The Lethal Agent (The Extraction Files Book 2)

by RS McCoy

  The longer she cut, the more minor blood vessels she severed, the more blood filled the space. When a scarlet drip escaped down the side of Aida’s neck, Calvin wiped it away with a small strip of white fabric. He had known she would bleed. He had known all along what this would be like.

  Mable reached her hand out for her own strip of fabric, using her left hand to absorb some of the blood while her right hand worked the scalpel deeper into the muscles.

  “Silas said the trick is to keep the flesh closed as long as possible, then remove the bug in a single quick motion. If it knows its location is compromised, it’ll separate the brainstem.”

  Mable fought back a shiver and the bile that threatened to climb into her throat. She focused on her task, slicing open the neck of this poor, brilliant researcher. “You’ve never done this, have you?”

  Calvin shook his head. “I assisted Alex’s extraction. I’ve never pulled a Slight on my own. No one has.”

  Mable knew that to be false, but she didn’t tell Calvin that. She felt the muscles of Aida’s neck giving way, the last fibers of muscle tissue severed by the scalpel.

  It was time.

  Mable pulled out the bloody blade of the scalpel and wiped it on the white fabric in her left hand before she set it on the floor to the side.

  Calvin released a haggard breath. He was a mess of nerves and fear and despair. Mable could see the veins bulging in his neck as his pulse raced.

  “You know where it is?” she asked him.

  Calvin swallowed down some of his fear. “Yeah, uh, the top two vertebra protect the brain stem. The Slight sits on the base. I’ll reach the clamp between the two vertebrae and pull it out without damaging the brain stem.”

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Just pull back the—give me a clear opening.” He used the back of his hand to wipe sweat from his forehead. His usually bright eyes were dark with what he was about to do.

  “Can you do this?” she asked him. He looked nothing if not distracted.

  Calvin licked his lips and nodded. Mable doubted he possessed the strength to speak. He pulled the shiny metal clamp from his body-suit pocket and held it in his shaking hand.

  This was the moment.

  Mable’s own heart hammered in her chest. She didn’t want to witness Aida’s death, much less contribute to it. But it was too late now. It had been too late the moment a Slight crawled into her brain. Without Arrenstein to perform the extraction, she was as good as dead. Mable was only helping to fulfill her certain future.

  Calvin hovered over Aida’s head, her dark bun far less organized than she would have ever allowed. He held the clamp mid-air but couldn’t move.

  Mable held out her hand. “Give it here.”

  He shook his head. “I have to do it,” he insisted, his voice little more than a croak.

  She wrapped his hand with hers. “Let me do it.” Without waiting for an answer, she twisted the clamp from his fingers. He resisted, but didn’t have the strength.

  Mable maneuvered the clamp onto her fingers and aimed it at the still-bleeding incision in Aida’s neck. With her left hand, she palpated along the spine to find the two vertebrae closest to the skull, the two that protected the brainstem and the Slight.

  “Lift up her shoulders,” she told him.

  “What?”

  “I need her head tilted down. Prop up her shoulders.”

  Calvin crawled to her side and slid his legs under her chest, carefully lowering her head back to the floor. The movement prompted several fresh trickles of blood along her neck. Calvin would have some explaining to do if anyone saw the bloodstains on the legs of his body suit. He did his best to use the fabric, but it was too late.

  Mable doubted he cared at all about the stains.

  Again, she found the two vertebrae, slightly farther apart with her head tilted away.

  Then, in a single, violent motion, Mable plunged the clamp into the blood-filled opening. Calvin groaned inches from her ear. Metal scraped bone. Blood poured out.

  Mable twisted her arm for better angle. Her left hand pressed against Aida’s shoulder for leverage.

  The clamp closed around something soft.

  A bug.

  Or brain tissue.

  A shrill whine sounded.

  Blood streamed from the incision.

  Aida was dying.

  Mable ripped the clamp out as quickly as she’d plunged it in.

  She stared in shock.

  There was a bug in her clamp.

  “Oh shit,” Calvin coughed out in shock.

  The Slight. Beautifully violet with the scarlet drip of blood. Shimmering and iridescent as it squirmed for its life, unable to free itself from the clamp.

  Mable jumped up from Aida’s lifeless body and threw the Slight to the floor. It scurried for a quick moment before her boot came crashing down on it, leaving little more than a purple and black smear across the floor.

  No sooner did she pull her foot away than the familiar cracking noise sounded, the remnants of the bug drying out. In less than a second, the bug was gone.

  Instead, there was only fine black dust.

  THEO

  LRF-RB-102

  SEPTEMBER 13, 2232

  An ecomm from Mable came in. Theo leapt at an opportunity for even a momentary break from his boring line-up of deep space probes.

  Then he read it.

  TO: DR. THEO KAUFMAN

  FROM: DR. MAGGIE KAUFMAN

  MSG: AP TO FIC. SLIGHT. FOUR ON 196. COMM SA.

  What the hell was that nonsense supposed to mean? Slight was the first word that hit him. It would mean little to anyone outside CPI, but to Theo and those in the know, it was the worst of the four.

  Four on 196.

  Aida’s planet? As in Perkins-196?

  AP. Aida Perkins.

  In one long, eternal moment, the frightening meaning of Mable’s message formed in his mind. Aida had a bug, a Slight. There were somehow bugs on her planet. Aida went to FIC, though Theo knew well it wasn’t to have Calvin’s embryo implanted.

  Comm SA. Silas Arrenstein. Clear enough.

  But what was he supposed to say? Why couldn’t Mable comm him herself?

  Theo’s tablet buzzed with another incoming ecomm.

  TO: DR. THEO KAUFMAN

  FROM: DR. MAGGIE KAUFMAN

  MSG: HOME. NOW.

  Finally, an ecomm he could understand. Theo closed out of his files, turned off the screen, and tucked his tablet under his arm as he walked out of his office.

  Dr. Lehmon watched as he passed and left the department. Theo hit the main corridor at a light jog he kept all the way to the personal-quarters sector.

  Screw the Scholars and their raised eyebrows as he loped past. They moved at a snail’s pace, absorbed in their tablets. They were blue-suited robots hindering his movement along the corridor.

  In the crowd, he saw Mable approaching, at least a quarter-mile down the corridor, heading toward the apartment. Her arms were crossed, and her eyes were down.

  Theo wanted to call out to her, to let her know he’d received her messages, but there were too many others. She was too far away.

  He quickened his pace and wove through the crowd as fast as his feet would carry him. His movement must have caught her eye. She looked up at him and started running.

  Theo was only vaguely aware that he had passed the door to the apartment. Instead, he kept moving, barreling forward until he collided with Mable. His arms flew around her waist and hers wrapped around his neck.

  Things with Mable had been less tense lately. She’d been more open, asked him more questions, let him into her life in whole new ways. But still, this was something bad. Theo knew her immediate need to see him wasn’t a sudden demolition of the walls she’d built up. Something had cracked her.

  In a single motion, Theo spun her around and moved her toward the apartment door. He scanned his palm and they poured inside, his hand on the small of her back. She moved with him,
her shoulder pressed to his chest, unified as they entered their little piece of home.

  “What happened?” he asked as she turned, her arms around his neck, her face against his chest. Through the fabric of her body suit, he could feel her shaking. Theo held her all the tighter. “Tell me what happened,” he prompted her again.

  “She had a Slight,” came the words, small and quiet.

  He knew that much already. A Slight left Aida with a grim prognosis, but Theo didn’t understand the connection. Why was she so shaken? What really happened?

  “You extracted it,” he said as the realization slammed against him like a meteor.

  Mable nodded against his chest and gripped the body suit at the back of his shoulders. In all likelihood, she’d just killed his sister.

  A knife slipped into his heart.

  “I need you to tell me what happened. Is she okay?”

  Mable peeled away from him and stared at her hands, fingers spread wide, like the answer might be there. “He couldn’t do it. I had to do it. She was bleeding. There was blood everywhere.” Her eyes never left her hands. She saw something there—blood maybe—that Theo couldn’t.

  When at last she looked up at him, her eyes were pools of sorrow. “It didn’t sever her brain stem, but she didn’t wake up. It might have poisoned her before I got it out. Calvin closed the incision and—”

  “Poisoned? Incision? You cut her open?” Theo considered she might be playing a trick on him, but the horror on her face was real.

  Mable snapped out of it, blinking madly several times before looking around. “We need to comm Arrenstein.”

  “Mable. Tell me. Is she going to wake up?” Theo wrung his hands together as he waited for the answer.

  But she only shrugged her shoulders and said, “I don’t know. We just have to wait.” Mable held her hand out, and when he didn’t move, she pulled his tablet from under his arm and set it on her desk.

  Dr. Arrenstein’s face hovered in the space above a moment later.

  “You all right?” he asked with tired eyes. “It’s four in the morning. What time is it there? You can’t comm me like this. You’ll blow your alias.”

  “Yeah, we’re fine. It’s uh, 1345. Sorry to wake you up, but this is big.” Mable set her hands on either side of the desk and spoke without pretense. “Did you know the lead Planetary Systems researcher was Theo’s sister?”

  Dr. Arrenstein’s eyes widened as he struggled to process the new information.

  “No. Nick checked. He said there weren’t any other Kaufmans on the LRF.”

  “She’s a Perkins now, but anyway. My point is, she’s had three bugs already. I just extracted a Slight from her.”

  “Jesus Christ. Three?”

  “Well, four now.”

  “Why didn’t Vince notify me?” Dr. Arrenstein rubbed his eyes. “What’s her status?”

  Mable looked back at Theo, her gaze hard, before she returned to address Dr. Arrenstein. “She didn’t wake up. Her vitals are stable, but there’s no reason she should still be unconscious.”

  “Where’s the bug?”

  “Uh, I stepped on it, and then it dissolved.”

  Dr. Arrenstein nodded like he’d expected it. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Maggie. Let me know if she does wake up. If not, I’ll make the arrangements to have her body sent back to Quincy.”

  Theo couldn’t hear any more. “She’s not your science project,” he yelled as he stepped into Dr. Arrenstein’s viewing area.

  Mable put a hand to his chest to silence him. “There’s more,” she continued. “Aida was researching a planet in the Cignus region.”

  “Okay?”

  “I’m sending you the files. The planet had several hundred native species, four of them I think you’ll recognize.” Mable waited for it to hit him.

  His eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open. “There are bugs on her planet?”

  “All four. The local wildlife has a chemical defense mechanism, some sort of toxin to avoid predation. That’s how—”

  “That’s how they kill the host,” Dr. Arrenstein finished for her. “I’ll notify Masry and get back to you. Good work. And tell Kaufman I’m sorry about his sister.”

  Theo clenched his fists. The holograph display disappeared.

  He was alone with Mable again.

  She turned to face him, her blonde hair sweeping across her forehead. “You all right?” she asked, her hand on his forearm with a light squeeze.

  Theo was many things, horrified, pissed off, afraid. He was far from all right. He shook his head.

  “I’m sorry about Aida,” she said. Theo knew Mable and Aida had hit it off. In fact, she probably knew Aida better than he did. They’d spent so little time together as adults.

  Theo gritted his teeth and tried to swallow his anger. It wasn’t Mable’s fault. She’d only done what was necessary. Mable didn’t kill his sister, a bug did. He said it in his head over and over.

  “Maybe she’ll wake up,” Mable offered.

  “Can I go see her?”

  “Not right now. Calvin closed her incision, we cleaned up her office. She’s sitting at her desk, so if she wakes up, she won’t know anything happened. If not, it’ll just look like she died in her sleep.”

  Theo felt waves of grief welling up already. While he’d spent the morning staring at useless probe specs, Mable and Calvin had been trying to save Aida. And now, after the fact, there was nothing he could do. Nothing except wait.

  AIDA

  LRF-PS-100

  SEPTEMBER 13, 2232

  Aida woke to the sound of the alarm on her tablet. She lifted her head off her desk and looked around her office, in shock that she’d fallen asleep at work.

  That wasn’t like her at all.

  To quiet the alarm, she tapped on the tablet screen and saw her appointment reminder.

  FIC.

  Fertility and Implantation Clinic.

  Her embryo. Her child.

  How many of her eggs had been discarded to isolate this one? How many of her future children were cast aside for the superior traits present in this one?

  If she didn’t go, this child would never live. She would be killing her own child.

  If she did, she would be with Sal forever. She would be locked into a loveless, lightless existence.

  Aida pushed from her chair in a hurry. She was already late. She marched her high heels into Calvin’s office and found him reading from his tablet, making occasional motions with his finger.

  “Can I ask you a question?” she asked, arms crossed at the door.

  He leaned back in his chair and smiled wide, like it had been weeks since he’d seen her, rather than hours. “Anything at all,” he offered.

  “Do you think Filmore will send a colony to 196?”

  Calvin chuckled. “That’s what you want to know?”

  “It is.”

  He stroked his jaw with his hand, looking more tired than she’d ever seen him. “It’s hard to say. Niemeyer made a pretty strong case. I think it could go either way.”

  Aida could see there was something he wasn’t saying.

  “Would you be open to looking at new planets?” she asked. “Would you start over?”

  “Of course. You’re the Lead. I would do anything you asked.” Aida couldn’t help but smile, knowing his loyalty had little to do with her position.

  She wanted to kiss him, to cross the narrow room and put her lips on his cheek. Instead, she said, “Thank you. You can take the rest of the day off. Would you tell the others?”

  “I already sent Kaufman home. I’ll tell Niemeyer. Have plans for the rest of the day?” His eyes bored into her like a drill, desperate for her answer.

  Aida knew what he wanted to know.

  “Yes, I have an appointment at FIC. Unfortunately, I’m not feeling well, so I’ll have to reschedule.”

  Calvin nodded, as if he had expected it. “For when?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe after a colony
has been successful for a few years,” she said, stealing his usual sly smile.

  “You’re not serious.” He was unable to keep the sheer joy from his face.

  Aida laughed. “I’m very serious. I have work to do.”

  Calvin crossed the room in a single step. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. “Is that the real reason?”

  “Of course it is,” she purred. Her heart slammed in her chest as it pressed against his. “I’m a Scholar,” she reminded him, her lips mere inches from his ear. “I’m just not a very good one.”

  Calvin tipped her over his arm and kissed the exposed skin of her neck, as if he hadn’t already tasted every inch of her. “Whatever you are, I’ll take it.”

  Aida smiled from ear to ear, unable to keep it hidden. She happily drowned in his presence, his closeness. Even if they had to keep their relationship a secret for the rest of their lives, even if she never had any children, she would be satisfied. A life with Calvin was worth losing everything else.

  She pushed against his chest and managed to get free of him. “Now, get back to work, Dr. Hill.”

  Calvin laughed and answered, “As you wish, Dr. Perkins. I’ll let you know if we get word from Filmore.”

  “Thank you. And I’ll be by around 2000 for dinner.”

  “Damn, so bossy,” he teased her. “Want to invite the Kaufmans?”

  “Yes, please.” She smiled. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  Aida retied the bun at the back of her head where so many hairs had escaped. For the next few hours, she would have to play the good Scholar. She had a few loose ends to tie up.

  MICHAEL

  LRF CORRIDOR

  SEPTEMBER 13, 2232

  After a full afternoon of department meetings and updates, Michael was burnt out. He couldn’t hear about one more minute discovery, see one more data chart, one more spreadsheet of useless numbers.