The telephone rang for the twelfth time. A hand reached out slowly and lifted the receiver. A voice answered groggily, "Hello?"
The voice on the other end of the line said, "I certainly hope this as Dr. Brian Taft, because I would hate too wake anyone else up at this hour."
"Oh, but you don't mind waking me up, is that it? Do you have any idea what time is? It's three in the morning. What do you want?"
"I know it's early, but I have a problem that's right in your specialty. If you hurry, you can be in Des Moines by noon."
"Is this Cassian? I should have known. I'm sorry to disappoint you, Dr. Cassian, but I can't make it. I have a speaking engagement this afternoon in San Francisco."
"Not any more, Dr. Taft. Your speaking engagement has been postponed until tomorrow. You have a plane ticket waiting for you. If you hurry, you can make the flight, and be here by noon. Then you can fly back to San Francisco in time for your presentation tomorrow."
"Cassian, you're completely heartless."
"Not at all, Dr. Taft. I have your career in mind. I want you to make that convention and give your presentation. See you at noon." With that, Cassian hung up the phone.
Taft grumbled all the way to the airport.
Later that day, in Des Moines, Iowa, Daniel Cassian looked up as he heard the door swing open. "Ah, Dr. Taft. I see your flight was on time. It looks like you didn't keep Mr. Hailey waiting at the airport."
Taft still looked upset. "Well, what was so important that you had to disrupt my entire week?"
"Right over here, Dr. Taft,"Cassian said as he led the way. "I have a very interesting brain scan for you to look at."
Taft studied the scan, then he said, "Are you sure this is a good scan?"
"We ran it twice." The reply came from Kimberly Shiroma.
"I can't believe it!" Was Taft's response. "The entire frontal lobe area is completely inactive. This person must suffer from multiple neurological disorders!"
Edward Marcase took a step forward. "Not 'this person', but over 50 people as of this morning, and how many others there are going to be, we don't know. As for the neurological disorders, that's why Cassian called you."
"Yes," Cassian explained, "I have full confidence in my team, but we all bow to your expertise in the neurological field."
Kimberly broke in. "As far as neurological symptoms are concerned, all the patients thus far suffer from phobias, hyperactivity, and depression. From reading the DSM- IV, we suspect the patients do have many other disorders, as well."
Marcase added few details: "Not only that, but some of the cases were suicides. Others were brought to our attention after they were arrested by the police for various crimes, including robbery and arson."
Taft let out a low whistle, and said, "From the looks of that brain scan, none of that surprises me. I have to admit, Dr. Cassian, this case intrigues me. I almost hate to say this, but for once I might actually enjoy working with you."
Cassian shook his finger at Taft. "Ah, but Dr. Taft, you won't be working on this case. You have a plane to catch, remember? You have a presentation to deliver tomorrow morning in San Francisco."
"But Cassian!" Taft erupted, "you can't do this! This case fascinates me! I can't leave now! You're totally heartless!"
"Why, Dr. Taft, like I said this morning, I'm concerned about your career. That's why I rescheduled your presentation for tomorrow, and arranged plane tickets so you can attend the rest of the conference, give your presentation, and be back here in three days, because we might still need you. In fact, I'll be surprised if we don't."
"Could I examine a patient before I go?"
"By all means. Dr. Marcase, take Dr. Taft to the examination room. I'll have a patient sent in. Mr. Hailey, please help escort the patient in. I wouldn't want to have any problems."
A few minutes later, in the exam room, Taft shook his head. He turned to Marcase. "I've never seen such elevated levels of tics and hyperactivity, and the violence, crime and suicides…it's not uncommon to see such things elevated in people with deficiencies in the frontal lobes. I'd love to see some lab work showing the serotonin and dopamine levels in these patients."
"While then," said Marcase, "let's go talk to Kimberly before you have to go. Michael, we're done with this patient. See that he gets back to the wherever you got him from."
They walked down the hall to where Dr. Shiroma was studying specimens. "Kimberly, could you show Dr. Taft the lab results on the blood samples?" asked Marcase.
"Right here, Brian," she said, handing him the results.
Taft studied the papers for a moment, then exclaimed:" Like everything else about this case, this is unbelievable! The levels of serotonin and dopamine are quite high, yet with the inactivity in the federal lobe of these patients, the neurotransmitters must not be getting into the frontal lobe. If dopamine is blocked from the frontal lobe, the person probably also has ADHD, and the dopamine must really be stimulating the brain stem, resulting in the severe tics we observed. I see that the norepinephrine levels are also quite high, and I suspect that tests for other neurotransmitters will also show abnormalities. Maybe I just won't show up for that presentation."
Cassian stuck his head around the corner. "But Dr. Taft, you will attend the conference and give your presentation. You have just about enough time to bring me up to date on your findings, then Mr. Hailey will take you back to the airport."
Taft filled Cassian in on what he had found in on his suspicions, then it was time for him to leave. "I'll see you in three days," Dr. Cassian called out as Taft and Hailey walked out the door. Then Cassian went to confer with Marcase and Shiroma.
"Cassian, I have to concede that he is brilliant when it comes to the brain," said Marcase." I can see why you went with him while Kimberly and I were in Zimbabwe."
"Yes, he's one of the best in his field, but he would never fully replace to two of you. Most of our work involves bacteria or viruses, and not neurological or psychiatric disorders "replied Cassian. "Now if he could just tone the personality down a bit. Not to change the subject, but this is getting critical. While you guys were with Taft, I got word that things are getting worse. We had some riots and some killings. The way this thing is escalating, I hate to think what things will be like three days from now when Taft gets back."
"I found one possible link in this otherwise confusing mess. Several of the patients had these tokens in their pockets. They all seem to be from the same video game arcade."
"Good work, Dr. Marcase!" replied Cassian. "I'll have Mr. Hailey check it out as soon as he gets back from the airport. In the meantime, why don't you and Kimberly get something to eat?"
Half an hour later, in a local restaurant Edward and Kimberly were being seated at a table. They had browsed their menus, and made their decisions on what to eat. They were now waiting for the waiter to return and take their order.
"What is it, Edward?" Kimberly asked.
"Nothing," Edward replied, "I just like to look at you."
"Edward, as you know, we're not dating. We have to take this real slow. I'm not completely over Allen's death yet, and we have a professional relationship to preserve."
Edward continued his intent gaze. "I know that, Kimberly. I'm content with what we have."
Kimberly smiled. "I'm happy, too, Edward. Oh, here comes our dinner."
Just then, some shots rang out. Edward pulled Kimberly under the table. The shooting continued, and there were screams. Edward looked out from under the table. There were four teenagers with guns. The police arrived. Two of the teens had been shot, and the other two taken into custody. An ambulance had arrived. Five restaurant patrons were wounded, and being assisted. Four others were lying on the floor, unmoving.
"Edward, I'm not hungry anymore."
"Me either. Let's go."
Their instinct as doctors took over, however, and they assisted the paramedics until the ambulances left.
One hour later, in a shopping mall, Michael Hailey entered the video arcade. He looked around, sizing up the clientele. He walked of to a group of teens. "Hey, where's the centipede machine?"
"What's centipede? " one of them asked him.
"Sorry, I guess it was before your time."
Nearby a small group was in a heated argument. Hailey had noticed several of them taking long drinks at the water fountain. He slowly made his way to the fountain, dumped out a water bottle he was carrying, and filled it from the fountain. About that time, one of the boys in the argument pulled a knife and stabbed another one. Hailey ran over to the group, and grabbed the boy with the knife, to restrain him. He noted that several other hands in the group held knives. He began turning in a slow circle, trying to keep as many of the boys in sight as possible. Suddenly he felt like hot lead had been injected into his abdomen, and he knew he'd been stabbed. He slid to the floor and instinctively curled up, protecting his most vital organs.
A few minutes later, the police and paramedics arrived. Hailey showed them his ID, and requested to be transported to the hospital where the bio-crisis team was working. "Call ahead to Dr. Daniel Cassian," he said, "and have him waiting to meet the ambulance when I arrive."
Meanwhile, at another restaurant, Edward and Kimberly were eating the dinner they had set out to have earlier. After the shock had subsided from the events at the previous restaurant, hunger had returned. Kimberly stirred at the food on her plate and looked at Marcase. "Edward, why is all this happening?"
"Well, like Taft explained, whatever is happening to the brains in this people, the frontal lobe area is shut down. That leaves them basically animals in human bodies. Animals with the virtually every phobia and instinct known to man…plus the powers of speech and reason, but without any of the inhibitions or conscience normal people have to. It all amounts to a very dangerous animal when let on the loose."
Marcase's cellular phone rang. "It's gotta be Cassian. Hello.....yeah, we're just finishing dinner. Okay, we'll be right there." He turned to Kimberly. "They just brought Michael into emergency in an ambulance. He'd been stabbed."
"Edward, let's get over there!"
They raced back to the hospital. It was hard to believe so much had happened in one day.
"How's Hailey?" Marcase managed between gasps for breath. He hadn't wanted to wait for the elevator, and had run up three flights of stairs.
Cassian was grim. "He's in surgery. The stab wound punctured his small intestine. We have to watch for peritonitis, but he should be fine. Unfortunately, he's out of commission for several days. He arrived clutching this." Cassian held up the water bottle. "Mr. Hailey felt this might be a very important link to what is going on. I want the water in it analyzed right away."
"Okay, Kimberly and I will get on it. We're on our way to the lab. We'll let you know as soon as we find out anything."
"You see that you do that." If anything, Cassian was even grimmer looking. "I will be standing by Mr. Hailey."
About an hour and a half later Edward left the lab to find that Cassian had nodded off to sleep in the waiting room.
"Cassian! How's Michael doing?"
Cassian jerked awake. "Oh, Edward... I mean Dr. Marcase. They say he's out of danger. The bad news is, the restaurant shooting where you and Dr. Shiroma were and the video arcade were not isolated incidents. There have been riots and looting all over town. Several people were killed tonight."
"Well, if it is any consolation, Hailey's right. There's definitely something in the water. Lots of somethings. Some of them we recognize, like one that affects the dopamine D2 receptor. Many others, we have no idea what they are, other than the fact that they have been introduced in to the water and that they obviously must also affect neurotransmitters and receptors in the brain. Someone definitely is tampering with the young people in this town, and causing them to engage in this aberrant behavior."
"But who would do this?" Cassian had gone from grim to angry. He stood up and paced around the room, pausing by the window. He gazed at the city lights for a full minute, then uttered two words: "The Dawn!"
"The Dawn?" Marcase's head jerked up. "We haven't heard a peep out of them for quite a while."
It had indeed been some time since the bio-crisis team had encountered The Dawn. It had set their plans back quite a bit when Dr. Rydell died of the Mayan bacteria, but Cassian had known they would surface again sooner or later.
Kimberly looked confused. "But why would The Dawn do something like this?" she asked.
"They have to be behind this," Cassian replied. "Think of it...doctors look for and fight viruses and bacteria. On the surface, this could pass for normal rioting and crime...that is, if such things can truly be called "normal". Think of what The Dawn could accomplish by planting this stuff in the water systems all over the world. They could sit back, then clean after this by using their normal methods, bacteria and viruses."
"I think you are right," Marcase replied. "The Dawn makes more sense as the perpetrator than anyone else I can think of."
"Tomorrow morning, we will start trying to find a way to counteract this. Meanwhile, I'm going to contact the White House, and let them know I suspect The Dawn. There will be federal agents here tomorrow morning scouring the city and checking every drinking fountain in town." Cassian was walking out of the room as he said this.
The next morning, Cassian walked into the lab and said, "Well, it's nice to see you two here bright and early. I've just met with our friends from the White House, and agents are going to work all over greater Des Moines. What have you found so far?"
Edward and Kimberly looked at each other, then Marcase began relating their findings. "We haven't found a means to counteract the substances yet, but some of the early patients are going through withdrawal and the symptoms are going away. Kimberly has determined that some of the unknown substances in the water do indeed impede the function of key receptor sites in the frontal lobe."
Kimberly filled in some details: "The compounds in the water do a thorough job. There seems to be a total blockage of neurotransmitters to the frontal lobe area. We tried several meds to increase serotonin levels or activity, but nothing reached the frontal lobes. We tried stimulants, including straight methamphetamine, but nothing got through, and there was absolutely no increase of neurotransmitter levels or activity whatsoever. At this point, the only thing we can do is restrain patients and let them wait it out."
Marcase completed the update. "Unfortunately, the total blockage of the frontal lobes has another drawback: withdrawal medications and sedatives have no effect. The patients have to endure the agonies of withdrawal in full consciousness, which is almost as cruel as administering this stuff in the first place."
Cassian's cell phone rang. He answered it. "Cassian here. No, Dr. Taft, go ahead and give your presentation this morning. Yes, plenty is happening here. No, I need you there. You are surrounded by some of the finest minds in the world in the fields of neurology and psychiatry. Pay close attention to the program, and ask some key questions. Give me a fax number, and I'll fax you some lab reports on substances found in drinking water. Find out what you can about these compounds, and get back to me. Yes, Dr. Taft, I will keep you informed. Get back to me as soon as you have any information on the compounds. No, stay right there unless I call for you to come out here. No, just stay there for now and absorb the convention. Is there a problem with the connection? Are you able to hear me say 'No'? Good-bye, Dr. Taft." Cassian broke the connection. "That's a switch…Taft begging me to let him work for me. Well, then, let's get to work!" Cassian left them in the lab and went to check on Michael Hailey.
Then Cassian received another phone call. This one was from the field agents. After taking the call, he hurried back to the lab to inform Marcase and Shiroma.
"The agents have struck gold already!" he informed them. "They found a concentrated container of the compounds set to meter small amounts into the drinking fountain at the arcade where Mr. Hailey was stabbed. They expect to find similar setups at other teenage hangouts in the city. Agents of The Dawn have been positively identified from file photos our people are showing around town. This thing may be even bigger than we thought. So, now, we work, and we wait for more reports from the field, and from Dr. Taft. Oh, by the way, Mr. Hailey is completely out of danger this morning, but he will be sore for a while. He is out of commission for field work for about a month."
By lunchtime, several more installations by The Dawn had been located and removed from drinking fountains. Unfortunately, however, several more cases of violence had been reported, and several new patients had been brought to the hospital. At the present rate, they would soon be out of room. Cassian went to confer with the federal agents, leaving Marcase and Shiroma to continue monitoring patients and searching for something to counteract the agents introduce to the drinking water. It was a long afternoon with no new developments.
That evening at dinner, the trio of Drs. Cassian, Marcase, and Shiroma were all haggard looking. The lack of sleep, compounded by the frustration of not finding a countermeasure, as well as the pain of watching the suffering of withdrawal, was taking its toll. The absence of Michael Hailey also contributed to the gloom.
"Well," began Cassian, "I managed one more time to persuade Dr. Taft to attend the rest of the conference. He was quite excited by the data I faxed him. Many of those compounds are similar to some of the experimental medications being developed to combat psychiatric disorders. My ace-in-the-hole was to remind him that Oliver Sacks was speaking tomorrow."
"Now, that's a familiar name!" exclaimed Kimberly. "Didn't he do some groundbreaking research involving the dopamine pathways?"
"Yeah," Marcase broke in, "he took patients suffering from Parkinson's, gave them dopamine, and brought them from statues to normal behavior and beyond into hyperactivity and tics."
"You're absolutely right," Cassian continued. "It's thoroughly written up in his book, Awakenings. I certainly want Dr. Taft to pay close attention to Dr. Sacks tomorrow, and possibly ask him some questions...without giving too much away, of course."
"Just how much does Taft know, that he could give away?"
"Not that much, Dr. Marcase. He knows about the compounds, of course, and the symptoms they cause, but nothing about The Dawn. Not being an official member of the team, he doesn't have the necessary security clearance. Now, how did your afternoon go?"
Edward and Kimberly exchanged a glance, then Marcase spoke up. "Not too well. Nothing new to relate. But, Michael did grin when I cracked a joke when I looked in on him a little while ago."
"Well, it is nice that at least one thing good happened today...in addition to all the chemical dispensers being removed from the drinking fountains."
They finished dinner in relative silence then called it a day.
The next morning, in the lab, Cassian's spirits were noticeably lifted from the night before. "Well, doctors, any brainstorms during the night, or early morning discoveries?"
"No, nothing new to report." The pair did not share Cassian's mood."
"Well, I have some news," Cassian continued. " I got a call late last night that The Dawn is on the run. We managed to catch up with them, but they got one step ahead, and cleared out before the federal agents closed in for the catch. All they found at the temporary headquarters was an office hastily vacated. Just a few insignificant notes were left behind, but enough fingerprints to definitely identify key agents of The Dawn. Their operation here has been thwarted, and now that they know we are on to this, if they follow their pattern, this tactic won't be tried again."
"Well, that's one thing we can be thankful for," Marcase replied. "However, we still seem to be up against a brick wall on finding a solution to the compounds, other than letting the patients suffer through withdrawal."
"But at least we've stopped the spread, and we can be thankful for that...in addition to the fact that I have yet to hear from Dr. Taft today." Cassian almost smiled. "Why don't we go see how Mr. Hailey is doing this morning?"
"That won't be necessary." The voice came from the doorway. The trio turned around to see Michael guiding a wheelchair into the lab.
"Michael! What are you doing out of bed?" Kimberly almost shouted at him.
"It seems like I have been in bed for a week! Besides, the doctors told me I could be up in a sitting position. I asked them about a wheelchair, and they said it was okay, as long as I notify them immediately of any pain. I figured I could sit with the patients going through withdrawal, and help talk them through it."
"Good idea, Michael," Edward replied. " There doesn't seem to be enough of Kimberly and me to go around. One of us will check in on you every 20 minutes or so, and see what we can do to help."
They went to work. Michael made it through most of the day, going back to his hospital room around three o'clock. At six o'clock, Cassian coaxed Edward and Kimberly to break for dinner.
"Well," Cassian began, "Dr. Taft called a few minutes ago. He will be here first thing in the morning."
"We could use him, " Edward replied. "Kimberly and I aren't experts in his field, but from what we can tell, that compound shuts down the entire dopamine and serotonin pathways. We've isolated a few of them, but we're just scratching the surface."
"I had really hoped we could solve it ourselves," Cassian continued, "but at this point, we'll have to let Dr. Taft find the answers we are looking for."
Kimberly broke into the discussion. "Most of the early patients are over the worst of withdrawal. At the present rate, all the patients should be manageable within a week. Not completely over it, but manageable."
"That's encouraging," Cassian replied. "No real breakthroughs, but at least no new bad news. I'll see you in the morning."
The next morning, Marcase came into the lab, coffee mug in hand. He stopped short…someone was bent over a microscope, looking at the slides from the work he had been doing the day before. "I beg your pardon," he said, mild irritation in showing in his voice.
The face that turned around belonged to Dr. Taft. "Oh, hi, Edward." he said, "These specimens you prepared are great! With all I picked up at the conference, and the preliminary analysis you guys sent that I have already practically memorized, and now these samples, I think we can solve this thing in no time!"
"That won't be necessary," Cassian said, as he and Kimberly came through the door. "My team is just about ready to leave Des Moines."
Taft's face became a definite pout. "But you can't do this!" he screamed. "I just got here!"
"Oh, but I can," Cassian shot back. "The final patients infected are now halfway through withdrawal, and the people responsible for this are no longer a factor in this particular case. We have a very unusual outbreak in the New England area, and my team is desperately needed there. I have already arranged plane tickets, and I will be briefing my team en route."
Taft's pouting look intensified. "But all this data…what will become of it?"
"Why, Dr. Taft, you will continue to analyze this data for me."
Taft's countenance brightened considerably. "That's great! There is information here that could wipe mental illness off the face of the earth! Why, this is the stuff Nobels are made of!"
Cassian raised his hand to silence Taft. "No, Dr. Taft, there will be no Nobel Prize from this data. Not for some time, any way. You will analyze it, and report directly to me. I will let you know what you can publish, and when. The findings of this data are of utmost importance to national security. If you find any major breakthroughs, the public will eventually benefit, but on our time table, not yours."
The pout returned. "Cassian, you are totally heartless!"
"Why, Dr. Taft, I am surprised at you," Cassian replied. "I'm not heartless. I'm concerned for the security of my team, and the future of the human race."