Plague Planet (The Wandering Engineer) (48 page)

Paco looked around and then shrugged, waving the tablet slightly.
The phone he slipped into his right pocket. “Here and there. I was field man,
running to one outbreak of influenza or some other virus all over the globe.
Two days ago I was in a little Yukon village up north. I finished up just as
the mail plane came in. I got the call half way here,” he said.

“Ah,” Irons said, nodding.

“I was visiting family,” Paco admitted. “Though mixing business
with pleasure, there was a minor outbreak of chicken pox too,” he said
shrugging. “So um, the drones. I heard they crashed? What happened?”

“We're not sure. Both crashed, but in different circumstances so
they may not be related,” Irons replied.

“Fast work making them,” Paco said. “Or did you have them on hand
already?” he asked, with a slight hint of suspicion in his voice.

The admiral snorted. “No, made them here,” he said, waving a hand.
“Well, the last one Hank McCoy launched from Sin City. The other was built on
my ship and dropped.”

“Oh. Hank you said? He around?” Paco asked, looking over his
shoulder. “I figured he'd be neck deep in this. He's a techy at heart. He got
into medicine but it was a sideline.”

“I see,” Irons said, taking a tray out of a replicator and then
rapidly assembling the parts into a group of other parts of another larger
replicator. When he was finished he plugged the power cable into the waiting
empty port he'd set up earlier. His infrared vision told him they were taxing
the power grid too much. He frowned. He didn't want or need an electrical fire.
He'd have to figure something out before using this machine. He could however
have it run a POST check.

“So, um, they crashed. Pity they didn't have shields or
something,” Paco said, still trying to understand everything he was seeing
around him. The admiral's display of rapid assembly had him a little dazed. He
didn't know people could move that fast. He shrugged. “Silly me, I guess you
can't make them.”

“Oh I can make them, but we're on a time crunch. Besides, why make
shields for something we're going to destroy anyway? It's a waste of time and
resources. Both we have in short supply,” Irons replied, and then turned to the
doctor.

The doctor stared at him. “What?” the admiral asked after a
moment, taking the tablet from the man's hands. “I'm serious, adding shields
would have added about six hours to the build time for each. It would also
force me to build bigger air frames, a power supply for the shields... do you
want a fusion reactor crashing into the countryside?” he asked. The doctor
shook his head, still staring in shock.

“I told you, I'm a Federation Engineering admiral. I can do a lot
of things with the time and materials. Get over it. We've got work to do,”
Irons said, waving a hand. He downloaded the contents of the tablet in a second
and then handed it back. “I've got this. I just downloaded it. Doctor you need
to get a staff member to deal with stuff like this and focus on simulators and
learning the skills you'll need.”

“I... yes. But there was no time and I thought...” Doctor Paco La
Plaz said.

“Here,” Irons showed him how to open an e-mail and send it. He
pointed out his e-mail address which auto filled in after a few letters. “You
can use voice address to convert voice to text, or a laser keyboard, or plug
this into a physical keyboard. Any of the three work,” he explained and handed
it back. “Please show your fellows and staff that.” He turned and sent a signal
to a replicator to initiate another tray of parts.

“I'll um, leave you alone then,” Dr. La Plaz said, feeling numb
and dazed. He wandered out after a moment.

...*...*...*...*...

When the virology lab location debate didn't stop Hank called
Helen in. She was tired, but after he explained that they were getting one
excuse after another from the locals why this site or that site was unsuitable
she sighed in exasperation.

“Look Helen, what do you want us to do? Right now Sin City is a
bus. Bust I mean, bust,” he said, looking away from the buses and people
milling about helplessly. “Do you want us to come back? Go to Gotham maybe?”

“No, I need you there. Right there.”

“Well, here isn't doing us any good, where we are at now has no
electricity or running water. It's also got an angry farmer who's rather eager
for us to get off his crop of grain,” he said, waggling his ears. The Doherty
girl was sitting on a pile of hay bales, listening to the two boys Luke and
Wally brag about big city living. He snorted.

“What was that?” Helen asked.

“Sorry, nothing. Tired,” Hank replied. He was still getting used
to the radio the admiral had given him. “So um...” He turned as a scowling
Doctor Ivanov turned away from the deputy and stormed over to him. “Uh oh, here
comes Ivan and he's not in a good mood,” he murmured.

“He's not the only one,” Helen replied tartly a moment later. “Put
him on.”

“Here,” Hank said, handing the microphone to Doctor Ivanov when he
stopped in front of the Neolion. The normally laid back virologist was rather
red in the face and it wasn't just from sunburn from being outside standing
around Hank could see. It was cooling off, but still muggy. Sweat covered the
overweight doctor, staining his clothes. He'd gotten rid of his tie and jacket
hours ago.

“This damn suit,” Ivanov complained, turning.

“We're not in the infection zone yet doctor,” Hank said.

“Eh?” Ivanov said and then shrugged. He keyed the transmit button.
“May I speak with Director Richards please?” he said carefully.

“This is Helen, Ivan what do you have?” she asked.

Ivan blinked at Hank who shrugged and flicked his ears. The big
man grunted in irritation for a moment and then cleared his throat. “The run
around madam director. I've gotten more exercise standing in place here than in
decades of sitting in front of a microscope,” he said.

“I'm guessing it's still a no?” she asked tiredly.

“In a word, yes. I mean um...”

“I know what you mean doctor,” Helen replied, sounding strident
again. “Don't they understand... You know what? Never mind. Pull up stakes and
head to Hazard City. Set up there.”

“Hazard?” Hank asked.

“Its' close, it's on the front line, and it should have all you
need. And since they're desperate and that fat commissioner has been calling me
hourly for additional support, he won't mind you setting up. He's already
promised me everything except the kitchen sink.” She sounded amused by the
usual greedy commissioner being so altruistic.

“We'll do it,” Ivanov replied, grunting. He looked at Hank. Hank
sighed.

“My old stomping grounds. Ask her where she wants me to be?”

“Doctor McCoy asks where you would like him to be,” Ivanov said
into the microphone.

“Eh? With you of course. He still has his box right?”

Hank thought about that as Ivanov's brows knit. He got it after a
second and nodded, flicking his ears and swishing his tail. “He's nodding yes,”
Ivanov said slowly. “Box?” he asked Hank.

“Later,” Hank waved a dismissive hand.

“Tell him to get power and supplies and make whatever you need as
well whatever he can. Respirators, full suits, whatever.”

“Understood,” Hank replied. He was already thinking ahead. He'd
need Nohar for security, maybe Kong...

He turned to Jerry who was nearby, squatting behind a bush. Hank
wrinkled his nose, he'd of thought the chimp would have used the outhouse but
apparently the farmer had nailed it shut an hour ago. He shook his head. He
wasn't sure if Jerry would go with them.

He turned away as Ivanov signed off and handed him the radio.
“Mount up!” the virologist growled, waving a meaty hand and then slapping his
hands together. The clop of the plastic cloth hitting each other made some of
the people turn in his direction.

“You say we don't need to wear this now?” Ivanov asked, turning.
Hank shook his head no.

“All right then,” the man said, switching his respirator off and
then unzipping the seal and popping his hood off. “I said,” he said turning.
Sweat covered his brow. “Mount up. We're headed to Hazard! Get your things and
get on the buses!” he said pointing to the vehicles.

Wally and Luke scowled, but then turned to the girl. She was a bit
forlorn, but she waved to them as they started towards the vehicles. Both boys
turned to wave back. Wally tripped on a rock but recovered. The girl giggled a
little at that sight.

Hank sighed, looking over to the chimp that was busy hitching his
britches back up. He was muttering something Hank couldn't quite catch.  From
his look though he was none too pleased with this change of events. Jerry
however didn't want to be anywhere near the damn virus lab. “I just came from
Hazard!” he exclaimed in disgust.

“So stay here,” Hank said. “I'll make a suit as soon as possible.
In fact it's the first damn thing on my list,” he said firmly.

“A suit?” Jerry asked, looking up with interest. Hank pointed to
the yellow, orange, and blue P suits the staff were checking out and trying on
or taking off. “Yellow suits are for support staff like orderlies and nurses.
Orange is for paramedics and those in constant exposure. Blue were for the
doctors. It's so we can recognize who is who by sight,” Hank explained.

“So what about you and me? And what about Wally?” he asked
pointing to the lad.

“I'll make a polka dot one just for you,” Hank replied with a
grin.

“Gee thanks,” Jerry sighed and then shrugged. “What the hell, what
are friends for right? Let's get a move on,” he said heading to the bus.

...*...*...*...*...

Director and Chief of staff didn't really begin to describe all
the duties Mr. Deli Osiris did. But one of the simplest ones was to be his
bosses eyes and ears. He might not be happy that the Oman had bailed and left
him holding the bag, but he was too much of a professional even under this much
duress to let it show. He reported to the governor and then frowned. “Currently
they have identified the first wave of viruses and are working on finding ways
to treat them.”

“Treat not kill?”

“Currently they don't have an option for that unfortunately.”

“Fire? Won't fire kill it?”

“In this instance, I asked my contact Dr. Innes. He assured me
that it would kill the surface viruses, but it would kick the airborne ones up
into the atmosphere in the smoke. They would then spread all over the world.”

“Shit,” the governor replied, voice shaky. “So that's out.”

“For now it is, unless we can find another option, a way to make
it work. I'm not sure how, but we're talking with others governor.”

“So there's no way to, I don't know, be protected? What about
those suits they're making? I want one! So does Rosanne! I'll have a tailor get
measurements... no I left him behind, um...”

“Sir, the suits offer only
limited
protection. And when
you're inside you can't eat or drink. You'd be trapped with three days of air
and no way to go to the bathroom or anything. They are primitive space suits,”
Osiris explained patiently, sounding as if he was explaining it to a child. His
patience with his boss and the situation was growing ever thinner.

“Oh.”

“There's another report, Doctor Innes mentioned to me, and I
remember Doctor Richards also mentioned that this admiral fellow is immune.”

“Immune you say? Why the nerve of that guy! How can he be immune?”

“He has vaccines I think Doctor Innes said. I'm not certain of the
technical details, it's not my field after all.”

“Quite right, quite right. Go on,” the governor said.

The chief of staff cleared his throat and fought a sigh. It was
patronizing times like this that he wanted to quit, or at least find a way to
make his boss look like the ass he was. He fought the temptation down again
before he continued. “Doctor Innes and Doctor O'Reilly said that this Irons
fellow may be our only hope of developing a vaccine.”

“Really,” the governor said. “Let me talk to Doctor Yung, my
personal physician,” he said. There was a click as the governor put him on
hold.

Mr. Osiris frowned ferociously at that little tidbit. He brought
along a doctor but not his own chief of staff? He probably tucked Emily his
current mistress too! That was, if Rosanne didn't notice, and she might of. He
could check, but decided not to bother. He took a sip of water and tried to
relax, going through his notes as he waited patiently.

“I'm back,” the governor said a few minutes later. “Hello? Osiris?
I said I'm back. You still there?” Oman demanded.

“Yes sir,” Osiris responded, not looking up from his report.

“Doctor Yung informed me that if we strip this man's blood, we
could form enough vaccine for about twenty people. More if we stretched it,
though the less the blood the less the vaccine potency. That's correct right
doctor?” he said, sounding as if he had turned away from the microphone to ask.

“Sir um...”