Humphrey scoffed and visibly exhausted himself with the vehemence in his verbal response.

“Puchal arrogant joke. Kaz’s team already working on germ when he started research. Heard him talk once. Totally misdirected. Don’t think Kazimi ever made him part of think tank.”

“And your role in the project?” Lou asked.

“Removed,” Humphrey replied simply.

“By Kazimi?”

“Yes. My mentor … my friend. Just like that.”

“Why would he remove you from the project?”

“I suggested alternate approach—new theory I’d developed.”

“And the theory goes?”

Lou, completely transfixed by the man, crouched low to get at his level, and focused on every syllable. Was this Floyd Weems, stepping from the dense undergrowth of the Chattahoochee forest at the moment he was most sorely needed?

“My work uses bacteriophage,” Humphrey said. “Three strains, actually. You know about phage?”

“Some. I know they are viruses that infect a specific bacteria, and as often as not, kill it. There are many different kinds.”

“Not bad. Think we need get away from chemical antibiotics. Kill the Doomsday Germ with phage before it can adapt.”

“Your approach was rejected?”

Humphrey had to rest several minutes before he resumed typing.

Kazimi and I had a heated online exchange. As I said, I had always given him the utmost amount of respect, but on this point I firmly believed he was headed down the wrong road. He was like Puchalsky, locked into familiar notions and traveling well-worn paths, fixated on established approaches, blind to the fact that this germ plays by a different set of rules.

“So, why haven’t I heard much about this germ? It’s sensationalist stuff. You’d think it would be in all the papers.”

Humphrey’s expression darkened.

Do you think the government wants this sort of news widely known? Think of the panic it would cause. There are outbreaks of SARS or infections like SARS all the time, all over the world, but we rarely hear about them because of the damage it would do to tourism and consumer confidence.

We count on the vigilance of our scientific community to sound the warning bells, but in this case the most brilliant minds don’t even believe the germ is real, while the hospitals are under a gag order to keep it out of the public domain. I know this for a fact.

“How do you know?”

“Very good with computers,” Humphrey understated. “Have ways. Exchanges between our hospital and FBI following initial case.”

“You hacked the hospital.”

“Not so hard.”

Humphrey laughed merrily.

“What makes you think Kazimi won’t come around to seeing it your way?”

“He’s cut me off—gone silent. No word since argument.”

“Are you sure he’s all right? Could something have happened to him?”

Humphrey returned to his joystick.