Free Plague Ship by Leonard Goldberg Page B

speechless. He stared at David for a full ten seconds before asking in a whisper, “Are you sure?”
    “Ninety-nine percent,” David replied and recited the details of the sick bird in Kit’s diary, then told him about the newly ill passengers. “So we’ve already got six who are sick, and that’s just the beginning of this nightmare.”
    Rutherford clasped his hands together tightly, a man now clearly out of his depth. “Wh-what should we do?”
    “A number of things,” David said and immediately prioritized the list. “First, we have to find the damn bird and place it in something airtight. My daughter told me it’s located down some slippery steps that lead to a large room with screened-off generators on one side and pipes and wires on the other. Do you know where that is?”
    Rutherford nodded promptly. “It’s a restricted area just beyond the pool.”
    “Does it have ventilation ducts?”
    “Of course,” Rutherford answered. He didn’t see the significance of the question at first, but then it came to him. “Do you think the virus is traveling to all parts of the ship via the ventilation system?”
    “Yes,” David said. “That’s exactly what I think.”
    “So, if we can remove the sick bird, we can stop the virus in its tracks,” Rutherford said and brightened at the prospect.
    “Maybe, maybe not,” David said carefully. “Usually the H5N1 bird flu virus is not easily transmitted between humans. Most of the cases have occurred in poultry workers who were exposed to large doses of the virus from the sick birds. But for some reason, the bird virus aboard this ship is spreading rapidly from person to person. In essence, we have a transmissible killer on the Grand Atlantic .”
    Rutherford’s face turned ashen. “Can—can a virus change itself into such a virulent form?”
    David nodded gravely. “It happened in the great flu epidemic of 1918. And I suspect it’s happened here. In all likelihood, a fair number of people have already been infected. When they develop symptoms and start coughing, they’ll become carriers of the virus and be able to transmit it to other passengers. Nevertheless, the sick bird remains a major source of the virus.”
    “So it’s still important to remove the bird,” Rutherford thought aloud.
    “Oh yeah,” David said at once. “The only question is who’s going to go down there and stick his nose next to a sick bird whose body is teeming with a deadly virus.”
    Rutherford hesitated a moment, then said bravely, “As captain of the ship, I should do it.”
    “Don’t be stupid,” David said. “You have to stay in command of the Grand Atlantic . You’re one of the people we’ve got to keep healthy.”
    “Who then?”
    “Me.”
    Rutherford squinted one eye. “Do you know how to do it with any degree of safety?”
    “No, but I think I know somebody who does,” David said, then refocused his mind on the list of tasks for Rutherford to do. “Now, while I’m busy learning how to bag that bird, there are a number of things you must do pronto. First, I’ll give you the names of the infected passengers. We have to keep them isolated from the others at all times. They are to stay in their cabins and have all their meals delivered.”
    “Done.”
    “Secondly, two of your deckhands are down with the illness,” David went on. “You have to find a room to put them in, so they don’t infect the entire crew.”
    “Done.”
    “Next, go through your passenger list and cull out those who wrote down the present or prior professions as doctors or nurses. Call each of them and have them gather in one of your conference rooms.”
    “I could do that faster on the PA system.”
    David shook his head. “That could cause people to panic, and that’s the last thing we need.”
    “Right, you are.”
    “And one final thing,” David concluded. “Did you contact the Navy regarding our problem?”
    “Not yet,” Rutherford replied. “I decided to put in a call