Saturday
Jim stood at the front window of his grandfather’s house and watched the white Volkswagen make its way around the lake and up the hill. His grandfather sat watching him.
“A woman, is it? Well, ye’ve taken yer sweet time about it, I warrant. Is this the one then?”
Jim flushed at the straightforward question. “I just met her last night, Grandfather.”
Angus Mackenzie snorted. “That were enough for your grandmither and me, and yer father, too.”
Jim glanced at the shrewd expression on the older man’s face and shifted uneasily. “That may be true, but this is a very independent young woman. She may not think she needs a husband.”
His grandfather lifted his cane, reached over, and poked Jim in the ribs with it. “Nonsense, lad. All a lass needs is a bit of encouragement.”
Jim laughed. “Not this one.”
“And who is it, then?”
“Her name is Virginia Forbes and she works at the hospital.”
“Ginny Forbes, is it?” Old Mr. Mackenzie’s eye twinkled.
“Do you know her?”
“Aye. A fine lass. Ye could do worse.”
Jim gave his grandfather a sharp look. “She’s a colleague, Grandfather. That’s all.”
“And is that how ye want it?”
“I don’t know what I want, but we’ll be working together so I have to be careful.”
“Careful not to let her get awa’, I should think.”
Jim sighed at the old man’s ignorance, then explained the situation. “Careful not to do or say anything that would make her report me to the board. I’m the new kid on the block, remember?”
Angus Mackenzie leaned forward. “I remember when we didna’ ha’e all this foolishness about lads and lasses. We met and we married and that was that.”
“Well, all we’re going to do today is have lunch and then go down to the medical school library and do some research on viruses.”
His grandfather nodded. “Tw’ll ha’e to do, fer a start.”
Jim turned to face him. “If you keep pushing this way, you’ll scare her off and then there won’t be anything to start.”
“I think ye’ll find that lass does nae scare easy.”
“We’ll have to finish this discussion later, Grandfather. She’s here.”
“Weel, ye’d better go, then. I’ll no hae ye keeping her waitin’.”
“Of course not, Grandfather.” Jim sighed at the eccentricities of ancestors and hurried out.
* * *
They lunched on submarine sandwiches, sharing chips and cookies and making small talk about the party the night before. Jim found himself charmed by her light-hearted banter and the habit she had of looking directly into his eyes when she smiled, as if he was the only person in the world. Even as it worked its magic on him, he recalled seeing her do the same last night to each person she spoke to. He had attributed it to the event and her role as hostess. He saw now that it was part of her character. The warmth was genuine.
When they were in his car and headed for the library, he sneaked a peek at the woman beside him. His grandfather’s attitude had disconcerted him. Modern professionals didn’t rush into things, especially not anything as serious as marriage.
He’d been attracted to her almost at once. He’d enjoyed their conversation the night before, had found himself drifting back to her during lulls in the party. He’d decided he wouldn’t mind getting to know her better and it had seemed a stroke of luck when he looked up in time to see her coming down the trail this morning. Now it looked more like fate.
He wasn’t surprised she’d resisted his offer to clean her wounds. She’d shown last night she had a stubborn streak a yard wide. What did astonish him was the change daylight made in her appearance. Last night, under the candles and chandeliers, he had thought her pretty, with good bones and a pleasant smile. Today, he thought he had never seen a more beautiful woman.
Her cheeks were rosy from the exercise, her lips, too. Her skin was flawless, if you didn’t mind the dusting of pale freckles, which he did not. Her eyes, half-hidden behind long lashes, sparkled with vigor and vitality, a startling shade of green, almost matching the shirt she wore. And her hair!
Jim had seen red hair in many varieties before, but none like this. It had to be more than one color; burnished reds and golds and chestnuts mingled in the thick braid ending in a sausage curl. He longed to wrap that curl around his fingers, to pull on it and watch it spring back into shape. He smiled to himself, remembering pulling on a girl’s braid back in elementary school, for only slightly different reasons. The smile faded as the medical school complex appeared and he remembered their errand. It would be a damned shame to lose this woman to some unknown virus. He turned into the parking lot, grimly aware he might not be able to prevent it.
* * *
Ginny pulled another volume from the shelves and looked at the index. It would have been easier if she could have done this on her computer, but most of these specialized journals and reference texts were not available online. She closed her aching eyes for a moment.
“Getting tired?” Jim asked.
“It’s a lot of material to keep straight.”
He nodded. “That’s because the viruses themselves are so slippery. They always seem to be one step ahead of us.” He settled down on the floor near her. “What do we have so far?”
She pulled her laptop over and scanned the notes she’d been making.
“Viruses that affect humans are common. Colds and flu are caused by viruses. So are mumps, measles, warts, cold sores, chickenpox and shingles, yellow fever, smallpox, hepatitis, rabies and mono, to name a few.”
She scrolled to the next section of her notes.
“Viruses are very specific. When they infect a human, they can only act in very narrowly defined ways. As a matter of fact, viruses are so specialized that if you swallow a virus that has to be inhaled, you won’t get sick.” She looked over at Jim. “But you knew all this.”
He nodded. “Go on.”
“A virus is just a collection of genetic material surrounded by a protein shell. Some researchers think that viruses exist solely to increase genetic diversity.”
“Interesting theory.”
“Viruses aren’t really alive. They don’t eat, for instance. All they do is make baby viruses, but for that they need a cell that is alive. So they’ve gotten really good at hijacking a host cell’s resources.
“The polio, herpes, and rabies viruses are all neurotropic, which means they prefer nerve cells. In the case of herpes, all it does is hide in the nerve cell, without damaging it. In the case of the other two, it destroys the nerve cell and causes paralysis and dementia.” She looked up at Jim. “Should we be looking for a neurotropic virus?”
“It sounds like it.”
“In general, viruses are fragile. They can be destroyed by heat, radiation, or drying out, but some can remain infective for days, weeks, even years, depending on the conditions. HIV can survive in laboratory settings at temperatures of minus seventy degrees Centigrade.” Ginny raised an eyebrow. “I looked that up. It works out to minus ninety-four Fahrenheit.”
Jim nodded. “Hence the numerous Sci-Fi stories in which you find viruses embedded in the permafrost.”
“I always thought the idea was too far-fetched to be credible. I know better now.”
She went back to her notes. “Viruses are transmitted in a lot of different ways; direct contact with infected fluids, inhaling airborne dust or droplets, or scooping up the virus from surfaces: doorknobs and tabletops, for instance. Pigs can catch both human and bird versions of viruses and act as a place where new strains of virus can evolve, which birds then distribute all over the world.”
She looked over at Jim. “Since we don’t know how Professor Craig was infected, we also don’t know whether you and I have been exposed.”
“This is Saturday, right?”
“Yes.”
“That makes it three days so far. I feel fine. How about you?”
“I have a headache, but I think it’s the research rather than the organism.”
“I’ll get you an aspirin when we get out of here.”
Ginny smiled and went back to her summary. “Most viruses are conquered by the human immune system and most leave behind enough antibodies to repel another attack by the same virus. That’s how vaccines work.”
Jim nodded.
“Unfortunately, there are always plenty of new viruses emerging, hence the two to three colds per season pattern. And there are some really bad bugs in the group. There’s a hantavirus that lives in deer mice, attacks the lungs and kills swiftly and surely. There’s HIV and all of its variants, which are slow viruses and can lie unsuspected for twelve to fifteen years, then break out and kill the victim. And there are the ‘hot agents,’ which, by definition, means a virus that spreads easily, kills swiftly, and has no cure. The most deadly are the hemorrhagic fevers. Most of the hot agents can become airborne. That’s what makes them so dangerous.”
“But that’s not what killed Professor Craig. We would have seen bleeding.”
Ginny nodded and continued reading. “There’s been a lot of work done on treating viruses, with some success. Early experiments included using viruses to move specific DNA strands into human cells, but more modern research is focusing on direct manipulation and targeted therapies.”
She scrolled down the page, nearing the end of her notes.
“The major problem for the medical community is the sheer number and variety of viruses. There are human issues, too, like isolating infected individuals to contain epidemics and the use of humans in experimental drug trials. In the field of research there are ongoing ethical concerns. For instance, the avian flu, which they were studying so they could develop a vaccine, now comes in an easy-to-catch version created by a scientist in a laboratory, making it a first-class target for a bioterrorist.”
Ginny set her computer down and sighed. “One thing seems clear.” She looked over at Jim and gave him a half-smile. “Viruses are going to inherit the Earth.”
He chuckled. “You may be right.”
Ginny stretched her back and shoulders. “I’ve had enough. Are you ready to leave?”
He nodded. “I just want to stop by the desk and check out a couple of things.”
They gathered up their possessions, put the books and journals on the return cart, swung past the checkout desk, then headed home.
“Are you getting hungry?” Jim asked. “I know of a good steak place.”
Ginny smiled. “I have dinner plans, but thank you for a lovely afternoon.”
“It was my pleasure.” He pulled up in front of his grandfather’s house, got out, and opened the door for her.
“Please say ‘hello’ to your grandfather for me,” she said.
He smiled at her as she climbed into her Volkswagen, and waved as she started to pull away, then broke into a run to catch her up.
“Wait!” He leaned on her driver’s side window. “I don’t have your number. How can I reach you?”
Ginny hesitated for a split second, then remembered the look in Hal’s eyes the night before. Hal’s eyes, dark and smoldering, so different from the laughing gray ones mere inches from her face at the moment. She smiled up at Jim. “You can always find me at the dancing,” she said. “Bye.”
* * *