Extinction Level Event (28 page)

"You couldn't figure this out before? I'm sure that
it was contracted to other companies besides GeneZTech. That way
most traces of the work wouldn't show up in their documents. The
project would be virtually secret and very few people would know
anything about it. Medina probably knows more about it that anyone
else. In fact, I managed to run a few contacts from my days on the
board of directors- they did have a project to work on agricultural
diseases. It was known as
Project Deniability
." "Project
Deniability?- never heard of it.", answers Konovalov, intrigued.
"It was also started by Dr. Medina, as a proposed way of finding
ways of countering enemy agents that harm our agriculture. I don't
know what became of it, but perhaps he reversed its original
intentions. Ironic how things play out."

"The project must have been set by the DoD. If this
project was under the supervision of the Secretary of Defense, it
will be difficult to uncover any more information or try to get
this out to the public. The DoD will want everything quiet." "No.
We're going up to my office right now. I'll talk to Secretary
Onassis and see if we can get access to the latest files from
Project Deniability." The two men leave the lab, taking off their
gloves and protective face masks. Krishnan straightens out his tie
as they walk through the red tiled corridors. "I can't believe you
didn't tell me all this before.", he states exasperatingly, "You
should have told me the moment you heard something- anything- on
the news regarding the outbreak." The two men enter an elevator,
heading upstairs. "I couldn't. . . ", replies Konovalov weakly,
"There are too many forces tied up here. I figured the best I could
do was to get myself up here as soon as I can and help fix the
problem I created." "You didn't create it.", assures Krishnan,
trying unsuccessfully to get rid of the man's guilt, "But you did
lay out the foundations for this to happen."

The elevator doors open, and the two men walk out
right into a group of four FBI agents. "Excuse us", Krishnan says
politely. "Wait", states the Agent in Charge, distinguishable from
his colleagues by his business casual suit. "You are Dr.
Konovalov?", he states sternly, pointing at Konovalov. "Please come
with us." "Officer, what's the charge?", demands Krishnan, taking
in the situation and gripping his friend's shoulder tightly, as if
to keep him away from the agents. "Negligence of items deemed vital
to National Security, reckless endangerment of civilians' lives."
Konovalov's already white face pales even more so. He turns quickly
to Krishnan. "It can't be. I wasn't responsible for this!", he
begs. "I was not negligent! The items were not under my control!
You must clear my name!" "I will." "You have to! This is absurd!"
Two agents cuff Konovalov. "Where are you taking him?", asks
Krishnan. "I'm not at liberty to disclose that, sir", replies the
lead officer. "This man has been charged with those crimes. You can
take it up with the Director, sir, for any more information on this
matter. My orders come from him directly." The men step right back
into the elevator. Konovalov heads over to the second-floor window,
watching as the agents put Konovalov into a dark, unmarked car.

The car drives off, leaving Krishnan without his
closest confidant and missing a great scientist. Determined to find
out what was going on, Krishnan rushed into his office down the
hallway and punched up Medina's address on the teleconferencing
website. Failing to connect, he phones him and finds the line busy.
Forced to use the slowest and last resort, Krishnan sends over a
wordy e-mail to Dr. Medina.
He should get back to me by tomorrow
the latest
. Preoccupied with Konovalov's abrupt arrest and
trying to focus back onto work, Krishnan instead decides to make a
few phone calls and dig up some dead ends.
Did I not know you as
well as I though I did, old friend?
Perhaps more than a few
skeletons will appear in the closets of Konovalov and his
associates. He dials the Office of Homeland Security.

Bangkok, Thailand

Bangkok, a bustling metropolis known internationally
for its modern city skyline, awesome spires, royal palaces, golden
Buddha statues, and adult entertainment venues. The streets are
awash with buses, automobiles old and new, trucks, and auto
rickshaws, while monorails float above the streets unobstructed by
the other traffic below. In addition to fame due to perceived
exoticism, this city of over ten million inhabitants has also
gained notoriety for large traffic jams, air pollution, wetland
mold, and more recently violent demonstrations and shaky
governments. Manjak worries that the precocious state of the new
national government, recently brought to power in disputed
elections, will leave it in no position to begin implementing a
plan in time to prevent the EWK-1 virus from unleashing its full
fury upon the semi-tropical nation.

Manjak takes a taxi, and hopes for the best. By
8:30pm, some of the afternoon traffic died down, but most was
quickly replaced by nightlife traffic consisting of partygoers
heading to clubs and other venues. In the dimming sky, the orange
glow from the setting sun dazzles across the golden spires and
steel-glass precipices of skyscrapers, showing the city in all its
glory. The Chao Praya River, full of boats and barges, creates a
large natural western boundary for the downtown city limits. The
spires of the Grand royal palace come into view, jutting out into
the dusky sky, conspicuously present amongst the foreground of
modern office towers. The rest of the downtown, leading from the
palace to the Parliament and Government House is a maze of
businesses, residences, shopping malls, and temples that form part
of Bangkok's unique metropolitan aura. Crowds of pedestrians flood
the sidewalks, heading out to restaurants, movies, nightclubs, or
simply heading home for the evening.

Manjak's taxi drops him off near the intersection of
Thanon Rama V and Thanon Phitsanulok Avenues, only a block away
from the Government House of Thailand. The House, which is a blend
of early twentieth century Thai and Venetian architecture, was
originally designed to be the House for one of the King's favorite
generals. Now it is used to house the offices of the Prime Minister
and his cabinet. Manjak is expecting to meet with the ministers of
Agriculture, Natural Resources, and the Interior.

His phone goes off. Manjak checks the caller ID, sees
that it is his secretary Maria Pereira, and picks up the call.
"Yes?" "Trip. You are planning on visiting the People's Republic in
two days, right?" "Yes, its on your schedule, why?" "I've just got
a look at a report from the Beijing office; it seems that they're
having an outbreak there." "I know that already." "I meant a human
outbreak, Trip." "A what?", Manjak rolls the words in his head. "A
human outbreak. They have several hundred people sick, and twenty
dead, in the Shanghai region, in Jiangsu and Zhejiang provinces
where EWK-1 was confirmed." "You sure? How do they know there is a
link?" "Its the hypothesis their scientists have right now.
Geographic overlap, timing of victims getting the symptoms." "So
they're suggesting the virus has leapfrogged to humans as well?
Reports from Mexico stated that the virus only affects the worms.
The human populations were fine." "I'm just giving you the news,
Trip. It will be all over the major networks within a couple of
hours." "Fine Thanks for the advance warning, good to know." Manjak
hangs up, and crosses the street.

The uniformed guards in front of the building's
entrance stop him briefly, before escorting him through the gate
after reviewing his UN identification and name.

Once in the building, Manjak is greeted by an aide
who shows him to a large conference room. After explaining that the
Ministers will be there shortly, the aide assists Manjak in setting
up his laptop to the screen in front of the conference table.
Manjak sips a glass of water, taking a moment to check his watch-
9:16pm local time. Another aide opens the ornate doors to the
conference room, while several men enter the room. Manjak is first
introduced to Kasemchai Sumjialongkorn, the Minister of
Agriculture, whom he had previously met at UN conferences in New
York. Next he quickly shakes hands with the Deputies of the
Interior, Natural Resources, Public Health, and one of the three
Thai Deputy Prime Ministers. After taking another sip of water,
Manjak quickly begins explaining the nature of EWK-1 and the
likeliness of it coming down across central China to Thailand soon.
He also briefly stresses the fact that Thailand is a crossroads
between mainland Asia and the islands of Southeast Asia. After
listening quietly for fifteen minutes, Sumjialongkorn interrupts
him, asking, "We understand and see that this plan is critical for
not only us, but for the rest of the ASEAN region as well. But even
if we prevent EWK-1 from affecting our heartland and agriculture,
we have heard today of the virus harming humans as well. Even with
superb public health measures, it seems we cannot guarantee
non-contamination anymore merely by a physical barrier. Trade will
come down significantly if we take some of the measures that you
propose." "It will. But in the long run, trade will always spike
back up once the crisis is averted." "It seems that you are
interested in using our capacity to feed over three times our own
country's population, and using it to as leverage, Dr. Manjak.",
points out the Deputy Prime Minister dryly.

'I am", he admits honestly, "But I am sure that every
other ASEAN member will appreciate it if Thailand were to become
their breadbasket for the next year or two. It would be a major
favor, and, leverage to your advantage.", Manjak reminds them,
trying to make the large changes requested of the Thai government
seem more sweet than bitter.
There's always a carrot and a
stick. Yes we're counting on their high agricultural capacity,
that's because no one else will be growing anything in another
three months!
"It is likely that the world will experience a
recession due to EWK-1 halting of trade, as we have already seen
happening now on the US and Mexico's western coasts. Agricultural
exporting will increase in importance if EWK-1 has its way, in both
southeast Asia and around the world." The Ministers take a moment
to converse between themselves in Thai. Manjak, who can't speak any
except for 'Hello', waits patiently. Then the Deputy Prime Minister
switches back to English, "We'll start working on your plan, Dr.
Manjak. We're convening an special session of the Parliament
tomorrow, I will inform the Prime Minister, and that should be
that. But, another question. How does FAO intend to deal with the
emergence of EWK-1 internationally? You won't be visiting all
members individually, I presume?" "No. We're working on getting an
emergency meeting of the FAO in two weeks, where we hope to lay
down a longer term , and more expansionary strategy. But by that
time, EWK-1 would have already made it to Singapore." "Very well
then." The Ministers soon exit the room after exchanging farewells
with Manjak, although Sumjialongkorn stays a bit longer. "If I may
ask, what is FAO's idea for China? I suppose EWK-1 would have an
even more acute effect on them than on us, and to make matters
worse it seems to have planted itself there after presumably being
transported over on a container ship. Shanghai is one of their
larger ports." "We haven't come up with one yet. Besides, their
government is more reluctant to have FAO take a look at what they
call their internal affairs", answers Manjak truthfully, once again
being reminded of the many gaping holes that still needed to be
fixed. "I see. Hopefully your experts back in Rome will come up on
something that we can have consensus on before the Emergency
Meeting begins." "Hopefully", agrees Manjak. Sumjialongkorn shakes
hands and walks off, before one of the aides arrives and tells him
a taxi is ready to take him to his hotel. Manjak weary from the
flying and remembering that he needed to rush in order to actually
get the preparations for the meeting in Rome rolling, fell into bed
immediately upon entering his hotel room.

Los Angeles, California

It may be November, but in lower California the
weather is still sunny and the temperature still warm enough to
give pedestrians a false impression of spring. A bright sun blazes
across the pavements and rooftops while a gentle wind breezes from
the west, keeping the temperature at a cool 16 Celsius. Peter LaJoy
parks his car at one of the many multi-story car parks in downtown,
puts on his sunglasses and a hat for the bald spot, and gets out of
his Prius. The car park, conveniently located only six blocks from
City Hall, is already filling up with businessmen, lawyers, and
politicians coming from their daily commute. Walking out of the
darkly lit place smelling of an oil, tire, and new paint aroma, he
buys the daily newspaper at one of the kiosks near the pedestrian
entrance to the building. Reading the paper on his way to work at
City Hall, he is surprised to read about the virus in China.
Didn't we halt all trade out of California's ports? How did it
get there?
Reading about the Chinese authorities suspecting the
transfer of EWK-1 by cargo ship, and the rapid spread of the
epizootic on the Chinese Mainland, LaJoy began thinking about how
much larger the problem of agricultural disruption would be to the
Chinese, when EWK-1 ran its course. Another problem to worry about-
as if the increasing robberies of food items and McCarthy's
ridiculous request for a few National Guard troops wasn't making
the situation hectic enough.

Then he read the shocking news: humans were being
affected, after thousands are hospitalized and dozens die after
exposure to what is presumed to be the same virus.
Uh-oh.
Thats bad. And why hasn't that happened here yet? EWK-1 was
first found here, why don't we have people sick and dying?
Making a mental note to get the scientists at UCLA to give him an
answer, and start developing a vaccine against whatever flu was
making its way in China right now, LaJoy continued flipping through
the pages.
Mired into the paper, LaJoy barely functioning peripheral vision
didn't pick up the van speeding by a bus half a block away.
Stepping off the curve even as the pedestrian crossing sign turns
red, LaJoy inadvertently walks into the path of the speeding hunk
of metal. The driver sees LaJoy and attempts a small swerve, which
does little as the van is hemmed in by cars on all sides. LaJoy is
pummeled into the air and lands five meters from the collision
point. He doesn't move, as some passerby yell for an ambulance
while another rushes from the sidewalk to help the fallen USDA
official. A policeman runs towards the crosswalk, halting all
incoming traffic, hoping for the best but prepared for the worst. .
.