insistence on ignoring her. In both cases, Ralph had been understanding and supportive.
“I wish you’d tell me more about the community reaction,” he said. “How did the administrators and medical staff of the hospital try to control the panic, considering that this time there were thirty-seven deaths?”
Taking him at his word, Marissa tried to describe the turmoil at the St. Louis hospital. The staff and patients were furious at the enforced quarantine, and Dr. Taboso had sadly told her he expected the hospital to close when it was lifted.
“You know, I’m still worried abut getting sick myself,” admitted Marissa with a self-conscious laugh. “Every time I get a headache I think ‘this is it.’ And though we still have no idea where the virus came from, Dubchek’s position is that the virus reservoir is somehow associated with medical personnel, which doesn’t make me any more comfortable.”
“Do you believe it?” asked Ralph.
Marissa laughed. “I’m supposed to,” she said. “And if it is true, then you should consider yourself particularly at risk. Both index cases were ophthalmologists.”
“Don’t say that,” laughed Ralph. “I’m superstitious.”
Marissa leaned back as the waiter served a second round of coffee. It tasted wonderful, but she suspected she’d be sorry later on when she tried to sleep.
After the waiter left with the dessert dishes, Marissa continued: “If Dubchek’s position is correct, then somehow both eye doctors came into contact with the mysterious reservoir. I’ve puzzled over this for weeks without coming up with a single explanation. Dr. Richter came in contact with monkeys; in fact he’d been bitten a week before he became ill, and monkeys have been associated with a related virus called Marburg. But Dr. Zabriski had no contact with any animals at all.”
“I thought you told me that Dr. Richter had been to Africa,” said Ralph. “It seems to me that is the crucial fact. After all, Africa is where this virus is endemic.”
“True,” said Marissa. “But the time frame is all wrong. His incubation period would have been six weeks, when all the other cases averaged only two to five days. Then consider the problem of relating the two outbreaks. Dr. Zabriski hadn’t been to Africa, but the only point of connection was that the two doctors attended the same medical conference in San Diego. And again, that was six weeks before Dr. Zabriski got sick. It’s crazy.” Marissa waved her hand as if she were giving up.
“At least be happy you controlled the outbreaks as well as you did. I understand that it was worse when this virus appeared in Africa.”
“That’s true,” agreed Marissa. “In the Zaire outbreak in 1976, whose index case may have been an American college student, there were three hundred eighteen cases and two hundred eighty deaths.”
“There you go,” said Ralph, feeling that the statistics should cheer Marissa. He folded his napkin and put it on the table. “How about stopping at my house for an after-dinner drink?”
Marissa looked at Ralph, amazed at how comfortable she’d become with him. The surprising thing was that the relationship had developed on the telephone. “An after-dinner drink sounds fine,” she said with a smile.
On the way out of the restaurant, Marissa took Ralph’s arm. When they got to his car, he opened the door for her. She thought that she could get used to such treatment.
Ralph was proud of his car. It was obvious in the loving way he touched the instruments and the steering wheel. The car was a new 300 SDL Mercedes. Marissa appreciated its luxuriousness as she settled back in the leather seat, but cars had never meant much to her. She also couldn’t understand why people bought diesels since they had an uncomfortable rattle when they started and idled. “They are economical,” said Ralph. Marissa looked around at the appointments. She marveled that someone could delude himself that an expensive Mercedes was economical.
They didn’t speak for a while, and Marissa wondered if going to Ralph’s house at that time of night was a good idea. But she trusted Ralph and was willing to let their relationship develop a little further. She turned to look at him in the half-light. He had a strong profile, with a prominent nose like her father’s.
After they had settled on the couch in the parlor, with brandy snifters in hand, Marissa mentioned something she had been afraid to point out to Dubchek in his current patronizing mood. “There is one thing about the two index cases that I find curious. Both men were mugged just a few days before they got sick.” Marissa waited for a response.
“Very suspicious,” said Ralph with a wink. “Are you suggesting that there is an ‘Ebola Mary’ who robs people and spreads the disease?”
Marissa laughed. “I know it sounds stupid. That’s why I haven’t said anything to anyone else.”
“But you have to think of everything,” added Ralph. “The old medical-school training that taught you to ask everything, including what the maternal great-grandfather did for a living in the old country.”
Deliberately, Marissa switched the conversation to Ralph’s work and his house, his two favorite subjects. As the time passed, she noted that he did not make any moves toward her. She wondered if it were something about herself, like the fact that she’d been exposed to Ebola. Then, to make matters worse, he invited her to spend the night in the guest room.
Marissa was insulted. Perhaps just as insulted as if he’d tried to drag her dress over her head the moment they walked in the front door. She told him thank you, but she did not want to spend the night in his guest room; she wanted to spend the night in her own house with her dog. The last part was meant to be an affront, but it sailed over Ralph’s head. He just kept on talking about redecorating plans he had for the first floor of the house, now that he’d lived there long enough to know what he wanted.
In truth, Marissa did not know what she would have done if Ralph had made any physical advances. He was a good friend, but she still didn’t find him romantically attractive. In that respect, she thought Dubchek’s looks distinctly more exciting.
Thinking of Cyrill reminded her of something. “How do you and Dr. Dubchek know each other?”
“I met him when he addressed the ophthalmology residents at the University Hospital,” said Ralph. “Some of the rare viruses like Ebola and even the AIDS virus have been localized in tears and the aqueous humor. Some of them even cause anterior uveitis.”
“Oh,” said Marissa, nodding as if she understood. Actually she had no idea what anterior uveitis was, but she decided it was as good a point as any to ask Ralph to drive her home.
Over the next few days, Marissa adapted to a more normal life, although every time the phone rang, she half expected to be called out for another Ebola disaster. Remembering her resolve, she did pack a suitcase and kept it open in her closet, ready for her to toss in her cosmetics case. She could be out of her house in a matter of minutes, if the need arose.
At work, things were looking up. Tad helped her perfect her viral laboratory skills and worked with her to write up a research proposal on Ebola. Unable to come up with a working hypothesis for a possible reservoir for Ebola, Marissa concentrated instead on the issue of transmission. From the enormous amount of data that she’d amassed in L.A. and St. Louis, she had constructed elaborate case maps to show the spread of the illness from one person to another. At the same time, she’d compiled detailed profiles on the people who had been primary contacts but who had not come down with the disease. As Dr. Layne had suggested, close personal contact was needed, presumably viral contact with a mucous membrane, though, unlike AIDS, sexual transmission had only been a factor between Dr. Richter and the medical secretary and Dr. Zabriski and his wife. Given the fact that hemorrhagic fever could spread between strangers who shared a towel, or by the most casual close touch, Ebola made the AIDS scare seem like a tempest in a teapot.
What Marissa wanted to do was to validate her hypothesis by using guinea pigs. Of course such work required the use of the maximum containment lab, and she still had not obtained permission.
“Amazing!” exclaimed Tad, one afternoon when Marissa demonstrated a technique she’d devised to salvage bacteria-contaminated viral cultures. “I can’t imagine Dubchek turning down your proposal now.”
“I can,” answered Marissa. She debated telling Tad about what had happened in the L.A. hotel, but once again she decided not to do so. It wouldn’t accomplish anything and might cause problems in Tad’s relationship with Cyrill.
She followed her friend into his office. As they relaxed over coffee, Marissa said, “Tad, you told me when we went into the maximum containment lab that there were all sorts of viruses stored in there, including Ebola.”
“We have samples from every outbreak. There are even samples frozen and stored from your two outbreaks.”
