A few moments later, the door cracked open and Boss stuck his head into the gap. “I told you to move on.”
“I’m not selling anything.”
“So what’s with the case?”
Javier glanced at the case in his hand. This guy wasn’t likely associated with LifeFarm—he’d made that determination upon seeing how basic the facility was. But that didn’t mean he’d eagerly let Javier in. Maybe direct was the way to go. “I know about your bees dying. And about the virus.”
Boss grabbed Javier’s arm, shoving him through the outer door and onto the path. “We’re not doing anything against the rules here. Go tell your bosses we make vitamins using LifeFarm-produced ingredients. You have no evidence to the contrary and no reason to investigate us.” He slammed the door, and the sound of a dead bolt locking followed.
“Crap.” Javier paced in front of the building.
LifeFarm must have been sending scouts—spies—into these towns, probably to make sure the virus stayed a secret. Or maybe it was to enforce the use of their products. That would make sense, considering what Boss said. How could Javier convince these people he didn’t work for LifeFarm—and that he could potentially save them from the virus?
He sat on the step. Maybe if he didn’t leave, Boss would realize Javier was one of the good guys. The real spies likely didn’t stick around.
****
Frowning, Javier climbed into the van and put his case behind the passenger seat. Not trying to hide his frustration, he slammed the door shut, rattling the windows.
“Uh oh.” Liz raised her eyebrows. “What happened?”
“The boss threw me out. Wouldn’t even talk to me.”
“Did you tell them about the bees?” Liz pulled the van onto the road.
“I tried. I barely got five words in.”
“So, now what? Should we head to the university?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet.” Javier surveyed the town. “Where are we going?”
“You’re not meeting that girl until six, right? We have a couple of hours. Wanna go early?”
He shrugged, then remembered something. “Sam works at the university.”
“Can that help you?”
“Maybe she knows someone who works in virology.”
“Did she say what area she worked in?”
“No, but people usually know their coworkers.” The thread of hope he held was thin, but it was all he had to go on. Plus, the subject would give him an obvious topic of conversation when he saw Sam. Avoiding awkward silences wasn’t one of his specialties, especially if he was with someone who made him inexplicably nervous.
A few minutes later, Liz led Javier towards the diner bearing the girl’s name. “I came in earlier. The owner’s interesting.”
“You mean her dad?” Heat rushed to his face.
She laughed. “Yeah. Don’t worry. He’s not intimidating.”
Inside, a skinny, blond man was waving a black wand over the walls, tables, benches, and chairs. On the other side of the dining room, a man with long, light-brown dreadlocks opened a case and pulled out an acoustic guitar. He sat on a stool behind a microphone and plucked one string at a time, listening and twisting the pegs between each tone. Javier couldn’t see a tuner—the guy must have been doing it by ear.
Liz crossed her arms. “The owner is the live entertainment?”
“He’s the owner?” Javier looked away when the man made eye contact, pretending to be interested in the vintage movie posters hanging over each table.
“Come on.” Liz stepped towards the guitarist.
“What? Wait…”
Before Javier could protest further, she was halfway there. The owner looked at her and smiled. “Hey, again. Marie, right?”
“Right.” She gestured to Javier. “This is my nephew, Hector.”
The guy held out a hand. “I’m Jonah. I hear someone invited you. Girl with long black hair?”
Javier shook Jonah’s hand, doing his best to keep his nerves at bay. “Yeah.”
He laughed. “She loves bringing people here. Been doing it since she was little.”
“So this is your place?” Despite what Liz had said, Javier had trouble connecting Jonah to the girl he’d met at the coffee shop. Sam, with her jet-black hair and tan skin, didn’t resemble this man at all. Maybe she’d been adopted, or her mother was Hispanic and had all the dominant genes.
Jonah nodded and gestured to a photograph on the wall that showed a man with short brown hair and a wide smile. “I named the place after him. He was my brother. Samuel. Named my daughter after him too.” He plucked the last string and strummed the guitar. “Why don’t you two grab a booth? This place fills up on live music night. Me and a couple other acts perform.” Jonah played through a chord progression.
Javier and Liz settled at a booth. Before long, the wand-waving guy reached their table.
“What are you doing?” Javier asked.
He held up a finger, then ran the wand over their table and benches. “Sweeping for bugs.”
Liz leaned towards the guy. “Bugs? Like . . . microphones?”
“Yeah. We find them sometimes. Actually…” He ran the wand over Javier and Liz. “Okay, you’re clean.”
Liz laughed. “Who would want to listen to what happens in a diner?”
He answered without looking away from the wand. “Some around here like to have really big ears.” He stepped towards the next table.
Javier stood and followed. “Some who?” Leaning close, he whispered, “LifeFarm?”
Wand guy scanned the room and nodded, keeping his own voice low. “It’s like a game. They plant, we remove. We sweep whenever newcomers arrive.” He looked away, like he was embarrassed.
“You’re worried we left something?” Javier asked.
Wand guy shook his head. “I know you didn’t. Jonah said your aunt was legit. We rarely find a bug. It’s procedure, though.”
“Don’t they get upset about you removing the bugs? They could shut you down. Or worse.”
“We know that. They tried, actually. But we all have secrets.” He moved to the next table.
Javier returned to the booth. It seemed the people in this community had problems with bugs of every variety—those that listen and those that could infect. And what secrets would a diner have to use against LifeFarm?
As the sun set and the crowd grew, a bright bug zapper came on outside the window, sending a purple glow into the restaurant. Jonah strummed the guitar and sang an acoustic version of an old pop song into the microphone. Javier glanced at his watch. Sam would be here soon—maybe she would be early, expecting him to be on time. How would it appear if she saw him already seated? Would it make him look desperate?
“Have you noticed something about the people who live here?” Liz asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“Like what?”
“Look around.”
He didn’t notice anything unusual. “What am I supposed to be seeing?”
“Point out someone my age.”
Javier analyzed the place again. “There isn’t anyone.”
“Right. They’re all young.”
“Okay. So?”
“Don’t you think that’s weird?”
“I don’t know. The university is in the next town. Maybe there are just more young people around here. Or maybe the older people are afraid to go out at night.” He laughed.
“Yeah, because 5:30 is really late.” She sipped her soda and bobbed her head to the music. “He’s good.”
Javier focused on the music, remembering the tune from his elementary school years. Near the end, he glanced towards the bar. With a soda in hand, Sam approached the table, grinning when she made eye contact.
Javier couldn’t stop his smile.
“Hi, Hector. Glad you got here early. I forgot it was music night.” She held out a hand to Liz. “I’m Sam.”
Liz shook it. “Marie.”
Sam set her drink on the table. “I�
��ll be right back. I need to say ‘hi’ to someone.” She sauntered across the restaurant towards Jonah, who was in the middle of a chorus. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek, causing him to hit wrong notes and sing off key.
Laughter moved through the crowd. A few greeted Sam by name.
She took a bow, eliciting more laughter. Javier was enraptured—he could never dream of stealing the show like that.
“They’re obviously close.” Liz stood. “I’ll let you two sit together. There’s an empty stool at the bar.” She picked up her drink and left before Javier could argue—if he’d wanted to argue.
Sam took Liz’s place in the opposite seat. “Glad you could make it.” She hooked a thumb at Liz. “I didn’t mean to chase her off.”
“Oh. It’s okay. I think she’s giving us space.” To keep the awkwardness to a minimum, he added, “She’s my aunt. My mom has been pestering her to leave me alone.”
Jonah finished the song, and applause followed. Sam cheered.
“So, he’s your dad?”
She nodded.
“He looks young.”
She shrugged. “I guess. Haven’t really thought about it. Some people just look young for their age.”
“Does your mom look young too?” He suppressed a wince, wishing he could pull the words back as soon as they were out of his mouth. This girl he just met wouldn’t want to talk about how her mom looks.
Sam stirred her drink with her straw and pursed her lips. “My mom died when I was fifteen.”
Oh God. “I’m sorry.” His stomach sank.
“Don’t worry about it.” She took a sip, eyeing her dad. “She had cancer. It was less than a year after Dad opened this place. I thought he’d shut it down after . . .” She cleared her throat and focused on Javier. “Anyway, this ended up being a good way for him to keep busy. And he wanted to be present for me and my brother.” After another sip, she leaned into the table. “So what brings you to Hayes?”
Javier stopped tearing his straw wrapper into nanometer sized pieces and set what remained of it on the table. “I was trying to get a job at the lab down the road. But it didn’t work out.”
“Really? You’re a scientist?”
“Yeah. An entomologist.”
“That’s bugs, right?”
He nodded.
“They don’t do anything like that. What made you look there?”
Javier scanned the crowd; the other patrons focused on the music or on their own conversations. He leaned towards her. “It was a shot in the dark. Have you heard anything about a virus going around?”
“Yeah.” She pulled on her sleeve. “It’s getting colder now so the mosquitoes aren’t as busy, but we think it’s coming from them.”
“You’re right.” Javier weighed how much to say. The locals didn’t know who to trust, and after being tossed from the lab, he wasn’t sure what magic words might get him tossed from here.
“Okay. And . . . you can do something about it?”
“Well…” He glanced at the crowd again. What other options did he have? Sam was his only hope to get connected to the university. “I have what I need to create a vaccine. But there are people out there who don’t want me to have it or to tell anyone I have it. I also need to find someone who knows something about virology. That’s not my area.”
She sat with her mouth agape for a few seconds. “Seriously? That’s huge.” She stared at the band but didn’t seem to be listening. “I might know someone who can help you. I work in the biology department. Brenda teaches virology.”
“Really?” Javier’s pulse quickened.
She nodded. “We don’t get along, but she’s definitely not associated with LifeFarm. I’ll try to talk to her tomorrow.”
“Why don’t you get along?”
“She’s . . . pretty weird. Nerdy and private. She doesn’t get along with anyone, from what I can tell.”
That worked for Javier. He’d probably be able to relate to this mystery girl. “If she can help, it’s worth a shot.”
Chapter Eight
With his case in hand, Javier walked beside Sam towards the four-story building. The sun reflecting off the glass front, which was flanked by brick wings, reminded him of the science building at his own university. He paused to appreciate the nostalgia. He’d spent so much time in the science building that his roommate joked the school could save on Javier’s board if they just let him live in the lab.
Inside, the morning light spilled through the high windows. Bleary-eyed students wandered the halls, sipping from travel mugs and oblivious to the presence of a stranger.
Sam walked to a stairwell, holding the door open for Javier. “The elevator has been broken forever. I don’t think they’ll ever fix it.” Following him, she let the door slam behind her. “Brenda’s office is on the third floor. She’s like a mouse. She skitters around the halls and avoids everyone she doesn’t have to talk to—I think she’s a little paranoid. My brother worked with her a little his junior year. I was a freshman then.”
“Isn’t your brother working in pharmacology?” Javier pulled the information from what Sam had offered at the diner the night before.
She rounded the switchback and exhaled. “He worked on his pharmaceutical degree here. Studying virology was a graduation requirement. He’s in Arizona now, working on his doctorate. His mentor is there.”
Sam opened the third-floor door and turned left. A skinny woman with short, blonde pigtails darted out of a room, scurried down the hall, and entered the last office on the right. As she closed the door behind her, a bang echoed through the empty corridor.
Another woman, this one younger and with long, brown hair, left the same room the skinny woman had left but headed straight for Javier and Sam. She eyed Javier as she walked by.
Sam slowed enough for Javier to catch up then leaned towards him and whispered, “She’s LifeFarm.”
Javier stole a glance back. “How can you tell?”
“By what she says and teaches. It’s obvious. I’m pretty sure she’s getting kickbacks from them.”
Javier squeezed the handle of his case. If LifeFarm existed under this roof, how could he and the virologist create the vaccine without being discovered?
Sam continued down the hall, stopping at the office the skinny woman had entered. She knocked.
After a few seconds of silence, she spoke to the closed door. “Brenda, it’s Samantha Ward. I need to talk to you.”
Aside from the nameplate next to the door—Dr. Hagen—there was no indication the office was occupied. Brenda didn’t even keep a schedule of office hours, as the professors at Javier’s school had.
Sam knocked again.
A moment later, Brenda poked her head out the cracked-open door. She handed Sam an earpiece. As soon as Sam had it hooked around her ear, Brenda, who wore an earpiece of her own, said something Javier didn’t understand. It sounded Swedish.
Sam replied in English, gesturing to Javier. “This is my friend, Hector. He knows about the virus and can help us. But he needs a virologist to help him.”
The earpieces were translators. Javier had read about them but hadn’t seen them in use. He wanted to snatch Sam’s off her and try it.
Brenda responded in her own language while pointing at Javier.
“He’s an entomologist. You should see what he has. And we shouldn’t stay out here in the hall,” Sam said.
Scowling at Javier, Brenda opened the door enough for him and Sam to enter. She handed Javier another earpiece from a box full of them then took off her jacket, revealing a short-sleeved shirt featuring an anime character and arms covered with tattoos, mostly of flowers.
Brenda plopped into the leather chair behind the desk, and Javier and Sam sat in the metal folding chairs on the opposite side. Brenda leaned over, studying Javier, but turned her attention to Sam. She spoke, and a second later a soothing female voice speaking English came through Javier’s earpiece. “What makes you so sur
e you can trust this stranger?” Brenda’s harsh tone didn’t match the translator’s at all.
Javier laughed to himself.
“He figured out LifeFarm is responsible for the virus and wants to develop a vaccine,” Sam said. “Isn’t that why you haven’t started developing one from the patients? Because the sick could tell LifeFarm what you’re doing if persuaded?” Her words came through the earpiece, but in her own voice, as if she’d spoken into a microphone. “This way, you can keep vaccine development a secret because anyone involved already knows about it.”
Brenda shifted in her seat. “He could be here to set a trap. To see what side we’re on. And I didn’t start a vaccine on my own because it isn’t certain the spreading illness is from a single virus.” Her eyes went to the ceiling. “Plus . . .” She sat back. “I would be easily discovered here.”
Javier straightened up. “What do you mean you don’t think the illness is from a single virus? It obviously is. The symptoms are the same—first the patient thinks they have the flu, then it attacks the platelets, causing blood to clot. Unless the virus is successfully treated, clotted blood causes organ failure and death. I tracked patterns around the country. The fatalities are concentrated in the Midwest, in agricultural centers.” He looked at Sam. “How could a virologist in the same region as the virus not know these details?” He glanced at the door—maybe they should find somebody else.
Brenda slumped and crossed her arms, telling him she already knew everything he’d said. “Have you considered that in working for LifeFarm, you had more resources at hand to figure out such a thing?”
“So you’re waiting for them to solve it? That won’t happen. And I wasn’t working for LifeFarm.”
“Of course you were. Otherwise you wouldn’t have had access to such extensive data.”
Javier clenched his jaw. “My job was to find a way to combat hive demise. Finding the virus was an accident. I used what I found in the bugs and aligned it with patterns of illness in the communities. After I was sure the virus wasn’t airborne, I interviewed patients and doctors about symptoms to track patterns further. The numbers weren’t supplied to me. I thought I’d made a breakthrough—until they tried to kill me.” He fell back into his chair.
The Seventh Seed Page 7
