The Susquehanna Virus Box Set

by Steve McEllistrem

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lendra dipped her little finger into the glass bulb of her necklace, coating it with neo-dopamine, then rubbed the drug along her gums. Closing her eyes for a moment, she inhaled, smelling the residue of burned plastic, the remnants of dinner and the musty odor of unwashed men. Metal clanking and snatches of words intruded from outside while rainbow colors drifted across her eyelids. She knew she was right on the edge, straddling the fine line between heightened ability and a dazed overdose.

  She re-sealed the glass bulb, then put the necklace back around her neck. She needed to find a way to break into Julianna’s interface. No matter how clever the former ghost thought she was, she was no match for Lendra. Refreshing her sat-connection and locating Julianna’s signal, Lendra searched for a way inside the programming.

  She didn’t want to kill Julianna, but she had to ensure that no harm came to Jeremiah. If she could somehow hack into Julianna’s interface and sabotage her connectivity, she could render the interface essentially worthless. Then Julianna, dependent on Jeremiah to see her safely back to the shelter, would be in no position to betray him again.

  It was delicate work, requiring patience and the silky touch of a butterfly’s wing. Carefully, stealthily, Lendra bypassed the field dampener the Elite Ops had set up, then accessed the local sat-connection, examining the flow of data across the link, seeking an opportunity to slip inside Julianna’s interface connection. She searched for a pattern she could piggyback on to, essentially becoming a stowaway inside Julianna’s interface. Most of the data threads were too tenuous or insubstantial; many flickered out just as she was about to touch them. But several were relatively strong. She spent most of her time with them, experimenting with transcendental poly-algorithmic variables, patiently storming the quantum cryptographic defenses of Julianna’s interface.

  And then she had it: a foothold through the GPS stream. She established an imperceptible tie-in, the tiniest of connections, a link she could strengthen later, if necessary. For now, she had access and would be able to examine Julianna’s incoming and outgoing transmissions. She found nothing suspicious, which was suspicious in itself.

  As Lendra surfed the connection to Julianna’s interface, she made several further adjustments to the data stream to ensure that Julianna would never detect her presence. Then she watched the link, waiting for the right moment to cut off Julianna’s connection to the outside world.

  A knock came at the door.

  Minimizing the link to Julianna’s interface, Lendra got to her feet, opened the door and found Sister Ezekiel standing in the hallway. She said, “Sister, what can I do for you?”

  “May I come in?”

  “Of course.” Lendra gestured to the room’s sole chair, closed the door and took a place on the bed. She paused her interface, then said, “Is this a social call?”

  Sister Ezekiel looked from Lendra’s interface to her eyes. “How are the accommodations?”

  “Fine, Sister.”

  Sister Ezekiel nodded. “Have you seen Dr. Mary?”

  Lendra frowned. She detected something different in the way Sister Ezekiel said Dr. Mary’s name. Did Sister Ezekiel know Dr. Mary was really Julianna? Did she know what kind of monster worked as the shelter’s doctor? “No,” she said, “I haven’t seen her in a while.”

  Sister Ezekiel stared at Lendra, her eyes looking larger than normal behind her glasses. She reminded Lendra of her old fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Lowell, who seemed to be able to read her mind. Lendra tried not to flinch.

  “She seemed rather friendly with Jeremiah,” Sister Ezekiel said casually. “What about him? Have you seen him?”

  “He left, Sister. He had some things to do outside.”

  “Like looking for Devereaux?” Sister Ezekiel fixed her steel-gray eyes on Lendra’s. “Or Cookie Monster?”

  “Yes.”

  “And why aren’t you with him?”

  “I’m conducting my own search here,” Lendra said, pointing to her interface. “Checking surveillance video, looking at your visitors over the last few weeks to see if I can find anything. If Devereaux has been here, I might be able to spot him.”

  “Do you really believe he’s created bioweapons that could wipe out humanity?”

  “I don’t know, Sister. That’s partly why we need to find him.”

  “What do you think of him personally?”

  Lendra sat back and braced herself with her arms behind her on the bed, glad to be talking about something other than Jeremiah and Julianna. “I don’t know what to make of him,” she said. “He’s interesting. I’d like to ask him about his ladder of enlightenment. He had to know it would cause a huge uproar, given how religious our country has become—how religious the world is.” Lendra smiled briefly. “I’d also like to ask him about the statue—‘Emerging Man.’ I think it’s partly what inspired him to publish his ladder.”

  “How so?” Sister Ezekiel said.

  “It’s more than just the physical look of the statue. There’s something else…something I can’t quite put my finger on.”

  With a slightly ironic, devilish grin, and despite her obvious fatigue, Sister Ezekiel looked toward the ceiling and rattled off: “You mean the fact that it was created by two different artists using distinct styles who still somehow managed to blend them together into a cohesive whole?”

  Lendra laughed.

  Sister Ezekiel said, “I’ve visited that statue every week for years. I’ve heard people discuss it at great length. I can cite chapter and verse on it.”

  “So you know it’s important. Do you know why?”

  Sister Ezekiel pursed her lips, as if thinking it through. “Ryan Connelly,” she finally said, “the one who you said was Devereaux’s grandfather, changed the meaning of the statue by sculpting the body in a more abstract style, and also added depth by altering the nature of the struggle depicted in the statue’s face. If you study only the face, all you see is a conflict between joy and sorrow. But when you add in the body, you see the eternal struggle to better ourselves.”

  “Well, you’ve just put your finger on why I’d like to talk to him about it,” Lendra said. “That statue is Devereauxnian fodder. It has an importance Gray Weiss hasn’t yet grasped.” She paused for a moment, then added, “I also don’t like Gray Weiss. He’s on a power trip and I don’t trust him. Do you?”

  “I’m not sure what to think about Mr. Weiss.”

  “I’m sure he thinks he’s doing the right thing. He wants to fundamentally change our government, become our benevolent leader. You see that, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “But benevolent or not,” Lendra said, “he still wants to be a dictator.”

  “You speak with great passion. Though it’s easy to feel strongly that Weiss is wrong for America.”

  “And absolute power corrupts absolutely. Always has, always will. Even if by some miracle he manages to stay benevolent, once the democratic process is lost, it will not be regained. Not for a long time.” Lendra had a sudden inspiration. “Not until after we’ve had some terrible leaders—more men telling us how to live our lives, as if they haven’t ruined the world enough so far. And then there’ll be another revolution.”

  She spotted the flash of anger in Sister Ezekiel’s eyes. Lendra felt almost guilty discussing the dominance of men—a subject she knew Sister Ezekiel would feel at least as strongly about as she did.

  “You paint a pretty dismal picture, child,” Sister Ezekiel said.

  “I’ve studied this, Sister. I’ve learned how to read society, how to predict the likely consequences of broad influences from trends and polls. You’ve heard of social prediction?”

  “Yes.” Sister Ezekiel adjusted her glasses, which had begun to slip down her nose. “But I didn’t think it was too well thought of.”

  Lendra sighed. “If done properly
, it can be a wonderful tool. One has to understand what data to analyze. There are crisis points throughout history, where the world changed as a result. Most were physical in nature. Asteroids hitting the earth. Volcanoes. Plague.” She paused for a moment to see if Sister Ezekiel was following her. Sister Ezekiel nodded. “But in recent centuries the crises have become more human-manufactured. Wars. Human-engineered viruses—like the Susquehanna Virus. Terrorism. Societal problems created by disgruntled groups. You know what I mean?”

  “Yes.”

  “And we’re close to another crisis point, Sister. Very close. Thousands are dying every day.”

  Sister Ezekiel held up a hand. “And you think those problems can be solved by removing Devereaux from society?”

  Lendra shook her head. “Certainly not. But his bioweapons are a threat that must be contained.”

  “Is Jeremiah with Dr. Mary?”

  Lendra’s head jerked back, surprised by the sudden change of subject. This nun was sharp. Lendra would have to be careful around her. She said, “Why would you think that, Sister?”

  “Did you know that Dr. Mary isn’t who she appears to be?”

  Lendra shrugged and said, “Who is she?”

  “I don’t know. But I can tell you that she’s a Devereauxnian and that Mr. Weiss and Colonel Truman think she was working with Raddock Boyd before his death.”

  A tic developed behind Lendra’s right eye, a sign that she’d taken too much neo-dopamine. “Boyd is dead?”

  “Mr. Weiss’ truth drugs killed him.”

  “Now you know why I oppose him.”

  Sister Ezekiel nodded, then said, “I think Dr. Mary—the woman who’s been masquerading as Dr. Mary—is with Jeremiah. I think you knew that. What I don’t know is what they’re up to. If Dr. Mary really is a Devereauxnian, why would she be helping Jeremiah unless he’s a Devereauxnian too?”

  Lendra shook her head slowly, her eyes on the floor. She too wondered about Jeremiah. Was he planning to double-cross Eli and run a rogue operation? If so, how could she benefit from that? Lifting her eyes, she met Sister Ezekiel’s stare, then sat forward, crossed her arms over her chest and said, “I thought you wanted to help Devereaux.”

  “I want the truth.”

  “All right, Sister. Here it is. I don’t know what Dr. Mary has in mind. But I don’t trust her. And you shouldn’t, either. She’s dangerous. She’s out there with Jeremiah right now and I wouldn’t be surprised if she got him killed.”

  “That’s not all the truth, is it? What more do you know that you’re not saying?”

  “I’ve told you everything I can, Sister.”

  “I expected an answer like that,” Sister Ezekiel said. “Another half-truth from another person with a hidden agenda.” She got to her feet and opened the door. Without looking back, without saying goodnight, she left.

  Lendra closed the door behind her. She told herself she had no reason to feel guilty. She hadn’t just been exploiting Sister Ezekiel’s past. Men were the cause of all the world’s major problems. Witness Devereaux and Weiss and even Eli. When Lendra’s turn came to run CINTEP, things would change.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Rain fell steadily. Dry in their Camos, Jeremiah and Julianna sat quietly. They had moved about a half-mile downwind, stopping to make certain that Truman’s soldiers found the burning house, the dead bodies. Jeremiah stared into the darkness at nothing, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He had to overcome the anger, the insane urge to lash out at the EOs regardless of the consequences. That kind of thinking would only get him killed. And he had to stay alive for Joshua.

  Julianna’s thigh touched his, making him tense. He blinked three times, relaxing his muscles and holding himself in a state of hyper-awareness, prepared to defend himself against Julianna should she suddenly decide to strike out at him.

  After a few minutes, he checked his scanner. Apart from the soldiers, he found nothing resembling a human. And since the Escala would register as humans, Cookie Monster and his friends likely had scatterers. For Mars Project scientists, building a scatterer would be simplicity itself. They would be difficult to track down.

  More disturbing was the fact that the Elite Ops didn’t appear on the scanner. They should have appeared on the screen, if not as human bio-signs, then at least as distortions of bioelectrical patterns. But the scanner showed nothing. Had the EOs moved out so quickly that they were no longer in range, or were they now using scatterers? That wasn’t their style but, if they were, Jeremiah could be in real trouble. The only saving grace was that EOs couldn’t move silently. With their nuclear power packs and heavy body armor, they made so much noise that they’d have no chance of sneaking up on him.

  Julianna leaned heavily against him. He felt a tremor running through her and noticed her eyes glistening as she looked at the dying fire through the trees. Mixed in with the smell of the earth, the pines and the ozone, Jeremiah caught faint odors of burning wood and melting plastic. This whole mission was becoming more impossible every hour. A part of him longed to run away, leave all this madness behind for Eli or Weiss to clean up, and return to the search for his son. He wondered if Devereaux had really designed bioweapons that could destroy humanity. In the end it didn’t matter. Jeremiah had a larger duty to the world. He had to find Devereaux, get him to the President and let her figure out how to deal with the threat.

  Julianna hadn’t spoken for ten minutes. Twice Jeremiah started to say something. Both times he stopped. What could he say to make her feel better? What had anyone been able to say to console him after Joshua disappeared? Words simply didn’t matter. Still, he ought to say something. He put his arm around her and she put her head on his shoulder. Whatever her thoughts were, they were as dark as his.

  He tried a third time, “I’m sorry, Julianna.”

  “I made a terrible mistake, Jeremiah.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “When I betrayed you. You were the only man who ever treated me as an equal.”

  “What about Eli?”

  Julianna laughed. Jeremiah wondered if she was getting hysterical. She said, “The leech? I was nothing but a tool to him. So are you.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You think Elias is your friend?”

  “I trust him,” Jeremiah said, wondering if Julianna would detect the lie.

  “He doesn’t trust you,” Julianna lifted her head and turned to look at him. His arm dropped away. She touched his leg tentatively, then pulled her fingers back. In the darkness she was little more than shadow. “He didn’t want you in on this job, Jeremiah. You were his second choice.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He called me first and asked me to do the job for him.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “He knew I was here.”

  Jeremiah’s stomach contracted as he sensed the truth of her statement. “You’ve been in contact with him?”

  “Of course.”

  “Unbelievable! God, you two are a pair.” He spread his arms and pushed his belly forward. “Why don’t you just stab me now and be done with it?”

  “Calm down, Jeremiah.”

  “This is bullshit. You’re both insane.”

  “He asked me to kidnap Devereaux. I refused.”

  Jeremiah dropped his hands. “But…why would he keep in contact with you?”

  “Why not? There was nothing personal in what I did before.”

  “Nothing personal? How about a quick knife to the gut? How about a betrayal that still burns like…” Jeremiah’s voice trailed off. She’d already apologized. He said, “Have you done other jobs for him since…”

  “Since I stabbed you? Yes, darling, I have. Nasty, difficult jobs that no one else wanted. Jobs he knew you wouldn’t take. And some that he wanted kept secret from you or the ag
ency.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Jeremiah said. Yet a part of him did believe. He’d always known that was the way Eli worked—compartmentalizing everything, keeping information back, hiding his true goals from his minions.

  “Anyway,” Julianna said. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. If I’d known then what I know now, I wouldn’t have done it.” She sighed. “I think, even as I was betraying you, I knew I was making the biggest mistake of my life.”

  “Are you asking me to forgive you?”

  “I would never ask that. But I want you to know I regret what I did. If I could turn the clock back, if I knew then what I know now, I wouldn’t make that mistake again.” Julianna looked down.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Jeremiah asked. “Every time I brought up anything serious like that you used to laugh at me.”

  “Devereaux lets us change. And I have. I’m not the same person I was. Funny,” she said with a harsh laugh, “I’ve often thought back to my training with the leech, back to the tests he made me take, the psychological assessments and the bizarre scenarios he cooked up in the simulator. Remember that damn simulator?”

  Jeremiah nodded. “I haven’t thought about it in a long time. I stopped using it. That virtual reality crap gives me migraines, just like the interface.”

  “I don’t know what the scenarios were like when he ran them on you, but with me, they almost always involved diversions, counter-attacks, unseen enemies or friends who betrayed me. Games within games. He kept twisting the scenarios, programming changes into the system to keep me from trusting anyone who didn’t have a completely selfish motive. It was like he was programming me to betray you.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  Julianna raised her head. “He needed an agent on the outside, someone who would answer only to the lure of money, someone who would not be bound by the dictates of principle, someone he could turn to for that occasional delicate mission where no one could learn of his involvement.”

  “You still could be playing me,” Jeremiah said, “trying to confuse me.”