She sighed. “Yeah … we could have. If we’d known the microbes were here in the first place.”
“Go figure.” Mark laughed. “So what’s the plan now?”
Luna stood, stretched, and turned back to face him. “Well, I don’t know about you. But my plan is the same as it’s been for the past two years: cure myself.”
Mark nodded, “All right. If that’s the plan then you’ll probably need a lab and all the help you can get.” He smiled. “Fortunately for you, I just so happen to have both. Follow me.”
Chapter 34
When Manning had said to meet Rosa in the training facility, Keith never would have imagined that he would have to spar her. But seeing as how there wasn’t really anything he could do about it—other than try not to get hit—he decided to just go with the flow.
“So, you dispatched a team as soon as you received Miss McKelly’s call?” he asked, blocking a side kick aimed at his gut. Miss Hernandez was proving to be quite the adversary—something he found both intimidating and fascinating.
“Yes. That’s right,” Rosa replied, taking full advantage of Keith’s momentary loss of balance to press her attack. “She said she needed to speak with Mr. Landers immediately.”
Keith raised an eyebrow. “Did she say why she needed to speak to him?”
“She didn’t say specifically why. Just that she had something important for the chief. That, and she believed her life was in danger.” Rosa paused to block his counterattack then continued solemnly, “I guess she was right.”
Keith frowned. “Do you remember anything else? Anything out of the ordinary?”
Rosa shook her head. “No, not really. Except for the fact that she was already gone by the time our guys showed up. I mean, we were only four or five minutes away—”
“Which means that the Swampers must have already had eyes on her when she made the call,” Keith cut in.
“Exactly.”
“So either they were a sleeper cell planning this thing for a long time, or they got incredibly lucky.”
Rosa shrugged and leaned over the ropes of the sparring ring to pick up her water bottle. “Basically.”
“Well, hopefully we’ll take the Swamper gangs down here in the next few weeks,” Keith said, picking up his own canteen, “then we can all rest easy again.”
Rosa nodded and wiped away a trickle of water running down her chin, “Yeah, hopefully. Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful, Keith.”
“That’s all right. You’ve told me everything you know, and I’m sure it’ll help with the investigation in one way or another. Thank you for your time.”
“It was my pleasure,” she replied, giving him one of her rare smiles. “Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve had a decent workout.”
“Take care, Rosa. If anything else comes up, be sure to report it to either myself or Lieutenant Manning.”
“Will do, Keith,” she said, snapping a quick salute as he turned and made his way toward the firing range where the lieutenant was waiting for him.
He sighed. Most of what Agent Hernandez had told him was common knowledge. Hardly worth the pain and exertion it had taken to retrieve it. But just the same, he hoped that his report would somehow help the investigation teams piece together what happened to Miss McKelly. Which would put them that much closer to finding whoever was responsible.
Chapter 35
“Well, Luna, I’ve got some good news and some bad news,” Mark said, drawing her attention away from the holo-monitor she had been staring at for the past twenty minutes.
She twisted around in her seat and peered at him over the mismatched collection of retrofitted equipment cluttering the laboratory. “Okay, let’s hear it.”
“I’ll start with the good news,” Mark said, walking over to her. “Ed and I think that if this storm keeps up, the water level should rise enough for us to float the ship out of here.” He paused. “The bad news is that if Ed’s calculations are correct, it will take at least three more days of steady rainfall before we’ll be able to leave.”
Luna tapped a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “Well, I guess that means I’ll just have keep doing what I’ve been doing and hope for the best. Speaking of which …” she said, her voice trailing off, “I need your help with something.”
“With what?”
“With … drawing some blood,” she replied sheepishly.
She motioned to the chemical readouts flickering on her computer screen. “I need something to test this cure on, and since I don’t have any infected animals or much time to spare, I’ll need to use my own blood cells.”
“Doesn’t that seem a little—I don’t know—dangerous?” Mark said, crossing his arms. “I mean, how effective can your experiments be when you’re only testing them on blood samples?”
“Ed should be able to extrapolate a prediction model of all possible side effects by cross referencing my test results with the bio-scan I had him do this morning.” She paused to tuck a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s not exactly foolproof, but it’s all we’ve got right now”
“Okay, I’ll do it.” Mark said. “But we should probably head up to the sick bay; it’s more sterile.”
The sick bay was by no means the biggest room in the ship, but it was definitely the cleanest and most well-lit room Luna had seen since she’d come aboard. The small brightly illuminated room had sterile white cabinets, high-tech computer equipment, and clean hospital beds.
“Wow … where’d you get all of this stuff, Mark?” she asked in unabashed awe, making her way to one of the two beds.
“Here and there,” Mark replied casually, as if it were no big deal that—in the middle of a swamp—he had in his possession an advanced medical facility.
Luna eyed Mark curiously—there was still so much she didn’t know about him.
Mark walked over to her, set a tray down on the bed, and gave the mattress a gentle pat. “All right, have a seat.”
Luna hopped up on the hospital mattress.
“Okay, which arm?” Mark asked.
“The right,” she said, trying to keep calm as she rolled up her sleeve, exposing the pale skin beneath.
“You okay?” Mark asked, his voice cutting through her panic. “You’re shaking.”
“Yeah … I’m fine,” she managed to croak. “I … I just have a thing with needles … and blood.”
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
She nodded. “Yeah. We have to.”
“Don’t worry,” Mark said reassuringly, “I’ll be careful. You won’t even feel it.”
“Okay.,” she muttered, her heart pounding as he tied off her arm and disinfected the crook of her elbow with an anti-bacterial swab.
Easy. Easy, now. Breathe. Don’t forget to breathe. It’ll all be over in a second …
Despite Mark’s reassurance, she did feel it. And if not for his firm hand gently holding her arm in place, she probably would have jerked away. She began talking in an attempt to distract herself. “So, Mark, I was thinking, since Jack Anderson is your father, you must know a lot about him. … And I was just wondering if maybe you could tell me a little more about him? If you don’t mind talking about it, that is.”
“You’re just talking for the sake of talking, aren’t you?” Mark asked.
“Umm … no,” she lied. “I just really wanted to hear more about your dad. From what I’ve read, he seemed like he was a really great man—ow!”
“Sorry, sorry! I was just attaching a new vial,” Mark said, looking up at her apologetically.
She glanced down just in time to see her dark red blood filling the vial.
Big mistake.
“ … Mark,” she said slowly, unable to pull her eyes away from the blood pooling inside the clear tube, “I think I’m going to faint … ”
“Whoa! Hold on a second!” He reached out to catch her as she slumped forward.
“Ugh … I’m … I’m sorry,” she groaned whi
le the world danced in a sickening blur before her eyes. “This always happens to me. I should have warned you.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said. “Do you want to lie down?”
She nodded, “Yeah ... at least until this passes.”
“How long do you think that will take?”
“As long is it takes for you to finish getting those blood samples,” she replied, allowing Mark to help her down.
“How many samples do you need?” he asked, gently moving her arm closer.
“Four or five,” she replied reluctantly. “Better to have too many than not enough.”
Mark sighed. “All right … I’ll take a few more samples. Just sit tight, okay?”
“Mark,” she said as she felt his fingers brush against the needle, “do you think we could talk about your family now? That way I can have something to keep my mind occupied.”
Mark smiled and shook his head. “You don’t give up easy, do you?”
“Nope, Never,” she replied, returning his smile.
“Okay, fine. I guess we can. What do you want to know?”
“Well, what about your father? What was he really like?”
Mark sighed. “What was he really like? Well, I never actually knew him. Everything I know came from what my mother told me. She always said that he was pretty much the same person everywhere he went. It didn’t matter if he was on camera or at home. He was a good man. Right up until…” His voice trailed off.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It sounds like you really love him … even though you never knew him.”
“Yeah … I do.” Mark replied, switching out another vial.
Luna tried to ignore the pain in her arm. She cleared her throat. “Your dad was an amazing guy.”
“Yeah … he was.”
Mark swallowed and carefully removed the needle, quickly pressing a cottonball and an adhesive bandage over the small wound.
Luna was quiet for a while, not sure if she should question him further. But in the end her curiosity got the better of her and she asked, “What about your mom? What happened to her after you father … passed?”
“She got sick. Blister Wart disease, same as you. She died a few years after Dad did. I was five.”
“I’m so sorry, Mark.” Luna said.
“Yeah … me, too.” Mark cleared his throat and picked up the warm, blood-filled vials, placing them in her hand. “You and I both have work to do. Let’s just focus on that for now, okay?”
Luna licked her dry lips and nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Mark repeated. “Now let’s get on with it. The way I see it, you don’t have very much time left. So we need to get cracking if we’re going to finish this cure in time to save you. I, for one, have no interest in watching you turn into a mushroom.”
Luna smiled weakly and curled her clammy fingers around the vials of blood. “That makes two of us.”
She waited until her head stopped spinning, then carefully eased herself down off the bed and walked shakily to the door. Mark was right. They needed to focus on the task ahead. She didn’t need him to tell her that—her whole body had been saying the same thing for days.
She bit her lip and quickened her pace as she and Mark made their way back to the lab. She was running out of time.
She sighed and set the vials down on a clear section of counter and motioned for Mark to take a seat at the computer next to hers.
“Okay. Time to get moving.” She brushed her bangs out of her face and sat down in front of the computer. “Hey, Ed, you there?”
“Of course I am, Subject Luna. How may I be of service?” the AI replied.
“Power up the equipment. We’ve got work to do.”
Chapter 36
Keith couldn’t believe his bad luck. Sparring Rosa had been painful—he could still feel the bruises—but that paled in comparison with what he had just been assigned to do.
“Good morning, Rosa,” he said, trying to keep his voice level as he approached the receptionist’s desk. “Can you let the chief know I’m here?”
She nodded, “Sure thing, Keith. Head on in. I’ll buzz him and let him know you’re coming.”
“Thank you.”
She nodded again and tapped the comm button as he turned and strode deliberately to the polished, black doors of Landers’ office. He paused, took a deep breath, heard the click of disengaging locks, and stepped through the sliding doors.
Unlike the bustling lobby, the security chief’s office was quiet and calm. In fact, if it weren’t for the sound of his breathing and the soft hum of the giant-screen holo-monitors, the room would have been completely silent.
The chief spoke, “What do you want, Tagawa?”
Keith stiffened then forced himself to walk over to the desk where the chief sat, staring at him intently.
Even though Keith was a relatively new agent himself, he’d been around enough to know better than to meet the chief’s steely gaze. The stories of how he could force a suspect to talk simply by staring them into submission were legendary among the members of the Agency and its various sub-branches. To be safe, Keith decided to keep his eyes centered on Landers’ chin.
“Permission to speak freely, sir?” he asked, stopping three feet away from the heavy oak desk.
“Permission granted. Go ahead.”
Keith took a deep breath and forced himself to remain calm. “Sir, I’m here to express my reservations about this next assignment.”
Landers raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what exactly are your reservations, agent?”
“I feel that I am not qualified to carry it out, sir. As such, I request that you transfer the upcoming Chavé debriefing to another, more qualified agent.”
The chief blinked once, twice, and then stifled a laugh. “Is that what all this is about, Tagawa? Miss Chavé?”
“Yes. Yes, sir. It is,” he said indignantly.
“You know,” the chief replied, leaning back in his chair, a knowing expression playing across his usually stoic features, “before I can so much as consider doing what you’re asking me to do, I need to know exactly on what grounds you’re basing this request.”
Keith’s eyes narrowed. “I’m requesting a transfer based on the fact that she’s stalking me, sir.”
The Chief’s mouth twisted into a rare grin. “So, I take it you’ve had more trouble with her than you anticipated?”
Keith paused, remembering the dozens of phone calls, anonymous e-mails, and the last straw: the unauthorized entrance into his apartment.
“Yes, sir. I have. She’s been … incredibly hard to deter.”
“Didn’t I warn you way back when about the danger of messing with a woman’s heart?”
Keith sighed again. “Yes, sir. You did. I just assumed she would leave me alone after I stopped contacting her.”
“Well, I’m very sorry, Agent,” Landers said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk, “but I’m afraid I can’t transfer you off this assignment.”
“But, sir!”
“Now, now. Take it easy, Tagawa,” Landers replied, raising his hand before Keith could say anything more. “I have my reasons, so just cool it for a second.” Keith forced himself to comply, and the Chief continued. “I want you working on this because of your previous interactions with Miss Chavé. Of all my staff, you know her the best. She trusts you, Tagawa. And because of that trust, I’m sure she’ll be a lot more willing to tell us things we need to know.”
“I know she trusts me,” Keith said with an exasperated sigh, “I don’t trust her.”
“Well I’m sorry, Agent. But you’re just going to have to deal with it. This conversation is over.”
“Yes, sir. Understood, sir.” Keith replied begrudgingly. Once safely outside the office he reached up with both hands and ran them slowly down his face. Why? Why hadn’t he listened to the chief’s advice when he’d first cooked up the ask-Miss Chavé-out-on-a-date-so-I-can-grill-her-for-information plan?
; He shook his head and shuffled halfheartedly toward the elevators at the far end of the lobby. It was going to be a very long night.
Chapter 37
Luna stifled a groan and massaged her head with a trembling hand, her weary eyelids fluttering as she tried to read the analysis reports scrolling across her computer screen.
Something was wrong … terribly, terribly wrong. The problem was she didn’t know what. And there was no way she would ask Ed to do another bio-scan. Sure he could tell her exactly what the problem was. But he could tell Mark just as easily. And worrying him further was something she would rather avoid all together.
After all, her labored breathing was already causing him enough worries. Telling him about every little ache and pain would only make things worse. At least … that’s what she kept telling herself. Deep down inside, she was starting to feel very, very scared and would like nothing more than to tell him everything. She could almost feel his comforting arm on her shoulder—his deep, soothing voice, telling her that everything would be all right. …
She frowned, suddenly overcome with confusion. Why was she feeling this way? Why was she thinking this way? She barely knew Mark and yet. … In the past few days spent with him, she had felt the familiar tug of emotions pulling at her heart—emotions that she had refused to acknowledge ever since she’d first contracted the Blister Wart disease.
She sighed again. The reality of the situation was that it had taken nearly all of her strength and willpower just to get out of bed that morning. Ever since then she’d felt weak and lightheaded—as if she were about to faint. And then there was the twitching.
She pulled her hands away from her face and looked at them. They were trembling—and not just because she was tired and stressed. She knew in her gut that the uncontrollable shaking was something more serious than mere anxiety.
Luna tried to move her fingers and watched as they shakily curled into a quivering fist. She uncurled them and tried again, and observed the same results. There was no doubt about it. This was definitely something neurological.
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