Kels nods. "I understand your concern. Professor, what should we be doing about it then?"

"I think we need to get back to basics, to way things were supposed to be from the beginning. We were given this great, garden paradise as a gift. We were told to populate it, name it, care for it. And, what have we done? Everything we possibly can to destroy it."

"Are you referring to the biblical Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden myth?"

The words are barely out of her mouth when the professor’s face clouds over in anger. His eyebrows come together and he looks long and hard at Kelsey, trying to decide what to do with her. In the past, heathens were stoned. I’m glad they’re on the porch and not near any handy rocks.

"The Garden of Eden was no myth, Miss Stanton, despite the current vogue of discrediting the Lord’s word."

Kelsey remains silent, not rising to the provocation, nor providing any of her own.

After a long moment, he continues. "I’d like to return to your original question: what should we be doing about the current disaster we’re faced with? I think we need to look back again to the very beginning and follow the pattern we’re given. When the original Caretakers broke the rules, they were banished."

Where are we gonna send them, fella, the moon?

"That seems a bit extreme, Professor."

He bristles at her suggestion. "How is that extreme? If you have cancer, what do you do? Sit around and tolerate its presence in your body? No, you cut it out. You get rid of the disease before it kills you."

"So what is the cancer that you would expunge from today’s modernized and industrialized society?"

"The modern and industrial society is the cancer."

Oh boy. Houston, we have a problem. Seems the professor is one can short of a six pack. He ain’t the coldest beer in the fridge. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Not the brightest … ah, hell, I get my own point.

Personally, I’ve grown kinda fond of electricity, running water and modern medicine. Not to mention motorcycles. I really like my Harley. I gotta get Kels to take a fun ride with me, not just one from the clink.

Focus, Harper. You got a nut flake sitting on the porch by the woman your Mama invited into the kitchen.

"So, Professor, are you suggesting that we need to reduce the population?"

"Exactly. Or the earth herself will do it for us, with a vengeance. Drastic measures need to be taken to protect the earth from its attackers."

Kelsey takes a deep breath and settles back in the chair she’s sitting on. She wants to go in for the jugular, but is also mindful that this guy may have a handy supply of anthrax at his disposal. "Are you suggesting that certain people are the primary attackers? Isn’t that a little harsh of an assessment?"

"Hardly!" he scoffs. "Three Mile Island, Chernobyl, the Exxon Valdez, the recent radiation leak in Japan, the list goes on and on. All of those were caused by mankind and our precious, industrial, modern society. Harsh? We poison and pollute and destroy. Surely you would agree that is an attack on the earth?" He doesn’t wait for her to respond. "The reason why you came to visit me today is indicative of our attack on the planet. We’ve recently found an anthrax strain in cattle which had previously only been found in sheep. These things don’t happen accidentally, in a vacuum. Someone caused it."

"Are you suggesting that we may be facing a major epidemic, rather like the Black Plague in Europe in the 14th century?"

He shrugs, crosses his legs. "It wouldn’t be entirely unexpected."

No, I bet it wouldn’t be to you. Man, I owe Henry an apology for thinking he was over-reacting to this guy.

"So, Professor, you believe some illness or plague or event will occur in the near future to reduce the human population significantly?"

"I would say it’s pretty much a given at this point." His words are spoken softly, with assurance. This is a man with a plan.

"Do you think there are people or organizations out there who are willing to ‘help’ this process along?"

"Again, from the beginning of time, there have always been Caretakers. I think it’s time for these gardeners to start pruning before the whole garden is lost. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my work." The professor stands up to his full height and smoothes out his jeans. He unclips the mike pack and sets it down on the chair.

Yeah, and we need to get the hell out of here and get some of that anthrax vaccine. Jesus. This is one scary son-of-a-bitch.

"Thank you so much for your time," Kelsey closes, the consummate professional. "If I have further questions, would you mind me calling on you again in the future?

As he walks through his front door, the professor answers, "What there is left of it, sure."


* * *

No, no, no, no, no.

I open my eyes and peer at the clock as the phone continues to ring. Six a.m. Say it isn’t so.

I try reaching for the phone, but somebody has both my arms neatly pinned to my body with her arm. How in the hell can she sleep through this phone ringing? "Harper, honey, let go. I need to get the phone."

She groans, and I manage to get my arm free and pick up the receiver.

"Stanton."

"Hey, Little Girl."

My foggy brain barely lets it register that it’s Henry on the phone and that he sounds a tad panicked. "Henry? What’s wrong?"

"The Professor bolted last night."

"What?" Oh, he has my full attention now. I squirm free of Harper and sit up against the headboard.

"We think he left late last night. He had an evening lecture at the university. After it, his GA says he went to his lab, collected some samples and left."

"Shit. Do we have any idea where he went?" Where would I go if I wanted to release the second Black Plague?

Harper grumbles next to me and starts to say something. I quickly place my hand over her mouth as I listen to Henry. Glancing down I find two very sleepy, annoyed, blue eyes looking back at me. I shake my head, but remove my hand, when she nods her understanding. She crawls quietly out of bed, heading for the bathroom.

"Are you absolutely sure?" I ask when I hear him say that he thinks Dale is headed for New York City.

"That’s what my contact at the university said. He told his GA that he was going up to do a presentation at the U.N."

"Henry, I hope your contact was right because millions of lives could be at stake." Jesus, the thought is incomprehensible.

"I know, Kelsey. You’ve got to stop him."

"We’ll do our best. See you soon, Henry."

"No, you won’t. Just remember I love ya too, Little Girl."

"I will. Good-bye, Henry."

"Good-bye, Kelsey."


* * *

"I don’t care what it takes!" Harper yells into the phone as she zips her jeans. "We need to be on the next damn plane to New York City! I don’t give a rat’s ass which airport we fly into, just pick one of them, for Christ’s sake!"

I’m packing us up so fast, I’m not sure I’m keeping all our stuff separate. If it weren’t so critical that we get to New York, it wouldn’t be so bad. This is most definitely a pack and dash. I hate it when a story goes like this.

Of course, I love it too, but that’s beside the point.

"Then get me a goddamned private plane, you moron!" she yells again, waving her hands, which is a dangerous thing because she’s holding the phone in one. I’ve had to duck twice to keep from getting hit.

Man, is she in her element.

I finish zipping the last suitcase when she slams the phone down. "Idiots!" She grumbles, grabbing for her boots.

"Are we…?"

"Yeah, we’re on the next flight out, but we have to hurry. Jims and Conrad are already downstairs with the car. You ready?"

"Oh yeah, we’re ready. We’re gonna have to sort things out in New York, but I figured, no big deal." I shoulder our carryons, she takes our bigger cases.

"Very true, our underwear are not strangers anymore." She winks at me. "Let’s hope there’s a New York to sort things out in."

I grab the door, holding it for her as we begin our mad dash. I love this job. And I love doing it with her.


* * *

We’re sitting in the New York field office for the Federal Bureau of Investigation waiting to see the agent in charge of counter-terrorism. I have an unedited videotape of Kels’ interview with the lesser Professor in my bag and I’ve sent Jims and Conrad over to the network to work on editing the master tape.

Kels is pacing the hallway, burning a groove into it, actually. She does not like the lackadaisical response to our presence. In point of fact, we’ve only been waiting fifteen minutes.

"Miss Stanton? Miss Kingsley? Could you come with me, please?" a secretary asks, stepping out of a nearby room.

Kels mutters, "Finally" and we follow the nonplussed secretary into the adjoining office.

Special Agent Kyle Donovan rises from behind his desk and extends his hand to both of us. After we do the meet and greet thing, we settle down in the chairs across from him. "So, tell me about what brings you here."

I open up my briefcase, pull out the portfolio of information we’ve gathered on Professor Dale Sams and slide it over to him. "We went down to San Antonio a few days ago based on a story lead provided to us …" And I tell him our story.


* * *

We leave the FBI with two important objectives accomplished: one, the FBI has taken us seriously and is launching an intensive search for the professor, and two, we got the exclusive. The second wasn’t really that hard. There is no way in hell they want this information to get out.