Not personally.” It figured, Sam realized. Absurd as it was, Norment was never a microscope guy.
“So, not having looked at it, you don’t know if …”
“If it’s weaponized? Something as exotic as Bruce Ivins could have made? Something imported from
Russia
? I rather doubt that, Sam.”
“What about samples stored here?”
“All accounted for.”
“No information on any likely suspects? Anybody get fired, or book off work and not sign in the last couple of days?”
“No,” Barrigar says quietly.
“Come on, Sam. This is your specialty, isn’t it?” Norment is smiling.
“Have you started checking all the other vectors?”
“Such as?”
“There’s a university right across the street. Some international students over there, I’d guess. That’s worth a test. Maybe the airport—gee, where else? Maybe the federal buildings, the draft board, the nearest synagogue …”
“Sure you would, Sam. The draft board? Yeah, sure, that’s exactly what you’d do. And you’d start a panic. Blow things out of proportion. We’ve got three
little
sites. My boys and girls tell me these are minimal. And we’ve managed to handle things quietly.”
“So, somebody walked in, dumped some spores on the floor …”
“Yes. That’s exactly what happened. All our people have been vaccinated already—that’s new since your day—we’re already cleaning up, and I’ll be back in my office by the first of the week.” Norment smiles.
“There’s a list of vectors. For the Atlanta area, for DeKalb County. It might be out of date, but it’s a start. You can look it up. It might give you something to do, Joe.”
“I’ve got plenty to do, Sam. Thanks, it’s been fun chatting. Love to Maggie.” Barrigar has been in enough pissing contests to know when it’s time to leave, and he finally stands. Sam is already at the door when he hears the agent’s voice behind him.
“Dr. Norment, we’re sending out an investigation team today. We’ll be wanting to interview your staff.”
“This hasn’t got anything to do with my staff! This is from outside, definitely.
Interview my staff?
That’s absurd,” Norment says, his voice rising.
Watterman turns and watches him. It is really weird. Like déjà vu all over again.
Absurd
. A decade earlier, he had said almost exactly the same thing. Almost the same thing.
Word for word.
Most of the morning talk shows have audiences. She lines up for standby tickets for
The View
and gets in. Smiles, applauds, waits as the room heats up. Whoopi and Joy are professional and engaging and Whoopi makes a few jokes during the commercials. Daria takes the opportunity to leave, visit the bathrooms, shake people’s hands. She texts Creighton, gets nothing back and as she walks across the city tries calling, but the number just rings a dozen times and goes dead.
She works her way from
Good Morning America
and over to NBC for the
Today
show. Eventually she washes up at Fox and has to wait for almost a half hour before being shuffled off to Kyle, who is gay—outrageous with orange streaks in his hair and wearing some kind of shiny lotion for his skin.
He tells her that there aren’t any jobs at all, but “You speak languages, so that’s good.” He leans back in his chair, eyes her narrowly. “And you’re hot enough. I mean that in a good way.”
They laugh. He takes her information and an infected
Klic!
card and walks her back to the lobby.
She uses her cell to try Creighton again, with no result, and decides to try for
Martha Stewart
. Now she cannot help looking around to see if she is being followed, but the city is so busy theycould be anywhere. She has grown used to the gusting winds down the canyons of buildings, but now there is a change. The weather has turned, perhaps for the first time of the season. It’s going to rain, she decides.
Martha’s show starts at two; she pays to get into the studio audience and repeats her tactics there, and is out by
“So, not having looked at it, you don’t know if …”
“If it’s weaponized? Something as exotic as Bruce Ivins could have made? Something imported from
Russia
? I rather doubt that, Sam.”
“What about samples stored here?”
“All accounted for.”
“No information on any likely suspects? Anybody get fired, or book off work and not sign in the last couple of days?”
“No,” Barrigar says quietly.
“Come on, Sam. This is your specialty, isn’t it?” Norment is smiling.
“Have you started checking all the other vectors?”
“Such as?”
“There’s a university right across the street. Some international students over there, I’d guess. That’s worth a test. Maybe the airport—gee, where else? Maybe the federal buildings, the draft board, the nearest synagogue …”
“Sure you would, Sam. The draft board? Yeah, sure, that’s exactly what you’d do. And you’d start a panic. Blow things out of proportion. We’ve got three
little
sites. My boys and girls tell me these are minimal. And we’ve managed to handle things quietly.”
“So, somebody walked in, dumped some spores on the floor …”
“Yes. That’s exactly what happened. All our people have been vaccinated already—that’s new since your day—we’re already cleaning up, and I’ll be back in my office by the first of the week.” Norment smiles.
“There’s a list of vectors. For the Atlanta area, for DeKalb County. It might be out of date, but it’s a start. You can look it up. It might give you something to do, Joe.”
“I’ve got plenty to do, Sam. Thanks, it’s been fun chatting. Love to Maggie.” Barrigar has been in enough pissing contests to know when it’s time to leave, and he finally stands. Sam is already at the door when he hears the agent’s voice behind him.
“Dr. Norment, we’re sending out an investigation team today. We’ll be wanting to interview your staff.”
“This hasn’t got anything to do with my staff! This is from outside, definitely.
Interview my staff?
That’s absurd,” Norment says, his voice rising.
Watterman turns and watches him. It is really weird. Like déjà vu all over again.
Absurd
. A decade earlier, he had said almost exactly the same thing. Almost the same thing.
Word for word.
Most of the morning talk shows have audiences. She lines up for standby tickets for
The View
and gets in. Smiles, applauds, waits as the room heats up. Whoopi and Joy are professional and engaging and Whoopi makes a few jokes during the commercials. Daria takes the opportunity to leave, visit the bathrooms, shake people’s hands. She texts Creighton, gets nothing back and as she walks across the city tries calling, but the number just rings a dozen times and goes dead.
She works her way from
Good Morning America
and over to NBC for the
Today
show. Eventually she washes up at Fox and has to wait for almost a half hour before being shuffled off to Kyle, who is gay—outrageous with orange streaks in his hair and wearing some kind of shiny lotion for his skin.
He tells her that there aren’t any jobs at all, but “You speak languages, so that’s good.” He leans back in his chair, eyes her narrowly. “And you’re hot enough. I mean that in a good way.”
They laugh. He takes her information and an infected
Klic!
card and walks her back to the lobby.
She uses her cell to try Creighton again, with no result, and decides to try for
Martha Stewart
. Now she cannot help looking around to see if she is being followed, but the city is so busy theycould be anywhere. She has grown used to the gusting winds down the canyons of buildings, but now there is a change. The weather has turned, perhaps for the first time of the season. It’s going to rain, she decides.
Martha’s show starts at two; she pays to get into the studio audience and repeats her tactics there, and is out by
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