Immunity Index, Sue Burke [accelerated reader books txt] 📗

I had once done frequently, but this time I came with nothing besides vital knowledge to sell.

“This is the attenuated viral vaccine, which is also from China. We’ve received the same data from several locations, so again, this is the genuine pathogen circulating among the public in the United States.”

Some people shifted in their chairs. I knew that would startle them.

“I want to point out one segment. Here is that segment from the original virus, and here is what we see in the attenuated one, a mere cut-and-paste operation from a different common cold. It’s similar to what our team designed here, and leads to very mild symptoms.”

Heads nodded.

“We did fine work, and the Chinese team did even better work. I want to show you one artifact of their genius.”

Colonel Wilkinson seemed to be thinking about something else and hiding it. He had no doubt heard all this before from Node 1, but the good part was yet to come. Vita leaned forward with curiosity. Tavis sat back, not out of relaxation but out of an unconscious desire to escape, trying to put as much distance as possible between me and him. I felt relieved to see that and have my conclusions confirmed. He knew what was coming.

“Notice that these segments in the delta virus and the vaccine virus are not similar. The vaccine will spread faster for several reasons, and one of them is here. It won’t cause macrophages to present antigens as fast as they might. This virus triggers the immune system, but not too much.”

“And you can see all that,” Tavis said, his chin lowered protectively, anticipating my attack.

“I know where to look, and so do you. If we were going to create a vaccine—and as you know, we did—we agreed that including this would lessen the immune system response. We’d walk around feeling fine, sneezing a little bit and breathing normally, still spewing a sufficient number of viruses left and right. Genius, as I said. Few of us have gotten so much as a headache.”

Tavis again leaned as far back as possible, this time with a glance toward the door.

“Finally,” I said, “here’s the virus that’s killing people. It’s based on the original delta virus but it isn’t the so-called Sino cold. This new segment, the one that causes macrophages to present antigens, causes a much more intense response. That’s what makes this so deadly. The body overreacts with a cytokine storm, and people drop like flies. We know it was artificially introduced, and this shows the means by which it was designed to be virulent.”

Colonel Wilkinson was paying strict attention now. Biological warfare—combating it, that is—had been his career.

“But there’s an amateurish flaw,” I said.

Now Tavis leaned forward.

“All viruses need to reproduce because they want to thrive, if we may anthropomorphize them. This one reproduces deep in the lungs, so the moment the infected person stops breathing, the infection stops spreading. Here’s the oldest sample we have. It has the lethal segment. But here’s a newer one. The virus has dropped that segment. As you can see here, the splices for the virulent additions aren’t solid. It still causes a potentially serious illness, but death is not guaranteed.”

Could they see that? Vita and Professor Wicker nodded, but some of the others looked and took it on faith.

“I apologize for bringing you a report that still requires epidemiological proof, but such good news couldn’t wait. I believe that the deadly strain of the illness is just going to fizzle out, perhaps even without interventions like major quarantines, although that would certainly accelerate the process. People will still get sick with a cough and a cold, and for some people a cold can still lead to very dangerous secondary infections like pneumonia, but the people infected by the new strain will generally survive without intensive care, and they’ll spread the new, milder disease.”

Tavis was drumming his fingers on the table, his eyes staring into space—at an unpleasant future. Other faces relaxed. There was the light of life at the end of the tunnel of death. But Tavis was trapped. I knew enough about salesmanship to wait for him.

“How is that amateurish?” he protested desperately. “Viruses always evolve into different strains. We’re seeing it with our own eyes. Where was the mistake?”

“The mistake,” I said, “was including that segment in the first place. We’ve seen it before—in an early version you proposed. This segment does not occur naturally, but you’d know where it came from.”

After a moment, he said, “What if that was the plan?”

“Limited mass murder as opposed to uncontrolled mass murder? That sounds like an excellent plan.”

Colonel Wilkinson rose to his feet with an expression on his face that could have launched missiles.

Tavis looked around, but not at me. “I can check my notes and figure out where I got that. It wasn’t my design.”

“It was someone’s,” I said with a smile. And then I turned back to my presentation, ignoring the drama of two men walking out, one of them in the custody of the other. The one in custody left wide-eyed, sweating, thinking as fast as he could about lawyers and confession and turning state’s evidence. (Or at least that’s how I wanted to imagine it.)

“As we all understand,” I said, “this has implications for fighting the disease. The lethal cold will quickly become less dangerous. Field observations will establish the speed, but we can predict the eventual outcome. This is great good news that we can spread gladly.”

My vicious smile had become benevolent, and Confucius would have viewed it with approval. A superior man does not practice rancor.

Irene, pacing next to Nimkii’s pen, got a phone call from Ruby.

“Come back to Berry Farm.”

That was the last thing she wanted to do. She tried to think of a way to say no.

“I’ll tell you what to do about Will,” Ruby said. “And you can take the truck and get food for Nimkii. You’d better act now before everything’s in chaos.”

When had she suddenly