“Dormant . . . dormant . . .” Rory repeated to herself. Figure it out, for fuck’s sake! she wanted to scream.
Her wrist phone, the new one Jeff had issued her when she arrived, buzzed against her skin. She turned her wrist up. Navy was messaging. The light illuminated her forearm, projecting the message across her skin: Last transition, all comms going off soon. I love you. Should have said it in person.
When her hand came to her mouth with a silent gasp, Petre sensed she might like some privacy and excused himself. She messaged back: I love you. I should have, too. Please be safe.
Then he replied: Don’t worry. I took the fish-blood oath. I’ve got your strength.
She thought of their night and morning, and her blood warmed at the recollection of his strong body touching hers. She didn’t want to correct him that, scientifically speaking, he wouldn’t still have her antibodies in his bloodstream. He meant it in a more poetic sense.
Rory froze then, her eyes rising but seeing nothing in the room as a memory fresh from their morning crystallized in her brain. Navy had been standing beside the bed as she lay smiling up at him, watching him dress. The memory overlaid that of the time at the hospital when he lay on the gurney and she stitched closed his wound, too shy to remove his pants so she could do a better job, but curious if the blue marks went beyond his waistband.
This morning’s memory was different. The blue marks had started above his navel.
They had shifted. Lightened, too, across his chest. As if they were changing, disappearing, turning off.
No, you idiot. It’s the reverse. Something turned on, something altered. Activated.
She didn’t yet understand, but she knew she would soon. She texted him urgently: Wait, don’t turn off comms. Don’t do anything. Wait for my next message.
“Petre!” she shouted, and then she screamed it.
CHAPTER 30
* * *
Outside Woodstock, Virginia
At their camp on the backside of a low bluff that gave them a vantage point into the compound, Navy sat across from Army as both men waited impatiently for his wrist phone to message again. Finally it buzzed, and he frowned curiously.
“She’s asking if I have the ability to do a hologram video communication. Is that going to set off alerts?” Navy asked.
Army reasoned, “I just don’t think they know yet that they should be listening around here to cell communications. I would bet it’s all right. But it resets our clock—I still want a full twenty-four-hour quiet period before we try to head in.” As their comms expert, he believed strongly in electronic silence as key to a surprise attack. Analysts who were assigned to surveil for activity as a defensive measure got bored quickly, and that was when Army felt it was best to move—when those watchers had distracted themselves.
They set up a holo-pad and connected back to Rory’s station at the rig, and her face filled the screen with Jeff, Petre, Byron, and Persephone in the visible background.
“What’s going on?” Navy started.
“I think we’ve figured it out. You messaged me about the fish-blood oath, and I was thinking about things and I remembered this morning—anyway,” she halted, blushing furiously. “Look under your shirt. Look at the marks. They’ve changed.”
Surprised, Navy glanced down, pulling open his jacket and dragging up his shirt. The move revealed abdominal muscles that were marked with blue, but far less than a few weeks ago. He hadn’t even noticed.
“We’ve been trying to figure out how my DNA sequences are full of all this nonsense, and we can’t match them to any human genetic sequences. Petre crossed-checked them against his phage libraries and they match! They lie dormant, embedded into the code until—”
“Rory, wait. I don’t understand. Tell me simply.”
She took a long breath. “I realized if your marks were changing, something had to have been activated, something that was embedded in your cells and lying dormant until I gave you a transfusion. I think whatever they gave you years ago was a bacteriophage and that it embedded into your genetic sequences, where it waits for signs of bacterial infection. I guess the sepsis you contracted revived it, or I revived it, too. My DNA has the DNA of viruses in it, viruses that are hiding out in a safe place and becoming part of our cells, part of our immune systems! They are viruses that kill bacteria. We did it, Navy. We have the cure!”
Navy was too stunned to answer. “I . . . I don’t get it. It’s been with me all along?”
“Yes! And you too, Army. We have more work to do, but I guarantee you some of those survivors in my database and at the compound there—they must have evolved or acquired the same viral embedded protection. I’ve got to get there and get blood samples to be sure, but—”
“You’re not coming here, Rory.”
“Plan F,” Army intoned cheerfully.
Jeff perked up. “Plan F? Why?”
Rory looked over her shoulder at him, stumped.
Army replied, “It’s the best bet. Clean sweep, full takeover. Hopefully not too hostile.”
“It’s dangerous. We don’t know enough.” Navy shook his head, his eyes on Rory’s.
“So we’ll work here until we do while Jeff sends in backup.”
“I can work on backup,” Jeff nodded.
“Hey! I explained my concept. Now what the hell are you guys talking about?” Rory interrupted.
Army seemed concerned suddenly, looking through the screen projection of her at something else. He crossed in back of its camera, out of sight. They heard him say, “Comms off.”
Suddenly the screen went black, and Navy’s face and a backdrop of forest disappeared from Rory’s holo-laptop screen. She spun to look at Jeff questioningly. He shrugged.
“They were talking about bringing in more support and having a full team storm the compound.”
“What happened? Why did it drop off?” She tried to call them again and got no connection, then tried twice more as panic gnawed at her throat.
Jeff started for the door.
“I’m calling in reinforcements.”
CHAPTER 31
* * *
Hibernia Wind and Energy Farm
Rory returned to the lab and tried to focus. She needed to work on building experiments that could confirm their theories about her DNA. She and Petre proposed to the research team that the fastest method would be to introduce her blood to an infectious bacteria in vitro, strictly in the lab setting, and see if they could prove bacteriophage activity happening. If that result was positive, meaning her cells had made bacteriophage viruses as an immune response, then they would attempt to translate it into a mouse model. To achieve that, they would provide one set of mice a gene therapy to impart the same ability to make bacteriophages within their own cells. Another control set of mice would not be given the gene, but both would then be injected with bacteria. The results—meaning which survived the infections—would be a strong indicator of whether their theory was right.
When the teams split to get to work on constructing the experiments, Rory was left to herself and her worries. She sought out Jeff, and found him, Byron, Persephone, and their computer analysts in a meeting. A large table was flanked by about ten different computer screens that all seemed to be tasked with different efforts. The analysts kept their backs to the table but periodically turned to quietly report something.
“Can I join you?” she asked as she walked in and took a seat, intending to stay regardless of their answer.
“Sure,” Jeff nodded. “We’re working on this from a couple angles. I’ve reached out to private military groups with black-ops experience I can hire to get to the compound Navy and Army targeted and provide backup as needed, and get an extra helicopter here with them.”
“Honey, you need to know—if this cure works, we have a lot of decisions to make about how to announce it and take down TEAR for once and for all,” Persephone explained to Rory with a motherly hand covering hers. “I know you’re worried about Navy, b
ut he’s a pretty tough guy.”
Rory looked to Jeff. “What do you think? Are they okay?”
Jeff made the facial equivalent of a shrug. “I agree with Persephone—there’s nothing they can’t handle, and I don’t think the compound was heavily fortified. We’re trying to get access to today’s satellite images now and comb through them for anything that tells us more about why Army called for communications silence.”
“Navy told me that the guy in charge of TEAR, Kessler . . . he’s dangerous, manipulative. What more do you actually know about him? He knew Navy and Army personally and tried to have them killed. Wouldn’t he try again if he found out they were alive?” Rory asked.
Jeff glanced at Persy, who nodded her assent.
“We worried along the same lines,” he said. “Before Persephone left TEAR and feigned death, she had reason to believe that Navy and Army and their team weren’t the only people used as human test subjects.”
“Jason Rajni admitted as much to me,” Persy told her daughter. “That was when we knew that if I didn’t fake my death and try to do research elsewhere, more people would be in danger.”
Byron asked, “How much does the government know about the human trials? About the deaths?”
“Nothing, I think. I suspect that Kessler bullied Rajni into it because so much money had already been spent on research that he needed something to show for it. Even one patient surviving would have been news to share and keep the cash flowing in until a real cure could be found.” Persy shuddered as she remembered Kessler. “Kessler was a snake, the kind who charmed his way up the congressional ladder and only aspired to more power.”
“So what’s next?” Rory asked. “I want to go with your teams to the compound.”
They all responded simultaneously: “No.” “That’s not happening.” “Hell, no.”
“Oh, give me a break. I’m not going to play SEAL team six. I’ll wait until it’s safe and then help with the survivors.” She rolled her eyes and announced, “I’m going.”
Jeff raised a hand to both of her parents. “Let me just disabuse you of this notion, Aurora. If Army and Navy and even my teams were to be met with a full military contingent—something Kessler is perfectly capable of—you’d be the perfect bargaining chip. But only if you’re here, where they can’t find you.”
Byron leaned across the table and slammed down a fist, and the analysts all jumped a little in surprise. “My daughter isn’t your fucking bargaining chip.” His eyes blazed at Jeff, who looked respectfully bemused.
“I wouldn’t play that hand unless I absolutely had to, to save our team. Even then, Kessler wouldn’t touch her. We already have the upper hand if Rory’s theory proves out—and all we would need is to buy more time to prove it.” He pointed a finger at Rory. “Which is why you’re staying right here and proving it. It took you only three weeks to solve the puzzle we’ve been stumped by for three years. You’re not going anywhere near what could become a war zone.”
Mollified, Byron leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, but he couldn’t resist lobbing an arrow across the bow. “So tell me this, brilliant tech billionaire: Why do you have only one helicopter?”
Jeff let out a sigh. “That’s a fair point.”
CHAPTER 32
* * *
Outside Woodstock, Virginia
“You know I’m right. It’d be much more pleasant to go through this if you’d just admit that.” Sitting on a fallen log at their campsite, he watched Navy sharpen his knife as they waited for dusk.
Navy grunted in reply and kept sharpening.
“Look, I won’t tell anyone you got captured.”
“You’re damned right you won’t. This is not a capture.”
“That’s right. It’s just a strategic surrender.”
The knife thudded into the log beside Army’s thigh.
“Fair point,” Army agreed. “Look, I know I’m right. If there was any chance, any, that they heard Rory’s transmission, they’ve got a massive leg up, and we need to both distract them and take down this whole compound.”
Navy sighed. “I get it. Comms off, Rory and the team are safe, and Jeff is probably already recruiting for Plan F. So I’ll let them catch me, you sneak in behind, and we can get the lay of the land inside the compound easily.” But easily implied they knew what they were getting into. Easily implied they had a clear idea of the force ratio. Two to twenty? They were SEALs. With their skill set and experience, that ratio seemed manageable. But two to fifty? And how well trained was this particular set of guards?
“Exactly. Take control without bruises. Kessler will never feel like such a fuckup as when he finds out.” Army said it holding Navy’s eyes. We’ve been here before and survived, brother, he was saying. Navy nodded and stood as they shouldered their packs and started for the compound. They hiked down toward the exterior fence, closer toward the gate, then crouched down out of sight to watch the guards prepare for evening shift change.
Hibernia Wind and Energy Farm
Veronica pushed her short-bobbed hair back behind her ear again as she leaned down to look at her microscope’s digital display. On the small screen that relayed the digital representation of the happenings five hundred times smaller than human eyes could detect, bacteria interacted with Rory’s blood on a scale that older, simpler microscopes could not relay. As light technology and digital displays had evolved, the marriage of them allowed microbiologists and nanotechnologists like Veronica to visualize progress at a nearly atom-by-atom level.
So far, they had tried to create in vitro—essentially in their test tubes—an approximation of what would happen in Rory’s bloodstream should she have caught a significant infection. So far today, they had not seen progress. Rory was still certain that she was right, but Veronica was ready to call it a day.
“I want dinner and a glass of wine, and I’ll review the video of everything tomorrow,” she finally said, and confirmed the digital display was not only monitoring but recording.
“Go ahead,” Rory nodded. “Thanks for all the hard work today. I know I demanded a massive experiment to be set up in record time.”
“It’s cool.” Veronica waved a hand. “Eureka moments are truly exciting. In fact, kind of exhausting. Let’s sleep and get ready for another one tomorrow over coffee, eh?” She gave the younger woman a warm wink, but Rory shook her head.
“I’m just not that hungry, thanks. I’ll stay and watch the paint dry a little longer.” She nodded to the screen of her holo-laptop, which mirrored Veronica’s display.
Veronica gave her a last wave goodnight and disappeared, and Rory indulged in a final attempt to connect to Navy. Message not received came back for the fiftieth time that day. She watched the blinking display and sighed.
She wanted to understand what might be happening at TEAR’s command, but her ignorance of its structure and research progress stifled her hope of even imagining. So, as with any problem, it was best to start with what she did know. So what do we know? she thought. First, that TEAR was being led by a man who knew little about science, a lot about war, and aspired to greater power. Second, that TEAR was capable of testing dangerous, half-baked treatments on unwilling human subjects. Third, that their cure, if proven effective, could be in the DNA of a whole lot of people out there whose cells had also become the willing hosts for beneficial viruses that were deadly to bacteria.
And fourth, that the list of those people existed on a database that Rory had developed. Now that she knew how dangerous TEAR was, she wished she had never created it.
The list of things she didn’t know was too long to explore, but Navy’s status of alive, dead, or captured dominated her concerns. She thought of her mother’s story, wondered if this was how her mother had felt when she decided to leave TEAR and fake her own death. Not knowing whether you could protect someone you loved, if they were safe . . . Rory stopped herself going down that path as her eyes swam with unshed tears.
Through the mists in
her vision, living cells teemed on the screen before her, bacterial and human cells mixing together as the bacterial cells frequently multiplied or moved and the human cells sat stuck without the benefit of a heart to push them somewhere useful.
She wiped her eyes as a movement smaller than both cells happened along the boundary of a red blood cell. Blinking away tears, she leaned in close.
At the cell wall of a red blood cell, a tiny stream of little simple structures began to march out. Viruses. They had an upper shape like a top that a child could spin, pointed on both ends: the capsid. From one end of the capsid, a tiny cylinder extended, and from that cylinder, six leg-like projections were attached. The nano-sized army floated in the plasma between her cells, and each time a virus that her cells had birthed encountered a bacterium, it latched on instantly with all six legs. The cylinder would lower to the bacterial cell wall and begin to drill through it, then transfer its genetic code over to the bacterium.
Rory watched, riveted, as the bacteriophage viruses slowly invaded every bacterial cell in the screen view, and then the bacterial cells, within an hour, began one by one to burst open, or lyse, like little water balloons rupturing in slow motion.
“Eureka,” she whispered to an empty room. The next phase of testing could start as early as tomorrow or the next day in the mouse model. For Rory, her theory was already fully proven. No good scientist would accept the results of a single test, but she had just watched it happen live on screen, and she knew in her gut that it would work on a larger scale—they would simply have to develop a gene therapy that imparted to everyone the same genetic advantage that she had. And her database would help.
If TEAR doesn’t get to them first.
She walked directly to the room where the analysts worked and politely asked the one named Kurt to tell her everything they knew about Kessler, the compound, and TEAR.
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