A Shift in Priorities - Sequel

rast

If knowledge can create problems, it is not through ignorance that we can solve them.
(Isaák Yúdovich Ozímov)

For their second mission in 1950, the Prerow rocket scientists had prepared a special stunt. Once the Russian NASA had launched a new manned mission, one would shoot up Raumschrat-4, so that two manned missions were going to circle around the globe simultaneously.

The NASA mission happened to be Kósmos-1, the first launch in the new series that aimed at establishing a space station. It consisted of a Nosítelnitsa-A launch vehicle and a twin pack of space crafts, a smaller Kuryér capsule that accommodated two space farers, and a larger Kósmos capsule that was destined to be parked in a stable 400 kilometre orbit – as initial module of the planned space station.

The Kósmos-1 launch occurred on September 21st, 1950. Getting up, however, was the easier part of the mission. Placing the Kósmos capsule went without problems. The difficult part was now steering Kuryér-1 back to earth. But before Kuryér-1 could even break away from Kósmos-1, Prerow announced the launch of Raumschrat-4.

In Achinsk, a certain panic erupted. What were these crazy Nyemtsi doing? One had no previous experience with navigating a craft in space, all earlier launches had been strictly ballistic. The whole sequence of rocket boosts had been calculated with painstaking accuracy. And now, the madmen in Prerow were creating a mess.

Of course, Kósmos-1 and Raumschrat-4 were farther away from each other than any objects on earth could ever be. There was no danger of a collision at all. Nevertheless, one had missed the original separation moment. Everything had to be calculated again...

If Prerow had intended to upstage Achinsk, they had made a hit. The international media were concentrating on the fact that two manned missions were in space at the same time. The Russian plan to start the construction of a space station was plumb forgotten.

The Raumschrat-4 crew, Oberleutnant Werner Laufer and Leutnant zur See Erwin Markwart, were conducting a series of navigational manoeuvres in low orbit, guided by radio signals from the ground. It was a clear progress over previous missions; the RRA was evidently gaining knowledge in space navigation.

After sixteen hours in space, the Raumschrat-4 mission returned safely to earth. – Until then, the Kuryér-1 crew, Rótmistr Ivan M. Sporkin and Poruchik Pyotr G. Sosslov, had been held in suspension. With the confusing Germans gone, the Russians went to action again. They relied on pre-figured firing sequences triggered by radio signals from the ground, a similar approach like in earlier German missions.

It worked, but not entirely as scheduled. Sporkin and Sosslov landed safely, but about 1,500 kilometres off the mark. It took the rescue crews more than thirty hours to find the Kuryér capsule in the Siberian taiga. In Achinsk, one was relieved. The most difficult task had been mastered – well, in principle. In compensation, one had lost the PR battle. But the first module of the space station was in orbit now. Once the second module had been placed, one could permanently man Kósmos. That would more than balance the books...
 

norlag

Expat said:
The US and the rest of the world can do quite a lot. Let's recall how many wars and changes in regime took place during the Cold War even though those countries were under the sway of nuclear powers.

Unlike the Cold War, the UK's support states are scattered and (except for Canada) are still controlled under imperialist, colonial structures. IOTL those collapsed everywhere as soon as an example was set, and there's no reason to think popular discontent wouldn't set in in Nigeria et al here.
Click to expand...

My statement was based on Canada. It is the most important resource deliverer. I simply forgot Nigeria. You are right that that is headache waiting to happen.
 

Expat

norlag said:
My statement was based on Canada. It is the most important resource deliverer. I simply forgot Nigeria. You are right that that is headache waiting to happen.
Click to expand...

Yeah, Canada's a tougher call. But even it has its weaknesses.

There's the fact that you've got an uncontrollable border and two (basically) indistinguishable cultures that's going to make espionage a snap. This goes both ways, but ask yourself which of the two nations (the US or Canada) are more likely to have a discontent population.

There's the fact that the UK just cancelled all foreign contracts that were helping to prop up Canada's high standard of living. Keeping Canada's living standards high is an expensive game that will get more expensive with each year as the US quality of life edges further and further ahead, and Canadians grow more and more discontent by the handful every day.

There's the fact that the logistics of keeping Canada in the fold should a true rebellion occur are definitely against Red Albion. Their fleets get older every year. They're fed on Canadian grain shipped via an isolated rail line or two, never more than 100 miles from the US border. Winnipeg's a logistical choke point 100 km from the border. The US could sit on that town, fortify it, touch nothing else in Canada, and the whole country would fall apart. If the British hit it with Arrows or disease, they only ruin their logistics further.
 

sloreck

The UK has nukes, the US has nukes. At the moment neither side has ICBMs and the UK does not have a jet bomber - I don't know if they have a prop/turboprop bomber that can reach the USA. For that matter does the US have a long range bomber? If things get ugly, the US can probably keep Arrow capable ships away out of range from the USA, certainly anything not on the coast. So, IMHO, a standoff with respect to nukes. Also, the UK can't use the same sort of tactics with bio as it just did in Africa.

While nukes/arrows, bioweapons could be moved to Canada in peacetime, as expat pointed out, it would be hard to conceal this and the US would not take kindly to the ("the Canadian missile crisis" perhaps?). I'm not sure how happy the Canadians would be with this development, who does the average Canadian dislike more the Brits or the Americans, and who is becoming less popular after the Ottawa event and other Red Albion moves. The reality is that using the nuclear club to keep Canada "red" is not a viable solution for the UK, if they have to nuke some Canadian cities to maintain control, they've killed the goose that lays the golden egg. Unlike the USSR OTL who was right next to the Warsaw Pact nations to keep them in line, Britain is a long way and a big ocean from Canada.
 

rast

"Why do you stand gaping there?" cried the dwarf, and his ashen-grey face became copper-red with rage.
(Brothers Grimm)

Letter to his wife, written by Fregattenkapitän Sigmund Z'Ledi:

Duala, October 2nd, 1950

Sweetums,

Still here. The shipyard folks say they could do an emergency repair job within three days. However, our enlightened government paid for an ordinary repair only. Thus, the tinkering will go on for another fortnight. Rather boring affair. – Hope you are all well. How do the kids get along with English? Horrible language, I know what I'm talking about, for sure. But don't tell them I screwed up, it will only discourage them.
Got the remnants of my broken tooth removed on Friday. Nasty session. Bled like crazy, and still hurts a bit. Will have to live with the gap until we are back.

They were holding elections here yesterday. Funny rite, when you come to look at it from the outside. Saturday night, the big party goes off, and on Sunday morning everybody and his dog crawls to the ballot box, hungover or still drunk, and casts his vote. You will have read the results in the newspapers long before this letter arrives. The bloody socialists won again, but got less seats than last time. Their religious buddies lost as well. Therefore, Otto Mwaya will be forced to strike a deal with the liberals. That may take some time, because the MALU stands for everything the SDPMA doesn't like. But the real riveting news is that in Südwest the socialists, the nationalists, and the liberals, together can form the new provincial government. Those tribal dorks, who staged the secession mess, incurred a devastating rout. Thus, rotten Südwest will remain part of Middle Africa. Cute, isn't it?

Are you following the news about the epidemic raging in Gold Coast? One of my crew claims the English planted the disease. That's a glorious idea, only that he can't prove it. Nevertheless, I mentioned it in my last report – as a possibility, because of the aggressive behaviour of the task force, but received no feedback. Most probably fed to the round file... Is there any discussion going on in the West African media? We often have these strange fever outbursts occurring in the mountains, therefore our medicine men ought to pay attention. – I gather, the Englishmen are claiming they are doing everything possible to fight the epidemic. The Middle Africans here were busy with the final phase of the electoral campaign, and didn't care at all, although Groß Togoland lies next door to the Ashanti territory, as you well know. Any news from your parents? They're living quite close to the infected area, aren't they? How far is it from Misahöhe to Kumasi?

I think, there's no need to worry yet. But one has to be careful nevertheless. These little critters can be quite devilish. There was this outbreak on the Itimbiri River in Nordwestkongo some years ago, which only ended because the bugs killed their victims quicker than the latter could walk away to other settlements. – Damn, I don't want to spread panic, but I have a bad feeling in this regard. Be careful, love.

A thousand kisses

Sigi
 

Expat

Yeah, this is definitely something that will produce more speculation and confusion than fact. Unless the UK admit they just weaponized a disease- not exactly a smart move- I'm not sure anyone will be able to say for sure what happened. And Ashanti territory isn't exactly a major hub on the world wire services. Another outbreak in the tropics won't warrant more than a couple column inches in the major daily papers, buried in the world news section.

Editorial speculation is another matter, but that's not likely to gain traction outside of the British expat community, the more alarmist parts of the US press, and the WAU.
 

Lycaon pictus

Donor
Expat said:
Yeah, Canada's a tougher call. But even it has its weaknesses.

There's the fact that you've got an uncontrollable border and two (basically) indistinguishable cultures that's going to make espionage a snap. This goes both ways, but ask yourself which of the two nations (the US or Canada) are more likely to have a discontent population.

There's the fact that the UK just cancelled all foreign contracts that were helping to prop up Canada's high standard of living. Keeping Canada's living standards high is an expensive game that will get more expensive with each year as the US quality of life edges further and further ahead, and Canadians grow more and more discontent by the handful every day.

There's the fact that the logistics of keeping Canada in the fold should a true rebellion occur are definitely against Red Albion. Their fleets get older every year. They're fed on Canadian grain shipped via an isolated rail line or two, never more than 100 miles from the US border. Winnipeg's a logistical choke point 100 km from the border. The US could sit on that town, fortify it, touch nothing else in Canada, and the whole country would fall apart. If the British hit it with Arrows or disease, they only ruin their logistics further.
Click to expand...

And, of course, in peacetime no power on Earth can prevent Canadians from just pulling up stakes and leaving for the United States.
 

Expat

Lycaon pictus said:
And, of course, in peacetime no power on Earth can prevent Canadians from just pulling up stakes and leaving for the United States.
Click to expand...

Yeah, the only gambit that might have a chance is turning southern Ontario and Quebec into an armed camp. Give up the ghost on competing with US SoL and imprison Canada. Millions will still flee across the US border, but you keep enough labor to get the job done. Heavily-guarded work details and mechanization handle the farming, mining, and lumberjacking.

It's not what I'd call a GOOD idea, but a million soldiers in Canada *might* be sufficient deterrent to keep the US from invading. And the only other alternative is just losing Canada straight up.
 

sloreck

Put a million soldiers in Canada, or even 500,000, and the result will be by the time you provide food, lodging, etc for your military force there won't be much left over to send to Britain. This is especially true as such Canadians who remain will be forced laborers, and we all know what a wonderful benefit forced labor and collectivization were for Russian agriculture. The other problem is that the raw materials and food that Canada produces and Britain wants are mostly in the western half of the country and have to be shipped east to get to Britain. You have to control the prairie areas of Canada otherwise having the eastern half does little good.

The other problem is that if you turn Canada in to one huge Gulag, there is a bitghit on British industry. Right now Canada is probably the biggest market for the crappy/cheap consumer goods produced by Red Albion. A markedly reduced demand for these goods in a "Gulagized" Canada means problems in Britain with factories idled and "unemployment".

Unless Skippy the ASB makes the great majority of Canadians true believers in the Red philosophy and happy sacrificers to build build socialism, the UK's odds of keeping Canada much longer is looking pretty slim.
 

rast

I have little doubt that when St. George had killed the dragon he was heartily afraid of the princess.
(G. K. Chesterton)

No, there was no way out. The prison was as primitive as perfect. Without weapons, it was hopeless; and even armed, one might still fail, because the situation outside was completely obscure. Polly Brown had eventually resigned – and was rather focusing on keeping fit. Doing pushups and deep squats didn't require any gym equipment; and there were many other exercises one could perform against the walls. It was sweaty and smelly, but it was better than sitting on one's hands. – The men preferred holding erudite talks, especially endless political discussions. Listening to this claptrap was an anathema for Polly; she rather kept herself busy with indoor sports.

Then, one day, things changed all of a sudden. The prisoners were ordered to their rooms, which were locked behind them by the guards. To Polly's booth, three tight-lipped strangers came, who handcuffed and blindfolded her. She was led away, through corridors, down the stairs, up the stairs, through more corridors, and more stairs... But there occurred no walk through the open, no car ride. Thus, they still had to be in the same building, where the small prison was situated, when she finally was seated on a chair, her hoodwink was lifted and the cuffs were removed.

Opposite her, behind a plain table, sat a trim man with predatory look. He was one of the three who had taken her away. The other two were lurking behind her; they looked like ordinary goons. On the table sat a strange gadget, a kind of carrying case with several wires protruding.
"Now, Prisoner Brown, this is a lie detector." said the predator, without introducing himself. "I will now connect you to it, and thereafter will ask you a number of questions. You will answer with 'yes' or 'no' or 'don't know', nothing else is required."

The predator rose, stepped around the table and started fixing wires to Polly's hands and neck. "We have thoroughly investigated the place where you've been apprehended – and interrogated an awful lot of neighbours." he explained, while working. "We know that you've been together with three strangers, who were not present when we seized you. We have useable descriptions of these men now. I will canvass you about them, remember: 'yes' or 'no' or 'don't know', nothing else."

He took place again. The gadget beeped. The questions were indeed simple, designed to be answered in the prescribed way. Polly answered faithfully. She had nothing to hide, because she didn't know anything. Well, she had some ideas what the Duck Brothers had been doing. But the questions were not asking for such lofty ideas. Predator kept on asking and asking. Without clock, Polly couldn't tell how long the interrogation lasted, it seemed to be an eternity. All questions were at least repeated twice.

Finally, Predator stopped asking, rose and started detaching the wires. "Yes, Prisoner Brown, that was very revelatory. Would you like something to drink?"
One of the goons placed a bottle of booze and a glass on the table.
Polly hesitated. What was this? Making her drunk to squeeze more information out of her? Or was it... She scrutinised Predator's facial expression. Yes, this was about sex. Awkward, but it might offer a chance.

"Yes, please." she answered. Predator poured her a glass full.
"Honestly earned." he said and smiled. It looked like snarling.
Polly drank, drank again, emptied the glass.
"Good!" she breathed. Predator filled the glass again. He seemed to be agitated.
It's not me, thought Polly. I'm past forty, have always been too massive to be attractive. No, this is about screwing the female general, about humiliating me.

The alcohol was hitting her hard. This was going to be difficult. How could she act purposefully, when Predator was about to make her dead drunk?
After the second glass, she started giggling, wriggling about on the chair, heaving her breasts.
"Getting eager?" He grabbed her by the arms, lifted her from the chair. "Come!"
She moaned hotly, pressed against him, reached for the bottle.
"Still thirsty?" He guffawed, took the bottle in one hand, guided her with the other.

There was a door, an ordinary chamber door. Behind it came a small room with a bunk. Polly moaned in distress, everything was turning around her, she staggered, burped, sniggered groggily.
"Strip naked!" He released her from his hold. She stumbled away from him, undressed clumsily.
With his free hand, he opened his fly, wrenched out his rigid dick.
"One more d-drink." she slurred.

"Piggy bimbo." He held out the hand with the bottle, poured booze into her open mouth...
... and groaned when she yanked the bottle from his hand, smashed it onto his skull, and hit again. The bottle broke. Predator went down. Polly thrust the sharp-edged remnants of the bottle into his throat, ripped it open, watched the blood spout out.
She sank to her knees, puked heftily. Did he have a gun? Yes. Good. She puked again. There was a window, the panes blinded with white paint. She crawled over, opened it. There were bars. Shit!

This left the door – and the goons. She staggered to the door, opened it. The hand holding the gun she apparently was using as support, stabilising her swaying body against the frame.
"Hey, you!" The goons had looked up when the door opened. Seeing her stark naked and obviously in the mood, they smirked in expectation.
Polly never had been a markswoman. Her skills with the pistol were mediocre at best. But emptying the whole magazine on the two blokes did the job.

Polly puked again, crawled to the door to the outside. It was locked – from the inside. The key was in. Had somebody heard the shots? But everything was quiet. – The goons had been drinking from another bottle. They hadn't anticipated to leave this place soon. Perhaps they had abided their turn, once Predator was done with her... So, no need for hurry. She needed rest, had to sleep off the booze...

She dropped the empty gun, staggered back into the small room, fell onto the bunk – and was fast asleep within seconds...
 

rast

"I am Death," answered the other. "No one resists me, and thou also must obey my commands."
(Brothers Grimm)

There were four camps, where refugees from Gold Coast were accommodated. And in two of them, the disease had been diagnosed. The majority of the refugees, however, didn't end up in camps, but with relatives, friends, acquaintances, or whatever opportunity arose. – This was bullshit, had adjudged General Oliver Law, a whole pile of bullshit. One couldn't have these folks wander around uncontrolled – and spread the bloody bugs everywhere.

Yes, this was a fucking emergency, and the Old Man had put him in charge. No, Sir, you won't protest, you will obey – or I'll have you shot after the early mass. – You might call the WAU whatever you liked to call her, but once the Old Man had decided on something, his will was enforced without delay. Law's army corps was on the move and the units were due to arrive within the next two days. Another army corps had already been put in ready-to-move mode.

These obnoxious Ivory Coast civil servants, the older ones still trained by the French, were going to learn what efficient management was. The existing camps had to be enlarged, and all folks from Gold Coast would be interned there. One had to put them under medical surveillance, all of them. And all WAU citizens, who had been in close contact with them.

The eggheads were still puzzling what the disease really was. It wasn't one of these haemorrhagic fevers like Itimbiri or the epidemics that often cropped up in the mountains. It had characteristics of glanders, and it seemed to be rather lethal – but slow. Itimbiri was a rapid killer, this new affliction was tardy. One didn't know yet how it transmitted – with exchange of body fluids like in Itimbiri? – or by simple touch? – or by breathing air?

Anyway, it was a killer – and its incubation period was as unknown as its way of transmission. Therefore, all immigrants from Gold Coast had to be put under surveillance. They all might be carrying the bug – or not, one simply didn't know. General Law was determined to enforce his will. The border had to be sealed. His soldiers would be allowed to open fire on everyone who didn't obey their orders.

The problem was that he didn't have enough medics – should the disease really become an epidemic. The whole WAU didn't have enough...
 

TheSDKNightmare

Yeah, this disease can probably esily spread through most of Africa, especially Mittelafrika. Most countries ITTL haven't dealt with more than chemical gases, meaning they lack the proper modernized equipment, so I can see this plague becoming a full-scale pandemic if it turns out to be very deadly and resistant to medical treatment, and I assume this is the case if we are talking about weaponized viruses. Or maybe just a Spanish flu in Africa? Or should I say American flu.

Though I assume military-grade viruses are made to quickly annihilate the population in a given area without spreading too much, but who knows, this is a much earlier period when it comes to developing biological weapons, maybe this is just a test by the British.
 

sloreck

By this time bacteriology is very established even with butterflies - the field was quite advanced by OTL WWI. I expect that antibiotics are more or less where they were in 1950 OTL. If this is a bacterial disease, it should be identified pretty quickly, something viral would take longer. The former should be treatable by antibiotics, the latter not so though nursing/medical care should help. In either case one can seek a vaccine, I would assume the UK has some sort of treatment either antibiotics or vaccine - unleashing something like this without protection for your own is way beyond stupid. The folks in Africa ought to be able to get a handle on this.
 

rast

One of the great disadvantages of hurry is that it takes such a long time.
(G. K. Chesterton)

Polly Brown awoke because she was cold. Once awake, she discovered that she had an awful headache and was parched. There was no water to be found in the two rooms under her control. Predator's trousers and shoes were outside the huge blood stain that was his upper body. The trousers were very strait around the hips and too long, but one could roll them up to fit. Shoes and stockings were too large but would do; those of the two goons were even larger. One of the goons had doffed his leather jacket before she had shot several holes through his body, so, this was useable. She could wear her prisoner shirt under the leather jacket. One goon bequeathed his beret, so she could hide her hair.

Courtesy of the Predator and the two goons, she had three pistols with two spare magazines, a trench knife and a cudgel. The wristwatch of one of the goons said it was six o'clock – in the morning, she presumed. Yes, opening the window showed an early morning sky. – Someone somewhere was going to miss the three customers soon, even if a merry night with her had been the plan. Better she got moving. – Outside was a kind of factory hall, with bits and pieces of rusty machinery still in place or lying around. The two rooms might have been the administrative section – or a kind of store. Finally, she saw a sink, but the tap released only a dry hiss. Fudge!

The compound seemed to have been a factory, long ago, before being turned into an MI5 prison. One could see where structures had been levelled to make room for the security strip. There was a brick wall, about seven feet high, with triple concertina wires on top, this was the outer demarcation of the site. The security strip was plain ground, harrowed and level. On the inside of the strip stood a fence, barbed wire approximately eight feet high on concrete studs. Polly saw a watch tower, but couldn't discern whether it was manned. Well, you better bet it was... And there was a kind of outer ward – for cars and trucks – with a double gate system.

Okay, this might work for vehicles, but for the personnel, the boys and girls who were working here, something smoother and faster must exist. You couldn't press your staff through a procedure that took about one quarter of an hour, one way. – This staff gate, or one of them, she had to find. Right now, people would be coming in, ready to start the daily work. Thus, the way out should hardly be frequented. Shift workers, like the guards, usually had different shift change times. Sometimes, Polly was truly glad for her Seascale experience.

Eventually, she discovered a working loo – and was able to quench her murderous thirst. A young wench, type secretary, came in when Polly was about to leave. Breaking her neck wasn't difficult; her clothes had a better fit – and were a better disguise. The glasses could serve to obscure Polly's face – and she still should be able to peer over the rim. – Yes, there were the security turnstiles for the staff, one for the incoming, the second for the outgoing. Two guards, one for each turnstile, were standing at the levers that could lock the turnstiles. Right now, both guys were checking the IDs of the folks in the incoming queue.

All right, waiting wouldn't improve her situation. If in doubt, attack! A pistol in each hand, she rushed forward. Both guards fell under her bullets, as did some of the staffers. The outgoing turnstile was unlocked. Throwing away the two spent pistols, she drew the third and rushed ahead. People were screaming, but the lanes were separated by an iron fence. There was a door, certainly remote controlled. But it remained open. She threw herself through it... and faced two guards under cover aiming at her with automatic rifles...

Polly stopped, dropped the gun, took her hands up. More guards arrived from behind. She was searched, handcuffed – and pushed back into the compound. Shit! Shit! Shit!
 

Expat

sloreck said:
The folks in Africa ought to be able to get a handle on this.
Click to expand...

Agreed. Africa's state of development should have already started contributing to further advances in the field of epidemiology. In this case we are seeing the backwards frontier of a developing nation take the brunt, so things may seem hectic and unimpressive. But containing tropical outbreaks has got to be a major health priority at least in the relatively wealthy coastal areas of the WAU, as well as MA. Basic things like logistics and training should be well advanced over OTL.

Related, I'd imagine that relatively low-hanging fruit like adequate mosquito netting and better plumbing have been lowering disease-related deaths quite a bit in the richer African countries.

And I'd think, as African higher education and research institutions gain in complexity by moving from second- to third-generation students/scientists, the continent will have every inducement to become world leaders in disease-related fields and biology in general.
 
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rast

Then he sat down by the grave, and wept and mourned, till at last he died too; and so all were dead.
(Brothers Grimm)

At least things were proceeding faster in Middle Africa than they did in Germany, reasoned Max Sikuku. In Germany, they were holding elections in spring, but the newly elected parliament was convening for the first time after the summer recession, about seven months later. In Middle Africa, it was one off: national ballot, constitutive session of parliament, election of chancellor – all within a fortnight. Well, it also meant tough negotiations, day and night... – Thus, he was a minister now, for education, health, families, and sport. – Of course, the prestigious post of foreign minister and vice chancellor had gone to Hans Kenonewe from Usumbura, the MALU chairman. Fritz Gesimu from Kigali had gained the ministry of economy, the second MALU slot, and Max had been lucky to obtain the third and last.

Now, education was one of his hobby-horses anyway. Jostling Hermann of the Cherusci and other famous Teutonic heroes from their prominent places in Middle African history books was a matter close to his heart. – And health... Hardly that he had sworn his oath of office, when the first reports about the alleged epidemic in Gold Coast had arrived. And this mysterious epidemic was the reason why he had come to Lome. – Groß Togoland didn't get that many refugees from Gold Coast, normally. Those folks rather turned to the English speaking WAU, normally. But right now, one had a whole camp full of them – and three cases of the disease...

"These are the fellows that are worrying us." explained Professor Eberhart Misuku from Duala University, while one of his assistants was removing the cap of the episcope. Max looked at the screen and saw a number of violet dots on a reddish background.
"May I introduce you to Bacillus Mallei and his jolly brethren, Your Excellency." Misuku had studied in Königsberg and Halle and had a reputation for being a true–bred Prussian. He had been member of a fencing fraternity and was at least as proud of his duelling scars as some in the room were of their tribal scars.
"The disease these little dudes cause is called glanders – or malleus in Latin, and normally affects horses, mules and donkeys. However, the variation we have here seems to prefer feasting on humans..."

"Is there a cure?" asked Max. Misuku sniffed and wrinkled his nose.
"With animals, it's not a problem: all beasts in the vicinity are killed. That usually does the job. – But I guess this is not acceptable here..."
Max growled and shook his head.
"Now, Your Excellency, normal Bacilli Mallei can affect humans, and often have done it in the past, but infection regularly was restricted to few individuals. We know of no veritable epidemic. Infected humans, if not treated, will invariably die – or not. It seems that people living with horses can get away with milder and non-lethal infections, while folks who don't hug horses regularly are prone to incur the rabid variant."

Misuku harrumphed.
"What we have here, Your Excellency, is the rabid variant with a vengeance. It seems to jump from human body to human body with some ease. – There is no vaccine and no quick cure. We are trying out various antibiotics, which at least may be able to stop Bacillus Mallei from reproduction, but don't expect miracles. – We indeed do have a problem."
"What do you propose, Professor?"
"Close the border. Confine all persons from Gold Coast, and all persons who have been in contact with persons from Gold Coast. Confinement ought to be singular, or in small groups only. Avoid conglomerations. Restrict all travel. Bring in the Red Cross and the military."

"National emergency?"
Misuku shook his head.
"Not yet. We have three acute cases – and about thirty folks with Bacilli Mallei in their blood. We are closely observing the population in question – and are constantly screening their blood. I will blow the whistle, if the numbers go up..."
"Are you in contact with your colleagues in the WAU and Ala Ka Kuma?"
"Sure. They rely on our analytic capabilities – and are providing all data we ask them for."
 
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