by M. C. Miller
“We can’t stay here long. You can read all this later but right now there are a couple of things you should see.”
A span of five documents opened, each one offset and on top of the last. Malcolm turned the laptop to face Janis. As her eyes raced down the page, Malcolm rushed to give details.
“Riya wasn’t a spy. She got into something she wasn’t supposed to see. Then she made the mistake of confronting the wrong people about it.”
The next moments crashed over Janis as waves of information overload. She listened while her eyes disbelieved what they read.
Malcolm forced a summary through rising pain and anger.
“Riya discovered certain parts of GenLET were being passed to a secret lab in Austria. She must have stumbled on it by accident and was curious. When she dug deeper, she found out the Austrian lab was preparing a select agent.”
Janis interrupted. “Select agent – that’s what you overheard on the phone. You said Riya was upset because they were selecting an agent.”
“It was right there all the time. I missed it.”
“With all the talk of spies, a bio-defense meaning slipped my mind.”
“We both missed it.”
“A select agent – a biological agent that is or could be weaponized.”
“They’re planning on having a startup company in Shaanxi Province, China produce it for them.” Malcolm pointed at a document. “It’s right there – the place is in the Baoji Hi-Tech Industrial Development Zone.”
Janis felt flushed even as a chill went through her. “What does GenLET have to do with a biological weapon?”
“A trickier question is why would Eugene Mass want to produce one.”
“Mass?”
“He’s behind the Austrian lab. I also think he was on the phone call I overheard with Riya.”
“What exactly are they making?”
Malcolm pointed to another document. “It’s called the 3rd Protocol.”
“But what is it?”
“An influenza virus – designed to take out six billion people.”
“What!” Janis thought she had heard wrong.
“The mission statement is clear. The 3rd Protocol is being designed to selectively, surgically collapse human population. Thin the herd. The goal is a world population stabilized at 500 million – and kept there.”
“This can’t be real…there must be some mistake.”
“Don’t you see? Riya knew too much. They couldn’t take the chance of her going public.”
“You’re saying Mass had her killed?”
“The simplest explanation is usually correct. Riya was in a position to expose his plot and I know from the phone call she didn’t like what she’d found. At the same time, New Class Order has been winning over hearts and minds around the world, creating doubters about life extension therapies. The elegant solution was to take her out and have NCO blamed for it.”
“There’s more to it. I still think NCO knows something about Alyssa. It doesn’t make sense for Mass to kidnap her.” A swirl of possibilities spun Janis dizzy. “GenLET has nothing to do with an influenza pandemic.”
“From what I read, the Austrian lab is not interested in GenLET directly. It’s after the ingenious way you devised to deliver the therapy so quickly.”
“Nothing about my work is a weapon.”
“You developed a way to genetically alter bone marrow, the place where blood is produced. That little bit of magic convinces the body to produce a continual, slow-release of GenLET therapy agents over time – directly from the marrow. Riya even predicted when news of your work got out, you’d be the one with a Nobel Prize.”
“I don’t understand. What does bone marrow have to do with this thing – this 3rd Protocol?”
“The 3rd Protocol’s pathogen needs a way to target the overall population based upon individual blood markers. What better place to target blood than bone marrow? As twisted as it sounds, the reasoning is egalitarian. They want the more populace ethnic groups affected by the 3rd Protocol more aggressively.”
“The virus is being engineered to profile by race?”
Malcolm nodded. “Mass consulted a series of whitepapers put out by something called 8-Ball.”
“8-Ball?”
“Yeah. Here’s one of their studies. It concludes…”
Malcolm read from the screen.
“…the most equitable method of population collapse would take into consideration the proportional segments of ethnic diversity. By definition, the most numerous people produce the greater portion of the population problem facing the Earth. To be just, a larger carbon footprint, nationally or ethnically, would by necessity require a comparatively larger share of pruning.”
“He’s designing a virus that racially profiles to ensure the same ethnic diversity after the population collapses?”
“And something in your work makes that possible.”
“That’s crazy. What the hell does he think he’s doing?”
“According to the plan, it’s necessary to save the Earth.”
“Murdering six billion people!”
“The 8-Ball studies include all kinds of simulations and projections, even contingency plans for post-collapse scenarios. One study points out that 60% of the world’s population is in Asia, 40% in China and India alone. That’s why it recommends releasing the agent first in Asia, especially in large seaport cities. They’ve done a lot of research on swine and bird flu, anything where genetic data transfers from animals to humans…”
“Zoogenic agents…”
“He wants it to look that way. It’ll be a good cover story.”
“My God…”
“Do you have any idea what 8-Ball could be?”
Janis strained to focus. “No. I don’t.”
“Mass uses whitepapers sponsored by 8-Ball to anchor what he’s doing. I’m not certain, but it looks like Mass isn’t working alone.”
Janis thought back. “There’s only one thing I can think of – but it couldn’t have anything to do with this.”
“You never know…”
“Back at USAMRIID, when I worked there, they had this thing in Building 527 – a test sphere. It had many names but everyone knew it by its nickname. 8-Ball.”
“What was it?”
“A huge biological warfare chamber, a testing facility; they called it the one-million-liter test sphere.”
“A million liters – that’s quite a test.”
“It’s a relic. The whole thing was decommissioned long time ago. They only keep it because it’s the largest aerobiology chamber ever constructed. It’s on the National Register of Historic Places.”
“What rubbish!”
“It has to be something else. The 8-Ball test sphere has nothing to do with this.” Janis navigated to another document.
The ring of Malcolm’s phone startled them both. He answered it; the conversation was brief. Janis continued to cycle through open documents.
“Who’s that?”
Malcolm was grim. “NovoSenectus. They need me for an assignment right away.”
“Were you expecting this?”
“My work is far less predictable than yours. It’s hard to say.”
Paging through windows on the screen, Janis inadvertently brought up a saved copy of an email. As quick as her eyes could scan, they fell upon a word that shocked her.
“What’s this?”
Malcolm craned his neck to get a look. “Oh, I forgot to close that. It’s an email from an old contact. Why? What’s the problem.”
“What’s this list of words?”
“It’s just a list of words. No bother.”
Janis braced herself. “What contact? Where did you get this?”
“Why do you need to know?”
Janis felt like she was surrounded and had just opened her eyes. “Tell me what this is! Are we working together or not!”
“All right, all right. I know someone who has a hacker on his payroll.
The hacker uses searchbots to troll government networks looking for new words. That’s all it is.”
“What kind of new words?”
“Acronyms, jargon, anything really.”
“What good are they to you?”
“Everything starts somewhere. If you want to find icebergs, look for the tips. It’s amazing what pops up in regular conversation, often unclassified. A simple acronym can be a clue to a whole lot more.”
“Who is this person, this contact of yours?”
“You don’t really expect me to tell you. What’s your problem anyway? If we’re working together, as you say, then explain.”
Janis took a deep breath. Her eyes riveted to the screen.
“I recognize one of these words.”
Malcolm jerked with interest. “Which one?”
“BIOPONORE.”
“No shit! What does it mean?”
“I know what it means to me.” Janis stiffened as she looked over at Malcolm. “Biological Point of No Return.”
“How in the devil do you know that?”
A sour smile creased Janis’ lips. “You won’t believe it.”
“Try me.”
Janis admitted, “I made up the word – over twenty years ago.”
Doubt shocked Malcolm’s face. “Like bloody hell you did!”
A fog of memory held Janis rapt. “Back in college I made it up to tease my best friend. She liked to study and I liked to party. She thought I dated around too much. I thought she was afraid of men. I used to rag on her about how fast her biological clock was ticking. I laughed at her and said a lot of rude things. I told her she’d never have any children unless she loosened up. I warned her BIOPONORE was coming.”
“Charming. What does that have to do with my email?”
“This can’t be a coincidence! What are the chances somebody else made up the exact same crazy word?”
“What am I supposed to believe – that your friend is using your word as part of some government project?”
“The last I heard, my friend was still working at USAMRIID.”
“Really.” Malcolm was suddenly more serious. “The same place that has that thing – the test sphere.”
Janis nodded. “8-Ball.”
“What’s your friend’s name?”
“Faye Gardner. We haven’t spoken in years.”
“Why not?”
“A lot of things. We didn’t agree on the dual-use aspects of our work. Later…it got personal.”
“Do you think she’d work on something like 3rd Protocol?”
“No! Of course not.”
“It doesn’t look good. We know Eugene Mass is using research from 8-Ball to plot the collapse of world population. 8-Ball might be his nickname for USAMRIID, the place that has the massive test sphere. Now we find out there’s a good chance your friend, who just so happens to work there, might be connected to something called Biological Point of No Return. It doesn’t take much to connect the dots.”
“She wouldn’t do such a thing. Besides, you can’t actually think the US government is mixed up with Eugene Mass in a plot to kill six billion people?”
“Not the government; maybe powerful elements hidden within. Some things are kept so secret, I doubt even the government knows how they operate or get funding.”
“Faye and I may not be friends now but I know her. She wouldn’t be a part of this.”
“Look at it another way. Maybe some deep-cover research group discovered something about climate change, or the depletion of oil reserves, or an impending fresh water crisis, something big. If a secret branch of government was convinced that a catastrophe was about to hit the planet, who could stop them from deploying their solution?”
“The 3rd Protocol.”
“If you had to decide between everyone dying or a preemptive strike to thin the herd and save humanity, what would you choose?”
“You’re assuming they would only have those two options.”
“It would make sense to move the project offshore, outsourced to a like-minded mogul, someone who could cloak the real work behind something as controversial as life extension. It’s the magician’s art of misdirection.”
“You’re talking hypothetical nonsense.”
“As hypothetical as scientists being murdered and children being kidnapped? As hypothetical as Riya telling me her contact at GeLixCo was none other than another ex-employee of USAMRIID – your ex-husband Colin? You say he’s disappeared. How convenient, especially if he’s now working for a deep-cover branch of government.”
The references to Alyssa and Colin struck home. Janis decided to force the issue. “We can’t be sure. I won’t jump to conclusions based on a word on a random list – a list from somebody who got it from somebody else. We need more information and you have contacts. Whoever sent you this email must know more – or they can find out more. The stakes are high enough – you need to lean on them.”
Malcolm took back the laptop and closed it.
Janis sensed his reticence was strategic but wasn’t sure.
“Who’s behind the email? What’s going on? All I want is my daughter back! Did somebody put you up to this?”
As Janis broke down into tears, Malcolm grabbed her by the arm
“All right. I’ll tell you what I can. Do you remember, years ago, when a group calling itself Friends of the Ocean got their hands on plastic-eating microbes and dumped them in the ocean?”
“I think so…”
“The microbes were stolen from the U.S. Navy. The thief was never caught and Friends of the Ocean never gave up their source.”
“So what.”
Malcolm leaned closer. “A few years ago, I got a tip. It led me to some incriminating evidence – evidence that identified the man who stole those microbes.”
“But you said the thief was never caught.”
“That’s right. Since then, I’ve been leveraging what I know. As long as the thief sends me email with answers to my questions, I sit on the evidence.”
“You’re blackmailing him?”
“He’s in a very sensitive position, with access to all sorts of things. He doesn’t want to jeopardize what he has. In exchange, I’m willing to do business with him.”
“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me his name.”
“Makes no difference. It’s the same name he and I agreed upon years ago.”
“What is it?”
“Knockout Mouse.”
“Strange. Any reason for the genetic reference?”
“You’d have to ask him. He came up with the name but it fits him. Over the years, he’s impressed me as somewhat of a social mutation. Maybe he sees himself the same way – just an engineered little mouse. He’s the mutation that shows us how full functioning we are by comparison.”
“Sounds like you two have an odd relationship. Symbiotic yet parasitical.”
“In my experience, those two aren’t so far apart. The friend of my enemy’s enemy is still not my friend. And now that I’ve told you that, it’s your turn. You’re hiding something about Colin.”
“Why would I?”
“He’s the father of your child. You loved him once. You still may. It’s only natural.”
“We didn’t have that kind of divorce.”
“Aren’t you the least bit curious why Riya named him as her contact at GeLixCo?”
“Of course I am.”
“But not enough to ask him.”
“Have you heard anything I said?”
“How convenient.” Malcolm checked the time by glancing at his phone. “I’ve got to go.”
“Just like that? And what do we do about all of this?”
Malcolm looked Janis up and down. “That’s one big fucking question. What do you want to do?”
Janis stared out at nowhere. “I don’t know. If in doubt, I go the way I feel. Especially if what I know doesn’t make sense.”
Janis opened the car door to go but Malcolm stopped her.<
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“Here – take these.” He handed over his laptop and cell phone.
“What’s this?” Janis had them in hand but froze.
“I’ve got this assignment to do. I don’t want to risk having Riya’s backup found on me. My private phone has emails from Knockout Mouse. I still have my work phone. Keep them for me until I get back. I’ll give you a call.”
Janis accepted the laptop and phone with a nod.
Malcolm stopped her again as she leaned out the door.
“Hey – it’s better knowing what we know.”
Janis muted her reaction. She stepped out of the car and held the door open. Within her, a sinking feeling told her the world had changed. The sunlight felt foreign, lighting a place where darkness hid in plain sight.
The impulse to answer Malcolm passed.
She shut the door and walked away.
Chapter 7
Near the Forest of Soignes
South of Brussels, Belgium
Plush carpet muffled the hurried steps of Leah Mass. The estate house was large but Leah knew right where to find her husband. With each stride along the hallway, sounds of conversation and family laughter faded from the first floor below. So did the warmer light.
Eugene expected his wife to barge into his study any second. His meditation had overstayed its welcome yet, as the door opened and Leah rushed in, he couldn’t move from the window. A dutiful diversion had become a brooding daydream. All sense of purpose was lost on a higher but elusive focus. It was all he could do to watch the last light of day fade from the woods in the west.
“There you are…” Leah pretended her discovery was incidental. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything?” Purposely not loud enough, the word couldn’t be a question.
Leah closed the door behind her. She was accustomed to maintaining privacy in the study. She approached her husband from behind and laid hands on him with gentle reserve, as if not to startle him.
“Everyone downstairs misses you.”
“I was just about to come down.”
Eugene Mass turned and read the concern on his wife’s face. She was still a beautiful woman, at least to him. Sixteen years younger than he, she was his second wife and far more of a kindred spirit than anyone he had known.
