Felix Taylor Adventures 2-Book Bundle. Nicholas Maes
“Review it as you travel to Rome. And speaking of Rome, you have five minutes and fifteen seconds to catch the 8:36 shuttle.”
Felix rose from the table and walked by a scanner, being sure to expose his teeth to its rays. Grabbing a copy of Virgil’s Aeneid — whose contents he was trying to learn by heart — he approached the door to his father’s bedroom.
“I’m off!” he announced.
“Are you visiting the Forum?” his father asked.
“I think I’ll tour the Domus Aurea. But my shuttle’s leaving. I’ll see you later this afternoon. Dad? Did you hear me?”
“Yes,” his father spoke. “Have a great day, fili mi.”
“You, too. Bye.”
A minute later, Felix was exiting his building. He chuckled. His shuttle was leaving in ninety-three seconds yet he would catch it because there was hardly any lineup at the Portal. Was this his lucky day?
At Central Depot he was in such a rush that there wasn’t time to take in his surroundings. It was only when he’d clambered on board that he noticed the craft was strangely empty. Normally the aisles were packed with commuters, to the point where the auto-steward would have to guide him to a seat, whereas today less than half the g-pods were full. Was there a public holiday or something?
Unless ….
Before his thoughts could sour, Stephen Gowan waved him over. He was sitting at the front of the craft and the pod across from him happened to be vacant. Did he want to apologize for his brusqueness yesterday?
“Hello!” Felix greeted him, seating himself.
“It feels … busy,” Stephen said, with a look of confusion.
“Busy?” Felix laughed, mistaking his intention, “How can you say that when the shuttle’s half empty?”
“Is it cold in here?” Stephen asked. His hands were shaking slightly.
“It feels normal to me.”
He was going to ask Stephen where he worked in Rome, but his g-pod’s membrane closed and the floor vibrated — signs the shuttle had left its moorings. Activating an external monitor, he watched as a tractor beam steered them from the depot and lifted them above the downtown district. He glanced into the offices that drifted past.
“Felix,” Stephen gasped over his pod’s speaker, “Have you undergone ERR?”
“No. When the time came to decide, I opted out at my father’s suggestion.”
“So … you know fear?”
“Well, I experience it from time to time. You must remember it, too, from when you were young.” He was gazing at the monitor still. The shuttle had floated past a line of windows yet he’d glimpsed a total of fifteen people. Where was everybody? And instead of accelerating, the shuttle was braking.
“Beneath my ERR, I’m afraid,” Stephen whispered.
“Afraid of what?”
“There’s something inside me. It’s about to explode.”
“What’s inside you? You look kind of pale.”
“It’s too late. It’s taking over ….”
Slumping forward, he exposed the whites of his eyes. The shuttle halted and a whistle sounded.
“Honoured passengers,” the auto-steward spoke, “InterCity Services regrets to inform you that Shuttle 947, from Toronto to Rome, is experiencing five medical crises on board. A Medevac will dock with us in seven seconds and convey affected passengers to a nearby Health Facility. Shuttle 947 will then return to the main depot. All g-force pods have been hermetically sealed and will disengage on the completion of our disinfectant protocols. We apologize …”
Before the steward could finish its announcement, each Teledata screen displayed a message in bold letters: “Stay tuned for a broadcast from our Global President.” A countdown appeared. One minute and ten seconds, nine, eight, seven …
The shuttle trembled slightly. A ceiling panel above Stephen opened and a Flexbot arm shot into the cabin. Before Felix had a chance to address him, his pod was hoisted into an Evac-tube. Felix glimpsed his face and almost flinched in horror: normal just moments before, it was covered now with blood-red blisters. And his fingertips looked like they’d been steeped in red ink.
… Thirty-two, thirty-one, thirty …
And Stephen wasn’t the only one affected. Two seats behind him a man had toppled over, and a well-dressed lady further down was crumpled up, with a Portadoc lying on its side by her feet. Flexbots were busy removing them as well.
… Twelve, eleven, ten …
Felix thought his heart would explode. What was happening? Why had all these people fainted? What did their blisters and red fingertips mean? Were they dying? Was it his turn next …?
… Three, two, one …
As soon as the countdown expired, a face filled his screen — as well as every other screen on board the shuttle. Felix recognized Sajit Gupta at once, three-time president of the World Federation. A handsome man with a friendly manner, President Gupta was subdued at that moment.
“My fellow citizens,” he spoke in a sober tone, “I’m afraid I have worrying news to deliver. Five days ago a virus came to our attention, a strain our immunologists had never seen. The Federation wasn’t concerned, but quarantined its victims and set to work on finding a vaccine. Now, four days later, the virus has infected millions. A mere three people have died so far, but the rest are ill and require hospitalization. As far as any vaccine is concerned, I regret to say it has eluded us still …”
Felix gasped. This was even worse than he’d imagined.
“In an effort to contain this virus, my government has published a decree that prohibits citizens from traveling at large. We insist that you remain inside your homes, monitor your health at six-hour intervals, and obey the authorities should you suffer infection. All transportation has been cancelled forthwith, and this ban includes all off-world traffic. Failure to comply with these rules will result in arrest and immediate detention.”
There was a bump as the shuttle returned to its moorings. Felix’s g-pod opened, but he didn’t move. He lacked the strength to budge from that spot.
“My dear citizens, over the last hundred years we have conquered hunger, war, and most diseases. Science has served us well in the past, and I feel confident it will rescue us again. In the meantime, I beg you to remain optimistic. We will eliminate this plague but we must trust in our reason. As always I wish you the best blessings I can think of, peace, rationality and constructive thoughts.”
The president waved and the screen went blank. Immediately, an alarm bell rang and the steward ordered passengers to leave by the closest exit. A line of people shuffled down the aisle, quietly, calmly, betraying no fear. As Felix watched them and wrestled with his panic, he envied them their ERR. It’s too bad his father was opposed … His father! Felix leaped to his feet. Was his dad still at home or had he left for work? He’d looked frail and tired the day before and Felix prayed this didn’t mean … Running down the aisle, he exited the shuttle.
The scene that confronted him in the station was ghastly. A good dozen people had collapsed to the tiles and a line of Service Units was hauling them off. A girl kept repeating she wanted to stay, but the machines had their orders and were deaf to her pleas. An older man was crawling on all fours, in an effort to escape the units’ cold touch. Auto-ushers were everywhere and escorting commuters to their destinations.
The lineups at the Portals were maddeningly long. People were standing a distance from each other and covering their mouths with anything at hand — handkerchiefs, socks, baseball caps. Without warning, a woman in front of Felix fainted and the crowd instantly