Bioterror! (an Ell Donsaii story #14)

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Bioterror! (an Ell Donsaii story #14) Page 4

by Laurence Dahners


  He’d vaccinated himself with modified cowpox virus. Doing so was dangerous, yes, but he’d decided that working with his highly malignant modified smallpox virus when he had no resistance to it was even more dangerous. The vaccination site had produced a pox scar on his inner thigh as expected.

  He’d even named the two viruses.

  The man from Islam-Akbar entered the room and said, “Are they ready?”

  Adin nodded. “Do you have access to the monkeys and the boats?”

  The man nodded and held out his hand.

  Adin placed two vials, one wrapped in padding, in the man’s palm. Pointing out the one in the padding, he said, “This one I call ‘Vengeance.’ If you break that vial, you and likely millions of others will die. I’d recommend that if you break it, you wash the area where it broke with Clorox, burn down the building, and kill yourself. He pointed to the other one, “This one’s ‘Guardian,’ if you do loose Vengeance upon the world, before you kill yourself, tell anyone who might have been contaminated to vaccinate themselves with Guardian. Reaching in his pocket, Adin pulled out a folded sheet of paper and handed it to the man as well. “Here’re the instructions, in the cipher we agreed upon.”

  The man simply nodded and left. Adin felt frustrated, having expected the man to be cowed by his dire instructions.

  Now Adin must sit and do nothing for the remainder of the hour that his scheduled appointment with the attorney would’ve lasted. He leaned back and began to plan out how he and Islam-Akbar would replicate the viruses in the enormous quantities that’d be required.

  ***

  Dinh had read the instructions that came with the two vials and collected the materials he’d need to mix up the preparations, even out at sea. He shook his head, wondering what the disease was that they were testing a vaccine for and why it was being tested on, of all places, a boat. He shook his head, it didn’t matter. The boat was pulling away from the dock so he drew up the solution to reconstitute the first vial.

  Vaccinating the monkeys was difficult. First, he had to move from the main boat to the monkey boat in a small, outboard-powered inflatable boat that made him nervous. Then the men assigned to handle the monkeys had to catch the animals so he could give them their injections. He was glad that the monkeys were all wearing different colored collars. The monkeys didn’t like the injections and they squealed and fought, bounding around the room they were kept in. If he hadn’t been able to check off the colors on his sheet, he’d never have been able to figure out which ones had already had their injections and which ones still needed them. He felt grateful that he only had to vaccinate the monkeys in one of the rooms.

  Dinh’s next problem arose when it came time to vaccinate the men on the boat. They didn’t screech and run around like the monkeys, but two of them simply refused to have their injections. He didn’t know how to handle this, eventually returning to the main boat. All but one of the sailors on the main boat accepted their vaccinations, though Dinh had a feeling that if they’d believed they could refuse, many of them would have.

  Dinh found Markun out near the bow of the main boat. He’d heard gossip that their leader, fearsome as he’d appeared on land, had spent long hours throwing up after they first put out to sea. Dinh thought Markun still looked somewhat gray, though he wasn’t vomiting, at least not any more. Dinh said, “We have a problem.”

  Markun produced a listless, but unhappy look. “Besides these endless waves?”

  Dinh shrugged, “I have some medication for seasickness if you’d like it?”

  “Now you tell me?!” Markun growled angrily.

  Dinh shrugged again, “I just learned that you were sick.”

  “Yes, I’d like some medicine. What I’d really like is to go back to shore, but you’ve started the injections, right?”

  “Yes, and the instructions plainly state that, once the injections have started, we’re not to go back to shore for at least six weeks.”

  “And the Imam said we must follow the instructions on pain of death, yes, yes. You said there’s another problem?”

  Dinh sighed, “Yes, three of the sailors have refused to be vaccinated. I’ve told them they may become quite sick with whatever this disease is—they say they’ll take the chance. I’ve told them the Imam’s ordered that they take their vaccination—they say the Imam’s not here to enforce his directive.” He shrugged, “I don’t know what to do. Should we have the other men hold them down?”

  Markun shook his head wearily, “I’ll call the Imam. If he wants us to hold them down, that’s what we’ll do.”

  ***

  Dinh worried about his trembling hands as he prepared to mix the solution into the second vial. He’d never had a tremor before, but he’d been thinking about what they were doing out there on the ocean, injecting monkeys with a disease. At first he’d reasoned that perhaps it was a disease that had something to do with seasickness. But with days to think, he’d begun to worry that they were out on the sea in case the disease proved to be more dangerous than expected. If some of the men died, perhaps whoever wrote the instructions wanted it to happen far away.

  The Imam hadn’t insisted that they vaccinate the three sailors who refused. Dinh kept telling himself that that must mean the disease was bad, but not that bad.

  The vaccinations had caused pustules at the injection sites. At first Dinh had thought that he’d failed in his sterile technique and caused some kind of infection at the injection sites, but when every person who had a vaccination got a pustule, he realized it might be an intended result of the injection. He desperately wanted to be able to look up diseases or vaccinations that caused pustules, but they had no medical books on these boats, and no access to the Internet.

  However, the past five days had provided plenty of time for Dinh to worry.

  Dinh managed to reconstitute the powder in the second vial without any incidents and drew up the solution in the row of twenty syringes, one for each monkey. He really wasn’t looking forward to this next part. They’d have to capture the monkeys, wrap them in canvas like a straitjacket, hold their heads back and then he was supposed to inject the solution directly into their tracheas or windpipes. It’d make them cough he knew. He didn’t want to have monkeys coughing this nasty stuff into his face. The instructions had had him bring surgical masks with him and he was not only putting them on himself and the animal handlers, but was going to put them over the monkeys’ faces during the injections.

  He shook his head. The monkeys were going to be hard to catch. They were going to be hard to wrap up in the canvas. It was going to be hard to hold their heads back and they’d fight having a mask put over their face. Despite all the diagrams that’d accompanied the carefully detailed instructions, Dinh wasn’t confident that he’d be able to inject the monkeys’ tracheas correctly. This could be a disaster, he thought.

  ***

  Raleigh, North Carolina—Today the FBI reported the arrest of a Chinese national going by the name of Wang. Mr. Wang is alleged to have been funding an attempted kidnapping of Ell Donsaii to the tune of many millions of dollars. Apparently the kidnapping was unsuccessful, though the FBI did not reveal how they managed to thwart it.

  The Peoples Republic of China has strongly denied that Wang is a Chinese citizen…

  Dinh felt apprehensive as he rode the rubber boat from the main boat over to the monkey boat. It’d been twelve days since he’d injected the monkeys with the material from the second vial. The sailors on the monkey boat had called on the radio this morning because Chung and Kiri, the two monkey boat sailors who’d refused the vaccination were sick. The man on the boat thought that because Dinh was a technician trained in medical procedures, that he’d know what to do. Dinh had tried to give generic advice such as hydration and Tylenol over the radio, but they’d insisted that Dinh come to examine the men. As if I have any idea what to look for if I examine them?!

  The two men were in their cabin beds, complaining that they hurt everywhere. They’d got
ten sick at their stomach and had been throwing up. Dinh stared at them, then abruptly left the cabin, having had no idea what to tell them. “I’m going to see if the monkeys are sick like you are,” he called back over his shoulder as he closed the door.

  The vaccinated monkeys seemed fine, tumbling over one another when he appeared at the door, apparently thinking he was bringing food. When he looked in the door at the unvaccinated monkeys they were sprawled listlessly about the room. A few turned their eyes or heads to look at him through the window in the door, but none of them got up. With a chill, he saw that several platters of their food lay on the floor untouched. He looked at the monkey sprawled on its back near the door. Beneath the thinner fur on the anterior part of its body he saw it had pustules. Hundreds of them… Perhaps a thousand, he thought. They seemed to be everywhere.

  “How long have they had the rash?” Dinh asked the sailor who’d been following him around the boat.

  “Two days, maybe four?” the man said. “I might not’ve seen the rash when it first appeared. Are they supposed to get a rash?”

  “I don’t know,” Dinh said, looking back in the window. He noticed the monkey near the door wasn’t actually looking at him, just a spot near him.

  He realized it wasn’t blinking.

  He looked at its chest.

  A spike of fear shot through his gut.

  It wasn’t breathing either.

  Dinh went back to talk to the two sick men. He opened the door, but couldn’t bring himself to actually enter the room. “Do you have a fever?”

  Chung shrugged listlessly, as if talking were too much effort.

  “Do you feel hot?”

  Kiri and Chung both nodded at that. Kiri rasped, “Do you have medicine for us?”

  “Yes,” Dinh said with sudden inspiration. “I’ll be right back.”

  He went back to the galley and got three cups and a big jug. Speaking to the sailor who’d been following him around the boat, he said, “They need lots of water, salt, and sugar. The man helped him find the salt and sugar, then Dinh told him to add two tablespoons of sugar and a half a teaspoon of salt for each liter of water. The man couldn’t figure out how to translate that for the big jug, so Dinh had to write down that he should put in twelve tablespoons of sugar and three teaspoons of salt each time he refilled the six liter jug.

  Dinh got the Tylenol bottle out of his pocket and held it so his hand covered the label. Acting as if the pills were precious, he carefully counted thirty-two of them into the third cup. “They should take two of these pills four times a day and drink as much of the solution as they can.”

  The sailor nodded enthusiastically, happy to have something constructive to do. He headed back to their room. Dinh felt greatly relieved not to have to go talk to the sick men himself. Instead he went back to the stern and got in the inflatable rubber boat. The two sailors who’d brought him over returned him to the main boat.

  “Markun!” Dinh said shaking the man awake. “We need to go back to shore. The monkeys are dying and the two men on the monkey boat who refused their vaccinations are very sick. We have to get them to the hospital or I think they’ll die like the monkeys!”

  Markun stared at him for a moment, then shrugged, “I’ll call the Imam, but I think he’ll say no.”

  “At least ask him what to do for them! I’ve given them Tylenol, and a sugar and salt solution that I used to make for my children when they were sick. That’s all I know to do.”

  Markun found Dinh at the stern of the boat, wondering how long it’d take them to get back to land. “The Imam says you’re doing exactly the right thing,” he said.

  “What?! I’m doing nothing! We must get them to a hospital!”

  “The Imam says no. We must stay at sea.” Dinh held out a bottle, “Give them this medication. It might help, but the Imam says that they’ll likely give their lives. They’ll be heroes in our fight against the great Satan.”

  Wide-eyed, Dinh stared at Markun as he took the bottle. Dinh was a Muslim and devout, but he wasn’t the kind of radical Muslim who’d put on a suicide vest! He knew all the sailors on both boats were also Muslims, but he thought they were even less devout than he was. This Imam, whoever he is, didn’t give them a choice! He’s not a leader! He’s the kind who sends his people all unknowing to take risks for him! Dinh turned away from Markun without saying a word, resolving that when he got back to land he was going to report this Imam to someone higher in the hierarchy.

  He looked down at the bottle in his hand. It didn’t say what the medication was, but it did have instructions on how often to take it.

  ***

  Dinh felt like he was living a nightmare. Most of the unvaccinated monkeys were dead. None of the sailors would go in the room to check on them anymore, but they could see it through the door. The pills hadn’t seemed to help Chung or Kiri and the two men had developed the rash of pustules the day Dinh had sent over the medication. Now Kiri was dead. Chung looked like he’d be dead soon.

  The sailor on the main boat who’d refused vaccination had developed fevers and been confined to his cabin a couple of days ago. The rest of the sailors, despite the fact that they didn’t feel sick, were in a panic. Dinh thought they were ready to mutiny.

  This morning Markun had realized that the Captain had turned the ship back towards shore overnight. At gunpoint, Markun’d marched the captain to the stern of the boat, leaned him against the gunnel and shot him, letting his body fall over the side into the sea.

  The sailors watched in wide-eyed horror, but when he’d waved his pistol about and asked them who wanted to be next, they’d shrunk away and returned to their tasks. The thoroughly cowed first mate had turned the boat back out to sea.

  The men watched Dinh out of the corners of their eyes and he knew they blamed him. He wanted to tell them that he’d only been following orders, just like they had—but he didn’t think it’d do any good. Dinh hadn’t been sleeping, partly because of the nightmares, and partly because his door wouldn’t lock. They could also kill me while I’m awake, he reminded himself.

  As he wedged his sea bag in front of the door, he thought once again, I’d be easier to kill if I were asleep…

  The next day, the monkey boat radioed over to say that Chung had died. All the monkeys were dead as well. The unvaccinated sailor on the main boat had the rash now…

  Dinh heard a lot of shouting up on the deck and went up to see what was happening. At first he didn’t understand and he looked around uncertainly. He saw one of the men pointing.

  The monkey boat was churning back toward land. Dinh thought it was probably going as fast as it could…

  Dinh moved back closer to the tiny bridge so that he could hear Markun shouting at them over the radio. Apparently they weren’t answering. When Markun stopped shouting, Dinh glanced back through the windows and saw Markun glaring out at the monkey boat as it approached the horizon. Markun glanced at Dinh, then back down as he did something with the radio. He lifted the microphone to his lips again, speaking more quietly.

  He speaking to the Imam, Dinh thought, which will bring no good. Dinh pictured them chasing the monkey boat with the main boat. Assuming they could catch the monkey boat, Dinh had no idea how they’d stop it. He wondered with dread if the Imam might tell them to ram the smaller boat.

  Looking back through the window, Dinh saw Markun had stopped speaking on the radio. Slumped and leaning forward on his arms with his head hanging, he appeared defeated. Moments later Markun exited the little bridge and went out to sit near the bow, staring out after the monkey boat.

  Dinh went back down to his room, but ten minutes later shouts of consternation up on the deck brought him back up the stairs again. The men were agitated and shouting in several different languages. Markun stared sightlessly out toward the monkey boat, so Dinh turned to look as well. A column of smoke rose from where the monkey boat’d been.

  At first Dinh didn’t understand, wondering whether the monkey boat was meetin
g a bigger ship that had a smokestack. Then with a cold chill he heard one of the men saying, “…and it just exploded…”

  Dinh felt the engine speed increase and their own boat started surging through the waves in the direction of the column of smoke.

  By the time the main boat arrived at the site of the explosion, there was nothing left but bits of debris floating on the surface

  ***

  Dinh stumped up the stairs to check on their sick sailor. He’d been giving him hydration fluid and Tylenol as well as the medicine Markun had given him for the men on the other boat, but the man just kept looking worse. His pustules were so close together that they were touching in many areas. Dinh opened the door, saying, “Good morning,” and turning on the light. “I brought you some more…” Dinh’s words, intended to cheer the man, died in his throat.

  The sailor’s eyes stared motionlessly at the ceiling.

  Dinh closed the door and turned to go tell Markun.

  Markun’s response was to say, “Good. We only have to stay out here a few more days. Once we’re sure no one else is getting sick we can go back home.”

  When the explosion came Dinh was out near the bow, staring in the direction of his home. He found himself thrown high into the air. He flailed out to plunge clumsily into the water. By the time he’d flailed his way back to the surface, the boat, nearly broken in half, was engulfed in flames and about to slip beneath the waves. Bombs in the fuel tanks, he thought. They really didn’t want these boats to come back to shore.

  Though he swam poorly, he paddled in the direction of the boat’s wreckage in hopes that some fragment of the boat might come back to the surface. Something he could cling to while hoping for rescue.

  The fragments he found were too small to help.

  He turned himself toward land. Or at least, where he thought it was. I’ll never make it…

 

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