The Atlantis Plague (The Origin Mystery, #2)(19)
“It’s a lie,” Kate said flatly.
“Yes, it’s a lie, but the media repeated it, and a lie repeated becomes perception, and perception is reality. Perception is also very hard to change. When the plague went global, everyone wanted someone to blame. You were the first story and, for many reasons, the best story.”
“The best story?”
“Think about it. A supposedly deranged woman, working alone, creating a virus to infect the world and accomplish her own delusional goals? It’s a lot less scary than the alternatives: an organized conspiracy, or the worst possibility—a natural occurrence, something that could happen anywhere, anytime. All the alternatives are ongoing threats. The world doesn’t need an ongoing threat. They need a crazy lone gunman, presumed dead. Or better yet, captured and punished. The world is a desperate place; catching and killing a villain puts a win on the board and gives everyone a little more hope that we might get through this.”
“What about the truth?” Kate said as she handed him the tube with her blood.
Martin dropped the tube into the top of the thermos. “You think anyone would believe it? That the Immari dug up an ancient structure, hundreds of thousands of years old, below Gibraltar, and that the device guarding it unleashed a global pandemic? It’s the truth, but it’s farfetched, even for fiction. Most people have a very limited imagination.”
Kate rubbed the bridge of her nose. She had spent her adult life doing autism research, trying to make a difference. Now she was public enemy number one. Fantastic.
“That’s why you hid me in the spa building.”
“Yes. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you. There was nothing you could do about it. I’ve been negotiating for your safe passage and safekeeping. I just finalized a deal two days ago.”
“A deal?”
“The British have agreed to take you,” Martin said. “We’ll meet up with their team in a few hours.”
At that moment, Kate couldn’t help but glance at the sleeping boys in the pew.
“The boys will go with you,” Martin added quickly.
Hearing that Martin had a plan, that they would be safe soon, seemed to drain half the fear and tension from her. Her aching muscles hurt a little less and the weight of knowing that the whole world blamed her for the plague faded, if ever so slightly. She ran a hand through her hair. “Why Britain?”
“My top choice would be Australia, but we’re too far away. The UK is closer, and probably just as safe. Continental Europe will likely fall to the Immari. The British will hold out to the very end. They have before. You’ll be safe there.”
“What did you trade them?”
Martin stood and held the bottle of hair dye up. “Come on, time for your makeover.”
“You’ve promised them a cure. That’s what you traded for my safety.”
“Somebody has to get the cure first, Kate. Now come on. We don’t have a lot of time.”
CHAPTER 20
Immari Corporate Research Campus
Outside Nuremberg, Germany
Dr. Nigel Chase stared through the wide glass picture window into the clean room. The mysterious silver case sat upright on the table, glimmering, reflecting the room’s bright lights. The team from Antarctica had delivered the strange case an hour ago, and Nigel had learned nothing about it so far.
It was time to run some experiments, time to start guessing. He carefully nudged the joystick. The robotic arm inside the clean room jerked wildly, almost knocking the case off the steel table. He would never get the hang of this. It was like that silly contraption at the grocery store where you fed it a quarter and tried to fish out a stuffed animal. That never worked either. He wiped the sweat from his brow and thought for a moment. Maybe he didn’t need to turn the case. He would just use the arm to move the equipment.
“You want me to try?” Harvey, his lab assistant, asked.
Nigel loved his sister Fiona dearly, almost as much as he regretted taking on her son Harvey as his lab assistant. But she wanted Harvey out of the house, and he needed a bloody job for that.
“No, Harvey. Thank you, though. Run get me a Coke Light, would you?”
Fifteen minutes later, Nigel had repositioned the equipment, and Harvey still hadn’t returned with his Coke Light.
Nigel programmed the computer to begin a round of radiation bombardment, then sat back in the chair and stared through the window, waiting for the results.
“They were out of Coke Light. I checked every machine in the building.” Harvey held out a can. “I got you a regular Coke.”
For a second Nigel considered telling Harvey that another light drink would have been the logical course of action, but the boy had made a good effort, and that went a long way. “Thanks, Harvey.”
“Any luck?”
“No,” Nigel said as he cracked the can and sipped the caramel liquid that splashed onto his hand.
The computer beeped, and a dialog filled the screen.
Incoming data.
Nigel set the drink down quickly and leaned in to study the screen. If the readings were correct, the box was emitting neutrinos—a subatomic particle that resulted from radioactive decay and nuclear reactions in the sun and nuclear reactors. How could they be here?
Then the readings flashed red and the neutrino readings slowly ticked down to zero.