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“I—We believe so. My whole team has been tearing apart the 113 variation and we’ve learned that Dr. Volker used new mutations of Toxoplasma gondii, which had always been a key component of Lucifer. Those mutations were part of his process of the neurological control functions of the bioweapon. While the genetically reengineered green jewel wasp larvae drive the aggression of the infected, the toxoplasma control the brain. That’s part of the process of shutting down higher function while keeping active those nerves and processes responsible for walking, grabbing, biting, swallowing, and so on.”
“Cut to it, Dr. Price,” the president said tersely.
“This is context, Mr. President. It explains what I think might work. Using the older form of Lucifer we were experimenting with parasites that would essentially attack the modified parasites. We had a great deal of success with Neospora caninum, which is a parasite similar in form to Toxoplasma gondii, but one found predominantly in dogs. Under standard microscopic examination, the N. caninum sporozoite—which is the body of the parasite—closely resembles the T. gondii sporozoite, and both diseases share many of the same symptoms. However—and this is where we may have hit on it—the N. caninum infection has a much more severe impact on the neurological and muscular system of test subjects.”
“How so?” asked Blair, and once more that dangerous spark of hope flared in his chest.
“The N. caninum variations we’ve been developing as a possible response to Lucifer create a certain set of symptoms—all of them in extreme degrees—that include stiffness of the pelvis and legs, paralysis distinguished by gradual muscle atrophy in which the muscles essentially seize up and can’t move. A secondary set of symptoms include severe seizures, tremors, behavioral changes, weakness of the cervical muscles near to the neck, dysphagia—difficulty swallowing—and eventual paralysis of the muscles involved in respiration.”
“Which means what, damn it?” snapped the president.
“It means, Mr. President, that we might be able to introduce a hostile parasite to the infected that will make them blind and paralyzed. Quite literally it will stop them in their tracks.”
“Good God,” gasped Ruddy. “You’re talking about people.”
Dr. Price looked at her with heavily lidded eyes. “No, ma’am,” he said slowly, “once a person has been infected by Lucifer—by any version of Lucifer—they are no longer people. They are dead meat driven by a parasite.”
“How is this a cure?” demanded General Burroughs.
“No … you don’t understand,” Price said. “There is no cure. Maybe there will be one day, I don’t know. That would take years of research. You asked me how to stop the infected. That’s what this is. A weapon that can stop them.”
Blair watched the president’s face, saw how this news hurt him. He didn’t like the man, but right now he felt deeply sorry for him. And, to a lesser degree, for Price.
“What form would this weapon come in, Doctor?” asked Burroughs. “If it’s some kind of parasite…”
“Actually,” said Price, “the Chinese developed a toxoplasma delivery system in the nineties. We’ve codenamed it Reaper. Lurid, I know, but it was designed to attack and destroy, so we … well, anyway, we acquired it from them and—”
“What’s the potential effect of this Reaper on uninfected persons?” asked Blair.
Price paused on that. “We … don’t know. We’ve never tested this on people.”
“How do we use it?” interrupted the president.
“Airbursts. The modified N. caninum are held in stasis inside a dry medium that can be packed into rockets calibrated for low-level detonation over infected areas. How big is your quarantine zone?”
“The zone is a circle sixty-four miles across,” said Blair.
Price considered, quickly doing the math in his head. “That’s what—twelve-thousan
d eight hundred and sixty-one square miles?”
“And it could expand,” said Burroughs. “How much of this canine stuff do we need?”
“N. caninum,” corrected Price. “Or just Reaper. That’s what we’ve been calling it, too. Easier to say. Hold on, let me make that calculation.”
They watched him as he tapped for several excruciating moments on a laptop. Blair saw a frown carve itself deeply into Price’s face.
“Um … the required parasitic load would depend on population, terrain, and weather conditions. However, if we work with the prevailing winds, we could put enough of the parasite-rich medium in a standard airburst bomb or rocket to cover several square miles. Less in a high airburst in low winds. More in the current conditions. Call it fifty tons of the medium.”
That was ugly news.
“How fast can we get the Reaper material to Pennsylvania?” asked the president.
Price blinked like a bug. “Mr. President … we don’t have that much of the Reaper stockpiled.”
“How much do you have?”
“Between here and one other lab, maybe eight, nine kilos.”
