The Viral Epiphany (3 page)

           
Dan smiled.
 
“Thank you for the offer, Stephen.
 
I am very flattered, but my interest is only theoretical and is strictly limited to nonlinear mathematical analysis of the DNA.”

           
“Really?”

           
“Yes, I am working on an experimental technique that, hopefully, would be able to predict the evolution of the mammoth genome and demonstrate how the mammoths have morphed into the elephants we have today.
 
The mathematical technique, that also employs advanced nonsymmetrical methods, if successful, would have many other applications.”

           
“I see,” Stephen replied, not really understanding why Dan would want to do such research.

           
“I also plan to select a grad student to work with the actual mammoth sample. I expect he or she might be able to create a great thesis project with it.”

           
Stephen momentarily gaped in surprise at Dan’s answer; then he quickly looked back toward the mammoth to conceal the expression on his face.
Have a grad student work with the mammoth material?
he thought.
What the hell is wrong with him? Doesn’t he get it? This is the find of the century, if not the find of all time!
 
Then he turned back to Dan.

           
“Yes, yes. Of course, Dan,” he said, “good idea, let’s get out of here, OK?
 
This is too cold for me!”
 
He held the door for Dan as they walked out and as he closed it he took one last, long look at the mammoth.

Dan, you are so foolish,
he said to himself,
you have no idea of the opportunity you have let slip away!…That’s all right; I don’t need you anyway.
 
I know I can do it by myself,
he said to himself with a slight nod,
I know I can clone this animal!

           
A world away from the frozen wastes of Siberia, a solitary vulture glided over the Malaysian jungle canopy, then slowly turned and flapped its wings.
 
It was in no hurry for there had been plenty to eat, and as it looked down from its circular orbit it knew there would soon be much more.

           
Chuck Dering stopped his Land Rover in the middle of the muddy road and watched the vulture until it disappeared beyond the trees.
 
Taking a dirt-smeared handkerchief from his pocket he again wiped the sweat from his face.
 
Then he turned to his partner, Jim Burton.
 
“Looks like we’re getting close to the village.”

           
Jim studied the blinking display on his portable GPS unit for a minute before he replied.
 
The handheld device had a pale blue, waterproof, plastic cover with an embossed logo of the United Nations and the acronym UNAPS – the United Nations Agency for Population Safety.
 
The agency had been created several years before following the catastrophic epidemics and wars of Northern Africa that had eliminated almost half the population of that region.
 
UNAPS was now a worldwide first responder with a charter to go into regions where disease is rampant.
 
One division of UNAPS, made up of doctors and nurses, provided acute medical care, but Chuck and Jim were members of a different division called First Strike.
 
They were microbiologists, specialists in viral and bacterial genetics, and their mission was to obtain samples of extremely virulent disease organisms, particularly when it appeared that there might be an outbreak of a new disease.

           
“My guess is that it’s about a mile further up the river,” Jim said.

           
The red dirt road ran parallel to a small river, the
Sungei Hitam
, that was not noted on most maps. They were traveling to an
orang asli
village called
Kampong Ulu Hitam
in response to an urgent message sent the previous day by an official of the Malaysian health authority.
 
An extremely virulent disease had broken out several days ago that the authorities thought had been dengue hemorrhagic fever, but now the officials weren’t so sure.
 
Dengue hemorrhagic fever is endemic in the jungles of Malaysia and is known to often be fatal. But this was different.
 
So far fifteen people had died in only five days, and yes, hemorrhagic fever is very deadly, but this seemed to be an excessive toll for a village of only about a hundred people.

           
Chuck continued driving on the narrow jungle road, all four wheels often spinning a few moments in the slippery mud before catching a grip on a buried rock.
 
Steamy wisps of humid air rose from the mud in the morning sun.
 
Off to the side, light filtered through the trees and undergrowth and dense shade seemed to dominate in all directions, only occasionally penetrated by a brilliant shaft of sunlight from above.
 
Jim stared into the passing forest looking at the soft earthen floor, noting the usual moss and ferns, but he was really looking for something else – pools of standing water.
 
There were none.
 
The forest seemed relatively dry today; not a good breeding ground for mosquitoes, the carrier of dengue fever.

           
Thirty minutes, and then an hour passed as they wound through the forest.
 
Then, suddenly, there was a clearing.
 
Bright sunlight filled the space and in the distance, beyond the wavy refractions of the rising air they saw the thatched roofs of the small village.
 
But it was the area just before the houses that caught Chuck’s eye.

           
“Look at that, Jim,” he said, pointing his finger at a large expanse of green, “Rice.”

           
“Sure is.”

           
“There’s the standing water we’ve been looking for.”

           
The
orang asli,
the native people of the jungles, did not traditionally grow rice but had led lives as hunter-gatherers.
 
Over the past fifty years the government had made efforts to civilize them and many groups had become farmers.
 
This group, one of the most remote that inhabited the great Malaysian rain forest, had recently begun trying to cultivate rice.
 
None of them had thought they were also creating a nurturing soup for the carriers of a disease that would rise in the shades of the evening twilight and steal into their homes on dark, drifting currents of air.

           
The large community building in the center of the village had been hurriedly transformed into a hospital and now housed six patients, all suffering from severe hemorrhaging from all their body orifices.
 
A Malaysian medical team was quietly attending the sick people, but as usual with hemorrhagic fever, most of the cases would prove fatal.
 
Chuck and Jim walked into the building and were met by the leader of the team, Dr. Krishna Govin.
 

           
“Thank you for coming so quickly,” he said, “I only recently sent out our distress message.”

           
“Oh, that’s our normal response, doctor.
 
UNAPS always has teams on standby, ready to be dispatched at a moment’s notice in cases like yours,” Jim replied.
 
“It looks like you have a very serious outbreak on your hands. Do you think it’s something other than the usual dengue hemorrhagic fever?”

           
“At first I thought it was the usual type of hemorrhagic fever that we see now and then,” he replied, “but I’ve never seen it progress so fast as this before. I think it has already killed at least fifteen per cent of the people and it shows no sign of abatement!
 
This is most unusual and I am believing that it must be something else.
 
Otherwise, how can it be that so many are dying so soon?”

           
“How many patients do you have?”

           
“There are six in hospital, but there are eight others from the village that are missing.
 
These are people who live a bit away from the main group of houses.
 
No one has seen them for days and we are not sure of their condition, but everyone is afraid to go and search for them because they think the spirits of the jungle cause the disease.”

           
Jim recalled the vulture he had seen earlier but said nothing.

           
“Did you ask for a UNAPS medical team to come too?”

           
“Medical team?
 
You are the medical team, aren’t you?"

           
Chuck glanced at Jim.
 
“No, we’re not. We’re disease investigators. We just want to collect some samples.”

           
“You are not doctors?”

           
“No.”

           
Dr. Govin stared at Chuck, then at Jim.
 
His face remained passive but his shoulders stiffened slightly as he looked at each of them.
 
He looked past them for a moment and stared at the UN logo on their vehicle.
 
Then he sighed.

           
“Very well, gentlemen. Proceed with whatever you have been asked to do.
 
I must get back to my patients.” Dr. Govin started to turn away.

           
“OK, we’ll get some blood samples and start our analysis.
 
Meanwhile, has anyone tried to do anything about the mosquitoes that are breeding in the rice fields?”

           
Dr. Govin stopped and turned back to Chuck, a look of resignation on his face.

           
“A team is arriving later today. They will torch all the rice and spray DDT throughout the village later tonight.
 
That should take care of the mosquitoes for a while.”

Within two hours Jim and Chuck had taken blood samples from all the infected villagers and began the process of searching for the
virus. Their portable mass spectrometer would detect sequences of viral genes that would clearly indicate whether this was the usual dengue hemorrhagic fever or something new – maybe an even more vicious mutation.

They soon had their first results.
 
“Same old thing,” Chuck said after looking at the display.

“Same thing?
 
Are you sure?
 
Then how can it be so much more virulent?” Jim replied.

“I don’t know.
 
Maybe it’s something about the
orang asli
immune systems.
 
I don’t think we have studied their population group before. Could be they are more susceptible than other people to the disease.”

“Could be, I suppose, but that’s not our problem.
 
UNAPS just wants us to find diseases that have truly massive killing potential, and this isn’t it.
 
It’ll burn itself out way too fast. Well, let’s send the results to UNAPS anyway, and let them make their own decisions.”

“You bet,” Chuck said and he began typing into the portable computer. A few minutes later he said, “OK. I just sent the results to New York. We’re done here.
 
Let’s get packed up!” As he closed up the computer case he felt a slight irritation on his neck. Instinctively, he slapped at the area and then he looked at the palm of his hand.
 
It held the remains of a splattered, bloody mosquito.

“Damn.”

Jim looked at him but said nothing for several seconds.
 
Then, “Didn’t you put on your repellent?” he asked.

“Course I did,” Chuck said still staring at his palm.

“It might not be a carrier, Chuck.”

Chuck looked directly at Jim for several seconds.
 
“Yeh.
 
Maybe not… Damn.”

Within an hour they had packed their gear and had a final, very brief, meeting with the beleaguered head of the Malaysian medical team.

“I’m sorry we can’t help you any more,” Jim said, “as you know there is no cure for the disease.”
 
He turned to look at Chuck who was staring, transfixed, at the dying patients.
 
“It just has to burn itself out like it always does.
 
I think that the eradication of the rice crops will help a lot.”

“You mean that you can’t do anything for us?”

“No.
 
But anyway we have at least confirmed that we don’t have an outbreak of an unknown disease here.
 
So I guess that is some good news.”

“Yes, well please excuse me,” Doctor Govin said, unable to disguise the disappointment in his voice, “I must tend to my patients.”
 
Another man, seemingly dissolving in a pool of blood, was breathing his last breaths and someone had to be there to ease his suffering.
 
There was nothing else that could be done.

Chuck and Jim left Doctor Govin’s office and walked across the dirt parking lot to their truck.
 
As they got into the vehicle Chuck said, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”