The Viral Epiphany (42 page)

How many dead?… How many?… Even here, we’ll probably never know.
 
Thirty million?
 
Fifty million? The numbers are staggering. Unfathomable really, but Omega had it wrong didn’t they? They were estimating more like a hundred million or more for us alone.
 
He looked back at the mute portraits of the Presidents for several more seconds, not really knowing what he thought he would see in those distinguished visages. Ratification?
 
Approval? Maybe rejection?
 
He didn’t know. He might as well have been staring at the Mona Lisa.

It was Asia that got the worst of it though.
 
It wasn’t our fault.
 
Maybe Charlie was right; maybe there was some kind of hereditary immunity that we had – at least a little bit anyway. What was the latest estimate from Asia? Over a billion dead? Unbelievable…unbelievable.
 
Their economies must be ruined. Maybe we can make them some loans to get restarted.
 
Maybe we’ll have some of our major corporations team up with them.
 
It’ll help them to redevelop.
 
It’ll probably be good business for us too; we’ll make partnerships, sort of even things out in the global economy.
 
We won’t make the same mistakes again.
 
No, sir.

           
He stood up and walked over to the window and watched the snow fall for a few minutes and then turned back and faced the painting of Franklin Roosevelt.
What would you do?
he thought as he looked at the picture.
What would you do now?
Then he smiled.
 
You’d do the same thing I’m doing, that’s what. Hell, you practically did it when you were President, right?
He stared intently at the oil painting, but all he could see was the frozen expression on Roosevelt’s face.

           
President Cranston turned away and then walked over to the Oval Office door and opened it, chuckling softly to himself.
That General Baker almost had a heart attack when I told him to shut down Labyrinth One. You’d think it was his own personal property or something. Had to do it though.
 
It’s true what I said. That damn stuff is just too dangerous. That’s the problem with chemicals and germs – you can’t control them. This was a real lesson for us, a real lesson. Who the Hell knows what the General’s boys were really doing down there anyway? They probably weren’t even telling me everything.

           
He closed the door to the Oval Office quietly behind him and started walking along the West Colonnade towards the living quarters of the White House.
 
It’s a good thing Grace was with me on that sub.
 
If she hadn’t made me make that call to that fellow in Ireland…well, who knows what would have happened? Clean Sweep? If we had done that, where would we be now? Yes, it was Grace who really changed everything.
 
If she only knew…maybe someday I’ll tell her…Oh, I don’t know. Maybe not…she wouldn’t understand.

           
He entered the main section of the White House, walked to the foot of the stairs and stopped for a moment and looked at the portrait of Harry Truman.
 
You’re the one who went ahead, Harry.
 
You’re the one that really did it Harry, right? I know…I know…Roosevelt, well, he was the one who listened to Einstein, and he gave the go ahead for all the research, but you – you’re the one who actually went ahead and dropped the bomb.

President Cranston began slowly climbing the stairs up to the first floor landing, still recalling the momentous events of the 1940’s.
The Manhattan Project… that’s what they called it. If they could only see Manhattan now…what was it Oppenheimer said when he saw the first atomic test blast in the desert? “I am become Shiva, the destroyer of worlds.” Something like that anyway.
 
Smart guy that Oppenheimer.
 
He must have read a lot.
 
I wonder where he got that line from?

           
President Cranston looked up and down the first floor corridor, but there was no one to be seen.
 
He rounded the corner and started walking upstairs to the second floor living quarters where he knew Grace was waiting for him. Before he made his televised speech she had asked him to consider not running for reelection next year.
 
She had had enough.
 
Maybe she’s right.
 
Maybe I’ve already played my role in the destiny of this great nation.
 
All those Presidents, they all faced crises during their terms, but none worse than this. However, we have overcome.
 
We have prevailed.
 
I’ve earned my place in history, just like they did.
 
Even more.
 
Now I’ve gone ahead and made a fateful decision, a very secret one of course, that will put us on a new course. Who knows where that will lead?
 
There are so many… so many, possibilities now.

           
He reached the second floor landing and walked slowly towards their bedroom.
 
The portraits on the walls of this corridor were of former first ladies.
 
He didn’t recognize any of them as he passed them by.

I didn’t use the bomb, did I? No, it was close though.
 
Very close, but Clean Sweep…no, that won’t be my legacy. Grace was right and that’s what saved me. Maybe she’s right again. Maybe I should step down and let someone else take the reins for a while.
 
Hell, I know I’ll never be the equivalent of Washington or Jefferson, how could I be? They were the founding fathers for God’s sake.
 
Even Lincoln was in a class by himself.
 
No, I can’t compete with them.
 
If anything, the most I can hope for is to sort of be one or the other:
 
either a Roosevelt or a Truman.

He stopped outside their bedroom door and looked down the long hallway and then back the way he came.
 
He wanted to collect his thoughts a bit before he entered.
 
He had to decide whether to tell Grace about the new information he had received only an hour ago.

           
No,
he finally said to himself,
I can’t tell her.
 
Not now anyway.
 
That stuff they’re doing now in Labyrinth Two is incredible.
 
Unbelievable, really.
 
There we were cruising around in the Seawolf and these guys, deep underground in Alaska are making this breakthrough.
 
It’s an amazing capability, just like the bomb was in its day I guess – but this, this is so much more; it’s just unbelievable.

He allowed himself a slight smile.
 
That chem/bio stuff they were doing in Labyrinth One would have become obsolete anyway with this new stuff coming along. Closing Lab One was absolutely the right decision. Hell, it was a no-brainer really.
 
Why should we waste our time and resources on that?

He took a deep breath.
 
I guess, now that I have given the go-ahead with the Lab 2 tests, that I’ve already become sort of like Roosevelt, haven’t I?
 
Maybe that’s my role.
 
But the question really is: should I stay in office and maybe become the next Truman too?

I wonder?
he thought.
 
He opened the door, walked into the bedroom, and smiled at Grace.

Sheila sat by a window in Dan’s apartment and slowly sipped a steaming cup of Barry’s Tea. Rain was falling, a soft mist really, into the dark swirling waters of the
River Lee
. A lone swan drifted slowly by with the flow of the water, while above, light gray clouds with darker gray centers drifted on unseen currents of air.
 
It was past mid-December and she felt herself more and more preoccupied with the approach of the winter solstice
. She would have to make a decision soon.

There was a knock on the door and Dan went to answer it. A minute later he came back into the room carrying a small parcel.

“What is it?” Sheila asked.

Dan held up the FEDEX box so that she could see it.
 
“I have no idea,” he said, but the return address says, The White House, let’s have a look.” He tore the zip strip and pulled out a purple velvet covered folder that had been covered in bubble wrap.
 

           
He slowly took off the plastic wrapping and then opened the velvet folder.
 
Inside was an invitation handwritten in elegant calligraphy, black ink on light beige parchment paper. Dan read the invitation but said nothing for several seconds.

           
“Come on, Dan,” Sheila said. “What does it say?”

           
Dan quietly handed the folder to Sheila and then said, “I don’t think we can do this, Sheila.
 
Maybe Brendan, but not us.” She looked puzzled until she read it herself.

Washington, D.C.

         
President and Mrs. Alan Cranston request the pleasure of your company at a private banquet and conferral of honors on December 21 of this year at The White House.
 
The following people will be presented with the highest honor of the United States:
 
The Order of the Eagle Award for their heroic efforts in the victorious battle against the scourge of Asian Fever,

Dr. Daniel Quinn

Dr. Sheila O’Neill

Mr. Brendan MacDonnell

RSVP Marilyn Swords

Executive Secretary to the President

 
           
“You’re absolutely right, Dan,” she said as she put the folder down on the table, “this is really Brendan’s honor not ours. He was the one who found the vaccine.”

           
“Good.
 
I’m glad we agree; I’d better get this over to Brendan right away. He only has a few more days left if he is going to fly over to Washington.” Dan said picked up the folder and put it in the FEDEX box.

           
“Brendan, will be thrilled, I’m sure.
 
It’s a great honor that he richly deserves – and I’m sure there will be more to come,” Sheila said and then she waited a few moments before she continued.
 
“Dan, maybe this works out very well anyway. I’ve been thinking a lot about visiting a very special place very soon, actually just about that time.
 
It’s a time of change, Dan.
 
I can feel it.
 
You should come with me. Our role in fighting Asian Fever is in the past now.
 
However, I feel there is a lot more for us to do.
 
Want to come along?”

           
Dan grinned at her, “It sounds mysterious.
 
Where are you thinking of going?”

           
Sheila smiled back at him, “Ah now, the exact location is a secret. You can come along if you like, but you’ll only find out exactly where we’re going when you get there!”

           
“OK,” Dan said with a laugh, “you’ve hooked me.
 
When do we go?”

           
Sheila looked out the window, hoping to see a sign that she had made the right decision.
 
She watched the clouds drifting to the east but she recognized no sign.
 
She turned back to him and taking a deep breath said, “We’ll leave in a few days, on the evening before
Mean Geimrech,
the winter solstice.
 
It’s on December twentieth this year.
 
It’s a place no one ever thinks of going anymore, high in the
Slieve Mish
Mountains of County Kerry. “You’d better be well prepared too,” she said as she smiled at him with a slightly seductive look, “we’ll be camping overnight!”

           
They dropped Brendan off at Cork International Airport on the morning of the nineteenth of December, and then Dan and Sheila drove immediately to County Kerry, past the large towns of Killarney and Tralee until they finally came to a beautiful, sparsely populated, and remote part of the rural north coast of the Dingle Peninsula, called by the Irish,
An Doire Mhór.

           
“This is it,” Sheila said as they parked the car well off the roadside in a grove of ash trees. “From here we have to walk - up there,” she pointed to the right of the summit of
Bautregaum
Mountain. Over there, between
Bautregaum
and
Caherconree.
It’s on the east facing slopes of the
Slieve Mish.
It’s a little bit of a hike from here, up and over and down, but it’s the easiest way.
 
We could never find it if we came up the other side from Aughils.”

           
Dan looked upwards at the peak of
Bautregaum
.
 
It looked like a steep climb and he was glad they were not planning to go to the summit.
 
He picked up their backpacks and, putting his on, he handed Sheila hers.
 
“OK, Sheila. You had better lead the way; it looks so overgrown with brush I can’t even see a trail.
 
I would probably get lost within twenty minutes!”

           
Sheila laughed, knowing he was probably right, and began walking straight towards
Bautregaum
for the first
ten minutes until they came to the grass covered remains of an ancient ring fort.
 
“There are seven of these,” she said as she looked up the mountain slope, “they’re thousands of years old and only a few of us know that they mark the way.”

           
“What do mean, ‘mark the way’?” Dan asked, “Where are we going, anyway? And what is the significance of the seven ring forts?
 
I thought that ring forts were just the ancient fortifications and dwelling places of the people who lived in Ireland thousands of years ago.”

           
Sheila turned back and looked at him very seriously.
 
“These ring forts are different from the others.
 
They were a series of fortifications built to protect the access to a special place by people who lived here long before the Celts arrived.” She paused and looked at him, trying to see if he realized the importance of the place they were about to visit.
 
“It’s a very sacred place that we’re going to, Dan. The knowledge of this place is handed down only by word of mouth, in the old Celtic tradition.
 
The information is much too valuable to be put into writing.”

           
“Because the wrong people might learn of the secret?”

           
“Yes. If the knowledge is only spoken to the people we know and trust then our enemies can never learn our truths.”

           
Dan stopped and looked at her, speechless for several seconds.
 
Then he said, “There’s a lot more to you, Sheila, than I had imagined.
 
First you take me on a mysterious camping trip and now you tell me you have secret information that has been handed down…how long?”

           
Sheila smiled at him as she watched the expressions of bewilderment move across his face like clouds that race across the sky. A slight breeze suddenly ruffled his hair and revealed hidden reddish highlights in the bright sunlight.
 
“The secrets are handed down only from mothers to daughters, Dan.
 
There are only a few of the very old families that carry this knowledge.
 
It’s been like that for a very, very long time. Since long before the days of the Vikings and before Saint Patrick walked this land.
 
I don’t know how long, really.
 
Maybe three thousand years, maybe more.
 
No one really knows anymore. You’ll be the first man to be told the secrets in a very long time. This year’s winter solstice will mark the beginning of a new age of the world.”

           
Dan said nothing in reply as he looked at her with a new sense of who she was.
 
“I see,” he said at last. He had no idea what to say until finally he simply said, “So where do we go now?”

           
“Oh, that’s easy,” she said with a smile, “We just follow the ring forts up the hillside, way up there.
 
But, our destination is older, much older, even than these forts.
 
You’ll see,” she said and then she quickly turned and began walking uphill towards the next grass covered ring fort.

           
Three hours later, as the winter sun was setting below the western ridgeline behind them she stopped and turned to Dan.
 
“There it is,” she said, “Down there. It’s called the House of the Sun and the Moon. You’ll see why in a little while.
 
Follow me.” She walked downward, stepping on rocks that almost looked as if they had been placed as stepping stones, until they found themselves in a small sunken clearing, nearly circular and covered with grass.
 
It was perhaps not more than fifty yards across.
 
A single, old and gnarled, Hawthorn tree grew almost exactly in the middle of the clearing.

           
Dan turned and looked at Sheila skeptically. “You said that nobody knows about this place, Sheila? How can that be?
 
I mean it’s pretty much right out in the open, isn’t it?”

           
“Hmm? Oh, well, yes.
 
I guess in that sense, you’re right.
 
There are probably a lot of hikers who have come across it, but it’s the significance of the place that is secret. Here’s the first thing you need to understand about this place: everything you see, the depression, the raised ring around the outside, the stones on top of the ring, and everything else you’ll see, except for some obvious artwork, are completely natural. This place wasn’t built by men.
 
It’s not like Newgrange or Stonehenge or any of the other famous Neolithic sites. This place was discovered just as it is, and that is why it is so sacred. Come here,” she said and began walking toward the side of the clearing that backed up to the mountainside. “Look,” she said pointing to a pile of rubble that looked like the remains of a small landslide, “we need to clear this away.”
 
She began picking up the rocks and placing them about ten feet away. Dan joined her in her work and half an hour later they had moved the five foot high pile of rocks and revealed the opening to a cave that led into the side of
Caherconree
Mountain. “We’ll sleep here tonight,” Sheila said as Dan stared at the cave and the strange carvings that covered its inner walls.

           
Five hours later, as the embers of their campfire dimmed to a reddish glow, and they finished the last of their simple meal, Dan turned to Sheila and said, “This is really amazing.
 
All these carvings in the walls – now they’ve taken on the reddish glow of the coals, and they can be seen more clearly than ever.
 
Do you know what they mean?”

           
“Of course,” she said as she pulled the woolen blanket closer around both of them. “We, I mean some of the young girls, are taught these symbols beginning at an early age.
 
Our mothers would take us to the beach on summer days and draw them in the sand.”

           
“Really?”

           
“Yes!” she said with a big smile, “Really!”

           
“But, this is like some ancient language.
 
Do any of the archeologists, the researchers at the universities and the museums, do they know about these?”

           
Sheila laughed as if this were a wonderful joke. “Of course not, Dan.
 
This is living knowledge.
 
It’s not for everyone. It’s certainly not for academics who only wish to promote their own theories and discredit the ancient knowledge. No, you have to be selected before this is given to you.”

           
“And I’m worthy?” he asked, not understanding why he should be chosen.

           
“Dan, in a sense you were already chosen.
 
You helped to save the world.
 
I merely read the signs.”
 
Dan looked at her but didn’t reply, not knowing how to reply. He turned away and continued to look at the symbols on the walls.
 
Some seemed familiar, like the spirals that were linked together, and the series of carved out dots on the walls. But there were others, zigzag lines that underscored ripples, concentric circles with triangles in the center, and a series of vertical lines that started about three feet tall at the left and then diminished as they went to the right until they disappeared – or perhaps they began at the right and ended as three feet tall on the left.
 
He didn’t know.

           
“I don’t know what to say,” he finally replied.

           
“Good. Then say nothing for now.
 
I have much more to show you anyway,” Sheila said and, taking him by the hand she led him further back into the cave where the warm yellow and red glow of the dying fire bounced off the walls as if they were covered by thousands of tiny mirrors. “Lie down here,” she said as she covered a bed of straw with the blanket. Then without another word, she quickly loosened her clothes and let them drop to the floor. “There are some different secrets for you to learn now,” she said with a loving glow in her eyes, “I’m going to show you a secret you have never even imagined,” she said with a laugh as she reached over and began unbuttoning his shirt.