The Atlantis Prophecy

PART TWO 14

INSIDE A SECRET ROOM in the Capitol, Max Seavers sat before congressional leaders with officials from the intelligence community and Health and Human Services. Three years ago, as the Chairman and CEO of SeaGen Labs, he had told this same group that a bird flu pandemic could one day kill millions of Americans. This morning, as the head of DARPA, he was there to announce that that day had come.

"This was taken yesterday from a village in the northeastern province of Liaoning in China," he said, wrapping up his confidential briefing with a slide stamped "top secret" across the bottom.

The slide showed Chinese health officials in protective gear burning the bodies of men, women, and children outside a poultry farm.

"As you can see, our intel raises serious questions about Chinese disclosure of the spread of bird flu among their population. They want nothing to cloud the upcoming Olympic Games next month. And they have already warned us that any attempt to publicize our concerns will be taken as a political act to undermine the Games and international relations. Unfortunately, by then it will be too late. Worse, the Games themselves, with people attending from all over the world, may prove to be the ultimate launching platform for a global pandemic when they go back home."

Seavers moved on to his next slide. It was a grainy black and white.

"The Spanish flu pandemic of 1918, which was a form of bird flu, killed fifty million people. The new H5N1 mutation is far more dangerous today, targeting adults in the prime of life, and killing more than half of those it infects. No one in the world is immune, putting all six billion of the planet's human population at risk."

Senator Joseph Scarborough, the chairman of the committee, turned red with anger. He peered down his glasses at the man seated next to Seavers, an official from the Centers for Disease Control and demanded, "And what the hell is the CDC going to do about this?"

"The messy medical reality is that people can spread flu a full day before they show symptoms," the official said, meekly tap-dancing around the fact that "nothing" was his real answer. "So even shutting U.S. borders against an outbreak at the Beijing Games offers no reassurance that a super-strain isn't already incubating here. Should an outbreak hit American shores, the best we can do is limit international flights, quarantine exposed travelers, and restrict movement around the country. That could slow the virus' spread and give us time to dispense our stockpiles of the SeaGen super-vaccine to limit the inevitable economic and social chaos."

The senator now fixed his gaze on Seavers. "I thought the SeaGen vaccine wasn't designed to fight this new strain."

"On the contrary, we've always known that human-to-human contact of the virus would one day be widespread. But advance preparation is always iffy because a vaccine developed to combat today's bird flu may be ineffective against tomorrow's mutation. SeaGen's smart vaccine solves that problem with its ability to 'dial up' or 'dial down' certain genes, modulating the immune system to combat whatever mutation the virus assumes."

"And how exactly does your vaccine 'dial down' a person's immune system?"

"Through a microbiobot inside the vaccine that can receive instructions via wi-fi signals."

"You mean from outside the body?"

"Yes, sir."

"What if somebody doesn't have the flu, Dr. Seavers? Could signals from the outside instruct this 'biobot' to dial down targeted genes?"

"Theoretically, I suppose, yes, but the chance-"

"Goddamn it, Seavers. You people did it again. You took federal dollars to develop a vaccine to save lives and instead you weaponized it. Now you want to give it to every American."

"Not yet," Seavers said. "The first step is to inoculate first responders. To keep a country's basic infrastructure working in the event of a pandemic, an estimated 10 percent of the population must be inoculated-including all doctors, nurses, police, and other emergency personnel-as soon as the virus strain is identified and the first batch of vaccine becomes available."

"Is that all?"

"And I'd want mandatory vaccinations of armed personnel and elected officials as well, since a pandemic could disrupt government and render the Twenty-sixth Amendment useless. If need be, we can scale up to the general population once the bird flu lands in the U.S."

Max Seavers and Joseph Scarborough stared at each other, the silence in the chamber thick. Behind the tension was the complexity of a symbiotic relationship in which Scarborough held the purse strings for the Pentagon while the Pentagon's contractors underwrote Scarborough's reelection campaign and lifestyle. Seavers often found it hard to tell when Scarborough was posturing for effect or genuinely incensed.

"As a former Boy Scout, 'be prepared' was my motto growing up," the senator said, and Seavers felt he was on the verge of getting what he had come for today. "As a senator, that sentiment rings true even…"

Seavers's BlackBerry, on silence mode, vibrated.

He glanced down at the text message. It was an official alert from the Capitol Police. The subject line read: 10:45 a.m.: "Subject: An Emergency Exists for the Capitol Building-Evacuate Building Importance: High."

Seavers could see vibrating phones throughout the chamber jumping on tables. Almost simultaneously, the doors to the chamber opened and Capitol Police officers rushed in from the corridor to direct people toward the exits.

He looked at Scarborough. The Senator, who hated being cut off by anyone or anything, stood up with a scowl and left the chamber.

As Seavers and the rest were hustled down the corridor after the senators, he saw the incoming Haz-Mat teams in protective gear and clicked the message header on his BlackBerry for details:

This is a message from the U.S. Capitol Police. If you are in the Capitol Building, then evacuate. Chemical sensors detect a biotoxin threat. Haz-Mat teams are responding.

If nearby, grab Go-Kits and personal belongings. Close doors behind you, but do not lock. Remain calm. Await further instructions outside. Do not remain in the building.

Seavers heard a loud whine and a thud and looked up. They were shutting the ventilation system down to prevent the spread of any biotoxins.

He tugged at the multisensor badge on his lapel. Developed by the counter-bioterrorism group at DARPA, the badge could detect the presence of biotoxins in the atmosphere in real time. That's because DARPA was able to package dozens of photothermal micro-spectroscopy procedures onto a single microchip, including the electrokinetic focusing of bioparticles. Durable, lightweight, and with no external power requirement, this "lab in a badge" provided an immediate visual indication of the presence of any contaminants.

Except there were no contaminants, according to his sensor.

Outside on the east lawn of the Capitol, Senator Scarborough was waiting for him, his face red and puffy.

Scarborough said, "This sure as hell better not be some stunt you're pulling to convince us to go ahead with your program, Seavers."

"Absolutely not, Mr. Senator," Seavers replied hotly. As a billionaire he hated begging for federal funding or agency approval, especially from politicians. They were worse than his private equity investors. "And I don't think there's anything to worry about."

"Why the hell not?"

"My sensor says so." He handed the senator his bio-detector.

Scarborough turned it over in his hands and glanced at Seavers with the faintest hint of respect. "Maybe I should have one."

"I think you should. I think all senators should, along with a shot of the SeaGen vaccine."

Scarborough grumbled something about waving the white flag and walked off toward a cluster of his staffers who were waiting for him by a police barricade.

Seavers looked at his badge detector again. There was nothing, absolutely nothing in the air that was deadly, not even in trace amounts.

He looked back at the building. False alarms happened all the time in Washington, D.C. But something felt wrong as he paced outside the Capitol's east entrance. Beyond the police barricades, rows of news vans crammed the street, and he could hear the reporters breathlessly blathering on about nothing. There was little to report so far. Everybody was standing around talking or watching the Haz-Mat teams enter the building and people coming out: senators, staffers, and Serena Serghetti.

An alarm went off in his head, the one that never gave false readings. What was she doing here?

Then it hit him: Conrad Yeats.