text: The Ventura County Star published an editorial entitled "Incrimination by Circumstantial Evidence." The piece described Angelo's theory of the origin of FHF. It explicitly exonerated Noah and included an apology. Noah sat at his laptop, openmouthed. The nightmare is really over, he realized.
  
  At Angelo's suggestion, Dorothy hosted a small weekend party to celebrate Noah's public vindication. Angelo tended the barbeque, and Lowell Stanaland made sure that everyone had a drink. Noah and Gary enthusiastically discussed the resumption of their experiments.
  
  "What's the point of working with MEFA if there are no cats to experiment on?" Vera asked. "Why don't you two work on FHF? You have a state-of-the-art laboratory, and you're already set up to do that kind of research. Why not see if you can develop an immunizing agent?"
  
  "I don't know anything about infectious diseases," said Noah. "We can't just stop everything we're doing and start a new project."
  
  "You've already stopped everything," Vera cried, "even if it was against your will. Anyway, you don't have any cats, and you aren't likely to get any for a long time."
  
  Noah felt his stomach do a flip. He took a long swig of beer. "There are quite a few things we can do without cats, you know. Right now, we're just trying to get the globin gene to function in E. coli. We don't need cats until we get that gene to work. Besides, there are qualified people at the CDC working on a vaccine. Why should I butt in?"
  
  Lowell Stanaland had been standing nearby. "Excuse me, Noah, I couldn't help overhearing. I think Dr. Barnett has a point. Shouldn't you use your skills where they are most needed at the moment? I think the institute could come up with funds to support such a diversion in your research."
  
  "You too?" cried Noah.
  
  "Well, it's something to think about," said Stanaland.
  
  To Noah's relief, the conversation was interrupted by Dorothy's announcement that the food was ready. Talk turned to Angelo's upcoming trip back to Atlanta and Dorothy's attempt to sell her home.
  
  "You mean you're going to leave Camarillo?" asked Vera.
  
  "Of course," replied Dorothy, "unless the government agrees to move the CDC to Camarillo." She turned to Angelo and gave him a playful wink. "At our age," she added, "we don't want to lose what remains of our time together."
  
  "One thing I don't understand," Noah stated, changing the subject; "why does this FHF virus spread so rapidly and so devastatingly compared to, say, ordinary FeLV or FIV?"
  
  "Ah," said Angelo, "I have a theory about that."
  
  "You have a 'teery' about everything," said Dorothy teasingly.
  
  "Absolut!" agreed Angelo. "First, to understand how the FHF virus is different from the feline leukemia virus, you have to realize that the normal FeLV actually requires two viruses for the infection to be successful. It needs virus genes carried on the cat chromosomes—we call that the endogenous virus—and it needs an..."
  
  Dorothy interrupted. "Are you saying that all normal cats carry genes of the leukemia virus?"
  
  "That is correct. The domestic cat carries these genes. So do several species of wild cats. But, in addition to those endogenous virogenes, a successful infection requires introduction of an infecting virus from an external source such as another infected cat. I believe that FHF, either by mutation or recombination with virus genes in the Seattle Zoo cats, has lost the need for the endogenous virus genes. So all the infecting viruses are now able to invade and start the disease by themselves. We don't know how the virogenes interact with the exogenous virus. I think that if this interaction were no longer necessary, the exogenous FHF would be more likely to mount a successful infection."
  
  "Yeah, that would make sense," Noah remarked.
  
  "Then," Angelo continued, "somehow the altered FeLV picked up genes from FIV, the feline AIDS virus. My guess is that FIV and FeLV have some base sequences in common that make recombination between the two possible."
  
  "That all seems plausible," said Vera, "but there must have been still another step in the evolution of FHF. It could have picked up some Ebola genes at the zoo. That would explain the bleeding as well as the strange morphology, right?"
  
  "Yes, that is how I see it," Angelo replied.
  
  Angelo hated leaving Dorothy behind, but he had a job to do. The gray walls of the CDC offered him little comfort. He tried to concentrate on the FHF report, but it seemed anticlimactic. When Carlson appeared at his office door to tell him that Bronkowski wanted to see him, Angelo welcomed the distraction.
  
  They chatted about his experiences on the west coast and Angelo told Bronkowski of his marriage plans.
  
  "Congratulations, Angelo. That's great. By the way, are you aware that your name is all over the major web news sites and in magazines?"
  
  "What? Why? Where...?"
  
  Bronkowski burst out laughing. "You taking a journalism course or something? You left out when and who." He pulled a print copy of The Journal-Constitution from under a pile of papers. "Look at the front page."
  
  Angelo first saw his photo, followed by the headline "CDC epidemiologist discovers cause of cat disease." The byline was that of Sandra McNally. Below was a lengthy article with a continuation. He looked up at Bronkowski, open-mouthed.
  
  "What's the matter, Angelo? Cat got your tongue?" Bronkowski laughed at his own choice of words. "Seriously, how would you like to go on television?"
  
  "Television? Why do you ask?"
  
  "We've had a request from the producers of Rita Kenyon's show for an expert to discuss FHF."
  
  "Rita Kenyon? I watch her show sometimes at night. She's a very funny lady. She wants someone from the CDC to be on her show? She usually has people like the Secretary of State, or Ryan Gosling, or Dakota Fanning. You want me to go on Rita Kenyon's show?" Angelo could not conceal his uneasiness.
  
  "Sure," answered Bronkowski. "Of all the people here, you are the most knowledgeable about the disease. You're not afraid are you?"
  
  "Afraid? Scandaloose! I... well... maybe a little."
  
  When he arrived at the studio, Angelo was met by an officious assistant director who briefed him on on-air protocols—no profanity, don't interrupt Ms. Kenyon when she is speaking, and so forth. Angelo was a bit put off by the fellow, but he was enchanted by Rita Kenyon herself. She was even more attractive in person than she appeared on TV. Tonight, she was wearing white slacks topped by a white, silk blouse. Her auburn hair was cut short as usual. Kenyon quickly put Angelo at ease.
  
  "I'm just going to let you do the talking," she said. "I'm sure our viewers want to hear what you've learned about this terrible disease."
  
  Angelo was not Kenyon's first guest. He was preceded by a buxom young actress he had never heard of. He waited patiently off camera while the overly made-up blonde in an orange jumpsuit touted her latest movie. As he waited in the green room, Angelo became increasingly nervous. The longer he had to wait, the more anxious he became. When Angelo was finally led on camera, his throat was dry. He was introduced as the epidemiologist who had discovered the cause of feline hemorrhagic fever. He sat down between Kenyon and the well-filled orange jumpsuit.
  
  "Thank you very much," said Angelo in a hoarse voice.
  
  Rita Kenyon, cradling a white Persian cat with a light-blue ribbon around its neck, began matter-of-factly. "Dr. Kraakmo, would you tell us how you came to the conclusion that the disease started at the zoo in Seattle?"
  
  Angelo made an effort to overcome his anxiety. He described his detective work in some detail—more detail than was appropriate for a general television audience. Kenyon interrupted him. "Is there a possibility that no cats will survive?"
  
  "That is not usually the case with epidemics," replied Angelo. "Most epidemics, or epizootics, leave survivors. AIDS was an exception for a while, but with the development of the new chemotherapeutic cocktails, there are now many survivors."
  
  Speaking of the disease helped Angelo to calm down. "So far, however, FHF seems to be unique. We know of no cat that has remained alive once it has definitively been diagnosed with the disease. The prognosis is as poor as I have ever seen in any disease. None of the known antiviral drugs, such as acyclovir or ribavirin, has been effective against it. As you know, it has been less than three months since FHF was detected on the West Coast, and it has now swept all over the North American continent, invaded well into South America, and has been detected in several areas of Europe and Asia, in spite of strict embargos against the import of cats from the USA. So I'm afraid that it is very possible that there will be no survivors this time—no survivors unless we manage to develop a vaccine. The CDC is working on this, but we have not been successful so far."
  
  "Why, that is just horrible!" Kenyon proclaimed. "Does that mean that even Scheherazade here will come down with FHF?" She stroked the dozing cat affectionately.
  
  "Yes. I am sorry. As a matter of fact, your cat could be incubating the disease right now." A murmur passed through the studio audience. "I am curious. Why does your cat not show symptoms of the disease? Has she been isolated from other cats?"
  
  Kenyon replied, "I... I keep her indoors most of the time. Maybe I shouldn't have brought her here tonight."
  
  "Just how does the disease get from cat to cat anyway?" asked the orange jumpsuit.
  
  Angelo turned toward the young woman. "Well, uh... er..." Angelo was overwhelmed by her perfume and ivory smile.
  
  The starlet attempted to set him at ease. "Do fleas carry the disease from cat to cat?"
  
  "Yes," answered Angelo, suddenly aware that she was not only beautiful, but intelligent. "We have found that fleas can carry the virus. They don't even have to bite the cat. The virus just takes a ride on the fleas. There are many other ways the disease is transmitted. This virus is very stable. It resists drying, which would inactivate most viruses, and it can survive in the environment for weeks. Therefore, it is easily transmitted from one cat to another by objects and by humans. It can enter the cat through the mouth, the nose, or even through the smallest cuts in the skin of the cat."
  
  The woman's eyes opened wide. "You mean if I handle a cat that has FHF, and then pet an uninfected cat, I can give the disease to the second cat?"
  
  "Absolut!"
  
  "That's awful!" She faced the audience. "Isn't this terrible?" There was a murmur of assent.
  
  "Also, the virus may be transmitted to the female by the male during copulation, and vice versa."
  
  "Oh, I wouldn't call it vice when cats do it," quipped the starlet, drawing laughter from the studio audience.
  
  Angelo, not getting the pun, stared at her blankly.
  
  Rita Kenyon broke in, "So that's why the epidemic is spreading so rapidly—the virus is exceptionally strong."
  
  "We refer to such viruses as stable or robust. Yes, that is one of the reasons for the quick spreading of FHF," said Angelo. "By the way, we call it an epizootic, not an epidemic. Animals have epizootics; people have epidemics." Angelo uttered this with such earnestness, that the audience laughed at his pedantry. Angelo, seeing that he was the object of their laughter, played the good sport and flashed a big smile.
  
  "I would think that kittens could get the virus from their mother as well," offered Kenyon.
  
  Angelo nodded. "Yes, they can get it directly from the mother or even from her milk. We have found the virus in the milk of mother cats that have the disease. At the CDC, we have seen that newborn kittens from mothers with FHF always have the virus. So we cannot simply take the kittens away from the mother to keep them free of virus. It either infects the embryos, or else the kittens contract it during the birth process. We're not sure. It could be both.
  
  "We are presently experimenting to see if the placenta acts as a barrier to the virus. If it does, we might be able to develop a colony of virus-free cats if the kittens were removed from the mothers by cesarean section. If we succeed, we could buy time so that we could develop a vaccine before all the cats are gone."
  
  "Isn't there anything we can do to help?" asked the starlet with anguish. "I have a cat at home."
  
  Tears formed in her eyes and, in the booth at the rear of the studio, the director ordered, "Camera three, close-up on Josette."
  
  Angelo continued, "We are currently following three strategies at the CDC. First are the experiments with cesarean section. Second, we are trying a treatment with a drug called Actinomycin D. This is known to have some success with ordinary feline leukemia. Unfortunately, it often kills the cats before it cures the disease. Finally, we're trying to develop a vaccine. This is tedious work, and I must confess that we have not been successful yet. Anyway, the disease is spreading throughout the world so fast that, even if we are able to produce a decent vaccine, we might be too late."
  
  The interview went on a few more minutes, during which Kenyon asked the audience how many had pet cats and how many of those had come down with FHF. It turned out that of a hundred and twenty-seven people, forty-seven owned cats, and twenty-eight of those pets had come down with FHF. Twenty-two of the sick cats had already died.
  
  Later, in his hotel room, Angelo reflected on his television debut. I guess it went okay, he thought. Maybe I could have been less technical. Oh well...