by Joshua Guess
Emily and Mason were talking, but Kell let their words fade into a formless buzz. He flipped to another page, then another.
That was when he saw it. The memory just needed some attention, a little jostling of the elbow to make it jump back out. It wasn’t the work itself that made him realize what he was looking at, though it played a part. It was a set of notations scribbled onto part of Mason’s test results. The content was nothing special, just a noted jotted in shorthand, but the way the person wrote, the style of the lettering and the pound sign next to it in reference to a hash on another page was familiar. He’d seen that style of handwriting, that same specific pound sign, before.
He bit his tongue to keep from shouting. His heart pounded in his chest. The instantaneous change in his body language was clear to the others, but Kell gave them the signal to keep talking as if nothing had happened.
Taking Mason’s book from the floor next to his seat, Kell opened it to one of the blank pages near the back and grabbed his pencil.
He wrote down the realization and showed it to Emily and Mason. Their eyes grew wide in a rare display of pure shock. It was Emily who took the book to write a reply.
You’re sure?
Kell nodded.
Emily tapped the pencil against her cheek as she thought, and then she began to write furiously. Kell didn’t know many details of the work she and Mason had done here, but he was aware enough to know that they had people in place for a variety of needs. He knew the men who had been taken prisoner were theirs, though Kell was ignorant of whether they represented the totality of spies sent by Haven.
When she was done, Kell took the book and read what she had written. Then he read it again, eyebrows raised.
The look he gave her was readable in its complexity only because they were lovers. The time spent with each other made them fluent in the language of each other’s body and expressions.
Kell’s face said, “Are you fucking serious? Like, for real? You’re sure this will work?”
And Emily’s responded with near-total certainty.
Mason chimed in, writing his own suggestion on the page. It was, in Kell’s estimation, kind of ridiculous as a plan and relied on a lot of luck.
But since he was going to go back to the lab and cut loose on those fucking doctors anyway, why not toss the dice?
Emily
The meeting was set for the next morning. She had no doubt the conversation from the previous night was scrutinized, but even if the listeners found the breaks in dialog weird, there was nothing in their words to incriminate anyone. Mason kept up a continuous babble. His years of doing this kind of work professionally—operating behind enemy lines, that is—made him especially talented at handling the strange left turns the world kept throwing at them.
Bobby showed up to the suite just before Emily and Kell left. On the surface, Bobby would escort Mason down to the area where the rest of the group from the convoy into New America was being held. Technically they weren’t prisoners, but the polite fiction was paper thin. When Emily saw the way Mason relaxed with Bobby, smiling in an easy way, pleasant warmth bloomed in her heart.
“Good for you,” she muttered as they headed down to see the rest of the group from Haven.
Then she closed the door, went back inside and got her game face on. Finding the right mindset was critical. Kell paced the room, eager to get in front of the group he had referred to as a ‘bunch of mad scientists with no idea what they’re doing’ during an angry rant the night before.
He was a man of extremes, generally speaking. Calm most of the time, even in combat to a large degree, but when his blood was up, Emily knew it could take a while for him to ease back down. This was a new experience for her. He was angry, sure, but not the blinding rage she’d seen him dredge up when someone he cared about was in danger. He seemed, well, fussy was the best word. As if the entire situation didn’t just piss him off, it insulted him on a deep level.
“Come here,” Emily said, letting herself slip into the cold place that kept her own anger from bubbling to the surface. She had to be the cool one right now. She put a hand on his forearm. “We should get going. They’re going to be waiting on us. Everything ready?”
The words meant more than casual observation might reveal. Kell nodded. He didn’t look a bit nervous, and Emily couldn’t decide if that was a good thing.
When they arrived at the lab, the doctors were indeed waiting. Kell walked over to the table and sat, but Emily waiting with crossed arms. “What we need to talk about is sensitive. You’ll want to send the guards out.”
Several of the doctors shared incredulous looks and began muttering, but Ian silenced them with a raised hand. “That seems suicidal on our part.”
Emily shrugged. “You took all our weapons when we came here. I don’t care if they can see us, but for your sake they shouldn’t be able to hear us.”
Ian frowned. “For our sake?”
“Yes,” Emily replied, refusing to explain further.
With a sigh, Ian signaled the guards to come over. “Please watch from the guard station until we’re done. Seal the door. If I give you the signal, hit the fire control override.” The guards paled but murmured assent.
“Satisfied?” Ian asked Emily, making a placating gesture. “In case you were wondering, the fire control system in here will dump carbon dioxide into the room. Do I need to explain what that will do?”
“No, I understand just fine, you condescending cunt,” Emily said placidly.
Ian jerked back as if slapped. “Excuse me? Who do you think you are?”
Emily set her fists on the table and leaned forward. “I’m the bitch who’s telling you to sit back and shut up. I can’t even describe how pissed I am that I’m even thinking about how dangerous what we’re about to say to you would be if it got out. I’m fucking furious, Ian. Because I’m not a piss-pot dictator like you and I actually give a shit about human life. Even the lives of your people, who are still my enemy.” She straightened and shook her head, then pointed at Kell. “I got nothing on how angry he is, though.”
And she sat down.
Ian and the other doctors were off balance. It wasn’t severe. They weren’t afraid of her. More like a good morning suddenly interrupted by an asshole in traffic nudging your bumper. Just a little shake that left you rattled. Before Ian could fully recover and remember he was supposed to be in charge of the room, Kell yanked the folder out of his bag and tossed it on the table.
“You’re using my work,” he said in a half-growl. “You’re trying to create a version of Chimera capable of spreading freely just like the plague. It’s supposed to replace what’s already inside people and do all the things my team originally thought the organism could do. I don’t know why you’d want to do something so stupid, but yeah, I figured it out.”
As expected, there was no surprise on the faces sitting across from her. They’d listened to Kell make the same revelation last night and these people weren’t the right kind of smart to alter their reactions to better hide what they did and didn’t know.
“Resilience,” Ian said. “That’s why we’re doing it. To give humanity a fighting chance of making it through this population bottleneck. That’s why we want your help. If we can get it right, Chimera will help us in ways we can’t even imagine.”
Kell slapped a hand on the table. “That’s the fucking point! We can’t imagine all the things it might do. That’s how we got in this mess in the first place. As you damn well know, since you motherfuckers are the ones who caused the plague in the first place.”
This time, there was surprise. That and fear, shock, and in the case of one man, the early signs of mild panic.
“I’m sorry?” Ian said.
Kell slid a few of the pages across the table. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but DARPA had me work on your test subject. The one who ended up being the petri dish for the plague. They gave me copies of all your notes and work. I pored over it all for hours every
day.. I recognize the handwriting and notations. At least one of you was on that project and given the work you’re doing now, I’d guess several. But you all know the truth. You know all this bullshit isn’t on me.”
Kell paused and inhaled through his nose. “Which isn’t the point. The fact that I know who you are doesn’t do anyone any good. It does mean you should fucking know better than to try this crap all over again. You’ve seen the results firsthand, and that was with a strain of Chimera a tenth as complex as what you’re working with here.”
Ian laced his fingers together in front of him. “I would tread very carefully, Doctor McDonald.”
Kell snorted a laugh. “Why? Who am I going to tell? You’ve got everyone here thinking I’m the big bad wolf here. Who would believe me if I did? The only people I care about knowing the truth already do and like Emily said we’re not inclined to start a civil war here. I don’t care what happens to you, but this information is too dangerous to let into the wild.”
“It is,” Ian said. “If it became known that we had material from the original project, that would be bad enough. Questions would be raised. If any of us were to be identified as members of the work group responsible for the plague, it would destroy what we’ve built here.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Kell said. “I spent years out there being terrified of what would happen if people found out my research was stolen to make the plague possible.”
“It wasn’t stolen,” an older woman on Ian’s side of the table said curtly. “You weren’t moving fast enough. We were employees just like you. It was our job.”
Ian swiped a hand in a cutting gesture. “Quiet.”
“My point,” Kell pressed on, “is that what you’re planning to do is so dangerous that I’m fucking thrilled to put all that aside to tell you to stop it. The work isn’t the problem. If anything, you’re way beyond even what I was able to do before the plague. Your technical expertise isn’t the problem, Chimera itself is. It adapts and changes in ways we have no ability to predict. The cure my partner and I created is as simple as it can possibly be for that reason. Chimera has extreme epigenetic shifts within a few generations. You can’t account for that, not without stripping the thing down to the point where it can’t do anything you want it to.”
“I don’t believe that,” Ian said. “We don’t believe that. What you’ve seen so far is just a fraction of the work we’ve done. Give it an honest effort, and I think we can convince you that it’s not only possible, but something we can finish in a relatively short time. Five or six months.”
Kell shook his head. “Even if you’re right, why bother? Chimera is already making people better. Why take the risk?”
Ian sighed. “As I said, resilience. We’ve seen mutated strains before. Not just Chimera, but other illnesses it can’t fight against. One bout of a serious pathogen like Ebola or Bubonic Plague could cripple the population to the point where we could no longer defend ourselves. What we’re trying to do here is craft something that will boost the human immune system and body to a point where it would take a true catastrophe to push us into extinction.”
Another catastrophe, Emily thought. She knew Kell well enough to get that he wasn’t buying into the sales pitch. Her own read on Ian and his doctors was that they believed it. Maybe they hadn’t at first, but tell yourself a lie long enough and it was almost inevitable that you began to see it as true.
“Tell me what you expect from us,” Ian said. “And let me remind you that your people are currently under guard in this facility.”
As threats went, it wasn’t subtle.
Kell, some of his energy dissipated, sighed. “I want to make you a deal. I’ll give your work a thorough, honest look. If you’ve done animal studies, I’ll check them out. Whatever it takes to convince you that I’m willing to admit I’m wrong if I see something more promising that what I’ve already looked at.”
Ian raised an eyebrow. “And in return? You’ll want your people freed, I suppose?”
“No,” Emily interjected. “Cards on the table here. They’re leverage and we know you won’t let them go. We’re trying to prevent a war, and stop you from doing something that may go off the rails badly enough to wipe out the remnants of humanity.”
Kell nodded in agreement. “What we want in exchange for my complete cooperation is a promise. I want your word that if I can’t see a way for this project to work safely, you abandon it.”
Ian opened his mouth to speak, but Kell put up a hand. “Right now isn’t the time to test me.” Ian blinked and closed his mouth. “Good. I’m not saying you’ll just take my word for it. You want me here because I’m an expert. If I come to the conclusion that this really is completely untenable, I’ll present evidence and make as strong a case as I can. All I’m asking you to do is behave in a logically consistent way and accept my advice as valid either way. Based on how you people have treated us, I think the odds on that are low.”
Emily tried not to smile at the rhetorical trap. He laid it bare for them; if his expertise was so valuable, that value wasn’t contingent on him giving them good news. If they ignored a conclusion they didn’t like, it was time to hang up the lab coat.
Kell had them. Emily read it on their faces. Not everyone was convinced, but enough shared sly glances and furtive nods that she felt good about their odds.
“We’ll discuss it,” Ian said, clearly irritated by the slowly rising tide of murmurs behind him. “Expect an answer tomorrow. Mason’s first test is this afternoon and we have preparations to make beforehand. Please keep any...theories you have to yourself.”
Emily stood first, putting out a hand to Kell. He rose unsteadily, though better than he had months before, and they left the room together. His hand enveloped hers, fingers twitching in excitement. She squeezed back.
A lesser woman might have felt slighted at how little input she had on the discussion, especially since this whole shell game was her idea. Emily didn’t care in the least. She didn’t need to be the hero who stood up to the bad guy.
She just wanted to get the damn job done, however she could.
Mason
It was not quite a gladiatorial arena, but the image wasn’t too far off. A quarter of one of the storage levels of Rebound had long ago been cleared, its cargo stacked more tightly and consolidated to open up floor space. Not just floor space, but containment. There were containers along one wall packed with zombies. A guard had cheerfully mentioned that there were several containment areas throughout the bunker, but that Mason shouldn’t worry because the others were kept refrigerated.
Mason wasn’t worried. He’d seen similar setups before. The only thing he felt was irritation at the backpack resting from his shoulders and the many wires snaking from it like the limbs of a mechanical octopus. There were leads on his head, chest, side, and back. Four of the wires led to probes inserted beneath his skin. Two into thick bands of scar tissue rife with Chimera, two into relatively undamaged skin. Part of the test rested on sampling the biochemistry happening at all the sites and comparing them.
Yay. Science.
As this wasn’t a test meant to push Mason to extremes, he was allowed a weapon. All the prep work required him to show up well ahead of time, which meant he’d only been able to see Kell and Emily for a few minutes before coming down here. Which was fine. It was plenty of time for them to tell him about the meeting and fill him in on certain details.
As a result—and despite the brutality about to happen—Mason was actually in a pretty good mood. He caught sight of Bobby returning from a quick trip to the surface just as he was about to start. Counting him, Kell, and Emily, the audience numbered seven people. None of the doctors were there in person. They would watch remotely, and probably obsess over the telemetry coming in from the backpack.
“Guess I better give them a show,” he mumbled. He cinched the backpack up as high as it would go, yanking the straps crisscrossing his chest tight. It was uncomfortable but not restrictive
and the last thing he wanted was for the damn thing to suddenly swing around and flop all over the place.
Mason picked up his weapon of choice, a simple pair of steel bars eighteen inches long, and walked toward the space set aside for the test. He ignored the stone-faced guards staying just a bit too close to Kell and Emily. With an effort of will, Mason fell into the weird mental space that had always been where he worked best. Unfocused enough to take in everything around him, but able to sharpen at a moment’s notice if something important came up.
“Thunderdome!” Mason shouted as he entered the cage.
Okay, calling it a cage was taking liberties. It was in fact a corridor of steel set in the large open space. A freestanding makeshift hallway without a top. Mason stood at one end. At the other, a steel door. A square window was cut into it, revealing a pair of zombies in the space beyond. That was just one of several spaces.
The door opened with no warning. One of the dead men who shambled out had seen better days. His flesh was withered and dry, clearly starved. Chimera kept the bodies going, but it needed fuel to do it. It was utterly naked, grayish skin covered in dust and grime, ragged black hair trailing dust as it shuffled forward.
Its companion was a New Breed, strong and tall. It moved with the grace and cunning typical of its kind.
“Hello, gorgeous,” Mason breathed.
The New Breed stayed back, biding its time. It would either attack while Mason was engaged with its buddy or wait until it took him down. He was mildly curious which it would be.
His first attack could have been lethal. The batons were essentially crowbars without the curve, heavy enough to crack a skull like an egg. Instead Mason stepped up to the zombie at the last second, throwing its aim off, and whipped his right hand up in an arc. The baton struck the elbow and shattered something important there. He could tell because though the dead man couldn’t feel pain, there were levels of damage that couldn’t be worked through. The thing’s left arm rose in bobbling flops, functionally dead from the elbow down.