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

it had confirmed that there was an emergency for people with respiratory illness. That had to be Sino.

Deedee noticed her anger. “What?”

“Ambulances are busy, but if she can get there, it’ll be free.”

“Today’s the day, right! Is it the Sino cold? The flags wouldn’t hold it off forever.” Deedee frowned. “I meant that as a joke. I know they were stupid.”

“Yeah, I know.” Then why all the lies? Something wasn’t making sense. “I’ll call a car to take her to the hospital.”

“No.” Karen’s voice rasped worse. “Just let me stay home.” She lay back down, wincing.

“Karen, the emergency room is free today,” Berenike repeated. “There’s a mutiny under way. Phone, AutoKar, place order … Okay, a car is coming. In a half hour.” Actually, a little more. That was a very long time for four in the morning. Something was really, really wrong.

“Huh? Today?” Karen said. “Oh, today. Yeah. I’m really sick.”

Deedee climbed out of bed. “Everybody, be sure to wear purple today. I’ll help get Karen to the hospital.”

Berenike nodded to her as thanks. “The car’s delayed. I’ll transfer it to you for the notice when it gets here. I made it urgent.” Urgency from an assistant manager didn’t seem to do much: only five minutes less. She rummaged in a dresser drawer and pulled out a wide purple belt. “This should go great with a teal uniform.”

“I can give you some purple hair clips,” Deedee said. “Nina, want some, too?”

Nina was looking at their phone. “I’d love to wear a couple. The cold’s not on the official news, for what that’s worth. Not colds, not flu. But they’re liars. Hey, there’s suddenly more channels now. Maybe I can find more out. No stay-at-home orders, though. So maybe it’s not Sino.”

They stood up, looking at their phone as Nina talked. “Here’s my plan: At work, I’m not going to obey the stupid laws, you know, like who can eat at restaurants. I’m going to serve everyone who walks in. I might even make the food free if their payment is refused. I’m so tired of this bullshit.”

Berenike washed up, put on her uniform and the wide nonregulation purple belt, and slipped the clips in her hair. She wished they were bigger, but at least they were bright. As she left, she glanced back. Karen was sitting up, but she looked bad. I’m so tired of this bullshit. That thought gave her energy.

In the cool, dark streets, she searched for a bike and found one a block away. As she rode toward downtown, she met with little traffic, even for four thirty in the morning, and yet autocars were delayed. Something weird was definitely up.

She neared a street where she’d once walked with Papa. He, more than anyone else, had helped her start to think politically. He was gone now, just when he was finally having some success. She blinked away tears to try to see clearly. A mistake could get her killed, since plenty of people still drove their own car. They always thought they were good drivers, and they never were.

She arrived at work forty-five minutes ahead of her usual shift. Two coworkers were arguing in the second-floor work bay loud enough for their voices to echo down to the customer service desk.

“We should both get out of here!” It was Jalil.

“Not me. Too many bucks. You can go. I won’t blame you.” That was the guy they called Old Man Tito.

“I mean,” Jalil said, “look at that car!”

“Yeah. We’ve got equipment to clean that up.”

She clocked in. New orders came up on the screen. All cars had to be cleaned and disinfected as they came in, not just the usual, taking out or vacuuming up whatever crap customers left, and customers could be pigs. Every single car had to be cleaned. For biohazards. Fuck. Sino for sure. And besides, that would mean delays as long as hours. What did AutoKar know about this cold? Why no quarantine?

Jalil came down the ramp wearing a stiff plastic visor over a paper surgical mask, gloves, and stained white paper coveralls. He reeked of pine-scented cleaning fluid.

“Berenike. Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah. Well, I … Family stuff. I lost my papa.”

“To that cold?”

“Cold? They said food poisoning.”

“Cold, poison, plague. I don’t care.” He pointed at the display. “You see the orders. They know something’s up. My friends, and their friends, they’re saying people are dropping dead all over. I’m young. I got family. Old Man Tito up there, he’s staying. He’s got no one and nothing, but I do.”

“But today’s the day.” She pointed to her hair clips.

“I don’t care. I don’t want to die for it.”

“People need cars to get to the hospital.”

He was about to say something, thought again, and said, “Yeah. But I got family.”

She nodded. There was no point in arguing. “Come back any time. We’re going to need you.”

“Thanks.” He was about to offer his hand, then looked down at his glove and stopped. He stripped off his biohazard gear, shoved it into a trash can, and clocked out. “Hey, take lots of vitamin C. My sister’s friend’s a nurse, and she says a megadose will really work.”

“Thanks.” Not very likely. Whatever the disease was, though, she’d been exposed. Her future had already been decided. The thought made her feel dizzy for a moment. She took a deep breath. Nothing she could do would change that now.

She was checking statistics before he was out the door. Usage was down 12 percent for 5:00 A.M. on a Monday, but that wouldn’t be enough to keep cars moving with the new requirements. It took a half hour to clean each car and let the cleaning fluid dry.

People are dropping dead. She still felt fine, energized by the bike ride. How fast did this plague hit?

Meanwhile, she had to disobey, to mutiny, and an epidemic might make her tiny piece of the puzzle more important. Infrastructure keeps people alive: that was what they always said at management training, although they paid her more