The Judas Strain - James Rollins [189]
Susan nodded. “Once opened to sunlight, the lake will build to a blow. If I missed it…”
“Then the world would be defenseless for three years. No cure. The pandemic would spread around the world.” Lisa imagined the microcosm aboard the cruise ship expanded across the globe.
The horror was interrupted by Seichan’s return, pounding up to them, breathless, her face shining damply. “I found a door.”
“Then go,” Susan urged. “Now.”
Seichan shook her head. “Couldn’t open it.”
Kowalski pantomimed. “Did you try giving it a hard shove?”
Seichan rolled her eyes, but she did nod her head. “Yes, I tried shoving it.”
Kowalski threw his hands high, surrendering. “Well, that’s all I got.”
“But there was a cross carved above the stone archway,” Seichan continued. “And an inscription, but it’s too dark to read. The words might offer some clue.”
Gray turned to the monsignor.
“I still have my flashlight,” Vigor said. “I’ll go with her.”
“Hurry,” Gray urged.
Already the air was getting difficult to breathe. The glow in the lake had spread far, sliding along the length of the spar toward shore.
Susan pointed to it. “I must be out on the lake.”
They headed toward the peninsula of rock.
Gray paced Lisa. “You mentioned a trespassed biosystem earlier. Mind telling me what the hell you think is really going on here?” He waved to the glowing lake, to Susan.
“I don’t know everything, but I’m pretty sure I know who all the key players are.”
Gray nodded for her to continue.
Lisa pointed to the glow. “It all started here, the oldest organism in the story. Cyanobacteria. Precursors to modern plants. They’ve penetrated every environmental niche: rock, sand, water, even other organisms.” She nodded to Susan. “But that’s getting ahead of the story. Let’s start here.”
“This cavern.”
She nodded. “The cyanobacteria invaded this sinkhole, but remember they needed sunlight, and the cavern is mostly dark. The hole above was probably even smaller originally. To thrive here, they needed another source of energy, a food source. And cyanobacteria are innovative little adapters. They had a ready source of food above in the jungle…they just needed a way to get to it. And nature is anything if not ingenious at building strange interrelationships.”
Lisa related the story she had once told Dr. Devesh Patanjali, about the Lancet liver fluke, how its life cycle utilized three hosts: cattle, snail, and ant.
“At one point, the liver fluke even hijacks its ant host. It compels the ant to climb a blade of grass, lock its mandible, and wait to be eaten by a grazing cow. That’s how strange nature is. And what happened here is no less strange.”
As Lisa continued, she appreciated being able to talk through her theories. She took a moment to explain Henri Barnhardt’s assessment of the Judas Strain, how he classified the virus into a member of the Bunyavirus family. She remembered Henri’s diagram, describing a linear relationship from human to arthropod to human.
“But we were wrong,” Lisa said. “The virus took a page out of the fluke’s handbook. Three hosts come into play here.”
“If cyanobacteria are the first hosts,” Gray asked, “what’s the second host in this life cycle?”
Lisa stared toward the plugged opening in the roof and kicked some of the dried bat guano. “The cyanobacteria needed a way to fly the coop. And since they were already sharing this cavern with some bats, they took advantage of those wings.”
“Wait. How do you know they used the bats?”
“The Bunyavirus. It loves arthropods, which include insects and crustaceans. But strains of Bunyavirus can also be found in mice and bats.”
“So you think the Judas Strain is a mutated bat virus?”
“Yes. Mutated by the cyanobacteria’s neurotoxins.”
“But why?”
“To drive the bats crazy, to scatter them out into the world, carrying a virus that invades the local biosphere through its bacteria. Basically turning each bat into a little biological bomb. Laying waste wherever it lands. If Susan is correct, the pool would send out these