All Fall Down

by Louise Voss

  Harley nodded.

  ‘So … I think this is the answer. For the last year or

  so, when Isaac and I were studying Watoto, we kept

  seeing a trace of something on the edges of Watoto’s outer

  shell.’

  She looked up and saw that Harley was confused. ‘Viruses have an outer shell, a kind of coat, made of protein. In our paper, Isaac and I reported that we kept seeing a “ghost” – a trace of something on the outer edges of the shell that would appear fleetingly then disappear. We could never work out what it was.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Junko worked it out first. She was talking to me about “the ghost”, which Isaac and I thought must be some kind of contamination, right before Angelica and her cronies turned up at the lab. She never got the chance to tell me more …’ She trailed off for a moment. Junko’s body was out there somewhere. Had they buried her or just dumped her remains with their other victims? Picturing another kind of ghost, wandering the grounds, unable to rest, Kate shivered.

  ‘Go on,’ Harley urged.

  She pointed to the relevant part of the picture. ‘But, as Diaz said to you, what we were actually seeing on the edge of the Watoto virus was a satellite virus.’ She knew Harley wouldn’t understand. ‘Think of Watoto as being like planet Earth. And attached to it, like our moon, is a tiny satellite.’

  ‘OK …’

  ‘The satellite exists on both Watoto and Watoto-X2. It’s always been there. The difference is that, with X2, there is something inside the satellite – and that’s what kills victims of Watoto-X2 so quickly.’

  Harley squinted at her. ‘What, like another virus? You mean, there are two viruses?’

  ‘No – not really. I think the satellite actually contains something else. A toxin. A poison. When Watoto-X2 – which is basically the original Watoto with the additional poison attached to it – enters the victim’s body, it releases this poison into the bloodstream. And this poison kills the sufferer before the Watoto virus itself gets a chance. That’s why people die so suddenly and the fatality rate is so high. The antibodies that might have some chance of fighting off Watoto never get a chance to do their job because the poison sneaks in round the back, as it were, and kills the victim first. That’s what caused the seizures. And – oh yes! That’s why Mangold told Simone they were giving her an antidote. Because you need an antidote to fight a poison.’

  ‘OK – that makes sense. But what is the poison?’

  Kate stood upright, her aching back forgotten. ‘You know that when I was a child I lived in Tanzania for a while and caught Watoto?’

  ‘Yes. Of course.’

  ‘And Diaz told you that he and Mangold were working on something they called Project Hadza?’

  ‘Ye-es.’

  She smiled. ‘Well, Hadza is the name of a tribe in Tanzania. They were the people my family were living with. It’s been so long since I heard that word – and I was a child back then – that I didn’t remember immediately. But then it came to me.’ She could picture the people now; she had an image of a young boy with a bow strung across his back. A hunter.

  She went on. ‘And that made me make the other connection. Those plants out back, with the pretty flowers – I knew I recognised them. They used to grow all around the village where we stayed. The Hadza had a name for the plant that I can’t remember, but my mum called it a mamba rose.’

  So strange, she thought, how life went in circles. So strange to be, in her mind, back in Africa, the hazy memories of heat and light through dappled leaves and the sickness that had claimed her parents: memories she had repressed for a long time because they were so unbearably painful. The first of so many losses: Mum, Dad, then Stephen, Isaac, Junko – and now, unless a miracle occurred, Paul too. She swallowed hard.

  ‘The Hadza would use the sap from the plants to poison their arrowtips. I remember them warning us that the plants weren’t safe, that we should be careful of them. And Mangold told me that he and Diaz had been to Tanzania. He said they were looking for something. Obviously, from the name they gave their project, it had something to do with the Hadza.’

  ‘Couldn’t they have been collecting samples of Watoto?’

  ‘Maybe. But they did something to Watoto to make it even more deadly. And we know from what Diaz said that it must be something to do with the satellite virus. I’m willing to bet that they added the poison from the mamba rose, creating a version of Watoto that carries a satellite genome containing the toxic gene from the plant.’

  Harley looked confused again.

  ‘You don’t need to understand the science. All you need to know is that the thing that makes Watoto-X2 so deadly is the poison it carries around with it, which comes from that plant growing out back.’

  She gestured for him to follow her out of the lab, and he stripped off his protective suit, leaving it in a crumpled heap on the floor.

  ‘So what happens now?’ he asked. ‘How does this actually help us find an antidote?’

  ‘Well, the first thing we need to find out is whether there is an existing, known antidote to the mamba rose toxin. We should be able to look it up online, unless the internet is down here too.’

  Harley thought for a moment. ‘What resources do you need? Ideally? I’ll get them for you.’

  ‘The first thing I need is to talk to a toxicology expert.’

  ‘OK.’ Harley reached for his phone.

  Kate looked into the room where Paul was still asleep. He was shiny with sweat, his skin as pale as an albino’s.

  ‘You’re trembling,’ Harley said softly.

  ‘I’m really scared, Jason. Because even if we find an antidote to the toxin and get it here straight away, that won’t stop the Watoto virus itself. All it will do is buy Paul time by stopping the poison. It will give him an extra couple of days, but Watoto itself still has a mortality rate of around seventy per cent.’

  ‘So by finding the antidote we would be reducing his chances of dying from ninety-nine per cent with Watoto-X2, to seventy per cent with plain, unadulterated Watoto? That’s still pretty good, Kate.’

  She stared at Paul, chewing her thumbnail nervously. ‘Not good enough though.’

  While Harley got to work, making one call after another, Kate crouched beside Paul, stroking his brow, murmuring soothing words he couldn’t hear.

  Harley came over and held out the phone to Kate. ‘I’ve got Professor Simon Black at the Center of Toxicology in Dallas. There’s one in San Francisco but, not surprisingly, it’s shut.’

  Kate took the phone and found herself talking to a man with a gravelly Texan accent. She explained about the mamba rose, what she needed, could hear him tapping away at a computer.

  ‘Well, now,’ he said. ‘This is real interesting.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Kate urged.

  ‘The mamba rose is an extremely toxic plant. Hunters in Africa use it to dip their arrow tips in.’

  ‘Yes, I knew that. But what about an antidote to the poison?’

  He paused. ‘Jeez. That sure is interesting.’

  This was maddening. ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s quite a remarkable plant. The antidote to the

  poison, which is in the sap, is actually contained in the same plant – within the stem. Do you have access to this plant now?’

  ‘Yes. There are thousands of them growing here.’

  ‘OK. Well, I can talk you through how to prepare and administer the antidote. Though I need to make a phone call first, to check a couple of things. Is that all right?’

  Kate felt on the verge of tears. ‘Yes, yes. But please, be as quick as you can.’

  She handed the phone back to Harley and walked straight through to see Paul. As she entered the room, he stirred, then opened his eyes.

  She knelt beside him. ‘How are you feeling?’

  His voice was hoarse and weak. ‘Like death.’ He attempted a smile. ‘It’s definitely not man flu.’

  ‘I’ve got some good n
ews. We’ve found an antidote … It’s complicated, but I’m just waiting for a call back.’

  This time, he managed a proper smile. ‘That’s amazing. I knew you’d do it. You’re brilliant, Kate.’

  She tried to smile back. How could she tell him that, while they had identified an antidote to the poison that Watoto-X2 carried, there was still no cure for the virus itself?

  ‘Listen, Paul,’ she said, ‘when we get through this … You know what you asked me before, back in England, about marrying you? The answer is yes. I want to.’

  ‘You don’t have to say that, just because I’m sick.’

  ‘No. I made up my mind while we were apart. I was being stupid before. I want to do it. I want to be with you for ever.’

  He squeezed her hand. ‘You’d better get me that antidote then. Hey, don’t cry.’

  She couldn’t help it. She held on to him as the tears came, pressing her face against his burning hot shoulder. Paul held her back, not speaking. In the distance, she thought she could hear a phone ringing. But she didn’t want to let Paul go. He had to survive. He had to. She needed him. And the sick irony was, she had only fully realised that when she was on the brink of losing him.

  From behind her, she heard Harley say, ‘Er, Kate? It’s Professor Black.’

  She extricated herself from Paul – the front of her shirt was damp from his sweat and her tears – and crossed the room to take the phone from Harley, taking it into the entrance hall so Paul wouldn’t overhear.

  ‘Professor Black.’

  ‘Doctor Maddox. I made my calls, and I can tell you how to prepare the antidote.’

  ‘That’s wonderful.’

  ‘But while I was waiting for my contact to call me back, I did some more digging around to see what else I could find out about the mamba rose. I’ve come across something … well, it’s kinda unconventional. Possibly a load of BS, if you’ll pardon my French.’

  She waited for him to continue.

  ‘I found a research paper online written by an anthropologist, name of James Martens. This paper has recently been added to the online archive of the American Journal of Anthropology. An abstract came up when I googled mamba rose and virus, so I bought the full paper. It appears Martens stayed with the Hadza tribe in Tanzania for a year back in the seventies. It’s a fascinating account.’

  Kate felt herself growing impatient again. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Hmm …’ There was a pause, as if he was scanning through the article as he spoke. ‘Yes, here we are: Martens writes about how there was an outbreak of a disease among the tribesfolk. They had another name for it, but the symptoms sound exactly like Watoto. Identical, in fact. And Martens wrote that the Hadza had a cure for it.’

  Kate was suspicious. ‘A cure? If there was some kind of folk cure for Watoto, I would have heard of it.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ Black said. ‘This paper was obscure – it was only added to their online archive this year, and it doesn’t actually mention Watoto by name, so you would only have found it if you were searching for the mamba rose – which you wouldn’t have done before, am I right?’

  ‘Yes … that’s right.’ She felt her excitement growing.

  ‘Virology isn’t my field, but can plants be used to tackle viruses?’

  ‘Well, as yet no one has discovered an antivirus that is derived from a plant, but there’s an awful lot of research going on. The US Government has set up an agency called the Natural Products Branch – I assume you’ve heard of it? They’ve been carrying out a huge screening programme, because there are millions of plant chemicals out there – a whole world of undiscovered treatments. No antivirals yet, but plenty of antimicrobials …’ She purposefully moved the conversation on. ‘But what was this cure the Hadza came up with?’

  ‘Get this.’ He paused for effect. ‘They used the mamba rose plant. Martens writes that the tribesfolk made a medicine from it which they gave to the victims of the virus, and within about twenty-four hours they started to get better. They almost all made a full recovery.’

  ‘But the poisonous sap should have …’ She broke off. She was going to say it should have killed them, but as she spoke, the solution had come to her.

  ‘You’re thinking exactly what I was thinking,’ said Professor Black.

  ‘That the medicine contained both the poisonous sap – and the antidote for the poisonous sap.’

  ‘Yup. So the sap contains some kind of antiviral agent that stops Watoto.’

  ‘And the other part of the plant makes the sap safe. Oh my God.’

  Kate’s mind raced. If this was true, then it would be the answer she had been searching for. But how far could she trust the account of some obscure anthropologist who had published a research paper, what, almost forty years ago? Could it really be possible that this plant contained an antiviral agent that would stop Watoto? Kate was more open-minded than many of her peers: she believed, as she’d told Black, that there could be many ways of tackling viruses that had yet to be discovered. Some using high-tech methods, but it was equally possible there might be others that relied on natural sources. This wouldn’t help them create a vaccine – but an antiviral could be used to help anyone who had contracted the disease.

  ‘Does it say anything else about James Martens on that site?’ she asked.

  ‘Yep. I’m ahead of you. I did some googling. Mr Martens was a lecturer in anthropology at Dartmouth College in New Hampshire. Retired a few years ago. He’s on Facebook.’

  Kate almost laughed. ‘You’re kidding?’

  ‘I already checked out his page – looks like he uses it to keep in touch with his grandkids and former students. I sent him a message asking him to get in touch with me. He messaged me back right before I called you. He’s expecting your call.’

  ‘Professor Black—’

  ‘Call me Simon.’

  ‘Thank you so, so much.’

  He gave her the number for James Martens and she ended the call. Harley was standing behind her.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked, when he saw the excitement on her face.

  ‘I need to call New Hampshire. Now.’

  James Martens was polite and helpful. He reminded her of some of the academics she had worked with at Boston; well-spoken and keen to share his knowledge. He remembered his time with the Hadza tribe as clearly as if it was last week, he said, even though he was finding it increasingly hard to remember what he’d done the day before.

  ‘They took the entire plant, dug it up, roots and all, and kind of crushed it in this big pot,’ he said. ‘Then they took all the … juice and injected it into each of the sick people.’

  ‘Injected it?’

  ‘Yes, they had needles and syringes that they’d got from the great armies of missionaries and aid workers who were constantly tramping through the place.’

  ‘Yes. Of course.’

  ‘So, yes, they injected them. I couldn’t believe it. I knew they used the mamba roses to poison their arrows; I thought maybe they were trying to put the people out of their misery, like some form of euthanasia. But then they got better. I’ll never forget it.’

  Kate described to Martens the exact symptoms of Watoto, from beginning to end. ‘Are you sure that fits what these people had?’

  ‘Absolutely. Pretty rare disease though, isn’t it?’

  ‘It used to be. It’s in the process of wiping out California.’

  ‘What? The Indian flu?’

  ‘Yes. It’s not flu – it’s a new strain of Watoto.’

  ‘Holy … Of course I’ve heard about it, it’s all over the news. They just reported the first couple of cases here – but no one said anything about it being Watoto.’

  That meant, Kate realised, that it had spread across the whole country. It must be in Dallas by now. She had been completely cut off from the world for days, not even a week yet but it felt like much much longer. She needed to talk to Jack.

  Kate spoke to Martens for a while longer before disconnecting and
handing Harley back his phone. She gave him a rapid summary of what she’d learned.

  ‘So, in a nutshell, we need to crush one of those plants that’s growing out back and inject it into Paul?’ Harley said, his tone sceptical.

  ‘If we can believe any of it. First I need to run tests, to identify the compounds and agents in the plant, to work out the dosage. I can’t simply mix it up and inject it into him.’

  She went to the doorway and looked in at Paul. He was sweating so much he looked like he’d just got out of the shower. The room stank of sickness.

  Harley followed her over. ‘How long do we have?’ he said in a low voice.

  ‘When exactly did he start displaying symptoms?’

  ‘Yesterday afternoon, when we left the prison.’ Harley checked his watch. ‘It’s just gone noon now. So, less than twenty-four hours ago.’

  ‘The police officer they brought to the lab had been showing symptoms for seventy-two hours when he died. That means we should still have up to forty-eight hours, depending on Paul’s underlying health, which is good. But in some cases the toxin is released early, so we can’t really be sure.’

  ‘OK. Tell me again what you need.’

  Kate thought. ‘The first thing I need is a better lab. The one here is ill-equipped and cramped. I need a team – the best people who are still alive. I’m going to need some rats or monkeys. And I need a load of those plants from out back. Roots and all.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘And I’m going to need a lot of coffee.’

  Harley smiled. ‘All right. Let’s get you back to Sequoia, we’ll use the lab there. It’s the best in the country.’

  Kate looked over at Paul again. ‘I wish Isaac were here, that that bitch hadn’t killed him.’

  ‘Hmm, Angelica. There’s another problem – I’m afraid we’re going to have to take her with us. All the prisons in this area have been shut down by the virus. I just had a call from HQ to say that they can’t spare any more agents, so she’s in my care for the foreseeable.’

  ‘As long as she doesn’t come anywhere near me.’

  Kate sighed as Harley took out his phone and started making more calls. She went over to Paul.