Invasion

  “What could have caused it?” Cassy whispered.

  “You’re asking me?” Pitt questioned. “I’m not even sure it happened. It was only for an instant.”

  “But we both saw it,” Cassy said.

  It took another twenty minutes for the owner and the woman to come to an agreement. After the woman and her friend had left, Pitt asked the owner about the black discs.

  “What do you want to know?” the man said morosely. He’d only gotten half the value of the ashtray.

  “Do you know what they are?” Cassy asked.

  “I haven’t the slightest idea.”

  “How much do you sell them for?”

  “In the beginning I got as much as ten dollars,” the man said. “But that was a day or so ago. Now they’re coming out of the woodwork, and the market’s been flooded. But I’ll tell you what. These happen to be exceptional quality. I’ll sell you all six for ten dollars.”

  “Have any of these discs injured anyone else?” Pitt asked.

  “Well, one of them stung me too,” he said. He shrugged. “But it was nothing: just a pinprick. Yet I couldn’t figure out how it happened.” He picked up one of the discs. “I mean they’re as smooth as a baby’s bottom.”

  Pitt took Cassy’s arm and began to lead her away. The man called after them. “Hey, how about eight dollars.”

  Pitt ignored him. Instead he told Cassy about the little girl in the ER who had been scolded by her mother for saying that a black rock had bitten her.

  “Do you think it had been one of those discs?” Cassy asked.

  “That’s what I’m wondering,” Pitt said. “Because she had the flu. That’s why she was in the ER.”

  “Are you suggesting the black disc had something to do with her getting the flu?”

  “I know it sounds crazy,” Pitt said. “But that was the sequence with Beau. He got stung, then hours later he got sick.”

  11

  9:15 A.M.

  “WHEN DID YOU HEAR ABOUT THIS RANDY NITE NEWS conference?” Cassy asked.

  “This morning when I was watching the Today show,” Pitt said. “The news anchor said NBC was going to be carrying it live.”

  “And they mentioned Beau’s name?”

  “That was the astounding thing,” Pitt said. “I mean, he only went out there for an interview, and now he’s part of a news conference. That’s big-time weird.”

  Cassy and Pitt were in the doctors’ lounge in the ER watching a thirteen-inch TV. Sheila Miller had called Pitt early and told him to be there and to bring Cassy. The room was called the doctors’ lounge but was used by all the ER personnel for moments of relaxation and for those who brought paper bag lunches.

  “What are we here for?” Cassy asked. “I hate to miss class.”

  “She didn’t say,” Pitt said, “but my guess is that she’s gone over Dr. Halprin’s head somehow and wants us to talk with whomever she’s contacted.”

  “Are we going to mention about last evening?” Cassy asked.

  Pitt held up his hand to quiet Cassy. The TV anchor was announcing that Randy Nite had entered the room. A moment later Randy’s familiar boyish face filled the screen.

  Before he began speaking, he turned to the side and coughed. Returning to the microphones he apologized in advance for his voice and said: “I’m just getting over a bout of the flu, so bear with me.”

  “Uh oh,” Pitt said. “He’s had it too.”

  “Now then,” Randy said. “Good morning, everyone. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Randy Nite, and I’m a software salesman.”

  Discreet laughter could be heard from the onscreen audience. While Randy paused the anchor complimented Randy’s humorous modesty; he was one of the world’s richest men, and there were few people in the industrialized nations who didn’t know of Randy Nite.

  “I have called a news conference today to announce that I am starting a new venture…truly the most exciting, most important undertaking of my life.”

  An excited murmur erupted from the TV audience. They had expected big news, and it sounded as if they weren’t to be disappointed.

  “This new venture,” Randy continued, “will be called the Institute for a New Beginning, and it will be backed by all the combined resources of Cipher Software. To describe this bold new venture, I would like to introduce a young man of tremendous vision. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my new personal assistant, Mr. Beau Stark.”

  Cassy and Pitt glanced at each other with mouths agape. “I don’t believe this,” Cassy said.

  Beau bounded onto the speaker’s platform amid applause. He was dressed in a designer suit with his dark hair slicked back from his forehead. He exuded a politician’s confidence.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Beau boomed with a charming smile. His blue eyes sparkled like sapphires in the midst of his tanned face. “The Institute for a New Beginning is aptly named. We will be seeking the best and the brightest in the fields of science, medicine, engineering, and architecture. Our aim will be to reverse the negative trends that our planet has been experiencing. We can end pollution! We can end social and political strife! We can create a world suitable for a new humankind! We can and we will!”

  The reporters present at the news conference erupted in a frenzy of questions. Beau held out his hands to quiet them.

  “We will not be entertaining questions today. The purpose of this meeting was merely to make the announcement. One week from today we will hold another news conference in which our agenda will be spelled out in detail. Thank you all for coming.”

  Despite questions shouted from the news media, Beau stepped from the speakers’ platform, embraced Randy Nite, and then the two of them, arm in arm, disappeared from view.

  The announcer then tried to fill the gap caused by the precipitous end to the news conference. He began speculating on exactly what the specific goals of the new institute would be and what Randy Nite meant when he said that the venture would be backed by all the combined resources of Cipher Software. He pointed out that those resources were substantial, more than the GNP of many countries.

  “My God! Pitt,” Cassy said. “What’s going on with Beau?”

  “My guess is that his interview went okay,” Pitt said, trying to be funny.

  “This isn’t a laughing matter,” Cassy said. “I’m getting more and more scared. What are we going to tell Dr. Miller?”

  “For the moment I think we’ve told her enough,” Pitt said.

  “Come on!” Cassy complained. “We have to tell her about what we saw last night and about the little black discs. We have to…”

  “Cassy, hold on,” Pitt said, taking her by the shoulders. “Think for a second how this is going to sound to her. She’s our one chance to get someone important to take notice of what’s going on. I don’t think we should push it.”

  “But all she knows right now is that there’s this strange flu,” Cassy said.

  “That’s exactly my point,” Pitt said. “We’ve got her attention about the flu and that it seems to cause personality changes. I’m worried if we start talking about far-out stuff like the flu being spread by tiny black discs, or even worse, seeing a fleeting blue light in someone’s finger after it had been stung by a black disc, they’ll not listen to us. She already threatened to send us to psychiatry.”

  “But we saw the blue light,” Cassy said.

  “We think we saw it,” Pitt said. “Look, we have to get people involved first. Once they’ve investigated this flu and know something strange is going on, then we tell them everything.”

  The door opened and Sheila stuck in her head. “The man I want you two to talk with just arrived,” she said. “But he was hungry, and I sent him down to the cafeteria. Let’s move into my office so that we’ll be prepared for him when he gets back.”

  Cassy and Pitt got to their feet and followed Sheila.

  “ALL RIGHT, YOU TWO,” NANCY SELLERS SAID TO JONATHAN and Candee. “I want you to wait here in
the van while I go in and talk to Candee’s mom. Sound reasonable?”

  Both Jonathan and Candee nodded.

  “I really appreciate this, Mrs. Sellers,” Candee said.

  “You don’t have to thank me,” Nancy said. “Just the fact that your parents were too busy to talk on the phone last night when I called and chose not to call back tells me something is seriously wrong. I mean they didn’t even know you stayed over.”

  Nancy alighted from the van, waved to the kids, and started out toward the front entrance of Serotec Pharmaceuticals. She could still see the stain on the sidewalk where poor Mr. Kalinov had impacted the concrete. She hadn’t known the man well since he was a relatively new employee and was in the biochemistry department, but the news had saddened her. She knew he had a family with two teenage daughters.

  Entering the building, Nancy wondered what to expect. After the death the day before she was unsure how the whole establishment would be functioning. A memorial service was scheduled for that afternoon. But she immediately sensed that everything was already back to routine.

  The accounting department was on the fourth floor, and as she rode up in the crowded elevator, she overheard normal conversation. There was even laughter. At first it made Nancy feel relieved that people had taken the episode in stride. But when the whole car burst into laughter about a comment Nancy hadn’t heard well enough to understand, she began to feel uncomfortable. The joviality seemed disrespectful.

  Nancy found Joy Taylor with ease. As one of the more senior people she had her own office. When Nancy walked through the open door, Joy was busy at her computer terminal. As Nancy had remembered, she was a mousy person about Nancy’s size although much thinner. Nancy guessed that Candee took after her father.

  “Excuse me,” Nancy called out.

  Joy looked up. Her pinched features registered momentary irritation at being disturbed. Then her expression warmed and she smiled.

  “Hello,” Joy said. “How have you been?”

  “Just fine,” Nancy said. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember me. I’m Nancy Sellers. My son Jonathan and your daughter Candee are classmates.”

  “Of course I remember you,” Joy said.

  “Terrible tragedy yesterday,” Nancy said while she thought about how to bring up the issues she wanted to discuss.

  “Yes and no,” Joy said. “Certainly for the family, but I happen to know that Mr. Kalinov had serious kidney disease.”

  “Oh?” Nancy questioned. The comment confused her.

  “Oh yes,” Joy said. “He’d been on weekly dialysis for years. There was talk of a transplant. It was bad genes. His brother had the same problem.”

  “I hadn’t heard about his medical problems,” Nancy said.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” Joy asked.

  “Yes, there is,” Nancy said, taking a seat. “Well, it’s more that I wanted to talk with you. I’m sure it’s not serious, but I felt I should at least mention it to you. I’d want you to do the same for me if Jonathan had come to you.”

  “Candee came to you?” Joy asked. “About what?”

  “She’s upset,” Nancy said. “And frankly, so am I.”

  Nancy noticed a slight hardening of Joy’s features.

  “What did Candee say she was upset about?” Joy asked.

  “She feels that things have changed at home,” Nancy said. “For one thing she said that you and your husband are suddenly doing a lot of entertaining. It’s made her feel insecure. Apparently some people have even wandered into her bedroom.”

  “We have been entertaining,” Joy said. “Both my husband and I have recently become very active in environmental causes. It requires work and sacrifice, but we’re willing to do both. Perhaps you’d like to come to our meeting tonight.”

  “Thanks, but some other time,” Nancy said.

  “Just let me know when,” Joy said. “But now I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “Just a moment longer,” Nancy said. The conversation was going poorly. Joy was not being receptive despite Nancy’s diplomatic efforts. It was time for more candor. “My son and your daughter also got the impression that you were encouraging them to sleep together. I’d like you to know that I don’t agree with this at all. In fact I’m adamantly against it.”

  “But they are healthy and their genes are well matched,” Joy said.

  Nancy struggled to remain calm. She’d never heard such a ridiculous statement. Nancy could not understand Joy’s casual attitude about such an issue, especially with the burgeoning problem of teen pregnancy. Just as aggravating was Joy’s equanimity in the face of Nancy’s obvious agitation.

  “Jonathan and Candee do make a cute couple,” Nancy forced herself to say. “But they are only seventeen and hardly ready for the responsibilities of adult life.”

  “If that is how you feel I will be happy to respect it,” Joy said. “But my husband and I feel that there are a lot more pressing issues, like the destruction of the rain forest.”

  Nancy had had enough. It was plain to her that she was not going to have a rational conversation with Joy Taylor. She stood up. “Thank you for your time,” she said stiffly. “My only recommendation is that perhaps you might pay a little more attention to your daughter’s state of mind. She is upset.”

  Nancy turned to leave.

  “Just a moment,” Joy said.

  Nancy hesitated.

  “You seem to be extremely anxious,” Joy said. “I think I can help you.” She pulled out the top drawer of her desk and gingerly lifted out a black disc. Placing it in the palm of her hand, she extended it toward Nancy. “Here’s a little present for you.”

  Nancy was already convinced that Joy Taylor was more than a little eccentric, and this unsolicited proffering of a talisman just added to the impression. Nancy leaned over to take a closer look. She had no idea what the strange object was.

  “Take it,” Joy encouraged.

  Out of curiosity Nancy reached for the object. But then she thought better of it and withdrew her hand. “Thank you,” she said, “but I think I should just leave.”

  “Take it,” Joy urged. “It will change your life.”

  “I like my life as it is,” Nancy said. Then she turned and walked out of Joy’s office. As she descended in the elevator she marveled over the conversation she’d just had. It wasn’t anything like she’d expected. And now she had to worry about what she was going to tell Candee. Jonathan, of course, was a different story. She’d tell him to stay the hell away from the Taylor residence.

  THE DOOR TO DR. MILLER’S OFFICE OPENED AND BOTH Pitt and Cassy got to their feet. A balding yet relatively youthful man walked into the room ahead of Dr. Miller. He was dressed in a nondescript, wrinkled gray suit. Rimless glasses were perched on the end of a broad nose.

  “This is Dr. Clyde Horn,” Sheila said to Cassy and Pitt. “He’s an epidemiological investigative officer from the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta. He works specifically for the influenza branch.”

  Clyde was introduced to Pitt and Cassy in turn.

  “You two are the youngest-looking residents I think I’ve ever seen,” Clyde commented.

  “I’m not a resident,” Pitt said. “In fact I’m only starting medical school in the fall.”

  “And I’m a student teacher,” Cassy said.

  “Oh, I see,” Clyde said, but he was obviously confused.

  “Pitt and Cassy are here to put the problem in a personal perspective,” Sheila said as she motioned for Clyde to take a seat.

  They all sat down.

  Sheila then made a presentation of the influenza cases that they had been seeing in the emergency room. She had some charts and graphs which she showed to Clyde. The most impressive was the one that showed the rapid increase in the number of cases over the previous three days. The second most impressive dealt with the number of deaths of people with the same symptoms associated with various chronic disease like diabetes, cancer, kidney problems, rheumatoid arthri
tis, and liver ailments.

  “Have you been able to determine the strain?” Clyde asked. “When you spoke with me on the phone, that had yet to be done.”

  “It still isn’t done,” Sheila said. “In fact we still haven’t isolated the virus.”

  “That’s curious,” Clyde said.

  “The only thing we have consistently seen is marked elevation of lymphokines in the blood,” Sheila said. She handed Clyde another chart.

  “Oh my, these are high titers,” Clyde said. “And you said the symptoms are all typical flu.”

  “Yes,” Sheila said. “Just more intense than usual, and generally localizing in the upper respiratory tract. We’ve seen no pneumonia.”

  “It certainly has stimulated the immune systems,” Clyde said as he continued to study the lymphokine chart.

  “The course of the illness is quite short,” Sheila said. “In contrast to normal influenza, it reaches a peak in only hours, like five or six. Within twelve hours the patients are apparently well.”

  “Even better than they were before the illness,” Pitt said.

  Clyde wrinkled his forehead. “Better?” he questioned.

  Sheila nodded. “It is true,” she said. “Once recovered the patients exhibit a kind of euphoria with increased energy levels. The disturbing aspect is that many also behave as if they have had a personality change. And that is why Pitt and Cassy are here. They have a mutual friend who they insist is acting like a different person subsequent to his recovery. His case may be particularly important because he might have been the first person to get this particular illness.”

  “Have there been any neurological workups done?” Clyde asked.

  “Indeed,” Sheila said. “On a number of patients. But everything was normal including cerebrospinal fluid.”

  “What about the friend, whatever his name,” Clyde said.

  “His name is Beau,” Cassy said.

  “He has not been examined neurologically,” Sheila said. “That was planned, but for the moment he’s unavailable.”