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supposed to decay. Inside with the dead animal a technician in a biochem isolation suit was carefully taking pictures, moving the body and examining it in intricate detail. The person, sexless in the bulky protective gear, was using the microscope feature of the handheld camera on the fox’s nose which appeared shredded.
    “Can I see the tissue sample images? They weren’t included in the data packet you sent.”
    “I know,” Amstead admitted and scratched the thin whiskers on his chin, “we had a new set taken this morning. They should be mounted any time now.”
    “What was wrong with the first series?”
    “They got tainted somehow.”
    On cue a technician brought over an SD card and gave it to Dr. Amstead. He moved to a large display nearby and slid the chip in, accessing the files. In a moment he was frowning. “Same problem.”
    “And that is?” Lisha asked, coming up beside him.
    The older man pointed to an enlarged image showing muscle tissue biopsied from the fox. “There is no microbiological activity,” he said and ran his finger along a capillary, visible in stark relief due to the dye added to the slide. “Even though the dye would kill all the microbes, a carcass like this should be crawling with bacteria and insect larvae.”
    Lisha nodded and leaned closer. The image shifted to another, then another. One after another, all showing the same complete lack of bacteriological life. It wasn’t only unlikely, it was impossible. “Well,” she spoke after a few minute observing, “at least the lack of living insects on the carcass when discovered is less of a mystery.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Well, if whatever it is that killed all the bacteria was some sort of chemical, it is probably also what kept flies and scavengers away.” The other doctor nodded, accepting her professional opinion in an area outside his expertise.
    What she didn’t say aloud was the problem that really bothered her. It could be possible to expose an animal to a chemical that would kill all the microbes and bacteria, even in the gut. But that didn’t account for the remains of the same. All the samples were pure, with no signs at all of foreign organisms. It was almost as if this fox somehow was resistant to all bacteria.
    Six hours later she’d learned what she could, having unequivocally confirmed it was a fox of vulpes vulpes, and she took a vacuum sealed case of tissue and fluid samples before calling Andre and heading for the exit. Dr. Amstead saw her off with a handshake and his thanks just as Andre’s late model sedan was pulling up. It was a long day of travel in exchange for such an interesting mystery. All the way back to LA, Dr. Lisha Breda couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the beginning of something very bad.

 
     
    Chapter 3
    Tuesday, April 10
     
    Andrew sipped a canned sweet tea and watched as the Skycatcher came around on final approach two miles from the airport. This was one of his advanced students and he’d advised against the man taking his final solo today. There was a seventeen knot crosswind and the temperature was hovering around ninety. Not ideal flying weather. The wind was from a storm blowing in from the west that threatened to bring hail and probably a lot of sand out of western Texas as well. The man had been recalcitrant. He wanted his license and didn’t want to wait any longer. The conditions were borderline, so Andrew signed off and up he went.
    He’d made his two previous approaches perfectly, and this was the last one. If he brought this one in, he was home free. Now the wind was picking up another notch and Andrew eyed the radio on the patio table, half expecting him to call in for advice. He’d been a capable student but leaned towards uncertainty and indecision in difficult situations.
    The chirp of his smartphone made him jump slightly in surprise. Aside from his mother, who rarely called because she hated ‘those damn cell things’, and an ex-girlfriend