Darwin's Children Read Online Free PDF

threw up any more dust, he, personally, all on his lonesome, could force the president to declare martial law.”
    “What’s the difference, Dick?” Mitch asked. “They’ve suspended habeas corpus.”
    “For a special class, Mitch.”
    “My daughter,” Mitch growled.
    Gianelli nodded. “Civil courts still operate, though under special guidelines. Nothing much has changed for the frightened average citizen, who’s kind of fuzzy about civil rights anyway. When Mark Augustine put together Emergency Action, he wove a tight little piece of legislative fabric. He made sure every agency ever involved in managing disease and preparing for natural disaster had a piece of the pie—and a very smelly pie it is. We’ve created a new and vulnerable underclass, with fewer civil protections than any since slavery. This sort of stuff attracts the real sharks, Mitch. The monsters.”
    “All they have are hatred and fear.”
    “In this town, that’s a full house,” Gianelli said. “Washington eats truth and shits spin.” He stood. “We can’t challenge Emergency Action. Not this session. They’re stronger than ever. Maybe next year.”
    Mitch watched Gianelli pace a circuit of the room. “I can’t wait that long. Riverside, Dick.”
    Gianelli folded his hands. He would not meet Mitch’s eyes.
    “The mob torched one of Augustine’s goddamned camps,” Mitch said. “They burned the children in their barracks. They poured gasoline around the pilings and lit them up. The guards just stood back and watched. Two hundred kids roasted to death. Kids just like my daughter.”
    Gianelli put on a mask of public sympathy, but underneath it, Mitch could see the real pain.
    “There haven’t even been arrests,” he added.
    “You can’t arrest a city, Mitch. Even the
New York Times
calls them virus children now. Everyone’s scared.”
    “There hasn’t been a case of Shiver in ten years. It was a fluke, Dick. An excuse for some people to trample on everything this country has ever stood for.”
    Gianelli squinted at Mitch but did not challenge this appraisal. “There isn’t much more the congressman can do,” he said.
    “I don’t believe that.”
    Gianelli reached into his desk drawer and took out a bottle of Tums. “Everyone around here has fire in the belly. I have heartburn.”
    “Give me something to take home, Dick. Please. We need hope,” Mitch said.
    “Show me your hands, Mitch.”
    Mitch held up his hands. The calluses had faded, but they were still there. Gianelli held his own hands beside Mitch’s. They were smooth and pink. “Want to really learn how to suck eggs, from an old hound dog? I’ve spent ten years with Wickham. He’s the smartest hound there is, but he’s up against a bad lot. The Republicans are the country’s pit bulls, Mitch. Barking in the night, all night, every night, right or wrong, and savaging their enemies without mercy. They claim to represent plain folks, but they represent those who vote, when they vote at all, on pocketbooks and fear and gut instinct. They control the House and the Senate, they stacked the court the last three terms, their man is in the White House, and bless them, they speak with one voice, Mitch. The president is dug in. But you know what the congressman thinks? He thinks the president doesn’t want Emergency Action to be his legacy. Eventually, maybe we can do something with that.” Gianelli’s voice dropped very low, as if he were about to blaspheme in the temple. “But not now. The Democrats can’t even hold a bake sale without arguing. We’re weak and getting weaker.”
    He held out his hand. “The congressman will be back any minute. Mitch, you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”
    Mitch shrugged. “I lie awake listening for trucks. I hate being so far from Kaye and Stella.”
    “How far?”
    Mitch looked up from under his solid line of eyebrow and shook his head.
    “Right,” Gianelli said. “Sorry.”
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    SPOTSYLVANIA COUNTY
    T he old