wasps, go on to infect other creatures. (That's right, even parasites have parasites. Isn't nature wonderful?) In this way, wolbachia is slowly remaking the world in its own image; without ever leaving the safety of home.
So what about you? You're not an insect or a worm. Why worry about wolbachia?
Meet the filarial worm, a parasite that infects biting flies. It happens to be one of wolbachia's big success stories. All of these worms are infected. If you "cure" a filarial worm with antibiotics, it can't have kids anymore. It's dependent on its own parasites - one of many species genetically engineered to be wolbachia carriers.
So what happens when a fly infected with filarial worms bites you? The worms crawl into your skin and lay eggs there. The eggs hatch, and the babies swim around in your bloodstream, some of them winding up in your eyeballs. Fortunately, the baby worms don't hurt your eyes. Unfortunately, the wolbachia they carry sets off a red alert in your immune system. Your own immune system attacks your eyeballs, and you go blind.
Why does wolbachia do this? What is its evolutionary strategy in blinding human beings?
No one knows. One thing is for sure, though: Wolbachia wants to rule the world.
Chapter 13
Chapter 13
HOPEFUL MONSTERS
"Dude, get up."
My brain came awake slowly, appalled at the interruption of its first real sleep in ages. Then I smelled Lace's jasmine hair, heard Cornelius's claws scratching the closet door, felt the rat's infection in the air... and all of yesterday's memories crashed into place.
There was a deadly reservoir bubbling to the surface near the Hudson River. The parasite had jumped to a new vector species. I had betrayed the Night Watch, risking civilization as I knew it. And the most important thing? For the first time in six months I had spent the night with a girl, if only in the most narrow, technical sense.
Suddenly, I was awake, and feeling pretty decent.
"Come on, dude," Lace said, stabbing my shoulder with the toe of her shoe. "I've got class, but I want to show you something."
"Okay." I pulled myself from the bed, eyes gummy, my slept-in clothes clinging to me. Lace had already showered and changed, and a wondrous smell filled the apartment, even more wondrous than hers. "Is that coffee?"
She handed me a cup, smiling. "You got it, Sherlock. Man, you sleep like a dead dog."
"Huh. Guess I needed it." I gulped the coffee, strong and welcome, while crossing to the fridge and pulling out a package of emergency franks. My parasite was screaming for meat, having missed out on its usual midnight snacks. I ripped the plastic open and shoved a cylinder of cold flesh in my mouth.
"Whoa," Lace said. "Breakfast of crackheads."
"Hungry." It came out muffled through the half-chewed meat.
"Whatever wakes you up." Lace sat at the tiny table that separated the kitchen from my living room and pointed to a piece of paper on it.
Cornelius was screaming for food, winding around my feet. On autopilot, I opened a can.
"So I got this out of your coat pocket," Lace said. "And I noticed something weird."
"Wait. You did what?" I looked over her shoulder - spread across the table were the building plans Chip had printed for me. "You went through my pockets?"
"It was sticking out, dude. Besides, you and I have no secrets now." She shuddered. "Except that food; close your mouth while chewing."
I did, managing a necessary swallow.
"This is the basement of my building, right?" Lace continued. "No, don't open your mouth. I know it is." She stabbed at one corner of the printout. "And this is the rat pool below the health club. Did you get these plans from city records?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"Very interesting. Because they don't match reality. They don't show a swimming pool at all."
I swallowed. "You know how to read blueprints?"
"I know how to do research - and how to read." Her fingers traced a grid of little squares that filled one corner of the page. Next to it, the words Storage Units were neatly written. "See? No pool."
I studied the plans silently for a moment - remembering what Chip had said the day before. The pool was a few yards deep, just deep enough to reach the Underworld. Because someone had added a swimming pool, Morgan had been infected. Then me and Sarah and Maria ...
"A simple little change," I said softly. "How ironic."
"Dude, screw irony. I just wanted you to see how clever we journalism students are."
"You mean how snoopy you are."
Lace just grinned,