Outbreak

I took my friend to the hospital, but it felt like we were sneaking in some type of classified weapon. The ambulance parked in the back instead of the bay, and a curtain was put around the gurney Jasper was on to shield him from any onlookers.

It felt so unnecessary. What do they think he has, Ebola?

Shiloh and I sit in the waiting room, along with thirty other patients. It’s a busy day for them, but they’re so understaffed. We barely had anybody tending to Jasper. I notice Shiloh twitch nervously every now and then, but she seems to relax whenever she sees I’m aware, as if she doesn’t want to disappoint, or maybe worry me. Good. It’s not that I necessarily want her to put up a front, but anything is better than falling out like Jasper.

“I don’t know what was wrong with her. She just started screaming and fainted,” I hear a boy whisper to the person sitting beside him. “They brought her in through the back and everything, too.”

That’s the second time today I’ve heard somebody else describe a condition similar to Jasper’s. The other was a woman yelling at the receptionist, demanding to know why she couldn’t know what happened to her brother, who was apparently curled up in a corner and crying, before he too went unconscious. Police ended up having to be called and she was apprehended because of her hostility, so I wasn’t able to question her. But now, the chance has come again.

“Excuse me,” I say, leaning closer to the two, “If you don’t mind me asking, was she saying anything strange?”

“Uh, yeah, actually. She kept going on about ‘seeing people dying.’”

“Was she at the Convention?” Shiloh chimes in, but I wish she hadn’t. We don’t need anybody connecting the dots.

“Yes, why?”

“Ignore her, please. The poor girl just says things out of the blue,” I say with mock pity. “It’s a tragic disorder. That’s why we’re waiting for a doctor.”

I subtly place a hand over my lips, concealing a smirk as I sense Shiloh glaring at me. That’s what you get for that stunt you did in class.

“She seems better off than my mom at least,” the boy says. “They’re going to put her in a facility, I just know it,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair.

If his mother is really as bad as Jasper, then yes, there’s a very high chance of that. Extreme instability is, as we’ve been taught, often the biggest warning sign before a person can become ‘dangerous.’ Getting out of a facility is already difficult for most, only 30 percent get freedom. But if the IPU suspects you of being downright crazy, that percentage drops to less than 5.

That’s why Jasper better get a grip soon, or else this may be the last time we ever see him.

A nurse later calls for me and Shiloh’s names, then brings us to where Jasper is being treated. He's asleep on the bed, his vitals displayed on the nearby monitor. The doctor looks terribly worn. Frankly, it annoys me a little bit. If he gets all tired out, how is he supposed to take care of Jasper properly? But when he sees me, his demeanor seems to liven up.

“You’re Calla Hartwell, correct? The president’s daughter?”

“I am.”

“Oh, thank goodness…” He sighs with relief. “You’re someone I can be transparent with.”

It's not a mystery to anybody that the president always brings his family to the Convention. Catching onto his implication, I ask, “Do you know about ‘it’, sir?”

His eyes shift over to Shiloh. She’s already a witness, so she’s safe. I nod to give him the pass to speak, then he answers, “Yes, every hospital in the vicinity was made aware. The IPU predicted an outbreak of panic amongst the attendees, and well, they were correct.”

I walk over to Jasper, studying his state. He doesn’t look nearly as sickly as he did earlier, but remembering the wreck he was in, I know better than to judge a book by its cover. “Is he going to be okay?” I ask.

“Physically, yes. But we’ll have to further assess how he is mentally once he wakes up.”

“Hey, Doc, no offense, but is that going to take a while? We haven’t seen much staff around,” says Shiloh.

“I apologize, miss. When we learned of the news, well… Let’s just say many were— very disturbed, and it’s best if they stay home. But don’t worry, your friend is still in good hands.”

Fear spreads like a virus, one almost impossible to contain. It’s a disease the IPU has been working hard to spare us from for centuries. Now, in just a matter of days, we’re on the brink of a catastrophe. People are going to start getting suspicious, rumors could spread, or somebody may not be able to keep their mouth shut anymore – that’s all it would take to ignite the fire.

“I assume you were already told this is confidential?”

“Of course. Nobody knows who shouldn’t, so you and your father can rest assured—”

“Doctor,” the same nurse who brought us in suddenly barges into the room. “Lux Connell is in emergency and needs immediate attention.”

My head perks up to the door at the mention of “Lux Connell.” He’s the secretary of one of the government’s most important branches; the Department of Order. They’re the people who make the decisions about anything law enforcement, including who sleeps and who doesn’t. When I first met Lux, it was during my ninth birthday party; he made all my guests take an MME before they could come near me, even the little kids – even my cousins. Over 10,000 criminals were put to sleep the year he came into office, a huge spike compared to previous secretaries.

He operates like a drill sergeant, and even though I find him to be overbearing – which definitely says something – it’d be a shame if he too was traumatized. In a case like this, the IPU really needs a person like him.

The doctor excuses himself from us and hurries out the room, leaving us alone with a sleeping Jasper. Shiloh aims to wake him up by poking random spots on his body, but after I swat her off him, she rubs her hand with a sulking look. At least she doesn’t seem as on edge as she was in the waiting room.

“What do you think is going to happen to us?” she asks.

“Nothing, we’re going to be fine.”

“I dunno,” she stares down at Jasper while saying, “I’ve never seen anything like this before. Neither has the IPU.”

“That doesn’t matter. All they have to do is find her, then this will be over with. Just wait.”

“If you say so, I guess. You sure are confident.”

Outside the window, people are going about their business like usual, completely unaware of the imminent danger that lurks just inside the Headquarters that can be seen in the faraway distance. Ezri could be seeing the same view right now, and it irks me. Each of these people probably has a red target attached to their heads in her eyes.

“How could we have known something like this would happen, huh?” Shiloh says as she joins me beside the window.

And just then, her simple words make something click in my head. “That’s it,” I say eagerly, gripping her shoulders and turning her to face me.

“What’s it?”

It was no accident that the ship came in through the Racer. But the thing is – how could have Ezri and the others known about it? It’s hard to believe they just saw a random portal appear out of nowhere and “hoped for the best,” that’d be stupid. The only explanation is that they were already aware the Racer would open up at that place, at that exact moment.

The ones who had that information were Professor Katz, his team, and everyone else at the event.

“Can’t you see, Shiloh? Ezri must be someone who was at the Convention.”

And if I’m right – actually, no, I’m definitely right. It’s the best logical conclusion. If Dad heeds me, the situation will get simpler, yet— also a lot more complicated. Finding out who Ezri is will certainly be made easier by knowing all the potential candidates. However, as always… The Convention was full of people with influence and power – from stars, to scientists like Professor Katz, to the top dogs in government like Dad or Lux.

If Ezri turns out to be one of them, there’s a traitor in our midst, and who knows how long they’ve been plotting.