Minutes to Burn

The "author," or discoverer of the species, was listed as "Scudder, S.H." in an 1893 article titled, "Reports on the dredging operations off the west coast of Central America to the Galapagos to the West Coast of Mexico and in the Gulf of California, incharge of Alexander Agassiz, carried on by the U.S. Fish Commission Steamer Albatross during 1891, Lieut. Commander Z. L. Tanner, U.S.N., Commanding."

Derek ducked into the tent, his hair damp with sweat. "Jesus, the sun," he said.

Rex waved a hand to silence him, focused on the next page in the sketch pad-another sketch, this time of a praying mantis ootheca. It was ensconced along a branch on a tree that had fallen over, making a clearing in the forest and leaving the ootheca exposed to the sun. Rex tapped the bulge of the ootheca segment in his bag. "Frank must have pulled this from the ootheca he drew," he said. "The picture explains the sun damage."

To caption the sketch, Frank had scrawled the mathematical symbol for "approximately" and then 250 offspring. Beside that, he'd written Ten viable.

Cameron pointed at Frank's note. "What's that mean?"

"Mantids usually lay oothecas from which two hundred to two hun-dred fifty nymphs are spawned. I don't know what 'ten viable' means. 'Viable,' as an evolutionary term, means that a mutated organism can develop and survive given favorable circumstances, but I don't see how that would be relevant here." Rex shook his head. "That's Frank for you. Typically vague."

He flipped the page, but the next sheet in the sketchbook was blank, save nine tallies, ticked off like a billiards score on a chalkboard. Rex tapped the sheet, frustrated. "Frank usually took copious notes," he said.

Outside, the flap came loose on the other tent, snapping in the wind, and they all started at the sudden sound.

Derek shrugged. "That was before the tree monster got him."

Chapter 29

Samantha had finally drifted off when she heard Tom Straussman yelling at her through the glass. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing her eyes and feeling like a zoo animal.

"Get over here!" Tom shouted. "Take a look at this!" He slamm-ed a micrograph against the glass and Samantha hazily rose to her feet and shuffled across the slammer, muttering something about ticktacktoe.

When she saw the micrograph, her eyes widened. The virus that Dr. Denton had sent over, stored in the dinoflagellates of the water samples, had been blown up to enormous magnification. The micrograph showed several pairings of slender strands connected by horizontal bars, like tiny ladders. The pairings were all twisted and bore a remarkable resemblance to DNA, which was odd since the magnification was only high enough to capture gross viral particles.

Samantha stared at the print, her mind racing. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen.

"I've sent it to diagnostics to run genetic sequencing on it," Tom said. "Reverse transcriptase, polymerase chain reaction, nucleic acid probe test-the whole nine yards. I'd like to see if we can find a match in the gene bank."

Samantha tried to swallow, but her throat clicked dryly. She felt the movement of her heart in her chest. "You won't find a match in the gene bank."

"Well, we'll see after diagnostics-"

"You can run diagnostics all year, it's still not gonna show us how the virus acts." She blinked hard, trying to focus. "That shipment of rabbits for the Crimean Congo tests. Did it arrive?"

Tom nodded.

"I want them in here," Samantha said. "In the operating room." She pointed through the crash door. "And I want a pellet of the virus." Tom started to object, but Samantha closed her eyes, feeling her heartbeat pounding in her temples. "Now!"

Fifteen minutes later, she stood in the operating room, the rabbit cages at her feet. A syringe full of the virus poised in one hand, she bent over and opened the top of the cage, pulling up a rabbit by the scruff of its neck. Tom and several other colleagues watched her from the obser-vation post. Samantha injected the first rabbit, setting it back in its cage, then followed with the remaining five. The other scientists looked on silently.

She finished and crossed to the window, looking at Tom. Behind her, the rabbits thumped softly in their cages.

"The first rule of virology," she said. "Let the disease be your teacher."

Chapter 30

Szabla pulled her shirt off and tossed Tucker a bottle of sunblock, pointing to her back and straddling the cruise box. Justin was working Tank's hamstring and from the expression on Tank's face doing a pretty good job.