Raised by the Fox

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Raised by the Fox Page 5

by J Walker Bell


  ~~~~~~~~~~

  The minutes passed and Reeder remained unmoving. His eyes saw the message on the screen, but in his mind he continued to replay the writhing death of Madeira. In his mind the neon orange stain from his marking compound wrapped Madeira's entire body in a ghastly glow. One of Reeder's hands twitched and made a slow movement to the power button on the front of the monitor and blanked its' screen.

  In the now total darkness the image of Madeira expanded to fill the whole of Reeder's vision. He welcomed the apparition and the sense of accusation and condemnation brought with it. He wrapped himself in the pain and embraced the responsibility for Madeira's death. He accepted the fact that he would soon be fired, but not that Magnolia had to die, treated like an animal that would one day outlive its usefulness. He would not be around to help her by then, so he had to find a way to help her now.

  It didn't matter that he had not been the one to authorize the test on Madeira. He would have bet his own life that his marking compound worked without harm. The computer only confirmed his own deep seated belief. His compound was safe. In the darkness he fingered the small case of slides from the morgue. The bits of blood and flesh on those slides would tell him why Madeira died. He had a lot to do before he was tossed from the Enclave. There was Magnolia- and there was justice for Madeira. Reeder rose from his stool and felt his way to the Chem-lab. He turned on the desk lamp and powered up the machine.

  Danner waited until early the following morning to approach Reeder. He had worked through the night. She found him slumped at the Chem-lab counter with his head lying across his arms. The intercom was giving Enclave related news and other items of interest.

  "... One hundred thousand acres of Savior Vine forest in New Mexico was destroyed last week during an encroachment of Dactylotum Bicolor, locally known as the Rainbow Locust. The spring migration was stopped by the use of a new Enclave product. Yesterday the Enclave Board of Directors announced an agreement with the Southwest Savior Vine Growers Association to mass produce the Enclave product as protection for the fifty million acres of Savior Vine under cultivation in the Southwest. In other news, the World Nutrition Corporation announced that its newest breakfast bar would contain up to twenty percent non-insect based ingredients. The new ..."

  Danner flipped off the intercom. Reeder opened one bleary eye, and then closed it again. Danner began massaging Reeder's back and shoulders. He let her work the stiffness out of cramped muscles.

  "The series checked out perfectly," he muttered into his crossed arms. Last night I backtracked as far as the post-Discovery simulations and there was nothing ... Nothing! ... that would have caused a sneeze, much less ..." Reeder didn't finish the sentence. He looked tired and distraught. To Danner it appeared that he had forgotten for the moment that he had not authorized the test in the first place. "What do you think it could have been, Clara?"

  Danner allowed a triumphant smile to reach her lips while her hands continued their work. "I don't know, Jason. Maybe the experimental was carrying something we didn't know about. Perhaps the autopsy will tell us something."

  "Maybe," he conceded, raising his head from his arms. "Don't stop," he asked, when Danner halted her massaging. "That feels good." He was silent a moment. "In any event, it's obvious I'm going to have to perform the complete Discovery procedure on the compound to make absolutely sure I haven't missed anything." Danner's hands had stopped their massaging again. "But that could take weeks."

  "I can't risk anything less than that."

  "Really, Jay, I don't see where that's necessary. I'm sure something will turn up in the autopsy." Danner could feel the muscles tighten again in Reeder's back. She wondered if he suspected anything.

  "Something already has," he said. Danner frowned. She did not understand this mood Reeder was in, and she did not like not being in control.

  "Impossible, the autopsy won't be done until this morning."

  "I know, I saw the schedule. The attending physician, this guy Sargent, is a close friend of yours, isn't he?" Danner didn't like this at all. She tried to turn Reeder around to face her, but he stubbornly refused to move. "Isn't he?" He demanded again.

  "What the hell is the matter with you?" She demanded in return, her aggravation building.

  "I didn't wait for the autopsy," he said to the table. His arms had dropped to his lap. "I drew samples from Damon's body last night and ran my own tests."

  "Bullshit!" Danner exclaimed. She was starting to get very alarmed. "You have no authority ..."

  "I'm well known in the 'X' ward." Reeder looked at Danner for the first time. Oh, shit, he's snapped, Danner thought, seeing the feral look in his eyes. She glanced at the closed door across the room. No, she told herself, I can handle this situation. I won't run. "Well, it was a foolish thing to do, Jay," she admonished, trying to regain her edge. Admit to nothing, she told herself firmly.

  "Like to know what I found out?" His mouth cocked into a half smile. Then he leaped at her.

  Reeder grabbed Danner by the front of her smock and tried to yank her closer to him, but the forward motion of his rush actually pushed her away. Danner was startled but not defenseless. She staggered back two steps, Reeder following, his hand still gripping her smock. She kicked at his exposed knee and succeeded in striking a glancing blow. Reeder grunted at the pain and bent the weakened knee. Danner followed up the kick by striking the base of his neck with her hand as hard as she could. Reeder buckled, but did not relinquish his hold, and he dragged her to the floor with him. The pain from the blow to his neck coursed through his spine. He refused to let anything interfere with his single-minded purpose, however. From the floor Reeder had a large weight advantage and better leverage. He pushed to his knees, taking a couple more ineffectual blows from Danner in the process, and dragged her up against the side of the table. Cloth ripped and Danner grunted when her head struck the table's edge. She lost consciousness.

  When Danner came to she was still lying on the floor half propped up against the metal side of the table. Her head throbbed where it had struck the table, but when she tried to reach up and feel it she found her hands tied behind her back."Don't try to get up," Reeder told her. He was sitting on the Chem-lab stool, which he had pulled around the table and in front of her. "The cord is tied to the leg of the table. It's much too heavy to move."

  "I don't know what the hell you think you're doing," Danner snarled at him. She had to stop for breath before continuing, however. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the wooziness she felt.

  "I'm about to tell you that, if you'll let me," he said mildly. "If you don't stay still you may faint or throw up. You took a pretty nasty hit on the head." Reeder was feeling a bit light headed himself. Lack of sleep, he told himself. It was more than that, though. His mind felt as if it were poised on the cusp of some great precipice. He did not know if he could go through with his plans. He looked at Danner. One side of her head was swollen. A few drops of blood still trickled from her scalp to her neck. Reeder could clearly see the large bruise because he had shaved the hair from around it. There was no turning back. He took a deep breath.

  "Doctor Danner," he began, as if beginning a professional discussion of some topic about which they disagreed, "do you agree that it is both unethical and immoral to perform experiments on human subjects without applying proper and safe medical and scientific procedures?"

  "I think you're the one who got the crack on the head, Doctor." Danner practically spit the last word. Reeder shook his head. He glanced at his watch. Danner liked directness. Well, he'd be direct.

  "You killed a man yesterday." Reeder watched Danner's face. He wanted to know if there was any remorse. Did Danner feel any guilt at all at what she'd done?

  "They are going to take you away and lock you in a little white room for the rest of your life, Jay. You'll never be outside again." All Reeder saw was contempt for him, but he had to do this right.

  "You imbued my marking compound with your neutralizer and used it
on a man without running a single test on it. How could you do that?"

  "You are not going to pin this on me. Is that what you are up to? Just remember, your code authorized the test."

  "Do you know how many tests it would have taken you to discover how dangerous the combination was?" Reeder's voice rose as he thought about it. "One! One, dammit!" Reeder made himself calm down. "Fifteen minutes after I started the first test last night I knew the combination was fatal."

  Danner just glared at him. It was useless to reason with her. He knew that before he started, but he felt he had had to try. She was really not going to like the alternative. He glanced at his watch again. It was time.

  Reeder rose from the stool. Danner watched him go around the table until he was out of sight. When he returned he had a petri dish in one hand and a thin surgical applicator tool in the other. Danner watched him warily.

  "I could have done this while you were unconscious, but I wanted to make sure you understand and believe what I am going to do." He held the petri dish where Danner could see the label: "Highly dangerous, special handling only."

  "I stole this last night," he told her. "The small print is harder to read, but I think you can see it well enough to follow along. This dish contains live larvae of the species Pselliopus Cinctus. You might be interested to know that these came from eggs drawn at great sacrifice from a lady by the name of Magnolia. They've been frozen, you see, but I've had them sitting out in the open now long enough for the little fellows to be fully active."

  Reeder looked at Danner over the petri dish. Her eyes were wide. Reeder had her full attention now, but he did not think she understood yet what was about to happen. "Of course, you can't see the larvae with the naked eye. They are quite small." Reeder held up the instrument in his other hand.

  "But with this surgical applicator, which you are no doubt familiar, I can collect and deposit them."

  Reeder set the petri dish down on the table above Danner's head. Danner seemed to suddenly realize what Reeder planned to do. She started to struggle.

  "Shit, Reeder, you don't want to do this." Reeder removed the top of the petri dish and slid the base under the microscope he'd placed there. "This is murder, Reeder, do you realize that? Murder!" Reeder Looked carefully through the microscope and drew the larvae into the applicator.

  "Please, Jay ... Jason, think about this ... Please!" Gently but firmly taking hold of Danner's head to keep her from thrashing around, Reeder cautiously worked the applicator over the bruise on her head. A quick look at the applicator under the microscope confirmed that he had deposited all the larvae. Danner began to scream and blubber, but Reeder ignored it. He carefully sterilized both the applicator and the petri dish, and made no effort to silence Danner. He returned to the stool. It was barely 6:00am.

  There would be no one in this part of the building that early, and Reeder had already arranged for Gamesly to come by the lab at 6:30am. They had plenty of time.

  Danner finally wound down, but Reeder could see it was only temporary. Danner looked like she was gathering energy to really explode. The fits of tears had stopped; so had the pleading. Next would be either hysteria or violent rage. Neither was desirable.

  "Before you start that noise again, stay sane long enough for me to tell you what this is." Reeder showed her the syringe he'd brought back to the stool with him. "Remember my marking compound? Well, I discovered that the anesthetizing fluid used by the assassin bug, which you are now infected with, is very similar to the anesthetizing fluid used by the flesh fly."

  Reeder wasn't sure if Danner was hearing him. Her shoulders were hunched and her head was bent forward at an uncomfortable angle. "I can feel them," she whispered.

  "I can find them, mark them, with this," he told her, holding out the syringe. She looked at his hand.

  "Please," she said. Reeder nodded.

  "There's a catch." He paused to make sure she was still listening.

  "Last night I was so ... " Reeder forced down the black emotions that rose in him. "... unhappy ... at your impatience, callousness, and greed, that I became driven to prove how little time had really been needed not only to correct the flaws in the combination of my marking compound and your neutralizer, but to improve on it." Reeder looked down at the syringe in his hand. Danner's eyes followed his.

  "This is the result. The combination should not only mark the larvae, but immobilize them for a period of time sufficient to destroy or remove them. The computer predicts a good chance that it is safe to use. Of course, there wasn't time to run the complete series of tests to be sure."

  Danner shuddered. Magnolia had reported that she could feel them moving, but that had to be imagination. Imagination was one of the deadlier symptoms of the infestation. "This is going to be your choice, Clara, a choice Madeira did not have."

  "Marking ... compound ... only ... safe." Reeder shook his head.

  "I'm sorry, Clara, but that is not an option. I also did a complete file wipe of both your records and mine last night. What I have here is the only remaining evidence of either my marking compound or your neutralizer." Reeder shrugged. "Of course, I can duplicate the make-up of the marking compound from memory- given a few hours to work on it. By that time Pselliopus Cinctus will have metamorphosed into the adult assassin bug and worked their hungry way through the capillary blood vessels in your scalp to the deeper veins and into the brain itself. Even now the larvae will be dispersing to find suitable places to metamorphose." Danner began to pant as Reeder talked, breathing air in gulps, and then forcing it out in one breath. Reeder continued to hold out the syringe. "Do you want me to use this or not, Clara?"

  Gamesly opened the door to Reeder's lab. She saw Reeder standing over Danner with a syringe in his hand. Danner was disheveled and bloody.

  "Reeder!" She shouted. Reeder and Danner both started. Reacting quickly, Gamesly's hand shot out and hit the intercom button on the wall. "Emergency in the Reeder lab! I need Medical and Security NOW!"

  They were at a standoff. Gamesly still stood at the door of the lab, with gun waving Security officers stacked up behind her so thick the Medical staff could not see into the room. Danner was still tied to the table, shivering uncontrollably and trying not to go into shock. Reeder remained standing beside Danner, holding the syringe over the sterilizer on the table.

  Reeder had threatened to smash the syringe in the sterilizer. Danner had screamed in panic for Gamesly to stop the rush of Security. When the officers drew their guns, anyway, Reeder turned the syringe on Danner, poising the needle over the bruise on Danner's scalp. The command in Gamesly's voice had stopped it from going any further. Gamesly had listened in silence to Reeder explain what the syringe held and the decision he was waiting on from Danner. He also explained that he was prepared to drive the syringe deep into Danner's skull, killing her, if they interfered.

  "Decide, Clara," Reeder urged her gently. Danner's eyes locked on Gamesly's. Gamesly nodded. If Danner refused the treatment then she would find herself in 'X' quarters, no more than a celebrated experimental. Danner

  would rather be dead, and Gamesly knew that.

  "Do it, then," Danner decided.

  Reeder carefully slipped the needle under the skin. Danner flinched but held still while Reeder slipped the needle in and out, leaking a little of the fluid into the skin. The room was completely silent save for Danner's harsh breathing. Reeder put the syringe on the table. He smiled a tired smile as a narrow band of orange began to appear, marking the location of the larvae. Surgeons would be able to use standard exploratory tools to get any of the deeper infestations.

  "How do you feel, Clara?" Gamesly called from across the room.

  "Like shit," Danner said weakly. "Can you see the bastards, Reeder?"

  "Everything is working just fine," he said.

  "Then get them out of me," she pleaded with Gamesly.

  Reeder held up a hand when Gamesly started to signal the medics. Gamesly paused. "What, Reeder?" She was imp
atient to get medical attention to Danner, and Security to Reeder.

  "Danner goes into isolation and observation for at least forty-eight hours?"

  "That's standard procedure, Reeder, you know that."

  "I want time to reproduce the combination. Two days is sufficient. Then you'll have it for a full cycle of tests and you can do with me what you want."

  "You won't be working here any more, Reeder, I hope you realize that." Gamesly could empathize with Reeder, but that did not change what he had done.

  "I want Magnolia to be the next recipient." Reeder's voice took on an edge of desperation. "Promise me that, Dolores." Gamesly regarded him without speaking for a long moment.

  "Promise me, Doctor. If I am no longer ... here ... then I will have to trust your word."

  Finally Gamesly nodded. "Magnolia will be treated immediately after testing. You have my word." Reeder visibly slumped. Gamesly thought he would fall, but he pulled himself upright at the last minute. Gamesly indicated Danner. "May we?"

  Reeder nodded. It didn't matter now what they did to him.

  THE END

  Return to ToC

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Introduction. "Outpost" was the first story of mine which included artwork. I was having trouble visualizing the craft where the story takes place and finally had to draw it out using a Computer-Aided Design (CAD) program. On a whim I included the design in the submission, and it made it into the magazine. "Outpost" is a love story. Of sorts.

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