John Ringo - Under a Graveyard Sky

“Well,” Stacey said, snuggling closer. “Maybe a little nibble.”

“I don’t know,” Steve said. “Have you been a good girl? Do you deserve a nibble?”

“I’ve been a very bad girl,” Stacey whispered in his ear. “So I definitely deserve a nibble…”

“Oh, my God,” Faith said, grimacing. She’d suddenly appeared in the hatchway to the saloon. “That is sooo gross!”

“So much for a little alone time,” Steve said, shaking his head. “What’s up?”

“What are we going to do about dinner?” Faith asked.

“You know where the food is,” Steve said.

“So we’re going to have to cook in this?” Faith said.

“We’re sure as hell not ordering pizza,” Stacey said. “Should we break into the Mountain House?”

“Better than trying to cook a regular meal when we can barely stand up,” Steve said, grinning. “Think you can figure out how to boil water?”

“In this?” Faith said. “No way! It’s storming!”

“ This is not a storm ,” Steve said. “Given the plan, at some point you’ll understand what the word ‘storm’ means in a forty-five foot sailboat. This isn’t even a gale.”

“I can do it,” Sophia said. “I think.”

“No,” Steve said. “Stace, take the wheel. I’m going to have to give your daughters a class on boiling water and working with boiling water in light chop conditions.”

“Try not to kill yourself or catch the boat on fire,” Stacey said.

“Thank you for that vote of confidence, first mate.”

* * *

“The reason that it is both airborne and blood pathogen now becomes clear…” Dr. Bao said. “Researchers at University of Hong Kong have pieced out its genetic and proteinomic code. The influenza virus produces two separate and distinct ‘child’ viruses. One is a copy of the H7D3 influenza. The second is a highly modified version of the rabies virus…”

“Two viruses in one?” Dr. Curry said, leaning forward and setting down his popcorn bag. “What the hell ?”

* * *

“Oh… Oh… Oh… Oh, no… No …”

Tim Shull had been following “the synbio version of Chernobyl” in real time, monitoring multiple different sources. Tim could because he really didn’t have anything better to do. After dropping out of his master’s program after that stupid argument with Dr. Wirta he’d moved back home. And since Starbucks cut back on his time he could spend most of the day scanning the various synbio boards, news and blogs. It was the virtual version of watching a train wreck in slow motion. And whether the world ended or not, it was going to wreck the amateur synbio industry.

Synbio was short for synthetic biology, the creation of new or modified organisms. The “mundane” term was genetic engineering. It was a field at which Tim was a sort of “internet only” recognized expert. He’d been on the fast track to working in the professional field when he’d had a falling out with his master’s advisor and quit. Subsequent to that he’d continued his work, literally, in his mother’s basement until a breakthrough last year that if he’d done it as a master’s thesis would have made him a shoe-in for prizes, maybe even a Nobel, and a guaranteed PhD track. Since he’d done it on his own time in a basement the “awards” were few and far between. So all he’d done was put up a video and blog explaining the breakthrough and become a minor celebrity in the amateur synbio community. Although there had been some applications breakthroughs in basement synbio, his was really the first theoretical breakthrough. Which meant he had the largest number of followers on Twitter of a amateur synbio “pioneer” and his words were, on amateur synbio boards, given much the same weight as professionals.

Unfortunately, his “breakthrough” was how to get a virus to express two different organisms from a single virus. And he’d put it up as a YouTube video…

“I am soooo screwed…”

There was a thunderous crash from upstairs and he heard his mother screaming…

“DOWN! DOWN! DOWN! FBI SERVING A VALID SEARCH WARRANT…!”

He looked around but there was nowhere to run in a basement.

* * *

“The creator of the Pacific Flu virus has been identified as twenty-four-year-old Timothy Shull, a drop-out from the Stanford microbiology master’s program…”

CHAPTER 6

“I didn’t create the virus!” Tim said. The room was windowless and since he’d been transported with a bag over his head he wasn’t even sure where he was. And good luck with getting a lawyer. The ride had also made him puke all over his lap and shoes. Which wasn’t adding to his day. “All I did was prove it was possible to express two different…”

“All we want is the vaccine, kid,” the FBI agent said, calmly.

“I DIDN’T MAKE THE VIRUS!” Tim screamed. “If I had the VACCINE I’d have VACCINATED myself! And my mom!”

“You’ve got all the materials in your basement, son,” the agent said, still calmly. It wasn’t like the geek could get violent chained to a chair. “So just explain how to make the vaccine…”

“AAAAAGH!”

* * *

“There is no RNA or DNA related to the pathogen in this material,” Dr. Karza said, shrugging. His team had run every stored micro-organism in the suspect’s lab in world-record time. There was lots of other”stuff’ but exactly zero was pathogenic. “Fascinating breakthrough. Brilliant. Really brilliant. But it has nothing except background science to do with the actual pathogen.”

“You didn’t get it right the last time,” Agent Shornauer said. “Why do we trust you this time?”

“ You want to figure it out, tough guy? Bottomline, except for pure scientific aspects, this is a dead-end.”

“We’ll determine that…”

* * *

The FBI Director looked at the report and grimaced. According to not only the CDC point people but FBI labs there was zero evidence that this Shull kid had any background, contact or access to the Pacific Flu. There was lots on his computers, not to mention his blog, the YouTube videos, which he’d actually found really useful explaining how this bug worked, about “dual expressionism.” What there wasn’t was a scrap of the actual bug or any references to it. All the kid had worked with was “non human-pathogenic” materials. Mostly something called “colliphage lambda” whatever the hell that was. There was less evidence of H7D3 in the Shull home than in, say, the front lobby of the J. Edgar Hoover building. Which another report had just noted was lousy with the stuff.

He decided to let the Attorney General and the Bureau’s lawyers worry about it…

“There are still conditions under which he could be a questionable actor,” he typed into the memo. “Change his status to material witness and give him to the CDC. Keep somebody on him and don’t let him slip away…”

* * *

“My client is only ‘guilty’ of an extremely important scientific breakthrough…”

Dr. Curry thought you really had to love the caption: “Pacific Flu Killer’s attorney.” They didn’t even have the poor attorney’s name displayed.

“The FBI has shown no proof that my client had any part in creating the flu…”

Which from everything Curry was scanning, which was probably more than the attorney was being given access to, was true. Or at least the only part the kid had played was breakthrough syn-bio. Which meant he was going to have a fun time convincing the DOJ he wasn’t guilty. Assuming the world didn’t come apart entirely, the upside was that he’d be able to sue the crap out of the Federal Government and get more scholarships than you could shake a stick at.