The White Death

by Rafferty, Daniel

  “Thank you,” he said. The general was on his way to discuss Section 51, with the absence of Freda. Christopher felt totally useless now and hated it. Everyone knew what they were doing, and he had nothing to do. How many pep talks could he really keep giving?

  “CIM, date?”

  “Saturday, 7.52 A.M., December 2039.”

  “Locate Freda.” He was glad CIM wasn’t programmed to disobey an instruction. This must have been the hundredth time he’d asked. CIM returned the usual message, and he let out a deep sigh. Sitting down behind her desk, in her chair, he couldn’t remember a time when he felt more uncomfortable, many around the world sharing that feeling now. In a week, the human race had discovered they weren’t alone in the universe and were now facing extinction.

  “General Richards is here to see you,” said Sarah.

  “Send him in,” he replied, standing up to shake the general’s hand.

  “I’m sorry about Freda,” began Richards. “Any ideas?”

  “I wish,” he replied, sadly.

  It was the first time they had seen each other since she vanished.

  Richards looked as neat and well dressed as always, but his tired old eyes struck Christopher. They told a different story. “She didn’t mention anything,” he said. “The Council probably had her removed, quickly and quietly.”

  “And to think, this is the organization we are dealing with,” said Richards. There were a few moments of silence as the general sat down and unbuttoned his long black overcoat.

  “How’s the bombing going?” asked Christopher.

  “We’ve started, but it’s a long process,” said the general. “Every square inch of the planet has to be targeted. That, and plane redeployments, faults, delays, logistics, sarin … the biggest hindrance has been losing the transporter ability from Section 51. We’re having to transport all the sarin by conventional methods.”

  “But we have started?”

  “Yes,” said Richards. “Around the world, American and British bombers are exterminating infected populations, but it will take years.”

  “We’ll never be safe as long as one living thing is infected with this virus,” said Christopher.

  “Which is why we need that vaccine.”

  “Everyone here is working as fast as we can, Ernie. It’s been a godsend that Ursula survived.”

  “It’s a simple miracle the infection isn’t on the American continents yet, but it will happen sooner or later. I’m more worried about the government at the moment than the virus, if I’m being honest,” said Richards.

  “Why?” said Christopher. He watched Ernie get up to stretch.

  “I can do more to combat this virus. Stopping civil war is more complicated,” he replied. “The government is at breaking point. Every town and city in the country is under siege from our own citizens. We don’t have the manpower to keep order on that kind of scale.”

  “It’s like my grandmother told me. When things are going well, people like to consider themselves respectable, intelligent, and morally grounded. Once you add a dash of fear, a reason to hate, and threaten an expected way of life, people will search for someone to blame. When they find that someone, they’ll attack.”

  “Your grandmother sounds like a wise woman,” said Richards. “What about the vaccine?”

  “I’ve been told not to ask anymore,” said Christopher. Both Peter and Ursula had warned him against asking for updates every fifteen minutes. “When they know something, we’ll know something.”

  “I always think it’s best to leave scientists to it. Has there been any word from the Council?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It worries me. Sterilization is meant to happen on Monday, and with Freda gone, I think we can assume it’s going to happen.”

  “If there’s any of us left.”

  “Do you want to know the very best-case scenario that can happen, but won’t?” said Richards. “I’ll tell you. We keep both North and South America free from infection, develop a vaccine, and eradicate the population of every other country in the world. We create a barren planet.”

  “Yes…” said Christopher.

  “And maybe we could get past the economics, the logistics—how to produce energy, how to grow food—but the people… You’re gonna have over two-thirds of the world uninhabited. We can’t rebuild the world the way we did Japan after the Second World War. So you have a vast planet open for the taking. America does not have the ability to police the planet in the way that we’d have to.”

  “No rebuilding? Repopulating?” asked Christopher, surprised.

  “No,” said Richards. “Europe, Asia, the Middle East—they’ll all have to remain abandoned. That’s when it will happen.”

  Christopher didn’t respond immediately.

  “Militants,” Richards growled. “All that glistening military hardware across the globe, in every country, up for the taking. The gold, money, supplies, weapons, ships, aircraft, missiles—everything. Hell, it’s all out there, Christopher. All waiting to be taken. With our society fractured, it’ll only get worse.”

  Richards breathed heavy, and Christopher watched him clench his fists.

  “Empire building, you mean.”

  “Basically, and it could be disastrous. And on that note…” he said, getting up from his chair.

  “I actually have a favor to ask.”

  “Which is?”

  Christopher knew by his tone that Richards already had an inclination for what it would be.

  “Barrington.”

  “No.”

  “But General…”

  “The president made it very clear, Christopher. There would be no rescue mission. She went of her own accord.”

  “With his support,” said Christopher.

  “With his permission, not his support,” said Richards. “There is a difference.”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “I’m not over-exaggerating when I say every troop, tank, helicopter, and naval vessel is being used. I don’t want to lose another helicopter or special ops team. We have few enough of them as it is. The answer is no.”

  “General, she came here at our request and is still, even now, working to help us.”

  “Do you realize how impossible it would be to rescue her?” asked Richards. “My last report from Section 51 showed the area is now swarming with infected, hundreds of thousands of them. How could we cut through that?”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” came one of the secretaries over the intercom system. Before the secretary could finish her message, Peter barged into Freda’s office.

  “Where is Ambassador Kilroy?”

  “Pardon?” asked Christopher. The name rang a bell with him.

  “General,” said Peter, “where is Ambassador Kilroy? Our Ambassador to China. The president authorized his rescue to Japan, but he’s not there anymore.”

  “I don’t know,” admitted the general, vaguely recalling the name. “We had to abandon most of our ambassadors.”

  “He was rescued from China, along with Captain Rodgers. What happened to him afterwards?”

  The general and Christopher went into thought.

  “You don’t know, do you?” said Peter in shock.

  “I … I totally forgot about him,” said Richards. “I knew he was brought to Japan. I assumed he was still there.”

  “He’s not.” Peter checked a new message on his phone: Barrington telling him Rodgers was most likely a carrier. “Look, we’ve checked, and CIM has, as well. The Japanese flight records are a mess, and they haven’t been keeping a log of private American government planes. He was fully isolated when leaving China, wasn’t he?”

  “Of course,” said Richards.

  “Well, where is he then!?
” shouted Peter, losing his cool. “We could be sitting on a landmine.”

  “I don’t know,” shouted back Richards.

  “Then fucking find out. If he’s back in America, then we have a serious problem.”

  Richards flipped out his cell and began making calls. Christopher sat down, feeling lightheaded.

  “I thought this virus affected people instantly,” snapped Richards. “How the hell could this happen? I was told finding one carrier was next to impossible. Now you’re telling me there might be three!”

  Richards smoldered, and Christopher knew he was near breaking point.

  “Improbable but not impossible,” said Peter. “If they are carriers, these three might hold the key to saving our race. The important thing is we find the ambassador. These carriers are infectious.”

  “But once it enters another human host…” said Christopher, catching on.

  “It mutates almost immediately,” said Peter. “If a carrier infects a human, then that human will quickly succumb to infection and spread it. Each time the virus is spread, it gains speed. There’s no stopping it.”

  “What makes Rodgers and the ambassador so different? Why are they carriers?” asked Richards, confused. “I need more information than this for the president.”

  “We don’t know yet,” said Peter. “Japan is analyzing Rodgers’s blood now and getting the data over to us. The ambassador must be found and quarantined immediately.”

  “Surely we’d have heard by now if he was in a populated area,” said Christopher. “I mean, that was days ago.”

  “Please, just find him,” said Peter.

  “Incoming transmission,” said CIM.

  “My God,” said Christopher. “It’s the Council.”

  “Answer it,” ordered Richards, still on the phone. Loretta quickly appeared on screen and introduced herself.

  “A message will be displayed on your screen. Read it carefully.” Loretta cut the video feed as quickly as it started. The computer screen went blank before a message began appearing.

  “Well?” asked Richards.

  “It hasn’t fully loaded yet,” said Christopher. He was trying not to read every word that appeared but couldn’t resist.

  “The Council continues to direct resources to a vaccine program. Once this has been finalized, we will commence with planet-wide inoculation. A quarantine protocol has been enacted around the planet Earth, and emergency warning beacons have been placed around the edge of your solar system. Further information will follow.”

  Christopher finished reading it out loud, not wanting to believe it.

  “What the hell does that mean?” said Peter.

  “It means we’re on our own,” said Richards.

  Chapter 49

  “Mr. President, we have a situation,” said Defense Secretary Jacqui Kilmoran.

  “That phrase has lost all gravitas with me now. Go ahead,” said Thomas. He’d just finished a meeting with the Secret Service, who wanted to relocate him to an aircraft carrier group in the Atlantic Ocean. It had been a heated discussion, with Thomas downright refusing to leave the capital. That would send the worst message possible to the American public. He took his glasses off, badly wanting to lift his feet up onto the desk. His country was crumbling around him, and as each minute went by, he could feel the pressure build inside him.

  “New York, Mr. President. Sixty-five percent of their power grid has been disabled. We suspect riot damage. We need to send the Army in. The NYPD has lost all control.” She flicked on a news channel, which had a helicopter in the air showing rioting across New York in numbers no police force could handle. Buildings burned, and families fled for safety. The cameraman zoomed in on an elderly couple being pulled out from their car and thrown to the ground so others could speed away from the frenzy.

  “Mob rule,” agreed Thomas. “The mayor?”

  “We can’t get through to anyone in authority. Not the mayor. Not the NYPD commissioner. No one, Mr. President.”

  “Then we have no choice,” said Thomas. “Send the Army in. I want New York back under control immediately. We don’t need this spreading to other cities. Gail.” He shouted for her to come in.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Send a message to all state governors advising them the Army stands by to take control of any city or state that looks like it is falling under mob rule. If any of them protest this, tell them I’ll issue so many executive orders there’ll be enough to shove down their throats, as well.”

  “Yes, Mr. President.” She rushed out the door.

  “Also, get me General Richards.”

  “Right away.”

  If he lost control of New York, America’s iconic city, then every remaining country would doubt America’s ability and resolve to lead. He didn’t want the Army walking through American cities any more than the next person, but the alternative was not acceptable.

  “General, New York is falling to pieces. I’ve authorized a full military intervention. I want back control of that city.”

  “No, Mr. President,” shouted Richards, on a helicopter. “I was just about to contact you. Sir, we may have an infection outbreak in New York. Sending the Army in will only cause more problems.”

  “What? How?”

  “Ambassador Kilroy, sir. It seems he made it back to his office and then…” He took a breath, anxious to find the appropriate way to explain the preposterous series of events that had taken place. “It appears he jumped from his office window on the thirty-third floor. He didn’t survive the fall, but if he was infected, then he would have acted … well, like a kind of bomb, sir.”

  Thomas froze. The general was still talking, but he wasn’t listening anymore. Those around him in the Oval Office continued to work and chatter, but he didn’t hear them. They had strived, and he had prayed, to keep the virus away from their shores. The Air Force and Navy were working around the clock to ensure no unauthorized person entered the landmass. They had abandoned millions to protect their own country. Now, all of that was in vain.

  “Gail,” he shouted, but it was only a whisper. He cleared his throat and shouted for her again. “General, what do we do?”

  “We need to move to contain New York. I’m on a helicopter now to the suspected point of infection. I’ll contact you in about fifteen minutes.” Richards was talking loudly and slowly.

  “What’s it look like?”

  “A war zone,” said Richards. The line cut out.

  “What?” shouted Gail, running in.

  “New York might be infected. Call Jacqui back.”

  “Oh Jesus Christ!” She ran off again.

  “General. Find out for me right away. I’ll coordinate from the Situation Room. And General, be careful.”

  “Understood, Mr. President.” Richards ended the call as he felt the helicopter beginning a slight descent.

  “Is it?” said Gail, coming back in.

  “We don’t know yet,” said Thomas. “But my gut tells me yes.”

  Chapter 50

  Barrington maintained a laser-sharp focus on her work. Time was running out, and with each check of her watch, she knew infection of the remaining populations came closer. The woman in white had not visibly changed, although her body was engaged in an all-out war with the virus. In Ursula’s mind, she could envision the battle taking place. Millions of white blood cells, along with other more specialist cells, would be fighting it out with the deadly Eugenics Virus. Neither side was winning, but the body itself was being ravaged as a result of the battle. Her body was the battlefield.

  Across the room, Nelson was pacing, terrified by the most recent news from home. A team had been sent into New York City to try to recover Ambassador Kilroy’s body, but if they couldn’t find him, or if the virus had already spread …
it would be too late.

  “What if they can’t find the ambassador?” asked Nelson, across the room.

  “That’s something I can’t afford to think about,” said Barrington.

  “But if he is back on American soil and is a carrier?”

  “Then the American government will have to deal with that.” She understood Nelson was concerned—so was she—but there was nothing they could do at this end. Even Peter had returned to his desk, recognizing the need to get a vaccine as quickly as possible.

  “I wish I had your mental fortitude,” said Nelson.

  “Don’t we all?” said Peter, across the screen.

  “How many more?” she asked, referring to the viral diagrams.

  “Eight more,” said Nelson.

  “Good. Peter, how is CIM processing the data?”

  “Slowly, but we’ll get there. Once I have all of them, I’ll divert processing power to the search over here. Progress at your end?”

  Ursula tutted, scoring out another formula on her pad.

  “Slowly,” she said. “My mind is spinning with formulas and possibilities.” The sheer number of equations she had written out across four computer screens would frazzle the mind of most scientists. For her, though, this was where she excelled. When under the greatest pressure, she always believed, the mind could also be at its greatest.

  “All done,” said Nelson, with clear joy in his statement.

  “I wish that remark was mine,” she replied. “Peter, get cracking on that.”

  “Already on it, boss.” he said.

  “Tell CIM I expect her total commitment as well.”

  “Understood,” said Peter, rushing off screen.

  “Look at that—her eyes follow my flashlight,” said Nelson.

  “Mm-hmm,” she replied, uninterested. Why he was still so fascinated with her she wouldn’t know.

  “It shows there’s someone in there.”

  “I just got an updated report on New York,” said Peter, coming back on screen.