CHAPTER 9

The Ides of March, as I like to call the month, were upon us. Once in a while the sun peered through the heavy clouds, sliding its pale beams between their tumbling banks to reach the soggy earth. Then came a night of rain, of heavy wind and thrashing trees; a faint rumbling of thunder over the sea and the mountains. I woke up and lay listening to the water as it dripped on the balcony while Pat, in troubled sleep, muttered and moved beside me. I woke again to a bright, cloudless sky, a perfect spring day.

After the routine checking of our animals and cultures, Dr. Hallam called a halt.

"Pat, you're tired," he said. "I think you're going stale."

"I'm slowed to a walk. It must be spring fever."

"It's spring all right," I said. "Look at that beautiful sunshine. It's time to shuck off the long woollies and take a big dose of sulphur and molasses."

"What a horrible thought," Pat grimaced, "Did you ever taste it?"

"I sure did," I said. "My mother was the old-fashioned castor-oil-is-good-for-you type. She thought I needed a tonic to get the sap running every spring."

"The sap can run again ... right out to Stanley Park," Hallam grinned, "and take Pat with you. She needs a rest and some fresh air. I'm going to play golf. We'll start again tomorrow."

We had reached a lull in our experiments. It was the obvious time for a break.

* * * * *

I drove slowly through the park until, in a grassy enclosure not far from Brockton Point, we found the seclusion we wanted. In midweek, at that time of day, we had the place almost to ourselves. I put down a ground-sheet, opened the car blanket on it, and we lay down. The mild sea breeze rustled soothingly in my ears and brought with it the faint splashing of the tide against the jumbled boulders of the shore. A deep sea ship hooted at the Lion's Gate bridge and, like an echo, the answering call gave it clearance to pass. For a moment more I lay still but the bustle of life around me was too strong to allow relaxation and I sat up to look out over the harbor. I turned to Pat as she lay quietly beside me. The wind had settled her dress closely to her parted legs. I followed the clean lines upward, and when I got to her eyes I saw that she had been watching me. They sparkled with amusement.

"Like what you see, huh?" she teased me.

"Love it, darling," I replied and leaned over for a kiss.

She broke it off before I was through and as I backed away I saw the slight frown that deepened the lines above her nose.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing much, I hope. A slight pain in my stomach." She used the word in the ordinary sense.

"Whereabouts?"

"Low down above the pubis. It's gone now."

I laid my hand on the lower part of her belly and palpated it softly. There was no rigidity, no unusual mass.

"Does that hurt?" I probed deeper.

"No, it's a little uncomfortable, that's all."

I thought momentarily of the various possibilities and then dismissed it. The day was too lovely to spoil with a clinical discussion.

"Something you ate, no doubt." I smiled at her and lowered my mouth to touch her full red lips gently, once again.

She pushed me away. "That's enough. This place is too public."

I studied the bold contour of her nose and concluded that it was too large for true beauty ... the French influence, no doubt, in her Louisiana heritage. Her attractiveness was in her expressions more than in physical structure, I decided, but the mouth was perfect, no doubt about that, and her grey eyes as clear as a mountain pool filtered through limestone. I snuggled close to her, contentedly, and was beginning to doze in the fresh warmth of the springtime air when I felt her body tighten. I opened my eyes and rested on one elbow, watching her.

"What is it baby, the pain again?"

"Yes, it's crampy now ... something like a bad period," she twisted a little.

"Is it that time of the month again?"

"It could be. I've been having odd periods, very slight flow. I thought I might possibly be pregnant. It's been that way since I seduced you in December."

"That wasn't seduction, baby. That was merely anticipating the inevitable."

I began to question her seriously. There was little doubt in my mind after a few minutes that, if she wasn't pregnant, she was not behaving as a normal woman should. While we talked the pain returned, cramping and severe. She went white and pressed her hands to her belly in search of relief. That ruined the day. I took her home immediately.

* * * * *

"Take your clothes off and lie on the bed. I want to examine you," I said when we got there.

When I had finished there wasn't much doubt. She was about three months pregnant and threatening to abort. I left her in bed while I washed my hands. Then I came back and told her. For a moment she tried to be brave but then the tears came and I held her tight while her sobs shook us both.

"I've been afraid something might happen," she said finally, after I'd wiped off her wet face with a towel.

I sat on the edge of the bed. "Why?"

"You know I've been working with female ferrets, infected from the original one that aborted, trying to find out if that virus was a mutant from the S-Flu."

"Yes, I know that."

"I've passed it through quite a few females now and it's been showing definite differences. A week ago, I transferred it again and the ferrets got sick. I was working with one three days ago and it got loose and jumped on my shoulder and sneezed and clawed me as I tried to get it down and put it back in its cage."

"You had your suit on, didn't you?"

"Of course I did, but after I came out of the shower I noticed a little dampness. I checked the suit and found a defective shoulder seam where the helmet joins on. I suppose the ferret's claws opened it up. With all that movement I could have sucked some infected air into the suit."

"I don't know. With a separate air supply it doesn't seem too likely unless the claws carried virus inside like a hypodermic injection. It didn't scratch you, did it?"

"A little bit, I think, but it was on a place where I couldn't see it. I washed it with disinfectant later."

"Oh my God, what next?" I exclaimed. "But you've been having some irregular bleeding before this. Maybe it would have happened anyway. You don't have any signs of the flu?"

"I feel a bit stuffy and aching as if I were getting a cold."

"Well, we'll see. You rest here while I figure out what to do."

The fact that this might be the mutation we were looking for didn't penetrate just then. All I cared about was that Pat was sick and I had to take care of her, if possible, without a scandal. I was standing beside the bed, my mind racing over the various possibilities when she groaned and whispered, "John, the pain is really bad now. I think I'm bleeding too."

I got her a couple of codeine tablets and then dialled the Chief. This was one situation I couldn't handle myself, for obvious reasons, and I needed someone with understanding and discretion.

He was there in less than fifteen minutes, fortunately having just returned to the club house when I called. He heard my report. He checked Pat himself. She was well along now and we both agreed that there was no chance of stopping the miscarriage.

"Have you been close to many other people in the last three days?" he asked her, looking very disturbed.

"Nobody but you and John, as far as I know," she gasped between spasms of pain.

It was probably true. We three were working on the secret problems in isolation during the day. Polly and Harry helped us with the procedures that had to be done in the main lab and so were not in direct physical contact with us. We seldom stopped work until long after the day workers had left the Lab and were there in the morning before them. We didn't go out for meals during the day as we had all we needed on the top floor. I could see Hallam was concerned about the disease getting loose. If the vaccine we had was no protection from this new mutation, and if Pat had a case of flu it obviously wasn't, then this new disease could raise hell among the people and maybe finish what the Reds had started.

* * * * *

"We can't stay here, and we can't take her to a hospital," the Chief decided. "We mustn't let this new virus get out. I'll have to take care of her myself in the Research Lab. There are some instruments there and we can get more if we need them." He looked down at Pat. "I'm no obstetrician, my dear, but I think we can see you through this if you agree."

Pat smiled tiredly. "You're a doctor, and a good one. Do what you think best."

I had to agree even though it frightened me. I'd seen dozens of similar cases in my earlier days as a young interne but my imagination was too active where my own loved ones were concerned. The main danger was sudden hemorrhage but we could easily get blood sent up to us. Otherwise nature would probably take care of things in its own way. By now it was after rush hour and the Lab would be empty. Once more we let ourselves into the building and went up to the top floor, using the elevator for Pat's sake. She could hardly walk by now, even with our help, and it was a struggle to get her to her room. Once there we stripped the bed down. I prepped her and draped her for delivery and the Chief gave her intravenous demerol and a capsule of seconal. Then we waited.

An hour later it was over. She had aborted spontaneously, and, as far as we could tell, completely. With the assistance of a small dose of ergot we had controlled the bleeding and the uterus was small and firm. I checked her pulse and blood pressure. There was no sign of shock. She lay there quietly after I had changed the linen and, as I pulled the covers over her, she took my hand.

"I'm so sorry, John," she said weakly. "I guess I wrecked my own plans for having your baby when I got careless with that ferret. Now I'm probably sterile."

She began to cry silently, the big tears rolling slowly on to the pillow.

I stroked her damp hair back from her forehead and kissed her eyes gently. "Maybe you aren't sterile," I said hopefully, "and even if you are it doesn't matter. I love you, and I'll always love you, whether we have children or not."

* * * * *

"I wonder how many years we'll have to spend cooped up in here?" I said, half-seriously to Dr. Hallam later that night. Pat was sleeping soundly under the influence of a capsule of sodium amytal he had given her. We had cooked a steak dinner and now we sat, weary but relieved, over our coffee.

"Lord alone knows," he said. "We'll have to stay here now until we see if you and I are going to catch this thing and what the effects will be. I hope for the sake of our research project we do get it, although I'm not happy about being a guinea pig. Even if it proves to be a suitable weapon we still have to come up with a cure for it, or rather a vaccine to prevent it, so our own people and our allies are protected."

"Why include the allies?" I said, merely for the sake of argument. "Won't that increase the risk of the Reds learning our plans?"

"It will, unless we take a calculated risk. I believe we should manufacture vaccine and stockpile it, not to be issued until the disease is actually causing epidemics in Russia. Then we can fly the vaccine all over the world and let our friends use it. Some people may catch the disease, but not too many. We might even offer some to the Russians, to allay their suspicions, making sure it's too late to help much."

"But don't you think they'll get wise?"

"Of course! But if we do it right I believe they won't dare to use open aggression any more than we are doing."

"This kind of undeclared war could go on interminably, as the Cold War seemed to do back in the Fifties," I said gloomily.

"It probably could," Hallam agreed. "Our one hope is to effect a change in leaders, or at least in policy, in Russia. Maybe, just maybe, new leaders will arise who will work with the democracies for a world system of government."

"A faint hope," I said, "but I'll go to bed now before that cheerful thought yields to glum reality."

I checked Pat before I turned in. She was resting well and I thought she looked a little less feverish. Her head felt cooler and her pulse was about normal. Sadly, thinking of her loss and mine, I closed the door behind me.

* * * * *

Pat's recovery was rapid and uneventful. The following morning she got up and had coffee with us. In a couple of days she was getting around well although the Chief wisely insisted she rest for long periods and absolutely refused to let her work in the Lab. Part of her restless energy she expended on preparing tasty meals for us until we both began to grumble about our expanding waistlines. There was no sign that the new disease had ill effects other than what she had already suffered. Whether or not she was sterile was a question that would have to wait. I had no intention of putting it to the test for a good long time. To work for the cause of science was all very well but I could see no point in sacrificing my love to it.

The new virus was christened FS for female sterility and we re-named the old one MS for male sterility. The new one was easy to grow. It thrived on fertilized eggs, in ferrets, hamsters, mice and monkeys; in every animal we could find. With passage through numerous generations it became more virulent until, in its final form, it caused abortion in all pregnant animals. Invariably, after recovery of the animals, our pathologists were unable to find any developing eggs in their ovaries. Because of their short breeding cycle we worked mainly with hamsters, those fat little relatives of the guinea pig. Even the amazing fertility of the hamster was stopped by the FS virus.

"It looks as if we have the answer for the Russians," I said exultantly after we had tallied our results some weeks later.

"I'm not so sure, John, not so sure at all," Hallam said thoughtfully.

"Why is that, Sir?"

"Have you ever thought of the consequences of sterilizing every mammal on earth, and perhaps the birds and other animals too?" he asked. "This FS virus is powerful. If we start another pandemic it could get away from us. It might increase in power still more, though God knows it's bad enough. And obviously we can't inoculate every animal of all the species it may affect even when we find the vaccine to counteract it. We'd have to build another Noah's Ark and take it out in the middle of the ocean to be sure we could save them from extinction."

"We have a Noah's Ark now," I suggested. "We could isolate the Americans from Asia, Europe and Africa. Australia and New Zealand could do the same. We are doing it for the measlepox right now until there is enough vaccine to go around."

"That's true, although it wouldn't be difficult for the Russians to smuggle the virus ashore. They might do it if they thought they were licked. The dying soldier often tries to drag his enemy down with him."

"But aside from all that," he continued, "I still don't like it. Men have wiped out some of the most beautiful and interesting creatures of this earth. The passenger pigeon is gone. The bison is a curiosity in National Parks. The trumpeter swan is in danger and the California condor is on its last lap. I don't believe this world was created just so man could ruin it, and I don't want to go down in history as the most ruthless destroyer of all time. Oh, I know I'll be expected to give this discovery to our politicians. The discoverers of the atomic bomb and H-bomb did just that and their consciences have bothered them ever since. There is a greater loyalty in this world than loyalty to one's country ... it is loyalty to the human race. I believe in the Golden Rule. Call it Christian logic if you wish. We have already disturbed the balance of Creation in this world as a cancer disturbs the human body, and, like a cancer, when we destroy too much of the world we too may die."

"But the Russians don't live and let live," I objected. "Are you willing to let them take over the world and perpetuate communist doctrines?"

"It's a thought I do not like," he said very quietly, "but all through history "isms" have grown and then have died as time passed. This "ism" too could pass. Perhaps Gandhi was right. Passive resistance won in India and although the Reds are much more cruel than the British ever were, even they can't go too far. Remember the East German revolt and the Georgian riots after the denunciation of Stalin? Remember the horrors of Hungary? Our agents report increasing unrest in Russia itself. The people are sick of repression and terror. Demands for moderation are even printed in their papers. The Far Left is slowly moving back to the middle of the road. We should go to meet it instead of edging farther and farther to the Right, into the nightmare world of Hitler and Mussolini."

* * * * *

"Then what are we to do? Do you want to destroy the virus?"

"I don't know. After all, you and Pat are involved in this and may not agree."

"I know the politicians would want us to give them the information," I said. "I'll never forget in the States during the row over the H-bomb and Oppenheimer, how some pompous ass of a senator got up and said he thought scientists should stick to science and leave decisions of ethics and national policy to those who knew best--meaning himself and those like him. Democracy is a wonderful thing but I can't see how getting elected makes any man a sage. I honestly doubt if the ordinary politician is as competent to judge the effects of a scientific discovery as the scientists themselves are."

"What about democracy and the will of the majority?" Hallam countered.

"You have me there," I admitted. "I suppose if we adhere strictly to that idea there should be a vote on whether or not to use this new weapon, which, of course, would lose us the element of surprise. But again, what does the ordinary man know about such things. To come right down to it ... how often has there been a nation-wide vote in any democratic country on whether or not to get into a war?"

"I know of none," Hallam answered, "which means of course that essentially, in times of stress, decisions are made by a few, or even by one man. And that brings us full circle. Shall we make the decision now?"

"I feel somewhat like the old country doctor who taught me obstetrics," I said. "Whenever he was in doubt about a delivery he sat down, lit a big cigar, and waited. Nature usually took care of things for him."

"A smart idea," said the boss. "We'll work--and wait."