Only the last few rows of the hall were empty, and people were still trickling in. The three Boston television stations, representing the big three networks, each had a pod of lights, a video man, and a reporter set between the low stage and first row of seats. Although Sarah rarely watched television, she recognized two of the newspeople. Clearly, the possibility of the outbreak of some rare disease held more than a little public allure. The podium, covered with wine-color velvet, was festooned with microphones, a dozen or more. Behind it were five folding chairs, three to one side and two to the other. Eli Blankenship and Randall Snyder were already seated, with one empty chair between them. Paris motioned Sarah to that seat. If Paris was nervous about the event or the absence of a representative from the Centers for Disease Control, it did not show in his face or manner. He measured the hall for a time, then buttoned his jacket and crossed over to the three physicians. “Well, we certainly can’t cry apathy about this one,”
