Michael Palmer - Natural Causes

"How does that help us now?" Sarah asked.

"Well, it might not help us at all," Mulholland responded. "But then again, it might. That's where Rosa, here, came in. With bioengineering companies popping up from sea to shining sea like corks, the possibility of an outbreak of disease caused by a new life form seemed more than possible. The Andromeda Strain in the novel was from outer space. In truth, we no longer have to go nearly that far for trouble. So Rosa made a deal with the U.S. patent office to share their data with us. Whenever a new life form is patented, we get a description."

"By law," Rosa explained, "the patent description must be detailed enough so that the life form could be identified and reproduced by an expert in the field. Now a majority of genetic engineering firms cooperate with us directly by submitting descriptions of their new microbes, and often even their work in progress, for inclusion in our data banks."

"Amazing," Sarah said. "So now you can tap into your data banks in Atlanta and see if you can come up with a match. Do you have that many new life forms on file?"

"You don't want to know how many," Mulholland said.

"Do you want to take a break before you start that process?" Sarah asked. "We should allow at least an hour to get you back to the airport."

"In that case, I'll have lunch on the plane," the virologist said. "Or have I already had it? No matter. This part shouldn't take too long, thanks to the miracle of how much money we convinced Uncle Sam to spend on our mainframe. Rosa, why don't you do the honors?"

"Seria mi placer," Rosa replied. "What we'll do, Sarah, is start with the largest commonality, in this case the type of virus initially used." She typed.

Adenovirus onto the screen and entered it. "Then we work our way down. If we get a no match at any point, the game is over. The truth is, the computer could probably do the whole process itself, but I like the adventure."

"She likes the adventure," Mulholland echoed reverently.

Piece by piece, Rosa entered George's DNA sequence and asked the Atlanta mainframe to search for a match. Sarah was astounded at how many recombinant viruses there were. And the field of genetic engineering is only in its infancy! Rapidly, though, the number of matches to their virus got smaller and smaller.

"Okay," Rosa said. "This next piece of data should separate the man from the boys."

She entered another of George's sequences, and a second or so later.

No Match appeared on the screen.

"Damn," Rosa whispered.

The word was barely spoken when the screen flashed another message:

Typo suspected — Check for data entry error or repeat inquiry

"We'll have to find that programmer and give her a raise," Mulholland said.

"I never could type," Rosa muttered, studying her notes, then again entering the sequence. "Next time I will let the computer do it."

In just seconds, data began to appear on the screen.

Unknown matched to access number ACX9934452; probability of confluence — 100 % — Please type access number and your security code to continue.

"Bingo," Rosa said.

She did as the mainframe requested. And almost instantly, George had a new name… and a home.

CRV113 — BI0-Vir Corporation, 4256 New Park, Cambridge, MA 02141; (617) 445-1500; U.S. Patent # 5,665,297; RDV332, 210 (1984).

Adenovirus spliced with thrombin- thromboplastin producing genes; potential application: rapid wound healing, hemostasis. No further information available.

Rosa turned to Sarah. The epidemiologist's expression was, at once, triumphant and grim.

"Thrombin," she said. "Unless I am mistaken, it is also factor two in the biological cascade of blood clotting."

"And thromboplastin is a clotting factor, too," Sarah said excitedly. "Rosa, this is it. I just know it is."

Rosa was already dialing the BIO-Vir number.

"Well, that was easy enough," she said, after a brief conversation. "I have an appointment tomorrow morning at ten with Dr. Dimitri Athanoulos, president of the BIO-Vir Corporation."

"I wish I could go with you," Sarah said. "But I have a case, and I'm on call."

"Fortunately, I have no such obligations," Mulholland said. "My wife and kids could use a little vacation from me. And I wouldn't miss this for the world. Does that landlady of yours have any spare rooms?"

"If she doesn't," Rosa said with a wink, "I have a double bed."

Black Cat Daniels was treading on thin professional ice, and he knew it. Sarah had rejected the decision by MMPO claims adjuster Roger Phelps to settle her case. All charges against her would be dropped, she insisted, and no settlement paid, or she would go to trial at her own expense. And despite the love relationship that was deepening each day between him and his client, Matt had chosen to continue representing her.

The truth was, he admitted now, he wished it was over. Deep down, he wished she had simply said "Pay the man. Pay the man the two hundred thousand and close the book. I want to spend some time getting to know this lover of mine without having this suit hanging over our heads."

The plastic, fortune-telling eight-ball on his desk doubled as a paperweight. It was a gift from Harry several Father's Days ago. Matt knew in the most sensible, practical parts of his intellect that it was a toy-molded plastic, filled with water, enclosing a floating octahedron, or whatever. It had been manufactured and sold for decades now… by the millions. And certainly this particular one had no more predictive ability than any of the others.

"Are we going to win this thing?" he asked, hefting the eight-ball in his hand.

If anyone knew the number of major life decisions he had made after consulting the plastic sphere, he would probably be disbarred, he thought.

Ask again later, the ball replied.

As expected, Roger Phelps was furious that despite his offer to settle, Sarah had elected to continue fighting the malpractice suit against her. Her obstinacy, Matt knew, left doubt at the MMPO about the $200,000 Phelps had instructed them to give away. That doubt would linger for however many months-or years-it took for the case to come to trial. Then, if Sarah lost for a big jury reward, Phelps would be Hero for a Day. But if she won, Phelps would have approximately $200,000 worth of egg on his face. Even for someone without Phelps's arrogance, that was the fixin's for a big league omelette.

But Matt also knew that he had no less at stake in this game than Phelps. For starters, he would have to bill Sarah to maintain appearances should his motives and ethics be called into question. A loss in court, and he could be accused of convincing Sarah to continue the case in order to keep his billable hours going as well; a win, and the best he personally could hope to come away with was some positive publicity. To all intents, he had earned his last dollar from Grayson v. Baldwin.

And in addition, Matt knew that lose or win, he had also seen his last malpractice case from the MMPO, by far the largest medical liability carrier in the state. Thanks to Phelps's insistence on settling, what had started as a huge break for him, with unlimited potential, was now doomed. He snatched up his glove and ball and began to pace. With his credit cards maxed out and much of his time to be spent on Sarah's case, flying Harry east for Thanksgiving or Christmas was going to be the longest financial stretch yet. Left alone, he quite possibly could have won Sarah's case while he continued to have a decent income for his work. Why in the hell couldn't Phelps have just let him be? His fees to defend Sarah would have stayed well below $200,000. And bit by bit, Mallon's case was beginning to crumble. Why hadn't Phelps been able to see that?

Something wasn't right about this whole business, he began to think, something he already knew but simply could not put a finger on. How could Phelps not believe that the families of Alethea Worthington and Constanza Hidalgo would go after similar settlements? It stood to reason they would. The cost of his move wasn't $200,000, it was $600,000. With the case Matt was beginning to build, and with the possibilities raised by Rosa Suarez's discoveries, a $600,000 giveaway was a hell of a vote of no confidence.