Ebola Fate, Chapter Three

Ebola Fate

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Chapter 3

February 14, 2034 12:30 PM, Monrovia, Liberia

John Merryman paced back and forth in the kitchen. "Shit, guys, this is bad."

"Thanks for the obvious observation, John," replied Teta, "I was touching him."

"We all shook his hand," Russel said, "we're all going to have to be quarantined."

"That's exactly right, sir," the medical investigator, Beyan Gbala, said from beneath his mask. The team turned to him. "I will, too, now that I'm in here. So will the paramedics who took him to hospital. We've got to contain this, and quickly. Do any of you know who he had contact with?"

John said, "Not really, no. He arrived earlier today and took a Lyft to get here."

"Okay - we'll have to get in touch with Lyft to find out who the driver was and who else has been in that car since he was. Have any of you left since he got here? Or any deliveries come? In short - has anybody else been here?"

"No - it's just been us. We were showing him our work."

"I see. Did you have any food catered?"

"No - we were planning on taking him to the new restaurant around the corner."

"That's good. The contact tree ought to be small.  We should have enough for everybody."

"Enough?"

"Vaccine."

"I thought none of the potential vaccines panned out during the last outbreak?"

"That's true, but it's not like we stopped working on it. The CDC in America has been funding lots of research to come up with a vaccine so that when Ebola showed up again, we could contain it more quickly. We've got one that just came out of trials. It's perfectly safe for humans, and has proven 100% effective in chimpanzees."

"Mr Gbala, you really seem to know what to do."

He did know precisely what to do: trace contacts, get everybody vaccinated. He was a young student during the last outbreak, and had devoted his life to learning how to fight Ebola when it returned. He was the foremost expert in Liberia. There was a short window for vaccination after exposure - maybe 24 hours, at least, there was when dealing with chimpanzees. They hadn't exactly tested humans as thoroughly as they could if it weren't for ethical standards. They couldn't very well touch a human with something infected and then give him the vaccine. Hell, they couldn't touch a human with an infected item after they'd given him the vaccine. The truth was, even though it had proven 100% effective in chimpanzees, they had no idea if it would work in humans, regardless of the 24 hour window.

Still, it was the best shot to contain this thing, so that's what he set out to do.

"Okay - I need you all to stay here. Don't order out for food, don't so much as step outside. Your building is on a closed sewage system?"While Liberia was joining the first world, it still had some third-world throw backs, like open sewage in certain areas.

"Yes, the building's only 5 years old, and it was built to code."

"Good. That means if you need to go to the bathroom, you can use the toilets here. The treatment plant ought to kill any virus particles you might... excrete."

"I'll be in touch."

February 14, 2034 12:45 PM, Monrovia, Liberia

"God Damn IT!" Beyan shouted as he bounced from page to page on Lyft's site, looking for contact information. They had a "contact support" form where you could type in stuff, but he really needed to speak to a human. He put his phone number in the form, along with a curt message, "One of your drivers has been exposed to Ebola. I am the chief medical investigator in Liberia. CALL ME IMMEDIATELY." Of course, he didn't get an immediate response, so he kept hopping around their site looking for a number that he could call. Aha! There's one: press inquiries.  This was not quite a press inquiry, but hopefully they would forgive him.

"Thank you for calling Lyft's press department. You have reached us outside of our normal operating hours. Please call back between 9:00 and 5:00, Monday through Friday."

"MOTHER FUCKER!" He couldn't even leave a message.

Okay... What time was it in San Francisco right now? 4:45 am. That meant they wouldn't be answering the phones for 4 damn hours. How many rides could this guy give if he was just starting his shift when he picked up Mr Stevens? What a cluster fuck.

"I wonder how many Lyft drivers there are?"

He closed the browser on his phone, and opened the Lyft app. He was pleased to see that there were only about two dozen cars visible on the map. He figured the fastest way to talk to a Lyft representative would be to hire a Lyft. So he ordered a ride from Merryman Labs to the airport.

February 14, 2034 12:52 PM, Monrovia, Liberia

"Mr Gbala?"

"Yes. I'm terribly sorry to do this to you, but I don't actually need a ride."

"No problem - I get paid either way. But if you don't need a ride, why'd you call me out here? You're not going to shoot me or something, eh?"

"Ha! Quite the opposite, sir. No, please don't get out - I'm wearing this mask for a different reason, to protect you."

"To protect me? From... what, exactly?"

"Did you give a ride to a Lane Stevens today?"

"Uh - let me check. Where would I have dropped him off?"

"Here."

"Oh, then definitely not."

"Do you have any way to contact the other Lyft drivers in the city?"

"Yeah, actually - we've got a chat system. Why?"

"I need you to ask whoever gave him a ride to Merryman Labs to come back immediately."

"I can do that, but why?"

"Lane Stevens is in critical condition at hospital."

"Hospital? With what?"

"It's confidential. I cannot divulge what he has for privacy reasons."

"Okay. I've asked if anybody remembers that trip. Should I stick around?"

"Would you mind waiting until we get confirmation that somebody's coming? I couldn't get in touch with Lyft headquarters."

"Ha! Tell me about it."

They sat in awkward silence, Beyan Gbala on the curb, tapping his foot impatiently, and the Lyft driver reading the chat room commentary.

February 14, 2034 12:58 PM, Monrovia, Liberia

"Hey, Mr Gbala! Looks like it was Dorley. He says he'll be here in 10 minutes, once he drops off his current fare."

"Has he picked them up?"

"I don't know."

"Tell him that if he's picked them up, he cannot drop them off, and must bring them here. If he hasn't, he cannot pick them up."

"That's a really weird..."

"TELL HIM NOW! IT'S LIFE OR DEATH!"

"Okay, okay."

"Better yet, do you have his number?"

"Yeah - I'm calling him now."

"Thank you."

February 14, 2034 1:22 PM Monrovia, Liberia

"Dorley?"

"What the fuck was so important that I couldn't even drop my passengers off? They're going to miss their flight, you know."

"Thank God."

"What's this all about, then?"

"There's no easy way to say this. You've been exposed to Ebola. The man you brought here earlier - he collapsed shortly after he arrived, bleeding from the eyes and mouth. Severe headache and abdominal cramps. Did you stop at any markets? Maybe he picked up some bush meat?"

"No - it was from the airport straight to here."

Jesus. Where did he pick up Ebola? Another passenger on the flight? Maybe somebody else had contaminated Dorley's car?  He would have to test the plane, the airport, the car. "Do you mind if I talk to your fare?"

He explained to the couple that they not only could not leave, but would have to be quarantined with Dorley and the people inside the office until they'd been vaccinated. The Merryman Labs folks had been kind enough to offer their space as a makeshift quarantine facility.

"Dorley, we're somewhat fortunate. We've got to trace all contacts that Mr Stevens had, and that your car has had, and we have to do so immediately. We need to get all of those people here, now, so they can all be vaccinated.

"I can look through the history in the Lyft app, and call all of them."

"That'd be fantastic. I've got some other aspects of this to attend to."

"Should I order them lyfts to get them here?"

"Hmm - would you mind picking them up?"

February 14, 2034 1:28 PM Monrovia, Liberia

"The plane hasn't left?" Finally, some good luck. "Good! Ground that fucker. I'm texting a colleague - he's going to come test the plane, the baggage area, and random spots around the airport." Ebola test strips were invented toward the tail end of the 2014 outbreak, and over the past twenty years, had become widely available in West Africa. So much so, that the company that was making them put itself out of business five years ago. Every hospital and medical agency in West Africa had thousands of strips.  There were still stacks for sale at corner drug stores. The strips were supposed to have a ten year shelf life, so the timing of this case was at least fortuitous with respect to the strips' expiration date, even if it wasn't soon enough to keep their manufacturer afloat.

Dorley had left 4 minutes ago to pick up the first two passengers. The emergency team was on the way with 50 doses of the vaccine. The police were on their way, too, just in case somebody tried to break quarantine. Testing was going to start at the airport within a few minutes. Beyan Gbala had done everything he could do right now.

He called his wife, Islah. "Honey, it's the nightmare I've been preparing for. I'm okay, I think. I haven't had any direct contact with any of the patients." As he looked at her face on his phone's screen, he could see her tearing up, trembling with fear. "Islah, try to not worry. We're rounding up all of Mr Steven's contacts, including anybody who rode in the Lyft. All of us will get vaccinated, and I'm quite sure we'll all be fine."

Chapter Four >>