Immunity Index by Sue Burke (best fiction books of all time txt) 📗

big one is quantity. We have barely enough antibiotics for normal times. We couldn’t even double the amount in a month, and we’d need a whole lot more a whole lot sooner than that.”

“And they would only work for bacterial infections,” Node 5 said.

“Is there a way we could make the virus cause less lung damage?” Grrl asked.

After some discussion, we thought we could, but I saw problems with the new approach. If the virus had less ability to misappropriate the infected human’s RNA in the process of replicating itself, that might result in more antigenic shift: the virus would reproduce inaccurately and might create a variant with undesirable traits. Besides, if it couldn’t hijack the host’s RNA to reproduce rapidly, it wouldn’t be as contagious.

After more discussion, we felt fairly certain we could change the site of the infection to the upper respiratory tract and cause what would resemble a mere head cold, which by its nature killed far fewer people: it just made them miserable. In addition, they’d sniffle and sneeze more, which would spread the virus even faster.

“I predict a chicken soup shortage,” Grrl said.

We began creating new schemata for such a virus and testing them on models, although that took time, especially when using whole-organism models rather than single cells.

“I prefer working with full human models,” I said in response to complaints, “even though they have far too many moving parts. We should run a lot more models. Every model fails in one way or another to imitate reality, and we also need to compare a variety of genotypes.”

“Humans don’t show as much variety compared with other species,” Node 5 said. “Think about chickens, how extreme some of them are.”

I thought about bloody, dead chickens. “They’re engineered for profit, not survival. I’d like to think we’re working for survival, even if we’re swimming against the current. Profit might matter more than people in some boardrooms, but it never should to us.”

“Those American flags will hold off the virus for only so long,” Grrl said. “The cells that really matter are brain cells, and White House policy is running short of them.”

“Flags?” I said.

“Yeah,” she said. “The Prez said to fly them to show unity against China and its illnesses.”

The foreshock I’d sensed may have been that: an appeal to patriotism as a way to combat the politically named Sino cold. The foolishness exceeded my dismal expectations. “Flags,” I said. “Anything else?”

“Remember,” Node 5 interrupted, “our communications are monitored.”

And so Grrl was chastened. (Or maybe I was. Hard to know.) But I felt for a moment that I’d found a true kindred spirit, and I wished I could meet her in real life—if we both lived that long.

We split up some tasks, and I continued modeling viruses as they were envisioned. Nothing satisfied me. In some models, the virus seemed to trigger meningitis, which I saw as a proxy for a bigger problem.

“It might cause more damage to nasal mucous membranes than we thought,” I said.

“That’s not so bad, meningitis,” said Node 6, who minimized everything. “A known problem. Easy to treat.”

“Meningitis, maybe,” I said, although it was not at all easy. “I have other worries. There’s a lot more out there waiting to cause a secondary infection if the host is compromised. In my day job, I’ve seen some avian coronavirus mutations that could jump to humans. We could trigger an epidemic.”

“They’re always there, avian viruses,” Node 6 said. “Would they be as bad as Sino?” They never called it by its more technical name, which was telling.

That gave me pause. “I honestly don’t know. I wouldn’t feel comfortable making a prediction.”

“We know some things for sure about Sino.”

“Let’s stay focused,” Node 5 said. “We’re on a deadline.”

Grrl had an idea. “I think we could limit the damage. Some strains cause very mild symptoms, and we could try incorporating that.”

“But,” Node 6 said, “it has to be symptomatic to be as contagious as we need.”

I supported Grrl’s idea. “We can balance the needs, and I think we have to. Meningitis can strike quickly. A virus that incapacitates its hosts within hours won’t be as contagious as we want.”

“Let’s get to work,” Grrl said, and the us in let’s meant her and me. So we worked. She knew much more about certain cellular processes than I did, and we were a good team. Buoyed by the top-quality coffee that the military supplied in endless quantities, by about three in the morning we had an effective compromise between damage and symptoms. We reported that with pride and relief, and then, to calm our jangled nerves and maintain what had become a delightful relationship, we chatted—about general science, nothing too personal, since Node 1 was always listening.

I began to drowse and was about to say good night. Our screens beeped with an official notice. The attenuated virus had been released. With a few adaptations, mechanical cleaning machines with their little onboard fans could distribute virus-laden aerosols as effectively as the human nose.

“Which one?” Grrl and I asked in unison. No matter which, it was far too early in the process of testing. We needed not just theoretical models but real (and courageous) human subjects. Much more important, the virus that had been released couldn’t have been our compromise. It couldn’t have been manufactured that quickly. So it was an earlier version, perhaps much earlier, and any of those viruses would result in massive, needless death.

I wrapped my face in my hands and wept. She was shouting at people around her. I could make out some of the words in her rising panic.

“Everywhere?” her distorted voice roared.

CHAPTER4

Irene carried a coil of barbed wire to the pen for repairs. Nimkii had to know he could get out of the pen any time he wanted, but he hadn’t tried for the rest of the day yesterday or so far today. Perhaps he was too frightened of the wider world. She’d slept outside that night to guard him. He seemed to want