Ill Wind

by Tal Turing

  There was a loud crack and then another and the far wall started to collapse and the entire structure cracked and formed gaps which the powerful wind exploited.

  At this point some of the occupants, mostly workers, started to stream out of the front door. The back exit which was to open up onto a large deck was not complete and the wood structure of the deck shivered. Upon seeing this, would-be escapees turned toward the front door and the first of these would just make it before the entire building, never designed for such pressure, collapsed and the wind carried the pulverized plaster and debris into the air and high upwards where it could be seen everywhere in the valley and beyond.

  Shelter

  Lynda took a second look at the mysterious, olive-skinned Transom asset who had retreated into a dark corner. It took all of her energy to keep the others on task and it had actually helped that Cyn had kept her distance, removing herself from a leadership role; the others were still convinced that all the corpers must be involved.

  Lynda would not be human if she had not had her own suspicions of Cyn, but the asset had certainly delivered when they needed her. She had gotten them out of the cell block, located incriminating evidence and found the communication center. And when they had received a response message, telling them to evacuate to the building's shelter, this strange girl had already located that as well. She really did seem to have eyes everywhere, but how? Was it somehow related to that little creature she had stashed away beneath her cowl? Was that thing somehow her scout, her familiar?

  Lynda had other concerns though. On the bright side, Marlee's father had promised to collect them before morning. On the flip side, he had looked half-crazy when he said it. Who knew what he might do.

  “I want to wait here for Daddy!” Marlee complained and Lynda turned to her and the others.

  “Your father was very clear, we should wait in the shelter.”

  “But it's so cramped and damp down there!” she protested.

  At that moment the lights and power died. The room was plunged into darkness and silence; they heard a thump and only the emergency lights returned.

  “You have no choice now,” Cyn announced from somewhere in the darkness, “the dome has failed and the evening storms are already approaching.”

  Donnie

  Donnie was first woken by members of the newly formed Humantis Security division. As Humantis House was not yet complete and Humantis Village was only in the planning phase, only executives were allowed to live within their glorious new dome.

  Donnie's father was such an executive but Donnie actually preferred their apartment building within Transom Dome as it provided easy access to many of the other officers as well as to his clients. And of course he recently required face-to-face meetings with Transom personnel as well.

  “What is it?” he demanded, “and what the hell is wrong with the wire? My AI isn't seeing anything but urgent messages and errors.”

  “There is some technical problem. We are told that resources are being redirected to the dome generators. Transom security is downstairs and they brought a hugger. You'd better talk to them, sir.”

  Donnie found Ed Harilla outside the building with several of his men.

  “What the hell is going on Eddie?!” Donnie demanded, walking up to the smaller man. “We have a right to...”

  “I was told to evacuate you to SkyTran Dome.” Ed said loudly, softening his voice only when Donnie stopped talking. “We are actually doing you a favor, there are members of other companies housed in our dome that will want to leave when they learn what is going on, but I simply can't transport them all.”

  “Evacuate? What do you mean?”

  “There is some problem with our dome and yours may have already failed. That's why we are shutting down all unnecessary energy expenditures.”

  “Oh my god!” Donnie moaned as if he had seen a ghost, “It's true. I have the messages from our security team over there. But no updates on what happened after the dome failed.”

  “They are trying to fix it,” Ed said patiently, “but we have issues over here as well and I can tell you that Transom House residents are already on their way to SkyTran Dome.”

  Edwyrd looked around and then confided, “Patron told me that this hugger could take some of your officers over there as well. We don't have room for everyone, so if you and your senior officers want to go with us, I can bring you. But if the dome fails, we will leave immediately and we will not return. It's up to you.”

  In the next thirty minutes, approximately fifty Humantis officers walked into the ground entrance of the hugger locomotive and ascended to the second level where they were moved to a holding car. The doors were closed behind them, then locked, and all of their cries and demands for information were ignored.

  Leaving Lab 8

  Cyn looked up at the large metal door to the hangar, it was nearly three stories high, and it was clear to her that it had been opened in recent weeks, perhaps to allow large pieces of equipment to be brought in. She had her own reasons for inspecting the door and its opening mechanism. With the building on emergency power, she had to make some changes in order for it to be usable.

  The wind had began to howl outside of the building and she had been forced to bring Wasp inside. It dutifully buzzed about in the attic, hovering near a vent where it could get a view of the outside, in case a vehicle should approach. So far none had. So far.

  She had found the Doctor's office, at least the one she assumed was his. It was the only one with a security vault. But her quick search found nothing interesting and she was unable to open the vault. But she had to try.

  Next, she turned her attention to the large, metal, room-sized structure in the center of the laboratory. It was one of the few pieces of equipment which was being fed emergency power. The thing had no view ports into what lie within and Cyn was able to find only two portals located on opposite sides of the structure. One door was sealed closed with no lock or obvious opening mechanism.

  The other portal was open, a ramp leading from the floor to its threshold, a green light blinking overhead. Past the portal was a small chamber, another sealed door and a series of shower heads.

  The strange chamber was littered with warning signs and a protocol manual lay nearby: AI devices were not allowed. Only one person could enter at a time and they had to remove all clothes and jewelry first. The list went on. It was most curious.

  Cynnamon's best guess was that it was some sort of clean room, a place sensitive to dirt and germs. But the bio-hazard signs implied there could be something dangerous within, perhaps this was the key to the Doctor's creations.

  Bug spied Lynda long before Cyn's eyes and ears could have. The woman was not sneaking up on her, but she was not trying to be noticed either.

  “Hi,” Cyn spoke even as she walked up the ramp to the portal of the chamber, hesitant to step through. If she were to find herself trapped inside, there might not be enough time to get out before the storm arrived. It was already arriving.

  “I came to fetch you,” Lynda explained. “I thought you were in the shelter, in some corner...how are you feeling?”

  Cyn hopped off the ramp, landing easily and gracefully, a marked improvement compared to her previous, shaky performances.

  “Much better, thank you,” Cyn answered as she looked briefly again through the entrance documentation. She made her decision, there was no time to investigate further but neither would she want the Doctor to reclaim his machine, whatever it did. She turned to the other woman.

  “Lynda, you need to return to the shelter. The weather is getting worse.”

  “What was that thing that you had in your hand? It looked like a large insect. Is it the reason you knew so much?”

  The building creaked as the wind howled.

  “Partly, but this isn't the time, right?” Cyn looked at her for the first time. Lynda's eyes showed both concern and determination. Inwardly, Cyn sighed. With one of the others, she might be able to coerce th
em to return to the shelter, but not with this one.

  “Then you can explain in the shelter, Miss Cynnamon.”

  “I still have some things to do up here and the longer we talk, the longer...”

  “Then I'll help you. We made a deal, we exit together or we don't. I take those sort of pacts very seriously...”

  It was then, suddenly, that Cyn remembered how one of the other girls had referred to Lynda. It had tickled the recesses of her conscious but she had been so distracted. Marlee had called her 'Lyn' rather than 'Lynda'. It had never occurred to Cynnamon that the two similar names might refer to the same person. Sister Gwenyth had told her about a woman named Lyn.

  Cyn pulled back the hood of her cowl, her eyes flashing.

  “You never told me what you do here in New Berlyn?” Cyn demanded.

  “I didn't,” Lynda responded quickly, “but at this point you owe me a many more answers than I owe you.”

  It was then that Wasp spotted the approaching vehicle, similar to the one which had brought her, perhaps the same one.

  “Someone is coming, you need to get downstairs and lock the door!” Cyn urged, pressing against Lynda's shoulder, trying to guide her out of the laboratory.

  “Oh, that's a clever ploy,” Lynda replied with a smile. “I'll run down right now.”

  “I'm serious, Lynda,” Cyn whispered as she reclaimed the guard's weapon.

  “So am I” Lynda replied ignoring the weapon as she approached.

  “Okay, okay. Well, it's only a single person. I can almost guess who this is...we have to hide.”

  The Doctor

  Dr Petyr couldn't risk bringing security to the lab. And it wasn't necessary as he had employed a single guard, Sams, a man he could trust to fiercely protect the Doctor's interests...and was rewarded well to do so.

  Petyr was not sure what was happening with the dome, no one was, but somehow it had failed and it was quite possible everything within would be destroyed over the next couple days if not tonight. Or, hopefully, the fools would fix the damn thing. Urbanic service squads were probably already on the way, they couldn't let a dome be lost! Petyr had never before heard of such a thing in Techview or any of Las Joyas.

  Even if the worst were to occur, the project, his project could recover. He had another bug lab back in Techview but he had brought his formulas and notes with him and kept them updated and safe in his vault. Everything else could be taken by the storm but he needed those data chips, he would never store them on the wire.

  "Sams! Where are you?" Petyr demanded as he moved through the entry area. The man was probably back with the girls. Petyr had spoken with him as to exactly what could and what could not be done with the patients and Sams knew to always wear a Transom Industries uniform for the benefit of those that might be released. Petyr had no interest in political games but he understood the importance of appeasing his parners. Their success was his success.

  Sams had not answered. He would never have fled but he might be drunk, with one of the girls, or both. The Doctor did not have time to determine which, but it had been interesting to watch the moral erosion of the man since he had been put in charge of the inmates. It was a fascinating example of the corruption of power - at one time Sams had been an ardent member of the Faithful Sons and a devout family man. Now he cared about little else other than med-patches, alcohol and women. Petyr wondered if the same type of personality change could be induced by the bugs.

  Well, if Sams did not show himself soon, a new guard might would be needed along with a new lab. It was no matter, the Doctor didn't need Sams in order to get his files and escape to a nearby, functional dome. Petyr had already made up his mind that he could not wait for the man, would not wait for him.

  Petyr moved through the double doors and into the large laboratory. From the far side of the room, he heard the creaking of metal and his eyes darted to the imposing hangar door which took up a large fraction of the wall.

  He slipped into his office, worked the security vault and removed a metal box from within. On a whim, he stuffed some random papers from his desk back into the space and locked it up again. He stepped back out into the laboratory and started back the way he came, to his vehicle.

  Petyr had reached the center of the room when he was halted by a sound, a voice. One that wasn't Sams.

  "I've been waiting for my pain patch, Doctor. You certainly took your time."

  A figure emerged out of the shadows. The girl wore a dark robe but her head was uncovered, he recognized her.

  "You are that Transom asset, the blind girl! What are you doing here?" He started to walk towards her. He couldn't see her hands as they were hidden by the robe. Had she recovered from her blindness? As he drew closer, the answer became clear, she certainly could see him and her eyes flashed with grim determination.

  “I'm waiting for you, of course.”

  He hesitated, unsure what to do. It was then that he perceived a slight motion behind him, felt a blow to the back of his skull and all went black.

  It seemed only moments later when he opened his eyes again. Something cold had been splashed into his face; he could feel droplets running down his cheeks, the throb of a lump on the back of his head, a stiffness in his neck and a heaviness in his shoulders. He tried to move but found his arms were locked in the restraints of a diagnostic machine. The Transom asset was standing nearby and there was someone else there as well - one of the prisoners. Who had released them? It must have been Sams.

  "Remember me doctor?" the girl, Lynda was her name, said coldly. She was holding an empty beaker. What the hell had she poured on him?

  "What's going on here?” he demanded. Then the damn woman struck his knee with a bar. He yelped in pain and stared back at her, pain fueling anger.

  "How did that feel?" the Transom woman asked approaching.

  "Loved it, thank you. Or were you speaking with the Doctor?" Lynda jeered.

  Then he heard it, the entire building shake and creak, forcing him to remember why he had come. The dome was gone and he needed to escape. But he had come for his research notes. His eyes found the metal box, the Transom girl had it now.

  "We have to go, Doctor" Cyn said, placing his precious box in her pack. "These examination tables are really remarkable. I haven't seen anything like them. Certainly I didn't know they had programmable restraints. Yours is set to release you in 15 minutes. We'll be gone by then. Until then, you can enjoy some quality time in your laboratory, with your work...and with the storm.”

  The doctor paused and listened. He could hear the click of the timer and the groan of the building.

  "Let me go now," he insisted confidently. "I have a vehicle. I'll take you where you want to go."

  "That sounds great. But you stay here, with your equipment. And we'll leave without you."

  The Transom girl turned to the other and spoke quietly to her.

  "We are done here, now we have to go."

  "Wait," insisted Petyr. "I can still help you. I'm an executive, I can open doors. I'm sure you have questions about what I've done here. You can share in the profit..."

  "Open doors?" laughed the girl with the club, "That's funny."

  He looked at the corporate asset, his voice calming, sure he could reason with her.

  "I know you're an asset," he continued, focusing on the olive skinned beauty, " you are at the bottom of the corporate ladder, a virtual slave. I've already moved others like you into corporate officership. I can do the same with you and right away."

  "You aren't important at all, Doctor" Cyn muttered as she withdrew and the other one followed. "And the only one who wants to be with you is Maltiempo itself."

  He watched, unbelieving, as the two girls hurried off.

  "25 minutes left Doctor!" One of them called back to him.

  Dead and Blown Away

  Dr. Petyr's back spasmed from his frantic attempts to break out of the examination station. He had even tried to hook the manual release mechanism with his foot,
but he had been unsuccessful. He looked at the chronometer again; five minutes until the chair released him. Then, hopefully, he would make it to the shelter. The dumb bitches obviously didn't know about the shelter.

  You seem lonely Doctor.

  Her voice! It echoed in the large room. Naturally she had returned, these assets would do anything to improve their station, Petyr assured himself.

  He tore his head around to the left and then to the right but didn't see anyone. Was she in the hallway? The storm was howling and the building was creaking but he could still hear her voice over it all, it echoed in the room, haunting him.

  "Where are you?" he called in a controlled, authoritative voice. "Release me and I'll help you. I swear, don't miss this chance.”

  He would kill her, Petyr had decided. If it was the last thing he ever did. He would break out of the chair and kill her. To him, now, her death was even more important than the shelter. No one screws with Maximilian Petyr. He fantasized about squeezing her neck and beating her face while he casually explained that there was a shelter within the building and that after she stopped breathing, he would be safe. And where the hell was Sams? Sams might have uses for her even after she was dead.

  Petyr heard a loud clunk and started, looked up. The hanger door was opening!

  "Oh god" he muttered looking again at the chronometer. The wind flew into the laboratory like a poltergeist, wildly knocking over stands and blowing flasks off tables.

  Here comes your best friend, Doctor, your only friend.

  As the door opened, the inside of the lab turned into a mini storm; papers exploded into the air; broken glass and chemicals sprayed the walls as well as his skin. The entire structure groaned under a new stress, an inside pressure, one that grew stronger as the door rose.

  The timer decremented, the 15 minutes had expired. Petyr struggled against the restraints with all his might even as bits of glass and debris started to flay his skin and clothes.