“Somewhere in here, the original virus met up with a wild virus. Somebody may have died in a pool of water, or some fecal matter got into a well, or somebody tried to evacuate aboard a boat and it met up with some rodents … There's a million possibilities. At any rate, our original virus got out into the ecosystem and met its cousins. They shook hands and exchanged genetic material. All of a sudden, viruses that have been no problem for millennia can run through a body in days, kill the host, and move on. The word from All-Cradle is that these wunderkind—” Praeis had looked at him, puzzled. “It's German, it means ‘wonder children.’ We've started calling the plague viruses WKVs. These WKVs are taking down everything mammalian on the planet.” He paused and shook his head, heavy irony creeping into his voice. “It will sort itself out. A certain percentage of any given population will probably prove to be immune, and they'll breed. In a hundred thousand years, the WKVs won't bother anybody any more than the normal strains do now. But I personally am not willing to wait that long.”
There'd been a gleam in his eye and an edge to his voice as he spoke. That was what had warmed her to him. A lot of the Human doctors and researchers seemed to regard the virus, viruses, killing the colony as an interesting riddle. David treated it as an enemy, a very smart enemy to be studied and thwarted using every possible method.
But not in time to save her sister Shorie, and not in time to save her sister Jos, and not in time to save her four smallest daughters, who all lay in one bed, crying and shaking and dying of pure pain.
“Sister, are you ill? Do you need to register?” A concerned voice broke Praeis out of her memories. “Are you looking for family?”
A pair of sisters faced her, with their ears tilted forward and quivering a little, although whether it was from concern or simple weariness, Praeis couldn't tell. Filter masks covered their faces and rubber gloves covered their hands up to their elbows. Their overalls were cheap and obviously meant to be worn for a short time and then disposed of, possibly burned.
Praeis's skin shook from her shoulders to her ankles. “No, no, thank you. I am looking for a Human care-taker, Dr. David Zelotes. I am Praeis Shin t'Theria, representative of the Queens-of-All.”
The sisters looked at each other in astonishment. Praeis wondered how long it had been since a Queens’ representative had walked in here. A spasm of anger crossed her shoulders.
“She will be in the laboratory,” said the broader of the two. “I will take you. My sister must stay on patrol.”
“Of course.” Praeis dipped her ears. “The Ancestors alone cannot watch our sisters.”
Praeis followed the care-taker through a side door that led to a white corridor smelling of warmth and yet more disinfectant. This was a Human-constructed section of the budding. It had the seamless look of something grown rather than something built. They passed a number of small, windowed laboratories on the right-hand side. Inside the labs, Humans wearing white overalls over their clean-suits wielded pipettes and needles over glass eggs of culture media, filter dishes of layered ceramics, and even old-fashioned microscopes they must have appropriated from the larger hospital.
In the last lab, David, his clean-suit covered by the loose, blue tunic and trousers that seemed to be the traditional uniform of Human doctors, stared at a portable screen displaying what looked like a fuzzy cluster of fat, grey-and-white springs. The care-taker tapped on the window and David jerked around. He saw Praeis, waved, and held up one finger.
Praeis watched him type something on his keypad. Res and Theia had not asked why she wanted to see David rather than a t'Therian care-taker, and she was glad. She did not want to have to tell them it was because David, with his Human reserve, could be counted on not to talk about what he saw.
In the lab, David picked up a couple of the glass eggs and carried them over to a storage locker, placed them inside, and latched the door firmly shut.
“Praeis Shin t'Theria,” said David as he stepped through the laboratory door and shut it behind himself. “Lynn said you might be able to come by to lend us a hand.”
“I'll see what I can do, but I also need your help,” said Praeis.
David nodded. “I can't let you in the lab, but we've rigged an examination room over here.” He gestured up the corridor.
The care-taker left them, and David led Praeis down to the end of the corridor.
“I had no idea it was this bad,” said Praeis softly.
David shook his head ruefully. “You should have seen it when we got here. God,” his voice dropped to a harsh whisper. He opened the door to the examining room and stood aside for her to enter.