Taji's Syndrome (33 page)

Jeff thought for a couple of miles. “All right; I’ll check the kids out myself.”

For the first time since they left the hospital, Dale’s expression lightened. “Thanks.”

—Weyman Muggridge and Edgar Haliburton—

Propped up against the pillows in an isolation tent, Edgar Haliburton looked dreadfully thin and pale. He tried to raise his arm in greeting as Weyman came through the door of his room, but he was not able to. “Doctor Muggridge.”

“Doctor Haliburton.” Weyman came and stood beside the bed. “They tell me you’ve signed a Public Benefit contract.”

“They’re trying a new combination of antibiotics on me right now. I don’t think it’s doing much good, but it has reduced the secondary infection risks.” He indicated the chair near his bed. “Sit down. I appreciate your coming.”

“Well, your request came the same day the names of some of your patients cropped up. I thought it was worth seeing you.” Weyman straddled the chair, his arms laid over the back and his chin resting on them.

“Patients?”

“The Grey family.”

“Oh, Yes. Marilee and then Jared. A terrible thing. It was the first time I saw TS. I didn’t know what to make of it.” His old eyes, once flinty, were now distant and ill-focused. “I couldn’t have anticipated the danger, the potential, could I?”

“None of the rest of us did,” Weyman pointed out.

“Not that that’s an excuse. There were plenty of warnings, but we weren’t seeing them.” He levered himself a little higher on the pillows.

“Twenty-twenty hindsight,” Weyman agreed. “About the Greys?”

“A terrible thing for that family. There was trouble not long ago with her former husband, and they were starting to put their lives in order from that. When the daughter died, they were able to get through it, but then when the boy came down with TS as well, the strain was almost too much. For a while I wasn’t sure they’d be able to stay together. I thought it would be too demanding, and have too many tragic memories.” He stopped, breathing hard.

“Take your time, Doctor Haliburton.” Weyman hoped that his tape recorder was picking up all of his remarks. He did not want to rush Haliburton, for he was sure that that way some minuscule but vital piece of information might be overlooked.

“I don’t have a lot of that to spare,” said Haliburton. “And I’d feel better if you’d call me Edgar.”

“Anything you like,” said Weyman, softening to the other man. “In your letter, you say that you think that there were not one but two separate outbreaks of TS in Southern California. You believe that the outbreak in the San Fernando Valley was not the same as the one in San Diego. Can you tell me why you think this?”

“Well, hell,” said Haliburton. “Geography, for one thing. It’s not like San Diego’s Covina. Or even Ventura, for that matter. They are over a hundred miles apart. What confused everything was the outbreak in the Immigration Compound. It was assumed that there were Illegals carrying TS coming into Southern California and spreading the disease. And I think that’s bullshit.”

“For an environmental disease, I’d have to agree.”

“I also think that the environmental disease notion is at least half bullshit.” Haliburton folded his hands. “I want to go on record saying that I am convinced that the San Diego outbreak and the San Fernando Valley outbreak are two different sites with two different triggers.” He stopped to cough. “I think you have to—” This time he could not make himself continue.

“Edgar?” Weyman ventured when Haliburton stopped coughing.

“Look,” he said when he had adjusted himself on the pillow, “this Illegals notion is ridiculous. I’ve outlined this in my report. The assumption that Illegals were carrying some kind of triggering infection is absurd: if it was right, then half of Laurie Grey’s Girl Scout troop ought to have come down with it before anyone.”

“What do you mean?” Weyman demanded, suddenly tense.

“Last September, Laurie Grey’s troop did volunteer work at the Immigration compound—you know the sort of thing, making sure the food boxes get distributed, holding children while parents are being examined by the docs, helping out with the ones who are upset—and they were okay. If the lllegals were carrying it, all the girls should have come down with it. As it was, Laurie’s family had it, but not Laurie, and she was the one who was exposed. And for a while TS was confined to one neighborhood. That’s why I say the San Fernando Valley site isn’t related. If it really is toxins, that’s another matter, but you’ll pardon me if I say that it doesn’t look that way.” His voice had been growing fainter and fainter so that at the last it was barely more than a whisper.

“Doctor Haliburton?” Weyman said, starting to get up.

“Not yet; I’m still here,” said Haliburton. “I’ve been thinking about this. I haven’t had anything much else to do except the two-hour check. I can’t reconcile what I’ve learned with what’s been assumed.” He stopped, closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. “I go along with the environmental trigger. I read what your office released last week. That makes sense. But the rest of it doesn’t jibe with what I’ve found out.”

“Go on,” said Weyman, now very much interested in what he had to say. “Tell me as much as you can.”

This time Haliburton took a little while to prepare himself. “From what I’ve read, this stuff is starting to spread, and that certainly eliminates the contamination theory, unless you have something so powerful that it can be carried in some way, such as on clothes. But if that’s the case, it doesn’t make sense that no kids under twelve get it.” He looked over at the clock on the wall. “They’re going to be in shortly; can we wait until they finish with me?”

“If you like; sure.” Weyman stood up. “I’m grateful, Edgar. I want you to know that.”

“Kind of you,” said Haliburton, shifting again, trying to make the pillows more comfortable. “I wish I could have one of those fancy water beds they have in the physical therapy department. My skin’s becoming supersensitive and I can’t find a position that’s comfortable for very long.”

“I’ll be back in half an hour—is that—”

“Just about right,” said Haliburton. “I’m looking forward to it, Doctor Muggridge.”

As Weyman stepped out of the room, he saw three nurses coming toward the room. On impulse, he stopped them. “How’s he doing? Not what it says on his chart; what you know as his nurse.”

“I don’t know,” said the oldest nurse. “I only got his case yesterday. We’ve got nine nurses on this floor alone out with TS. You know what that means. We’re trying to get help from areas where they don’t have much TS, but not many nurses are willing to come.” She made a point of looking at her watch. “We’re on a tight schedule, Doctor Muggridge.”

“I’ll let you get on with it,” he said, taking the unsubtle hint.

The nurses were almost through the door when the oldest turned back to Weyman. “I’ll let you know what I think when we’re through. Stop by the station before you go; I’ll talk to you then. It might not be very reliable.”

“Thank you,” Weyman said sincerely, surprised at her change of heart. He went down the hall toward the floor monitor station, and on impulse, asked to borrow the phone.

On the third try, he found Sylvia at the hospital at the Naval Air Station. “What’s wrong?” she asked when she heard Weyman’s voice.

“Nothing as bad as you’re thinking,” Weyman answered. “But I’ve been talking to Edgar Haliburton, and he’s got me to asking a few new questions. I think he’s on to something. He thinks we’ve got TS back to front. I want to go over the records again, the way Jeff suggested we do, looking at the first cases. I might have a lead on this TS stuff and I want to check it out.”

“What is it?” she asked, calmer and more curious. “Damned if I know yet. There’s something I’m not seeing, but it’s there. It’s as if I’m an out-of-focus lens.” He slapped his thigh with aggravation. “I hate getting like this.”

“But you’re okay?” She made no attempt to hide her anxiety. “Weyman?”

“Sure. What about you?” He was gently teasing.

“It’s this place, all the military. You know me and uniforms. Half the time I want to jump out of my skin. And Tolliver is being so damned polite and soft-spoken that I keep thinking he has thumbscrews in his pocket.”

“He doesn’t,” said Weyman, wondering for the first time if Commander Maurice Tolliver might be concealing something worse.

“That’s what you think. It’s always a bad sign when they’re nice to you,” she countered. “Does this mean you want to cancel dinner tonight?”

“It means I think we better pick up something to eat and get back to the PHES complex. I want to get on the Atlanta records and that’s the best place to do it. Probably the best time, as well.” He could feel the frustration building in him and he began to hope that Edgar Haliburton would provide the key to this deadly puzzle.

“Weyman, I’ve got to get back. I don’t like to—” She sounded embarrassed and he immediately felt sympathy for her.

“No problem. Do you mind keeping me company tonight?”

“Fine. I’d like that.” She hesitated. “You sound a little tense.”

“That’s good—I’m a lot tense,” he answered, going on quickly, “It hasn’t anything to do with you. I’ll see you later. Good luck with the brass.”

“I’ll need it,” she said uncertainly.

“You’ll do fine.” He smiled at the receiver, hoping she could sense it.

“Thanks. See you later.” “Later,” he agreed, and hung up.

It was forty-five minutes later when he was allowed back in Edgar Haliburton’s room. There was some new equipment beside his bed and his isolation tent had been changed so that now he appeared to be wrapped in an enormous cocoon.

“How are you feeling?” Weyman asked. He could see that Haliburton’s face was ashen and drawn, but he did not want to give any indication of alarm.

“Like the hind end of a bear,” said Haliburton. “Don’t worry about it; it’ll change soon enough. They’ve given me something, one of those stabilizers they used to give AIDS patients. I’ll cope.”

“If you’d rather postpone this?” Weyman said, praying that Haliburton would not.

“Chances are I’ll be worse tomorrow. Let’s get on with it,” he said testily. “Ask away.”

“You were telling me about the Greys. That’s the name, isn’t it?” Weyman came back to the chair and sat down.

“Yeah. Jonathon and Catherine Grey, four kids, three from his first marriage, and Laurie between them. She’s a dancer.” He stared at the ceiling. “You know, when the quake struck, I was in a clinic and the lighting fixture fell. It hit my shoulder. Hurt like hell. But if it had hit my head it probably would have killed me.”

Weyman kept silent. He adjusted the volume on his tape recorder and watched Haliburton, part of his attention still wrestling with the questions that were half-formed in his mind.

“I think the hardest thing about dying is having to give up so much. Not life, not life. But things like my two cats and the neighbor’s kids and Hunan food and my favorite loafers and letters from my cousins and walks on the beach and sleeping close together after sex. I’m not through with any of those things yet.” He botched a chuckle. “So tell me. What can I do for you while I’m still here?”

“What you were saying about Laurie Grey and her Girl Scout troop. You said they did community service work with Immigration last September.” He sensed that this was the right place to begin.

“They did. And TS started showing up a little later, mostly among those with other health problems, things like poor nutrition and intestinal parasites. You know the kind of things Immigration handles.” He rubbed his chin. “They gave me a lousy shave this morning. They won’t let me do it myself. Stupid precaution, if you ask me.”

“Perhaps the Girl Scouts weren’t exposed,” Weyman suggested.

“Maybe, but I doubt it. That stuff seems to have a pretty long incubation period, and that means that it was probably present when the Girl Scouts were there, if it was there at all.”

“What about the other way around? What if the Girl Scouts had the trigger and the people in the Immigration Compound got it from them?” said Weyman, expecting Haliburton to dismiss the idea as ridiculous.

“Could be,” said Haliburton. “Look what happened with the Greys. And more than half the girls in the troop have TS now. It’s one possibility.” He turned and looked directly at Weyman. “If I were you I’d run a full series of tests on every girl in that troop, and their families as well. I don’t know what I’d expect to find, but I’m convinced I’d find something.”

“Sounds promising,” said Weyman sincerely. “I’ll keep you posted.”

“Thanks,” said Haliburton with real gratitude.

“Any time.” He knew he ought to leave but Haliburton was reluctant to let him go.

“That’s one of the things I hate about being a patient—suddenly everyone treats you like a deaf six-year-old. They do things to you and won’t say why, they won’t tell you what they’re finding out, and the nurses behave like nannies half the time and drill sergeants the other half. I know I was as bad as any of ’em. I used to tell myself I was more understanding and informative, but I was kidding myself.”

“Are you sure? Could be you’re being too hard on yourself.” Weyman rose and came to the side of the bed.

“I’d like to believe you, but my memory’s too good for that.” He started to lift his hand again then let it drop back. “Let me know about the Girl Scouts.”

“Yes. I will.” He left the room and went to the nurses’ station. He was somewhat surprised to find the nurse he had spoken with waiting for him.

“Doctor Haliburton’s a spartan—he’d let that fox eat his guts out and not make a sound,” she said. “But TS has its hooks in him all the way. His fever’s been hitting one hundred four since Monday and there isn’t anything we’ve found that can control it.”

“What about blood chemistry?” Weyman asked.

“Same as all of them. It’s coming apart. I’ll be surprised and sad if he lasts another ten days.” She read his face well. “Yeah, sad. He’s miserable and it’s going to get worse. I’m sad that he’s suffering.”

Weyman nodded. “I know what you mean.”

“I’m glad he’s doing Public Benefit because it makes it a little less futile. For him. And that’s what counts.” She looked up as a light came on the display panel. “Gotta run. I’ll give you a call if there’s any change. I can reach you at PHES, can’t I?”