Burning Mold

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Burning Mold Page 4

by Jefferson Nunn


  He groaned as another flaw popped up and the swarm failed to catch the error in time. At this rate, any fifth grader would prove to be smarter than his $2 billion dollar screw up. As Chad settled in for another long night at the office, he glanced over at the photo of his wife and kids.

  He had seen this project become the panacea of the century in a newsletter they had delivered to their clients. In paper this was still true, and if they worked, most of the components they were building up would be a game-changer in any industry this was involved in.

  Originally Chad had imagined this at the heart of the largest corporations, handling billions of transactions per second, decoding and encoding, encrypting, and decrypting, pushing through so much per second that you would need nothing more than a dumb terminal to get what you needed out of it.

  The Cloud was dead, he was sure of it.

  Then someone who Chad wanted to slap thoroughly for their indiscretion had come up with the idea of giving a demo to some clients as a sales pitch. The excitement bubble this created went to an unprecedented level, and investors were now more eager than before to see a real presentation of the capabilities of this machine.

  To make matters worse, the problems that were accumulating were putting him on edge. The team had been in crunch mode for the last six months, and their latest adventure had not proven to be successful. Their in-house programming language had been horribly patched together and was barely able to hold everything together. The numbers Chad had seen gave him a headache.

  Out of the expected results, none were satisfactory. At this point in the project they needed to have this working at least at sixty percent efficiency, but for reasons unknown to everyone the machine was capped at twenty-two percent of its full capacity. No matter what they did, changed or removed, this would not work, and Chad knew this had to do with the hardware they had built for the project.

  Their hardware division kept insisting that nothing was wrong. It was all in the software.

  Chad had a suspicion this was a fault on both ends.

  Then there was the issue with some of the algorithms. While they all worked, it was not efficient. Sometimes they would confuse the source of the information and classify an industrial SCADA system with an end-user computer and bump up the graph to alarming numbers that made no sense, predicting a potential collapse and immediate maintenance, which in turn produced very angry calls from engineers on the other side.

  This is something Chad could not and would not abide by. That they had offered the product to different industries at no cost was an insult, but reassuring them that the system would be efficient out of the box was asking for a lawsuit.

  Why this had not happened was a mystery to Chad.

  But Maraschino was throwing it all at their Unified Automation System. Once you started feeding information from the Internet of Things devices, Servers and Computers, Websites, Databases, and any other methods (paper also, if that was still a thing), it would start to correlate everything and build large prediction graphs which could provide accurate information, up to ninety-six percent, on tendencies and potential opportunities and declines.

  All of this without having to do much, aside from routing information towards it.

  It also promised to erase millions of jobs around the world, but this was only told during the backroom dealings, because who would not want to save one-third of their expenses by simply hiring a machine to do menial and slightly complex work for a fraction of the price?

  All of this by selling your soul to the devil.

  And having all things considered if this project, God willing, made it past this whole mess and came to the market, then his days were also counted inside those millions who would lose their jobs with an expectation of at most ten years he had to make the most of this job.

  The only thing that really bothered him about this is that he had never discussed it with Nikki. He had made passing remarks about this but never brought everything onto the table because he knew what she was going to say about it, and she was right about it, but in the end, a job is a job and he was just doing what he had to do.

  Chapter 4

  The Northern Greens

  Boondocks, Alaska

  Cheryl woke up to the sounds of the nearby creek flowing. Feeling refreshed, she hopped out of bed and started her daily routine. She smiled at her sleeping husband. He had never been an early bird. After she showered, got dressed and prepared her body with light stretching, she stepped outside into the morning sun and set off on a light jog.

  Cheryl’s home in Nebraska was about 10 miles from the nearest city. She enjoyed the fresh air, and she grew plenty of foods in her greenhouse to keep her husband and her healthy. The automated farming system made life easy. Once a week she would have to go into the greenhouse to restock a few things. Otherwise, the system took care of all the watering and maintenance needed for fresh foods.

  As Cheryl rounded the corner to the driveway, she spotted her neighbor already outside on his farm and waved. Jim was an old-time farmer. He told stories about how his grandfather had bought those lands and had been determined to live the American Dream to its fullest. His ancestors were fiercely independent and relied only upon themselves to take care of their own families and their friends. As Cheryl got to the end of the block, she turned right again to head towards the greenhouses.

  The five greenhouses that Cheryl and her husband, Jack, had built were simple. With nothing more than some two by fours and some flexi-dome materials, they had built the entire set of buildings inside of a week. Solar power provided all the electricity needed. Water filtration was easy enough to do with the pump and the reverse osmosis system.

  For far less than the cost of an urban home, Cheryl and Jack could live comfortably right there. She entered the nearest greenhouse, which she called Demeter, after the Greek goddess of agriculture. As she stepped into the greenhouse, she breathed in deeply the rich oxygen environment and the plants all around her. Even the bees happily flew from plant to plant.

  Cheryl went over to the corner of the dome, which housed a small office. Although there was no technology in her house, there she was able to access the entire world using the computer and the new SkyLink satellite Internet. She turned on the PC, walked over to the water fountain and poured herself a cup of tea. She sat down and started checking through her emails. An email from a friend was disturbing….

  From: Jean

  To: Cheryl

  Subject: VIRUS OUTBREAK IN DALLAS?

  Many of our friends have all been sickened by a mysterious outbreak. Although they seem better today, some of these people were very sick. Albert was even vomiting blood, but the ER doctors did nothing. Albert is still a little bit sick today and not puking blood anymore, but he is still complaining of pain. Do you have any advice?

  She paused for a bit and decided to write back.

  From: Cheryl

  To: Jean

  Subject: Re: VIRUS OUTBREAK IN DALLAS?

  What did the tests come back with? Specifically, the CBC and the other tests? Many viruses incubate for 7 days and then usually dissipate. Can you send the lab reports?

  Cheryl knew that the Emergency Rooms would be on the front line of any outbreak, but they should have the tools to detect any kind of an outbreak. If a patient’s “Complete Blood Count” (CBC) came back as high but not too high, then it could be just a viral infection the body was fighting. Those days, doctors no longer rushed antiviral and antibiotics to every infection. Viruses and bacteria were becoming resistant to the medicine, so doctors held them back as a last resort.

  If Jean was worried, she was worried. Jean had an especially quick intuition about these things considering her upbringing. Jean grew up in Washington, DC and had an especially challenging time getting through school but she fought her way the top. Even in school, she identified outbreak markers quite early and Cheryl got the call from Jean that stopped an influenza outbreak right in its tracks in Europe. This strand could hav
e killed 15% of the world’s population in a matter of a week if it got out.

  Cheryl got up and decided to take a walk around the greenhouse. She checked on her carrots that were growing close by, and it looked like they would be a great harvest. She pulled one out of the ground and went over to the sink nearby. She washed it off, peeled it, and started munching on it right there. It was so delicious and sweet.

  Cheryl walked back into the house with a basket full of fruits and vegetables. Mike was already up and in the kitchen preparing some tea and breakfast.

  “Good morning,” Cheryl said, smiling.

  “Morning, sweetie,” Mike replied as he poured the tea.

  Mike set the tea on the table, along with some chopped fruits and a vegetable salad that looked divinely inspired.

  “This is great. Is this a new recipe?” asked Cheryl.

  “Yes, I read about it yesterday on the foodie blog,” Mike replied. “It tastes fantastic.”

  “Oh, I got an email from Jean. There’s a virus outbreak, apparently in Dallas.”

  Mike frowned briefly as Cheryl settled down at the table with him.

  “No, nothing like that. It seems like it’s already over.”

  Mike knew that Cheryl was one of the top researchers in the country and probably the world. Although she was semi-retired, just about every health organization in the world had Cheryl’s contact information. If there was an outbreak, Cheryl would be the first one they would call, especially her dear friend Jean.

  “Sweetie, let’s just enjoy this day. This afternoon is going to be loads of fun at the festival,” Mike said. “Al and his whole family is turning up to show off their crops.”

  “That’s great. I remember last year,” Cheryl said, laughing. “The kids hollowed out one of the pumpkins and Jackie jumped out in front of the judges, scaring all of them.”

  Mike and Cheryl laughed and began to eat breakfast. Cheryl really enjoyed her life here now. It was like a night and day difference between the suburban life she had led in town with the rural life here. With all the cell phones, computers, cars and all of those electrical and mechanical devices, the town felt so noisy. Here in Nebraska, she felt a huge relief from all of that. When she walked out the front door, she could feel the calm in the air, free from any vibrations from all those devices and machinery. Everything felt so much more at peace and she was able to enjoy the pristine and serene environment.

  Plants can be affected by sounds and vibrations. One study showed that plants can detect fear from other plants. Even music affects a plant’s development. Cheryl spent some time creating the greenhouses and enjoyed working with the plants. Mike helped out with the plumbing and electrical setup. Together, they enjoyed their blissful retirement.

  “Semi-retirement.” Cheryl winced at the thought. It would probably be only a matter of time before someone would call about something. She had lectured extensively and had written several books and papers. No one had a better knack for identifying the cause of an outbreak and determining the best cure or mitigation options than she did. Her work on the West Nile virus had led to a simple detection kit that had cut down the spread of the disease by 90%.

  “I’m going to head on over to the Young farm. I’ll see you at the festival,” Mike said.

  “You bet,” said Cheryl.

  She put the dishes into the sink and began cleaning up. She sighed as she watched Mike head out to the car. She really enjoyed the simple life.

  “Jean Callahan,” said Jean as she answered her extension. She was distracted by the model she had been building through the information obtained from what she was still assuming was a potential outbreak in Dallas.

  “Well, Jean, that’s too formal of you,” said Cheryl, almost laughing as she mentioned this. “Always keeping it professional?”

  “Cheryl, sorry. I did not see the number,” said Jean as she turned to the phone and saw the number and name. “How are you?”

  “I am worried about what we are seeing in Dallas; did you get a green light for the investigation?” asked Cheryl. Jean sighed as she dropped into her chair. “I take that as a no.”

  “Florida is more of a priority now, but I am sure we are on the right path here. I created a model for this particular case and the number of infected is far too low for an initial infection for such an area,” said Jean, who continued. “Fortunately we also have the source of this information. There is a Doctor Sandberg involved in many of these cases.”

  “Any particular pattern that you have found?” asked Cheryl.

  “None so far. It is inconclusive from the data he sent us, but there is something that keeps gnawing at the back of my head,” answered Jean. Cheryl thought about this situation.

  “Can you send me the results you have?” asked Cheryl. Jean took no time in finalizing what she was doing and sent it over her way. As soon as Cheryl saw the information, she could see that there was a large gap in the time period and the number of infected. In such a large metropolitan area, it made no sense that no additional infected cases were showing up.

  “Have you correlated this with other sources on this information?” asked Cheryl. Jean looked at a pile of papers she had printed while her inbox was still full of information. None related so far, but Jean was still not giving up on it.

  “I have, but none are conclusive that there is a larger area of infected cases at this point. One thing I did find was that most of the information is coming from the Cityplace area of Dallas,” said Jean. Cheryl saw the model again and looked at the map. What was mentioned did not match the map, as it showed that some of the infected people lived all over Dallas.

  “How did you arrive at this conclusion?” asked Cheryl.

  “The information sent to us comes from hospitals and clinics inside that area. I know that the model shows that the infected people live all over Dallas, but the only thing they have in common is that everyone attended to their cases there,” said Jean. Cheryl understood that the pattern was potentially inside this area and assessed the situation.

  “We may have something very dangerous brewing if this particular area is the source of infection,” said Cheryl as she was looking up more information about Cityplace. Nothing that she found about the area revealed anything that could be immediately pointed out. “Have you contacted the doctors involved in this event?”

  “I have not been able to speak with anyone except Doctor Sandberg. He said that he was willing to talk about it, unlike his peers,” said Jean.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” asked Cheryl.

  “I do not know. He did not want to be very explicit over the phone and insisted we could talk all about it once I got there,” answered Jean.

  “Jean, why aren’t you there?” asked Cheryl. Jean was caught by surprise by this.

  “I did not receive the authorization to move forward with this,” answered Jean.

  “You need to go there and investigate if you have a doctor who is willing to talk while the rest refuse. You need to be there and see what is happening. The last thing we need right now is another pandemic,” said Cheryl. Jean felt goosebumps run through her body as Cheryl stated this.

  “But what about--” said Jean before being interrupted by Cheryl.

  “Jean, you need to do this. I know it sounds like a risk, but this is important, far too important to let bureaucracy and politics get in the way, understood?” asked Cheryl.

  “I will find a way,” said Jean.

  Chapter 5

  No Recovery

  Downtown Dallas, Texas Memorial Hospital

  “What’s your name and date of birth?” the nurse asked.

  “Elizabeth Palmer, May 5th, 1964,” replied the patient. “But call me Liz.”

  “Okay, Liz. Today we’re going to be doing an endoscopy and colonoscopy. My name is Laura, and I’m going to be escorting you to the procedure room,” she said. “It should take only about 45 minutes and we’ll be done.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” said Li
z. “Could I have some water?”

  “No, I’m sorry. We’re about to give you some anesthesia,” Laura said as Liz was being wheeled into the procedure room. “But when you wake up, you can have all the water that you want.”

  Once Liz was in the procedure room, the doctor, anesthesiologist and Laura all began monitoring various pieces of equipment, hooking them up and calling out statistics.

  “BP 130/80. Pulse 84,” Laura said.

  “Procedure start,” the doctor said.

  “Count backwards in your head from ten,” the anesthesiologist said.

  Liz got to eight before losing consciousness. The next thing that Liz recalled, she woke up in agonizing pain all over her body. She moaned and called out for the nurse.

  “Liz? What is wrong?”

  “Everything hurts,” Liz said.

  “On a scale of 1 to 10, how badly does it hurt?”

  “10,” Liz moaned.

  “Okay, I’m going to call the doctor over,” Laura said.

  After a few agonizing moments for Liz, the doctor came over.

  “I’m Doctor Sandberg. Could you tell me what is going on?”

  “Everything in my body hurts. What happened?” asked Liz, while moaning and writhing in the bed.

 

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