Death and The Divide

by Lara Nance

  “Have you seen any surveillance equipment?” Linc asked, wanting to slap the drink out of his hand.

  “There’s a camera over there, but it’s not on.” Min pointed to an area over a fake palm tree. “It’s probably part of the original construction, not put there specifically for us.”

  “So they might turn it on if they want to see what we’re doing?”

  Min shrugged. “If it’s operational. Who knows?”

  He advanced on the younger man, fighting to contain his anger. “Will you snap out of your cocoon of pleasure-seeking denial? We are going to die if we don’t figure out a way to beat them. Manson’s going to kill us once he no longer needs our DNA. That means as soon as his cure is legitimized, we’re no longer necessary. He’s not going to let us go and take the chance we’ll tell his secret that he’s not a savior. Don’t you get that?”

  Minlo flinched. He lowered his head. “I-I don’t want to think about that.”

  “You’d better think about it and stop slathering on suntan lotion and mixing stupid drinks like this is some sort of vacation.”

  “I can’t face Ria dying, too. Her sister’s gone and now this. I can’t deal with it.” He placed his glass on a table and covered his face with his hands. “I don’t want anyone else to die!”

  Linc blew out a breath. “Okay, okay. I understand. I don’t want that, either. So help me. Put that fantastic brain of yours to work. We have to come up with a defense.”

  Min wiped his hands down his cheeks and finally nodded.

  “Good. What can we do to rig a trap for anyone who comes here to take us away? What can we do?”

  Min glanced around. “I suppose we could make use of those decorations and drop it on them like a capture net.”

  Linc swallowed a lump of relief. Min was finally putting his mind to the task. He followed his direction to the wall where fishing nets artfully draped with other nautical items. “What if they have blasters?”

  “Then we might want to drop something heavier and knock them out.”

  Linc studied the tables and chairs. If they broke them apart, heavy tabletops might prove useful.

  Ria left the bathroom, attired in her earlier soft gray leggings and tunic. She looked more like her old self, vital and charged for action. Her appearance boosted his morale.

  “I wish we could hear some outside news,” she said, twisting her unruly hair to the back of her head.

  “I can help with that.” Min perked up and extracted small items from his many different pants pockets. “They don’t look like anything as separate pieces. That’s why I keep them this way. I suspected they might lock us away without our tech devices.”

  Ria’s hand went to her wrist. They had confiscated her comm.

  “What’s that?” Linc moved closer as Min assembled another handheld device from the many parts he had hidden on his body. It wasn’t as slick looking as his other one, but its rough appearance didn’t matter if it worked.

  “There. Let’s see if it will link to their wireless network.” He fiddled with it and nothing happened. “That’s whacked. I’ll have to make some adjustments.”

  “Hurry, we may not have much time,” Ria said.

  He moved to sit at a table and pulled it apart, reattaching sections and muttering.

  A scraping noise from the ceiling made them all glance up. A silver rectangle about one inch thick but ten feet wide lowered from a slot in the ceiling. Linc strode forward for a closer view. It clicked then stopped its descent.

  “It’s a screen,” Min said. “Amazing size. I’m impressed.”

  Ria came to Linc’s side. “I don’t think they’re trying to impress us.”

  Manson’s face appeared up close, then he stepped back and his torso became visible. He stood in the lab, one hand tucked in the pocket of his white coat.

  “There. The link is up. So, Dr. Butler and Ria, I wanted to give you both a front row seat to the greatest discovery that will occur in this century. This will also serve to record the success of my experiment.

  “First, we have the now fertilized ova that you both graciously made possible.” He gave a small bow. “I’ve inserted it into the nutrient-rich acceleration fluid. We’ve already achieved eight divisions and the genes have been activated. Here it is in this Life cube.” He held up a small, white square container.

  Ria snaked a hand through the crook of Linc’s arm, holding on so tightly her fingers dug into his skin.

  “I’m about to extract some tissue, after which, I’ll plot the DNA. Then I can graft the part that can control the virus into its DNA and we can test it on one of our captives.”

  “Louis, can you hear me? Please don’t do this. We’ll help you find another way,” Linc yelled.

  The scientist continued, unhearing. “This will take a while, so I’m going to turn off the monitor until the sequencing is complete and I’ve aligned the DNA into the virus. Feel free to enjoy the facilities while you wait.”

  He placed the cube into a tissue extractor and gave them a big smile. Then the screen went blank.

  “Son of a bitch,” Linc murmured, pounding a fist into his hand.

  Ria leaned her head against his shoulder. “He’s going to kill us, isn’t he?”

  He gave in to his impulse and pulled her into his embrace. She didn’t resist, hugging her arms around his waist as if holding to a life buoy. He stayed that way for several minutes, giving and taking comfort not available anywhere else in this madness.

  She raised her head after a time and stared at him. “Thank you. I needed that.”

  “Sure,” he said. “Me, too.”

  She went on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. He longed to kiss her lips. Have some sort of joy and deeper connection in what was likely their final hours. But the moment passed and she lowered her head.

  “I can’t believe what we’ve been through,” he said, releasing her. “To have it end here for nothing…”

  “I know. I really thought we were coming here to help save the world.” She put a hand to her forehead. “What a naive dumbass I am. It was a trap.”

  Min slapped the top of the table. “Damn it. I can’t get it working.”

  “Keep at it. I have faith in you,” Linc said. “We’ll need that if we have a hope of breaking out of here.”

  “I’d like to know what’s happening outside, too,” Ria said. “I wonder if Omaha is still shielded and my family is all right.”

  “Probably,” he said. “With unrest over the coup, they’ll stay in the bubble until it’s safe to come out.”

  “Don’t you have anyone you’re worried about?”

  “Yes, of course. I have friends and my parents. I also wish the IPP hadn’t fallen to the violent faction. My friend, Jack, is head of the original group. He could be in danger or even dead by now.”

  She moved to a chair at the table where Min worked, and Linc joined her. “Did you really think you could have changed the government there?”

  He made a triangle with his fingers on the tabletop. Those old emotions of seeking justice flickering like a flame struggling in dying embers. “I did. I wanted to make the Republic into what it was truly meant to be, a government of the people. It started that way, but the donation system created a monster. Corporations and banks gave more than anyone and received the benefits of those contributions. Laws changed to favor them. Breaches of public interest were ignored, and their representatives received positions in the higher levels of congress.

  “Then the ultra-right wing started changing the rules to give them more power because they had more money to donate, too. They sanctioned redistricting that gave poor people less and less representation and promoted laws that restricted assistance to those who needed social services. Poor camps formed, helped only by the benevolence of the Church of the South.” The bitter words poured from him in a rush.

  “I don’t understand the need for a Church of the South,” Min said. “Can’t you just say you’re a Christian?”

>   “When the Republic formed, they only sanctioned one definitive form of religion for the country and formed the Church of the South. They outlawed all others.”

  “I don’t understand how people accept that,” Ria said. “Don’t they want freedom?”

  He shrugged, not sure how to explain. “One of the reasons they warred was over religion. Don’t you remember?”

  “So you’re saying that because everyone in the South agrees on the same religion, it’s not a problem.” Min snapped two pieces together.

  “That’s a simplistic way of looking at it, but yes. That’s the idea.”

  “So if people born after the separation didn’t believe in that religion, what happens to them?” Ria asked.

  “They keep it to themselves or immigrate to the North. If they protest, they’re sent to a religious deviant prison.”

  “I wish we could all live together,” she said. “I think we’d be stronger together than apart.”

  “You’re probably right.” He smiled. “Maybe it’ll happen one day when the heated emotions of the past die away.”

  “Do you think that’s possible?” Min asked.

  “Abraham Lincoln, a past president my father was fond of, said, ‘My dream is of a place and a time where America will once again be seen as the last best hope of earth’.”

  Ria nodded. “I like that. Maybe we’ll die here, but I hope this crisis will serve to show the two sides that they need each other and can solve problems if they work together.”

  “Amen,” Linc said. “Too bad we’ll never live to see it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “I’ve successfully mapped the joined DNA and extracted the bit I’ll use in a serum to inactivate the replication and manipulations of the virus.” Manson’s eyes glittered with victory on the big screen. “What a momentous occasion. I’ve had a video link set up on the detention floor, so when I leave the lab, the next time you see me will be there, to test the serum on a live subject.”

  Ria sat between Min and Linc as they stared at the screen. It was a confusing conundrum. She wanted him to fail because no one should be given accolades for curing something they caused, and for what he’d taken from her. On the other hand, if the serum didn’t work, the cannibals would continue to wreak havoc on the world.

  Sure, infected individuals could be shot and killed, but that didn’t destroy the parasite and its deadly virus. As long as it existed, the infection would continue to spread. If unchecked, it could wipe out entire species.

  Manson left the screen. A few minutes later, the screen split and a scene from the detention floor appeared. Immediately, the overwhelming sound of the caged creatures humming and shrieking filled her ears and sent a chill creeping up her arms. That sound would be forever a harbinger of horror.

  The scientist moved to the front of one of the containment cubicles with its metal sides and bars across the front. The cell’s white paint had streaks of blood and claw marks. Five victims housed there stared with bulging eyes and panted through open mouths that dripped saliva. Their ripped and stained clothing barely covered their bodies, but she could still make out the remains of a business suit on two of them. Another had a flower print dress, and the last two uniforms of some type, too shredded to identify.

  Scarred, dirty arms reached through the bars, grasping for the humans as hungry eyes devoured the soldiers. The humming intensified until Manson ordered them sprayed with tranquilizers. One by one, the cannibals sank to the floor in heaps of bony limbs and rags.

  “Very good. Now you can hear me as I complete the experiment. This first specimen,” Manson said, pointing to the collapsed body of one of the men in a business suit, “came from a nearby town and was identified as Eddie Garner, a banking executive. He was detained about five miles from here along with the man in cell number two. They worked together and did not attack each other. His infection is about five days old as best we can tell. Since his confinement, he has not accepted regular food but has taken in water.

  “I will now inject him with the trial serum. If successful, we should begin to see a receding of the symptoms within a few minutes as the virus is deactivated and no longer able to control his brain.”

  One of the guards pulled the man’s arm though the bars, and Manson pressed the air-injector against his skin. A small hiss and it was done. The big man and the soldiers stepped to the side so the camera could capture changes as the man woke from the tranquilizer. Manson angled forward, almost poised on his toes in anticipation.

  “That’s mondo messed up,” Min said. “They’re still people, not guinea pigs.”

  “While we wait,” Manson said, “I can tell you that we have already designed a bullet type syringe for dispensing the cure to those already infected and not incarcerated.”

  “What about the oceans?” Linc asked. “Animals need a remedy, too.”

  “Maybe he plans to dump a big vat of it into the water or some other lameroid idea.” Min snorted. “What a dill.”

  A dill? She started to ask, then Manson spoke again.

  “I’m seeing signs of a return to consciousness.” He motioned. “Train the vid on his face then pan back as he rises. I want to have the whole effect on record.”

  Whoever controlled the recording complied, focusing on the sunken features covered with a scraggly growth of beard. The man’s eyelids fluttered, then his eyes opened and he struggled to rise. The other prisoners began moving, as well.

  He glanced about, a flicker of confusion in his eyes, then grasped bars with his hands and pulled to his feet. The picture widened to take in the prisoner with Manson standing to the side, an expectant expression glowing on his face.

  “Here we have specimen number one only a few minutes after an injection of the curing serum. You can tell he’s more sedate than before.” He stepped a little closer. “Sir, I’m Dr. Louis Manson. You were infected with a virus. Can you tell us how you feel?”

  The man’s eyes focused on the guards then moved to Manson. He blinked a few times and opened his mouth. A hideous roar issued forth, and the man lunged so quickly they were caught off guard. He grabbed Louis by the neck and squeezed, his teeth bared and his face a mask of aggression.

  Manson gurgled a scream, and a guard fired a blaster at the victim. He crumpled immediately, and Louis slid to the floor, wheezing and both hands clasped to his throat.

  Ria rose from her seat, a chill entered her body. “Did you see that? He was nearly killed. It didn’t work.”

  “It didn’t work,” Linc repeated as if in a daze.

  “Fucking dill deserved it.” Min snickered.

  Manson lay there, panting and holding his neck. The other prisoners went wild, screaming and shrieking as they banged on the bars. One of the soldiers sprayed them with a tranquilizer.

  Manson jabbed a finger at the dead man. “Take him to the freezers on thirteen with the rest of the failed subjects.”

  The big man stayed on the floor, rubbing his throat, as two guards dragged the body from the room. Manson’s face quivered, and his cheeks expanded on his blowing breaths. Finally, he rose and stumbled off camera.

  Linc looked at her. “Now what?”

  “He was so certain his idea would work. I wonder what went wrong?”

  “He might try again.” Linc’s hands on the table curled into fists.

  She let a hand fall to her stomach. “No.”

  He pushed back in his chair, got to his feet, and turned in a circle. “We can’t go like lambs. If they come for us, I’m fighting.”

  “With what?”

  “For a start, let’s rig those nets to hold one of these tables over the lift opening. When they enter, we can drop it on them.” He picked up one of the chairs. “I think I can break this apart and use the legs as clubs.”

  “Uh, they have blasters, Dope. Don’t forget that,” Min said.

  Ria went to the wall and began unfastening the fishnet decorations. “Then we should start with the table drop. If we knock t
hem out, we can take their blasters.”

  A loud groan brought their attention to the screen. Manson had returned to the lab, and the picture no longer split. One of the soldiers helped him to his desk chair.

  “I’m fine. Just leave,” Manson said, coughing and holding his throat.

  The other man hesitated. “Can I get you something?”

  “No. Go away!”

  The man cleared his throat. “You’ll still work on a cure though, right?”

  “Of course, you nit wit.” Manson snapped.

  The soldier left the view of the screen. The scientist sat at his desk for a few moments, his head in his hands, elbows braced on the surface. Machines in the labs whirred and clicked, lights flashed occasionally for no apparent reason.

  “What’s he going to do?” Linc released the chair he held and came to Ria’s side.

  “Maybe he has another idea. Plan B.”

  “I thought that was plan B. Remember, Plan A was to use our single DNA’s?”

  “I think he’s realizing he’s a mondo failure,” Min said. “He’s out of ideas and time.”

  “What will the Triumvirate do then?” she asked. “They don’t have a lot of options.”

  Manson dropped his hands. His dark skin had turned a sickly gray color, and his eyes looked hollow. She didn’t think he remembered the vid was still on. He lifted an arm and swept the 3D model of the virus from the table beside him. He put his hand over his eyes for a few seconds then opened a drawer on his desk and rummaged inside until he produced a vial and an air-injector.

  “What’s that?” Min asked.

  She shook her head, but a sinking sense of impending doom crashed upon her. No. A man with an ego as large as Manson’s would never…

  “He’s going to kill himself,” Linc whispered.

  She dropped the net, her gazed fixed to the screen as Louis loaded the syringe, stared at it a moment, then placed it on his inner arm and hit the dispense lever. It hissed, and he closed his eyes. Slowly, his head lowered to the desk, his arms went limp, and he grew still.