other evil shit. Back in 2004, over a hundred people died after eating maize contaminated with aflatoxin, a species of mycotoxin. There have been other cases, too. Mostly in third-world countries.”

“The biblical connection is mostly guesswork,” Circe admitted. “The Jewish story about Passover begins at the end of the Ten Plagues. Passover celebrates the first meal to mark the escape of the Israelites from bondage and from the plagues. The Passover meal consists of symbolic newborn lamb, fresh herbs, and horseradish—and all of these are safe from mycotoxin exposure. The same goes for unleavened bread, which is, by definition, free of any yeasty mycotoxin contamination.”

“Makes sense even to me,” said Dietrich. “But how’s all that relate to a ransacked tomb?”

“Remember the Curse of King Tut?” she asked. “Lord Carnovan, the Englishman who financed Howard Carter’s expedition to find the tomb of King Tutankhamen, died of a mysterious illness after entering the tomb. It’s very likely that he became ill after exposure to a fungus that had been dormant in the tomb for thousands of years and reactivated by fresh air. Recent studies of newly opened ancient Egyptian tombs that had not been exposed to modern contaminants found pathogenic bacteria of the staphylococcus and pseudomonas genera, and the molds Aspergillus niger and Aspergillus flavus.”

“Yeah,” said Hu, “but the concentrations were weak. They’d only be dangerous to persons with weakened immune systems.”

“Oh, hell, Doc,” I said, “don’t forget who we’re dealing with. You trying to tell me that Sebastian Gault couldn’t amp up and weaponize one of these toxins?”

Hu sat back and gave me a rueful smile. “Shit … I could do that.”

Rudy said, “So, if Amenhotep II was the pharaoh from the time of Exodus, then his son could have been a victim of the mycotoxin infection. If that’s the case, and if we go on the premise that it was Gault and the Kings who raided the tomb, then are we concluding that they found a more potent strain of mycotoxin?”

We thought about that. Circe chewed her lip and Hu drummed his fingers on the table.

I said, “I may not be a scientist … but I don’t think that’s what happened.”

“Why not?” asked Church.

“Because it’s way too convenient. The tomb was opened what—a month or so ago? That’s awfully tight timing for science, isn’t it? No … Gault’s smart, but we know that the Goddess is big into misdirection. We also know that the Kings dig symbolism. The tires used to create the Plague of Darkness weren’t exactly biblical. Nor are the ‘Locust’ bombers. Wouldn’t it work just as well for them to break into the tomb to establish the mythology and then hit the firstborn of the Inner Circle with something Gault already cooked up?”

They looked at me for a while, then at each other, and one by one they began nodding. Even Hu.

Aunt Sallie grunted her approval, though she clearly found it difficult to believe that Captain Shortbus had thought it up.

The main screen over the conference table showed a collage of twenty-one faces. Young men and women, a few kids. All of them dead now, victims of a modern version of an ancient plague.

I noticed a small red light flashing on Circe’s laptop. “What’s that?” I asked.

“The Goddess!” she said, toggling over to a Twitter screen. “I have it programmed to signal me if there’s a new Goddess post and—oh my God!”

“What?” demanded Church.

“The Goddess … she posted something … .”

Circe hit a button to send the message to the main screen. We sat there, shocked to silence. The message read:

The Ten Plagues have been visited on the wicked.

Witness the fall of the House of Bones.

And then the kicker.

It is complete.

“Dios mio,” whispered Rudy.

“Yeah. The Seven Kings beat us,” I said. “We lost.”

Part Five

Grief’s Best Music

The miserable have no other medicine

But only hope.

—WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, MEASURE FOR MEASURE

Chapter Sixty-six