“Be ready to take notes,” Professor Taylor told his small crew,“Remember to stay back from the Infected- er Cured until thesoldiers say it’s safe and then I want you to try to observethem as closely as possible. We don’t know if they willremember anything after infection, but for many that will havebeen traumatic. They may be exhibiting confusion, fear or evenmild aggression. You are the only people left in the world thatare trained to deal with this. History is depending on yourfaithful recollections and hard work on this day.”Nella tapped a pencil on her legal pad nervously and walkeddown the slope where the soldiers had their weapons aimedsquarely at the sleeping Infected. There was no breeze and shecould clearly hear Rick Framden orating his broadcast from fiftyyards away, even over the insistent buzz of the insects.“This is it ladies and gentlemen. In just a few moments thesleeping darts should wear off and the whole world will be ableto see whether the Cure has worked. This could be thebeginning of the end of this terrible plague . . .”“No pressure right?” sighed an attractive Indian girl at Nella’selbow.Nella grinned in spite of the situation. “Hey, aren’t yousupposed to be over with the film crew?” she asked.“Nah, the Great Rick Framden sent me to shoot b-roll. I’mnot much more than an intern. And I’m stuck behind theselouts. I’m barely going to get a shot of anything exceptuniformed backs.”Nella liked her already. “We can’t let someone like RickFramden dictate what gets recorded for history. No offense.”“Believe me, none taken. Sevita Das by the way.”“Dr. Nella Rider. Stick close to me and get ready.”Slow movement on the field caught her eye and her smilefaded. It was happening. One of the Infected was stirring. Nellalooked around as a restless shuffle traveled through the soldiers.These weren’t hardened veterans. They were kids andhomemakers and retirees. All that was left that could prop up aweapon.…