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Sam ducked his head.
“Give him a break, Carly. He thought it was a threat.”
Carly sighed. “Did you find the nest?”
“Oh, Jesus, no...” Justin moaned.
“I don’t know for sure there was a nest. Just my theory as to why the little bastard attacked me.”
“We have to search for it,” Carly said. “If there are babies, they’ll starve without our help.”
Justin pointed a finger at Stan. “If she comes out of that building with an armful of those damn things, you’re gonna wish the raccoon had gotten you.”
But no nest was found. Justin even caved from Carly’s cajoling and climbed on top of desks to shine his flashlight in ducts. “The things I do for you, woman...”
“I know,” Carly said. “That’s why I love you so much.”
He smiled at her. “Because I climb on desks?”
“Because you’ll do it if it makes me happy.”
They reached the top floor and the executive offices. They were huge and plush. The President—as his doorplate referred to him—had half the floor to himself, with rich wood paneled walls, thick carpet, and leather furniture. Sam hopped up on one of the sofas and settled down for a nap.
Behind the desk was a pile of papers someone had tried to burn. Paper isn’t as flammable as most people think, and only part of the top layer had burned. Carly sat down beside it. She took off her baby sling and laid Dagny down beside her. The baby grinned and stuck a foot in her mouth.
“You all right here for a while?” Justin asked.
“Yes, fine. What are you doing?”
“I’m going to bring the horses and wagon inside. There’s a gymnasium on the ground floor.”
“Won’t their hooves slip?”
Justin shook his head. “It’s got one those rubber tile floors. I’ll put out a couple of buckets of water and a can of feed, and they’ll be perfectly happy.”
“Hurry back,” she said, and he bent to press a kiss to her lips.
“Always.”
She began to sort through the pile of unburned papers. Most were financial records. Stan might be able to make sense of why someone had thought they needed to be burned during the apocalypse, but she could not.
At the bottom of the pile, she found an internal memo marked “Confidential.” It stated a “mistake” was made when Cederna assured the military they would have enough flu vaccine to fulfill their contract. As a result, they planned to buy vaccine from Baker-Lewis Pharmaceuticals to make up for their shortage. Purchasing the Baker-Lewis vaccine was cheaper than manufacturing their own, so there was some discussion of curtailing production in the future and buying the vaccine to resell to their contracts.
That explained why everyone in the military hadn’t been immune. But what was the difference between the vaccines themselves?
Another memo. There had been some severe allergic reactions to the vaccine made by Cederna by people who were allergic to eggs. The Baker-Lewis vaccine had lower egg protein content, but both vaccines had shipped out under the Cederna label, so there was no way of differentiating the two at the point of delivery. The memo addressed the proposal that Cederna could announce the lower-egg-content vaccine as an alternative line, but the writer was concerned that calling attention to two different methods of manufacture might reveal the purchase from Baker-Lewis, and their contract could be terminated the following year.
She handed the papers to Justin when he returned. He closed one eye, moved the paper closer, and then shook his head. “I can’t right now. The words are jumping all over the page.”
Carly took it and read it to him. “Do you think the eggs could have had anything to do with it?”
“Lower bioavailability in one or the other, perhaps. I can’t say.”
“Bio what?”
“Some drugs are easier for the body to absorb and process,” Justin said. “And some types of vaccines trigger a stronger immune system response. It could be the higher protein content vaccine was more effective. It could be the Infection resembled the viruses in the flu vaccine closely enough so the people who got that shot were able to fight it off.”
“Maybe there’s a paper in here that says which version went to retail stores. You got yours from a doctor, though, right?”
