Simon Ming was very pleased. The experiment had unfolded exactly as planned. The outbreak at Warm Springs was significant, but quite minor in terms of the total number of patients. And just as quickly as it started, it subsided, providing ample reason for the CDC investigators to close their files. It was very likely, he reasoned, they would attribute the disease to a natural mutation that quickly burned itself out.
With no further spread of the ailment, there was no reason for the government health officials to even consider developing a vaccine, not that they would be able to anytime soon. And by the time they realized the true magnitude of the event, it would be too late.
He reflected on the years of research that had been invested in this project, a project he knew his father would be proud of. A brilliant scientist in his own right, Ming’s father had pioneered many of the gene-editing tools used in this work. If only his father was still alive… the breakthroughs they could have achieved. Working together, father and son, pushing the boundaries of genetics to new limits—limits that others could only dream of, the work of science fiction.
But it wasn’t fiction at all. His genius in using gene editing to create new viruses was only the beginning. Once he released his creations, he would proceed to the next phase and resume his father’s work with more advanced organisms.
If God created life, Simon Ming would reshape that life to his liking.
s
Roger Corbett had been summoned to Simon Ming’s office. Like a complex ballet, there were many details to attend to. The choreography had to be executed flawlessly—even a minor departure from plan could result in failure. Too much time and money had been invested to falter now. In very short order, Ming would realize his goals. Revenge was just beyond his fingertips—so close, he could almost feel it.
“Are the drones ready?” Ming asked.
“The entire fleet has been prepared and delivered to your properties, along with the flight teams.”
“And I assume you’ve maintained secrecy?”
“That’s what you pay me for.”
“And I pay you well. If you want to continue getting your paycheck, a direct answer will suffice.”
Corbett pulled his shoulders back, dipped his chin and folded his hands at his waist. “Yes, sir. All crews believe they are operating a training exercise to test the vulnerability of municipal water supplies. Each crew thinks they are working alone—they don’t know about the other drones and flight teams.”
“Very good. Continue with the training regimen, and keep the teams isolated. We are too close to risk someone talking.”
“The pilots and engineers have been ordered to stay onsite. Compliance hasn’t been a problem since the accommodations are comfortable and each man is getting about a year’s pay for this short job. But just to be sure, I have a number of guards at each site.”
Ming nodded his approval. “Now all we need is the virus. Are we still on schedule?”
“We’re ready to transfer production. Just give me the order. The field lab should be equipped, and the operators say they are almost ready.”
“Have you confirmed their claim?”
“No, sir.”
Ming paused in thought, mentally reviewing the timetable and logistics. It was essential to seed the virus at a great many locations in as short a time as possible. If he could overwhelm the ability of national and regional public health organizations to deal with the sick, the disease would spread relatively unchecked before any antidote or vaccine could be developed. It would be a biological blitzkrieg, and the result would be devastating.
“Perhaps it would be wise to pay a visit,” Ming said. “This operation is more sophisticated than a run-of-the-mill meth lab. Let’s not make the mistake of assuming our meth chemist is as prepared as he claims to be. A wise man once said, Trust but verify.”
“No worries, sir. I have an important staff meeting scheduled for tomorrow. It might raise unnecessary questions if I’m absent. However, if you agree, I can leave the following morning. The lab is located on a remote parcel of land, east of Bend. I can make the trip there and back in a day. Should I let the chemist know when I’ll be there?”
“Let’s do this without advance notice. That way, you’ll get the real picture and not a staged show.”
“Understood.”
s
Darnell Price leaned back in his chair. His office at Cascade Aqua Company was modest. The furnishings were limited to a typical business desk with chairs for two visitors. Although functional and clean, it could have been purchased from a thrift store. The walls as well as his desktop were devoid of personal photos, framed diplomas, or certificates of achievement. Instead, there were three large prints showing various stages of the bottling line. A single row of books was arranged on a shelf behind his desk. The titles indicated that the tomes taught manufacturing excellence, quality control, lean manufacturing, water chemistry, and bottling processes.
A private man, Darnell did not socialize much, and he was rarely seen at public events. He was known to be a wealthy man, but his precise net worth was the subject of conjecture, not fact. He drove a late model Cadillac, but so did a lot of people. He lived in an apartment in downtown Eugene. From his balcony, he had a direct view of Spencer Butte.
Darnell Price had a knack for business. Following his BS degree in biomedical engineering from the University of California, Davis, he earned an MBA from Brown University prior to beginning a five-year apprenticeship at his father’s company. The senior Price built a successful business manufacturing and selling medical devices. It was a natural fit for Darnell, and he assumed the leadership position when his father died. The company flourished under Darnell’s direction, exhibiting double-digit growth year after year. He was at the top of his game when he sold the company for an undisclosed amount.
That same year he married the love of his life. Head-over-heels in love, highly successful, rich, a respected member of society… Darnell was the envy of everyone who knew him. Life was perfect.
But it soon began to unravel.
A week before their first anniversary, his wife died only three days following childbirth due to an infection she acquired while in labor. Seven months later, tragedy struck again as his twin children died within days of each other from influenza. His money and success offered no protection from the illnesses that ripped away his family.
His grief was inconsolable. With no siblings and both parents deceased, he suffered alone, soon sinking into a deep depression. Every day he thought about ending the pain, and twice he came very close to carrying through and ending his life.
It took months, but eventually he began to rise from his self-pity and despair. Even so, the death of his wife and daughters left deep scars on his psyche. He stopped seeing his friends and withdrew into a dark and empty shell.
Darnell became obsessed with the notion that humankind was being besieged by Nature. He found groups on social media with similar beliefs, watched documentaries and read books espousing that people had overpopulated the Earth. He even fleshed out half-baked theories that natural events—such as disease, extreme weather, conflict, and famine—would cause massive loss of human life.
He needed something more immediate and uplifting to occupy his mind, and eventually he bought Cascade Aqua. Running the business provided the needed distraction from thoughts of natural disasters. It was a remarkably simple operation, far beneath his business acumen. But it provided a mental tonic, although he never gave up his new-found passion.
Despite his frequent blogging on the topic and the growing number of followers, he’d been unsuccessful in lobbying congress to enact laws that would limit the number of children a couple could have. Then he met Simon Ming, and everything changed.
He’d passed the point of no return when he left Ming’s office at Utopian-Bio that fateful day thirteen months ago. So much had transpired since that first meeting.
The experiment in Warm Springs was successful beyond his most generous imagination. The virus worked exactly as Simon Ming had promised, and the CDC would be closing their investigation now that the outbreak had subsided. He doubted the investigators would ever learn the truth that the contagion was in the bottled water his company had generously donated.
Very soon, he would complete the final act—an act that would be hailed as the salvation of the human race.