THE PANGEA CHRONICLES . BOOK 1.. 107.9°

99.9°

Centers for Disease Control

Atlanta, GA

16 June, 2019

2:15 pm

"This is posturing, Helen. I'm being sent there because I made him look like a fool."

Dr. Richard Crenshaw hated politics. In his eyes, men with agendas had far deeper consequences for humans than any outbreak. At least with an outbreak, you knew what you were dealing with.

Microorganisms didn't care who they took as a host. Rich or poor, black or white, Red State or Blue State. If a 'bug' entered a new body, it did what all life does: survive and reproduce. Equal opportunity infection. They were absolutely beautiful in their simplicity, and Doctor Crenshaw would prefer them over people any day.

Unfortunately, it was people that employed him, making contact with the ones he so deeply mistrusted inevitable.

"Whatever the reason, sir," the silver-haired woman said, her voice as lifeless as her bespectacled eyes, "Dr. Grayson wants you in Birmingham immediately."

"Well," he said, a defeated sigh slowly leaving his chest, "Emperor Grayson will just have to wait an extra hour. My girls deserve to hear it in person."

******

The commute to his Stone Mountain home was something Richard usually looked forward to. The foothills of the Appalachian Mountains offered a rare scenic beauty: lush green hills dotted by farms and small towns, in stark contrast to the grittiness of downtown Atlanta. Richard found himself on so many afternoons slowing down to enjoy the drive. Today, however, had been a bag of mixed frustrations. Work had become almost unbearable since he'd publicly questioned his boss's decision to shift funds from vaccination to research and development. Being labeled a whistle blower–no matter what one's intentions–was tantamount to getting shot in the foot before going on a long hike. Not something Richard had thought of when he started taking his stand.

It had started as a heated topic between Manager and Doctor, one as old as medicine itself: to vaccinate with serums we currently have, or study the virus for new ones. But when Dr. Crenshaw discovered his Superior working with the US Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Disease (USAMRIID) the military's super-secretive biological research arm, he was livid. In a move that amounted to professional suicide, he'd leaked his information to the media, causing a firestorm that burned white-hot through every office of the CDC.

The official response came via a congressional hearing. The select committee of Washington bigwigs, in the eyes of the public at least, always seemed just around the corner from getting to the truth.

"The American people deserve to know," grumbled politicians vying for election year sound bytes.

But as is the case with all things political, a different story was taking place behind the public spectacle. Both the accused, and the whistleblower were taken from their promising careers in Washington, and thrown back into the field, out of CDC Headquarters in Atlanta. The move was a way of silencing both those involved, as well as any outside critics who'd call into question anything else.

Thus, Dr. Richard Crenshaw, and Dr. Warren Grayson, would spend the remaining years of their respective careers, silently drudging the unambiguous.

Thoughts of his mistaken past began to fade behind him, as the green highway sign came into view.

EXIT 43

SR12/US 278/COVINGTON HWY.

1 MI.