Insects 3: Specimen

by John Koloen

  68

  MOVING ALONGSIDE BOYD, peering into the lab, Duncan saw something he hadn’t seen before: Reptilus blaberus crawling on the ceiling. For an instant he marveled at this previously unknown ability. He knew they could jump upwards of ten feet, but even with the help of their wings they couldn’t remain airborne. He’d wondered whether they were climbers, but the glass aquaria made the question moot. Now they could not only jump, but they could attach themselves and maneuver upside down, squeezing between the vent louvers and into the conduit. Some of Biodynamism labs had self-contained ventilation systems. Duncan’s lab did not. It shared conduit with many of the second floor offices, rooms and hallways.

  Haverty reached for an iPad that one of his men was carrying and pulled up a schematic of the building’s second-floor ventilation system. It took several minutes as more of the insects left the lab for the conduit, but not enough to hazard a rescue of Miller and Angel.

  “Get me someone from physical plant who knows the conduits up here,” he barked into his microphone. “Now! And get some more men up here.”

  Within minutes, another contingent of camo-wearing men appeared.

  “I want this floor evacuated now,” he told them.

  “What do we tell them?”

  “Tell them there’s an emergency in one of the labs and that we’re evacuating as a precaution.”

  “What about the first floor?”

  “Not at this time. Just the second.”

  Satisfied that his side of the door was secure, and with a nod to the security man pressing against the door, Boyd stepped back, as did Duncan, who joined Cox and Haverty, who stood in silence, watching the lab and then the hallway behind them as employees started to evacuate.

  “What are you trying to do?” Duncan asked.

  “We have to cut off the conduit somehow. Either cut through it and install a barrier of some kind or, something I don’t want to do, pump a fumigant into it. That’ll kill off everything in a lot of labs like yours.”

  “That would be a disaster,” Cox agreed.

  “And it would kill the guys trapped inside,” Boyd said.

  “That, too,” Haverty said. “If they aren’t already dead.”

  69

  SINCE DUNCAN’S LAB was at the end of the building, blaberus could go in only one direction to move deeper into the conduit. How quickly they would move, or whether they were moving at all, was unknown. For all that anyone knew, the insects that had squeezed through the vents hadn’t made a move. They could all be gathering around the vent.

  It took time, but workers finally appeared with a reciprocating saw and several ladders. While Ramon was being treated for his wounds at the company infirmary, DeShawn, the only exterminator who had escaped injury, was located in the cafeteria and was escorted by security to Duncan’s lab. Nervous and fearful, he told his escort that he would never go into the lab.

  “I’m not goin’ back there,” he protested, before anyone asked. “I saw what was going on.”

  “You don’t have to go in there,” Haverty said. “All you have to do is bring fumigant up here and pump it into the vent. That’s it. You don’t have to get near the bugs.”

  “You’re gonna kill them with gas?”

  “That’s the idea. Now make it quick. Get that stuff up here. We might still have time to save your friends.”

  DeShawn moved quickly down the hall, outpacing his escort, telling them to hurry “to save his buds.”

  70

  LOOKING AT THE conduit schematic, Haverty directed that it be severed before it reached a major junction. This would isolate the conduit leading to Duncan’s lab as well as several offices on either side of the hallway. The plan was to cut through the conduit with the reciprocating saw and fit it with an end piece that would prevent the insects from infesting other parts of the building. The men who would do the cutting weren’t told about the insects or the men inside the lab. They were told simply to remove a section of the conduit and cover one of the open ends. Haverty was afraid that if they knew more, they would hesitate and perhaps decline to cut the conduit. Nobody wanted to see a swarm of killer insects pour out of the vent’s open end.

  “You know,” Boyd whispered to Duncan as he pulled him aside, “even if the bugs are in the conduit, you know, where they’re cutting, there probably won’t be many of them. Most of them are still in the lab.”

  “You want one of them dropping on your face?”

  “I take it back. Even one’s too much.”

  “But I agree, there’s not that much danger.”

  Hearing a portion of the conversation, Cox joined in. “So, what do you think?”

  “About what?”

  “The gas. They’re gonna kill those guys, aren’t they?”

  Duncan sighed. The urgency that everyone had felt at the beginning before they had a plan had given way to a sense of calm once a decision had been made and work was about to begin. The trio moved down the hall as a workman pulled out ceiling panels and started to cut through the metal conduit. The noise was as loud as a lawnmower and forced the trio farther down the hall.

  “Is there some way to pull them out before the gas goes in?” Cox asked anxiously. “This is gonna look really bad if we kill two of our own employees. I don’t know if I can go along with this.”

  “What’s the alternative?” Duncan asked.

  “You said a bunch of the bugs are in the conduit. That means there’s fewer in the lab. If they’re scattered around, maybe we could just go in and get the guys out. I mean, how much damage can they do in thirty seconds?”

  It took several minutes to slice a chunk of the conduit and cover the open end with sheet metal, securing it with duct tape. DeShawn had yet to return with the fumigant and while they waited, Duncan, Boyd and Cox approached the security chief with their plan.

  “We can’t risk it,” he said sternly.

  “But think of the men,” Cox pleaded. “Think of the publicity.”

  “What publicity?”

  “You think the families won’t go to the media? It’ll be a nightmare.”

  “It’s manslaughter on the face of it,” Boyd said.

  “You guys are nuts. You want to open the door and let the bugs out, is that it?”

  “There won’t be that many,” Duncan said. “You can crush them like cockroaches.”

  “What if they start flying to the ceiling? What then? Brush them off with a broom?”

  “Get some insecticide up here, a sprayer, or cans of it. They won’t die instantly but they won’t survive for long. It’s a chance we’ve got to take,” Duncan said.

  Haverty’s men and the workmen heard much of the conversation and looked worried. Without a word, he stepped away and spoke into his microphone.

  “Get stretchers up here immediately,” he said. “And as much insecticide you can find. Anybody gives you guff, you tell ’em to talk to me. Got it?”

  71

  DESHAWN AND HIS escort arrived just as Duncan, Boyd, and Cox prepared to enter the lab’s lobby. The workmen gave them their coveralls and gloves. One of them offered to bring helmets but Duncan told him there wasn’t time. They bound the coveralls at their ankles and wrists with string that they found in a nearby office, zipping up the fronts. Wrapping their heads with bandanas supplied by the workmen, they steeled themselves momentarily in front of the lab’s outer door while others stepped back. On Duncan’s signal, the security guard who had been holding the door shut pulled it open but could not get it to seal tightly when he tried to close it behind him.

  Entering single file, they moved directly to Duncan’s office, where they yanked the door open and found Miller curled in a fetal position, moaning. Too big to carry, he resisted as the men grabbed his wrists so they could pull him to safety. As if on cue, several dozen insects swarmed into the air, filling it with their awful buzzing. While Boyd pushed Duncan’s desk into a corner, Cox and Duncan pulled on Miller’s arms as the insects landed on the would-be rescuers. />
  Cox was the first to react as several of the bugs landed on his head and immediately started tearing through the flimsy bandana. Gripping Miller with one hand, he used the other to grab at the bugs on his head.

  “Don’t do that,” Duncan said through gritted teeth.

  “It hurts.”

  “Don’t open your mouth. They don’t want your head, they want your mouth. Don’t stop.”

  Boyd held the office door while Duncan and Cox pulled awkwardly on the deadweight that was Miller’s body. With bugs crawling on their coveralls they approached the outer door. No signal was needed to tell the security guard to open it. But he couldn’t. It was jammed. As he pulled on it with his bare hands, one of the insects landed on his arm and instinctively he stopped what he was doing and momentarily focused his attention on removing the insect.

  “Fuck,” Cox said. “They’re on my neck. Open the door,” he shouted, letting go of Miller to bat away insects flying near his face.

  Wordlessly, Haverty stepped in front of the door and with a tremendous heave, pulled it open, nearly ripping out its top hinge.

  Duncan, Boyd, and Cox rushed through, pulling Miller an additional ten feet before letting go to combat the insects that had attacked them. At the same time, Haverty forced the door in place, though again the seal was imperfect.

  While they’d been rescuing Miller, insecticide was delivered by two more security guards and several men and women were rushing down the hallway carrying stretchers.

  Cox was on the verge of panic as he struggled to pull off the bugs that had landed on his neck. Boyd, ignoring the bugs that were chopping into his coveralls, helped him out, grabbing them one at a time, ripping them loose and throwing them hard against the floor, where they lay leaking greenish fluids. Cox felt the divots in his neck, his hand covered with blood as he pulled it away.

  “My God,” he shouted, staring at his bloody hand, and without another word fainted, dropping to his knees. Lights out.

  72

  BOYD AND DUNCAN knew rescuing Angel would be more difficult, assuming he was still alive. He’d been down the longest and there were many obstacles in the lab, including the platform truck and broken glass. The only advantage, if it could be called that, was that Angel was much smaller than Miller. After having insecticide sprayed on the bugs that were attached to their clothing, Duncan and Boyd stood in front of the door and signaled Haverty to open it. Struggling with its bulk, the security chief managed to open it wide enough to admit the two rescuers before quickly replacing it, again imperfectly. He directed one of his men to step on any escaping bugs.

  There were twice as many insects in the lab as there were in Duncan’s office. They wasted no time in attacking the two men as they swung the lab door open. Angel was lying on his side, curled into a ball. His arms and legs were locked in place and neither of the men could pull them apart.

  “He’s alive,” Boyd mumbled through his teeth.

  While Boyd dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around the frozen Angel, Duncan batted at the jumping insects swarming around them. With great effort, Boyd got to his feet with Angel in his arms, followed by Duncan, and raced to the entrance where Haverty opened and quickly closed the door.

  “Duct tape, we need duct tape,” Haverty shouted, pressing against the door.

  One of the workmen tossed him a roll and Haverty and two of his men taped the door shut, doubling and then tripling the tape from top to bottom, making it airtight.

  Cox, who had regained consciousness, sat against a wall in the hallway, his head bandaged by one of the people who had brought the stretchers. Miller had been removed immediately and the medics wasted no time rolling Angel onto the second stretcher and spiriting him down the hallway. Now it was DeShawn’s turn. With a cockiness that belied the panic that had previously gripped him, he climbed the ladder the workmen used to cut through the conduit and cut a tiny slit in the duct tape, threading a small rubber hose inside. The hose was attached to a metal cylinder labeled Sulfuryl Fluoride. After adding tape around the slit, he directed everyone to leave the area before donning an M51 respirator.

  “This is nasty stuff,” he said. “Once I turn the valve, you better be outta here.”

  73

  THE POISONOUS GAS, used most often against termites, coursed through the truncated ventilation system. After opening the valve, DeShawn left for a short while to let the colorless, odorless gas do its work. Peeking into the lab when he returned to close the valve, he reported a floor littered with dead and dying insects. Within hours, crews wearing respirators and Tyvek suits installed flexible conduit in the hallway to suck out lingering gas, venting it through a window they’d removed in a nearby office. News of the event leaked out, but without video or photos, the story quickly lost traction. Once it was determined that Miller, Angel, and Ramon would survive their injuries, CEO Galen Mazur directed his legal affairs office to provide confidential settlements with the men, including coverage for medical treatment resulting from their injuries for the rest of their lives.

  Duncan and Boyd never returned to the lab. Both signed releases the next day, Friday, Boyd getting six-months severance and Duncan twelve. The pair hung out together that afternoon while waiting for Carolyn McKenzie to get off work. She and Boyd would drive to her bus where they expected to start a life together. Duncan had a one-way ticket to Chicago on Saturday. The company agreed to ship his belongings, mostly books and clothing, to Maggie Cross. Duncan would board the plane with only a carry-on bag and his laptop.

  “I’m guessing this is the last time we’ll see each other,” Boyd said as they sat in one of the campus’s courtyards.

  “It looks that way,” Duncan said solemnly. “This is the end of the road for me, as far as my career goes.”

  “What’re you gonna do?”

  “Get to know Maggie better. What about you? Still plan to write a book?”

  “I’m thinking about it.”

  “I think it’s a good idea. At least something good will come of all the crap we’ve had to deal with. You decided not to go into reality TV after all?”

  “Yeah, I’m done with it,” Boyd said, followed by a lengthy silence. Then both tried to speak at once.

  “You first,” Duncan said.

  “I just want to say that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” Boyd said quietly. “I’ve learned so much and experienced so much that if I don’t do another thing in my life, other than write a book, I’ll be satisfied.”

  Duncan bowed his head modestly.

  “Cody,” Duncan said, haltingly. “I don’t know what I would have done had you not been at my side the whole time. You were like a rock.”

  “I thought you were the rock.”

  “No, I was the hard place. You were the rock.”

  Both men snickered. As the conversation wound down, Duncan stood and stretched. Boyd joined him and they embraced, hugging each other tightly and patting their shoulders.

  “If there’s anything I can do for you,” Duncan said, “just ask.”

  “Same here.”

  74

  JAMES HAVERTY JOINED Duncan in the cafeteria Saturday morning while the scientist waited for his ride to the San Antonio airport. Duncan had mixed feelings about Haverty but didn’t hold a grudge, even though he felt the security chief had taken advantage of him in Brazil. He was starting a new life and there was no point burdening it with recriminations from the past.

  “I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you,” Haverty said, as they sipped coffee in the nearly vacant cafeteria.

  “Me too.”

  “I think we were lucky that no one died,” Haverty said. “When I saw the damage just a few hundred of those things could do to a person in such a short time, I could only imagine what you were dealing with in the jungle.”

  Duncan nodded, remaining silent.

  “Was it worth it?”

  “Was what worth it?”

  “The whole thing.”

  “You
know, I thought I was discovering something important that would change the world and set me up for life. I thought I’d be made a full professor with multiple projects and ground-breaking papers. But that didn’t happen.”

  “Do you regret any of it?”

  “Mostly I regret coming here, but what else could I do? If it weren’t for you, I would never have gotten the specimens into the country. And I learned about them here, more than I’d known before.”

  “That’s something, isn’t it?”

  Duncan let his philosophical mood take over. He praised Haverty for his quick actions leading to the containment and destruction of the Reptilus blaberus colony that the scientist had labored for months to produce.

  “If only we had that habitat,” Duncan said. “None of this would have happened. Finally it arrives and now there’s no use for it.”

  “Maybe Dr. Thomas can use it,” Haverty said. “I understand his cloning project is coming along quite well.”

  “What do you think is going to happen to that one tank that wasn’t poisoned?”

  “I don’t know. Thomas has it and I’m guessing, with the success of his program, he’ll end up killing them off, only not like we killed off the ones in your lab.”

  “I can only hope you got them all,” Duncan said.

  “We got most of them, I’ll bet on that. If one of two got away, well, I’m not gonna lose any sleep.”

  Duncan smiled.

  “Your ride’s here, doctor. Good luck to you.”

  “And to you.”

  THE END

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