In the never-ending war on emerging diseases, Henry Parsons was not a small man; he was a giant.
Hans Somebody squinted and located Henry in the gloom of the upper tiers. “Not so unusual, Dr. Parsons, if you consider the environmental causation.”
“You used the word ‘transmission.’ ”
Hans smiled, happy to resume the game. “The Indonesian authorities at first suspected a viral agent.”
“What changed their minds?” Henry asked.
Maria had become intrigued. “You are thinking Ebola?”
“In which case we’d see likely migration to urban centers,” Hans said. “Not shown. All it took was to eliminate the source of contamination and the infection disappeared.”
“Did you actually go to the camp yourself?” Henry asked. “Take samples?”
“The Indonesian authorities have been fully cooperative,” Hans said dismissively. “There is a team from Médecins Sans Frontières in place now, and we will receive confirmation shortly. Don’t expect surprises.”
Hans waited a moment, but Henry sat back, thoughtfully tapping a finger on his lips. The next presenter resumed. “A slaughterhouse in Milwaukee,” he said, as a few conferees with an eye on the time ducked toward the exits. There was bound to be increased security at the airport.
* * *
—
“I HATE WHEN YOU do that,” Maria said, when they got to her office. It was glassy and stylish, with a fine view of Mont Blanc. A flock of storks, having hurdled the alpine barrier, circled for a landing beside Lake Geneva, their first stop on the spring migration from the Nile Valley.
“Do what?”
Maria leaned back and tapped her finger on her lips, imitating Henry’s gesture.
“Is that a habit of mine?” he asked, leaning his cane against her desk.
“When I see you do it, I know I should be worried. What makes you doubt Hans’s study?”
“Acute hemorrhagic fever. Very likely viral. Weird mortality distribution, totally inappropriate for shigella. And why did it suddenly—”
“Just stop? I don’t know, Henry, you tell me. Indonesia again?”
“They hid the ball before.”
“It doesn’t look like another meningitis outbreak.”
“Certainly not.” Despite himself, Henry involuntarily began tapping his lips again. Maria waited. “I shouldn’t tell you what to do,” he finally said. “Maybe Hans is right.”
“But…?”
“The lethality. Stunning. The downside if he’s wrong.”
Maria went to the window. Clouds were settling in, masking the majestic peak. She was about to speak when Henry interrupted her thought. “I’ve got to go.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“I mean home.”
Maria nodded in that way that meant she had heard him, but the worried expression in her Italian eyes sent a different message. “Give me two days. I know how much I’m asking. I should send a whole team, but I don’t have anybody I can trust. Hans says MSF is there, so they can help. Just get slides and samples. In and out and on your way back to Atlanta.”
“Maria…”
“Please, Henry.”
In the manner of friends who have known each other a long time, Henry saw a flash of the worried young epidemiologist studying the African swine fever outbreak in Haiti. Maria had been part of the team that advocated the eradication of the indigenous pig that carried the disease. Nearly every family in Haiti kept pigs; in addition to being a major source of food, they functioned as currency, a bank for the peasantry. Within a year, thanks to the efforts of the international community and the dictator “Baby Doc” Duvalier, the entire population of Creole pigs was extinct, a great success, almost unprecedented. The eradication stopped an incurable disease. But the peasants, already poor, were reduced to famine. The corrupt elite appropriated most of the replacement pigs the Americans provided, which were in any case too delicate for the environment and too expensive to feed. With no other resources, people turned to making charcoal, which denuded the forests. Haiti never recovered. It’s debatable whether the hogs should have been slaughtered in the first place. We were such confident idealists back then, Henry thought.
“Two days, maximum,” he said. “I promised Jill I’d be home for Teddy’s birthday.”
“I’ll have Rinaldo book you on the red-eye to Jakarta.” Maria assured him that she would call the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, in Atlanta, where Henry was deputy director for infectious diseases, and beg forgiveness; it was an emergency request on her part.
“By the way,” he said as he was leaving, “any word from Rome? Your family is safe?”
“We don’t know,” Maria said despairingly.
* * *
—
THE ROME ATTACK HAD BEEN planned for Carnevale, the eight-day festival that takes place all over Italy before Lent. The Piazza del Popolo was packed for the costume parade and