Humans Only: A Jake Dani Novel (Jake Dani/Mike Shapeck Book 2)

by Victory Crayne

  Ron and I carried empty boxes which Alena filled with her personal stuff.

  How did she pick up so much stuff in the short time she’s been on the planet?

  Once we had the van loaded, Alena gave Dr. Albert a hug.

  “Heard anything about my paper?”

  “Some idiot on the review panel thinks it needs more data,” he replied. “I think it’s just a stalling tactic. I’ll see what I can do about springing it free.”

  “Thanks,” she replied, followed by a big grin and a quick kiss on his cheek.

  Yep. She was definitely feeling happy today.

  We prodded along on a twisted path to check for tails and then headed up Franken Boulevard to Shoreline Drive and east to warehouse row on the waterfront. We were the only car on most streets.

  I had never seen Zor this empty.

  “Chima, park in the shade if you can. Then change your color to orange on top and green on the bottom.”

  “Consider it done.”

  That phrase again. Vincent must have added his sense of humor.

  Ron pulled into the address that Gliituk had given us. We dropped off eight of her boxes to human workers. I wondered why there were no mercons there but since they expected us, I figured we had the right place.

  Then Ron drove us to the parking lot next to the Harper Hotel.

  When we entered Room 43 and got into the room behind the rug, Tettar sat reading a tablet. He rose from the chair and greeted us. I noticed he had nose plugs.

  “We’ll take a more direct route.”

  “You have time to just sit and wait for us?” I asked.

  “The warehouse people informed me you had dropped off her boxes. I’ve been here for only ten minutes. Time to catch up a little on my reading.”

  His Amerish was flawless. But I would expect the head of the mercon spy agency to polish his skills for speaking with humans in York.

  After we each got into four small railroad cars with Tettar in the lead car, we went a short distance before stopping. A new portal opened. Since there was little light in the tunnel, I couldn’t tell where it was.

  We had to disembark from our cars and get into new ones on the other side of the portal. Once on board, Tettar pressed a button on his waist and the door to the room closed.

  So he’s coming with us.

  This time, we went around a corner and then straight for a hundred yards before coming to the same exit place where we met four alien guards. I couldn’t tell if they were the same mercons we had met before.

  Dang it. They look alike. I need to develop a more discerning memory soon. Which means I had better pay closer attention to the details of their faces.

  We went to the large room where we had met the ambassador before. Same dark colors, same paintings on the walls, same fireplace, same tall-backed chairs opposite the one with Gliituk.

  I recognized his iridescent orange cape and his gray hair, what little there was on the top of his head.

  Gliituk spoke to Alena. “So, my dear, you’re coming to stay with us.” He pointed to the mercon we came with. “Have you met Tettar? He’s head of our security.”

  Alena and Tettar shook hands. If she had any surprise at having a five fingered hand with two thumbs shake hers, she didn’t show it.

  “We are honored to have such a brilliant researcher,” he said.

  That brought a big grin to her face.

  Tettar extended something in his hand.

  “Here is another comm like the one you have. You can use it to call your housekeeper for anything you should desire. By the way, she speaks Amerish. She will show you your lab space after your possessions arrive. I’m afraid the room is bare. You’ll have to tell us what you need. It may take a few days to get some of it but we will try to accommodate your wishes.”

  Before I departed, I gave my daughter a hug. I whispered in her ear, “Tag me after you get settled in. I’d like to know if you’re satisfied.”

  “Will do,” she whispered back in my ear.

  Tettar stayed behind while Ron and I took the rail to the room on the other side of the rug. This time there were only two railroad cars.

  Ron took a route around Parliament Building and by Gerges while I kept a lookout in the mirror for anyone following us. Chima worked fine but sometimes we need to keep up our skills using the old-fashioned methods.

  #

  At the ops center, I tagged Deek Tanny, my friend and captain of the Zor Metro Police Homicide and Robbery Division. Despite it being a Saturday, I suspected he’d be at work. You can’t keep good cops away from their jobs.

  “I have a suggestion for your investigation of who started the VB attack on Rossa. You might check into who ordered fifty nanometer membrane water filtration systems in the month before the first victim came down with the disease.”

  “Why those systems?”

  “Because anyone who knew there was going to be an outbreak would want to make sure he was protected. Fifty nanometer membrane filters would trap the virus.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Deek, anyone who has access to the Net can find out what filtration would work on water to screen out the virus and make his drinking water safe.”

  Ron had installed a membrane filter over a year before the outbreak of VB. So I was sure his name wouldn’t show up on recent purchases.

  Deek said, “So you’re suggesting that anyone who ordered those membrane filters would know the virus was coming.”

  “Not exactly,” I answered. “Other than hospitals and special laboratories that might need such precautions, you could form a list of suspects. The filters are expensive. I’ll bet HO ordered several membrane filtration systems. Why would that organization need the extra protection?”

  “You think HO is behind it?”

  “I’m suggesting an avenue of investigation, that’s all.”

  “I’ll look into it. Thanks for the idea, Jake.”

  We disconnected.

  #

  I scanned every room in the ops center but couldn’t find Leanna.

  “Where’s your wife?” I asked Vincent.

  “Taking out the trash. And getting some fresh air on a short walk.”

  “I don’t like her going out. Someone might recognize her,” I said.

  “Relax, will ya?” he replied.

  I shook my head. One of the problems of hiring bright people is their tendency to have independent minds.

  I sat at a monitor and drafted my next article for the opinion piece on Channel One under the byline of Albert Poors. This one was to be titled, “Who is up to their old dirty tricks?”

  “I suggested earlier that the virus VB was deliberately brought onto Rossa. Any immigrants with the disease would not only have come down with symptoms, many would have died during the eleven-day voyage from Earth. That was bound to be noticed.

  “But if a package of the virus were frozen and kept separate from the other cargo, it would arrive on Rossa intact. And ready to do its deadly deed.

  “If Craig Horton and RUFF are innocent, then who else has an interest in damaging the images of aliens, hybrids, etc.? What other organization is large enough to back such a devious plan?

  “The Humans Only organization on Earth has been implicated in several terrorist attacks. Even though Coocher claims that HO on Rossa would never resort to terrorism, can we believe him? Especially after he was seen taking a package from a hybrid? By the way, the head of the York Security Agency is a known hybrid.

  “And what was in that package anyway? What business did he have taking anything from anyone, let alone a hybrid? Especially after he expressed hatred of them so many times.

  “If you ask me, I think Coocher has a lot of explaining to do.

  “Albert Poors, ex-slave.”

  I deliberately mentioned that last question to keep the fingers pointing at Coocher.

  I printed my article on paper and sprayed it with chlorine bleach to destroy any DNA and fingerprints. Then I p
laced the paper inside an envelope I sprayed with bleach. After replacing the top papers in our printer with bleach-sprayed ones and letting them dry, I printed the name “Sheila Fish.” Then I put on a pair of rubber gloves, cut her name out, and taped the rectangle on the outside of the envelope.

  Vincent took it in his gloved hands, drove it to the Channel One building, and left it in the overnight drop box.

  Two down, an unknown number to go.

  Four hours later, I read Albert Poors’ latest opinion piece on the Channel One site. I sat back and smiled. My campaign was coming along fine. I was surprised to see it mentioned on Sheila’s six-o’clock news in the “local interest” section of her program.

  Sheila tagged me the next afternoon.

  “The letter from Poors was our most visited webpage, topping even the front page of the sports section and those who just read the comics. This is dynamite!”

  “What pressure has anyone put on you to reveal his identity?”

  “Oh, the Metro, YFP, HO, you name it. But with Morentoss’s assurance, I ignored all of them. That was a good move on your part. Someday, you must explain how you did that.”

  “Maybe.” I couldn’t commit to even setting a date to explain.

  “Say, cowboy, you didn’t have to trade favors, did you?”

  “Come on, Sheila. You don’t reveal your sources, I don’t reveal mine.”

  “I suppose. Say, what are you doing tomorrow night? Care to share dinner?”

  “Busy. Got two new cases this past week and they require a lot of my time. I don’t know when I’ll be free.”

  I certainly wasn’t going to make it easy to commit to dinner with her, even if I had to fabricate a little.

  “You’re a slippery dog, Jake.”

  “Sorry, don’t mean to. It just happens that way.”

  Vincent waved his hand and I said, “Gotta go, Sheila. My guy is on the move.”

  I disconnected as if in a hurry.

  Vincent came over.

  I said, “Good timing.”

  Chapter 34

  After lunch the next day, I secured the exits.

  “Ruta, keep all doors to the ops center locked until I give permission to open them. If I die in the next four days, then allow any BIS team member to open them. Open the front door to medical personnel who wish to enter, but get clear IDs first. Check with the dispatcher.”

  Ruta was the name we had given to our ops center computer. We gave “her” a name because it seemed natural. Most people give their smartest AIs names.

  I strolled through the dorm and to the kitchen. At the dining room table sat Leanna, Vincent, and Ron, chatting.

  “Let’s have a meeting.”

  They got up and followed me into the larger planning room. There lay Zetto on his bed, with Monk sleeping next to his legs.

  I sat in a chair and turned to my full team.

  “The virus is running rampant outside. We'll stay inside here until we can get the vaccine.”

  Monk climbed into my lap.

  Could he sense the tension in the room?

  Leanna was the first to speak. “And what happens if one of us becomes ill before then?”

  I looked at every person, one by one.

  “I repeat, we stay here until the vaccine arrives.”

  The silence was deafening.

  I said, “So far, only fifteen percent of those who come down ill end up dying. I know that sounds high. But it also means eight-five percent will survive.”

  Ron asked, “What happens if no one will bring the vaccine to us?”

  “Let's find the answer right now.”

  I tagged Dr. Newton. Unfortunately, she could not answer, so I left a voice message and used the speaker phone so my team could hear.

  “Dr. Newton, this is Jake Dani. Is it possible that someone from your office could have the VB vaccine available for pickup?”

  After I disconnected, Vincent added, “And who will go pick up the vaccine?”

  “That's a risk I could not ask you to share. I'll go.”

  I turned to Zetto. “I know you're still recovering, but can you fix meals?”

  He nodded. “Leanna can be my backup.”

  “I suppose it goes without saying but I'll say it anyway,” I said. “I want anyone who feels any symptoms to report them to me, immediately.”

  “What are the symptoms?” asked Leanna.

  I turned to my communications expert.

  “Zetto, what have you found?”

  He clicked a few buttons and read from his monitor, “Muscle weakness in the face first. Then in eye movements, chewing, and swallowing. Double vision, drooping of both eyelids. Difficulty talking. Dry mouth and throat. The weakness spreads down to the arms and legs. Some get constipated. Most victims experience difficulty breathing. That is the major cause of death. Fever is not a symptom, nor high blood pressure.”

  “So we just fade away,” said Leanna. “How long is a person sick?”

  Zetto turned to his monitor. We waited. Finally, he looked up.

  “From first symptoms to the worst stage is three days. If they survive on the fourth day, they'll live.”

  I asked, “What about the most contagious time?”

  He read from his monitor, “Third day. When the symptoms are the strongest.”

  I asked, “And what is the incubation period? How long from first getting it to showing symptoms?”

  He replied, “One day, at most.”

  Faces drooped and heads titled down.

  “Listen up, folks,” I said. “That's the worst case. We may never get it.”

  Vincent added, “Okay, now that that's settled, what the hell are we going to do while we wait?”

  We spent the first day watching movies, reading books, or watching a telly. One telly showed on the far wall in the dorm, one displayed on the blank wall in the dining room, and one in the planning room on the fourth wall. None were in the shower or toilet. We all had readers which we could use for movies.

  I noticed Ron preferred action books. The current rave in crime noir he read was Asterid’s Bad Guy. Vincent favored books where the hero was at a disadvantage. He read Cavers’ Last to the Wedding. Zetto preferred comedies. Myself, I preferred spy flicks, especially about a protagonist recruited against his will.

  We didn’t watch the telly much, except to catch up on the news. Prime Minister Pierre Klava declared martial law and enforced a curfew from dark to daylight.

  Klava said, “Only ambulance personnel, nurses, doctors, and federal troops are allowed on the streets after dark. During the day, you need a pass, or carry a body bag of someone who had died and you are headed toward the burial pits or back home. You can have a body bag delivered to your home or you can wrap the body in a bed sheet.

  “Everyone out on the streets must wear a breathing mask or they’ll be arrested.”

  And does that include government people?

  Klava answered my question.

  “Only those whose jobs require a presence, such as police officers, soldiers, and medical staff, are exempt. But all must wear breathing masks. Folks, please stay home and sit this out.”

  On the screen I saw flatbed trucks with wooden sides, all headed in the same direction. In their cargo holds were body bags, some white, some of colored linen. No faces were visible as the linens were tied at one end.

  One newscast showed a truck backing up to a pit and lifting its cargo bed. The view changed to show hundreds of body bags below. Some wrapped in white and most in different colors of bed linen, all tied at one end. Here and there the camera spotted a black body bag. Bulldozers stood by ready to push mountains of dirt into the hole. All the truck drivers, crane operators, and bulldozer operators wore full-body green HazMat suits.

  Views of the streets of Zor showed only a car or two, even during rush hour. A military checkpoint blocked the road at every second light.

  Even the shelves at Walker’s, a major source of groceries for most people, stood ba
re. No workers showed up to restock them. Everyone obeyed the curfew.

  Leanna said, “Jake, I don’t know if this qualifies as a symptom, but I feel depressed.”

  “I understand. Having this over our heads is enough to make anyone depressed. Hang in there.”

  That evening, Dr. Newton tagged me back.

  “Sorry I missed your tag, Jake. We don't have any vaccine yet. It’s supposed to come in small vials that can be inserted into the injectors. I'll let you know when they arrive. How many injections do you need?”

  Modern injectors used compressed air to move the drug under the skin. The person giving the dose would pump the injector between uses to build up air pressure.

  “We are five here. No, make that six with my pet. He weighs only twenty pounds. I'll wait for your call. Once again, thank you, doctor.”

  “How are you feeling?” she asked. “Where are you staying?”

  “I'm in the same place you visited before. We'll stay here in quarantine until I get your tag.”

  We disconnected.

  On the second day, I noticed Leanna's eyes looked sad. She didn't move much.

  “Are you feeling okay, Leanna?” I asked.

  She nodded. And then broke out with a big grin.

  I couldn't help but smile too.

  “Great!” I added.

  Zetto slept more than usual in his hospital bed. Ron, Vincent, and I didn't feel a thing and slept normal hours. Since Vincent snored, I moved his bunk bed into the storage room. That was easier than moving our beds into the planning room.

  The next day, Leanna looked different. Her eyelids drooped and she breathed with difficulty. Ron took over in the kitchen. When Zetto dropped a dish, the clatter turned everyone's head. I stepped in.

  “Zetto, go lay down. Ron and I will fix lunch.”

  He dragged his butt into his bed and soon fell asleep.

  Vincent spent most of his time with his wife, trying to keep her awake. When he walked into the kitchen to get food for both of them, I noticed sweat on his forehead.

  “How is she?”

  “Not good. I think she's got it.”

  “Can I go get some vaccine?” asked Ron.

  I shook my head. “None available.”

  Vincent and Ron looked at each other.