Free World without Cats by Bonham Richards Page A

how did she contract it? “Have there been any other cats in your house in the past week or so?”
    “Why no. Of course not,” the woman answered. Her tone displayed resentment that Vera would even ask such a question.
    “I have to tell you, Mrs. Amend, that the prognosis is very poor. I think your cat has a bacterial infection and …”
    “But you gave Madame a shot for enteritis in September!” Mrs. Amend accused.
    “I know. But I don’t think she has enteritis. It’s something else. You’d better leave her with me and I’ll do what I can.”
    Mrs. Amend frowned, eyeing Vera with suspicion. “All right.”
     
    By Monday morning, Madame was dead, the phone was ringing nonstop, and the two vets were exhausted. Cats were dying all over the city.
     

 
    M. J. Pettit, professor of clinical microbiology in the UCLA medical school, ended his lecture on plague and tularemia. As his students bustled and chattered, he prepared to depart.
    “Dr. Pettit, do you have a second? I have a question.” The professor looked up. It was Marilyn Sturtevant, a studious blonde—one of the top achievers on exams.
    “Sure, What is it?”
    “Before today’s lecture, I thought plague was a disease of the past like smallpox—wiped out. But you say it’s still with us.”
    “That’s right.”
    “You also said it’s common in wild rodents in Southern California.”
    Pettit nodded.
    The woman shook her head. “I guess I’m kind of shocked. I had no idea we had plague locally,”
    “Most people don’t … not until there’s a case reported in the news or a campground is closed because plague bacteria are found in squirrels or other animals. Do a web search. You’ll be amazed.”
    “I guess what I want to ask is, what is the probability of a black plague epidemic like that in Europe in the fourteenth century?”
    “Excellent question, Marilyn. The odds are nearly zero. Why? Because the virulent genetic strain of Yersinia pestis responsible for the black death is thought to be extinct.”
    “Oohh. So there are different strains of plague bacteria that vary in their pathogenicity.”
    “Exactly. Remember, however, that under the right conditions, even a relatively benign strain can become virulent.”
    Sturtevant scribbled rapidly on her electronic pad. “Thank you, sir.”
    Pettit smiled. “You’re quite welcome… and please, drop the sir .”
    “Right.” She headed out the door, turned, and gave him a wave.
     
     

7  
April 2020
                         1,094,000,000
     
     
    Vera sat alone by a placid mountain tarn when suddenly she heard a man’s voice crying “Help! Help me!” She peered out over the icy lake and saw the drowning man thrashing about. She could see no boat—no line to throw him. She dove into the chilly water and swam as fast as she could. Yet, no matter how hard she stroked, she made no headway. The man’s head slipped below the water.
    Vera woke with a start, her heart racing. No lake. No drowning man. She didn’t need a shrink to decipher the dream. No way could she and Kal handle the work piling up without additional help. Her hand shook as she punched in Gary McKeever’s number. “Gary, this is Dr. Barnett.” Her voice wavered with fatigue and tension. “Is Jane there?”
    “Just a minute, I’ll put her on,” Gary answered hoarsely. Vera realized that seven thirty in the morning was on the early side for a scientist who often worked hours past midnight.
    When Jane came on the line, Vera said, “Jane, could you possibly put in some extra time for a while? There is some sort of epidemic affecting the cats in town and I have more work than I can handle. Kal and I could use your help in calming our clientele. I’ve been so busy answering questions, I haven’t had enough time for the animals. I …” Vera’s voice broke. She sobbed.
    “Take it easy, Dr. Bar … Vera. I’ll be over as soon as I get Gary some breakfast … no, he can get his own breakfast.