The ring, p.20
The Ring, page 20
“Good evening,” she said, shuffling papers. “A little over three weeks ago, I, like many of you, witnessed the remarkable event that occurred over Stavanger and the subsequent facsimiles that would occur over Bolivia, Timor-Leste, Burkina Faso and Russia. It was two days after the Norway incident that my office received its first call in regard to the strange illness that had afflicted so many of the citizens there. We’ve learned a lot in these past three weeks, but before I delve into our findings I would like to make one thing unmistakably clear: there is no threat of contagion.”
A collective gasp of relief washed through the living room as hands left mouths and postures relaxed, if only slightly.
“Let me begin with what the initial reports concluded,” Dr. Ableman said. “Following the appearance of a halo, residents in the vicinity succumbed to a sudden illness that bore all the symptoms of a respiratory condition: fatigue, shortness of breath, reduced blood pressure. The same reports would be taken from those affected in Bolivia, Timor-Leste, et al. Working in close conjunction with the World Health Organization as well as state and local health officials of the afflicted regions, the CDC has acquired access to literally thousands of hospital case files including, sadly and in many cases, the subsequent autopsies that were performed on many of those unfortunate individuals.”
Dr. Ableman paused, her eyes darting over the journalists seated in front of her. “What we’ve discovered is nothing short of astonishing. The symptoms previously mentioned, when diagnosed separately, can be attributed to any number of respiratory or pulmonary illnesses. But when analyzed collectively they are quite specific to what is referred to in the medical field as acute respiratory distress syndrome, or ARDS.”
“ARDS?” Wes said with a grimace.
“I’ve never heard of it,” Jenny offered.
“I have,” Priti said, her eyes glued to the TV. “My grandfather died from it.”
All heads turned towards Priti then, one by one, found the television again.
“Typically, a case of ARDS is brought on by a severe condition such as pneumonia or sepsis,” Dr. Ableman continued, “even the inhalation of noxious fumes or chemicals. And in most instances, it is fatal if immediate medical attention is not given. But in nearly ninety-seven percent of the cases entrusted to the CDC for review, no such pre-existing maladies were recorded.”
Dr. Ableman turned to her left and pointed a remote at the monitor on stage, which now sparked to life. An illustration of what appeared to be an inverted stalk of pink cauliflower popped on the screen.
“What you’re looking at is an artist’s rendering of a cluster of alveoli and the bronchioles to which they are attached. These are located in our lungs. Every time we take a breath, air passes through the narrow tubes of the bronchioles and into these alveoli globules where the oxygen is then filtered into the bloodstream and transported throughout the body. What allows this to occur is due to the protection of the alveolar-capillary membrane which surrounds the alveoli and prevents fluid from entering the sacs.”
Dr. Ableman gestured toward the monitor, nudging the air in front of her remote hand. The image changed to a close-up of a single alveoli sac.
“When there is breakdown in the membrane, liquid will seep into these sacs, thus preventing the necessary oxygenation of blood. When the blood fails to become oxygenated, the body fails. Organs will systematically shut down as they become oxygen deprived until it reaches the point when the body can no longer sustain life.”
A hand rose from the audience followed immediately thereafter—and violating the pre-established protocol of the press conference—by a male voice that sounded as if it had gargled gravel prior to the briefing.
“Are you saying, ma’am, that those afflicted showed no symptoms of ARDS prior to the halo?”
The president stepped forward and leaned in front of Dr. Ableman.
“Again, I ask that we hold all questions until such time that you are called upon.” With a curt nod he relinquished the podium back to Dr. Ableman who wasted nary a second as she locked eyes with the man who had asked the question.
“What I’m saying,” she began, “is that by all accounts, ninety-seven percent of the people who died were in relative health up until the moment the halo appeared.”
More muttering erupted from the reporters in attendance.
Troy shook his head incredulously. “Holy shit.”
“This is bad,” Jenny said, her eyes welling. “Jesus, this is really bad.”
Dale patted the cushion beside him without making eye contact with his wife. Jenny skittered over to him and eased back into an outspread arm.
Dr. Ableman angled toward the monitor again. “In and of itself, this finding would be the subject of review for decades to come, but what we discovered next… well, and I mean this with no intended pun, it sort of took our breath away.”
A bird’s eye view of a suburban neighborhood filled the monitor, green and idyllic with ample space between properties.
“What you’re looking at is satellite imagery of the residential neighborhood of Hinna which is located due south of the city center of Stavanger and less than a mile north of Viking Stadion. It is, for all intents and purposes, ground zero of this study. In analyzing the case files, our research team discovered that many of the affected citizens claimed addresses in and around this neighborhood, which we then plotted.
Dr. Ableman turned back to the reporters, but for the first time peered over the tops of her glasses directly at the camera.
“I want to warn you that what I’m about to show you may be shocking.”
She clicked the remote. The image of the neighborhood remained. Now, however, superimposed over the top of it was a cluster of red dots.
“Each of the red dots you see here represents a person or household that visited a hospital or clinic within a day or two after the first halo sighting and reported having been affected by the aforementioned symptoms. They also represent the subsequent death of the individual. They do not, however, reflect those unable or unwilling to seek medical care. At first glance the dots appear to be a collection of just that—dots. But if we reduce the zoom by 2x…”
Dr. Ableman swallowed and with her click of the remote came a different image on the monitor. The same neighborhood was overlaid with the same red dots only from a higher altitude. Now, the close grouping of points adopted a shape, clearly contained within an imaginary boundary.
A circle.
Eva sat forward, her eyes seeing but not believing. Troy pulled his arm from hers, but only so he could place his hand over his mouth to stifle grunts of incredulity.
“Oh, my God,” Priti said.
“If it’s God,” Wes said, “I’d really like to know what he’s thinking.”
“Quiet everyone,” Dale said.
Eva stared, the world beyond the bezel of the TV lost to her. In those red dots Eva knew her perception of the universe had changed forever. Nothing would be viewed the same. It couldn’t be just a fluke, what she was seeing. There was reason behind it, order, a plan beyond her comprehension, but one she yearned to know the meaning of. She cocked her head and eyed the dots askew, as if seeing them from some quasi-parallax view would somehow enlighten her to their meaning. But no matter the angle they remained the same, formed in a very distinct round shape.
The reporters talked over one another as they barked questions. Dr. Ableman, apparently no stranger to press conferences and the ebb and flow of journalistic integrity, remained cool. She pointed her remote at the monitor again. The press quieted.
“Stavanger,” she said.
Click.
Another image replaced the previous one. A different city. More red dots. Another pseudo-circle of death.
“Trinidad.”
Click.
A cramped aerial of a neighborhood. The dense concentration of red dots numbering into the thousands.
“Bobo-Dioulasso.”
Click.
A fourth urban cityscape. Innumerable points of red. The clearest depiction of a circle yet.
“Irkutsk.”
Dr. Ableman turned back to the reporters who lobbed questions at her unabated. Ignoring them, she removed her glasses and slipped them into the breast pocket of her suit. She glowered at the press until they quieted.
“I’ve been studying medicine for forty-three years. I can safely say that not only is the sudden onset of these ARDS-like symptoms in so many people deeply troubling, but the reason for the affliction may well be outside the knowledge base of modern medicine.”
“Are you saying the CDC doesn’t know what’s causing the onset of the ARDS-like symptoms?” came a female voice tinged with the throaty rasp of a cigarette smoker.
The president began to move, but Dr. Ableman was already leaning into the microphone. Her head was cocked like an animal that had just heard a curious sound.
“We know exactly what is causing the onset of ARDS, ma’am. What we don’t know is how it’s doing it.”
Her body tensed against follow up questions, Dr. Ableman became a statue. Her eyes darted briefly over the reporters before she resumed.
“Now, the reason we’ve chosen to share this information is not to alarm, but to reassure. As I stated at the beginning of my presentation and what I’d like to reiterate now is that there is no contagion. Whatever happens inside the affected zones stays inside the affected zones.” Dr. Ableman exhaled, allowing her shoulders to rise to her ears before letting them fall. “We don’t know what’s causing this. But we have the best and smartest people in the world working on it. We will find an answer.”
Dr. Ableman nodded then backed away as the president returned to the podium.
“So, basically,” Wes began, turning to the room, “if you get caught inside one of these halos when it happens, you’re dead. Is that what I’m getting?”
“Sounded like it to me,” Eva said.
“That’s about right,” Dale seconded.
Troy nodded, as did Priti, their eyes locked on the television, enraptured.
“… Director of Homeland Security, Stewart Coffer,” the president finished saying as a gray-haired man wearing a navy blue suit and a tasteful, red split-stripe tie stepped to the podium.
His over-coiffed hair was freshly shorn and saturated with so much product it resembled a borrowed toupee. His skin was unnaturally wrinkle-free given his age and his eyebrows varied suspiciously in color from that of his hair.
“Good evening,” he said uneasily. “Much like my colleague, Dr. Ableman, and her work over at the CDC, the various agencies under the Homeland Security banner have also been hard at work compiling data in regard to these halo occurrences. I’ll try to be brief,” he said, “so that we may hear from the other agencies working diligently on this problem.”
Secretary Coffer arranged papers on the podium then looked out into the room, his eyes passing uneasily over the journalists as if this were his first foray into public speaking.
“The conclusion drawn by Dr. Ableman is an important one to restate. Nowhere, not in the CDC’s data nor in any gathering of intel from my office, has there been established the first shred of evidence to suggest that what is occurring as a result of these events—the halos—lead to any sort of pathogen, airborne or otherwise. It simply is not contagious.”
The director slid a sheet of paper to one side.
“While the number of reports available to us regarding the physical experience on the ground are scarce they are sufficient enough to provide us with a fairly clear snapshot of what one might experience if they find themselves affected by a halo should one occur. Along with the symptoms described by Dr. Ableman, which by all accounts seem to initiate gradually following the appearance of a halo, our agency has learned of other, more immediate effects that take place and should be used as a guide to help determine whether or not you think you’ve been caught inside a halo zone.”
Dale rubbed his face, perplexed. “A halo zone,” he said flatly.
Jenny slid forward beside her husband and placed an arm around his shoulders.
“Please keep in mind that these are in no way conclusive,” the director said, “and should be viewed merely as indicators for evaluation.” Secretary Coffer inhaled, as if he couldn’t fathom the words he was about to utter. He snatched up the remote Dr. Ableman had used and faced the monitor, turning a near ninety degrees away from the podium.
A heading appeared onscreen, black letters against a blue background:
“What is this, Armageddon by Powerpoint?” Wes scoffed.
“Shut up,” Troy spat.
“You shut up,” Wes said with a scowl.
“Points of recognition?” Eva said, turning to look at Priti who exchanged a concerned glance with her friend. As Eva faced the TV again, she felt the brief passing of eyes over her body. She glanced in Dale’s direction just as his head snapped away from her and toward the TV. Eva swallowed uneasily then returned to the conference.
Secretary Coffer cleared his throat. “One of the most frequently mentioned characteristics related to the quality of the air.”
The title onscreen changed, initiating a bullet point list.
“Most reported a dull, lifeless quality,” Secretary Coffer said, reading verbatim. “As if the air became too still and sound had been—in the words of several of those interviewed—‘sucked’ away. Other words used to describe this sensation were ‘uneasy stillness’, ‘stagnant’ and ‘eerie’.” Stewart jabbed at the monitor with the remote. Another bullet point appeared below the first.
“Another common account pertained to the state of the environment directly surrounding each of the victims. Descriptions included terms such as ‘muted’ and ‘washed out’. One of the more detailed descriptions recorded the experience as if ‘color had been leeched from everything leaving only the faintest recognition of its former self’. Other terms: ‘faded’, ‘bland’ and ‘bleached’.”
Secretary Coffer pointed his hand at the monitor for the third time. With each new addition to the Checklist of Death, Eva felt her chest tighten. She wondered how the conference was being received in households across the various regions of the United States. Was there panic? Mayhem? Were people taking to the streets in crazed lunacy, the conference a blatant admittance that the sky was, indeed, falling?
And had the conference been picked up internationally?
The world was already jittery. Would the brazen decision by the White House to acknowledge what everyone already feared be just the thing to induce panic? Or would it be perceived as a shepherd’s crook, there to coax them back from the brink with valuable and perhaps lifesaving information?
Eva abandoned her assessment for the time being as the bullet list continued.
Secretary Coffer cleared his throat with a phlegmy rattle. “As has just been covered by Dr. Ableman, probably the most well-known and life-threatening aftereffect of a halo event is the respiratory toll it takes on the lungs. If you, even for a moment, suspect that you have been caught inside a halo zone, do not hesitate, do not question. Get yourself to a medical facility immediately. Let the doctors do their jobs. While there have been many fatalities in the past three weeks, it should be noted that many of the victims were either so blindsided with this unprecedented event that they weren’t aware they should act or they were living in locations where medical care was not readily available to them. The symptoms described by Dr. Ableman, while oftentimes resulting in death, are not indicative of a one hundred percent mortality rate, i.e., there is a chance for survival. We have more information than we did three weeks ago and the overwhelming consensus from the medical field, including the Surgeon General, is to begin treatment as rapidly as possible. In other words, time is of the essence.”
Secretary Coffer blinked, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for acknowledgment of the severity of his warning. Deeming the quiet response from the press corps satisfactory, he clicked one last time.
“The final point is in regard to a power surge that occurs concurrently with the arrival of a halo. Anything that is powered by electricity, whether that power is obtained via a battery or from a plug in the wall, ceases to function. It should be noted, however, that transformers or other power supply switchgear contained inside a halo zone would cease to disperse energy to areas outside the halo zone that would otherwise normally receive it. Please note, power loss in one’s home, business or neighborhood is not necessarily an indicator of a halo event. I strongly urge you to use prudence when evaluating your situation. Look for these points of recognition. If you suspect at least two of the four have occurred, get to a hospital immediately.”
“Weird,” Wes said. “If you take the first letter of each of the points, A, E, R and P and rearrange them, you get the word ‘PEAR’. The military loves acronyms. I wonder why they didn’t present some catchy word to help everyone remember the points.”
“Probably because the letters can also be arranged to spell ‘REAP’,” Priti chimed.
“And ‘RAPE’,” Dale said, earning a swat on the arm from Jenny.
Secretary Coffer faced forward again, setting the remote in the far corner of the podium. He clasped his hands together and looked out over the reporters.
“I would like to reassure the American people that my agency, in conjunction with intelligence and science agencies worldwide, are working around the clock to understand these halos and how we should defend against them.”
“Defend?” Troy said.
“I have every confidence,” Secretary Coffer continued, “that the purpose of these halos will be revealed. Rest assured that a solution is close at hand. Have heart and maintain courage. Thank you.”
