Chapter 22

BETHESDA, MARYLAND

Infection Date 27, 1400 GMT (10:00 a.m. Local)

Emma and her roommates, other than the quiet one, watched television.

“In the past twelve hours,” President Stoddard announced, “North Korea detonated six nuclear weapons along its border with China. I call upon my fellow countrymen not to overreact to the senseless atrocities of one rogue regime, which in no way directly threatens America. Our armed forces are on alert and fully capable of dealing with all threats. Now I’ll take a few questions. Bill.” He pointed.

A man rose in the packed pressroom. “Mr. President, the North Koreans claim their nuclear strikes were justifiable self-defense intended to halt the flow of refugees illegally crossing their border who might carry the disease that has broken out in China.”

Before the man got to his question, the president said, “What nation would use nuclear weapons to enforce border controls? We reject Pyongyang’s reckless crime.”

“That wasn’t my question, sir. Does North Korea’s use of nuclear weapons lend credence to its contention that world leaders are suppressing the truth about the disease? Does the disease threaten a global pandemic, and do reports of widespread violence . . . ?”

“Are you suggesting,” Stoddard broke in again, “that we should believe the word of a regime that has just used nuclear weapons against refugees fleeing political unrest?”

He pointed to a reporter he called Sally. “Sir,” she said, “you just called it political unrest, but the Chinese insisted that it wasn’t unrest or rebellion that forced the government from Beijing. Ambassador Brown confirmed the same before his disappearance.”

“Is there a question?” President Stoddard said.

“Are Americans evacuated from China being quarantined to suppress the truth?”

“As you can imagine,” the president said, “in the turmoil of an evacuation, there’s an understandable disruption in communications, which we will resolve, I’m sure, shortly.”

“Is he lying?” Samantha asked. Emma nodded. Dwayne, who also contracted SED during that same evacuation, concurred.

“And isn’t the disease,” the female reporter asked, “the root of all that turmoil?”

“Fear of the unknown is, yes, contributing to the violence,” the president said.

“That’s lying too,” remarked Samantha. “Because of what he didn’t say.” Again Emma nodded and Dwayne agreed. But a baffled Dorothy looked from face to face.

“Mr. President, Switzerland just ordered most foreign nationals to leave the country within twenty-four hours, and advised all Swiss citizens to return within forty-eight hours. Can you comment on why a nation that relies on tourism would take such an unprecedented step?”

“Our own State Department has issued travel advisories, and I would personally suggest that all Americans monitor events closely before any foreign travel. Betty?”

“How can you characterize redeployment of forces back to the United States as being a reaction to increasing tensions in the Far East? Isn’t it instead a reaction to the disease . . . ?”

“So you’re re-raising North Korea’s contention? I would think that their use of nuclear weapons both discredits them and confirms the gravity of the security situation. This government will protect Americans from military and, yes, medical threats. As an example, we’re ramping up production of Tamiflu for use by hospital workers.”

“When are you going to tell us what you know about the disease?” came a shout.

The president hesitated. “We’ll have a full medical briefing, but I do not intend to add to the wild rumors out there. I will, however, tell you that the virus is called Pandoravirus horribilis and the disease is called SED, Severe Encephalopathic Disease.” The room exploded with questions as he strode from the podium.

“What about the troops in New York and L.A.?” . . . “Why’d you cancel your climate conference in Denver?” . . . “Is it true that the disease turns its victims into zombies?”

“Are we zombies?” Samantha asked. Emma shook her head. “Are we dead?” Again, a shake. Dwayne cupped his hand to Emma’s ear. “Is it time?” Emma nodded.

The window cleared to reveal Emma’s sister, Drs. Rosenbaum and Plante, and the nurse Beth. “Emmy, what . . . what was that whispering about?”

Emma said, “Dwayne told me that we should ask Nurse Hopkins to get us board games so that we can distract Samantha.” Sam returned Emma’s gaze. She understood now what a lie was.

“That, Emma, sweetie, was too many words. What he said to you was way shorter.”

Emma scrutinized her sister. Their hair was the major difference. With Isabel’s security badge, Emma might pass. She practiced curling her lips into the smile Beth always wore, but that felt odd. Next to her sister sat Isabel’s former lover Brandon. He’d been attracted to Isabel once, so he might find Emma sexually appealing also. That could prove useful.

The window frosted. Emma’s eyes settled on the wall, but her planning continued. She and her sister were intellectually superior to the others at the NIH. The Uninfecteds didn’t see it, but Sam, Dwayne, and Dorothy did, and they yielded to Emma’s judgment.

A thought occurred. The thought itself was unimportant—Don’t talk to anyone about your superior intelligence—but to whom did it occur? Was that a self? She wrote the thought down in her notebook.

Emma then looked up at the long, frosted window. “Isabel, are you there?”

The window cleared. The four Uninfecteds stared back. “Emma?” Isabel said. “Did you just . . . initiate a conversation?”

“Yes. When you hear a ‘self,’ is it a voice, or an idea that just forms in your brain?”

“Wow! Uhm, the latter. It just comes to you, but you don’t know from where.”

Emma understood. Uninfecteds manufactured the entire mythology of the self around concept formation like primitive peoples inventing gods to explain forces of nature. She decided not to write that down yet. They were copying her notes every day now. “Another question. When you finish studying us, are you going to let us go, or kill us?”

Isabel’s face instantly contorted. “Kill you? No! Of course not!” Another heated debate silently consumed the Uninfecteds, their audio muted. Isabel lowered her mouth to the microphone. “You’re still contagious, but don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”

“When the infection gets here,” Emma said, “have Noah get us released.” Isabel surreptitiously nodded once. Was this like her agreement with Hermann Lange in Siberia? Something was different. She hadn’t agreed to do anything for Isabel in return. She wrote in her notebook: Talk to Noah about contracts. “Next question,” she said. “Can you tell me where the other four pens are?”

“Is this some kind of game?” Isabel asked. “I see one beside the desk under the high window.” Samantha retrieved it. Dr. Rosenbaum scrutinized the laptop screen, at which Isabel pointed. “And there’s one . . .”

The room’s audio fell silent. Not just quiet, but absent the emptiness-filling hum of active speakers. Dr. Rosenbaum pressed a button repeatedly while speaking into his microphone, but no audio came through. The door into the observation room opened. The Marine officer who accompanied them to the military wing for testing entered. Dorothy tensed. Sam retreated to the corner. Dwayne stared not at his charge, but at the observation room. A major argument, with gesticulations by Isabel, was evidently ended by the Marine’s shrugging intransigence. He said something over a handheld radio.

The hum returned. An unsteady Isabel said, “Emmy, I’m sorry. We can’t answer because, apparently, security thinks you’re looking for holes in the video surveillance.”

“Hello, Captain Ramirez,” Emma said.

Isabel looked back and forth between Emma and the captain. A silent argument ensued, with Isabel yelling soundlessly, until the observation room emptied of all but Ramirez, who leaned over to a mic. “We said no funny business, remember?” The Infecteds stared back. “Please don’t make me cut you off. You give, we give.”

“A contract,” Emma said, and he nodded. She wrote in her notebook, “Consider organizing society based on contracts,” using the color red for social order.

Emma looked at the tense Samantha. Dorothy was shaking. The muscles on Dwayne’s neck stood out. Emma took a deep breath in through her nose, out through her mouth, again and again. Dwayne, Sam, and Dorothy followed her lead.