the request talked to me.”
“It was an order from HHS.”
“Exactly,” Augustine said, and tapped the armrest on the door. “We’re having a problem at some of our schools.”
“They are not
my
schools,” Dicken said.
“Have we made clear how much of a pariah I am?” Augustine asked.
“Not nearly clear enough,” Dicken said.
“I know your sympathies, Christopher.”
“I don’t think you do.”
“How’s Mrs. Rhine?”
The goddamned high point of Mark Augustine’s career,
Dicken thought, his face flushing. “Tell me why I’m here,” he said.
“A lot of new children are becoming ill, and some of them are dying,” Augustine said. “It appears to be a virus. We’re not sure what kind.”
Dicken took a slow breath. “The CDC isn’t allowed to investigate Emergency Action schools. Turf war, right?”
Augustine tipped his head. “Only in a few states. Ohio reserved control of its schools. Congressional politics,” he said. “Not my wish.”
“I don’t know what I can do. You should be shipping in every doctor and public health worker you can get.”
“Ohio school medical staff by half last year, because the new children were healthier than most kids. No joke.” Augustine leaned forward in the seat. “We’re going to what may be the school most affected.”
“Which one?” Dicken asked, massaging his leg.
“Joseph Goldberger.”
Dicken smiled ruefully. “You’ve named them after public health heroes? That’s sweet, Mark.”
Augustine did not deviate from his course. His eyes looked dead, and not just from being tired. “Last night, all but one of the doctors deserted the school. We don’t yet have accurate records on the sick and the dead. Some of the nurses and teachers have walked, too. But most have stayed, and they’re trying to take up the slack.”
“Warriors,” Dicken said.
“Amen. The director, against my express orders but at the behest of the governor, has instituted a lockdown. Nobody leaves the barracks, and no visitors are allowed in. Most of the schools are in a similar situation. That’s why I asked you to join me, Christopher.”
Dicken watched the highway, the passing cars. It was a lovely afternoon and everything appeared normal. “How are they handling it?”
“Not well.”
“Medical supplies?”
“Low. Some interruption in the state supply chain. As I said, this is a state school, with a state-appointed director. I’ve ordered in federal emergency supplies from EMAC warehouses, but they may not get here until later tomorrow.”
“I thought you put together an iron web,” Dicken said. “I thought you covered your ass when they handed you all this, your little fiefdom.”
Augustine did not react, and that in itself impressed Dicken. “I wasn’t clever enough,” Augustine said. “Please listen and keep your head clear. Only select observers are being allowed into the schools until the situation is better understood. I’d like you to conduct a thorough investigation and take samples, run tests. You have credibility.”
Dicken felt there was little sense in accusing or tormenting Augustine any more. His shoulders drooped as he relaxed his back muscles. “And you don’t?” he asked.
Augustine looked down at his hands, inspected his perfectly manicured fingernails. “I am perceived as a disappointed warden who wants out of his job, which I am, and a man who would trump up a health crisis to protect his own hide, which I would not. You, on the other hand, are a celebrity. The press would wash your little pink toes to get your side of this story.”
Dicken made a soft nose-blow of dismissal.
Augustine had lost weight since Dicken last saw him. “If I don’t get the facts and plug them into some tight little bureaucratic columns in the next few days, we may have something that goes far beyond sick children.”
“Goddammit, Mark, we know how Shiver works,” Dicken said. “Whatever this is, it is
not
Shiver.”
“I’m sure
“It was an order from HHS.”
“Exactly,” Augustine said, and tapped the armrest on the door. “We’re having a problem at some of our schools.”
“They are not
my
schools,” Dicken said.
“Have we made clear how much of a pariah I am?” Augustine asked.
“Not nearly clear enough,” Dicken said.
“I know your sympathies, Christopher.”
“I don’t think you do.”
“How’s Mrs. Rhine?”
The goddamned high point of Mark Augustine’s career,
Dicken thought, his face flushing. “Tell me why I’m here,” he said.
“A lot of new children are becoming ill, and some of them are dying,” Augustine said. “It appears to be a virus. We’re not sure what kind.”
Dicken took a slow breath. “The CDC isn’t allowed to investigate Emergency Action schools. Turf war, right?”
Augustine tipped his head. “Only in a few states. Ohio reserved control of its schools. Congressional politics,” he said. “Not my wish.”
“I don’t know what I can do. You should be shipping in every doctor and public health worker you can get.”
“Ohio school medical staff by half last year, because the new children were healthier than most kids. No joke.” Augustine leaned forward in the seat. “We’re going to what may be the school most affected.”
“Which one?” Dicken asked, massaging his leg.
“Joseph Goldberger.”
Dicken smiled ruefully. “You’ve named them after public health heroes? That’s sweet, Mark.”
Augustine did not deviate from his course. His eyes looked dead, and not just from being tired. “Last night, all but one of the doctors deserted the school. We don’t yet have accurate records on the sick and the dead. Some of the nurses and teachers have walked, too. But most have stayed, and they’re trying to take up the slack.”
“Warriors,” Dicken said.
“Amen. The director, against my express orders but at the behest of the governor, has instituted a lockdown. Nobody leaves the barracks, and no visitors are allowed in. Most of the schools are in a similar situation. That’s why I asked you to join me, Christopher.”
Dicken watched the highway, the passing cars. It was a lovely afternoon and everything appeared normal. “How are they handling it?”
“Not well.”
“Medical supplies?”
“Low. Some interruption in the state supply chain. As I said, this is a state school, with a state-appointed director. I’ve ordered in federal emergency supplies from EMAC warehouses, but they may not get here until later tomorrow.”
“I thought you put together an iron web,” Dicken said. “I thought you covered your ass when they handed you all this, your little fiefdom.”
Augustine did not react, and that in itself impressed Dicken. “I wasn’t clever enough,” Augustine said. “Please listen and keep your head clear. Only select observers are being allowed into the schools until the situation is better understood. I’d like you to conduct a thorough investigation and take samples, run tests. You have credibility.”
Dicken felt there was little sense in accusing or tormenting Augustine any more. His shoulders drooped as he relaxed his back muscles. “And you don’t?” he asked.
Augustine looked down at his hands, inspected his perfectly manicured fingernails. “I am perceived as a disappointed warden who wants out of his job, which I am, and a man who would trump up a health crisis to protect his own hide, which I would not. You, on the other hand, are a celebrity. The press would wash your little pink toes to get your side of this story.”
Dicken made a soft nose-blow of dismissal.
Augustine had lost weight since Dicken last saw him. “If I don’t get the facts and plug them into some tight little bureaucratic columns in the next few days, we may have something that goes far beyond sick children.”
“Goddammit, Mark, we know how Shiver works,” Dicken said. “Whatever this is, it is
not
Shiver.”
“I’m sure
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