Sentient World

By Benjamin Vance

Science fiction, end of world scenario with few people left comfortably changing to sea creatures, some not changing at all and some having minor changes. Changes are caused by archea viruses, combined with human DNA and another ancient virus carried down through a reptile line.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9780985916886

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Sentient World

The stormy Bellingshausen Sea slammed the ‘Scientific Research Ship’ Takanami Maru again and again, as though it didn’t care one whit about the blessed men and the anciently named sea craft being tossed about on its dark foamy peaks. Periodically, the long craft would slide down a massive swell like a surfboard, and for most of the men on board it was still a small thrill.

The captain was heading the ship steadily onward, breaking lesser waves toward an area he knew would produce some choice whales and porpoises, and he didn’t care what variety he killed as long as they smelled like meat … and Yen. It was suggested he limit himself to certain types of porpoises, such as Dusky’s or Peale’s, but he knew that once they were reduced to sides and fillets, it would be almost impossible to determine what cetacean had been taken onboard and butchered. His goal was a full ship, no matter the consequences.

Once in the general area of interest, he ordered the long nets rolled out and began a slow, two kilometer circle to include any large fish and porpoise in the area. Those illegal nets and the expert harpoon gunners would ensure full ‘take home’ within a month at least. During the slow hours of circling and reeling, they began to see several whale pods on the horizon and the captain then wished they’d not deployed the nets. However, he had no qualms about sending one of his scout boats out in the rough seas to keep track of the whales until the rest of the crew cleaned the nets of their smaller catch.

With hot tea in hand, he watched imperially as the men below him wrangled and detangled the nets as they slowly rolled in with their catch of ocean fish and an occasional porpoise, separated from its pod somehow and scared and tired, and perhaps hurt. The men pulled in one slowly flopping Spectacled Porpoise and the captain knew intuitively that it was sick. Still, it would add to his tonnage and he turned his back as the animal blew out its last breath toward its killers and submitted to the huge fillet knife, plunged deeply beneath its left lateral flipper.

Once the nets were in and any useful fish or cetaceans were reduced to parts and moved to freezers, the ship renewed its up and down move forward, toward the scout boat and its crew of three. After they intercepted and retrieved the boat and crewmen, the bow harpooners took their positions above the small pod of seven streamlined Fin Whales. The captain knew he would only get one chance at the speedy whales, so he opted to run straight at the pod attempting to split it and get at least two adults.

Once the pod was intercepted, his harpooners hit one whale each and before sunset the harpooned animals were cut up and in the freezers. That night they toasted their great luck with warm Saki and whale meat stew. They all agreed, with a final round of Saki, that the next day would be one of sanctified sightings and of adding meat to the freezers. Consequently, that night was very restful … for most of the men.

The next morning proved to be unusually calm and bright for the Bellingshausen. Twenty four crewmen gathered in the bright green galley to fill stomachs with the morning’s fare, and only belatedly noticed two of their off-duty mates were missing. One of the junior sailors was tasked to check on Nakamura and Ishii. The slightly backward, but strong, young man returned within ten minutes and, as he sat down, casually told a mate that the gentlemen were still sleeping soundly. The other men at their table looked at each other in disbelief and two of the more senior mates bravely agreed to go again to check on their comrades.

When they returned to the galley, they were in a less valiant mood. They claimed Nakamura was dead and Ishii was nearly so. The ship’s indignant Doctor immediately left with the first mate to prove them wrong. Soon the captain was called and he went rushing through the galley toward the hatchway leading to crew’s quarters. Before long, the first mate returned and told the men to hurry and go to their work stations. When questioned, he insisted nothing was wrong and told the crew the captain would address the situation as soon as possible. ‘As soon as possible’, lasted about two hours, so the men were in an investigative mood by then, and there wasn’t much work being done. The only ones actually doing anything constructive were the wheelhouse crew, powering the ship forward on the last heading the captain ordered.

Everyone heard the loudspeakers click on, and any work that was being done stopped immediately. Captain Gato announced, My shipmates and brave seamen, it is my unfortunate duty to inform you that our friends Nakamura and Ishii have gone on before us and will be missed. I have ordered their bodies to be wrapped and frozen and we will salute their lives tonight at the evening meal. Our esteemed doctor will attempt to make sense of this premature passing and inform us of his findings as soon as possible. That is all.

Four more seamen fell mildly ill that day and Captain Gato headed north to Argentina at full speed. At a safe distance to the south, another ship’s captain watched the speed of the Japanese ship’s departure and knowing it could not be fully loaded, sensed something was amiss. The skipper of the former Coast Guard cutter, ‘Lamprey’, asked his first mate, Jasper, ‘you have any idea what’s going on with the Takanami? ‘You think they saw us?

Maybe Cap’n, I can’t figure it either. We just found ‘em and now maybe they’re takin’ off, thinkin’ they can outclass us. ‘Ain’t no way they can do that, and they should know it. ‘Wonder what the Cap’n’s thinkin’?

Let’s just lay back and follow; see where they lead. Maybe we can catch ‘em in port; if they ever port.

***

Did you see how close that male dolphin came to me, Penelope? boasted Marge Jenkins. He was just as close as you and I. He scared me when he blew out through his blow hole though. I startled and jumped and think I scared him too. I was trying to see what was wrong with his dorsal fin. There was some white gunk on it, and I would have cleaned it off if he’d come just a little closer … I think.

You need to leave those things alone, Marge! I don’t know why Australia allows all these people to intermingle with dolphins. They’re dirty and stinky things and I believe it distorts the natural order of things. Dolphins should be out to sea eating fish or whatever it is they eat, and we should be sitting in some air-conditioned, five-star hotel eating in their restaurant and drinking wonderful Australian wines. That’s how it should be. That’s the natural order of things, and we might be able to meet some nice ‘blokes’ that way. All I see out here’re ugly families with kids and I hate the ocean, and kids; ‘cause they both always stink.

Oh Penny, that’s all you think about. Maybe that’s why you’ve gone through three male friends in the last two years. I tell you; if you quit looking so hard, the right one will come along. Marge smiled warmly at her friend and finished, Well, Miss Anti-Ocean Penny, are you game for Coober Pedy tomorrow or not?

I don’t know, isn’t it overly dry and desolate there, and don’t they live in underground caverns like badgers or hedgehogs or something?

Oh God, sometimes you’re enough to piss off the ‘good humor man’ my dear. Just keep your mind on black opals. That’s where we’ll find those big, beautiful black opals; no onyx backings under cheap slivers of opal and crystal; just pure sparkling boulder opal. Think about how fascinating one of those flashy things will look around your neck, just hanging ever so slightly into your ample cleavage saying ‘look at me, look at me’. Think of the men it will attract, and perhaps trap.

Penny grinned demurely, primped her hair casually and offered, Well … I guess if I keep that in mind it may be worth the trip.

Marge Jenkins and Penelope Jones did go to Coober Pedy and they did buy some wonderful opals; many more than necessary. Still, after Coober Pedy they found a nice hotel in Melbourne and spent three days there resting, because the two ladies were completely worn out.

Marge had a bit of a headache and Penelope had a bout of post-prandial vomiting, but after three days they were up and at ‘em again, with a trip to Christchurch and then on to a small island-country north of New Zealand called Niue. There was a small Bed and Breakfast on the island where Marge and her late husband had stayed several years earlier. The owners were nice and the island was quiet, clean and isolated. It was just what Marge needed, but Penelope; perhaps not so much.

***

Captain Henshaw demanded, What’s our position Jasper?

We’re about 150 nautical miles south from Magellan’s Strait, Cap’n. Maybe the Takanami’s goin’ to Punta Arenas for safety or hidin’. I can’t believe they’ve got full freezers. ‘Must be havin’ mechanical problems.

Yeah, who knows? Maybe she’s going to Cabo Negro to fill up. We have to stay focused here and plan our escape well. Chile doesn’t like what we’re fixin’ to do. We need to attach the Limpet mines to the hull around two in the morning and have them go off after we’re well out of the Strait and in Argentine waters. Depending on where she docks, we might have one hell of a swim.

The crow’s nest bell rang once and Jasper Elwood answered, then mumbled something and clicked the hand set to ‘off’. He stared at the Captain for a moment, picked up his binoculars and scanned off the port bow. He saw nothing and informed the Captain, Jughead, up in the nest, says he sees a small boat off the port bow at about a mile, but I don’t see it.

So what’s so special about that? There’re probably hundreds of small boats milling around these waters.

He claims it’s a whaler’s skiff.

***

Captain Gato’s body had been in the freezer for three days by the time Takanami Maru entered Argentine waters. Ten more of Gato’s crew were in there with him. They seemed to die of an acute attack of allergies … and something else more sinister. Toward the end, they seemed to get either somnolent or extremely agitated. Two of the agitated crew stole a skiff and set off toward what they thought was land. They didn’t make it … alive. Only thirteen terrified crewmen still lived when ‘Jughead’ saw the Takanami’s skiff, but several of those were already showing ominous signs.

The ever-dutiful Captain Gato made a lengthy entry in his ship’s log before he died. He explained the symptoms and what, to him, seemed to be the variable incubation period. He’d transmitted the information to his headquarters and they subsequently instructed him to make for the port of Punta Arenas, Chile. He was told that if he lived he would be met by a team of decontaminators and company officials. The devoted Gato instructed his sailors to fight the disease to the last man and at least persevere to port. He inferred that a harbor pilot would take the boat in and assist whoever was left alive. Of course no maritime pilot in his or her right mind would board a diseased ship.

***

Captain Henshaw mumbled, mostly to himself, What the hell is he doing now? The ship’s slowed to around 10 knots and seems to be heading out to sea. Maybe he’s runnin’ out of fuel or it’s engine trouble after all, although I haven’t seen any sign of diesel smoke; raw or otherwise.

Reflecting Henshaw’s mood, Elwood quietly responded, She’s been erratic for several hours. ‘Hope she makes it through the mouth of the strait. It’s only about ten miles across.

Although Elwood’s comment was meant to be sarcastic, Captain Henshaw didn’t hear it, because he was deeply worried the anti-whalers of the Sea Marshal Society wouldn’t have the chance to disable the Takanami Maru themselves. All he needed was to be caught trailing a disabled whaler in Chilean waters. He ordered the pilot to fall back and wait. The Lamprey went ahead at five knots, just as Jughead rang again.

Elwood asked impatiently, What is it Jughead?

Sir, that skiff is about a quarter mile to our port if you wanna check it out. It’s movin’ kinda fast, an’ comin’ our way.

Thinking they might be up against some pirates, Jasper Elwood sounded ‘general quarters’. A startled Henshaw asked, What the devil, Jasper? What the heck are you doin’?

Jughead says that skiff is coming right at us with the motor running, Cap’n!

Well, hell, let’s get out there and see what’s really happening.

Both men grabbed binoculars and went out on deck to check the approaching boat. Moments after the Captain checked the speeding skiff he yelled at the pilot through the open door, FULL AHEAD AND THIRTY DEGREES TO STARBOARD … NOW!

The large skiff was spacious enough to hold eight men, but only one could be seen hunched over the motor’s tiller. As the boat got closer, the Captain noticed several of his crew watching the skiff move closer and closer to the Lamprey. He yelled at them to get to their stations. One of the young women yelled back, scared and almost in tears, that the port deck was her station. The Captain grinned, looked through his binoculars again and yelled at the pilot, HARD TO PORT NOW, THIRTY DEGREES, NOW, NOW!

The old cutter groaned, but did what was asked of her. As the ship leveled out, the skiff came close and sped along the port side missing the Lamprey’s steel hull by only meters. However, it was close enough to see there were two very dead men in it. One was flat out on his back in the bottom and one was slumped against the engine tiller like he was focused on finding heaven or hell. The folks aboard the Lamprey who were looking … and there were quite a few who were not at their duty stations … glimpsed the cold, dead, swollen purple faces of two Orientals on their way to the South Pole.

You wanna pick ‘em up Cap’n?

Hell no, Jasper! I feel sorry for the guys, but there’s some disease aboard that boat and I don’t want it on this one. Did you see the swollen faces on those bodies? You know damned well that skiff came from the Takanami. That’s why she’s been acting strange. There’s probably no one in charge of ‘er at this point.

Henshaw was essentially correct. There was nothing but arguments and resignation ongoing aboard the Takanami. Only three of the crew had no symptoms whatsoever. They were the cook and two of his assistants. Everyone else was resigned to their fate, arguing over the most trivial of things, writing to their relatives or just sitting motionless in chairs or on their beds. Some faces were swollen and some were not, but the day was young. No one was steering the ship and she was finally sitting dead in the water, with her engines idling. The moribund cook and his assistants were waiting for the symptoms to start, as they routinely went about their jobs of preparing a small meal; hardly anyone would eat.

***

Ooooo, Marge, did you see that extremely handsome, tanned man at the beach today? He’s a naturist, I do believe. I just ran into him on the trail down to that little market. He actually stopped and talked to me. He was very nice and genteel if not a bit overly hormonal, but I do believe that is exactly what I need right now, and perhaps I bring that out in men anyway. He isn’t married and is taking a short leave of absence from a business in New Zealand. I do hope we see him at the beach again tomorrow. Should I wear a bikini, I wonder, or nothing at all? I’m all for staying a few more days if you can abide it.

Penelope, we are scheduled to leave, on an aircraft … not one of our choosing, in four days’ time. Now, if we choose to take another craft, not only will we give up our non-refundable tickets, we will have to wait a week to get standby off of this beautiful island and will have to pay another exorbitant fee for that. I’m certain you are made of money my dear, but I assure you I am not. So, I suppose I’ll leave you in the care of your hormonal, bare gentleman and take my leave to wherever the plane goes, come Sunday.

Marge laughed at her quiet friend then, and lightly poked her in the side with her index finger. She added, I’m just fooling with you, dear. I know you would much rather stay here in this paradise because of it and me, than because of some man you just met … he was a nice, tanned figure though, even though I only saw him from a distance.

Then, Penelope surprised her pal when she rather sheepishly asked, Marge, would you mind terribly if I did stay a while longer and perhaps follow you back to Jersey after a week? I really haven’t felt like flying since we’ve been here, and you know I don’t favor the ocean, except to sunbathe. Maybe I’ll be better by Tuesday, but it was all I could bear, just getting here and I would rather feel more composed before venturing onto some other noisy aircraft.

Well … I guess I didn’t know you were that much under the weather, dear. I don’t mind at all. I’m lucky I guess. This island has always agreed with me and given me a sense of stability. I do enjoy the flora and fauna above and below the water and wouldn’t care if I never left. However, my business partners might not agree with me in some way. I sense I do add a degree of sophistication to what would otherwise be a vulgar brawl in the accounting business, and I fear things would never be the same without me.

Penelope smiled and retorted, Remember, when you toot your own horn too loudly, you chance damaging your own hearing as well!

They both had a good giggle and continued to dress for dinner in town. However, Penelope didn’t eat much and seemed no better the next morning.

***

There she goes Cap’n, the Takanami’s corrected course and looks like she’s plowing ocean. You wanna just stay at this distance?"

Captain Henshaw stood more erect, and observed pensively through his binoculars for a few moments. He dropped the field glasses to his chest, but continued to hold them against his jacket and stare at the Takanami as she seemingly got underway again.

It was some time before he responded, Jasper, somehow I think we’ve seen the last of the Takanami. I don’t even want to get close to her. Let’s stow the Limpet mines and use them another day on another damned whaler. I got a real bad feelin’ about this incident. Please notify the Chile port authority in Punta Arenas and the Argentine authorities about the Japanese research vessel Takanami Maru. Tell them they may need quarantine and more. Then set compass for the Faulklands and notify home base. I’ll inform the crew what we’re doing. I think the Takanami’s whale killing days are over.

As most of the Lamprey’s crew passively watched in the distance, the head cook on the Takanami Maru finally took charge and, with meager verbal assistance from a sick pilot, set the engines and started on a path for Punta Arenas and safe harbor. The head cook was a good man, but he knew nothing of sea law or of navigation. He’d steered his father’s recreation boat when he was a young boy, but knew little of the vagaries of a sea going vessel or of the propensities of the Chilean Navy Coast Guard. The Takanami Maru was stopped soon after it entered Chilean waters and was temporarily quarantined. However, once a team inspected the boat and soon died of acute anaphylaxis, the quarantine was unequivocal.

***

Penelope, mon amie I hope you feel better today. Would you like to wear your tiny bikini to the beach and attempt an entrapment of your special man friend?

I don’t think so Marge. I feel a little dizzy this morning; sort of like I have an inner ear infection. As long as I stay down, I seem to feel fine though. Would you mind terribly, if I didn’t go with you?

Oh, no dear, you rest. I’ll be back before lunch to check on you. Would you like something before I leave? Perhaps I’ll put some saltines and some water on your bedside. Where’s your cell phone? Make sure you have it beside your bed as well, so you can call me.

The good friends separated for the morning, with Marge walking spritely down to the beach, and with Penelope dreaming of her man, and of what she and he would do once she enticed him to follow her home.

Marge enjoyed her familiar secluded spot on the beach, but after getting a bit too warm in the sun decided to take a cooling dip in the quiet lagoon. She waded in carefully and eased herself down into the cool, crystal clear water. Then, suddenly the sea floor seemed like a dreamlike little slice of heaven. She didn’t think she’d ever harbored such a physical affinity for the water even though she lived on an island with plenty of it around … but this … this was different! She swam out slowly, almost luxuriously and suddenly had the overwhelming urge to rid her body of clothing.

She stripped off her Kelly-green, spandex suit, with almost an urgent distain for the damned restricting thing, and left it floating on the surface to do what it would. She swam around with a freedom she’d never dreamed, diving to enjoy the flamboyant beauty of the darting fish, exquisite coral and shining green sea plants. The colors were mesmerizing and at the same time almost overwhelming. She didn’t want to come up for air, but found if she came up and rolled over she could quickly inhale on her back, turn over again and descend to enjoy her view. She picked up a small, brilliant red shell off the sandy bottom, studied it closely, paused to reflect and somehow was suddenly paralyzed with awareness and fear.

She came up sputtering and almost crying at the same time; her mind in a rage. She paddled frantically for shore, and came across her suit bobbing on the small swells. She grabbed it in passing and walked from the water naked as the day she was born, carrying her suit and staring straight ahead. She didn’t see the middle-aged man sitting well down the beach, but at that moment didn’t care who saw her in any case. He saw her well enough though and thoroughly enjoyed his view.

Marge threw on her suit, and didn’t bother to adjust it properly. She just sat down on her towel, drew her legs up tightly with her arms, placed her forehead on her knees and tried to analyze what was happening to her. Presently, a shadow passed over her; she startled slightly and looked up into the concerned eyes of the beach man. He kindly asked if she was all right.

Although continuing in her confused state, she finally corralled a shred of decorum, squinted up at him and said, Oh, oh yes, yes I think I am. I just had the strangest experience out there. I had this urge to remove my suit and swam around thinking I was a bloody fish or something. When I believed I could see under water like a fish, I finally came to my senses and got the hell out of the water. I seem to have ingested a psychedelic drug or … , she smiled weakly up at him, not finishing her statement.

He responded, Well, if you have that urge again, please just … just imagine I’m not even here.

She grinned at him, while shielding her eyes from the sun, then said boldly, All right I won’t.

She stood up and still had to look up at him; held out her hand and said, Marge Jenkins, I’m here with a friend who decided not to hit the beach today.

As he gently squeezed her hand, Jonathan Morgan and I’m very pleased to meet you. Would it help, if you told me what happened out there?

Marge looked down in embarrassment and said, Oh God, you saw me come out of the water didn’t you. I’m so sorry; I’m not in the best shape of late. My friend and I have been on this holiday for almost two weeks now and I think we’re both very tired and perhaps just a little fat and balmy.

Oh no, I’ve been watching you swim since you went in, and I must say I really enjoyed it. You looked like a beautifully swimming porpoise out there.

He saw the ego deflation in her eyes and demeanor, and tried to correct with, No, no, no what I meant to say was, you were swimming like a mermaid with all the energy of a porpoise. You certainly don’t look like a porpoise … more like a mermaid … why don’t I just shut up for now.

She laughed with him in spite of herself and asked him to sit down. She had to sit down because her legs seemed weak at that moment. She made brief small talk about where she and Penny were staying and when they would leave. Not wanting to interrupt, he listened intently until she paused; waiting for her to fully describe the swimming incident. She didn’t.

He smiled a crooked smile at her silence and asked softly, Would you like to tell me about the incident just now? You looked so confused and frightened when you came running out. I had to come over to see if I could assist. Otherwise I would have respected your privacy.

She returned her best smile to the handsome man. She needed someone to help her decipher what had just happened and knew very well that Penelope would be less than no help at all. She decided to start with, "Well, I’ve really not been such an ardent admirer of the ocean, although on this holiday we’ve been rather surrounded by it and I’ve enjoyed it very much. We’re from the Isle of Jersey, and the waters around our little home are usually cold.

We vacationed in Perth and Coober Pedy, then on to Melbourne and Christchurch, and finally here where the water is even more wonderful. This is only the fourth time I’ve ever been around … or in the southern oceans. The first three were with my late husband, then this time at Perth, with the dolphins or porpoises … now here.

She settled herself then, with legs crossed, moved her eyes reluctantly from his face to the ocean’s horizon so she could concentrate, and then continued, When I went in, the water was almost summoning me. Then, once I was in, I suddenly couldn’t endure the constriction of my spandex suit. It was stifling; choking even! Once I removed it, the ocean took on an almost surrealistic harmony, with vivid colors, hues and even shadows. That all seemed normal until I retrieved a small brilliant red shell from the bottom and started inspecting it up close. I mean I could see it up close, just as if I’d had on a prescription snorkeling mask, only better. It scared me and things plunged quickly back into perspective. That’s when I got out!

Wow, it does sound a little like you had a psychedelic episode, doesn’t it? Have you ever had the problem before?

Heavens no! I’m a public accountant and have my own little firm in Jersey. I don’t have time for ‘episodes’ like this. Penelope is the one who has episodes. She’s the Jerry Lewis of our pair and unfortunately I’m the ‘straight-man’.

Well, I know what I saw, and I saw a girl thoroughly enjoying herself until something untoward happened. Then she ran from the ocean like a shark was after her. It sort of alarmed me too.

Marge just sat looking outward and Jonathan said nothing more, for some time. Marge felt him looking at her face, but was loath to look his way for fear of breaking the spell. Finally she looked down at the sand, moving her head down and then sideways toward him. Her eyes followed, and found he was still watching her. She smiled at him and moved her eyes back toward the ocean. She felt the urge to walk to it and swim naked, but instead asked him what his occupation was.

He said, Only if you promise not to tell.

Her eyes focused on his, she held up her right hand and said, I promise!

I’m a podiatrist … a foot doctor, you know. I have a small, exclusive practice in Christchurch. I treat only the wealthy … usually.

Marge was fighting the urge to kiss the man and couldn’t understand where her energy and stupidity was coming from. Then she suddenly became aware she was shivering. He noticed it too, and took off his flower-print shirt to cover her shoulders. It helped, but it didn’t; he was tanned, well-muscled and lean. It actually seemed to make her condition worse.

She managed to ask nicely if he would escort her to the bungalow, and he was happy to do so. He held her arm in the crook of his most of the way, and when he uncoupled their arms to go single file through a narrow passage, she bravely took his hand after they passed through. Before he left her at the cottage door, he asked if they could have dinner. She agreed with a smile and a definite sparkle in her eye, but asked to meet Jonathan covertly, because she didn’t want Penny to get jealous.

***

Rockingham, Australia was practically empty; the hawkers and gawkers were no place to be found. A few dolphins came, but there was no one there to feed, pet or encourage them and they remained off shore and chortled and splashed for anyone they saw. The courteous and knowledgeable staff, or the three that was left of them, were lounging on their boat, cleaning their gear and gossiping about the number of people who’d been taken ill in the last two weeks. Meanwhile, the most inquisitive of the neglected dolphins were sounding off ever more loudly from the surf trying to get the attention of someone … anyone.

A virologist from The Australia Center for Disease Control had been lurking, talking to everyone, insinuating that the recent disease being exhibited by many tourists could have originated with the dolphins. Of course everyone who knew dolphins thought the idea ludicrous; everyone except the loitering Doctor Robyn Brown that is. Of course she was suspicious of the dolphins, because nearly all the initially infected had been to Rockingham and played with the cetaceans. To her it was a distinct possibility but, to some, the source was more likely the few Chinese tourists who’d enjoyed the spectacle so much. Rumor had it that one Chinese woman was coughing during the dolphin encounter. The fact that all her group stayed in the same hotel reinforced the Chinese theory; that and the fact that almost everyone really wanted it to be the Chinese.

Doctor Brown was young, unmarried and unattached. She was a nerd’s nerd, with the glasses, ponytail, and worn denims to back it up. The only item common to that genre she didn’t possess was a shirt pocket protector; because she thought it garnered too much attention to her smallish breasts. What she truly was though; a brain trust. She had an IQ of about 180 and used it for positive work in her field. She could practically quote the presumed RNA genome sequence for all her very favorite viruses, and had developed what she thought was a good viral application to rid Australia of the cane toad infestation.

However, no one really listened to her theories, even when she wore her lab coat and radiation badge. Soon though, what was left of the world would beat a path to her door. At roughly two weeks after Marge Jenkins left her dolphin encounter, mildly infected people in Australia started to die … slowly at first, then quickly, then widely … by the thousands.

At first they died in the single digits, then by the 18th day hundreds were dying hourly, mainly around Perth. Just as the frantic officials congregated on Perth, reports of deaths came from Coober Pedy and then a few days later from Melbourne. Simply as a precaution, one of the surviving national lab epidemiologists called his counterparts in New Zealand and Tasmania. No reports had been filed that day, but two days later several deaths were reported in and around one of Christchurch’s hotels. The Nation of Australia went crackers. They’d been scared by the Hendra and Nipah virus outbreaks on the East Coast, and now another unknown and much more virulent virus outbreak was to be dealt with in the West.

The entire nation was mobilized. People on the street, who had to work, bought face masks they thought were capable of stopping viruses. Of course the mask supply was soon exhausted and those who went outside without a mask risked their very lives. In fact those who went to work took the same gamble. Therefore, most of the work force stayed home and soon anyone with just the sniffles was suspect. Robyn Brown did not have the luxury of staying home.

Evenings found Doctor Brown at