Gregg Hurwitz - Minutes to Burn

Cameron stepped forward and picked up the head carefully, as if con-cerned it would spring to life. The shell of the head was intact, but much of the insides had been eaten by ants. She tilted it in a shaft of light fil-tering through the treetops, admiring the hard, jagged line of the mandibles.

"Looks like it's just us and the larvae now," she said.

Samantha nearly fell out of bed when she heard the loud banging at the slammer window. She jolted upright, eyes swollen with sleep, her hands immediately dancing along the countertop beside her bed in search of her glasses. She found them and pushed them onto her head at an angle. Her scrubs were twisted around her hips and she loosened them and pulled them straight.

Tom was at the window, his face animated with excitement. "It's the same virus!"

"What?" Samantha said. "Who?"

"In the thermoproteaceae living in the deep sea cores they pulled off the coast of Sangre de Dios. They must've been released from the crust by the drilling and entered the ocean, where they infected the species of dinoflagellates. Since the dinos were pushed toward the ocean's surface by quakes, they were made susceptible by UV exposure, and the virus must have bridged that structural gap. And get this-just like Dr. Den-ton noticed that the dinos were altered, somehow, genetically, the ther-moproteaceae are all fucked up. Each one has a different genetic profile than the next."

"How is that…"

Tom shrugged. "Rajit's been playing with it in lab, trying to nail its eti-ology and pathogenicity, and make sense of the PCR test. The virus seems to contain a massive range of DNA code-blueprints for pro-teins from all kinds of species. The guys have already nicknamed it: the Darwin virus."

Samantha scratched her head. "Just don't name it after a location- the last thing we need right now is an outraged Chamber of Commerce somewhere."

"What's been happening with the rabbits?" Tom asked.

"Not a thing as of last night," Samantha said. "Cytopathic effect is what I'm thinking. We might have to bleed them, get the serum under a scope."

"Have you checked on them this morning?" he asked. She shook her head. "Well, you'd better hurry and take a peek before they shitcan you and ship you home in a bubble."

Still rubbing her eyes, Samantha trudged over to the crash door and pushed through into the next room. Tom waited for her at the window rather than walking around to the observation post. When she reap-peared, she was ghost white.

"You'd better suit up and get in here," she said, her voice trembling. "You need to see this."

Several tables were set up outside the slammer window, a team of virolo-gists and high-ranking officers gathered around them. Phones, faxes, and computers were running simultaneously, blinking, beeping, and ringing. Still clad only in medical scrubs, Samantha pulled a chair up to the glass and sat watching the others. Though her viral count was contin-uing to decrease, it was not yet zero; she would not be cleared from quar-antine until she'd been held the requisite seven days. A stack of micrographs sat in her lap.

Colonel Douglas Strickland strode up the hallway behind the makeshift workstation, his polished shoes clicking on the tile. The work-ers froze.

He pulled to a halt, facing Samantha through the window. "Dr. Everett," he said.

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, darling?"

He grimaced. "I've been informed we have something of a crisis on our hands."

"You could say that."

Strickland removed his beret and shuttled it through his hands. "If you continue to lend us your professional expertise in contending with this problem, I'm quite certain that such efforts will counterbalance the charges that have been leveled against you for your prior indiscretions. Assuming, of course, that you express remorse to the JAG officer."

Samantha stood up. "The only thing I'm remorseful about is that I placed myself in a position where my medical judgment was subject to military review."

"I would hardly-"

"Don't panic, Doug. I'll help you, but not for that reason. I'll help you because I'm actually still foolish enough to give a shit. So here's question number one for you: Is this something you've been working on behind the fence?"

Strickland's face drained of color. "You're implying that we devel-oped this killer virus here on the premises for the sake of biological war-fare?"

"We don't have time for implying-I'm asking outright. Is this virus out of the BW facility or not?"

Strickland stepped forward until his nose was almost touching the glass. His face was almost comically red, his jaw clenched. "Look at my face, Dr. Everett. Do you think I'd be exhibiting this level of concern if I had any idea with what we are contending?"

Samantha looked at him. Believed him.

"I saw the…offspring of that rabbit." Strickland shuddered. Sam-antha did not imagine he shuddered often. "Creatures unlike any-thing…abortions, all of them."

"Unviable mutations," Samantha said.

"Did the virus actually impregnate the rabbit?"

"No. We checked the records from the Crimean Congo virus study- the one the rabbits were shipped in for. One was pregnant, a few days, maybe. The virus drastically accelerated the pregnancy, but it didn't cause it to begin with."

"Is this thing going to spread?"

Samantha shrugged. "As it stands, we don't know if it will infect humans. But technically, a virus's sole mission is to replicate. To survive, it's got to hop continually from host to host, usually mutating, adapting and evolving as it goes. Viruses are mindless-just as short-sighted as humans, in fact. They have no long-term strategy. This virus could run virulent through its population and extinguish itself by killing off all available hosts. Dr. Denton and I are crunching the numbers right now to estimate the odds of another mutated mantid lineage on Sangre de Dios."

"How does it function? This…Darwin virus?"

Samantha nodded at the bustling work station behind Strickland. "That's what we're working on now."

"What is your informed opinion-or your hunch-at this stage?" he asked.

She sighed, winding a fist in the bottom of her scrub top. "My prelim-inary analysis of the genetic sequencing has shown that the virus itself contains genetic sequences from myriad other life forms. Like all viruses, it invades the host cells, using their machinery to replicate itself. In higher organisms, it seems to splice into the site between a promoter gene and a gene expressed only during embryonic development-in the case of the rabbits, the HOX series. Because of that, the viral DNA is promoted only during embryonic development. During this time, it attacks the DNA sequencing of its host, inserting its own segments of functional DNA code into the equation, and using these materials like primordial building blocks to create new life forms in the next generation."

"Segments of functional DNA code?"

"Yes. They carry the marching orders for cells, causing them to form complex structures, like wings, legs, skeletal configuration, lungs, and other structures with or without utility."

Strickland shook his head in disbelief. "So if this thing spreads, we could have dogs with gills? Humans running around with wings?"

"It's highly unlikely, but not impossible. We forget how closely linked we are genetically to other animals. Only about a thousand genes out of a hundred thousand differentiate us from chimps. Even organisms as distant from us as roundworms have DNA sequences similar to ours, like variant spellings of the same word. If something gets into the code of any animal and tampers with it, even a little bit, the phenotypic alter-ations can be extraordinary." She tried to straighten her glasses, but they still tilted to the left.