“What’s Syria like, anyway?”
“Mmm-mmmph.”
“Happenin’ place, huh?”
One of the girls poked her in the shin. Lia grabbed the little devil by the shirt and raised her up to eye level. The two old ladies stopped their chattering.
The little girl furrowed her eyes — then started to laugh.
Realizing everything she did was being recorded, Lia let her go.
71
“Marie is seriously worried about you,” Chafetz told Karr when the link with the Art Room was finally made.
“Hey, can I talk into this thing?” Karr asked. He was using what looked like a Raytheon AN/PSC-5 radio, a standard unit used in the field.
“Reasonably secure,” answered the runner. “But keep your voice down. Some of the exterior security is being provided by nationals.”
“Bet they’ll understand about as much of what I say as I understand what they say.” He pushed around to sit up in the bed. Unlike in the States, the hospital bed didn’t adjust. In fact, it was far too small for his frame; Karr’s feet bumped against the metal frame, and if he rolled over he’d find himself on the floor. “That reminds me — I have some stuff on the handheld for you to translate.”
“We have a backup battery unit en route. Should be there any minute. I have some questions for you,” added the runner.
“Fire away.”
“Did you pet a cat when you were at Kegan’s house?”
“Cat petted me,” he told her. “Sweet little thing.”
“Lick your hand?”
“You going to ask if I kissed it next?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
“It did lick my hand, and no, I didn’t kiss it.”
“Good,” said Chafetz. “Very good. That’s how you got
There was a knock on the door.
“Yeah?”
“Delivery.”
“Delivery?”
“They’re still treating you as if you’re in isolation, Tommy,” said Chafetz. “Can you get out of bed and get the boxes? The batteries and the other gear you need are in there.”
Karr got up out of bed, his joints stiff and his muscles aching. He had to pull the bag of fluid with him across the room, and by the time he got to the door the person who had knocked was long gone. Two metal footlockers with digital locks were in the hallway. He lifted them up, bringing them back inside.
Obviously, his strength was returning, he realized. The lady in the village had cured him.
“So, Sandy, are you going to give me the combination on these?”
“I was thinking I’d make you guess.”
“Let’s see, twelve numbers. Ought to take me what, three years?”
“Well, you must be feeling better. You’re starting to joke around again.”
“Still hurts when I laugh, though.”
The runner gave him the combination. Inside one of the lockers was a new battery unit for the com system. Once he had it on, he lay back on the bed, listening to Chaucer talking about possible vectors and epidemic surges — and the miracle of penicillin.
“What we’re not sure of yet is whether the disease was engineered to be resistant to specific antibiotics,” he added, “or if it was made to be vulnerable to just this one.”
“How can you tell?”
“We may not be able to,” said Chaucer. “You don’t seem to have much of a rash,” he added.
“Am I supposed to?”
“In the natural version of the disease, yes. How are your joints?”
“Stiff.” Tommy looked at the undersides of his forearms and wrists. “I have some dark things like welts on my arms. Blotches. Raised a little.”
“Very minor compared to the natural version. I wonder if that was programmed in. The arthritis seems milder too, but it may get worse.”
“I have arthritis?”
“The joints swell up. You’ll get better. It seems as if the disease was engineered to increase some of the earlier effects of the disease, but it’s not clear whether that diminished the after-effects or if the designer did that on purpose for some reason. I’d love to talk to him — after he’s put away. Anyone who can do this is pretty dangerous.”
“Bottom line here, though, is I’m going to be okay?” asked Karr.
“If what the woman gave you was made from what Kegan was looking for, then it’s a good guess. Drinking a cup of that would be just like taking a shitload of penicillin.”
“That a scientific measure? Shitload?”
“It’s between a tablespoon and a gulp,” said Chaucer.
“How long am I in for?”
“Well, we’d like to keep you isolated for a few weeks while we work all the possible permutations out.”
“Weeks?” Karr laughed.
“We may settle for less. According to the tests, you’re no longer contagious. But—”
“Why is there a
“We don’t have much experience — we don’t have any experience really — with this specific disease. We’re really still learning about it.”
“I’ll make you a deal. You set me free and I’ll go back and grab some more of this stuff. We can cure the world.”
“It’s not my call,” said Chaucer.
“You do want the stuff, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“Tommy — we have the translation of those snippets you recorded,” said Telach, breaking in. “She told you there were other people who have the same thing, and that the liquid she gave you would cure the disease in just a few hours. Tommy, I have to talk to Mr. Rubens about this, but she mentioned another white person was in the area recently. It may have been Dr. Kegan.”
72
Dean watched the Mossad agent watch Lia as she got off the bus and retrieved her luggage. Both Dean and the Art Room had checked around for a trail team but found no one. According to Telach, Lia’s supposed status as a tourist of dubious background shouldn’t attract all that much attention from Mossad, since the Israeli secret service had all of the important arms networks in Syria pretty well figured out; even Deep Black had trouble getting things
