Extinction Level Event (27 page)

Manjak walks through a hall to another room with two
sofas, an armchair, and several closets. He takes down a few of his
belongings from the closets and neatly packs them into his
suitcase, lying on the floor by the first sofa. Throwing in a pair
of shoes, three button-up shirts, a Tylenol, his case for reading
glasses, and his spare cell phone, he closes and locks the
Samsonite suitcase.

Pulling the trolley behind him, Manjak makes his way
through the somewhat ramshackle arrangement of tables and chairs in
the main lounge before coming to the door. Zafir is waiting
outside, along with a cab. Manjak hands Zafir one last set of
papers from FAO headquarters before getting in the cab, telling
him, "Don't make me look bad, Z." "You know I won't." Manjak
instructs the driver to take him to the airport.

The drive is not as monotonous as other cities, as
the traffic forces the driver to make several unique and somewhat
daring maneuvers to squeeze into spaces that would be high
ticket-able by western standards. The driver still manages to get
Manjak to the terminal within forty-five minutes, receiving a
generous tip in return. Manjak hurries through the lines at the
counters, checking in his luggage and passing through security
within less than twenty minutes- unheard of at many US
airports.

Manjak sits down at a seat, gazing at the Thai
Airways flight unloading passengers at the gate. He opens up his
laptop and sends an email to Maria, detailing events from the past
three days and the results of the cabinet meeting. Another e-mail
is from Director Maurice, asking him on his whereabouts. Manjak
sends a brief note back explaining the situation, but otherwise
feeling that more is unnecessary.
What's he doing?
Still
in Rome, deciding what to do about EWK-1?

Manjak brushes away a brief personal contempt for the
man as he closes his computer and joins the boarding line.

Within another thirty minutes the aircraft pulls out
from the gate and taxis to the runway, taking off into the cloudy
sky. As soon as the aircraft reaches cruising altitude Manjak
re-opens his laptop. Maurice sent a reply. The email detailed in
brief a plan put together by the Director to meet with the Council
of Europe that day, preparing a long range strategy for eastern
Africa. There was no mention of EWK-1, earthworms, Mexico, China,
the US, or anything related.
What? Really?
A brief
explanation accompanied a statement from the International Fund on
Agricultural Development (IFAD), stating that at the moment there
was no foreseeable way that the Fund could help the afflicted
nations. Maurice even argued that it was the responsibility of the
individual government's health agencies and internal agricultural
and customs offices to work in preventing EWK-1.

Maybe he doesn't see, that if EWK-1 gets its way
around the globe, there won't be much agriculture left for FAO to
develop. Ahh, of course thats it.
Manjak thinks, pausing at his
revelation.
It really becomes the UN's responsibility, and
through that FAO's to deal with the repercussion of the EWK-1
epizootic.
No other organization has such direct influence
over worldwide agriculture. But Maurice is stuck in a narrow path
of thinking about development, improving farming methods . . . he
thinks this is just another plant disease. He doesn't consider it a
serious threat. It is.

Manjak decides that he needs to head back to Rome and
get a high level meeting of the UN FAO delegates together, along
with the intergovernmental agencies WFP and IFAD. The emergency
meeting would deal specifically about dealing with EWK-1 in the
long term, including potential effects that may be felt years from
now.

What we really should be asking ourselves. . . what
would happen if we simply cannot get earthworms back in those areas
affected? Will farmers be able to live without them? Can we grow
plants in poor quality soil? Can we grow them in an environment
with no fertile soil at all?

The plane lands smoothly at Bangkok's Suvarnabhumi
Airport at 4:41pm in the afternoon, only ten minutes later than
predicted. After disembarking Manjak goes over to a payphone. He
calls an international exit number, calling halfway around the
world to Mexico. Sofia answers the phone. "Hello?" "Hey. I need you
to get me something, hon." "What might that be?" "There is a
collaboration between the US and Mexican governments working on
preventing EWK-1 and trying to determine its origin, right?" "Yes."
"Can you get me reports on their scientific research?" "I'm fairly
sure I can. It shouldn't be a problem. When do you need them?" "As
soon as you can get them to me." "Alright." "Thanks hon. Love
you."

Manjak hangs up.
Always useful having some back
channels for information;
He smiles inwardly. He briefly
wonders how many other people use the same payphone on a daily
basis and the bacteria he just picked up before brushing the
thought away and heading towards the international arrivals and
customs check.

06 CSI: DENIABILITY

UCLA

After waiting three days, Krishnan finally received
the information from Medina regarding the NBACC tests done on
infected earthworms. Scrolling through the pages of notes on
earthworms and the effects of EWK-1 on the earthworm population,
Krishnan reminisces over Konovalov's gloomy hypothesis. They
certainly have done a lot of research on the genetic structure of
EWK-1, how it relates to each species of earthworm, and tested
measures of EWK-1 preventability. Although, Krishnan reminds
himself, that is to be expected since NBACC's whole mission
revolves around thinking of ways to prevent the spread of dangerous
diseases.

Two species of European origin,
Lumbricus
Festivus
, a variant of the common
Lumbricus Terrestris
,
and
Eisenia Veneta,
a large pinkish worm, were found by
scientists to be still living in small numbers around several
isolated areas of Idaho, Washington, and Colorado. These specimens
were brought back to UCLA, where Krishnan's team ran tests on them.
So far, the scientists from CBEID had managed to collect and
categorize over 1,689 separate earthworm species. They had then
taken a hundred specimens of each species and injected them with
the EWK-1 virus. None of the worms survived more than two days.
Sadly, the
Lumbricus Festivus
and
Eisenia Veneta
brought back from the wild had suffered the same fate.

Then, a surprise happened. A specimen brought in
after all the others had survived the viral injection it had been
given, and seemed to be doing fine. The worm belonged to the
species
Driloleirus Americanus
, also known as the Giant
Palouse, a rare earthworm found in areas of Wyoming and Washington
State.
Driloleirus Americanus
is a highly unusual large
earthworm, often over 18 inches long, entirely albino white in
color and even capable of spitting in self-defense. The worm is
reported to be able to burrow up to 15 feet below the ground.
However, Gonzalez, upon hearing of the news, quickly pointed out
the many problems. Firstly, he reminded Krishnan that
Driloleirus Americanus
is a species considered
vulnerable
by the World Conservation Union, due to loss of
habitat and general rareness of sightings. In fact, since 1980 to
the present day there had only been six confirmed sightings of the
Giant Palouse worm, including the specimen captured and tested that
week.

Gonzalez pointed out the futility of trying to
acquire a large number of the worms due to their seeming isolation
and rarity; however he also explained to Krishnan that there was no
conclusive scientific information on their abundance in the wild.
When Krishnan suggested that expeditions be sent out to collect
more Giant Palouses, Gonzalez pointed out several attempts to do
just that in the recent past had failed. However, since it was now
an issue of national interest, Krishnan had pushed the issue with
the CBEID staff and LaJoy had approved it.

After being told what to do by Gonzalez, the
Universities of Wyoming, Washington, and Idaho had quickly formed
groups of interested professors and graduate students to begin
searching for more Giant Palouse worms which were then to be
brought back to the lab. Krishnan was hoping that they would be
able to find many specimens in a short amount of time, so that they
could set them up in a quarantined habitat where they would be able
to quickly reproduce.
If
the search teams could get several
specimens to UCLA, and
if
the worms would be willing to
mate, and
if
numerous offspring were produced and survived,
Krishnan imagined that the Giant Palouse could potentially be a
critical step to repairing the ecosystems and agriculture currently
in jeopardy. In the meantime, Krishnan continued to look for a
breakthrough in genetic research that could produce an artificially
resistant earthworm.

Drs. Miyazaki and Wang, along with their respective
teams, had had no luck. Even though they had isolated multiple
specimens of EWK-1, and more so managed to produced a vaccine,
there was no way to inoculate the entire population which consisted
of several hundred diverse species. Furthermore, the vaccination
produced only provided fifty-two known species with immunity.

On the other hand, Krishnan was getting closer.
Numerous new variations of earthworms were being created on a daily
basis, by splicing genes from two different species into the gamete
cells' DNA. Some earthworms could create hybrid species, others
couldn't. Generally, a species cannot breed with another species
and create viable offspring, but as many dog breeders and animal
experts could testify this is not always the case. From mixed-breed
mutts to 'Grolar' Bears; a cross between a Grizzly and Polar Bear,
nature and humans have found ways to go around this basic rule of
species' individualism. Krishnan was hoping that a hybrid of a
commonplace species, such as
Lumbricus Terrestris
, could be
created that would be resistant to EWK-1. If that were the case, it
would not be necessary to create an entirely new species from
scratch.

Meanwhile, Dr. Medina had requested files from
Konovalov's company GeneZTech. Krishnan decided that he better go
ask Konovalov why Medina would want his private company files.
Thinking about the request, he thought it highly unusual that a
high-level government employee working for a top-secret
installation would want some obscure files from a biotech company.
Perhaps they were contracting out research on EWK-1 without
informing me about it?
But if so, wouldn't Viktor be at his
own lab right now instead of wasting his time here in LA?
Krishnan, not knowing what to make of it, figured he would get the
answers from Konovalov.

He dons a anti-bacterial lab suit, latex gloves and
shoe pads before entering lab 204. Seeing an associate researcher
of Konovalov's Krishnan asks where Konovalov is. He points towards
the rear room. Krishnan walks through the sterile environment of
humming supercomputers and giant refrigerators before he sees
Konovalov running a DNA sequence on a large screen. The black and
white screen changes into a myriad of colors, all indicating
different codons along the genetic code displayed.

"Hey, Viktor. I need to talk to you." Konovalov turns
around, pausing the shifting color patterns on screen as he does
so. "About?" "Medina, the chief of operations at NBACC asked for
access to your files. I wanted to know why would he need, or want
this." Konovalov sighs, takes off his black-rimmed glasses and sets
them down on a table. He stares vacantly into space. "I suspected
it would come to this. It was too close to be coincidental." "What
is too close to be coincidental? What are you referring to?" "It's
a long story." "It is probably better if you explain everything
now, so that I could corroborate it later if the need arises. I'll
be your witness, your defense for anything; you know that. What is
Medina looking for?"

Konovalov looks at Krishnan directly in the eyes.
"Two years ago, Medina contacted me on behalf of NBACC. He wanted
to create a business partnership, of sorts. Really, it was contract
work, of the type where I had to sign several fairly serious
non-disclosure agreements and promise not to share the details with
anyone. Government contract work." "What did he ask you to work
on?" "He claimed that eco-terrorists were introducing non-native
species of earthworms, and that he needed a defense. Specifically,
a viral agent to kill the invasive species. I was a little puzzled
as to why NBACC and Homeland Security was so interested in this
field and not the USDA, who usually deals with invasive species,
but the contract was worth millions so I ignored that. GeneZTech
categorized hundreds of species and came up with novel bacterial
and viral methods of eliminating the creatures. We created entirely
new strains. But each one of the strains was designed for a
particular species." Konovalov takes a pause, trying to gauge
Krishnan's reaction to his revelation, "Obviously, we created
thousands of strains in the end."

Krishnan takes in Konovalov's story, simply surprised
at how naive his friend sometimes was in business matters. "So you
didn't make EWK-1?" "No. I think that NBACC was responsible
ultimately for that superstrain which is now EWK-1. Really the
culmination of all that work." "And now you think that it's really
a government weapon. . . . how typical of you." "It is!", exclaims
Konovalov defensively, "What possible other purpose could there be
to such a superstrain other than disrupting a nation's agriculture?
A truly twenty-first century weapon. And then they could claim its
some new disease from the backwater of constantly emerging new
diseases."