Чак Хоган - The Blood Artists

“So go out over the airwaves. Get Bobby Chiles on the news—”

“Not enough. Even with the public fear of the virus, you know there are some who would still ignore our warnings, and that’s all Zero needs. I need something that will hit the city fast and knock it down hard.”

Geist’s hand went slowly to rub his bald head. “Insane,” he said.

“Drastic. And desperate. And necessary.”

“I’m here to prevent disease.”

Maryk nodded. “Exactly.”

Geist massaged his scalp like a man polishing a brass orb. “I suppose you’d want ninety-eight to one hundred percent infectivity. Say, deliverable in a minute dose, and able to tolerate diverse environments. With no available antidote.”

“That’s right.”

“So would every army of every nation in the world. They call them ‘biological weapons,’ and I’d sooner trust something like this to them than to you.”

“This is what you do here, Geist: You bend nature into your bow. This planet is seething with ignorant hosts, and if we don’t stop Zero here in Atlanta, today, it’s over. It’s all over.”

Geist burned as he rubbed his head. He ruminated and polished and sighed. “There might be something.” Seconds ticked away while Geist studied Maryk warily. “Two years ago. A bug that burned through half the North Korean Army.”

Maryk recalled the news stories. “Came up out of the jungle and went right down again. Half the border went unmanned for two or three days.”

“Incontinence, some variable nausea. But generally, extreme fatigue. Shuts the body down into a deep sleep. Headaches, discomfort, but no real pain and no lingering effects. Nasty but clean. Dedicated. Airborne.”

Maryk said, “It has to be rock solid.”

“It’s a reliable DNA virus. Steady as a halfback, though I’d want another good look to be certain.”

“Fast?”

“Extraordinarily virulent. It gets anything with lungs, yet it burns clean, and exposure confers immunity. Once you get it, you can never get it again.”

“How much do we have?”

“Mere samples. But I could trick it up and replicate it easily enough.”

“And test it against Plainville. Make certain there’s no virus-beneficial cross-reaction. Zero’s mutating fast, and open to change, and I don’t want him to encounter something that would only add to his arsenal.”

“But how will you stop it from spreading beyond Atlanta?”

“Leave that to me. My only concern now is speed.”

“I’d have to pull this thing out of deep freeze in Thirteen. Look it over, shore it up. Engineer copies. But I haven’t said yes yet.”

“I’ll give you one hour.”

Geist shook his head. “You’re talking about the wholesale infection of a U.S. city. There are certain philosophical concerns. I like to be able to sleep at night.”

But Geist clearly was intrigued. Maryk saw in Geist’s face the seditious eyes of a true man of science.

“Just how do you plan on infecting all of metro Atlanta today?” Geist said.

Maryk strode to the glass door. “Leave that to me.”

Maryk posted Freeley from his office and instructed her to stall the BioCon cleanup and keep the airport shut down into the night. She was to establish checkpoints along every highway outside the city and await his instructions.

He called up a map of metro Atlanta His target area extended beyond the metro I-285 loop, from Roswell to Smyrna, down to Union City, through Riverdale and Panthersville and out to Stone Mountain, and back north again through Decatur and Duluth.

He scanned Atlanta for places Zero might seek out as primary targets. He pulled down population distributions by metropolitan district and accessed the departments of public works network. He highlighted every regional waterworks station. He had to think like a virus now. Maryk could get into places Zero could only dream of.

He tapped into the BDc’s Genetech computer and traced the flow of air through all thirteen on-campus buildings back to a below ground central air-conditioning system. The Tank and other negative-air-pressure security labs were supplied independently and could be spared.

He dialed Suzy Lumen and had Zero’s computer trace rerouted directly to his own tablet. He would be paged automatically in the event of any unauthorized access.

He checked the Atlanta Bureau of Tourism home page. The international Star Fleet Convention of the hinge Enterprise Church was due to kick off at noon that day with a service at Turner Stadium.

Eighty-five thousand devotees were expected to attend.

He consulted the National Weather Service last. Heavy rain was forecast for midday over most of the city. Maryk grinned at his great good fortune.

Geist was wearing a contact suit now and dark circles owled his browless eyes inside the hood. Engineers milled about the labs outside the glass walls of the work station and he watched them conspiratorially.

“The Korean virus is lock-solid,” he said, “or as lock-solid as any virus can be. Nasty little spud. A real runt virus. Tenacious.”

Maryk turned the sealed petri dish over and over in his gloved hand and the translucent fluid slid around with the consistency of corn syrup. “I’ll need heavy concentrations, both liquid and crystal.”

“Being worked up now.”

Maryk brimmed with nervous energy. “Did you take a look at the Zero sample?”

“No reaction to plants. Human cells, it infects as before. And I can see the genetic resemblance to smallpox. It’s remarkable.” Geist breathed deeply inside his suit. “The vast, vast majority of the population will survive this. I truly believe that. But there will be ramifications.”

“All area hospitals are being alerted to Biohazard 2 as we speak.”

“What about the BDC?”

“Every potential host must be removed from Zero’s grasp. Air-conditioning gives me a direct pipeline into each building.”

“What about Building Thirteen? Certain things have to be looked after.”

“The Genetech runs the bug vault. It will preserve security there and keep all the stored pathogens in deep-freeze. This is all or nothing, Geist. Anything less than the entire metro population means failure.”

Geist nodded inside his hood. “What about Zero? I combined this thing with his virus, and there were no fireworks. But what if it puts him to sleep too?”

“Just as well. His virus will break down while he sleeps. My hunch is that he’s holed up in a car somewhere, hiding in the dark, an underground garage probably, medicating himself and conserving his strength for tonight. I think it will miss him completely.”

“And what about the girl?”

Maryk had been holding the dish up to the ceiling lights. He lowered his arm and returned the solution to the counter. “What girl?”

“The look on your face,” said Geist. “The girl you’ve been taking around with you everywhere, of course. A hostile antisocial such as yourself. Who is she? A patient?”

The chill of failure threatened to envelop Maryk again. He reminded himself that Melanie Weir was a small price to pay for the preservation of the human race. He answered, “Not anymore.”

Geist had more to say but Maryk was no longer listening. He was moving toward the glass door.

The twin-engine planes took off from De Kalb Peachtree Airport around ten o’clock that morning. They flew in shifts, climbing high over the city and punching through the gathering clouds before releasing their payloads. The hired pilots were unaware of the extra cargo they carried, the translucent solution soaking the rainmaking silver iodide crystals. They seeded the thickening clouds in patient box patterns growing wider with every passing hour.