The Viral Epiphany (21 page)

Twenty-One

           
It was an unusual meeting that was being held in the White House situation room. Unusual because there were only four high ranking people present; none of the usual assistants and aides had been invited.
 
The subject matter was too sensitive to be discussed, or even heard, except by the heads of the agencies involved.
 
President Cranston sat at the head of the table and glared at each of the others in turn without saying a word. Each of them, General Baker of Project Omega, Dr. Charles Goodfellow of UNAPS, and Dr. Harry Fields of the Centers for Disease Control looked at the other uneasily, almost the way grade school students do when being reprimanded by their teacher.

           
“Look at this,” President Cranston said quietly as he tossed a newspaper onto the table. “You have each failed me.”

           
The headline of the New York Times was printed in letters six inches high:

Asian Fever Strikes New York, Paris, and Rome

           
“There are at least hundreds of people already dead in each of these cities, and this disease is spreading fast. Who knows where it will turn up next?”

           
“Sir,” General Baker said, “begging your pardon, but I don’t see how I, or anyone at Project Omega, could have failed you. This is not our concern.”

           
“General Baker, I know you don’t know how you have failed and that is part of the problem.
 
You are too out of touch.
 
I have heard from the CIA that your people captured and killed a Japanese researcher named Stephen Itagaki.
 
He was the man who was responsible for unleashing this disease on the world.
 
Didn’t you know that?”

           
“No sir, not at the time.
 
However, our agents did retrieve some of the original virus-contaminated material, and that will be great asset to our research.
 
Besides, in the end, Dr. Itagaki only got what he deserved.”

           
The President paused a moment and then said quietly, “Did you also know that he was working on a vaccine for the disease?”

           
“No! I mean no, sir.
 
Uh, how do you know, sir? If you don’t mind my asking.”

           
“He had a female assistant who was arrested by the Japanese police as she was trying to leave the country a while ago.
 
She told them everything.”

           
General Baker thought about this for a few seconds and then said, “Did she give them the information on the vaccine too?”

           
“No, she couldn’t.
 
He held that information very close.
 
Now, thanks to your over zealous men, that information is, no doubt, lost forever.”

           
“Yes, sir. I am sorry. As you know those agents have already been punished severely.”

           
President Cranston nodded, “Yes, I know.”

Then he turned to Dr. Goodfellow, “Charlie, that information you gave me about Caucasians having immunity to this disease was pure crap.”

           
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, I realize that now, but that information didn’t originate with me. That came from a CDC field agent.”

           
“What?” Dr. Fields practically shouted, “My agents would never say such a thing without clear evidence – and there is none to support such a conclusion. Only an idiot would say such a thing!”

           
“Now, now,” the President said, “Calm down. Let’s not point fingers at each other.
 
Charlie, I don’t care where the info came from – you told it to me.
 
Understand?”

           
“Yes, sir.”

           
“Good.
 
Now, Dr. Fields, tell me why doesn’t the CDC have a cure or a vaccine for this disease yet.
 
What the hell are your people doing in Atlanta anyway?”

           
“Sir, I think we are making very good progress. However, these things take time and this disease is new, very new.
 
We’ve never seen anything like it.
 
We need at least a month before we will have anything ready to test.”

           
“A month?” President Cranston said, “That’s a long time, Harry.
 
I don’t know if we have a month.
 
This thing seems to spread very fast. General Baker, have your people been tracking this disease?”

           
“Yes, sir.
 
Of course, sir. That’s part of our job.”
 
Dr. Fields stared at the General intently but said nothing.

           
“Well, what’s your estimate?” the President asked,
 
“Do we have time for the CDC to fool around for another month?”

           
“Sir, if I may say so,” Dr. Fields interrupted, “it will probably take a month for a prototype vaccine, but frankly, I have no idea when a cure might be found.
 
Moreover, even if the vaccine were found to be initially effective it would still need to undergo thorough testing.
 
Then, of course, the vaccine companies would have to start production. Using the standard method of vaccine production that employs eggs as the culture medium, I estimate we will need at least a year before we have significant quantities of vaccine available.
 
Distribution and inoculation of the population would take at least six more months.”

           
“A year and a half from now before people are immunized?” the President asked, “Are you kidding?
 
Do you have any idea how fast this is spreading?”

           
“Yes sir, I do.
 
But that’s the best we can do,” Dr. Fields said softly, avoiding the President’s eyes.

           
“Have you done a propagation analysis yet?” President Cranston said in exasperation as he turned back to General Baker.

           
General Baker took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, “Yes, sir. We have. As you know we have mathematical models for disease propagation.
 
These models take in to account the method of transmission, population density, the coefficient of transmissibility, and other variables.”

           
President Cranston nodded, saying nothing, but his expression indicated that he was not interested in a lecture on the mathematics of disease propagation.

           
“Sir,” General Baker said shifting a little uneasily in his chair, “let me come right to the point. We cannot afford to wait for the CDC to create a vaccine; this disease is just too virulent and as you guessed it is spreading way too fast.”

           
“How fast?”

           
General Baker opened his briefcase and took out a set of papers.
 
“I have some of that here.
 
Of course, we had to make some approximations because we don’t necessarily have a complete set of propagation coefficients. However, there are some general guidelines we use that are valid in most cases.”

           
“Such as?” the President said.

           
“One of the most important is the RMS distance between possible contacts.”

           
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Goodfellow interjected, “could you explain what that means?”

           
“It’s sort of the average separation between people who might contract the disease.
 
For example, in a densely populated city like Shanghai, the RMS distance might be three feet; however, in a place like the Arctic Circle the RMS distance may well be twenty miles.”

           
“I see.”

           
“The greater the RMS distance the lower the probability of the disease spreading.
 
If the RMS distance is great enough and the life expectancy of a disease organism is short enough the disease typically cannot propagate further and it eventually dies out.”

           
“OK,” the President said, “That’s somewhat encouraging, I guess.
 
But I’m not interested in hypothetical situations right now, so just give us the bottom line, OK?
 
What is Omega’s projection?”

           
General Baker looked at the President for a moment before replying.
 
“Yes, sir.
 
Our estimate is the following:” he looked down at the next sheet of paper. “All of the largest cities in the world, that is cities having populations of over ten million people, will be infected within the next week.
 
All cities with populations between one million and ten million people will be infected within the next three weeks.
 
All cities worldwide with populations over one hundred thousand will be infected within three months.
 
All towns with over one thousand people will be infected within six months.
 
So far our data shows that the death rate for people who contract the disease is one hundred percent.”

           
“Is that your entire analysis?” the President asked.

           
“No, sir.
 
The disease appears to remain viable on surfaces far longer than influenza and other viruses.
 
Therefore our computer models indicate that it may not burn itself out.”

           
“It won’t?
 
Ever?” asked Dr. Goodfellow.

           
“It’s a distinct possibility, sir.”

           
“Well, what if it doesn’t? What happens then?” he replied.

           
General Baker looked at each of them before replying, “Eventual extinction.”

           
There was an audible gasp from each of the men. None of them had even considered this.
 
President Cranston closed his eyes for a few moments and shook his head; then he turned to General Baker and said with an air of resignation in his voice, “So that’s it?
 
There’s nothing we can do?”

           
General Baker hesitated for several seconds before replying.
 
“Sir, we do have some contingency plans, but they are really only meant as a last resort.”

           
“You have contingency plans? For something like this?
 
Why would you have plans like that?” asked Dr. Fields.

           
“Never mind,” President Cranston said, “We won’t go there right now.” Then he turned to General Baker. “What do you mean ‘contingency plans’?”

           
“Several years ago we did a study to determine how, or if, we could cope with something, uh, like this. You see, this is sort of like a forest fire.”
 
The President looked at him and squinted a little, but he went on.
 
“If a fire starts in the middle of a forest there are plenty of trees around and it spreads rapidly in all directions.
 
Right?”
 
He looked around and everyone nodded.

           
“One very effective device that firefighters use in these cases is to start a backfire.
 
They set fire to a large area of trees outside the main fire so that when the forest fire gets to that point there is no fuel.
 
See, it’s already burned up. Only charred trees are left and they can’t burn again can they?
 
With no more fuel the forest fire dies.”

           
“Sooo…what are you saying?” Dr. Fields asked.

           
General Baker took out several sets of a document and passed them around the table.
 
Each set was sealed in opaque, red-colored plastic with a cover page attached to the plastic.
 
“Gentlemen, please sign your name on the space indicated and then give the papers to me.
 
After that you can open the plastic covers and have a look at the contingency plan.
 
Please note that this document is classified top secret eyes only; you cannot remove this document from this room and you must never discuss the contents with any person outside this room.”

           
“OK,” Dr. Goodfellow said as he started to pull open the plastic cover.