Cecily brought a chair for Mark to sit on the other side of Cat's bed—a cot, really, everything Army issue and flown in when the university was first converted to military use. Then she went over and sat on the floor between Arty and Babe, because they were the only ones awake and watching the scene. She held their hands, which they seemed to appreciate. That was when they whispered to her about Mark being a good man.
It was about ten at night when Cat stopped breathing. It didn't bring a silence to the room—Drew and Mingo were both snoring and rasping too loudly for Cat's lack of breath to make much difference, and Benny and Arty were still in the savage coughing phase, and that noise, too, continued at frequent intervals.
But Cat's chest stopped moving.
Mark leaned closer—he had never seen death before, could not be sure, would still cling to hope. Cecily reached across Cat's body and cupped her hand behind his neck. "Oh, Mark," she said, "I'm so sorry."
Mark buried his face in his hands. Cole held out a shaky hand and rested it on Mark's head for a while. Then he started to get up from the chair. And failed.
"I'm so weak," he whispered to her. "I'm sorry, can you help me?"
Mark needed her and she didn't want to leave him. But every soldier on this base needed Cole. So she helped him get up and walk to the door. He was so weak that she knew she would have to help him all the way back to his quarters.
Mark stayed with Cat's body. Behind them, she could hear Arty say, softly, "Good-bye, Cat." Benny added, "God bless," and then went into a coughing fit.
Out in the corridor, Cecily talked softly as she helped support Cole's weight. "From what Mark tells me, the others are all staying hydrated and I think Cat may be the only one we lose. I hope so."
Cole only nodded.
"What about you?" she asked. "Are you being too macho to take your meds and drink? Getting up to come down here was crazy enough."
"Mark and Chinma boss me around," he said.
She knew that he understood that keeping himself alive was his primary duty right now. The Pentagon had asked him if he needed to be relieved, but he told them that there was no reason to bring in anybody else to be infected, he had good support from the caregivers group and enough soldiers were still functioning to keep the base going.
This last had been a lie, which he candidly admitted to Cecily after sending the message. Only a quarter of the soldiers were still in the coughing, prefever stage—they were able to perform some of their duties, but not all, and not well. He discussed it with Cecily because he needed to know how long it would take for the survivors to be back on duty.
"Limited clerical duty? Maybe three or four days after the fever breaks, if they've stayed fed and hydrated. Combat? Probably two months or longer."
Cole had chuckled at that.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
"These guys are special ops, every one of them," said Cole. "Bet you they report themselves fit for combat as soon as they can stand up without falling over."
"But you won't send them on missions," Cecily said.
"We'll assess our ability to carry out our mission when the time comes," said Cole.
Now, walking down the corridor with him, Cecily knew that having the disease himself must be changing his view of combat readiness. The nictovirus had brought down Cat Black, and Cole himself must be able to feel how weak and unsteady he was at the beginning of the fever stage. At the end of it, if he lived, he'd be far weaker. There'd be no jaunts down the hall for quite a while after that.
Cecily got him to his room. "I just want you to know," she said, "that Reuben would have been proud of the way you've led his jeesh."
Cole coughed, long and hard, wincing with every spasm.
She waited for the coughing to end. "Did I imagine it, or in the midst of your coughing did you actually say 'Bullshit'?"
He lay down on his cot. "I'm not their leader."
"After all your missions together, with you in command—"
"I'm their commander in combat and that's it," said Cole.
Even in his weakness, the anger was palpable. "What is it?" she said. "I thought you loved these guys."
"I did," said Cole. "I do."
"Then what's wrong?"