(And now, another of Chuck's Popcon tales.) by Chuck Pearson Epidemic: Cause Unknown Waaaarraahh!! The siren wailed its song into the night, slowly and mournfully. A man staggered out in front of the car and collapsed to the pavement. Tires screamed as the car halted. The officer turned the body over with his foot. He leaped back into the car and sped off down the road. His radio squawked as he phoned in the report. Across the state the governor drank coffee and smoked a dirty cigar as the news came into popcon center. The teletype messages piled in an ever increasing stack. "How's it going, Boss? Slowly, I suppose?" the governor asked. A short, balding man stopped in his aisleway, causing a minor traffic jam. "Not too well, I'm afraid. Whatever is causing this sickness is moving around. We can't pin down the source. I'm afraid that this could cause an upset in organization. They probably did it." "That could be it, though I doubt it. They've never tried anything this big before. It's just an uncontrolled sickness." The number of dead mounted over the weekend and then it fell to nothing. As soon as the epidemic was under control, Popcon investigators, previously infiltrated into the World Health Organization, went into the field to discover the cause. John Healdern was attached to the state as special agent in charge. "There were forty-nine who died of the disease. There is no visible connection between the victims. Your job is to find the connection and the source." The head of Popcon in the state was sweating visibly. An unexplained epidemic could cost him his job and status. He might again be forced to be ready at all times of the night to go any place in the world on no notice. He had become used to his steady life. Healdern looked the groveling man over with disgust. He was used to working with men who were devoted to their jobs because they believed in the work being done. He didn't like men who were out to gain comfort instead of to work. The governor stuck in his two-bits. "I think it was negligence that caused it. There is no reason to believe it was one of their plots as has been hypothesized." The state head flushed. It was strictly against procedure to speak out against one's superior. He refused to recognize the charge by answering it. Healdern sent his agents into the field. Any clue that could possibly help was unearthed and brought to light. The end result was: nothing. The governor sat in as temporary director while the investigation was held. He listened to the reports and gave considered opinions to the subject matter. Over and over again he torpedoed the idea that they were doing it. He continued to rate it as a case of negligence. Then, on the fourth day, a clue. A field agent phoned in that he had on the hook a man who said he knew what had caused the epidemic. Healdern told the governor and headed for the address the agent had given him. The governor got on the phone. Healdern sped across the city; the police escort barely was able to keep up. He arrived at the address and ran up the steps into the house. On the floor lay the special agent and the witness. Both were dead. Healdern called for an ambulance and called in the police. Then he headed for his office. The staff of the headquarters stood ill-at-ease as the special agent stood before them. "One of you is a traitor. One of you sold us out to them. We discovered that they were using Earth for a population dump and started actions to prevent it. Evidently, they still have agents on Earth. Those agents are trying to upset the population balance and thereby discredit us. We are not going to allow it. I ask any of you who are harboring suspicions to please report them. You are dismissed." After the assembled group had shuffled out, Healdern's understudy spoke. "Do you think they will tell us who it is?" "No, I don't. But it might make the enemy nervous to know that we suspect he is part of our organization." "Are you sure?" "No, I don't even this he is part. But if he is, he may be scared, I hope." Two days later another special agent was killed. A day after that, another agent died in a car accident. Healdern stormed and fumed, but there was no connection between the dead men. It was Healdern's understudy who finally discovered the link. He was all excited when he rushed up to the agent. "I found the connections!" he shouted. "What is it?" Healdern asked. "The governor lectured in all the towns where the plague struck in the week before it. All the dead men were at his speeches." The governor gave a speech a week later. At the lecture hall was a blond young man who was not recognizable as Healdern's understudy. This altered person drew a revolver and shot the lecturer. Healdern attended the execution of his understudy. The brave death gave him a feeling of pleasure. The boy had been too smart for comfort... and he liked dedicated agents. [pp. 7 - 10, MERK-MAG #3, Summer 1966]
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