“You will never have to worry about funding for anything you care to work on,” Cross said. “We’ll put it in your contract. I’m that confident in you.”

But do I want to be a jewel in your crown, my queen? Kaye asked herself.

“I work on my instincts, Kaye. I’ve already had you checked out by my human resources people. They think you’ll be doing your best work in the decades to come. Work with us, Kaye. Nothing you ever do will be ignored or trivialized.”

Kushner laughed again, and Cross smiled at them both.

“I want to get out of this house as soon as I can,” Kaye said. “I wasn’t going down to Atlanta until next week…I’m looking for an apartment down there now.”

“I’ll ask my people to take care of it. We’ll find you something nice in Atlanta or Baltimore, wherever you settle.”

“My God,” Kaye said with a small smile.

“Something else I know is important to you. You and Saul did a lot of work in the Republic of Georgia. I may have the contacts to salvage that. I’d like to do a lot more research on phage therapy. I think I can persuade Tbilisi to pull back on the political pressure. It’s all ridiculous anyway — a bunch of amateurs trying to run things.”

Cross put a hand on her arm and squeezed gently. “Come with me now, fly to Washington, let’s see Mark and Frank, meet with anybody else you might want to talk to, get a feel for things. Make your decision in a couple of days. Consult your attorney if you wish. We’ll even provide a draft contract. If it doesn’t work out, I leave you with the CDC, no gripes, no grudges.”

Kaye turned to Kushner and saw on her mentor’s face the same expression she had shown when Kaye had told her she was going to marry Saul. “What kind of restrictions are there, Marge?” Kushner asked quietly, folding her hands in her lap.

Cross sat back and pursed her lips. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Scientific credit goes to the team. The company PR office orchestrates all press releases and oversees all papers for timeliness of release of information. No prima donna tactics. Financial rewards are shared in a very generous royalties deal.” Cross folded her arms. “Kaye, your lawyer is a little old and not too well versed on these things. Surely Judith can recommend a better one.”

Kushner nodded. “I’ll recommend a very good one…If Kaye is seriously considering your offer.” Her voice was a little pinched, disappointed.

“I’m not used to being courted with so many boxes of Go-divas and bunches of roses, believe me,” Kaye said, staring off at the carpet corner beyond the coffee table. “I would like to know what the Taskforce expects of me before I make any decision.”

“If you march into Augustine’s office with me, he’ll know what I’m up to. I think he’ll go along.”

Kaye surprised herself by saying, “Then I would like to fly to Washington with you.”

“You deserve it, Kaye,” Cross said. “And I need you. We’re not walking into a funhouse here. I want the best researchers, the best armor I can get.”

Outside, the snow was falling much faster. Kaye could see that Cross’s chauffeur had moved inside the car and was talking on a cell phone. A different world, so fast, busy, connected, with so little time to actually think.

Maybe this was just what she needed.

“I’ll call that attorney,” Kushner said. Then, to Cross, she said, “I’d like to speak to Kaye alone for a few minutes.”

“Of course,” Cross said.

In the kitchen, Judith Kushner took Kaye by the arm and looked at her with a fixed fierceness Kaye had rarely seen in her.

“You realize what’s going to happen,” she said.

“What?”

“You’re going to be a figurehead. You’ll spend half your time in big rooms talking to people with expectant smiles who’ll tell you to your face whatever you want to hear, and then gossip behind your back. You’ll be called one of Marge’s pets, one of her waifs.”

“Oh, really,” Kaye said.

“You’ll think you’re doing great work and then one day you’ll realize she’s had you doing what she wants, and nothing else, all along. She thinks this is her world, and it works by her rules. Then someone will have to come along and rescue you, Kaye Lang. I don’t know if it could ever be me. And I hope for your sake there will never be another Saul.”

“I appreciate your concern. Thank you,” Kaye said quietly, but with a touch of defiance. “I work by my instincts, too, Judith. And besides, I want to find out what Herod’s is all about. That won’t be cheap. I think she’s right about the CDC. And what if we can…finish our work with Eliava? For Saul. In his memory.”

Kushner’s intensity melted and she braced herself against the Wall, shaking her head. “All right.”

“You make Cross sound like the devil,” Kaye said.

Kushner laughed. “Not the devil. Not my cup of tea, either.”

The kitchen door swung open and Debra Kirn entered. She glanced between them nervously, then, pleading, said, “Kaye, it’s you she wants. Not me. If you don’t come on board, she’ll find some way to dump my work…”

“I’m doing it,” Kaye said, waving her hands. “But my God, I can’t leave right now. The house—”

“Marge will take care of that for you,” Kushner said, as if having to tutor a slow student on a subject she did not herself enjoy.

“She will,” Kirn affirmed quickly, her face lighting up. “She’s amazing.”

29

Taskforce Primate Lab, Baltimore

“Good morning, Christopher! How’s the continent?” Marian Freedman held open the back door at the top of the concrete steps. A very cold wind rushed down the alley. Dicken pulled up his knitted scarf and made a point of rubbing one bleary eye as he climbed the steps.

“I’m still on Geneva time. Ben Tice sends his regards.”

Freedman saluted briskly. “Europe on the case,” she called out dramatically. “How is Ben?”

“Dead tired. They did coat proteins last week. Tougher than they thought. SHEVA doesn’t crystallize.”

“He should have talked to me,” Marian said.

Dicken took off his scarf and coat. “Got some hot coffee?”

“In the lounge.” She guided him down a concrete corridor painted a bizarre orange and motioned him through a door on the left.

“How’s the building?”

“It sucks. Did you hear the inspectors found tritium in the plumbing? This was a medical waste processing facility last year, but somehow or other, they got tritium in their pipes. We didn’t have time to object and start looking again. What a market! So…It costs us ten grand to put in monitors and retrofit. Plus we have to guide a radiation inspector from the NRC through the building with his sniffer every other day.”

Dicken stood by a bulletin board in the lounge. The board was divided into two sections, one a large whiteboard, the smaller, on the left, a corkboard studded with notices. “Wanted to share: cheaper apartment!” “Can someone pick up my dogs in quarantine at Dulles next Wednesday? I’m on all day.” “Anyone know day care in Arlington?” “Need a ride to Bethesda Monday. Someone from metabolic or excretion preferred: we need to talk anyway.”

His eyes misted over. He was tired, but seeing the evidence of this thing coming alive, of people coming together, moving families and changing lives, traveling from around the world, deeply affected him.

Freedman handed him his coffee in a foam cup. “It’s fresh. We do good coffee.”

“Diuretic,” he said. “Should help you shed that tritium.”

Freedman made a face.

“Have you induced expression?” Dicken asked.

“No,” Freedman said. “But simian scattered ERV is so close to SHEVA in its genome that it’s scary. We’re just proving what we already assumed: this stuff is old. It entered the simian genome before we and the vervets parted ways.”

Dicken drank his coffee quickly and wiped his mouth. “Then it isn’t a disease,” he said.