It was Wednesday. The skies were cloudy; the traffic in Moscow was horrendous as usual. Researchers Anton and Eva Gregorovich hurried to the Universitet, ignoring passing students as they looked for fellow scientist Misha Dementyev. They had important news about their ongoing research of viruses in sheep. They had found a virus called anthrax, so deadly it could wipe out herds of sheep.
They went up to the twenty-fourth floor, and saw students taking notes and doing labs in other rooms. As they walked into Room 2425, Anton saw Misha looking through a microscope, and many other scientists walking hurriedly around with various folders and books.
"Misha! We have important news!" said Anton.
"What is it?"
Eva answered him, "We have found many strains of this anthrax that kills sheep, but we have also found one unique strain."
Misha looked surprised, and asked, "What does this strain do?"
Anton leaned forward, and whispered urgently, "You mustn't tell anyone about this."
Misha nodded.
"We found a strain that can kill armies of soldiers, wipe out cities, and dilute any stream or infect any farm. It is the ultimate army chemical weapon, but we think we should hide it for now in case the government discovers it."
Misha looked alarmed, saying, "How? This anthrax is only contagious in sheep and can only kill sheep!"
Anton responded, "We experimented a bit, Misha. This is dangerous territory, but you must help us hide it until we make an antidote. This can not be released to the public before an antidote has been made."
Misha nodded.
The next day, Misha was given, in secret, the five vials containing deadly and contagious anthrax to hide. They were protected by rubber seals and secured in a locked briefcase and styrofoam, but he feared it was not enough.
He hurried to the metro, and went back to his apartment. All of the color had faded out of the brickwork, which was damp, moldy, and covered with graffiti—not artwork but political slogans, swearwords, the names of city football teams. The windows were so dirty that they looked more like rusty metal than glass. The whole thing seemed to be sagging in on itself, hardly bothering to stay upright.
He did not care. The only thing that mattered was the briefcase in his hand. He unlocked the door into the apartment. The smell of sweat and dirt washed over him. He went over to the table. Sixteen, thirty, five. Misha quickly opened the briefcase and looked at the spores in the vials. Making sure they were sealed properly, he gingerly placed them into a firm metal box.
After removing a loose brick from the wall, he placed the box in and covered the hole again. He did not bother to take a shower, instead he went over to the dirty mattress on the ground and quickly fell asleep.
He woke up five hours later, got dressed, and ate breakfast at a small, grimy cafe. When went back to his room in the Universitet, Anton and Eva were anxiously waiting for him.
"We were contacted by the government early this morning," Eva explained. "And
somehow they have discovered our research in endosperms, particularly anthrax. They have also learned of the deadly anthrax we have found, and they want to see it."
Anton told him, "We aren't sure how to do this. I certainly do not want the government to have the vials. We need to show them another form of anthrax until we have a cure."
Misha suddenly looked really tired.
"What we will do about the dangerous strains right now?" he asked.
"We have no idea. I want to start working on the cure right now."
Nobody had any idea where to begin. The group of scientists that Misha confided in could not solve anything. There was no cure as far as the deadly strain went.
At around 5:00 PM, an expensive black car stopped in front of the school. Three serious looking men came out, wearing black suits. They all went up to Room 2425.
"Where is Anton Gregorovich?" One of them demanded.
"I am here." Anton responded.
"We have our suspicions that you are developing a strain of anthrax which is considered deadly among our top scientists."
"Yes. It is over here, but we would like you to place it in an extremely safe environment for risk of contamination."
The men took the three test tubes of anthrax which were not deadly at all, and left without saying anything else.
After they had left, Anton, Eva, and Misha let out a sigh of relief. They still had to find a cure, but the involvement of the government had passed.