by P. R. Garcia
“They’ll court-martial you for this,” Dr. Q stated.
“Probably not before this possible virus kills me,” the Ensign smiled. “Look, Doc. The way I see it is you are our only hope of stopping this thing. I’ve got two small children back home in Kansas. And another one on the way. If I letting you go saves their lives and the world, I welcome the court-martial.”
“Okay,” Dr. Q smiled. “I just need to get a few things together. Some lab equipment, change of clothes, my toothbrush.”
“No, there’s no time,” the Ensign interrupted. “You have to leave now, this very second. We’ve only got a twenty-minute window before my relief comes. We can drop off any equipment and clothing you need when we deliver the laptop. This is a one-time offer, Dr. Q. You leave now or hope Professor Dilbert stays alive to do what you need.”
“Okay, I’m ready.”
“No, Doc, you can’t go out the front door,” the Ensign stated, stopping the doctor as he went to leave. “You need to go out the garage. Jake’s waiting there with your snowsuit. He’s got the arctic cat all warmed up for you and ready to go.”
“How did you know I’d take you up on your offer?”
“Cause your fiancée is over there. And you love her as much as I love my wife. And Doc?”
“Yeah?”
“The key to the front door is above the door frame in the right corner.”
Dr. Q hurried down the narrow corridor, squeezing past several stacked crates. Within minutes he was in the garage. And just like the Ensign had said, there was Jake. While the doctor slipped on his protective gear and crawled inside, Jake gave him a quick lesson on the cat’s instruments and how to drive it. Wishing him luck, Jake opened the garage doors. The doors creaked and groaned, making both men fear their sound would wake the personnel. Without hesitation, the doctor put the cat in gear and floored the accelerator, making the vehicle speed forward. He was glad that the smaller cat was able to go a little faster than its larger sibling. Before long the Station was out of sight. With no landmarks to guide him, he intently watched the map on the console and the blinking light that signaled where Professors Stevens and Dilbert were. He prayed both would still be alive when he arrived.
A STRANGER AT THE DOOR
Professor Dilbert turned on her left side trying to get comfortable in the chair. Afraid to leave her colleague, she had slept in the chair beside his cot. But it wasn’t a very comfortable chair, and her back was aching. She wanted to go back to sleep and finish the beautiful dream she was having of Lachlan. Surprisingly, even half-awake she could hear his voice calling her name.
“Wakey wakey,” she heard him say. “Eggs and bakey.”
“I don’t smell bakey,” she muttered in her sleep.
“That’s because I couldn’t find any in the kitchen,” his voice said. Then she dreamt he kissed her. The kiss felt so real. She allowed her emotions to swell, hungrily kissing her fiancée until her mind realized someone was actually kissing her. She bolted awake, sitting straight up in her chair and almost knocking the intruder to the floor. Struggling to make her mind focus, she suddenly realized it was Lachlan that she was kissing.
“What are you doing here?” she cried. “You can’t be here. You’ll die.”
“Trying to get rid of me already?” he teased. “Can’t a man come and see his future wife?”
“Not when she’s exposed to a lethal pathogen.”
“Well, we all have our little hang-ups.”
“Seriously, Lachlan. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to discover if that damn thing is a virus or a bacteria,” Dr. Q stated. “And I’m just as likely to die at the Aussie Station as I am here. At least here I’m doing something good. Aren’t you even a little glad to see me?”
She ran to him and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a huge kiss. “You have no idea how happy I am.”
“How’s Alex?”
“Still alive, you fool,” came a weak voice from Professor Stevens. “But don’t expect a kiss from me.”
“That’s not very hospitable,” Dr. Q laughed. He looked at the professors. Both were gaunt and looked exhausted. Dark circles were visible beneath their eyes. Alex’s skin had a grayish tint to it. Thankfully, Gayle’s did not.
“How did you ever get the Admiral's permission to break quarantine?” Alex asked.
“I didn’t,” Lachlan answered. “I went rogue. Alex, we got word that this thing has already begun to spread across the globe. And it’s not affecting just humans. Marine life, birds, mammals and insects are also dying. Every day we wait to classify this bastard, the more creatures are going to die.”
Professor Stephens tried in vain to sit up. Dr. Q motioned for him to remain lying down. “Diseases may cross one, even two species, but I’ve never heard of one that can cross them all. Are plants being affected too?”
“Not that I’ve heard.”
“Thank God for that. What can I do to help?”
“Right now, rest. Gayle can take me to where the students’ bodies are so I can get my specimens. I’m going to need some blood from the two of you to compare with those that have died.”
“Not sure how much I have left, but you’re welcome to all I have,” Professor Stevens said as he drifted back to sleep. Professor Dilbert lifted the blanket back over his shoulders and tucked him in.
“Sweetheart, look at me,” Dr. Q said as he looked intently at his future wife. He turned her head to one side, then the other, inspecting each ear. He then looked at her nostrils and eyes. “No signs of bleeding yet.”
“Not yet. The bodies are in the back of the Station in the cold storage room. It’s this way.” Without another word, Lachlan followed her down the hallway, stopping briefly in the lab to get a scalpel, vials, specimen bags, surgical gloves and two masks. Upon reaching the door, the doctor reached out and prevented the professor from turning the doorknob. He did not want her to go inside and experience her loss again. He asked if she would be kind enough to go make some fresh coffee and possible something for all of them to eat. She gladly agreed, having no desire to enter that room.
Once he was sure she was gone, he put on the mask and gloves, then slowly opened the door and stepped inside. Lying on the floor were the six students. Three of the students had been carefully laid to the side, blankets reverently draped over the bodies. Another one laid a few feet away, not quite as straight as the others. The last two were lying in disarray, their bodies twisted as if thrown there in haste. Their blankets laid under them. Dr. Q knew that those farthest from the door were the first three to die. There had been enough people still alive at the time of their deaths to carry them to the room, and carefully place their bodies on the floor. The one by itself was the fourth student to die. With only four left to carry the body, its placement was not as careful. The last two bodies Gayle had probably dragged herself on their blankets, allowing them to fall in place just inside the door. He wondered how she even found the strength to do it.
Since the last two bodies had no covering over them, he looked in horror at their gray, sunken skin. Dried blood covered their lips and nostrils. Trails of dried blood flowed from their ears and eyes, flowing down their cheeks and neck. What a horrible way to die. He removed a syringe from his bag and injected the student to draw blood. As he feared, there was none left in the body to fill the syringe. He got the same result with the second student. Using a tongue depressor, he scraped off some of the dried blood into a vial. Next, he cut off a piece of flesh from the arm and placed it in a specimen bag. He noted the lack of blood at the extraction site. After marking the bag and vial “Student #6”, he repeated the procedure on the other five.
When he had finished with the samples, he walked over to student #1, took a deep breath and pulled open her shirt. Trying to keep his hand from shaking, he carefully pushed the scalpel through her chest and made an incision in her rib cage. As with students #5 and #6, no blood emerged. Placing his fingers inside the incision, he separ
ated the skin to reveal the insides. He stared into the exposed chest cavity. The sight inside was not an unfamiliar one. It looked as if a bomb had gone off. The organs and muscles had liquefied, just as he had seen with Ebola. Could the culprit of this terrible nightmare be the precursor to the Ebola virus, but a more pure strain? If that was true, heaven help them all. But he had no time for speculation. He needed to obtain the samples and get to the lab and start examining them. Curious if the effects of the pathogen changed with time, he also opened up the last student to die. The results were the same. Apparently, time had not slowed down the ferocity of the disease.
____________
“Lieutenant, would you contact Dr. Quartermaine?” the Admiral asked as he looked at his latest report. Cases of the disease were now confirmed in London, Paris, Istanbul and Peking. New York City and the surrounding areas were under quarantine and Marshall Law. Leaders around the world were retreating to underground bunkers in hopes of avoiding the disease while still running their countries.
“Sir, Ensign Smith reports that they cannot find Dr. Quartermaine,” the Lieutenant told his superior.
“What do you mean they can’t find him?” screamed the Admiral. “Where is he?”
“Ensign Smith reports that he may have gone to the Polar Station. A snowsuit and a small arctic cat are missing.”
“I thought he had a guard posted on him so this didn’t happen,” bellowed the Admiral.
“He did, but he apparently gave him the slip.”
“Can we reach the Polar Station from here?” the Admiral asked.
“No, Sir. Not from the ship. Communications are only possible from the Aussie Station.”
“Then get me a chopper,” the Commander shouted.
____________
Dr. Q looked into the microscope. As with the previous five slides, this one too showed the same culprit. There was no longer any doubt; the pathogen was a virus. And worse still was the fact his assumption appeared correct: this virus was the original strain of the current-day Ebola virus before it had millennia to mutate. Sighing, he sat back in his chair only to quickly sit back up when he heard the Admiral’s voice bellowing over the intercom.
“Dr. Quartermaine, what in the hell do you think you are doing? I know you’re there. I want you on this radio immediately. Do you hear me?” There was a pause. Dr. Q debated if he should go speak with the angry commander or not. Then after a minute, a more subdued officer was on the line. “Quartermaine, there have been more outbreaks. I need to talk to you. Please.”
Dr. Q rose from his chair and walked the few steps to the radio. He flipped the switch and announced, “I’m here, Admiral.”
“Dr. Quartermaine, what are you doing in that place?” a re-irritated officer asked. “You know that once you entered that building, you became quarantined like the rest of them.”
“The rest of them?” Dr. Q asked, exhaustion clearly audible in his voice. “Only Professors Stevens and Dilbert are still alive.”
“Yes, I am sorry about that.”
“Besides, Admiral, I can’t do anything sitting over with the Australians. I’ve already discovered it’s the worst case imaginable – a virus. Which means there is no antibiotic to combat this thing.”
“So, it is as you feared,” a now compassionate Admiral stated. “What do you need from us?”
“I need that damn laptop so I can communicate with Dr. Silvas, the CDC and others around the world.”
“I brought it with me. What else?”
“This thing appears to be a form of early Ebola, so I need whatever is current in treating that disease.”
“Do you think that will work?”
“Probably not, but we won’t know for sure until we try. I can treat both professors and myself and see how we do. I also need some food and lots of water. A decent centrifuge, a DNA sequencer and a hematocrit photo reader. And a direct line to Dr. Silvas in Australia.”
“I am sorry to inform you that Dr. Silvas succumbed to the disease this morning. We received a notification just before I left.”
“Damn,” was all Dr. Q said. He knew what a loss this was. Dr. Silvas was an expert in fighting fatal diseases and would have taken every precaution not to contract the virus. If she, with all her knowledge, could not beat this thing, what chance did the rest of them have?
“What other pathologist can we get you?” the Admiral suggested.
Dr. Q thought for a moment. His mind was too tired, too preoccupied with what he had seen in the microscope to think clearly. “Contact the CDC and see who the best is now that Dr. Silvas is gone. Preferably someone with veterinarian experience.”
“Veterinarian experience?”
“We need to find out how this thing is crossing species lines, why nothing except plants is immune.”
“Anything else?”
“Just a lot of prayers. Now you said you had more outbreaks?”
____________
Professor Dilbert heard the caterpillar’s engine as some of their supplies and the much-awaited laptop arrived. She waited until the vehicle left before venturing out to the caterpillar to retrieve their goods. When she opened the front door, she was quite surprised to see a young man standing there, the laptop firmly in his grip.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said.
“Neither are you,” the young man smiled. “My name is Maximillian Vladimir Stans. You can call me Max. I’m here to help.”
“You can’t stay here,” Professor Dilbert stated.
“Afraid my ride has already left,” Max replied, his smile still broadly stretched across his face. “So, unless you want me to freeze to death, you’ll have to let me inside.”
“You might find that a better end than what awaits you in here,” Professor Dilbert said.
“If you can hold the laptop, I’ll drag the boxes of supplies in,” Max stated. “The rest of what Dr. Q needs will arrive either tomorrow or with the second shipment in two days. The Admiral had to requisition some of the medical supplies from Arlington. It will take a day to fly them down here.”
“Hun, was that the cat with our laptop that I heard?” Dr. Q asked as he came around the corner. He stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing a young male dragging in a crate of supplies. “Who in the hell are you? And what are you doing here?”
“Maximillian Vladimir Stans at your service, Dr. Q,” the man said. He walked back to the cat and carried another crate inside, then closed the door. He stretched his hand out to shake the doctor’s.
“He said he’s here to help us,” Professor Dilbert stated.
“That still doesn’t answer my question of why he’s here.”
“I’m like you, Dr. Quartermaine. A genius who is here to hopefully save the world. I worked under Dr. Silvas in Kenya combating the last outbreak of Ebola. She thought I might be able to help you. I had just arrived on the U.S.S. Barack Obama when the Admiral received word of Dr. Silvas’ death. I talked him into letting me tag along to the Aussie Station. Once I learned that you had broken quarantine and was here, I figured I’d be a hero too. After all, this virus hasn’t managed to kill me yet. I had a case of it a few years back and survived. Hopefully, I’ll survive this one too. Either way, you can’t do this on your own.”
“And the Admiral let you come?” Professor Dilbert asked, surprised the Admiral would allow the stranger to break quarantine.
“He didn’t have much of a choice,” Max replied. “I had clearance from both the CDC and WHO to aid in the investigation. He had to abide by their order. Plus, after Dr. Silvas’ death, I think he was afraid of what was coming and knew we all needed as much help as possible.”
“In that case, welcome aboard, Mr. Stans,” Dr. Q greeted.
“Max. Call me Max.”
“Tell me, Max, why did you say you might be immune to this one too?”
“From everything I’ve heard, every report I’ve read, this disease is acting just like the Ebola outbreak did,” Max replied. “Dr. Silvas
thought so too. Except for the species crossing. We couldn’t figure that one out. Not yet, that is. Thanks to Dr. Silvas, I was able to obtain flesh samples from the great whites that died in Australia. She also got me samples from the turtles in South Africa, the birds in India, the fish in Argentina and St. Helena Island, plus rats in New York City, London and Valparaiso, Chili.”
A shocked and startled look crossed the doctor’s face. “I’ve only heard of the shark incident off Australia’s coast and the case in New York City. When did these other events occur?”
“The animals washed up on shorelines within forty-eight hours of the great white incident,” Max answered. “As the infected food source moved upwards, the contamination area grew. Like New York, it is believed the rat infections in London resulted from someone or something being infected in Australia. Several planes flew out before the quarantine was established. As for Valparaiso, a fishing fleet returned with tainted fish. When the docks were deserted due to the sick, it left the contaminated fish available to all kinds of scavengers.”
“Only the rats got ill?”
“I wish I could say yes, but all were affected. Since rats often eat decaying meat, Dr. Silvas thought it best to concentrate on them.”
“I was sorry to hear about her loss,” Dr. Q said, sadness in his voice. “She was a great lady.”
“That she was. She always spoke highly of you.”
“So, except for the two cases in New York City and London, the disease has not crossed the equator. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Dr. Q. But I estimate it will cross within thirty-six hours.”
“That soon?”
“Yes, Sir. Even though most marine life won't cross the equator, many land animals do. And they’ll spread the disease even faster than marine life. I brought all my reports so we can compare our findings. They wouldn’t let me transport any of the actual samples of flesh and blood, but I did manage to smuggle in some specimen slides.”
