Page 4
3 months later
“A news conference?” I unload my samples from the hospital as Gene hobbles around on his cane.
“That’s what Fatima said.” He sits down heavily behind the electron microscope we’d managed to wheel from the university to the basement of the Governor’s Mansion with a little help from the National Guard. No one even batted an eye at us though we were taking hundreds of thousands of dollars of equipment. I suppose being the governor’s sister has a few perks.
The lab isn’t fully workable. There isn’t enough space, and I still need quite a few smaller items from the university labs. The microscope needs weeks if not months of work. But for now, it’s enough that I can separate the virus from my blood samples and use fluorescence imaging until we get the big guy up and running.
Leaning over my journal, I scribble a few notes about the ongoing setup of my makeshift lab. My notes are all I have at the moment; the rest of the place is in shambles.
I arch a brow at the wires dangling from the ceiling over the refrigeration setup. “Are you sure I have to attend this out-of-nowhere press conference? I’ve got plenty to do here, starting with figuring out if that mess—” I point at the wires, “—is going to electrocute us.”
“That’s what she said.” He grunts as he tinkers with the wall outlet. “Speaking of electric, you sure a regular ol’ separate breaker is going to be enough for this thing?”
“Nope.” I lean against my desk. “But it’s the best we’ll be able to get. Vince is already being pissy about me using too many resources as it is.” Vince is the reason we’re down here in the first place. When I showed up to the capitol with a black eye, he and Juno lost their minds and tried to forbid me from leaving the Governor’s Mansion altogether. I let them know that not only did I intend to leave again, I had to go check on Gene first thing the next morning. That led to another meltdown by the two of them, which then led to me getting an armed escort to Maple Avenue where I found Gene lying at the bottom of his stairs with a shiner like mine and a broken leg. “Hooligans”—as he calls them—broke in and robbed him, not that he had much in the way of valuables except his poor chicken Lula. If we hadn’t found him, there’s no telling if he would’ve gotten out of his house alive.
My shifts at the hospital triage are non-negotiable, but for everyone’s peace of mind, I’ve agreed to stay within the capitol instead of returning to campus. Gene gets a new place to live, a job that pays almost steadily—though Candice has taken to calling it all ‘Monopoly money’—and food on his plate, so he’s plenty happy about the arrangement.
“I guess I’ll have to go see what it’s about.” I head for the door. “I’ll probably be back later, but if not, I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Sure thing, Doc.” Gene waves a screwdriver at me.
I loop my mask around my ears and tromp up the stairs to the main floor. The sun is already low on the horizon, painting the foyer in shades of gold.
“Hey, professor.” Candice calls to me from an armchair just inside the sitting room.
“Hey, what’s all this?” A hum of voices tells me the press is here.
“Big announcement, apparently. Your sister’s been playing this one close to the vest. Even I don’t know what it’s about.” Her disapproval is writ large across her face. “You better get a move on. I can hear her pacing up there.” She glances at the plaster ceiling overhead. “Talk her off the ledge.”
“Great.” I don’t roll my eyes, but I certainly would like to.
I hurry past the reception room, only a few of the reporters turning to glance at me as I almost sprint to the stairs leading up to the private residence. There’s zero chance I’ll speak with the press, though they’ve tried plenty of times in the past to get information from me. Little do they know, I’m awkward as all hell even when there isn’t a microphone shoved in my face.
Vince is at the top of the stairs, back straight, eyes narrowed, his stern gaze taking in everything below. “Juno’s in her room.” He hitches a thumb over his shoulder.
“Okay.” I pause. “So what’s the news conference for?”
He grimaces. “Nothing good.”
“Vague yet scary. Perfect. Totally par for the course.” I do roll my eyes this time and continue to Juno’s door where I enter without knocking.
She stops mid-pace and turns to me, her charcoal-gray skirt suit tailored perfectly to her tall frame.
“Wow. Did you hire hair and makeup?” I stare at her smooth brown skin and the perfect contouring that’s taken ten years off her age.
“Yes.” She points to the bench at the foot of her bed. “Sit. We need to talk.”
“You realize what’s left of the state press is currently crammed downstairs, right?” I grin. “Maybe they’ll turn on each other and start a brawl.”
“It’s not just state press this time. They can wait.” She resumes pacing, her impeccable heels clicking as she walks. I glance down at my jeans and somewhat worn button-up shirt, then remind myself that I’m not the one on camera. Even so, I run a hand over my light brown hair and try to smooth down the errant waves. I have these irritating little tufts of hair at my ears that never lay flat no matter what I do to them.
“Spill, sis.” I give up and force my hands to stay still in my lap. “I’m assuming this has to do with the election.”
“One month left.” She nods and stops pacing again. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but President Gray has left me no choice.” She walks to me and sits down carefully, no sense wrinkling her suit, I suppose. “He’s not leaving office.”
I meet her eyes. “You think he’ll win? I thought?—”
“No, he’s not going to win, Georgia, but even so, he doesn’t intend to leave.” She takes my hand in hers. Her fingers are cold, almost clammy, which is when I realize just how nervous she is. “He’s already spoken with his Joint Chiefs about overturning any election results and staying in the White House under a declaration of martial law.”
“That can’t be legal.”
“The person who determines what’s ‘legal’ is the one who commands the Army and the Navy. Right now, that’s Gray. He doesn’t want me anywhere near the White House.”
“So, what does that mean?” My mouth goes dry. “Do you think he’ll try to do something to you? Like, I don’t know, the way they used to do in Russia to their rivals? Or what happened to MLK.”
She cocks her head to the side. “Wait, you think MLK was?—”
“—taken out by the government.” I nod. “Definitely.”
She seems to consider it.
“Forget that part.” I shake my head. “My question is: are you in danger?”
“Nothing like that, no.” She sucks a tooth. “Actually, I wouldn’t put it past President Gray. He’s shown himself to be a lot more devious than I’d imagined.”
“Shit.” I swallow hard. “Do we need to do something? To leave? You should go into hiding.”
“No.” She sits up a little straighter. “I don’t run. Never have.”
“It’s not ‘running’ if it’s actually just ‘surviving’.” I squeeze her hand.
“I have a plan.” She almost smiles. “One that’s going to shock the world. You included. I’m going to win in a landslide.”
“That confident?” I peer into her eyes and try to figure out where this is going. As usual, she gives nothing away. She’s bulletproof, made to lead. Her only tell right now is the swampy state of her hands. “Can you pre-shock me with your big plan now? I don’t want to be the last to know.”
“I know you’re fed up with the secrecy.” She sighs. “I don’t blame you one bit. I’ve been meaning to tell you more. Everything’s just been so crazy, and I honestly didn’t know how you’d take it. It’s … it’s a little hard to believe. I didn’t believe it at first.”
“That bad, huh?” I don’t like the sound of this.
She shakes her head the slightest bit. “Remember when I told you I needed a platform to win this thing?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “You’ve been saying more rations, more meds, more help for people suffering with terminal cases of the plague.”
One of her eyebrows ticks up a bit. “You’ve been paying attention.”
I shrug. “I hear things when slinking along the hallways and stealing scientific gear.”
“Yes, those things are definitely needed. That’s a strong platform, but not a ‘landslide’ platform.”
“Okay, so hit me with the big idea. Is it free everything? That would be great. I mean, I don’t know how that would work, but if everyone could just survive together instead of the government trying to make things the way they used to be and pretending people care about interest rates and car emissions or …”
Her withering look stops me cold.
“Just an idea.” I shrug. “Sheesh.”
She clears her throat, more unexpected nerves. “If I’m elected president, I can guarantee my administration will find a cure for the plague.”
My mouth drops open at the sheer magnitude of the lie. “You can’t promise something like that.”
“I can.”
My hands go cold, my throat tight. “No, you can’t. There’s no cure, Juno. None. You know this. The best you can do is create a vaccine to prevent it or find a way to treat the symptoms. But Sierravirus survives as a parasite on host cells— good cells that are invaded. The only way to kill the virus is to kill the human cells it’s inhabiting and preventing replication. Which, in turn, kills the human you’re trying to treat.” I’ve explained it to her—hell, the CDC has explained it to all of us before the news stations went dark. They still have repeating radio broadcasts, and even went so far as to air drop pamphlets on all the major cities detailing the best ways to stop the plague’s advance while also describing its methods of attack.
“Now it’s time for you to realize I’ve been paying attention to you, too.” She gives me a tight-lipped smile. “You’ve told me all this before—the virus invading the healthy cell and sucking it dry. I get it. But what I’m proposing isn’t the science we’ve known in the past.”
“Then what?” Baffled is too mild a word for what I’m feeling right now.
“Do you remember the man you met in my office months ago, the one?—”
“The one you’ve been super secretive about? That one?” I snipe. The one I think about every day. The one who I’ve asked around about, though no one seems to know a damn thing about him.
“Yes.” She ignores my tone. “Valen Dragonis and his people have a cure.”
I scoff and stand, my heart thumping perilously against my ribs. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.” She rises, too. “He showed me what he can do. He showed Vince, too, if you don’t believe me. They can stop this thing in its tracks. Or, at least they can if they have the right scientists to work on the cure with them.” She stares pointedly at me.
“Me? You’ve dragged me into this conman’s game? Just because he said he could cure the plague? Have you lost your mind?” I gawk at her. “What the hell, Juno? You can’t promise people a cure based on bullshit. False hope is worse than no hope!”
“Keep your voice down,” she scolds.
“Cancel the press conference.” I hurry to her door and turn toward her. “You can’t go down there and tell the world you have a cure when you don’t .”
“That’s not what this is.”
“That’s exactly what this is!” I grab the handle. “I won’t let you do this. When people realize you’ve lied to them, they’ll tear you apart. Don’t you see that? Even if you made a mistake, even if you didn’t mean to lie—they won’t care.”
“Georgia.” She adopts her stern tone. “You have to trust me. You wanted advance notice, and that’s what I’ve given you. I know what I’m doing. Now, move out of the way.”
“No!” I brace myself against the door. “Not a chance!” Standing up to Juno is no easy feat, but I’ve had to do it a few times in my life. This one is no less scary.
She walks over to me, her heels practically stomping. “Georgia, move! I mean it.”
“You’re having a mental breakdown or something. I should take your vitals.” I try to remember where I put my emergency kit. Each word sends my sister’s glower into deeper and darker territory. Still, I barrel ahead, “I don’t know what’s happened, why you’d believe this sort of crap, but I can check you out, and if you need?—”
A knock cuts through my words. “Georgia?” It’s Vince, his gruff voice vibrating through the wood.
“What?” My voice seems an octave higher. Shrill and panicked.
“Take a breath and open the door. Everyone downstairs can hear the shouting.”
“I won’t.” I spread my arms out wide, as if that could keep Juno from thrashing me. We didn’t fight much when we were younger, but there was the ‘last of the Oreos’ incident I remember vividly. To this day, I still proclaim innocence of the theft, though the only thing that stopped Juno from murdering me that day was our mom.
“You will.” Vince tries the handle.
“Georgia, move.” Juno’s glare is hotter than the sun in July.
Vince jiggles the handle with more verve. “I know it all sounds a little nutty.”
“A little?” The shrillness is still there. The fear.
“Would I let your sister walk into danger?”
“No.” I have as much faith in that as a religious belief. Vince’s entire life revolves around keeping Juno safe.
“Do you trust Juno?” he asks.
Vince agreed to this? I feel like my eyebrows are in my hairline and my mind is a buzzing hive of confusion. “Yes, but?—”
“No ‘buts’, girl.” He’s even gruffer now. “Do you trust her or not?”
“I …” I meet Juno’s gaze. It softens as she takes a deep breath and reaches for my arms. She doesn’t pull me away, just squeezes me a little in a reassuring way. “Trust me, sis. I’ve got this.”
“I do trust you.” It’s the truth.
“Then you have to let me do this. Once this press conference is over, you’ll see what I mean, and then it’ll be time for you to get to work.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will. Trust, little sister.” She leans forward and kisses my forehead. Then she laughs a little and rubs away her lipstick with her palm. “It’s a good color for me, but you don’t have enough melanin to carry it off.”
The tension between us ebbs, and my grip on the door handle lightens a fraction. “Do you promise it isn’t a lie?” I ask softly, stupidly, childishly. Hopefully.
“I promise.” She crosses her finger over her heart the way she taught me when I was still little. That sort of promise was ironclad, far more binding than the pedestrian pinky promise.
“Fine.” I breathe out, my knees a little wobbly as I step forward and allow Vince to open the door.
Fatima, her face pale, stares at me from behind Vince. “They’re restless. We need to get going.”
“I’m ready.” Juno stops beside me and pulls me in for a quick hug. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I say, slightly dazed.
“Believing in me.” With that, she lets go and strides down the hallway and to the stairs. The clamor in the reception room grows as she approaches.
I follow and meet Candice outside the room where we can still get a decent view of the podium where Juno will speak. I hurriedly put my mask in place and reach over to pinch Candice’s nose bridge to make sure it’s secure.
“You look whiter than my dentures. That bad, huh?” Candice leans on my arm.
“I’m … I …” I don’t know what to say.
Fatima, her headscarf a deep navy today, taps on the microphone, then speaks in a steady voice. “Governor Clark will make her remarks. We will not have time for a question and answer session.” This is met with grumbles. “Please be respectful to the governor as well as to each other.”
The front door opens, calling my attention away from the press conference.
The guard nods at the newly-arrived guests, who I assume are late press members—at least until I see them. I recognize the first man immediately. His deep blue eyes sweep the room and seize on me as he walks with neat, measured strides toward the reception room. I stare, unable to look anywhere else but at him. Tall, lean but strong, he wears his suit like he was born into it. Impeccable. Handsome. Undeniably cold. His strange magnetism rankles, but even so, I’m drawn in. Watching him as he watches me.
Valen Dragonis is dangerous. I know that much. Anything else about him is a mystery. Behind him, a man with white-blond hair and steely gray eyes follows.
Valen breaks his gaze with me as he walks into the press briefing along with the blond man. They climb the few steps to the stage and take up positions behind my sister.
I find myself clenching the doorframe as they stand at her back, both of them towering over her as she speaks. Vince is to the side, his eyes on the men, his hand not quite on his gun but at his hip all the same. It’s like a reflex for him, sensing trouble but trying to stay calm.
“… presidency isn’t for the faint of heart. I think all of you here know that I’m not a shrinking violet when it comes to doing the work of governing. Texas is strong, our people are fed, and we are maintaining order here in Austin and all over the state. There has been no looting, no massive waves of crime, no constant shortages that other states are experiencing. I’m here to lead. And in that vein—” She smirks a little. “I’m here to give you a roadmap of what my first year will be like.”
“Aren’t you getting the cart ahead of the horse?” a reporter calls.
Fatima steps forward, poised to scold—but Juno waves her back with a gentle hand movement. “No, it’s all right. It’s a fair question. The presidency is still up for grabs, and if you’ve had your ear to the ground, you know that President Gray doesn’t intend to leave office without a fight. There’s a saying ‘you don’t have to attend every fight you’re invited to’, but I certainly disagree. I feel it would be rude not to attend, and tonight is when I officially RSVP.” Pregnant pause as she scans the room. Juno has always been able to hold a crowd in the palm of her hand. Tonight is no different. “In my first year as your president, I vow that the federal government will develop a cure for the plague.”
Candice turns to look at me. My knees go a little weak as the reporters erupt in shock, some in jeers, others in jaded laughter. A few of them leave, anger powering their steps as they hurry through the foyer and out into the night.
“Settle down!” Fatima yells in her schoolteacher voice. “Settle down, please!”
The guffaws lessen somewhat, but plenty of whispers remain. “ Nothing like campaign promises ,” someone mutters. “— going to eat her alive … – Gray will become our Dear Leader at this rate .”
Juno turns to Valen. He steps up beside her, his black suit seeming to swallow the light just as his cold gaze swallows the whispers. His presence is curious, not just to the press but to me as well. Curiosity is dangerous .
“Now, to show you the truth of my claim, I’m prepared to give a demonstration.” Juno’s voice rings out clear and strong.
“What?” I step forward, but Candice keeps her grip on my arm. We’re just inside the reception room now, all eyes on Valen.
“Vince, if you please.” Juno rolls up her sleeve and holds out her arm.
My insides twist as Vince pulls out his pocketknife and opens it, the silver glinting in the bright lights.
“What in the name of—” Candice yelps.
Vince, without hesitation, cuts a long gash down Juno’s arm.
The entire room gasps, and I pull away from Candice and try to push my way through the throng of reporters. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I don’t like it. I need to get to Juno.
“Witness!” Juno calls with the fervor of an old-timey preacher.
I keep pushing despite some of the people throwing elbows or trying to block me as everyone crushes forward for a better look. By the time I reach the front and have a clear view of Juno again, Valen is drawing a silver blade across his palm. When he pulls away, I see blood on his pale skin, the flesh neatly split.
“Stop!” I yell.
Vince jumps down from the stage and barrels toward me.
“Juno!” I drag my eyes away from him to stare at the deep cut on her arm. Oh god, Vince cut tendons. It’s almost down to the bone. I have to help her now or she’ll lose function. Fuck!
Valen holds up two fingers, each of them streaked with his blood. Then, with a smooth movement, he swipes his blood across her wound.
“Don’t!” I yell as Vince makes it to me and grabs my arm.
Juno’s gaze locks on me. “Trust me,” she says through the din of shocked reporters. “Trust me, Georgia.”
I fight to get to the stairs, but Vince isn’t letting go. “Wait!” he hisses. “Just wait!”
“ What the fuck ?” The reporters behind me are still jostling forward, and the cameras at the side of the room have moved in closer. Blood draws journalists like shit draws flies.
“Let go!” I yell at Vince. He refuses and bears my anger with a stoicism that pisses me off even more.
When I look up again, Valen is staring down at me, his eyes dark, the blood on his skin a stark red. All I can think of is what could be lurking in that crimson forest. Plague virus, influenza, one of the old coronaviruses of the past—anything could be infecting Juno right this second. Why would she do such a thing?
“Now!” She raises her arm.
I stop. The entire room stops. It’s still, as if someone has cast a spell that locks us in amber. The gash is gone. Completely gone. The only thing left is a slight trace of blood, and somehow, I know it isn’t even hers.
“Juno!” I lunge forward, breaking Vince’s hold as I awkwardly climb onto the podium and yank Juno’s arm toward me. “What were you thinking?” I can barely hear past the screaming in my mind as I run my hand along her smooth flesh. “What the fuck, Juno? What the fuck?” I can’t find a break in her skin. Everything is smooth and brown, unblemished.
“It’s all right.” Juno grips my wrist and shoots a scowl at Vince. “Really, Georgia. I’m perfectly all right.”
The room behind me is in an uproar, the reporters jockeying to get closer. “Move! Let us see!”
Juno pulls me around to her side. “My doctor—who also happens to be my sister—is just as surprised as all of you. She didn’t know about this demonstration. But she has seen—” She holds up her arm. “—what this new discovery can do. Look for yourselves.”
A million cameras snap photos, and I’m suddenly painfully aware of the sheer number of people with their attention focused on us.
Someone snickers behind me. “ Primitives ,” he hisses. It’s the blond man who came in with Valen.
Juno steps back to the microphone and holds out her hands. “Settle down. Settle down, everyone. I will explain.”
The room stills somewhat, though the agitation in the air is like a living thing, its tail whipping and snapping silently over our heads. I ease down the steps to Vince, my entire body buzzing in alarm. Her arm—I need to examine it more. I need to know she’ll be all right.
“She knows what she’s doing.” Vince says into my ear as he grips my arm gently. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“I am.” I stare up at her, then look at Valen. His impassive face is just as stony as ever, displeasure in his eyes as he watches Vince and me.
Juno seems to shine even more brightly under the lights. “Now, for an explanation. I’ve recently learned about a group of people who’ve lived amongst us for the entirety of our lives, for generations. They’ve always been here, watching and waiting. Cheering humanity on silently?—”
“Aliens?” scoffs one reporter. “That’s how you’re going to explain this parlor trick?”
Juno ignores him. “They’ve kept themselves secret as they hoped for the day when we were ready for them to join us, when we could accept them as equals and embrace them. That day has finally come. They have seen our suffering, seen the ravages of the plague, and they are ready to step up and do their part to ensure humanity survives and thrives.” She holds up her arm. “That is what this is. A promise to us. All of us.”
She pauses as various members of the press shout questions that go unanswered. “Their blood holds the cure for the plague. You’ve seen what it can do for a simple wound. Imagine what it can do for this horrific virus. What you’ve witnessed here today is an end to the plague as we know it, a return to a sane world, a return to the American Dream. Now—” Her voice takes on a sharp edge. “President Gray has known about this miracle, has known that a cure was here just waiting to be discovered, but he’s done nothing about it. He’s let his people sicken and die while help was offered to him time and again by our new friends.” Her tone softens, her volume rising. “But as your president, I promise you that I will not turn this opportunity away. Together—” she glances at Valen, then back to the press, “—we will end this crisis and restore the promises of Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.” She turns and looks directly into the cameras along the wall, the ones broadcasting throughout the country and the world. “Thank you for your time, your trust, and your support. God Bless Texas and the United States of America.”
* * *