The Archbishop motioned around him. Even now, I still repay David ben Solomon for the exorbitant loan he bestowed upon me to complete this house. This humble shrine to the Lord, built with money from an Israelite. A debt my parishioners might never be able to repay.

It is unfortunate, Your Grace, I said.

There are those who believe the Jews have been spreading this pestilence all along. I have heard whispers that the rabbis, those pagan priests of the Jews, are poisoning the wells.

But Your Grace, how is that possible when this miasma spreads through the air like a vapor?

The Archbishop did not appear to hear me. When he spoke again his eyes seemed to look right through me. Doctor Pasqua, is it not my duty as a spiritual leader to take any and all steps to protect the faithful?

I thought again of those doomed residents who were barricaded into their own homes and left to die. For the first time in days, I experienced another chill.

Chapter

Thirty-Three

Even though Alana sat at the same long conference table only three and a half days earlier, it feels more like a month. Her good shoulder aches for a change, after being vaccinated a few minutes before. The limited supply of American military plague vaccine arrived that same day, and the meeting’s attendees were among the first to receive doses.

Sunlight streams through the thin shade covering the window of the Municipo’s top-floor conference room, bathing the room in a bright glare. The table is as crowded as before, but many of the faces have changed. The Italian minister of health, Laura Pivetti, has joined her doughy-faced deputy at the table. Pivetti is a good-looking, olive-skinned woman of about Alana’s age who has an air of someone accustomed to getting her way. Several other officials are also present, including Sergio Fassino, Genoa’s mayor, and the entire WHO team.

Byron spends the first ten minutes updating the attendees on the outbreak. He projects on the screen above him the same image of its spread that he shared with Alana. Charts, maps, and tables demonstrate the geographical and chronological extent of the disease.

“We have fifty-six infected. Twenty-two dead so far.” Byron pauses and the room goes dead silent. “Inevitably, this will only be the tip of the iceberg.”

“So just to review, Dr. Menke,” Pivetti says in a tone that only heightens the already taut atmosphere. “This epidemic has increased from two cases to almost sixty in the time since the WHO has been managing it?”

“That is correct, Minister.” Byron breaks into a smile of pure defiance. “Of course, almost half of those cases were incubating before we arrived. And in that same time frame, we have seen the fatality rate drop from one hundred percent to roughly forty percent. There has been no further in-hospital transmission. And so far, no spread beyond Genoa.”

Pivetti views him icily. “Yet I would not describe the situation as controlled. Would you?”