Haven Days

(December 2019-January 2020)

2-Batten Down

Mr. and Mrs. Pines hand planned to come up to Gravity Falls a few days later, but they showed up one week before Christmas, on Wednesday, when Stan and Ford called everyone—including Soos and Melody—in to a family meeting. Somberly, Ford broke the news: a pandemic was imminent. "Unless drastic actions are taken now," he said, "and that does not seem at all likely, since we cannot convince national governments to take the treat seriously, this will be the worst thing the world has faced since the H1N1 influenza epidemic of 1918-1919."

"The Spanish Flu," Stanley said.

Ford glanced at his twin. "That was the popular name, yes, but the virus seems to have originated in the United States. Admittedly, it hit Spain unusually hard in May and June of 1918, but actually it had broken out the previous January in Haskell County, Kansas, probably originating on a hog farm. The virus was endemic in swine, though not lethal to them, and presumably mutated to make the species jump to humans. In January soldiers at an Army camp—"

"Ford, Ford," Stanley said. "We don't need the whole enchilada. Cut to the vital parts."

"Yes, dear," Lorena said, smiling at her husband. "The probable pandemic is as great a threat as the 1918 flu because—"

"Because it reportedly spreads rapidly, has a devastating impact on the elderly especially, and humans lack a natural immunity to it," Ford said. "I'm sorry for being prolix. I haven't been sleeping well. The Agency has tried repeatedly to alert the authorities, but they . . . just don't want to listen." He pulled himself together and said, "This virus is spreading in Asia. The 1918 flu infected one-third of the world's population and world-wide, fifty million people died from it. Nearly seven hundred thousand in the United States alone."

Stanley stood up. "So," he said, "me and Poindexter here came up with a kind of a plan. Nobody's gonna like it, but it's the best we got to offer."

"There are historical precedents," Ford put in. "Specifically, the town of Gunnison in Colorado."

"Yeah," Stanley agreed. "That place didn't have a single case of flu in 1918 and 1919. At least not the killer kind."

"How did they escape?" Alex Pines asked.

"They imposed a strict quarantine," Stanford said. "No one from outside could enter the town. If a townsperson left, he or she would not be allowed to return."

"Way harsh, dawg!" Soos said.

"Indeed," Stanford said in agreement. "But preferable to the alternative. A strict quarantine of the Falls is precisely what we propose."

"Can that even work in the modern world?" Wanda Pines asked.

"Yeah, it can," Stanley said. "Nature arranged for Gravity Falls Valley to be easy to protect. There's only one way in and one way out of it."

"Dude," Soos said, frowning. "I know how to get out of the place and to the highway, but—oh, wait, I get it!" He chuckled and explained to Mabel, "The way out is the same as the way in, Mabel!" When she didn't give him a smile, he asked, "What's wrong?"

"Grunkle Ford said the viruses came from hogs," Mabel said miserably. "That's terrible."

"We don't know where the present virus came from," Ford said. "Swine aren't the only species to harbor viruses."

"But Waddles and Widdles are living up on Wendy's aunt's farm, and that's outside the Valley," Mabel wailed. "Can they come back here so they won't catch this?"

"I want to ask Aunt Sallie to shelter in the Valley," Wendy said. "We might be able to arrange for them to board with Farmer Sprott."

"No," Soos said. He glanced at Melody, who smiled and nodded. "Dudes, we already got a pig yard. All I have to do is knock together another house for them. We won't be getting any tourists in until the quarantine ends, so they'll be welcome. Oh, and that goat, too."

Ford held up his hand. "Fine and good, we'll settle that later. Anyway, Stanley and I propose to gate off the road into—and, yes, Soos, also out of—Gravity Falls. That will be our first line of defense. Now, the second will be the two dozen new houses that have been built beside the road and between town and the entry zone. We know that sometimes people may be forced to make trips out of the Valley and back in, and if our guard isn't careful, outsiders may slip in."

"We're gonna stash anybody like that in one of the new houses," Stanley said.

"For an isolation period only," Stanford added. "So far, we don't know the incubation period of the disease, but two weeks of quarantine should be adequate, and the housing will be comfortable."

Stan nodded. "Yeah, all the houses have cable and Internet. They're all furnished, and each house has a four-week supply of foods, including powdered milk, frozen meats and veggies, and even some of that freeze-dried stuff. Doc La Fievre is gonna take on a partner, and if anybody in one of the houses gets sick, they'll provide emergency care and see to it that if they need it, the sickies get transported to Mercy Hospital, where they got more equipment to deal with bad diseases."

"Question," said Mabel. "Is the freeze-dried food like those astronaut meals you used to sell in the Shack?"

"Yeah," Stan said. "Not that old, but roughly the same."

"How old?" Mabel asked suspiciously. "'Cause I remember I tried the astronaut foods when I was twelve years old, and the newest one had expired in 1992."

"They were good, though," Soos said. "I disposed of the ones we had left that time the health inspector was coming."

"You were a hero, Soos," Stan said flatly.

Alex rubbed his eyes, a lot like Stan always did when perplexed. "Are you saying that Wanda and I should move here?"

"That would be your choice," Ford said. "Alex, our best projection is that there will be a period of necessary isolation everywhere in the country. People will have to learn habits of strict cleanliness and in public situations, wear high-filtration face masks, and take other precautions. As your uncle, I would feel better if you could temporarily re-locate here, but you must make that decision."

Alex thought for a minute. "I could work from home for 95% of my job anyway," he said. "All I need is a good computer and the Internet. I have months of accumulated leave and vacation. Let me talk to the partners and I'll see if I can't arrange a year of distance working. I won't tell anyone the reason, just say it's personal."

"I think that would be best," Ford said. "You and Wanda are welcome to stay with Lorena and me."

"Or with us," Stan said, reaching to take Sheila's hand.

With a smile, Ford added, "Or even with Fiddleford and Mayellen. He specifically told me to invite you."

Mabel said, "But I have so many friends—you mean I won't be able to see them for a whole year?"

"Not in person," Ford said. "Unless this pandemic proves to be less damaging than we fear."

"Where will we live?" Mabel asked.

"Dudes, you guys are all welcome in the Shack!" Soos said. "We have plenty of room. And if we rearrange stuff and junk, we could even make the Museum into a bedroom and store the exhibits until later."

"But what will you live on?" Dipper asked. "You won't have any income until things get better."

"We're all gonna share," Stan said. "Can't believe I said that. Bleah! Funny taste in my mouth. But McGucket, me, and Brainiac here all have a healthy stash saved up. And we consider you guys, your kids, and Rosa to be family."

"Oh, dudes," Soos said. "Will Abuelita be able to get back from Mexico? She usually flies back in April."

"We can't predict that," Ford said. "Again, that's something you'll have to work out as a family."

Later, up in the attic bedroom, Dipper said, "This looks awfully grim."

"Lucky we have a steady income," Wendy said. "Your books and the TV money." The TV cartoon series based on Dipper's novels, Granite Rapids, had just been renewed for a third full season, and he received royalties regularly for the hardcover and paperback publications of his works.

"I wonder how Stan and Ford plan to deal with commerce?"

"What?"

"With supplies, you know, food and stuff. The Valley isn't self-sufficient. I suppose the farms could supply about seventy or eighty per cent of food, but some stuff has to be brought in from outside."

"I'll bet they've planned that already," Wendy said. She sighed. "I hope Sallie will agree to come down. It'll be hard—she'd have to sell off all her animals, and she'd hate to do that. But she could live in the cabin that Dad built to rent out to tourists, and she'd be close to him there. But if I was a wagering woman, I'd say the odds are she'll want to tough it out on her own."

"If she does," Dipper promised, "we'll touch bases with her at least once every day."

"And what about Billy Sheaffer?" Wendy asked.

"I don't know. Maybe if this thing hits the States, we can get his family to come up for however long, six months or what it will take. Or we could offer to host him and his sisters, at least."

"Man," Wendy said. "I haven't been this scared since we got captured in the Fearamid."

Others were planning, too. Later that day, Fiddleford and Ford met for their own discussion. "I reckon we can shut down th' Institute, button 'er up good, and conduct classes by web conference an' suchlike," Fiddleford said.

"Yes. About half the faculty come from nearby and can take advantage of moving into the Valley," Ford said. "We can all record lecture segments and use them to supplement video conferencing. We can do it. I expect we might be able to hold on to half of our present students and, if sheltering in place becomes the norm across the country, we may even be able to pick up some new ones."

"In the meantime," Fiddleford said, "iffen your agents can safely get aholt of a sample of this virus for examination, I've done set up a complete containment lab at th' Institute. I reckon that I can safely travel between here and there an' live in one of the quarantine houses while I do that. I got two experts who'll help me, and we've designed ultra-hazmat suits."

"It will be very difficult to create, test, and implement a vaccine," Ford said wearily. "And it would take months, at best."

"Not necessarily," Fiddleford said. "Don't git me wrong. Yeah, incumabating a kilt-virus or attenuated-virus vaccine like as with th' ordinary flu wouldn't be practicamable. 'Scuse my accent, it busts out when I'm real interested in a problem. What we're a-gonna propose is different. We're aiming to build nanomobots to inject into humans."

"That's never been done," Ford said.

The old man shrugged and grinned. "Always a first time! Iffen we can find a sure-enough way for a nano-critter made of molecules to identify and neutralize the virus, we might can make everybody in the Valley be able to fight off the disease. We'll build in a self-limiting factor, o' course, so's the nanos won't last but for maybe eight weeks. That'd mean re-injecting the folks every two months."

"I've never studied that field," Ford said. "Would it work?"

"Oh, shore, it's theoretically feasible," Fiddleford said. "The big ketch is we couldn't come nowhere near enough production to protect everybody in th' state, let alone th' country. And we wouldn't use the stuff except as a last resort, if people in the Falls started comin' down with the disease."

"I'll agree to exploration," Ford said. He put his hand on the old man's shoulder. "But let me emphasize this: Take absolutely no chances. You're my oldest friend, and I couldn't bear to lose you."

Fiddleford nodded, but all he said was a gruff, "Thank ye."