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T-minus 15 days to DEADLINE.
May. 16th, 2011 07:17 amAtlanta, Georgia. July 8th, 2014.
Chris Sinclair's time at the CDC had been characterized by an almost pathological degree of calm. Even during outbreaks of unknown origin, he remained completely relaxed, calling on his EIS training and his natural tendency to "not sweat the small stuff" in order to keep his head while everyone around him was losing theirs. When asked, he attributed his attitude to growing up in Santa Cruz, California, where the local surf culture taught everyone to chill out already.
Chris Sinclair wasn't chilling out anymore. Chris Sinclair was terrified.
They still had no reliable test for the Kellis cure. Instead of charting the path of the infection, they were falling back on an old EIS trick and charting the absence of infection. Any place where the normal chain of summer colds and flu had been broken, they marked on the maps as a possible outbreak of the Kellis cure. It wasn't a sure-fire method of detection—sometimes people were just healthy, without any genetically engineered virus to explain the reasons why. Still. If only half the people showing up as potential Kellis cure infections were sick...
If only half the people showing up as potential Kellis cure infections were sick with this sickness that wasn't a sickness at all, this stuff was spreading like wildfire, and there was no way they could stop it. If they put out a health advisory recommending people avoid close contact with anyone who looked excessively healthy, they'd have "cure parties" springing up nationwide. If was the only possible result. Before the chicken pox vaccine was commonly available, parents used to have chicken pox parties, choosing sickness now to guarantee health later. They'd do it again. And then, if the Kellis cure had a second stage—something that would have shown up in the human trials Alexander Kellis never had the opportunity to conduct—they would be in for a world of trouble.
Assuming, of course, that they weren't already.
"Still think we shouldn't be too worried about a pandemic that just makes everybody well?"
"Ian." Chris raised his head, giving a half-ashamed shrug as he said, "I didn't hear you come in."
"You were pretty engrossed in those papers. Are those the updated maps of the projected spread?"
"They are." Chris chuckled mirthlessly. "You'll be happy to know that our last North American holdouts have succumbed to the mysterious good health that's been going around. We have infection patterns in Newfoundland and Alaska. In both cases, I was able to find records showing that the pattern manifested shortly after someone from another of the suspected infection zones came to town. It's spreading. If it's not already everywhere in the world, it will be soon."
"Have there been any reported symptoms? Anything that might point to a mutation?" Ian filled his mug from the half-full pot sitting on the department hot plate, grimacing at the taste even as he kept on drinking. It was bitter but strong. That was what he needed to get through this catastrophe.
"I was wondering when you'd get to the bad part."
"There was a good part?"
Chris ignored him, shuffling through the papers on his desk until he found a red folder. Flipping it open, he read, "Sudden increased salivation in the trial subjects for the McKenzie-Beatts TB treatment. That was the one using genetically modified yellow fever? Three deaths in a modified malaria test group. We're still waiting for the last body to arrive, but in the two we have, it looks like their man-made malaria suddenly started attacking their red blood cells. Wiped them out faster than their bone marrow could rebuild them."
"The Kellis cure doesn't play nicely with the other children," observed Ian.
"No, it doesn't." Chris looked up, expression grim. "The rest of these are dealing with subjects from the Colorado cancer trials. The ones that used the live version of the modified Marburg virus. They're expressing the same symptoms as everyone else...but their families are starting to show signs of the Marburg variant. Somehow, interaction with the Kellis cure is teaching it how to spread."
Ian stared at him, coffee forgotten. "Oh, Jesus."
"Not sure he's listening," said Chris. He handed his colleague the folder, and the two of them turned back to their work. They were trying to prevent the inevitable. They both knew that. But that didn't mean they didn't have to try.
***
Effective immediately, all human clinical trials utilizing live strains of genetically modified virus have been suspended. All records and patient lists for these trials must be submitted to the CDC office in Atlanta, Georgia by noon EST on July 10th. Failure to comply may result in federal charges...
When will you Rise?
Chris Sinclair's time at the CDC had been characterized by an almost pathological degree of calm. Even during outbreaks of unknown origin, he remained completely relaxed, calling on his EIS training and his natural tendency to "not sweat the small stuff" in order to keep his head while everyone around him was losing theirs. When asked, he attributed his attitude to growing up in Santa Cruz, California, where the local surf culture taught everyone to chill out already.
Chris Sinclair wasn't chilling out anymore. Chris Sinclair was terrified.
They still had no reliable test for the Kellis cure. Instead of charting the path of the infection, they were falling back on an old EIS trick and charting the absence of infection. Any place where the normal chain of summer colds and flu had been broken, they marked on the maps as a possible outbreak of the Kellis cure. It wasn't a sure-fire method of detection—sometimes people were just healthy, without any genetically engineered virus to explain the reasons why. Still. If only half the people showing up as potential Kellis cure infections were sick...
If only half the people showing up as potential Kellis cure infections were sick with this sickness that wasn't a sickness at all, this stuff was spreading like wildfire, and there was no way they could stop it. If they put out a health advisory recommending people avoid close contact with anyone who looked excessively healthy, they'd have "cure parties" springing up nationwide. If was the only possible result. Before the chicken pox vaccine was commonly available, parents used to have chicken pox parties, choosing sickness now to guarantee health later. They'd do it again. And then, if the Kellis cure had a second stage—something that would have shown up in the human trials Alexander Kellis never had the opportunity to conduct—they would be in for a world of trouble.
Assuming, of course, that they weren't already.
"Still think we shouldn't be too worried about a pandemic that just makes everybody well?"
"Ian." Chris raised his head, giving a half-ashamed shrug as he said, "I didn't hear you come in."
"You were pretty engrossed in those papers. Are those the updated maps of the projected spread?"
"They are." Chris chuckled mirthlessly. "You'll be happy to know that our last North American holdouts have succumbed to the mysterious good health that's been going around. We have infection patterns in Newfoundland and Alaska. In both cases, I was able to find records showing that the pattern manifested shortly after someone from another of the suspected infection zones came to town. It's spreading. If it's not already everywhere in the world, it will be soon."
"Have there been any reported symptoms? Anything that might point to a mutation?" Ian filled his mug from the half-full pot sitting on the department hot plate, grimacing at the taste even as he kept on drinking. It was bitter but strong. That was what he needed to get through this catastrophe.
"I was wondering when you'd get to the bad part."
"There was a good part?"
Chris ignored him, shuffling through the papers on his desk until he found a red folder. Flipping it open, he read, "Sudden increased salivation in the trial subjects for the McKenzie-Beatts TB treatment. That was the one using genetically modified yellow fever? Three deaths in a modified malaria test group. We're still waiting for the last body to arrive, but in the two we have, it looks like their man-made malaria suddenly started attacking their red blood cells. Wiped them out faster than their bone marrow could rebuild them."
"The Kellis cure doesn't play nicely with the other children," observed Ian.
"No, it doesn't." Chris looked up, expression grim. "The rest of these are dealing with subjects from the Colorado cancer trials. The ones that used the live version of the modified Marburg virus. They're expressing the same symptoms as everyone else...but their families are starting to show signs of the Marburg variant. Somehow, interaction with the Kellis cure is teaching it how to spread."
Ian stared at him, coffee forgotten. "Oh, Jesus."
"Not sure he's listening," said Chris. He handed his colleague the folder, and the two of them turned back to their work. They were trying to prevent the inevitable. They both knew that. But that didn't mean they didn't have to try.
***
Effective immediately, all human clinical trials utilizing live strains of genetically modified virus have been suspended. All records and patient lists for these trials must be submitted to the CDC office in Atlanta, Georgia by noon EST on July 10th. Failure to comply may result in federal charges...
When will you Rise?
