Repairman Jack [05]-Hosts (43 page)

"That's what I'd like to know. Because…" With knitted brows Kate stopped and turned her head, as if listening.

"Something wrong?"

"The pressure just let up."

"What pressure?"

"The pressure to silence me… it's gone." Her eyes widened. "The Unity wants the answer too. You beat the virus, Jack."

"How do you know it wasn't some other virus I picked up—a summer flu or the like?"

"Oh, the Unity knows, Jack. Believe me, it knows. And it's afraid of you. You're a wild card, an aberration, an unexpected glitch in their master plan. Maybe you shouldn't say anything."

"Listen, we're related, so if I've got something inside me that can fight this, maybe you do too. You want to test my blood, it's yours."

"I don't have the equipment or the knowledge, but NIH and CDC do—you'll be invaluable to them. But the
why
still remains. Immune systems react to invading substances like viruses and attack them. It's a 'me' / 'not-me' reaction. Anything classified as 'not-me' must go."

"I like that."

"Sometimes it can overreact to innocent things like pollen, resulting in allergies, but the basic xenophobic protocol never changes. Viruses like HIV get past by invading the immune cells themselves, eventually destroying them; but this is ultimately bad for the virus since it then leaves the host open to every infectious organism that comes along. The Unity virus has a more practical approach: co-opt the immune system and leave it intact to function against everything but the Unity virus. That's what it did to me."

Jack squeezed his eyes shut. Aw, Kate. I can't stand this.

He said, "Why not me then?"

"I can't say. I can only guess that sometime in the past your immune system has battled something similar to, but not exactly like, the Unity virus."

"Why do you qualify it?"

"Because if you'd fought off something exactly like it before, you'd be fully immune and your system would have wiped out the virus as soon as it entered. Remember when you had chickenpox as a kid? The infection left you with permanent immunity: cellular guns loaded with varicella-seeking bullets. Should you get too close to a poxy kid and pick up some of the varicella virus, it's gobbled up the instant it hits your bloodstream, without your having an inkling it was there at all."

"But I got sick as a dog, so that means my guns were not loaded for the Unity virus."

"Right. But unlike my immune system, yours got put on alert by something about the Unity virus. My guess is a minor antigenic similarity. Maybe because of a previous infection, it recognized just one or two base sequences in its protein coat; whatever it was was enough to trigger an immune response, and your T-cells declared war."

Love those T-cells, Jack thought, but why should mine be special?

"The thing is, Kate, I'm almost never sick. I don't even get the usual infections, let alone special ones."

"Gia told me you were terribly ill last summer—just as sick as you were yesterday."

"Oh, that. That wasn't a bug I caught, that was from some infected wounds."

"Wounds?" Kate's brow furrowed. "Who wounded you?"

Jack was about to say, Not who—
what
, when it all came together, whipping his head around like a backhanded bitchslap.

"Holy shit!"

"What?"

How could he tell her about the creatures that had almost killed him last August, about how the gouges one of them had torn across his chest became infected, leaving him fevered up for days after? If some contaminant from those things had primed his immune system, allowing it to recognize the Unity virus, then that meant the virus was linked to them.

Was the same power responsible for those creatures also behind the virus? Was that what was going on here? He needed more information but didn't know where to find it.

"Jack, what's wrong?"

Could he tell her? Nope. His story was even more fantastic than hers. Sound like he was playing
Can You Top This
? And how could he explain what he didn't understand himself? All he knew was that they were dealing with pure evil.

Used to be Jack didn't believe in evil as an entity. But he'd come to know it was out there—no belief necessary, he'd experienced it—and very real, very hungry.

He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes but it didn't slow his spinning mind. Couldn't worry about the big picture now. Had to stay focused on Kate and what was infecting her.

"Just a splitting headache," he lied.

"You were going to tell me about some wounds."

"There were nothing special."

"You don't know that. Something—"

"Please, Kate, we can worry about that later—"

"But I'm worried about it
now
, Jack!" she said and he saw tears filling her eyes. "I don't want to die."

"You're not going to die."

"Yes, I am! What's me, who I am…" She tapped her right temple as the tears spilled down her cheeks. "I'm dying in there, being eaten alive neuron by neuron. Soon I'll be gone, Jack, and I don't want to go. I've got too much left to do!"

Kate seemed to shrink, looking more like a frightened little girl than a professional and mother of two, and Jack's heart broke for her.

He struggled from the recliner. The effort, along with the change in position, made the room spin but he clenched his teeth and held on.

He dropped to his knees before his sister and put his arms around her, enfolding her in his blanket. She was trembling like a wounded thing.

He whispered in her ear. "I swear to you, Kate, that's not going to happen. I won't allow it."

"You don't know that. You can't say that."

"Yes, I can."

A cold resolve had taken shape within him, and Jack knew now what he had to do.

He waited till she'd composed herself, then sat back on his haunches, looking up at her.

"First we need to gather our facts. How many people in this Unity now—not including you?"

"Eight."

"Do you know their names and where they live?"

"No, I—" And then she stopped and cocked her head again. "I'll be darned. I do know."

"Great. Write them down and—"

"Why?" she said sharply. "So you can track them down and shoot them?"

Her words rocked him. "What makes you think I'd do something like that?"

"I found your guns, Jack."

Damn.

"That doesn't mean I'm planning to go out and shoot them."

But that was what was running through his head. Jack rarely believed in following the shortest course between two points, but with Kate at risk, the rules changed. He figured with Holdstock and the others dead there'd be no ubermind to control her. As the only surviving infected brain, Kate could remain Kate.

He hoped.

"Don't lie to me, Jack. And I don't know how you can even consider such a thing. They're not evil."

"Tell that to Fielding."

"The aggregate, yes—it's ruthless and will do anything to protect itself, but the individuals are innocent. They didn't ask to be infected. You heard Jeanette before she became fully integrated—she was terrified, pleading for help we couldn't give her. I'm sure they all felt that way but couldn't tell anyone. You can't kill innocent people, Jack."

Oh, yes, Kate, he thought, in this case I can. They threaten your existence. A choice between eight of them and one of you is no choice at all.

"Are you worried about them all, or just one?"

"Maybe I'm especially worried for Jeanette—I've lost her and I want her back. And I know her well enough to know she'd rather be dead than exist as she is now. But think, Jack: What if CDC or NIH test the virus and discover what to do? Jeanette and Holdstock and the rest can all be returned to their former selves. But not if they're dead. Could you live with that on your conscience, Jack?"

"One hell of a what-if, don't you think?"

"Maybe. But I know this, Jack: If you do something awful to them I will never speak to you again."

And if I don't, he thought with a deep pang of worry, you might never speak to me again anyway… because you'll be gone.

But to save her and then face her loathing…

At least she was sounding more like herself. She'd regained her composure, and the moral authority of an older sister.

Jack sighed. Might as well temporize. As if he had a choice. He was in no condition now to take any sort of action. In fact, just walking himself back to his bed would be an accomplishment. He'd need a day, maybe two to get his legs back. Question was, What could he do in the meantime?

"All right," he said. "I promise, nothing 'awful,' okay? But I've got to do something."

"Leave that to NIH and CDC."

Yeah, right.

"Holdstock seems to be the leader," he said. "Maybe—"

"You have to understand, Jack, there is no leader. That's why it calls itself the Unity—it's one mind and… oh dear, I just realized something. I had a dream shortly after I was infected, a landscape of coins with only the tail sides showing."

"Reverse—the head is the obverse side, the tail is the reverse." He stopped as he noticed her staring at him. "I know coins."

"Okay, only reverse sides showing, so that everywhere I looked I saw 'e pluribus unum'."

"'One from many'."

"Yes. I guess something in me knew what was happening even then."

"Back to Holdstock: you say he's not the leader, but he is the one who killed Fielding."

"His body was
sent
to kill Fielding. He had no say. He's an appendage, a tentacle on an octopus."

"Okay." He held up his hands, palms out. "You've made your point. What I want to know is why him?"

Kate opened her mouth, then closed it. She bared her teeth as if in pain.

"Kate! Are you all right?"

"The Unity… doesn't want me… tell you about this."

"What can I do?"

Jack held back a roar of frustration, wanting to grab and throttle whatever was mauling Kate's mind. But how do you tackle something you can't see?

"Because physically he's the largest member," she blurted, then gasped before continuing. "I've got it now."

"You're sure?"

She nodded jerkily. "Yes. They needed a body with the strength to overpower Fielding, and Holdstock was it."

"Why not just shoot him or stab him?"

"The idea was to leave as little evidence as possible. No noise, no bullet, no weapon, no bloodstains. Arrive, strangle him, leave, dispose of the electrical cord and wooden handles in separate locations on the way home."

"They told you all this?"

Kate shook her head, her expression bleak. "No. They didn't have to. I just… know."

Good plan… simple… grimly efficient. If the target knows you and doesn't fear you, it's perfect.

"Holdstock didn't touch anything?"

"No. Fielding opened the doors for him going in and he put on a glove going out."

"Think carefully, Kate. He touched
nothing?''''

"It all happened so quickly, I don't—wait." She winced and closed her eyes for a few seconds, then spoke through her teeth. "When he rose from the floor after the struggle with Fielding, he used the dining room table for support."

"Touched it with his bare hand, not his forearm or his elbow?"

"Put his hand flat on the tabletop—I'm sure."

"Well, well, well," Jack said.

A whole handprint, fingers and palm. Beautiful.

"Can you use that?"

"Can't say just yet." Telling Kate would be telling the Unity.

Jack couldn't guarantee that his newly conceived scheme would work but, short of executing eight people, it was all he had right now. Holdstock might not be the leader, but his murdering Fielding made him vulnerable. If Jack couldn't eliminate the Unity, maybe he could distract it, and maybe that would buy Kate time.

"Can I ask you, Jack," Kate said, her face grave as she stared at him, "why you have so many guns?"

"Because I can. Because I want to. Because they expand my comfort zone."

"You're not one of those NRA gun nuts, are you?"

"No." He smiled. "Those are citizens."

"I hate guns. Ron bought one back when we were still together. He said he hated them too but he figured some day he might not be allowed to buy one, so…" She shrugged.

"Smart man. I don't pretend to know the answers, Kate. I'm not in the business of solving society's problems, but trying to control violence by disarming potential victims strikes me as whacked-out insane."

"Is this some sort of Second Amendment thing with you?"

Almost laughed. "Not likely. Amendments, Second or otherwise, don't apply much to me. If it's any sort of 'thing,' Kate, it's a bad-guy/ good-guy thing. As long as there's bad guys out there ready to stab, rape, shoot, bludgeon, and torture to get what they want, then their potential victims need a decisive way to respond. Guns weren't called 'equalizers' for nothing. The frailest woman with a gun in her hand is a match for any rapist."