The Disease

THIS STORY IS NOT SUITABLE FOR READERS UNDER 12

For the story so far, click here

The problem now would be the security guards on the seventh floor. She’d need to distract them away from the Presidential Suite, but there were two of them, so even if she became the wolf and got one of them to chase her, the other one would likely remain at his post. And he’d probably call for back up.

No, she’d just have to put the guards into a trance. That’s better than causing a big ruckus. Her other concern was the CCTV cameras. That’s why she’d wanted to mist her way in. She hesitated before stepping onto the seventh floor. What was the best approach? If she hynotised the guards she could get into Viyal’s room, but she’d be caught on camera. If she became the mist she could get under his door without being stopped, and wouldn’t be caught on camera, but she wouldn’t be able to hypnotise the guards into not hitting the fire alarm.

Finally she decided to go in as Brenda and hope for the best. She’d already been caught on camera on the stairs anyway. I must look pretty suspicious right now, she told herself, waiting behind this door for so long. So she pushed it open and stepped onto the exclusive seventh floor. In long, confident strides she approached the Presidential Suite but she could only see one guard. And he was facing away from her. Before she got too close he sneezed loudly, three times in quick succession.

“Blast!” He frowned at his snotty hand, apparently he didn’t have a tissue on him. He’d have to get some from the toilets or a cleaning cupboard, but there were none of those on the executive floor. “I need to be relieved!” he quietly informed his walkie talkie, “Taking my break now,” he added as he stepped onto the elevator.

Velma smiled. That was lucky. Now all she needed to do was look normal for the camera. Resisting the temptation to hurry, she walked towards Viyal’s room and knocked.

“Room service!” she called and then, making it look easy, forced the door open and stepped insided.

Her entry provoked no response because there was no sign of anyone in the lounge. She opened the door of the first bedroom which was also empty. So she tried the second one and no-one was in there either. She was about to close the door when she heard a voice coming from the en-suite. He was on the phone. He was clearly trying to keep his voice down but she had bat hearing.

“We want it,” she heard him say, “we can handle it.”

She was even able to hear the voice on the other end of his phone, though not quite so well. It was a female voice. “It’s not even definite yet,” it said, “but we have put some feelers out and two other parties have expressed an interest. How do you know about it?”

“I know people,” Viyal told her smugly. “We’re better than anyone else for this. They wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Why d’you say that? It would be like any other medical research and they both have plenty of experience with that. My understanding is that your niche is mostly chemical.”

“We’re experts in all areas. I got my CBE for my contribution to medical research!”

There was a pause before the female voice conceded the point. “Alright,” she said, “we will consider working with Invigo if you can send me a strategy for isolating the new pathogen, discovering how it is transmitted and whether it can be stopped once contracted.”

“Done!” said Viyal with satisfaction.

“I want your strategy by the end of next week before we can confirm your involvement.”

“Will do. No problem.”

“And Bernard,” the female voice added, “this better not get out. If it does, I’ll know it was you. This disease has been around for a lot longer than people realise. We’ve been seeing deaths like this for over thirty years. But never before did we have so much to go on. With four bodies at once we’ve got access to much more material for analysis, and if this disease can be reproduced in animal models, the sky’s the limit in terms of profit. Demand for drugs and vaccines for this disease will be -“

“Unprecedented.”

Velma was horrified. This was her fault. Any true scientist would be able to see that there was no contagion. But these weren’t true scientists. They were capitalists first and foremost, and they were going to exploit this situation any way they could, for as long as they could.

Better that people fear a vampire than an infectious disease, she reasoned.

The toilet flushed and a moment later (he had obviously not washed his hands) Bernard emerged from the bathroom. Velma was sitting on the bed with her arms folded. His self-satisfied smile vanished in an instant.

“What are you doing in here?! I didn’t request a turndown.”

“Nice to meet you Bernie, I’m your disease,” she told him with a toothy grin, “now wash your hands.”

***

Come back Monday when chapter 5 begins. Unless you want to read it now 😉

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