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〃Go find them？〃 a voice scoffed。 Miranda faced around。 It was the head of the Immortality lab。 She was still getting used to the division title； though it fit perfectly。 Most viruses destroyed their host cells once they were finished using it as a virus factory。 Corfu was different。 It instructed host cells to keep dividing without ever dying； hence 〃immortality。〃 One more mystery； one more lab。 〃They're on the far side of the planet；〃 the lab chief went on。 〃We might as well be looking at pictures sent back from Mars。 We can't get across our own country； much less around the world。〃
〃But any one of these survivors could be our answer；〃 Miranda retorted。 〃They could be our future。〃
〃In case you've forgotten； the U。S。 Navy got swallowed looking for survivors like these。〃 The scientists turned to Cavendish at the far end of the table； a frail stem with burning eyes。 〃Our armadas have disappeared。 Our military assets have dwindled。 Our wings are gone。〃
Cavendish lifted a hand at the satellite image on screen。 〃Even our eyes are failing。 We're getting information from satellites that are falling to earth。 Do you understand； Miranda？ We can no longer project ourselves into the world。 We've lost the capability。 We don't own the night。 We don't own the day。 It takes a major armed expedition just to reach into Albuquerque for a few hours。 Calcutta！〃 he snorted。 The luminous green figure on screen fed another stick into his little fire。 〃All this proves is that there's other life in the universe； no more； no less。〃
Miranda felt the others looking at her。 Once more； she was the sole voice of dissent； or optimism； or whatever she was。 For an instant； she resented their cowardice。 But she understood it； too。 They had families； many of them。 They were mortal； and Cavendish was ruthless。 Their job was science； not martyrdom。 〃So we give up； is that it？〃 she snapped。
〃We work with what we have；〃 Cavendish said。 〃And when the time es； we retreat to the WIPP sanctuary。 Just as your father planned。 This is a distraction。 It would give people false hope。〃
When；Miranda fumed；not if。 Retreat。 To the sanctuary。 Into her father's underworld。 She glanced around； trying to measure their discouragement and fear。 These days they believed in asylum more than they believed in the cure。。。and it wasn't even built。 The subterranean sanctuary was still under construction。 Originally designed to be a graveyard for nuclear waste； the Waste Isolation Pilot Plant…WIPP…was being converted into a vast hideaway for the entire populace of Los Alamos。 Twelve stories of chambers and floors were being carved from a salt dome two thousand feet beneath the desert bordering Texas。 It would be equipped with lab facilities。 Research would continue while they sheltered beneath the virus world。 Someday； perhaps decades from now； they were supposed to emerge with their cure。
But to Miranda and a small contingent of others； the WIPP sanctuary was a terrible mistake。 There was no way its labs could match what they already had at Los Alamos。 The quarters would be pinched and sunless； an eternal night。 Also； it would be vulnerable to even a single strand of the virus。 In such close quarters； the plague could devour them in a single bite。 Anyway； it was wrong to be talking about retreat。 〃We have a mission；〃 she protested。
〃We have to keep our hopes realistic；〃 Cavendish said。 〃Some things are possible； Miranda。 Some things are not。〃
Just then Maples's phone beeped。 He took the call； then looked around at them。 〃That was the latest count。 We're up to thirty…nine survivor sightings。〃
〃Worldwide？〃 It was the blonde woman from Johannesburg。 〃My god； is that all？ Thirty…nine people。。。where there were once billions？〃
The woman's country had been killed off long ago。 Miranda understood that about her。 Defeatism came naturally to her； though that didn't fully explain her tone of ridicule。 She； and probably most of the others in the room； were cueing off of Cavendish； for now displaying their allegiance。 Then Miranda saw the woman exchange an admiring glance； and it was not with Cavendish； but with his silent clone； stationed behind the wheelchair。 So； thought Miranda； the rumors were true。 The clone had bedded her； too。But who was he？
〃There will be more than thirty…nine；〃 Miranda doggedly pronounced。
〃A few hundred？〃 the woman sniffed。
〃One in a million； or two million； or ten million；〃 said Miranda。 〃It's better than nothing。〃
〃Oh； but you see you're only talking about life。〃 The woman pointed at the thermal caveman squatting among the ruins of Calcutta。 〃If that is our future； then civilization is finished。〃
〃No；〃 said Miranda。 〃Not as long as Los Alamos is still alive。〃 Her defiance was beginning to sound like cheerleading to her； and she was desperately making it up as she went along。 But someone had to say something。 〃We are a city on a hill；〃 she declared。 〃A city of light。〃
Where had that e from； city of light？They were all looking at her。 She wanted to believe their silence was contemplative； but knew they were embarrassed for her。 Miranda's cheeks were hot。 〃If we can't go to find the survivors；〃 she finished； 〃then maybe they will e to us。 Someday。〃
〃A good swimmer； is he？〃 joked Cavendish。Touché。 The oceans were once again vast barriers。
〃There will be survivors in America； too；〃 Miranda stated。 She could feel herself swaying in the breeze； far； far out on a limb of her own making。 〃Once the virus has passed through； they'll appear。〃
〃Like moths； would that be？〃 said Cavendish。 〃To the light？〃
〃I won't quit；〃 Miranda said。
It was the wrong thing to say。 They thought she was accusing them。 She was； but not to drive them away。 To inspire them。With insults？ She sighed。 She was no good at this。 Their eyes glazed。 When she looked； Cavendish was beaming at her。
21
Resurrection
AUGUST 11
It had always been deathly still on her visits before。 But tonight； five stories deep； the Orphanage sounded like the full moon rising； every wild throat up and screaming。 As she stormed along the hallway； Miranda could feel the clones' frenzy vibrating through the steel walls。 Her anger rose。
They howled like banshees。 Some hurled themselves against the stainless steel doors。 Others hid in corners or under their beds。 A wild…eyed face hammered against the narrow Plexiglas。 Another window was flecked with blood。
Two guards waited at the far end by a locked door。 The plastic slider read 01…01N。 Clone One。 Version One。 Neandertal。
〃What happened？〃 she demanded。
〃Nathan Lee went in；〃 the big weightlifter volunteered。 〃He sat down。 The kid blew up。 Then the rest of them went off。〃
Miranda peered through the three…inch window。 The view was blurry and brown。 Her cell was a nightmare of shit walls and voodoo handprints。 The child was caked with her own feces。 But tonight there was blood on the girl's hands。 Blood on the walls。 To her relief it was Nathan Lee's blood； not the child's。 He sat at her feet。 She had all but lost her voice screaming。 It sounded like rust being scraped from the walls。
〃What has he done to her？〃
〃Nothing。 He went in。 He sat down。 That's all。〃
That was everything。 The girl had