months analyzing the organic medicine and hoped to find some answers soon.
She’d called a peer at the World Health Organization in South America to check on the strain, but he’d assured her that there was nothing to worry about. He’d heard the rumors. They’d taken samples and conducted interviews in a village along the Amazon.
If the government officials were saying not to worry, she could be opening a can of worms. The World Health Organization and the CDC would both have consulted with the Peruvian government.
She was cautious by nature. She opened the new package. It was packaged the same way the original one was. Only this time the note on the packaging was labeled, Male Caucasian, 55 years old, Rob Miller.
Another sample of her father’s blood. Her heart beat just a little faster. Did he suspect he’d been infected? Oh, man. He’d better not be infected.
She still had a lot of things to say to the man. And…she pushed the thoughts aside. Now she was going to have to test his blood sample. She wished Tom wasn’t here.
There wasn’t anything she could do about it now. Find a treatment, then worry about her father.
“Tell me what you need me to do,” Tom said, taking the sample and going to a microscope in the corner.
“Each day, I’ve been checking the blood sample. I’ve administered the powder from this tree bark, which works as a temporary relief of this virus. But so far the change in the growth pattern in the petri dish doesn’t resemble a treatment.”
“I wonder if the insect is the carrier? It could have been a primate. Did the letter indicate?” Tom asked.
She glanced at him. “No. He wasn’t sure what carried the disease, just sent this little wasp as a possibility. I’ve been concentrating on trying to isolate the virus and figure out what it is. If it’s something we’ve already identified and can treat. I’ve been varying the sample treatment with known treatments for differing fevers found in the region.”
“What’d he send this time?”
“His own blood sample. He included his with the first package to show a healthy test had been conducted. But this new sample means…”
“He thinks he might be infected. Want me to check it? He is your father.”
Did she really want Tom to do this for her? Hell, no. She’d do it. “No. Why don’t you take a look at these two slides, see what the treated and untreated blood looks like.” She pointed to the slides containing the Yura tribesmen’s samples.
Tom reached around her for the two samples before moving across the room to the other long lab table. “Let’s crack this case wide open.”
She smiled at him, trying to make sure he’d think this was a normal reaction. Trying not to let him see that she was afraid for once of the knowledge she’d always taken such pride in.
“God, you are too corny for words. Good thing you chose to go into science.”
“Why’s that?” he asked, arching one eyebrow at her.
“Any other profession wouldn’t tolerate your eccentricities.”
“Sure it would. I’m brilliant, and that kind of raises the tolerance bar,” Tom said.
“Not far enough.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “I like you, Jane.”
“Thanks, Tom. Let’s get to work.”
Tom took his sample to a corner of the lab and Jane went to work. The space-suit gloves were for her protection, but she didn’t like to use them. If she’d been alone in the lab she would have shed them. But she couldn’t with Tom here, so she worked with them on.
She took her time preparing the electron microscope, a fully computerized technological wonder that took up as much room in her lab as her large desk did. Finally, her father’s blood was being shot by the microscope’s “gun,” the lens focusing on objects too small for the most powerful light microscope to magnify. The computer screen finally showed her a photo of the tiniest of objects: a virus. Blood rushed in her ears and spots danced in front of her eyes. She reached behind her for support against the countertop.
“Jane? You okay?”
She shook her head and forced down the bile rising in the back of her throat. “Yeah. I’m fine. Let me compare this with the one you’re looking at.”
She concealed the panic and pain and infinite sadness that rose through her like a wave.
Tom didn’t say anything, just stepped back out of the way. She ordered the computer to remove the sample. She studied the slide, adjusting the light. With this level of magnification it was easier to see the infection.
Saying nothing to Tom, she inserted a new sample.
She adjusted her glasses and glanced down. The cells began to take shape on the computer screen as she searched. Slowly it came into focus.
Jane’s dad was infected with the same virus that was killing the Yura. And it was fatal.
“Where’s the modified bark treatment you made?” Tom asked.
Jane stared at him. In her mind she saw every en counter she’d had with her father.
“Jane?”
“I’m sorry. I’m a little upset.”
“I can see that. What can I do to help?”
She looked back at the slide again, this time as a scientist and not as a daughter. She looked at the cells and how they’d replicated. It seemed similar to Lassa fever, which was diagnosed by analyzing the platelets.
“Yes. Fine. Let’s try the treatment.” Jane left Tom and went to the refrigerator where she’d stored the batch from yesterday. This was the third mutation of a possible treatment she’d made.
She returned to Tom and administered a drop of it, praying it would work. She did the same thing with the other infected sample. Then, using a healthy blood sample of her own, she tried the treatment she’d culled from the same mutated strain.
“Well, well, well. You didn’t need me after all, Jane.”
She looked at the computer screen with Tom and saw that the new mutated treatment was indeed isolating and destroying the virus.
“I need to talk to Meredith and then call the director of the lab in Lima.”
Tom said nothing else. “I’ll run a test to see how long the treatment will stop the virus.”
“Thanks, Tom.”
Jane left the lab slowly, not wanting Tom to see her inward panic, but she walked as fast as she could. She barely tolerated the decon shower. She pressed her thumb to the keypad to activate the door. “Good day, Dr. Miller.”
Jane sprinted to her locker, stripping the space suit from her body as she moved. She dumped the space suit in the environmental cleaning bin and tugged on her jeans. Dammit, why the hell had she worn a button-down shirt today? She struggled to get her arms into the shirt and started buttoning it before she realized the damned thing was twisted.
She closed her eyes. Her hands were trembling and she knew she had to focus. This wasn’t helping anyone. She pulled the shirt off and calmly put it on correctly.
She flashed her badge at the new security guard and he keyed the door. She dashed down the corridor to the retinal scanner. Pulled off her glasses and bent to be scanned.
The door popped open and she forced herself to walk slowly through it. Stan waved at her as she emerged. She waved back. The urgency riding her was intense but her steps slowed as she neared her boss’s office. How was she going to explain that her father had once again stumbled onto a fatal virus?
Meredith Redding had been with the CDC for more