James Tabor - The Deep Zone

“We have to give it to BARDA. The new antibiotics—”

“No, that’s not the plan anymore. It never was, actually. We—well, I —will give the moonmilk to my friends, who have already deposited half of my fee. Have you ever seen a bank statement showing a balance of five million dollars? Unbelievable. When I give them the material, they give me the rest.”

It wasn’t possible. She could not believe that Al Cahner could do such a thing. She had worked with the man every day for two years. He had nearly wept when they threw her out. One of the nicest men she had ever known. All during this expedition he had been steady, kind, ready to help.

And yet…

Of course it was possible. Failure warped people in unknowable ways.

Still, Al Cahner was no psychopathic demon. She knew there were better angels in him. And they could be reasoned with.

“Al. You can’t do that. Think about what you’re saying.”

“I have been thinking about it, Hallie. Believe me. For a very long time. Do you know how long I’ve worked for the government?”

“I think you said once it was almost twenty years.”

“Nineteen going on twenty, to be exact. Do you know how much money I make?”

“Of course not.”

“Eighty-seven thousand, four hundred and seventy-six dollars a year.”

“I’m not talking about the money.”

“No, but I am. Any third-year biologist at Merck makes more than that .”

Hallie’s head hurt, her body hurt, her thoughts kept turning into wisps of fog, but she had to focus. There must be some way to get through to him.

“It’s never been about the money for people like us, Al. It’s about doing the science. To help those who need it.”

“The science, yes. Forgive me if I point out that such fine sentiments are easier to entertain in your thirties than in your fifties. Truthfully, Hallie, when I was your age, I said the same kinds of things you did just now.”

“And I know you still feel them. We spent too much time together for me not to believe that.”

He inhaled, let out a long breath. There was genuine pain in his voice when he spoke. “I will always cherish that time. I need for you to believe that. Even if it wasn’t exactly… what I thought it was.”

“I do believe you. And for that very reason, I need for you to tell me exactly what is going on, Al. You owe us that. This is not how friends treat each other.”

He hesitated, and Hallie could see the struggle. A tormented man , she thought. All those years. Needing so much, having so little. Like a thirst with no way to slake it .

Finally he said, in a voice that sounded more exhausted than exultant, “I don’t suppose there’s any harm in it now.”

“In what?”

“Telling you what was really going on.” He paused, and she watched his expression change again. It was like seeing the tumblers move in a lock after the key had been inserted and turned. “It began not long after you came back with that first sample of moonmilk. Do you remember?”

“Sort of.”

“At first it was no big deal. Then your work with moonmilk began to attract a lot of attention.”

She waited for him to go on.

“I’d been unhappy with… call it a lack of proper recognition at BARDA, for some time. Did I mention that they passed me over for promotion three times?”

He had mentioned it fairly often, actually, but she thought better of saying so.

“At some point I put out feelers to private enterprise. I was thinking about making a move, but in my fifties, I wasn’t the most marketable prospect. I needed something special, a bargaining chip. And then the moonmilk came along.”

They had been conversing casually for a while now, so Hallie decided to test the water. “These ropes are really hurting my wrists. Do you think you could take them off? Or maybe just loosen them. It’s not like there’s any place for me to run to.”

“No, I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. We’ve gone beyond such niceties, unfortunately.”

His answer infuriated her, but she knew it was important not to show it. Build rapport in every way possible . “Okay, I can understand that. I just thought I’d ask.”

“So the moonmilk was my bargaining chip. Not just for a job, though. A job, they can take away from you. No, this was for a future. Something no one could ever take away.”

“What did you do, Al?”

He reddened. At first she thought it was anger. Then, as he spoke, she understood that it was something else: shame . He was almost whispering. “I had to get you out of the way, first. You were leading the research. I needed to get closer to it myself.”

“What did you do ?”

“I hacked into your home computer and made it send messages to a man from BioChem. Offering to sell certain proprietary information related to moonmilk.”

“That was you ?”

“I know—amazing, isn’t it? Nobody suspected shy, quirky old Al Cahner.”

“But… they must have investigated your BioChem connection. Why didn’t they blow your cover?”

“They couldn’t find him because he didn’t exist. He was an avatar. BioChem, of course, denied everything. They really were as mystified as BARDA. Neither side wanted scandal, so they just let it drop. Well, that’s not entirely right. They got rid of you.”

He hesitated, then went on: “It’s amazing how easy computer systems are to manipulate, Hallie. Pimply high school dropouts compromise Department of Defense computers all the time. It’s no big thing, if you have a certain level of knowledge and sufficient interest.”

“So you got me fired?” She was still having trouble believing it.

“Well, technically it was BARDA’s doing, but I maneuvered them into a position where they had no choice. They weren’t very nice about it, were they?”

“How could you do that?”

“It wasn’t the easiest decision, believe me, given how I felt about you. Of course, I had no way of knowing we would come together again. When I learned that Barnard was planning this expedition, I made sure that he put me on the team. I would get the moonmilk. And you. Or so I thought.”

Hallie had been exaggerating before about the discomfort of her bonds, but now they really were becoming painful. She shifted, pushed herself to a standing position, where she could move her arms just enough to relieve some of the pressure.

“Sit down!” Suddenly he had the Taser in his hand. She lowered herself quickly to the cave floor, the boulder’s rough surface cutting into her back. Cahner said, “Do you know, that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you look really afraid, Hallie.”

“So you got me fired. Thinking you would take over the research work.”

“Exactly right. And so I did. But watching you do it was one thing. Tackling it myself turned out to be quite another.”

“It was some of the most complex work I’d ever done.”

“Indeed. At first I tried using your initial hypothesis. But that turned out to be a dead end, I’m sorry to report. I had to come up with new experimental directions, and I did. Some were more promising than others. But they all failed in the end. Every single one.”

“And you ran out of moonmilk.”

“Yes. And Barnard didn’t think I’d showed enough progress to justify another expedition to retrieve more moonmilk. Goddamn him. If he had had the vision to see how close I was, all of this could have been avoided.”

“But then the ACE emergency came along.”

“Thank God for small favors.” He put his hands together in mock prayer, the Taser pressed between them. “Not that an ACE pandemic will be a small thing. But the bacteria that cause it certainly are.”