'Authorization for what?' It was Miles who asked.

'To use deadly force, if all else fails,' Martinez said to all of us.

'Christ,' Wesley muttered.

I listened in disbelief, staring up at doomsday gods.

'We have no choice,' Fujitsubo spoke calmly. 'If people panic and start fleeing the island and do not heed Coast Guard warnings, they will - not if - but will bring smallpox onto the mainland. And we're talking about a population which either has not been vaccinated in thirty years. Or an immunization done so long ago it's no

longer effective. Or a disease that has mutated to the extent that our present vaccine is not protective. There isn't a good scenario, in other words.'

I didn't know if I felt sick to my stomach because I wasn't well or because of what I'd just heard. I thought of that weather-beaten fishing village with its leaning headstones and wild, quiet people who just wanted to be left alone. They weren't the sort to obey anyone, for they answered to a higher power of God and storms.

'There must be another way,' I said. But there wasn't.

'By reputation, smallpox is a highly contagious infectious disease. This outbreak must be contained,' Fujitsubo exclaimed the obvious. 'We've got to worry about houseflies hovering around patients, and crabs headed for the mainland. How do we know we don't have to worry about the possibility of mosquito transmission, as in Tanapox, for God's sake? We don't even know what all we've got to worry about since we can't fully identify the disease yet.'

Martin looked at me. 'We've already got teams out there, nurses, doctors, bed isolators so we can keep these people out of hospitals and leave them in their homes.'

'What about dead bodies, contamination?' I asked him.

'In terms of United States law, this constitutes a Class One public health emergency.'

'I realize that,' I said, impatiently, for he was getting bureaucratic on me. 'Cut to the chase.'

'Burn all but the patient. Bodies will be cremated. The Pruitt house will be torched.' Fujitsubo tried to reassure us. 'USAMRIID's got a team heading out. We'll be talking to citizens, trying to make them understand.'

I thought of Davy Crockett and his son, of people and their panic when space-suited scientists took over their island and started burning their homes.

'And we know for a fact that the smallpox vaccine isn't going to work?' Wesley said.

'We don't know that for a fact yet.' Martin answered. 'Tests on laboratory animals will take days to weeks. And even if vaccination is protective in an animal model, this may not translate into protection for humans.'

'Since the DNA of the virus has been altered,' Fujitsubo warned, 'I am not hopeful that vaccinia virus will be effective.'

'I'm not a doctor or anything,' Martinez said, 'but I'm just wondering if you could vaccinate everyone anyway, just in case it might work.'

'Too risky,' Martin said. 'If it's not smallpox, why deliberately expose people to smallpox, thereby possibly causing some people to get the disease? And when we develop the new vaccine, we're not going to want to come back several weeks later and vaccinate people again, this time with a different pox.'

'In other words,' Fujitsubo said, 'we can't use the people of Tangier like laboratory animals. If we keep them on that island and then get a vaccine out to them as soon as possible, we should be able to contain this thing. The good news about smallpox is it's a stupid virus, kills its hosts so fast it will burn itself out if you can keep it restricted to one area.'

'Right. So an entire island gets destroyed while we sit back and watch it burn,' Miles angrily said to me. 'I can't believe this. Goddamn it.' He pounded his fist on the table.

'This can't be happening in Virginia!'

He got out of his chair. 'Gentlemen. I would like to know what we should do if we start getting patients in other parts of this state. The health of Virginia, after all, is what the governor appointed me to take care of.' His face was dark red and he was sweating. 'Are we supposed to just do like the Yankees and start burning down our cities and towns?'

'Should this spread,' Fujitsubo said, 'clearly we'll have to utilize our hospitals, have wards, just as we did during earlier times. CDC and my people are already alerting local medical personnel, and will work with them closely.'

'We realize that hospital personnel are at the greatest risk,' Martin added. 'Sure would be nice if Congress would end this goddamn furlough so I don't have one hand and both legs tied behind my back.'

'Believe me, the president, Congress, knows.'

'Senator Nagle assures me it will end by tomorrow morning.'

'They're always certain, say the same thing every time.'

The swelling and itching of the revaccination site on my arm was a constant reminder that I had been inoculated with a virus probably for nothing. I complained to Wesley all the way out to the parking lot.

'I've been reexposed, and I'm sick with something, meaning I'm probably immunosuppressed, on top of it all.'

'How do you know you don't have it?' he carefully asked.

'I don't know.'

'Then you could be infectious.'

'No, I couldn't be. A rash is the first sign of that, and I check myself daily. At the slightest hint of such a thing, I would go back into isolation. I would not come within one hundred feet of you or anybody else, Benton,' I said, my anger unreasonably spiking at his suggestion that I might risk infecting anyone with even a mundane cold. He glanced over at me as he unlocked doors, and I knew that he was far more upset than he would let on. 'What do you want me to do, Kay?'

'Take me home so I can get my car,' I said.

Daylight was fading fast as I followed miles of woods thick with pines. Fields were fallow with tufts of cotton still clinging to dead stalks, and the sky was moist and cold like thawing cake. When I had gotten home from the meeting, there had been a message from Rose. At two P.M., Keith Pleasants had called from jail, desperately requesting that I come see him, and Wingo had gone home with the flu.

I had been inside the old Sussex County Courthouse many times over the years, and had grown fond of its antebellum quaintness and inconveniences. Built in 1825 by Thomas Jefferson's master brick mason, it was red with white trim and columns, and had survived the Civil War, although the Yankees had managed to destroy all its records first. I thought of cold winter days spent out on the lawn with detectives as I waited to be called to the witness stand. I remembered the cases by name that I had brought before this court.

Now such proceedings took place in the spacious new building next door, and as I drove past, heading to the back, I felt sad. Such constructions were a monument to rising crime, and I missed simpler times when I had first moved to Virginia and was awed by its old brick and its old war that would not end. I had smoked back then. I supposed I romanticized the past like most people tended to do. But I missed smoking and waiting around in miserable weather outside a courthouse that barely had heat. Change made me feel old.

The sheriff's department was the same red brick and white trim, its parking lot and jail surrounded by a fence topped with razor wire. Imprisoned within, two inmates in orange jumpsuits were wiping down an unmarked car they had just washed and waxed. They eyed me slyly as I parked in front, one of them popping the other with a shammy cloth.

'Yo. What's going,' one of them muttered to me as I walked past.

'Good afternoon.' I looked at both of them.

They turned away, not interested in someone they could not intimidate, and I pulled open the front door. Inside, the department was modest on the verge of depressing, and like virtually all other public facilities in the world, had profoundly outgrown its environment. Inside were Coke and snack machines, walls plastered with wanted posters and a portrait of an officer slain while responding to a call. I stopped at the duty post, where a young woman was shuffling through paperwork and chewing on her pen.