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Chapter Three

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When Felix awoke the next morning, his nervousness was gone. He’d slept like a log, it was beautiful outside, and the headlines on the news communicator spoke of sports, off-world projects, and upgrades to the weather template. There was no mention of people collapsing at random and that meant yesterday’s crisis had passed. He would have joked with Mentor had they not been studying physics together.

“Explain the importance of Johann Clavius.”

“He discovered the unified field equation in 2165.”

“Good. What else?”

“By using principles of hyper-spatial geometry, he proved three particles exist that can travel faster than the speed of light.”

“And what does this imply, theoretically, at least?”

“If these particles have the same magnetic spin, and are aligned along a certain vector path, their time coefficient can be transposed.”

“And?”

“Theoretically, they would vanish into the past.”

“And the equation for this process is …?”

“I … I … can’t remember.”

“Review it as you travel to Rome. And speaking of Rome, you have five minutes and fifteen seconds to catch the 8:36 shuttle.”

Felix rose from the table and walked by a scanner, being sure to expose his teeth to its rays. Grabbing a copy of Virgil’s Aeneid — whose contents he was trying to learn by heart — he approached the door to his father’s bedroom.

“I’m off!” he announced.

“Are you visiting the Forum?” his father asked.

“I think I’ll tour the Domus Aurea. But my shuttle’s leaving. I’ll see you later this afternoon. Dad? Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” his father spoke. “Have a great day, fili mi.”

“You, too. Bye.”

A minute later, Felix was exiting his building. He chuckled. His shuttle was leaving in ninety-three seconds yet he would catch it because there was hardly any lineup at the Portal. Was this his lucky day?

At Central Depot he was in such a rush that there wasn’t time to take in his surroundings. It was only when he’d clambered on board that he noticed the craft was strangely empty. Normally the aisles were packed with commuters, to the point where the auto-steward would have to guide him to a seat, whereas today less than half the g-pods were full. Was there a public holiday or something?

Unless ….

Before his thoughts could sour, Stephen Gowan waved him over. He was sitting at the front of the craft and the pod across from him happened to be vacant. Did he want to apologize for his brusqueness yesterday?

“Hello!” Felix greeted him, seating himself.

“It feels … busy,” Stephen said, with a look of confusion.

“Busy?” Felix laughed, mistaking his intention, “How can you say that when the shuttle’s half empty?”

“Is it cold in here?” Stephen asked. His hands were shaking slightly.

“It feels normal to me.”

He was going to ask Stephen where he worked in Rome, but his g-pod’s membrane closed and the floor vibrated — signs the shuttle had left its moorings. Activating an external monitor, he watched as a tractor beam steered them from the depot and lifted them above the downtown district. He glanced into the offices that drifted past.

“Felix,” Stephen gasped over his pod’s speaker, “Have you undergone ERR?”

“No. When the time came to decide, I opted out at my father’s suggestion.”

“So … you know fear?”

“Well, I experience it from time to time. You must remember it, too, from when you were young.” He was gazing at the monitor still. The shuttle had floated past a line of windows yet he’d glimpsed a total of fifteen people. Where was everybody? And instead of accelerating, the shuttle was braking.

“Beneath my ERR, I’m afraid,” Stephen whispered.

“Afraid of what?”

“There’s something inside me. It’s about to explode.”

“What’s inside you? You look kind of pale.”

“It’s too late. It’s taking over ….”

Slumping forward, he exposed the whites of his eyes. The shuttle halted and a whistle sounded.

“Honoured passengers,” the auto-steward spoke, “InterCity Services regrets to inform you that Shuttle 947, from Toronto to Rome, is experiencing five medical crises on board. A Medevac will dock with us in seven seconds and convey affected passengers to a nearby Health Facility. Shuttle 947 will then return to the main depot. All g-force pods have been hermetically sealed and will disengage on the completion of our disinfectant protocols. We apologize …”

Before the steward could finish its announcement, each Teledata screen displayed a message in bold letters: “Stay tuned for a broadcast from our Global President.” A countdown appeared. One minute and ten seconds, nine, eight, seven …

The shuttle trembled slightly. A ceiling panel above Stephen opened and a Flexbot arm shot into the cabin. Before Felix had a chance to address him, his pod was hoisted into an Evac-tube. Felix glimpsed his face and almost flinched in horror: normal just moments before, it was covered now with blood-red blisters. And his fingertips looked like they’d been steeped in red ink.

… Thirty-two, thirty-one, thirty …

And Stephen wasn’t the only one affected. Two seats behind him a man had toppled over, and a well-dressed lady further down was crumpled up, with a Portadoc lying on its side by her feet. Flexbots were busy removing them as well.

… Twelve, eleven, ten …

Felix thought his heart would explode. What was happening? Why had all these people fainted? What did their blisters and red fingertips mean? Were they dying? Was it his turn next …?

… Three, two, one …

As soon as the countdown expired, a face filled his screen — as well as every other screen on board the shuttle. Felix recognized Sajit Gupta at once, three-time president of the World Federation. A handsome man with a friendly manner, President Gupta was subdued at that moment.

“My fellow citizens,” he spoke in a sober tone, “I’m afraid I have worrying news to deliver. Five days ago a virus came to our attention, a strain our immunologists had never seen. The Federation wasn’t concerned, but quarantined its victims and set to work on finding a vaccine. Now, four days later, the virus has infected millions. A mere three people have died so far, but the rest are ill and require hospitalization. As far as any vaccine is concerned, I regret to say it has eluded us still …”

Felix gasped. This was even worse than he’d imagined.

“In an effort to contain this virus, my government has published a decree that prohibits citizens from traveling at large. We insist that you remain inside your homes, monitor your health at six-hour intervals, and obey the authorities should you suffer infection. All transportation has been cancelled forthwith, and this ban includes all off-world traffic. Failure to comply with these rules will result in arrest and immediate detention.”

There was a bump as the shuttle returned to its moorings. Felix’s g-pod opened, but he didn’t move. He lacked the strength to budge from that spot.

“My dear citizens, over the last hundred years we have conquered hunger, war, and most diseases. Science has served us well in the past, and I feel confident it will rescue us again. In the meantime, I beg you to remain optimistic. We will eliminate this plague but we must trust in our reason. As always I wish you the best blessings I can think of, peace, rationality and constructive thoughts.”

The president waved and the screen went blank. Immediately, an alarm bell rang and the steward ordered passengers to leave by the closest exit. A line of people shuffled down the aisle, quietly, calmly, betraying no fear. As Felix watched them and wrestled with his panic, he envied them their ERR. It’s too bad his father was opposed … His father! Felix leaped to his feet. Was his dad still at home or had he left for work? He’d looked frail and tired the day before and Felix prayed this didn’t mean … Running down the aisle, he exited the shuttle.

The scene that confronted him in the station was ghastly. A good dozen people had collapsed to the tiles and a line of Service Units was hauling them off. A girl kept repeating she wanted to stay, but the machines had their orders and were deaf to her pleas. An older man was crawling on all fours, in an effort to escape the units’ cold touch. Auto-ushers were everywhere and escorting commuters to their destinations.

The lineups at the Portals were maddeningly long. People were standing a distance from each other and covering their mouths with anything at hand — handkerchiefs, socks, baseball caps. Without warning, a woman in front of Felix fainted and the crowd instantly stepped away. They were a frightening sight with their impassive eyes and strips of fabric concealing their faces. A second person dropped, then another and another. Felix was half breathless with terror when at last he reached the head of the line.

“Destination please,” a voice asked politely, as if this day were just like any other.

“Area 2, Sector 4, Building 9,” Felix panted, shuddering as a lady sprouted blisters before his eyes.

“Processing,” the voice announced. Then, an eternity later, “Please advance.”

He almost laughed, the change was so abrupt. One moment he was being hemmed in by death; the next he was standing in front of his building and a warm sun was caressing him. He almost convinced himself he’d escaped the disaster, when he spied a figure immediately before him: half the man’s body was sprawled on the pathway, while half was lying on the manicured lawn. The victim was dressed in a black Zacron suit and was clutching a book that was bound in blue leather, his fingertips a telltale scarlet. The face was turned away, but Felix knew who it was.

“Dad!” he screamed, hastening forward.

“Don’t approach him!” a voice called from above. “You’ll get yourself infected. Besides, a Medevac will be here soon.”

Ignoring this advice, Felix ran to his father. He was very still, didn’t seem to be breathing and his face was disfigured with disquieting blisters. Just as Felix was assuming the worst, Mr. Taylor opened his eyes and managed a faint smile.

Fili mi. Thank goodness you’re here.”

“Don’t speak. Save your strength.”

“Felix. Listen closely. We’ve seen this plague before. Aceticus describes it.”

“Shh,” Felix soothed him, thinking he was confused. “A Medevac is on the way.”

Sure enough there was a buzzing overhead and, above the treetops, a Medevac swooped near. As it hovered closer, Felix glanced into its cockpit: the sight of the auto-drive was deeply unnerving.

“Felix?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“It’s all in there,” his father wheezed, motioning to the book by his side. “Read it carefully. It might prove useful.”

“The Medevac’s above us,” Felix said.

“We survived the plague once, and we can survive it again if —”

“This is Medevac OS3201,” an automated voice announced, cutting Mr. Taylor off. As the vehicle hovered fifty feet above the ground, a panel opened and released a one-man stretcher that descended on a trio of miniature jets. Felix didn’t like the look of this contraption: with its transparent cover and retractable arms, whose ends were equipped with metal grapplers, it resembled more a beast of prey than a medical contrivance.

“Felix,” his father whispered. His voice was growing weaker.

“Yes, Dad?”

“You’ve made me proud. I’m lucky to have had a son like you.”

“Don’t give up. The doctors will help ….”

“Step aside from the patient,” the voice declared. The stretcher was only four feet off the ground and was casting a shadow over Mr. Taylor. Already both its arms were extended. Felix shifted slightly, to accommodate the stretcher, but continued clutching his father.

“Read Aceticus,” he gasped. His eyes were fluttering shut.

“I will. And when you return —”

Puer mi, this is serious …”

“You’ll get better. Mom will return and —”

“Remember me!” his father cried.

The stretcher had landed. With mechanical efficiency, its arms seized hold of Mr. Taylor and lifted his body onto the mattress. Two bands of metal secured him in place.

“Remember me!” his father repeated, squeezing his son one final time. He then fainted and his hand slipped from Felix’s fingers. There was a pneumatic hiss as the cover drew closed. Before Felix could speak, the stretcher started to rise.

“Don’t go!” Felix cried. “I want to stay with my father!”

“Remain still please,” a voice addressed him.

Felix had to cover his eyes. A pulsing light passed over his body and seemed to ignite his internal organs, as if the beam were entering every one of his cells. For a moment Felix couldn’t breathe — he felt he was drowning in a pool of sunlight. Then the blaze quickly vanished and he opened his eyes.

“Our probes show you are uninfected,” the voice said. “This vehicle is reserved for patients who are ill.”

“My father needs me! He’ll be lonely by himself …!”

“Transport regulations cannot be broken.”

“Then tell me where you’re taking him!”

“Consult Health Services for that information.”

“That’s ridiculous! Wait! Don’t go!”

But the stretcher was inside the vessel now. And once its egress had been resealed, the craft rose quickly and fired its thrusters. A moment later it had disappeared.

Felix was dumbfounded. His father was … gone. When would he see him? He wasn’t going to …?

A noisy buzzing interrupted his thoughts. A second Medevac passed and paused above a nearby building. Dozens were now visible — they seemed to occupy the heavens. In the downtown area a siren was blaring.

Felix stirred himself. Retrieving his father’s blue book, he shot into their building and raced past the entrance. In the lobby he ignored a man who was prostrate on the tiles and being “prepped” by a Personal Servant. He held his breath as he rode a Vacu-lift and hurried down a hallway and paused before a security scan. And when he was safe inside the dwelling, he directed Mentor to bolt the doors and windows. Still not satisfied with these precautions, he ran to his bedroom and hid under the blankets.

And still he was sure that Death was lurking in the shadows.

Felix Taylor Adventures 2-Book Bundle

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