Pocket Apocalypse
Page 25
Some people laughed nervously. I didn’t. I was doing the math in my head.
Four members of the Society had been bitten. Fifteen members of the general populace had been bitten. What about kangaroos? What about sheep? What about the cryptid population of the area? If it was mammalian, it was at risk . . . and just like that, I realized what had been bothering me about the crowd. The people here were black, white, Asian, Indian, and Pacific Islander; they were men and women, young and old; there was even one man about my age in a wheelchair, with the defined upper body of a weightlifter and the scowl of an angry Norse God. And they all had one thing in common.
They were all human.
Trying not to look like I was ignoring Riley, who was now talking about population density in the Queensland area, I leaned toward Shelby and murmured, “Does the Thirty-Six Society have any cryptids in its active membership?”
“What? No.” She was startled enough that she forgot to lower her voice. Several people turned toward us and glared, including her mother. Shelby grimaced, mouthing, “Sorry,” before whispering, “No, we’re all human. We don’t have that many cryptids living in Australia. Not of the sort that would be interested in conservation activities, I mean. Plenty of bunyip and the like, but bunyip aren’t big into doing their civic duty, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I agreed grimly. Twisting back around to face Riley, I raised my hand.
“—which is why it’s essential that we—yeah?” Riley stopped mid-sentence, frowning at the unthinkable sight of someone not holding their questions until the end. He recovered quickly, sliding smoothly into a new phrase. “Everyone, if you weren’t already aware, we have a distinguished visitor from the United States with us tonight. My daughter, Shelby Tanner, who will one day be taking my place at this podium, has brought her associate Dr. Alexander Price, of the ex-Covenant Prices, to advise us on our werewolf issues.” He stressed the word “Covenant” a little harder than I liked.
“He can advise himself back onto the plane!” someone shouted. Laughter followed. I managed not to cringe. That, right there, was why I didn’t like the word “Covenant” being bandied around like it was somehow relevant to who I was and the choices I’d made with my life.
Instead of rising to the bait, I swallowed my pride and stood, keeping my hands in view the whole time. I already knew the crowd was armed. There was no point in antagonizing them. “Mr. Tanner, you seem to be laboring under some misconceptions about the lycanthropy-w virus, which is the cause of, ah, werewolfism.”
“Am I, now?” Riley turned to the crowd and rolled his eyes. More laughter—but this wasn’t as universal, I noted. Whatever was causing him to showboat against me, he had his supporters. I’d expected that. At the same time, these people were conservationists, if not scientists. They understood that sometimes you needed to listen to your visiting experts, even if you didn’t want them there. “You going to come up here and school me on virology, then? I didn’t know you were an epidemiologist.”
“I’m not,” I said. “I’m a cryptozoologist, which includes the study of some cryptid-specific diseases, and viruses, like the lycanthropy family, which don’t behave in a manner consistent with current scientific thinking. I can’t tell you how to make a vaccine or an anti-serum for most things. I can’t tell you how lycanthropy works, or why it does the things it does. I can tell you how to deal with it.”
Riley frowned. There was something in his eyes that I didn’t like: something that warned me I was on the verge of making an enemy I couldn’t afford. Not now, when I was on his home ground, and not ever, if I was intending to continue associating with his daughter. “So you think we’re doing this wrong? Please, come up here and enlighten us.”
“Thank you, sir, I would be delighted to do just that,” I said, and stood. If he was going to offer me the podium, I was going to take it. Accepting his implicit challenge might make him my enemy, but I didn’t have a choice. Saving these people from what could end very, very badly was more important than what I did or didn’t want on a personal level.
“You sure, son?” he asked, voice suddenly low and dangerous. I was being offered one last warning, and it couldn’t have been clearer if it had been surrounded by flashing lights and caution tape. I was challenging his authority. I could never take it away from him—I was a stranger, I was a foreigner, and most damning of all, I was a Price—but I could dent it enough to open that door for someone else. But again, I didn’t have a choice. He had created this situation to force me to prove myself, and unfortunately for both of us, I couldn’t afford to avoid this confrontation. There was just too much at stake.
“I suppose I am, sir,” I said.
Riley frowned. Then, slowly, he smiled. “I guess you’ve got some balls on you after all. Everyone, let’s give a warm Thirty-Six Society welcome to Dr. Alexander Price.” He stepped away from the microphone.
The applause that followed me to the podium was grudging, but it was there, and that was more than I’d expected. I cleared my throat and leaned into the microphone. “I usually go by ‘Alex,’” I said.
You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed.
Right. “I’m glad to be here, to assist you with this situation. Lycanthropy-w is a nasty virus. It’s similar to rabies in that there’s no cure. There are some treatments that can be effective if delivered immediately after someone is bitten.”
Crickets. I cleared my throat and continued, “Since all known treatments can be fatal, they aren’t typically delivered unless the individual in question is willing to provide informed consent.” Which left the civilians out. It’s hard to consent to something you don’t believe in. “On the plus side, since they’re made of things that are poisonous to werewolves, they can also be used to coat bladed weapons in the absence of bullets.”
Riley folded his arms. His smile was long gone, like it had never been there at all. I couldn’t tell if he was mercurial as hell, or if he just hated me on general principle. Either way, what fun. “You must think we don’t know how to read a book here in Australia. We got all that out of the reference materials, and you’re not telling us anything we don’t know.”
“How old are your reference materials?”
Four members of the Society had been bitten. Fifteen members of the general populace had been bitten. What about kangaroos? What about sheep? What about the cryptid population of the area? If it was mammalian, it was at risk . . . and just like that, I realized what had been bothering me about the crowd. The people here were black, white, Asian, Indian, and Pacific Islander; they were men and women, young and old; there was even one man about my age in a wheelchair, with the defined upper body of a weightlifter and the scowl of an angry Norse God. And they all had one thing in common.
They were all human.
Trying not to look like I was ignoring Riley, who was now talking about population density in the Queensland area, I leaned toward Shelby and murmured, “Does the Thirty-Six Society have any cryptids in its active membership?”
“What? No.” She was startled enough that she forgot to lower her voice. Several people turned toward us and glared, including her mother. Shelby grimaced, mouthing, “Sorry,” before whispering, “No, we’re all human. We don’t have that many cryptids living in Australia. Not of the sort that would be interested in conservation activities, I mean. Plenty of bunyip and the like, but bunyip aren’t big into doing their civic duty, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I agreed grimly. Twisting back around to face Riley, I raised my hand.
“—which is why it’s essential that we—yeah?” Riley stopped mid-sentence, frowning at the unthinkable sight of someone not holding their questions until the end. He recovered quickly, sliding smoothly into a new phrase. “Everyone, if you weren’t already aware, we have a distinguished visitor from the United States with us tonight. My daughter, Shelby Tanner, who will one day be taking my place at this podium, has brought her associate Dr. Alexander Price, of the ex-Covenant Prices, to advise us on our werewolf issues.” He stressed the word “Covenant” a little harder than I liked.
“He can advise himself back onto the plane!” someone shouted. Laughter followed. I managed not to cringe. That, right there, was why I didn’t like the word “Covenant” being bandied around like it was somehow relevant to who I was and the choices I’d made with my life.
Instead of rising to the bait, I swallowed my pride and stood, keeping my hands in view the whole time. I already knew the crowd was armed. There was no point in antagonizing them. “Mr. Tanner, you seem to be laboring under some misconceptions about the lycanthropy-w virus, which is the cause of, ah, werewolfism.”
“Am I, now?” Riley turned to the crowd and rolled his eyes. More laughter—but this wasn’t as universal, I noted. Whatever was causing him to showboat against me, he had his supporters. I’d expected that. At the same time, these people were conservationists, if not scientists. They understood that sometimes you needed to listen to your visiting experts, even if you didn’t want them there. “You going to come up here and school me on virology, then? I didn’t know you were an epidemiologist.”
“I’m not,” I said. “I’m a cryptozoologist, which includes the study of some cryptid-specific diseases, and viruses, like the lycanthropy family, which don’t behave in a manner consistent with current scientific thinking. I can’t tell you how to make a vaccine or an anti-serum for most things. I can’t tell you how lycanthropy works, or why it does the things it does. I can tell you how to deal with it.”
Riley frowned. There was something in his eyes that I didn’t like: something that warned me I was on the verge of making an enemy I couldn’t afford. Not now, when I was on his home ground, and not ever, if I was intending to continue associating with his daughter. “So you think we’re doing this wrong? Please, come up here and enlighten us.”
“Thank you, sir, I would be delighted to do just that,” I said, and stood. If he was going to offer me the podium, I was going to take it. Accepting his implicit challenge might make him my enemy, but I didn’t have a choice. Saving these people from what could end very, very badly was more important than what I did or didn’t want on a personal level.
“You sure, son?” he asked, voice suddenly low and dangerous. I was being offered one last warning, and it couldn’t have been clearer if it had been surrounded by flashing lights and caution tape. I was challenging his authority. I could never take it away from him—I was a stranger, I was a foreigner, and most damning of all, I was a Price—but I could dent it enough to open that door for someone else. But again, I didn’t have a choice. He had created this situation to force me to prove myself, and unfortunately for both of us, I couldn’t afford to avoid this confrontation. There was just too much at stake.
“I suppose I am, sir,” I said.
Riley frowned. Then, slowly, he smiled. “I guess you’ve got some balls on you after all. Everyone, let’s give a warm Thirty-Six Society welcome to Dr. Alexander Price.” He stepped away from the microphone.
The applause that followed me to the podium was grudging, but it was there, and that was more than I’d expected. I cleared my throat and leaned into the microphone. “I usually go by ‘Alex,’” I said.
You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed.
Right. “I’m glad to be here, to assist you with this situation. Lycanthropy-w is a nasty virus. It’s similar to rabies in that there’s no cure. There are some treatments that can be effective if delivered immediately after someone is bitten.”
Crickets. I cleared my throat and continued, “Since all known treatments can be fatal, they aren’t typically delivered unless the individual in question is willing to provide informed consent.” Which left the civilians out. It’s hard to consent to something you don’t believe in. “On the plus side, since they’re made of things that are poisonous to werewolves, they can also be used to coat bladed weapons in the absence of bullets.”
Riley folded his arms. His smile was long gone, like it had never been there at all. I couldn’t tell if he was mercurial as hell, or if he just hated me on general principle. Either way, what fun. “You must think we don’t know how to read a book here in Australia. We got all that out of the reference materials, and you’re not telling us anything we don’t know.”
“How old are your reference materials?”
