After his second overdose, he’d awoken in the hospital determined to get his life together. It hadn’t been difficult to find an NGO that would take a scientist of his reputation who was willing to go to whatever shithole or hot spot they could dream up. And that had ushered in his somewhat more productive infectious disease, war, and poverty phase. It had been a huge rush and he’d loved the remote locations, the chaos, the danger. Most of all, though, he’d loved the feeling of moving away from pure theory and helping flesh-and-blood people.

It was likely he’d still be out there somewhere if it hadn’t been for a chance meeting with the infamous Nicholas Ward. Or maybe it hadn’t been chance. He’d never gotten a reliable bead on that.

Chism slowed as he crested the mountaintop, looking out across the stunning valley below. The intensity of the forest against the sky. The geometric blocks denoting agriculture. The craggy cliffs and clouds building on the horizon. What really captured his imagination, though, was a distant cluster of buildings to the east. They were another example of the ridiculous serendipity that tended to cling to him even when he was screwing up.

The facility was state of the art in the truest sense—benefiting from unlimited funds provided by one of the few people in the world smarter than he was. It served as a regular hospital to the rural communities around it, but also as a research facility developing a new approach to fighting viral infections. The potential contribution to mankind was incredible, with the possibility that a single vaccine could wipe out the entire coronavirus category. If he could make it work, COVID, SARS, YARS, and even the common cold would become a thing of the past.

The location was a little more remote and unstable than he would have liked, but there were no workable alternatives. In its early stages, the vaccine had potential side effects that the local population was immune to. No one was sure why—probably a coronavirus epidemic that predated recorded history—but it didn’t really matter. Relocating to Uganda and recruiting volunteers here had pushed his research forward a good five years.

Chism navigated down the mountain while scanning the dense trees that lined the road. Despite numerous expeditions into the backcountry, he’d never managed to spot a gorilla. Duikers, a potentially new species of butterfly, and endless red-tailed monkeys, yes. But still not so much as a glimpse of the crown jewel of Uganda’s wildlife.

Not that he was worried. One day, they’d make an appearance at the edge of the forest, all lined up and in perfect morning light. Just like one day he’d find a supermodel with a thing for geeky scientists broken down by the side of the road. That was just the way his life went.