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Markis swallowed painfully. “You think he passed something to me? Some kind of infection that can get past the Plague. We have to quarantine everyone...”
“I don’t know, sir, I’m just a jumped-up grunt, but I don’t think so. None of us are sick. I think you got a big dose from the handshake, whatever was on the glove, but none of us did. It’s just like an invasion. You got a bunch of troops landed on your beach and you’re fighting to contain it, but all any of us got, if anything, is a few stragglers. The Plague is too strong for it.”
“Not really the Plague, Karl. The Plague supercharges our bodies’ natural immune and healing systems. It’s just a common misconception that the Plague is running around inside of us like a security force. It’s more like the power behind the security force.”
“Whatever you say, sir, you’re the medical man. But in any case...none of us are sick.”
“If I get better...we can’t prove anything. And if I die...we still couldn’t prove anything.” He groaned as a shuddering chill went through him.
“Maybe I can. I got his water glass sealed in a bag. He touched it with his gloves.”
Markis’ sweating face smiled weakly. “Dumb grunt, huh? That was a move worthy of one of Cassie’s people.”
“Thank you, sir. You know what, though, sir? If they really hoped to kill you, this is just Plan A. There will be a Plan B.”
“Well, plan A seemed clumsy; let’s hope they are equally inept with Plan B.” Markis grabbed for the wastebasket and vomited into it again, bringing up nothing but some thin bile as cramps wracked his guts.
Karl nodded, waiting until the fit passed. “Plan A did seem half-assed. Even if we couldn’t prove it we would know, and it would poison any chance at relations for a while. Or will. It didn’t even have to kill you to do that. It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe someone wanted to poison relations. So I think it does, Chief. I think it does. Let me rest.” Markis said no more right then, despite his security chief’s obvious interest. Speculating on motives wouldn’t help Karl do his job any better; in fact it might distract him. He lay back in bed and mulled the whole thing over.
Markis had always told himself he wasn’t a thinker, but he gradually accepted that it was his role to be one anyway. He sometimes wondered if he hadn’t been copping out as a young man. Not thinking, just following orders, was an easier way to live. Looking for something or someone to make his decisions for him, to simplify his life, to reduce his hard choices down to just a few easy ones. He was sure God was rolling with laughter right now at where his life had ended up. He drifted off to sleep with that gnawing thought.
He woke up to the feel of a cool swab on his inner arm; not strictly needed on an Eden, but old sanitary habits died hard. He watched the application and felt the sting of a hypodermic needle.
Bettina smiled as she drew a blood sample, then swapped tubes and took three more. “If you approve I want to give two of these to the Swiss and keep two for ourselves. I should have thought of it sooner. Whatever is in your bloodstream, we want to have samples before it’s all cleaned out. That means you need to pee in the cup too, and get a stool sample if possible.”
“Oh, joy. All right, give me the kits.” He got up, shaky but able, to perform those ablutions in the sparkling hotel lavatory. This was a case where the bidet turned out to be a welcome fixture.
He ate a little bit and went back to sleep; he would have to be as rested as possible for the morning. He woke up early, and sent the duty PSD for Rogett.
Karl arrived a moment later, looking fresh and mean. “Sir, the Swiss have redoubled their security arrangements, and they have disarmed and scrutinized the other side, to include full body scans for everyone but the PM. They are also going to provide sterile gloves for Portmanteaux and for you as well. Short of using biohazard suits, they are making every effort to eliminate whatever contagion it was while allowing the meeting to go forward. But sir, I urge you not to shake his hand. What if he has some other trick? An implanted spring-loaded needle or something? What if he’s a double with implanted explosives?”
“Thanks, Karl, but you’re getting paranoid. That is, a little too paranoid even for this job. They took a shot and failed; they won’t do anything at the meeting. Whatever else they have planned, it will be afterward. What about the plane?”
“We’ve had two people plus the pilots on it at all times. They aren’t happy that they didn’t get to see Geneva. I promised them they could come back on their own. I told them to do a full inspection every two hours, regardless. The Swiss are securing the hangar.”
“Departure?”
“Hartmann assures me they have it covered.”
“Well, that’s all we can do. Someone bring me the tablet. I need to review the notes.”
Two hours later they were walking into the Swiss Foreign Ministry’s secure conference room again. The only difference was that this time each of the principals was handed a set of gloves before entering.
Markis put his on, shook hands sharply with Portmanteaux, then peeled them off immediately and tossed them to the waiting Swiss technologist, to be put straight into a sample bag. He sat down disdainfully, without waiting for the others, slouching disrespectfully back in his seat, his eyes deliberately aflame.
Portmanteaux took his off more slowly, handing them to the staffer on his right, then sat as well. He kept his eyes off Markis.
“I’m sorry, I must insist that those be given back.” Hartmann held out the sample bag for the gloves.
Portmanteaux’s security man, big to match Rogett across from him, looked as if he was going to object until the Canadian Prime Minister made a peremptory gesture. He gave up the gloves.
“What was that all about?” asked the PM.
Markis’ expression was cold fire, his voice hard as iron. “I had hoped we were not playing games, Mister Prime Minister. I refuse to do so. So on the naïve assumption that you are sincere, I will tell you. Immediately after I left the meeting yesterday, I became gravely ill. The nature of the disease was not clear, though we have taken samples and we – or our hosts – will soon know. But I find it extremely suspicious that as a Plague carrier I have not been ill in ten years, yet I suddenly contract something and almost die from it immediately after shaking hands with you?”
Portmanteaux’s color had been slowly draining from his face as the Chairman spoke. Now he bowed his head and spoke quietly. “I apologize on behalf of my government and I assure you I had nothing to do with it. If any of my people know anything, I also assure you I will hold them responsible and I will deal with them, and I will inform you of the results of the investigation. Peter, you will handle this, yes?”
The man to his right nodded, his brow furrowed and angry.
Markis caught his emphasis – “my government” – and sighed. “I’m going to take a leap of faith – again – and assume you are sincere. But it is incidents just such as this that are blocking the way to peace. Some people, some power blocs, do not want settlement. They only want victory at any cost, Pyrrhic victory. Have you heard from your government regarding my proposals?”
Portmanteaux folded his naked hands on the table, then unfolded them, pouring himself a glass of water, which he sipped slowly.
He’s stalling. Why? Just regaining his composure? Or is it some kind of act? Markis compared this demeanor with the man’s masterful performance yesterday, and made a decision. He stood up, startling everyone.
“These talks are now suspended. You obviously do not have an answer, which makes me suspect you are a catspaw whose only purpose was to try to kill or otherwise incapacitate me. Despite my doubts I believe you might be an honorable man. Feel free to contact me through the usual channels and perhaps in a month or two we may make some kind of progress.”
“Mister Chairman, I assure you –”
“Don’t bother. If you want to implement some of the terms of our proposals and rebuild a modicum of good faith, release the Eden carriers in your concentration camps. They are meaningless except as hostages, and you have no need of human shields with us. As soon as that is done I will order our cyber attacks suspended. Perhaps we can proceed from there.”
Portmanteaux seemed deflated, the stuffing knocked out of him, but he stood up and straightened manfully, holding out his hand.
Markis stared at it with neither movement nor change of expression, his own hands clasped firmly behind his back. He felt like spitting on it but he thought that might be going too far.
After a moment, the Prime Minister withdrew his gesture and turned to go. “Very well. I bid you good day, Mister Chairman.”
They all left the room in silence.
Markis stared out the window of the limousine as they drove back to the hotel, his hopes dashed and his thoughts darkening. “Well, Millie, that could have gone better. But to look on the bright side, if we can get some kind of trace from the samples we might be able to figure out just what they were trying to do.”
“Do you think he was really ignorant?”
“What did you think?”
Her brow furrowed. “I tend to think so. I think he hoped to drive a hard bargain, that maybe he was going to come back today with the usual conditions and ‘oh I’m sorry, my government needs concessions,’ but basically he was sincere. It seemed to me he was genuinely embarrassed.”
“That’s my impression, too, but neither of us is as good at this game as he is. That’s why I broke it off – I want to talk to Cassie and some others, try to ferret out what the hell might really be going on.”
She nodded, making notes on her tablet as they drove into the underground hotel garage. “When are we leaving, sir?”
“Just as soon as we can. Maybe we can upset someone’s timetable if we move fast. Karl, you approve?”
“Now you’re thinking like your old self, sir. Always do the unexpected.”
They got out of the limo and walked briskly toward the elevators. As soon as they were out of earshot of the Swiss guards, Markis said in a lowered voice, “Good. Now go charter a plane.”
