“The Rising is ultimately a story of humanity at both its very best, and at its very worst. If a single event were needed to represent all of human history, we could do worse than selecting the Rising.” —Mahir Gowda “People blame science. Shit, man, people shouldn’t blame science. People should blame people.” —Shaun Mason May 15, 2014: Denver, Colorado How are you feeling today, Amanda?” Dr. Wells checked the readout on the blood pressure monitor, his attention only half on his bored-looking teenage patient. This was old hat by now, to the both of them. “Any pain, weakness, unexplained bleeding, blurriness of vision…?” “Nope. All systems normal, no danger signs here.” Amanda Amberlee let her head loll back, staring up at the colorful mural of clouds and balloons that covered most of the ceiling. She remembered when the staff had painted that for her. She’d been thirteen, and they’d wanted her to feel at ease as they pumped her veins full of a deadly disease designed to kill the disease that was already inside her. “Are we almost done? I have a fitting to get to.” “Ah.” Dr. Wells, who had two teenage girls of his own, smiled. “Prom?” “Prom,” Amanda confirmed. “I’ll see what I can do.” Dr. Wells took impatience and surliness as insults from most patients. Amanda