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A Forge Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fift h Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Mara, Wil.
Gemini virus / Wil Mara.—1st ed.
p. cm.
“A Tom Doherty Associates book.”
ISBN 978-0-7653-2431-3 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4299-8761-5 (e-book)
1. Virus diseases—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3613.A725G46 2012
813'.6—dc23
2012019938
0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ONE
“Okay, this is one I’m sure you’ll like,” Beck said confidently, ad-
vancing through the songs via the button on the steering wheel.
“This was one of my favorites when I was a kid.”
“Back in the late Pliocene?” his passenger asked.
“I was born in the early Holocene. Now, listen.”
As Beck cruised north on Connecticut’s I-91 with the rented
convertible’s top down, his ID badge flipped and bounced against
his chest. It read michael beck, epidemiologist, and right un-
der that, centers for disease control, atlanta ga.
The song began quietly, a simple drumbeat accompanied by
silvery high notes in a playful intro. Then a call-and-answer seg-
ment featuring bass, sitar, and piano. Finally, Robbie Dupree’s
eternally soulful voice delivering the first line.
“It’s called ‘Steal Away.’ It was a huge hit when I was a kid;
the DJs loved it. It gets airplay even now and is included in movie
soundtracks once in awhile. Not so bad, right?”
He glanced over in time to see her roll her eyes, which made
him smile. She’s heard me prattle on about this before—“The Lost
Age of Melody,” I call it, back when songwriters ruled the music
business and hits had hooks you couldn’t get out of your head.
“Yeah, it’s great. I’m totally blown out of my seat.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.” He sang along with the cho-
rus in a voice that was good enough for private use but would
surely earn the wrath of the American Idol judges. “And this
guy’s new album is terrific. I’ve played it a few times for you.”
THE GEMINI VIRUS 39
“Well, it’s certainly better than that other stuff you like . . .
what do you call it? Exotica?”
“Like lying on the beach in Hawaii with a mai tai in your
hand. Pure bliss. Martin Denny, Les Baxter, Arthur Lyman . . .”
“Yawn.”
“Lyman was the best.”
“But it’s all so lightweight,” she said.
“That’s what’s great about it. The music you listen to . . . my
God, it makes you want to grab a machine gun and start thin-
ning out the neighborhood.”
She turned to him with a smirk. “That’s what’s great about it.”
“Ahh, right.”
She went back to her trademark I’m-so-damn-bored
posture—chin in hand, lips tight, and the tiniest trace of resent-
ment in the eyes. He smiled again and decided to let her be.
Maybe the song would seep through her defenses, act as a kind
of antidote. Music had the power to bring warmth and joy and
relief to a troubled soul, he knew, and Cara Porter was certainly
burdened with a troubled soul. One look at her gave that away—
the goth makeup and jewelry, the perpetual scowl, the hunched
shoulders. Beck had taken a huge chance on her. When she ended
up on his doorstep with a freshly minted master’s degree in one
hand and a résumé in the other, he thought someone down the
line had made a mistake. Then he caught a sense of the real per-
son behind the armor and thought he detected much more. In
time, he came to realize he had been correct. When she was work-
ing, an alternative persona—the one, Beck thought, represented
the true individual—emerged. The professional Cara Porter was
inspired, intuitive, and boundlessly compassionate. Their ex-
changes were more substantial and mature. And her sensitivity,
usually kept so carefully guarded, was remarkable. From human
patients to laboratory animals, she treated all living things with
40 Wil Mara
“My God.”
Beck found an exit ramp and changed sides, heading south
now.
Abbott said, “It almost sounds . . . smallpox-esque, doesn’t
it?”
Beck nodded. “That’s what I first thought when you men-
tioned the pustules, but . . . do we even know if the agent is viral
and not bacterial?”
“It’s viral. That’s been confirmed from samples.”
“Okay.”
“Aren’t the pustules and the subcutaneous bleeding symp-
toms of two different forms of smallpox?” Porter asked.
“Yes. The pustules are symptomatic of the common form,
and the internal bleeding is an indicator of . . . what?”
“The hemorrhagic form. The nasty one.”
“Correct. Very good.”
Hemorrhagic smallpox was one of the most horrific diseases
imaginable. Unlike the more common form of smallpox, the hem-
orrhagic variety featured minimal manifestations on the outside
of the body, such as dark papules. Instead, most of the damage is
subcutaneous. Internal bleeding will occur first in the mucous
membranes and gastrointestinal tract, but can also affect the
spleen, kidneys, liver, bladder, and reproductive organs. Some-
times the whites of the eyes also turn a deep red. Hemorrhagic
smallpox mostly affects adults and is nearly always fatal.
“I don’t know of any cases where both symptoms occurred
together,” Beck said, “so my gut tells me this is something differ-
ent. Sheila, are any other CDC people on the ground?”
“No, but Ben Gillette is waiting for you at Valley Hospital in
Ridgewood. They’ve moved all the bodies there.”
Gillette was one of New Jersey’s county epidemiologists, and
THE GEMINI VIRUS 43
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