(Nebula 2000) Darwin's Radio by Greg Bear

Author:Greg Bear [Bear, Greg]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Suspense, Thriller, Fantasy
ISBN: 9780345423337
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 1999-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

47

The National Institutes of Health, Bethesda

Augustine drove around the campus on the Old Georgetown Road to Lincoln Street and made his way to a temporary employee parking lot near the Taskforce Center. The Taskforce had been assigned a new building at the surgeon general’s request just two weeks before. The protesters apparently did not know of this change, and were marching on the old headquarters, and on Building 10.

Augustine walked quickly in the warming sun to the ground floor entrance. NIH campus police and newly-hired private security guards stood outside the building, talking in low voices. They were eyeing knots of protesters a few hundred yards away.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Augustine,” the building’s chief of security told him as he carded himself in through the main entrance. “We’ve got the National Guard coming in this afternoon.”

“Oh, goodie.” Augustine drew in his chin and punched the elevator button. In the new office, three assistants and his personal secretary, Mrs. Florence Leighton, matronly and very efficient, were trying to reestablish a network link with the rest of the campus.

“What’s wrong, sabotage?” Augustine asked, a little savagely.

“No,” Mrs. Leighton said, handing him a sheaf of printouts. “Stupidity. The server decided not to recognize us.”

Augustine slammed the door to his office, pulled out his rolling chair, slapped the brief on the desktop. The phone cheeped. He reached over to punch the button.

“Five minutes uninterrupted, please, Florence, to put my thoughts in order?” he pleaded.

“It’s Kennealy for the vice president, Mark,” Mrs. Leighton said.

“Double goodie. Put him on.”

Tom Kennealy, the vice president’s chief of technical communications—another new position, established the week before—was first on the line, and asked Augustine if he had been told about the scale of the protests.

“I’m seeing it through my window now,” he replied.

“They’re at four hundred and seventy hospitals at last count,” Kennealy said.

“God bless the Internet,” Augustine said.

“Four demonstrations have gotten out of hand—not including the riot in San Diego. The vice president is very concerned, Mark.”

“Tell him I’m more than concerned. It’s the worst news I could imagine—a dead full-term Herod’s baby.”

“What about the herpes angle?”

“Screw that. Herpes doesn’t infect an infant until it’s born. They must not have taken any precautions in Mexico City.”

“That’s not what we’re hearing. Maybe we can offer some reassurance on this? If it is a diseased infant?”

“Quite clearly it is diseased, Tom. It’s Herod’s we should be focusing on here.”

“All right. I’ve briefed the vice president. He’s here now, Mark.”

The vice president came on the line. Augustine composed his voice and greeted him calmly. The vice president told him that the NIH was being afforded military security, high-security protected status, as were the CDC and five Taskforce research centers around the country. Augustine could visualize the result now—razor wire, police dogs, concussion grenades, and tear gas. A fine atmosphere in which to conduct delicate research.

“Mr. Vice President, don’t push them off campus,” Augustine said. “Please. Let them stay and let them protest.”

“The president gave the order an hour ago. Why change it?”

“Because it looks like they’re venting steam.

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