“Very bad. SARS hit around eight thousand people, and fewer than a thousand died. If this virus hits your country, it would kill a minimum of more than two hundred thousand people.”

“And the maximum?”

“Possibly in the millions. But even in the hundreds of thousands, the epidemic would overwhelm the health system of any country it hits. Many of the people who will die are health providers, widening the disaster even more. The total impact on the industrialized world would be nearly seven hundred thousand deaths and more than two million people hospitalized . . . minimum. Developing countries would fare much worse. The total cost could be as much as a trillion dollars.”

Austin had been working his jaw muscle as he listened to the grim statistics.

“You’ve just described a global catastrophe, Song.”

“To say the least. The medical community has worried about a mutant flu virus for years. Even without help, the virus can reinvent itself, changing its genetic makeup, hitting people who have no immunity against it.”

“Medicine has evolved far beyond what was available in past epidemics,” he said.

“So has transportation,” she said. “A carrier infected in the U.S. or China can spread the disease anywhere around the world in a matter of hours. Existing vaccines are useless, which is why it was so important to develop the medusa vaccine.”

“How does the new virus spread?”

“The old virus spread by contact. The mutant strain may spread that way, but, even more disturbing, it may spread through the water.”

“Are you saying that it could seep into the water table?”

“There is that possibility, yes.”

“Which means that the virus could be introduced into drinking water.”

“That would make its spread even more difficult to control. Everyone drinks water, while personal contact is a hit-or-miss thing. It is extremely contagious either way. It’s possible that the whole human race could become infected.”

Lee felt emotionally drained by the implications of her dry recitation and expected Austin to share her pessimism. But, to her surprise, he said, “Thank you for your analysis, Dr. Lee, but we can’t let that happen.”

“What do you mean to do?”

“Once we find the lab, we’ll make sure that the staff is safe. Then we’ll retrieve the research and allow vaccine production to move ahead. And then we’ll proceed to sink the Triad. How’s that sound to you, Joe?”

“Sounds like we’ll need some chow to keep us going. I’ll see what I can rustle up in the galley.”

Austin had summed up his strategy as casually as if he were talking about making a soccer play. Instead of panicking, Zavala was throwing breakfast together. Lee saw no sign of madness or misplaced humor in the face of either man, only calm determination and steely resolve.

For the first time since she had learned that Davy Jones’s Locker had vanished, she began to hope.

Unknown

NUMA 8 - Medusa

CHAPTER 33