Quince, or his lackey, Simonds, would bring a sample of blood and tell him to produce a virus based on it. Sex “Just do your best, Doctor.” He climbed through the fence, “I’ll help you get the samples you need.”
Michael followed Quince. He had been a fool to tell Quince about the virus, but he had been too excited to think straight at the time. In his pocket he had four vials. Quince calmed the horses while Michael struggled to extract some blood samples from them. But he would spend most of the night thinking about the vials and their contents. As Michael expected, Quince was watching his horses. It wasn’t a large house, but being well out of the city, it had a fair-sized field which contained several expensive horses. They had the greatest difficulty in calming the young horse, which couldn’t have been more than a few months old. “I’m working flat out, but the chances of me being able to find a cure in that time are fairly low.”
Quince nodded, still watching the horses. Nearly every day, Paul would journey to his lab to see if any progress had been made. I need you to do a little job for me.”
“Of course, Mr Quince.” Michael wondered what it was this time.
