a cure: They drank the blood of a specific species of monkey that also carried the disease. I was intrigued, so I brought home live virus from victims as well as various monkeys' blood. What I found was startling, but rather elegantly logical."
Haldane stared. "Go on."
Victor Tremont took a long drink of the cognac, smacked his lips in appreciation, and smiled over the top of the snifter at his boss. "The monkeys were infected by the same virus as the humans. But it's a strange one. The virus lies dormant for years inside its host, rather like the HIV virus before it becomes AIDS. Oh, a small fever perhaps, some headaches, other sudden and brief pains, but nothing lethal until, apparently spontaneously, it mutates, gives symptoms of a heavy cold or mild flu for two weeks or so, and then becomes lethal to both humans and monkeys. However, and this was key, it strikes earlier and with far less severity in the monkeys. Many monkeys survive, and their blood is full of neutralizing antibodies to the mutated virus. The Indians learned this, by trial and error I expect, so when they fell ill they drank the blood and were cured. In most cases, anyway, if they got the right monkey's blood."
Tremont leaned forward. "The beauty of this symbiosis is that no matter how the virus mutates, the mutation always appears in the monkeys first, which means antibodies are always available for any mutation. Isn't that an exquisite bit of nature?"
"Stunning," Haldane said drily. "But I see no avenue to profit in your anecdote. Does this virus exist elsewhere where there's no natural cure?"
"Absolutely nowhere as far as we've been able to ascertain. That's the key to the Hades Project."
"Enlighten me. Please. I can't wait."
Tremont laughed. "Sarcasm. One step at a time, Mercer." He stood up and walked to the bar. He poured more of the chairman's fine cognac. Seated again, he crossed his knees. "Of course, we couldn't very well import millions of monkeys and kill them for their blood. Not to mention that not all monkeys carried the antibodies, and that blood would deteriorate rapidly anyway. So first we had to isolate the virus and the antibodies in the blood. Then we had to establish methods of large-scale production and provide a broad enough spectrum to accommodate some of the spontaneous mutations over time."
"I suppose you're going to tell me you did all this."
"Absolutely. We isolated the virus and were capable of production within the first year. The rest took varying lengths of time, and we finalized the recombinant antiserum only last year. Now we have millions of units ready to ship. It's been patented as a cure for the monkey virus, without mentioning the human virus, of course. That's going to appear to be a bit of luck. Our costs have been inflated and well tabulated, so we can claim a higher price to the public, and we've applied for FDA approval."
Haldane was incredulous. "You don't have FDA approval?"
"When the pandemic starts, we'll get instant approval."
"When it starts?" It was Haldane's turn to laugh. A derisive laugh. "What pandemic? You mean there's no epidemic of the virus to use your serum on? My God, Victor---"
Tremont smiled. "There will be."
Haldane stared. "Will be?"
"There have been six recent cases in the United States, three of which we secretly cured with our serum. More victims here are coming down with it, plus there have already been over a thousand deaths overseas. In a few days, the globe will know what it's facing. It won't be pretty."
Mercer Haldane sat motionless at his desk. Cognac forgotten. Cigar burning the desktop where the stub had fallen from the ashtray. Tremont waited, the smile never leaving his smooth face. His iron-gray hair and tan skin glowed in the lamplight. When Haldane finally spoke, his rigidity was painful to witness, even for Tremont.
But Haldane's voice was controlled. "There's some part of this scheme you aren't telling me."
"Probably," Tremont said.
"What is it?"
"You don't want to know."
Haldane thought that over for a time. "No, it won't play. You're going to prison, Victor. You'll never work again."
"Give me some credit. Besides, you're in as deep as I am."
Haldane's white eyebrows shot up in surprise. "There's no way---!"
Tremont chuckled. "Hell, you're in deeper. My ass is covered. Every order, every requisition, and every expenditure was approved and signed by you. Everything we did has your authorization in writing. Most of it's real because when you get in an irritable mood,