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any demands."
Beth nodded at Jake. "Dr. Chesterton," she said quietly. "What's that?" asked
the doctor. "Nothing."
Jake asked him, "What about a cure?"
"So far nothing we've tried works," answered Dr. Goedewaagen. of yesterday
there have been forty-seven deaths throughout the and no patient has shown any
sign of improvement. If we can
8 I
identify the virus--we suspect it may be something that was originally
developed in a government lab somewhere--then we may be able to determine the
antidote. We, naturally, have queries out to various government agencies,
asking for help. Otherwise .. ." "Can't you develop a cure on your own?"
"The whole idea of a synthetic virus, Miss Kittridge--the reason they were
developed to use as weapons--is that the enemy you use them against won't be
able to come up with a quick cure. These are planned diseases, designed to
outwit researchers. Given enough time, weeks at least, we can, almost
certainly, come up with something."
"But how long do the victims live?" asked Jake.
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"It varies with the patient," answered the doctor. "X, Ve've had some who
managed to survive for only two or three days. In the ease of your wife, Mr.
Cardigan--where the patient is relatively young and healthy--we anticipate she
will live for as long as ten days or two weeks. Keep in mind, though, that we
haven't had much experience with this and our calculations may be off." He
shrugged, leaning back in his chair.
"You mentioned that this was highly contagious," said Jake. "What about my
son's catching it?"
"I'm glad you brought that up," Dr. Goedewaagcn said. "We've just decided--in
fact I was called away from that staff meeting to come here--we've decided
that anyone who's had prolonged contact with a plague victim ought to be kept
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here in our Observation Wing. That way we can monitor them."
"You used the word plague," said Beth. "Is that what this is?" "An epidemic, a
plague, I'd say so. The nnmber of victims has kept increasing. In a few more
days, perhaps sooner, we won't be able to keep this a secret and panic will be
added to the other problems. The media are already starting to ask questions."
"You'd like my son to stay here then?"
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"We can't legally require that, not at this stage of the situation.
But I think it would be best."
"Yeah, so do I. I'll talk to Dan." Jake stood up. "And maybe I can find the
antidote to this plague."
"What we need, Mr. Cardigan, is qualified medical experts, not impetuous
private detectives."
Beth said, "I'd bet on Jake if I were you, doctor."
The redhead reached across the narrow table, touching the control pad.
The stripper vanished just as she was removing her final bit of clothing. "I
can tell you how it ends," said the redhaired young woman as she sat,
uninvited, across from Gomez.
Gomez said nothing.
The redhaired intruder continued, "If you know me, which you most certainly
do, Gomez, you're aware I'm no stickler for ceremony. Still and all, however,
I don't believe I'm straying out of line to any great degree, which every
single person I deal with in the course of an average busy day might not agree
with, when I suggest to you that a cordial greeting wouldn't be out of order
under the present circumstances. Here we are, after all, thrown together by
fate, as it were, far from our native planet, hurtling through the vast void
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of--"
"Hi, Natalie, old chum," said Gomez, frowning at her. "Go away.
Smiling, Natalie Dent placed both sharp elbows on the tabletop and stared
intently at him. "I've always harbored the suspicion, ever since I first
encountered you back when you were a hardbitten SoCal state cop and I was a
sweet and innocent, well, anyway sweet, young tube reporter working the police
beat on the Greater Los Angeles
Fax-Times, that you didn't exactly approve of me, which was okay by me, since
my innate shyness does often get mistaken for aloofness and cause certain
sorts of men, especially those who fancy themselves womanizers, don't
approve--"
"Vamos," suggested Gomez, making a go-away motion with one hand.
"Depart, Nat. Take your leave, fold your tent, hit the road."
"Gee, a bilingual brushoff. That's very interesting, Gomez, because it
indicates to me, and I think that I'm perfectly capable of being objective
when the occasion arises to--"
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"Natalie, really now, scram," he urged in a lowered voice. "A
reporter for Newz, Inc." that godawful twenty-four-hour vidwall news service, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]