Chapter Three.

     Jack Smith ran his fingers through his shaggy dark hair and threw his pen down in frustration. Ten years and still he hadn't solved it! Just when he thought he had it, he ran into another dead end. He was supposed to be a genius, but maybe this was one of the things that even a rocket scientist couldn't figure out.

     "Did you try asking God yet?" a voice whispered in his ear, as if someone was standing right beside Jack. "His wisdom is infinite."

     God? Jack thought, his brown eyes widening. He hadn't talked to God once during this whole disaster. Was it because he felt responsible for unleashing the horrible epidemic that had killed thousands of people in America alone? Probably. Jack felt like he didn't deserve to talk to God after that. But who...?

     The young man whirled around in his seat, expecting to find some beautiful creature---from her sweet, angelic tones of course---next to him. But he was alone in the tiny room. "I need to get some more sleep," he sighed aloud, rubbing his face with his hands.

     It hadn't really been all that long ago. A man bustle down a street in the suburbs, one arm filled with groceries and the other clutching a strage briefcase with encrypted licks. Clyde von Mercury never liked leaving his house unguarded, even to pick up the supplies necessary to living. His sharp, clear green eyes betrayed a scientific personality, though his unruly dity-blonde hair and sloppy clothes tried to deny it. Indeed, he was a scientist, having worked for the government in the pathogens branch at one time. He'd been experimenting with smallpox, an essentially extinct disease, trying to advance its murderous ability to new and higher levels---for biological warfare, he hoped. But, of course, he'd been caught trying to mutate its DNA signature and fired, to say the least. However, Dr. von Mercury wasn't about to let some petty little thing like that stand in his way.

      He stopped suddenly as he saw his cozy little house surrounded by police squad cars, and a dirty scowl worked across his face. how dare they. Stalking through the broken-down door, he surveyed the chaos of a thourough search and angrily slammed the groceries on the table. Grabbing his keys, Dr. Von Mercury stormed down the hallyway to the room where he kept his...

     ...lab.

     The place had been completely ransacked. Glass beakers were strewn everywhere, cabinets and drawers were thrown open and their contents dumped on the ground; a stern-looking police officer was in the process of burning the doctor's notes with a lighter. Looking up, one of them slapped handcuffs on Clyde's wrists and said: "Dr. Clyde von Mercury, you are hereby under arrest for tampering with Mother Nature."

     The scenes changed, and as Dr. Clyde was being escorted into a blue-and-white vehicle two policemen stood conversing in low tones on the sidewalk. "Ed, I'm entrusting this to you until our FBI agent can get here," the sheriff said, gingerly handing over a glass beaker filled with some kind of strange green liquid. Nodding, Edward Smith tucked the dangerous substance into his breast pocket.

     Jack could'nt remember falling asleep, but he woke up with a start just as a lovely girl dressed in white, unseen by any human eye, withdrew her soft touch from his shoulder. "Was that how my father got ahold of this killer smallpox?" he questioned aloud. Or had it been a dream and nothing more? Perhaps he was a vision, he found himself contemplating mentally; she smiled.

     Healing was on its way.