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Drew gestured toward the women's slit throats. "Everybody calls it sneezing flu, so people think they can only catch it from a sneeze. I bet they killed these women first, so—no sneezing, but the bodies were still warm. Dead wouldn't bother some men, if they thought it meant they were safe."

"So I have a question," said Cole. "And Babe is the one most likely to know the answer." He started to move away from the others. Behind him, he heard the others still talking.

"Burn the bodies?" asked Drew.

"And notify the hostiles that we're on their trail?" asked Cat. "What are you thinking?"

"Cole's wearing the big Noodle, not me," said Drew.

Meanwhile, Cole had made his way over to where Babe was on watch. Without any need for orders, Mingo had run ahead to take Babe's place, and Babe jogged back toward Cole.

"You've been with the doctors," said Cole. "So you know stuff about how this disease spreads."

"I was doing security. They didn't exactly discuss the science with me."

"Well, you're likely to know more than t

he rest of us. What Ineed to know is—first, there are two forms of the disease, right? The one spread by blood contact, and the other by sneezing."

"That's just a working hypothesis," said Babe. "There were only four who died from the quick bloody disease. Everybody else has the slow-to-show sneezing version, because that's the one people live long enough to spread."

"That's the thing," said Cole. "Are they the same virus?"

"Maybe somebody knows now, but they'd be in Atlanta or Reston, where the monkeys and the corpses of the first victims were taken. When I was with the doctors they didn't have a clue."

"Damn," said Cole. "I have to know—the guys who did this rape, are they going to catch the sneezing flu and show no symptoms for a week, or are they going to drop dead with blood coming out of their eyes six hours after they did this?"

"Who cares?" asked Babe. "Just a few more guys we don't have to kill."

"If they only catch the sneezing flu," said Cole, "then the most important thing we can do is make sure these guys live to get back to Hausa country."

Babe got it at once. "Oh, man. A bunch of Typhoid Marys."

"As soon as the epidemic reaches the north, then this whole operation goes away. It's going to happen eventually, because there's no way, not even genocide, to hold this back. The only real boundaries are the Sahara and the ocean, the way Torrent planned it."

Babe grinned savagely. "Sounds like you think Torrent planned this epidemic."

"I meant the way he planned the African quarantine," said Cole, irritated.

"I know what you meant," said Babe.

"I don't know what you mean," said Cole. "Torrent isn't some evil scientist who created a virus and cleverly implanted it in a troop of monkeys that someone might or might not have found."

"Unless Chinma was a plant," said Babe.

"Paranoia check," said Cole. "You spent hours with the boy. Was he some stooge, or did his whole family really die?"

It was obvious Babe knew that Chinma was no fake. "Why can't it be both?" said Babe defiantly.

"Keep it real, Babe," said Cole. "You're scaring me, and not about President Torrent."

"Just speculating," said Babe. "Things occur to me, I talk them out."

Not if you didn't think they had some merit, thought Cole. And he remembered the guys talking about how the Bones would get them over the White House fences before the Secret Service could even react. "Back to my question," said Cole. "This village was still in the grip of the nicto. Could these rapists catch sneezing flu from the corpses?"

"Why are you asking me?" asked Babe.

"Because I hoped you knew."


Tags: Orson Scott Card Empire Science Fiction