“It was Amy Serpry,” she said. “The mole you planted in Dr. Hess’s lab.”
Cutter had already suspected as much, as his prior attempts to contact his young Dark Eden acolyte had failed. Initially he had assumed she had died during the containment breach, but plainly she must have been captured.
“And where is Amy now?” Cutter wondered how much the woman had told the authorities. Not that he was overly worried. Amy had never visited his tepui and knew nothing about the true extent of his plans.
“Dead,” Beck said. “From the same organism she unleashed in California.”
Cutter searched inwardly to judge how he felt about this loss, but he discovered no strong emotional response. “Amy knew the risks. She was a dedicated soldier for Dark Eden, happy to advance the cause.”
“She didn’t look happy at the end.”
He shrugged. “Hard sacrifices have to be made.”
As will many more, which this young woman will soon learn.
He motioned for Rahei to bring the prisoner along as he turned away. He headed toward his home’s front door. He caught a small face peering from around the edge. His son, Jori, was always curious about strangers. It was his own fault, for keeping the boy so isolated.
He waved his son back inside.
Here was one visitor Jori didn’t need to meet.
“I want to see Dr. Hess,” the woman persisted. “Before I say another word.”
Despite the woman’s bluster, he knew Rahei had the skills to get her talking within the hour, but that wouldn’t be necessary.
He glanced back. “Where do you think I’m taking you?”
12:48 P.M.
It can’t be . . .
Kendall stared at the computer screen in the main lab as Mateo loomed in the background.
After completing his analysis of the genetic code that Cutter designed—the code meant for Kendall’s viral shell—he had shed his biosafety suit and returned to a workstation in the outer room.
He had used the CRISPR-Cas9 technique to break down Cutter’s code, gene by gene, nucleotide by nucleotide. He discovered the code was a simple one: a single strand of RNA, a common presentation for a whole family of viruses.
This minimalist approach suggested that Cutter had likely picked an ordinary virus, then engineered new code into it, using the same hybridization technique that he employed to create the chimeric species populating that sinkhole.
But what was the original viral source?
It was a simple puzzle to solve. He ran the code through an identification program and found a 94 percent match with the common norovirus. This particular bug was the plague of cruise ships or anywhere people gathered in great numbers. It was one of the most highly contagious viruses in nature, requiring only twenty or so particles to infect a person. It could be transmitted through bodily fluid, through the air, or simply by coming in contact with a contaminated surface.
If you wanted to create a universally contagious organism, the norovirus would be a good choice. The disadvantage was that it was highly sensitive to common disinfectants, bleaches, and detergents, so could be readily thwarted.
But if that virus were armored inside my engineered shell, nothing would stop it.
Still, the norovirus was not generally fatal, especially in healthy individuals. It only triggered flu-like symptoms. So that raised a larger concern.
What did Cutter add to the mix?
What made up that other 6 percent of the code?
The remaining material appeared to be the same repeated sequences for a specific protein-coding gene. To figure out what protein that was, he ran his findings through a modeling program that converted the code into a string of amino acids, then from that chain, the computer built a three-dimensional model of that final protein.
He stared at the model of it now, watching it slowly spin on the screen.
Though it had been slightly altered, he still recognized this unique foldable protein. He confirmed it with that same matching program.
My God, Cutter, what are you planning to do?
As if summoned by this thought, the door to the lab opened and Cutter arrived. Two women accompanied him. One was his wife—or at least she appeared to be, but something felt off about her. She had none of the sultry allure of Cutter’s wife, nor was there the unspoken affection he’d formerly witnessed between husband and wife.
Then it dawned on him, remembering the unusual tribal heritage.
This must be his wife’s twin—Mateo’s other sister.
Supporting this assessment, the scarred man’s reaction to the woman was very different from the way he had greeted Ashuu. Mateo would barely meet this sister’s eyes, looking strangely fearful and nervous.
Before he could discern why, the second woman stepped into view. From her clothes and manner, she must be American. Still, there was something oddly familiar about her, like they had met before. But he could not place when or where.
Cutter made introductions. “Kendall, this is my sister-in-law, Rahei. And this lovely young woman at my side is from your own neck of the woods. A California park ranger. Ms. Jenna Beck.”
Kendall blinked in surprise, suddenly remembering. He had met this young woman briefly in Lee Vining, over a cup of coffee at Bodie Mike’s. She had been inquiring about his research at the lake. He struggled through his confusion.
What was she doing here now?
From the anger in her face and her stiff stance, she was no accomplice in all of this.
Jenna crossed to his side, touching his elbow in concern. “Are you okay, Dr. Hess?”
He licked his lips, too shocked to know how to even answer that question.
Cutter’s gaze fell upon the computer screen. “Ah, Kendall, I see you’ve accomplished much while I was gone.”
He glanced back to the slowly revolving protein. “That’s some type of prion, isn’t it?”
“Very good. It is indeed. In fact, it’s a modified version of the infectious protein that causes Creutzfeldt–Jakob disease, an illness that presents with rapidly progressive dementia in humans.”
Jenna looked between the two men. “What are you talking about?”
Kendall didn’t have time to fully explain—not that he understood it all himself. Prions were mere slivers of protein with no genetic code of their own. Once a victim was infected, those proteins damaged other proteins—usually in the brain. As a consequence, prion diseases were usually slow, more difficult to spread.
But not any longer.
Kendall faced Cutter. “You engineered a contagious norovirus, one that could spread rapidly and churn out this deadly prion in great volumes.”