The Nirvana Plague (17 page)

She bit her tongue. A lead like that was almost impossible to let go. But, mastering herself, she said: “About what?”

“About this quarter, Karen. About your students. About getting them the class time they paid for. You know how understaffed we already are, budgets the way
they
are.”

“Hm,” she hummed sympathetically.

“Well?”

“Let’s just say this week is a dead loss.”

“Well, yes. But what about next week?”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”

There was a pause while Hauk thought. “And what if we can’t cross that bridge when we come to it?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out, Dr. Hauk. That’s why you get the big money, right?”

Another pause. The guy was not quick on his feet.

“I’ll expect to meet with you in person on Monday,” he said. And added, “In my office.”

It was 9:00 p.m. local time when the four helicopters lifted off the carrier deck and headed north. They flew dark. In the belly of one, Benford’s team sat on benches either side the central aisle, blindly facing each other in the darkness. They had been issued helmets — full-face comm-equipped battle helmets. The noise-canceling technology of the high-tech helmets made the helicopter disturbingly quiet.

But suddenly, half an hour into the flight, a voice barked in Marley’s ear and he jumped.

“Keep your seatbelts on, folks.” It was their pilot on comm. “We’re just crossing the Topic of Cancer. We’re going to be over land in a couple of minutes. Pakistani government restricts us to flying only over the river. That way they can claim they don’t allow the US military to fly over their
land
.”

Benford had seen Marley jump, and said, on comm:

“You can adjust the volume by voice command. Just say ‘control’ and ‘mode,’ then ‘volume down’ or ‘volume up.’ Control commands are not broadcast. Say ‘control, help’ for other commands.”

“Wired for sound,” the pilot said.

“You also have night vision. Just say ‘control, night vision.’”

“What if the helmet computer gets zapped, colonel?” Peters asked.

The pilot answered for her: “Then you can kiss your brains goodbye, pal.”

“Knock it off,” Benford snapped.

“Sorry, sir.”

They dropped altitude as they closed on the shore, and in the darkness shot low and fast up the muddy mouths of the Indus. The aircraft held formation as they swung back and forth along the main channel of the great river.

Delacourt flipped her visor up and tapped Marley on the shoulder. “Turn on night vision and look out.”

The two of them looked out through adjacent ports. A phosphorescent green world flashed past, close below them, blurred by speed. A tree was a mottle of green shades; a building was a rectangular block of green; a road was a thick line between dull green fields with bright cow-shaped blobs standing in them; an idle truck had a smoldering nose: each thing barely glimpsed, vaguely formed, rapidly smearing into the next thing.

The cold mountains rose up in the night ahead of them. The helicopters started taking on altitude. They broke from the main course of the river and shot up one of the Indus’ many tributaries. Steep valley walls narrowed in on them. Fields gave way to mountain pastures. Dots of cool green light lay in scattered flocks across the slopes.

Four hours out from the carrier, the pilot announced they were at their destination. The two helicopters slid through a hard turn, spilling velocity. Marley glimpsed a floodlit landing zone blazing in the darkness. They spun, nosed up, and dropped into it like shot birds into a pond. One of the crew slid open the cabin door, and they jumped out onto the makeshift tarmac.

For a moment they could see nothing. Floodlights ignited the clouds of dust kicked up by the rotors into a brilliant blinding fog.

Marley pulled his helmet off. He felt dizzy. “What time is it?”

Benford flicked the time zone selector on her watch.

“Nearly midnight,” Benford said. “1400 in Washington.”

Someone appeared out of the haze and put his hand out to Benford.

“Colonel Benford? I’m the CO. Colonel Reiser.”

The floodlights suddenly snapped off. The blinding white fog was replaced with a blinding darkness.

“Received your orders from Washington,” Reiser continued. “Welcome to Alkarbah base. This is Major Roy Estrada, our chief surgeon. He’ll brief you on the bambies.”

She shook hands with Estrada.

“On the what?”

“The cases,” Estrada said. “That’s what we call them. Like deer in the headlights.”

As his eyes adjusted and the rotor blow cleared, Marley saw that the rough tarmac was swarming with people.

Reiser looked fatigued and moved heavily, but Estrada looked like he’d just stepped off a movie set — good-looking, tanned and fit; dark features and a quick manner. “Surgeon” had a necessarily wider range of meaning in a military field hospital than in the average county general, nevertheless Estrada looked every inch the surgical specialist.

They all moved off toward the edge of the field, talking as they went.

“Glad to see you, colonel,” Estrada said. “Why don’t you and your team get settled into your quarters, then meet me at the surgery after breakfast, and I’ll take you to see them.”

“I’d rather get a look at them right away, Major.”

Estrada checked his watch. “Tonight? You guys look a bit fagged out, colonel. Don’t you want to—”

“Time is of the essence, Major.”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Reiser said, as they came to the edge of the field. “Doc’ll take you up to the temple. I’ll get my reinforcements situated. You’re scheduled to fly out at 0800. I’ll talk to you again before then. Doc’ll help you get the bambies ready to evac. I’m not going to tell you your business, colonel, but I’d prefer that you limit their contact with my regular personnel. We’ve already got ten people down. We don’t need to lose any more to this thing.”

“Ten?” Benford said. “We were told seven.”

“Seven last night. An entire patrol team. We had two the night before that. And the first one was the night before that. If we’d got the three out of here two days ago, maybe we wouldn’t have lost seven more.”

“You think they’re catching it from each other?” Marley said.

“Well, they’re catching it from someone.”

Benford and Peters exchanged a look.

Reiser turned back to the field and trotted wearily off toward one of the helicopters unloading its compliment of troops.

“All right,” Estrada said. “Right this way to the temple.”

“Temple?” Benford said.

“You’ll see.”

Immediately outside the landing zone a long row of portable latrines canted at different angles on the stony ground along the road. Hooded low-intensity lamps lit the lane with a dull yellow-brown glow.

“Toilet alley,” Estrada said. “Anybody need the head?”

They waited while two of the aides used the facilities.

“Give us a quick history, Major,” Benford said.

“No significant prior history on any of them,” Estrada said. “We sent out three patrols last night. This group was one of them — Bravo squad. We haven’t got much out of them about what happened exactly. Apparently they started taking fire from somewhere. They ordered a defensive artillery strike, which they received. After that we couldn’t raise them again. Alpha squad was ordered in to try to find what was left of them. They found them all right, walking down the trail back toward camp, no gear — no weapons, no packs, helmets, radio, nothing but the clothes on their backs. Wouldn’t say much about it to Captain Scherr — Alpha squad leader. Just that they were walking back to base. They were gonna be a while doing that because they were about fifty klicks up-valley and over the ridge.”

A Humvee came fishtailing down the rutty lane toward the LZ. Scrambling out of the way, Peters tripped over a tube and went down hard on his backside. Green rubber hoses, corrugated black plastic pipe, and orange electrical wire snaked all through the camp. “Christ!”

“Mind the outdoor plumbing,” Estrada said.

“Help me up, Marley!”

Marley gave him a hand.

Estrada smiled grimly and went on:

“Anyway, Scherr managed to persuade them to follow him to the extraction point, and they choppered them back out at dawn. Never found their gear. Enemy probably picked it up. We lose enough shit to keep their whole fucking army fully equipped. Not that it is an army really. Just a bunch of ragtag guerilla units wandering around the mountains blowing things up. Which they do very well.”

They went on through the camp. The place looked like a squalid shanty town. Grey mud and slime were splattered all over everything. The sharp wind kept up a constant racket against the walls of the tents and bubble-huts.

Two dogs were trying to get the lid off a plastic trashcan. Estrada bent down to pick up a rock. Before his hand touched the ground, the dogs vanished.

“Watch out for the dogs around here,” he said as they walked on. “Mean as hell. Scared of rocks though.”

“I assume you examined them?” Benford said.

“The dogs?” he said. “For what? Rabies?”

“The patients.”

“The bambies?” Estrada was annoyed. “They’re fit as fleas. Their problem isn’t physical.”

“So you did examine them?”

“I gave them a quick look. Nothing wrong with them.”

“Do you have charts on them?” Marley said.

“Charts? Are you kidding me? I’ve got people coming in here in pieces. I don’t have time for psychological bullshit.”

“You said they took fire last night, Major,” Benford said. “Did they sustain injuries?”

“Not a scratch.”

“What about the enemy?”

“No sign of them.”

“Didn’t anybody assess the strike area?”

“Not that I know of. I doubt it. No time.”

Another Humvee came bobsledding down the rutted road. They stumbled out of the way, but the mud splashed far and wide.

“Fucking circus,” Peters grumbled.

Estrada pointed toward a group of larger bubble-huts a little way back off the main road. “Hospital. Medical there. Surgery there. Post-op over there.”

“Which one is the temple?” Benford said.

“We’re coming to it.”

At the far side of the camp, beyond where the main road made its first switchback, stood a ruined temple within a perimeter of crumbling stone walls.

“And this,” Estrada said, “is the petting zoo. Oh, I mean,
field psychiatric treatment facility
.”

Estrada led them through a blast gap in the wall that served for a gate into the outer courtyard. A single lamp lit the court, and a single guard sat on a camp chair under it, headphones on his ears, nodding his head to the music. He glanced at them sleepily.

On the far side of the lamp glow, the half-ruined temple stood in shadows. In the dull light, they could see the outline of a broken spire over the center of the temple, but most of the main roof was gone. Two wings extended on either side of the center structure. Through the arched doorway, they could see vaguely into the main hall, dimly lit by another lamp within.

“CO ordered them separated from the regular population,” Estrada said. “Anyway, rest of the troops are afraid of them. You’re taking them out of here in the morning, right?”

“Are
you
afraid of them?” Marley said.

Estrada looked at him, surprised, but didn’t answer. Turning back to Benford, he gestured toward the open doorway. “They’re in there.”

Benford turned to Estrada. “Are there any more lights in there?”

“No.”

“What about heaters? It’s cold as hell.”

“They haven’t asked for anything.”

She turned to one of the other aides.

“Find some cable and some lights and get this place wired up. Anybody gives you anything less than full cooperation you put them on comm with me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Estrada gave her a look.

“My orders instruct your CO to provide full support to this investigation,” she said.

“Uh-huh.”

She turned to the civilians. “All right. Pay attention to your first impressions. You know these people are not profoundly dysfunctional. What’s different about them is subtle. You’ll feel it more than see it. Questions? — All right, let’s go. Major, since you know these people, you take the lead.”