Invasion

Cassy went back to the telephone, and despite knowing it was in vain, tried calling the cabin again. As she'd expected, there was still no answer. But as the phone rang she thought that there was at least a small possibility that even if the cabin had been discovered, one or more might have gotten away. That was when she thought about what Jonathan had been so patient to teach her: logging onto the Internet.

By the time Cassy got back to the car, the discomfort she felt in her nose had spread down to her throat, and she began to cough. At first it was only a clearing of her throat, but it quickly progressed to a cough.

Cassy drove into the town. There was still some traffic, but it was slight. In contrast there were thousands of people walking about and busily involved with all the necessities of life. A lot of people were gardening. Everyone was smiling, and there was little conversation.

Cassy parked the car and got out onto the sidewalk. Although many businesses were still functioning, others were deserted as if the employees had just stood up at some arbitrary time and walked out the door. Nothing was locked.

One of the empty businesses was a dry-cleaning store. Cassy went inside but didn't find what she was looking for. Instead she found it next door in a copying concern. What she wanted was a computer connected to a modem.

Cassy sat down and activated the screen. When the employees had left they hadn't even turned the equipment off. Remembering Jonathan's Internet name, Jumpin Jack Flash, Cassy began typing.

"This is all you have?" Sheila asked Harlan. She was holding a small vial of clear fluid.

"That's it for now," Harlan said. "But I got a batch of mice with the hybridoma cells implanted in their peritoneal cavities as well as a bunch of cell cultures cooking in the incubator. We can certainly extract more of this monoclonal antibody. But it's only weakly active. I'd much rather try to find a more avid antibody-producing cell."

Sheila, Pitt, and Jonathan had taken showers and rested briefly, but were too wired to sleep. Sheila was especially anxious to get working and had urged Harlan to show her everything he'd done.

Jonathan and Pitt had tagged along. Pitt was having trouble following Harlan's explanations, whereas Jonathan didn't even try. Since he hadn't had much biology, it all sounded like Greek to him. Instead Jonathan ignored the others, sat down at one of the many terminals available, and started typing.

"I'll show you two the process used to select B lymphocytes from emulsified mouse spleen," Harlan said. "Provided you show me the virions you and Jonathan's mother isolated."

"We're not positive the virions are in the tissue culture," Sheila said. ''We just suspect they are. We were just about ready to isolate them."

"Well, we can find out simply enough," Harlan said.

"Oh my God!" Jonathan called out suddenly.

Shocked by this outburst, everyone looked across at Jonathan. His eyes were glued to the monitor.

"What's the matter?" Pitt asked nervously.

"It's a message from Cassy!" Jonathan cried.

Pitt practically vaulted over a lab bench to get to Jonathan's side. He stared at the monitor with wide eyes.

"She's typing into the mail drop this instant," Jonathan said. "I mean this is a real-time phenomenon."

"This is fantastic," Pitt managed.

"What a cool girl," Jonathan said. "She's doing just like I taught her."

"What's she saying?" Sheila asked. "Is she saying where she is?"

"Oh no!" Jonathan said. "She says she's been infected."

"Damn!" Pitt agonized, gritting his teeth.

"She says she's already experiencing the first symptoms of the flu," Jonathan continued. "She wants to wish us good luck."

"Contact her!" Pitt shouted. "Now, live, before she signs off."

"Pitt, it's no use," Sheila said. "It will just make it more difficult. She's infected!"

"She might be infected, but obviously she's still Cassy," Pitt said. "Otherwise she wouldn't be wishing us good luck." He forcibly nudged Jonathan aside and started typing furiously.

Jonathan looked up at Sheila. Sheila shook her head. Although she knew it was wrong, she didn't have the heart to stop him.

For Cassy the image on the monitor was intermittently blurry. As she'd typed the tears had come. Closing her eyes for a moment and wiping them with the back of her hand, she tried to get herself under control. She wanted to leave one last message for Pitt. She wanted to tell him that she loved him.

Opening her eyes and returning her hands to the keyboard, Cassy was about to type her last sentence when a live message popped onto her screen. She gazed at it in astonishment. It said: "Cassy, it's me, Pitt. Where are you?"

It was the longest few seconds of Pitt's life. He goggled at the monitor and willed it to respond. Then as if answering a prayer, the black characters began popping out of the luminous background.

"Yes!" Pitt shouted while punching the air with a fist. "I caught her. She knows I'm here."