She sat, rocking. She found herself talking to her stomach. She called it Noreen. She rubbed it, telling it that they would be OK. She wasn't in the blue dress any more. It wasn't the same. Was this what the dream meant? She ate from a quart plastic container with chili in it. They didn't even give her a spoon but made her use a loaf of rye bread as a sop. It was cold and nasty but it filled her.
She remembered that Francis Gary Powers has been told by the Russians when his U2 had been shot down. You must either tell everything or tell nothing. Lying or holding back some was useless. You'd trip yourself up. She knew she should be brave and loyal but right now she felt like a frightened little girl in a deep, dark jail cell. She felt more frightened than when she was captured in New Harmony, Indiana. Maybe all the mother hormones were hitting her. Maybe it was being scared for the baby. Maybe it was Sean being captured. Maybe it was the hope that if she answered their questions they would keep them alive.
She showed them the encoding programs on her Blackberry and gave them the encryption keys. She even gave several plausible messages. Of course J.T. would know what was going on. He knew everything.
Sean was still groaning in the next cell. Or was he? She didn't even know if he was there. It could all be a recording or some sort of trick.
She finished the chili, drinking down the last of it and wiping her face off with the bread.
She rocked, and waited.
The two guys with shotguns left. Two more took their place.
Hogan came by. "How's the chili?"
"It was lousy. Got any more?"
"Besides data mining, how was Threshold trying to find us?"
She stood. "I'll answer any question, but you're going to let me see Sean first."
He nodded. "Alright."
They tossed in a set of incredibly heavy shackles. Feet, neck and wrists. She put it on. "Threshold should order from this company, this is huge."
Haldane opened the cell door. "Chrome Vanadium steel. Home made. We had a couple of Meth heads improve and break themselves out by breaking down the old jail."
She managed to shuffle out. The door to the next cell was open. She tried to go inside but Haldane grabbed her. Sean was held down to the bed frame by a set of shackles like hers as well as a set of hand cuffs. He looked awful. The grey haired man in the suit was in there. He'd taken off the jacket and tie and was sitting in a chair by him reading a Book of Mormon and eating a protein bar. There was a monitor on Sean measuring his pulse, respiration and temperature. Haldane nodded to him. "That's Dr. Bruce Corey."
Corey looked up. "He'll be alright. We caught it in time. I don't think there will be any long term damage."
"How long?"
"He's young. If he cooperates, maybe three days. You can help. He seems to be in shock, denying the improvement. You need to get him to want to be here for you and the baby."
Hogan tugged on her. "In a few minutes, Doctor." He led her down to the booking area. A football game was on. A teen aged boy was slouching, straddled over two chairs. Hogan thrust her down in a chair "Dr. Caffrey, you are about to watch a television first."
"I don't understand."
He turned to Haldane and the two shotgun toting civilians. "Foot cuff her to the chair. Release her hands and get her something to eat." In a few moments she was restrained and had a big burrito in her hands. "Now, do you know what game that is?"
She shrugged. "The Superbowl?"
"Yup. The Redskins vs. the Dolphins at the Rose Bowl."
The boy eyed Molly carefully, seeing her clanking chains. "What's she in for?"
"Kidnapping and mass murder. Be nice to her."
"I didn't do anything."
"You were going almost thirty miles above the speed limit. That's reckless driving. Just sit there quietly and watch the game. We'll call your parents in a few minutes. They can drive out from Phoenix and get you." He turned up the volume.
She always hated sports, especially football. It was just bulls with too much testosterone locking horns. She was a lot more interested in her burrito until the audio in the game went nastily bad, like a shriek from bad feedback. She took another bite, wondering what they were going to make her watch next. Then she looked besides her. The kid had doubled over, hands over his ears, writhing on the police station floor. But instead of helping the boy the whole police station started cheering and clapping. Molly just stared at the boy. "What is it with you? I think he's had a seizure. Get the doctor."
"You don't get it." Hogan muted the set. "Look at the field. Look carefully at the players."
It was a wide shot but she could see that both teams were lying on the ground clutching their helmets. She looked in horror, her mind refusing to take in what she had just seen. "You couldn't have?"
Hogan laughed. "Ninety million people are watching the game and improving at home right now." He changed the channel. It too had the same shriek. "That was a Tom Hanks love movie, until we took over the satellite. We took all the networks at once. Half the people in the country are improving now."
She took another bite. A bit too spicy and it needed more cheese. "You have to be wrong. I didn't feel anything. I didn't feel anything."
"You're improved." He nodded to Haldane. "Check our guinea pigs."
Haldane went to the radio. "Mercy State Prison this is Mercy Sheriff's office, what is your status?"
"As predicted. They're all rolling by now. A few are back up. We're getting them in their cells and running the blood work now."
"Copy. Mercy Sheriff's out." Haldane put the mike up and turned to Molly. "So, how many Threshold agents were watching the game?"
She silently thought. Arthur and J.T for sure. Probably Lucas. Probably not Dr. Fenway though. "Most."
"We improved well over a hundred million Americans today. We probably got eighty million voters. That's the majority of the voting population. How many senators and congressmen were improved? Was President Bush?"
She knew what a football fanatic Bush and Cheney were. They were no doubt at Bush's ranch in Texas watching the game, probably with a number of leading Republican senators. Even if there was a leadership core in the government that hadn't been infected, what could they do? Call the police? Mobilize the army and the National Guard? No, the demographics for Superbowl football fans and the military were almost a complete overlap. Most of the armed forces and reserves in the USA were becoming aliens right now. Her mind couldn't comprehend it. Compulsively, she finished the burrito.
"Operation Flood isn't over. This is just the first assault. And we aren't limiting the push to just the USA's borders. We're going across the globe today."
"How?"
Hogan smiled faintly. "The obvious is to do the same thing to the international television satellites as we did to the ones for the networks here in the States. Would you like to guess how many people we estimate are now improving around the world?"
Now would be prime time in Europe, the Mideast and Africa, Molly realized. Canada, Central and South America were on the same time zone as they were and used the same broadcast satellites. If they used the same techniques they could have infected hundreds of millions of more people. Australia, New Zealand, India, China and Pakistan would be the next logical targets. Even now they could catch morning viewers. And with the proliferation of satellite dishes throughout the world there was no way to stop the infection short of taking down their electric grid and searching for television sets house to house. And it was clear from the way he said it that Hogan had something else in mind as well.
They would have a staggering amount of money available. What would she do with that kind of numbers? Food imports. So much food is imported. Every tomato from Mexico, every can of Chinese apple juice could contain it. Tattoo parlors. People always bleed when receiving a tattoo. It's the perfect time to transmit the infection. Doctor's offices. Every medical procedure, every exam, every injection could now infect. Needle exchange programs for drug addicts. So many drug addicts were also prostitutes. They would be perfect for sexually transmitting the infection. They would muscle up and look healthier than the uninfected.
It didn't have to be a mass attack. It could be millions of little attacks. If every infected adult in two weeks infected one adult without being caught, aliens would be a strong majority. The blood bank worker letting an infected sample through. The restaurant worker slipping in some secret sauce. The Superbowl Sunday husband sleeping tonight with his unsuspecting wife. A little needle jab given to someone in a crowded Metro station.
Her mind raced. Her contingency plans had always assumed that the aliens were a tiny minority. She now saw that very soon they would be a majority. They? What they? She was now an alien too. So was Sean. So would be their baby. She shook her head uncontrollably. It was over. The infection had gone beyond the critical mass. The whole world would go alien. This was going to be a bigger disaster than her plan for what to do if the volcano that forms Yellowstone Park erupts. "Your biggest problem is going to be food. Suddenly the protein needs of the Earth's population will go up four or five times. What is your contingency plan for that? Food production will drop further when the neutron radiation does reach Earth. How do you plan to handle that?"