by Candice Lim
“Was she―?”
“She was safe. I think she’s in Whiteshore.” Mandy gazed up at the ceiling, fingers crossed. “I hope she made it safe there and her parents too.”
“You’ve had no contact with her since?”
“The university is pressing charges. Her line could be bugged. I won’t endanger her any further.”
“Why are you telling me this now? We might as well book front row seats to Roxy’s execution.” Anger rose in Armani but it was too late. For the first time, Armani was overwhelmed. His mind went blank. “Why didn’t you alert the cops when she had been missing for over twenty-four hours?”
“I thought she was mad at me and being dramatic. Look, I can’t think straight. That’s why I’m here. I trust you. Partly because I don’t have anyone else to turn to. Don’t make me regret it!”
“Keep your voice down. I don’t want anyone to come banging on my door and finding a strange woman in my room.”
Mandy rolled her eyes. “Can I count on you?”
“It depends. Tell me what you have in mind.”
“It’s crazy.”
Armani sighed. “After all you’ve told me, what else sounds crazy anymore?”
Hours later in the darkened faculty, Armani regretted agreeing to Mandy’s plan. For self-defense, Mandy armed herself with a knife in one hand and a big torch in another whereas he was clutching a nail gun.
“This is insane. The best university in Asia Nova just offered me a place. If we get caught, my future is over.”
Mandy stuck her head into the corridor. “If Cranax spreads, none of us have a future.”
“Hey, I am helping you here.”
“Correction: we’re helping Roxy.” Mandy glided along the dark corridor as Armani trailed behind her.
They skulked along the wall and crouched when they reached the ornate double doors, the smell of genuine mahogany in the air. Armani saw the gold stenciled letters FACULTY OF GENETICS. This department bustling with activity in the day was devoid of life.
“Hold this for me.” Mandy shoved the lit torch into Armani’s hands and rummaged around in her backpack.
He shone the torch over the door keypad. “You sure you can do it?”
“I got it.” Rivulets of sweats ran down Mandy’s cheeks. She was no professional cat burglar but after viewing so many NovaTube instructional videos, Armani found no reason not to give her plan a try.
His faith paid off. With a twitch and a click, the door creaked open. Chilled air brushed their cheeks. Mandy and Armani exchanged victorious smiles. The two slipped through the small opening. As the door closed, they merged into the shadows until Mandy’s torch flickered on.
“We’ve passed Stage Two,” muttered Mandy.
They inched through the labyrinth of cubicles, with only their footsteps on the tiled floor audible. After a few minutes, the beam fell on a door labeled, ‘Dr. George Tucker’. Mandy reached for the knob and gave it a turn. To their surprise, the knob turned and the door creaked open.
“Blot my gel!” gasped Armani.
“Go in. We’ve no time to lose.”
Armani shut the door behind them. Stale air permeated the room, as though it had been abandoned for days. He went to the windows, drawing the blinds while Mandy sat at George’s desk and waited for his computer to boot up. Her fingers drummed the table impatiently.
When the coast was clear, Armani joined Mandy at the desk, sitting in the halo of light emanating from the screen. The familiar logo of a torch with its blazing golden flame disappeared. Mandy’s fingers danced on the keyboard.
“What exactly are you looking for?” Armani glanced at the windows every now and then. Never in his entire life had he done something so audacious.
“I’ll know it when I find it.” Mandy’s eyes stay glued to the screen. “Why don’t you search the drawers? Maybe we could get some more clues.”
Mandy must be out of her mind. But they were here already. Armani pulled out drawer after drawer. All he found were stacks of documents and books. Nothing of interest until he opened the bottom drawer and saw a pair of guns. “Zappers!”
“What?” Mandy tore herself from the monitor.
Armani grabbed his chest and took a deep breath. He reached into the drawer and picked up a Zapper. Its glossy white body gleamed like a pearl in the dim light. “I don’t believe this.” Armani turned to Mandy, whose expression mirrored his. “Did you hear about the Zapper regulation debate?”
The chair squeaked as Mandy stood up and took the Zapper from him. Her fingers stroked the Zapper in admiration and fear. An authentic Zapper was a dream gadget for students like Mandy and Armani. They had only read or heard about it from the news.
“I’d never seen one before,” admitted Mandy.
Armani nodded.
“I have something to show you too.” Urgency saturated Mandy’s voice. She thrust the Zapper back to Armani who dropped it into the drawer and closed it. The two huddled over the computer, its screen tinting their faces blue.
The schematic diagram of a life-size cylindrical container rotated before their eyes. The bold letters above read, ‘BioTomb Containment Chamber’.
“To contain what exactly?” Armani frowned.
“We should ask you, genius.” Mandy shook her head as a sigh escaped. “It looks big enough―I don’t know, to trap a human being, maybe?”
Armani’s eyes raced through the text under the diagram. He jabbed a finger on a tile icon at the lower corner of the screen. “There’s a PDF file for the SOP. Maybe we should check it out.”
A muffled sound broke out from behind the door. A certain chill engulfed both of them.
“No time to read now. I have a feeling Roxy would find this useful. I’m gonna send it to her.” Mandy sprang into action, her fingers tapping on the keyboard.
“You think she’ll read it?”
“Given the circumstances, this is the best we can do for her.”
“How did you know how to hack into a computer and stuff like that? I don’t remember our syllabus covering it.”
Mandy’s face shone with evident pride. “We are university students. Everything is self-learning, right?” She leaned back a little. “After all, we are supposed to be the future elite.” She hit ENTER and switched the monitor off, plunging them in the gloom. “All right, let’s go.”
“What did you do?”
“I think I killed it.” Pause. “Well, I don’t know. I recently learned how to kill a computer but haven’t got a chance to practice. Maybe it will come back.”
Armani pressed his lips in annoyance and flicked the torch on again. He rose and fumbled his way to the door. “Come on. Let’s get outta here before we get caught.”
Mandy let out a small chuckle. “What are you scared of? You can play the immunity card.”
“You wanted me to help you. I did. Now, let’s do what I want and get the heck outta here.” The quiver in his voice betrayed his growing fear.
Mandy held up a hand. “Chill, please. We’ll go now. Here’s a random thought, Armani: what are you gonna say if we are caught?”
“I wasn’t planning on getting caught.”
“I thought of saying we were making out here.”
Armani sucked in a breath as he turned to face Mandy. “No. That’s the last thing.”
“Okay. Then, what about stealing exam papers?”
Armani flung the door open. “No, wait―”
The strips of overhead lights snapped on, the blinding glare poured into their eyes like hot acid. The duo threw their arms over their faces. “What do we have here?” leered a male voice.
When Armani and Mandy lowered their hands, they were met with two guards, vicious smiles blossomed in their faces. The cubicles that had been vague shadows had taken forms, a massive maze stretched from end to end. Funny how the faculty now looked even eerier brightly lit.
“We were making out!” Mandy blurted.
“NO!” Armani shouted.
Four brows shot up in unison. The guards turned to each other and grinned.
“All right, we were stealing exam papers.” Mandy rolled her eyes.
“Mandy, shut up.” Armani turned to the bewildered guards. “Okay, fine, we were making out. Back there.” He jabbed his finger at the door where they had come out from. “In George’s room.”
The two guards stared at each other. “Okay. We don’t care about the details. You kids are breaking and entering. You will face judgment from the university disciplinary board. We’re just doing our jobs.”
Mandy nodded. If she was perturbed by what was happening, she managed to put on a good show. “To ignore wrongdoing is to be an accomplice to it.”
22
CASH
“Dr. Cash, were you aware of the risks Cranatol being used without clinical trials?” A male voice shouted above the constant murmuring and clicking of cameras. Blinding flashes went off like a cascade of lightning. Men and women in suits crowded the hall, in their hands were all kinds of recording devices. This was the first press conference after the launch of Cranatol, the solution to the pandemic that had claimed over 1,000 lives so far.
“In the early days of the pandemic, there was no time. Like all great Asia Nova scientists, we wanted to end the people’s suffering.” Cash smiled at the two nearest cameras. She sat at the long table with President Professor Peyton and three executive board members of MAD. Four muscled agents stood like statues behind the table. Seated before them in the hall were members of the media, all ears on every word spoken by the President, Cash and her associates. That explained the uneasiness she’d been feeling since the morning. One wrong word would spell catastrophe.
“How does Cranatol fit into the future of MAD, Dr. Cash?” Another female voice asked.
“It’s the first in a series of projects. The benefit of our fellow citizens is our only priority.”
“Why did you patent Cranatol, Dr. Cash? Wouldn’t it be a much affordable open source?”
Cash lost her voice as though she had been put into a spell. Her jaw fell agape. The cameras clicked as the flashed blinded her. The whispers increased and whirled around the room.
President Peyton took the microphone to quell the whispering. “I want what’s best for the citizens of Asia Nova. But future research to improve the quality of Cranatol and the maintenance of lab facilities require funding. Put it this way, my fellow citizens. For every cent spent on Cranatol contributes to the betterment of tomorrow.”
Cash nodded. “The President is right.”
Peyton smiled in acknowledgment and the press secretary picked up her microphone. The petite woman wore a muffin dress and looked like a walking vanilla cupcake. “That’s all the time we have. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending the 40th Asia Nova Scientific Conference. Please proceed to the function room for refreshments provided by our sponsors…” She proceeded to read out a list of company names.
Peyton fell back in his chair. The bodyguard behind him leaned closer. “I don’t want that piece of shit reporter walking around in Asia Nova anymore. Do you understand?”
The muscled man nodded. His hand shot up to his earpiece as he muttered some commands into it.
“We shall meet each other again around this time next year. In reason we trust.” The secretary turned to nod at the President as the audience began to rise. The men and women poured out through the two wooden doors at the other end of the hall.
Cash spat, “That son of a bitch journalist.”
“Seems like you are not well-trained in PR,” remarked Peyton. Both fixed their eyes on the dwindling crowd.
“That’s why I am known as Adenine Cash, not Adenine Press.”
“Speaking of cash, we need to discuss urgent matters.”
Cash looked past Peyton at the three MAD chairmen and gestured to them to leave. The three middle-aged men stood up and walked out of the hall.
“What is it?” Cash’s gaze went back to the President.
“We are running low on funds.” His voice was somber like he was giving a funeral eulogy. “We faced a setback in Graybridge. Troops were lost.”
“Tell me something new,” snorted Cash.
“I was just going to. If this state of affairs persists, we have to cut expenses.”
The last shadow flitted through the wooden door. The housekeepers swarmed in, white laced aprons covered their chests and lower bodies. They looked like a line of ants as they spread out among the benches and got to work on cleaning up after the press conference.
“I don’t like the sound of it.” Cash broke her silence.
“Neither do I.” Peyton leaned back in his chair. “So, I suggest a few measures. Including minimal remunerations and cutting of privileges for your fellow employees. After all, they are doing Asia Nova a favor.”
Cash’s lips curled into a sneer.
“They are bringing hope to the Infected. Their positions are an honor. When one’s work is charity, money shouldn’t be their main concern.”
“Now that sounds better, President.”
“You need to change your views.”
Cash rose to her feet, throwing a cashmere shawl over her shoulders. “We need more privacy. Let’s talk in the limo.”
Peyton nodded. As they began to walk, the man standing behind Peyton stopped them. “The press is still outside.”
Cash massaged her temples. She was exhausted. “I’ve faked so many smiles today my jaw hurts.”
“Keep your game face on and win over the people,” winked President Peyton. “Remember, win hearts and minds.”
23
ROXY
I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again. The panoramic windows almost covered the entire cockpit. The chromed nose of Silver Line burst into the sea of golden clouds. Brooding gray monoliths stabbed at the sky. From up here, the borderless land stretched ahead of the plane.
I couldn’t tell where exactly was Graybridge or Whiteshore. Everything had become one. Vast networks covered the earth where Corn City was the heart. It wasn’t my first time on a flight, but flying with a private jet was something novel. Especially one piloted by Vaxine. Overwhelmed with excitement, I almost forgot we were heading into danger.
For the past two days, Vaxine had taught me how to handle the other gun from Hershey’s lab. It was a gene gun called Genex. Not to be confused with the regular Zapper used to take people down. I also memorized the symptoms of Cranax by heart, after thirty-six hours of reciting them like a mantra.
Our labor paid off on the day we set off for Graybridge, the Cranax hot zone. We woke up early in the morning, powered by fervor. Vaxine wore a white leather trench coat with matching pants and fingerless gloves, and needle-point stiletto heels. To complement her outfit, she wore silver hoop earrings. “If we die, we die with honor. And go out in style,” she said.
I put on a black trench coat to conceal the Zapper and Genex in my waistband. Now I knew why most professors in CU wore long coats they must be all armed and carrying concealed weapons.
A large touchscreen displayed images in each corner of Silver Line’s cabin. Vaxine’s skillful fingers danced over the arrays of colorful icons, keeping her eye on the display and windows.
“Does it come with a missile launcher?” I asked.
“You bet,” said Vaxine matter-of-factly.
“And a cloaking system?”
“I’m sure the price tag includes all the basic defense mechanisms.”
“‘Getting a job these days is pretty tough’, yeah?” I reminded Vaxine as she turned away from the windows and leaned against the dashboard. “You gotta learn how to fly a fancy plane too.”
“Knock it off, Roxy!” Vaxine gritted her teeth. “Leave me alone and go play elsewhere!”
“Okay.” I held my hands up in surrender and pulled out my phone. “Lemme take a selfie first? Only one.”
Silver Line started its descent and the cabin lights came on above my seat. A cross harness was strapped across my chest. My heart jumped as the jet swooped down. For once, I was thankful to be securely held to the chair. The jet continued plunging through the clouds as buildings took shape. The fuselage of the jet shook as strong winds buffeted it. We flew over a mass of short, decaying buildings.
Silver Line regained its bearings and touched down with a rocky landing. My heart lurched as the jet shuddered. The jolting intensified, slamming my head against the soft headrest. The earth whirled on its axis as it began to blur. The brake screeched and I was thrown forward, the harness wrenched me back in a painful jolt. The whirring of the engine subsided along with the pounding of my heart.