He nodded. “I understand.”
He stayed by the window and watched, waiting for Monk to arrive.
CHAPTER 49
Fifteen minutes later he saw a large van working its way through the crowd. The van’s emergency lights flashed steadily, and the horn blared, barely audible over the noise of the crowd surrounding it.
“This will be what we’re waiting for,” Reynoso said.
The van finally reached the main gate. People pounded on it and rocked it from side to side, though they could have no idea who was inside, or what they were doing here. Then the gate swung open and the van drove through. The crowd surged forward behind it and the Security guards pushed in on them, forcing them slowly back, struggling for a couple of minutes before they were able to get the gate shut again. By then, the van had pulled up next to the Security building and stopped.
“Normally we’d bring them all inside,” Reynoso said. “But we’ve got unusual circumstances.”
“You’ve got a slug,” Carlucci said.
Reynoso sighed. “Yes, we’ve got a slug. Let’s go.” She signaled to the processing crew at the other end of the building, then walked out the door and toward the van. Carlucci followed.
The driver got out of the van and handed Reynoso a packet of documents. She glanced at them, then looked at the driver. “You and the attendants will have to wait here,” she said. “My people will drive the van, take the passenger out to the ship, then bring the van back.”
The driver nodded. “That’s what we were told.”
“You can wait inside.” She nodded toward the building. “There are chairs. Coffee, other things to drink.”
Reynoso approached the open side door, leaned inside. “Mr. Monk?”
“It’s just Monk,” said a voice from inside the darkness of the van.
“Okay. Monk. There’s someone here who wants to talk to you. Now, you are on Hunter’s Point grounds, under our jurisdiction, so you don’t have to talk to him. It’s up to you.”
“Who the hell is it?”
“Lieutenant Frank Carlucci of the San Francisco Police Department.”
A deep rolling laugh sounded from inside the van. “Of course I’ll talk to him. I was more than half expecting him. Send him in. There’s plenty of room.”
Reynoso stepped back. “Go ahead,” she said to Carlucci. “But don’t take too long. We’ve got to get him processed and loaded up. We’ve got a launch time to meet.”
Carlucci nodded. He approached the van, ducked his head, and stepped up, standing bent over just inside the panel door. There wasn’t much light inside the van. Monk was ensconced in something like a wheelchair surrounded by displays, fluid containers, and medical equipment. He looked just the same: a bloated, deformed body enveloped by shiny black rubber, head encased in a helmet, eyes hidden by goggles.
Monk smiled at him, the thick, distorted lips shiny with moisture. Carlucci stared at the slug, his mind blank, unable to remember what he’d wanted to ask.
“Well, Lieutenant?”
“You lied to me,” Carlucci finally said.
“Of course,” Monk replied. “Many times.” He licked his lips, the tongue as thick and bloated as the rest of him. “Three years ago, at our first session, I offered you a chance at New Hong Kong. A chance at a very long life. Real life extension. A hundred and fifty years or more.”
“You were so subtle about it, I didn’t even know it was an offer at the time. I didn’t figure it out until later.”
“Yes, that was a problem. But you wouldn’t have accepted the offer anyway.”
“No.”
“See, that’s when so many of your difficulties began.” He shook his head. “You were never very cooperative, and you’ve paid a high price for that.”
“Tell me now, Monk. What is going on? What has been happening all this time?”
Monk laughed. “I will tell you, Lieutenant Francesco Carlucci, and you’ll be sorry when I’m done.”
Maybe so, Carlucci thought. He could feel the weight of the case against his ribs. But they would both be sorry. He looked around for a place to sit, his back already sore from standing bent over, and finally settled on a metal crate behind the driver’s seat. He could just sit upright without hitting his head on the van ceiling.
“All right,” he said to Monk. “Tell it.”
Monk made a sound that might have been a chuckle. He made an adjustment to one of the control panels attached to the seat, and a panel began blinking green. Monk finally turned his goggled eyes directly toward him.
“Just confirming that you are not employing any recording devices,” he said.
Carlucci just shook his head.
“Okay,” Monk said, shifting his position. “I’ll start with the main thing.” He stared at Carlucci. “You ready for this?” And he paused again for effect. “New Hong Kong is responsible for Core Fever. Not Cancer Cell. Not nature. But New Hong Kong.”
He paused, as though waiting to let it sink in, or waiting from some response from Carlucci, but Carlucci didn’t say a thing. It was one of those statements that you immediately realize isn’t at all surprising, that you half knew already because it fit with so many other things. New questions started swirling around in his mind, but for now he said nothing, just waited for Monk to go on.
And Monk did. “It all flows out of that,” he said. “Once they were certain that it had fully taken hold in the Core and had begun to spread outward from it, presenting an undeniable health threat, they stepped forward to help. They were able to identify it as a virus not difficult, since they had provided it and they advised the CDC on containment measures.”
“The quarantines.”
“Yes, the quarantines. Particularly the quarantine of the Core. That was the real goal from the beginning. Sterilization of the Core. The Tenderloin quarantine was camouflage.” He waved a hand toward Carlucci. “Once that was accomplished, and enough time had passed to lend things a certain credibility, New Hong Kong announced the development of a vaccine for Core Fever.”
“A vaccine they’d had all along.”
Monk shrugged his bloated shoulders and nodded. “Yes, a vaccine they’d had all along. They would never have released a virus like that one unless they had a vaccine for it.”
“That’s real fucking humane of them,” Carlucci said, barely able to keep his anger in check, along with all of the other questions that still waited to be asked and answered. “But the vaccine is only fifty percent effective.”
“Probably closer to forty,” Monk said. He might have winced; with so little of his face exposed, it was difficult to tell. “That was a slight complication. It should have been close to one hundred percent effective. But somehow, probably through the use of the vector that introduced it into the Core, mutations occurred in the virus. There seem to be three major strains of Core Fever now, and the vaccine is only effective against one of them. Fortunately it is the dominant strain.”
“You call forty percent dominant?”
“It’s a little over forty percent of all cases, the other two each are responsible for less than thirty percent. And they’re working on developing a combination vaccine. The numbers should get better.”
“That’s just terrific. It’s insane, is what it is.” Carlucci could hardly sit still; he wanted to stand up and pace, or just get up and smash something. He could hardly believe he was having this conversation.
“Why?” he finally asked. It was the question he had been dying to ask, the most important question of all, and it seemed unbelievable to him right now that Monk could give him anything resembling a reasonable answer.
“Several reasons, actually. It began with the need to eliminate Cancer Cell, and they came up with a way to do it that accomplished other desirable results as well.”
“Cancer Cell?”
“Yes. It wasn’t really sterilization of the Core that was the ultimate goal. It was the sterilization of Cancer Cell.”
“Why?” Carlu
cci asked again.
“Business.” Monk left it like that for a while, as if that answer explained everything.
“Business,” Carlucci said.
Monk laughed. “Yes, of course. Cancer Cell was competition. It’s that simple. Well, maybe it’s not that simple, but that’s the core of the matter.” He laughed again.
“Competition,” Carlucci said, prodding, trying to understand.
“Oh, yes, competition. One of New Hong Kong’s most profitable businesses is the manufacture of high-grade, specialized, very expensive pharmaceuticals. They’ve got the patents all locked up here on Earth, in pretty much any country that could produce them.”
“I know all about that,” Carlucci said. “They ignore laws they don’t like, and exploit those laws that are useful to them.”
“They are a practical bunch,” Monk said. “But Cancer Cell paid no attention to patent laws. Not only were they manufacturing many of these high-grade pharmaceuticals not quite to the standard of New Hong Kong, of course, but close enough they were selling them on the street at drastically reduced prices. Now, that didn’t have too much effect on the legitimate sales, but New Hong Kong’s profits on the black market, on the streets, are actually greater than those on the legitimate end. And Cancer Cell was cutting way into those. They were trying to make these otherwise expensive and difficult-to-obtain drugs moderately priced and readily accessible. And the people in Cancer Cell didn’t have very high standards of living. That made it easy to keep prices artificially low.” Monk shrugged. “A noble ambition, certainly, but one quite at odds with New Hong Kong’s own philosophy, and one increasingly at odds with their business plans.”
He paused and licked his lips several times. He reached up for a piece of flexible tubing hooked up to a fluid bag, put it in his mouth, twisted a valve, and sucked on it. He offered some to Carlucci, but he refused.
“There was one more thing, which clinched the deal for New Hong Kong. It appeared that Cancer Cell’s researchers were making significant progress in the life extension area. New Hong Kong simply could not abide that. New Hong Kong is going to have absolute and complete control of any life extension treatments that are ultimately developed. In the coming years, control of that will be control of just about everything in life.”
“All of this, Core Fever, the quarantines, all these people dead and dying, all this was to eliminate a business competitor?” Even as he said it, it sounded incredible.
“Essentially, yes,” Monk answered. “As I said, it also was to have other positive benefits.”
“Like what?”
“The people in New Hong Kong thought the population could do with a bit of culling, if properly directed. A fatal disease epidemic that began in the Core and spread to the Tenderloin would pretty much target the kinds of people New Hong Kong wanted. Especially when a vaccine soon became available, in limited quantities, to the right people. You probably noticed the vaccine still hasn’t become widely available, although that will change fairly soon.”
“I noticed,” Carlucci replied. He shook his head, still having trouble believing what he was hearing. “Except the vaccine isn’t as effective as it’s supposed to be, so a lot of the ‘right people’ will end up getting Core Fever and dying.”
Monk nodded. “I’m afraid so. As I said, that was a complication.”
“That’s not a complication,” Carlucci said. “It’s a major fuckup.”
“That, too,” Monk agreed, smiling. “One of the other benefits was supposed to be good public relations from a successful vaccine. New Hong Kong seen as the world’s savior. Well, not now.”
Carlucci continued to shake his head. He turned away from Monk and looked out the open door of the van. From this vantage point he could see part of the mob pressing against the outer perimeter fencing, and he could just hear a generalized noise from them. “This is incredible. And how many people are going to die before this is all over?”
“Over the next five years,” Monk said, “about seventy million people in this country alone.”
Carlucci swung back around and stared at him. He hadn’t expected an answer, and he was stunned into silence.
“That’s a worst-case scenario,” Monk continued. “If the vaccine never gets any better. Approximately twenty percent of the population. There will be similar numbers in other countries, though it will vary greatly. In undeveloped countries, the percentages will end up much higher. In industrialized countries, probably lower, because they are already starting to take preventative measures.” He paused. “But if they improve the vaccine, especially if they can get it close to one hundred percent effective, those numbers will greatly drop. Not soon enough for San Francisco, of course, or most of California. Or, to be honest, for a lot of the country.”
“And they may not be able to improve the vaccine at all.”
“That’s a possibility, yes. But the researchers up in New Hong Kong are very good at what they do.”
Carlucci hung his head in his hands and stared at the floor. He felt sick, and dizzy. And then, one final thing fell into place. He raised his head to look at Monk.
“What was Yoshi Katsuda’s part in all this?”
“He was a liaison of sorts. All plans were made in New Hong Kong, and Katsuda’ s task was implementation of those plans here on Earth. He was to make sure everything went smoothly, make sure everything was done.”
“But his daughter found out about it.”
“Apparently. That was another complication, and he made it worse by killing her himself. He should have kept himself completely apart from that. He should not have spent the past two weeks in jail. He should not have caused New Hong Kong to expend so much in the way of resources to get him out.” Monk cocked his head. “You know he’s out, don’t you?”
Carlucci nodded. “So he took care of everything here in San Francisco,” he said.
“Yes.”‘
“Did that include my daughter?” he asked. “Christina.” Monk hesitated. “What about her?”
“She didn’t catch Core Fever from anyone. Someone came by, took advantage of her innocence, and pumped her full of Core Fever virus.”
Again Monk hesitated, then he nodded once. “I’m impressed, Lieutenant.”
“Fuck impressed. They killed my daughter, didn’t they? And you knew about it.”
“I said earlier. You’ve paid a high price for causing New Hong Kong so much trouble. You were one more side benefit to all of this. Both of your daughters would get Core Fever and die. You were to lose both of your daughters, and eventually they would have let you know they were responsible. They sent someone for Christina. They didn’t have to for Caroline. She took care of that herself, going into the Core and contracting it there. Unexpectedly, of course, she survived. If it is any consolation, the decision has been made to leave her alone. They believe her survival has earned her the right to a continued life. Of course, with the Gould’s she has a damn short life expectancy anyway.” He paused. “Whether they will leave you alone is another matter. I have no idea what they will decide for you.”
“They may not have to decide. After all, I’ve been vaccinated for Core Fever. If I become exposed to it, I’ve only got a forty percent chance of being protected.”
“Limit your chance of exposure,” Monk said. “That’s my advice.”
“Is that what you’re doing? By going to New Hong Kong? Limiting your exposure?”
“Not really,” Monk said. “If I had stayed in my quarters in the department, I could easily have eliminated any chance of exposure.”
“But you have been vaccinated?” Carlucci asked. Monk laughed. “Sure. Before it even broke out. And before we knew it wasn’t all that effective.”
Okay, that made it easier. “Then why are you leaving?”
“It’s time. This country is going to be greatly changed over the next few years. No way to know how, exactly, but it’s probably going to be a nightmare. Way too risky to stick around. No, it’s time.�
��
“Yes,” Carlucci said. “It’s time.”
He took the case out of his coat pocket, opened it, and took out one of the syringes.
“Lieutenant… what is that?”
He didn’t answer. He closed the case and tucked it away, then popped off the plastic cap over the tip of the needle.
“What…? Don’t come near me!” Monk cried. “HELP!” he shouted, pressing back in his chair. “HELP!”
Carlucci moved forward, grabbed hold of Monk with his left arm and his body, holding him fairly still. Monk squirmed and struggled, and he kept shouting for help, but he didn’t have much strength, and the chair helped keep him pinned down.
Carlucci managed to keep him still, exposing Monk’s left shoulder. Then he took the syringe and drove the needle through the black rubber and deep into Monk’s upper arm. Monk cried out again, and Carlucci slowly squeezed the plunger until it would go no farther.
He pulled out the syringe, and released Monk, staggering backward. He managed to keep his balance, sat down heavily on the metal crate. Then he picked up the case, put the empty syringe inside, closed it up, and tucked it back into his coat.
“What did you do to me?” Monk’s voice was hoarse with fear.
“You’ve got a forty percent chance,” Carlucci said.
“What?”
“You’re a slug,” he said. “You’re intelligent. You figure it out.”
Captain Reynoso leaned in through the open side door and looked around the inside of the van.
“I thought I heard shouting,” she said. “Is there a problem?”
“I don’t think so,” Carlucci replied.
“He—” Monk began.
But Carlucci cut him off. “You want to tell Captain Reynoso what I did, and why?”
Monk kept quiet. Reynoso stared at him a while, then turned to Carlucci. “I need to start getting him processed,” she said. “With all his special equipment, it will take longer to get him aboard.”
“I’m done here,” Carlucci said.
Reynoso nodded and backed away from the van. Carlucci turned toward the door.
Carlucci's Heart Page 35
