and cut out.
Luckily the darkness didn’t last long, not long enough for Nikki to panic. Emergency lights, mounted in the corners of the room, cut in. The lab equipment cast alien shadows under the oblique illumination.
The floor was steady after that single impact: no aftershocks or tremors. Nikki shook her head to clear it. Her head hurt as though a giant had slapped her simultaneously on both ears.
Toshikazu was looking at her in shock. “Earthquake …” She said, her voice sounding muffled in her own ears. What else could it be? part of her mind asked. japan’s on the Pacific Ring of Fire, after all…
But Toshikazu was shaking his head as he got to his feet. “No earthquake. Explosion,” he told her. “Next door.”
“Next ..?.” she started, but he didn’t wait to hear her out. He was already on his way out the door.
She followed him into the hallway. The overhead lights were out here, too, and only half of the emergency lights seemed to be working. Explosion ? What the hell could have happened ? she asked herself. She stopped in her tracks for a moment — maybe running towards an explosion in a P3 containment lab isn’t such a good idea — but Toshikazu hadn’t slackened his pace, and she couldn’t very well let her friend go on alone. She hurried to catch up.
The corridor ended at a large powered sliding door marked with the international icon meaning “Do Not Enter.” Beneath that were the kanji characters for “Authorized Personnel Only.” The entire door and the frame around it were painted black, making the red icon and lettering stand out in harsh contrast. Beyond here was the Special Projects area, strictly off limits to the members of Nikki’s department. To ensure that, the door was always locked, and could only opened by inserting a valid identification card into a reader slot beside the door and punching a multi-digit code into the associated keypad.
That was the way it normally worked. But what about in an emergency? Nikki couldn’t believe that the designers wouldn’t have anticipated some kind of disaster. She walked closer to the control keypad. Yes, there was a single key that was flashing red. An emergency release?
She glanced over at Toshikazu, her expression a question. He was looking at the keypad too. He shrugged and nodded. What have I got to lose? She reached out and pressed the flashing key.
The door slid back silently, and acrid smoke rolled out into the hallway. Instantly, Nikki’s eyes began to water. The smoke caught in her throat. Toxic? she asked herself. Probably not. In any case, she didn’t know where to begin looking for gas masks.
Toshikazu’s eyes were streaming too, but he stopped only long enough to pull a cloth handkerchief from his pocket and hold it over his mouth and nose, before heading on. Nikki hesitated again. Dammit, she swore to herself, fools rush in. Why not wait for security to handle it? j She knew the answer, of course. The Special Projects team worked late as often as Group Five did, maybe more often. That meant the odds were good there were people in there, maybe trapped, maybe injured, maybe dying. Toshikazu couldn’t just leave them to their fate, j and neither could she. She searched her pockets for a handkerchief. Nothing. She grabbed the lapel of her white labcoat and folded it over her mouth. Not good, but better than nothing.
With the security door open, the smoke was thinning out, but it still cut visibility down to a couple of meters. Toshikazu was a dark shape ahead of her.
She caught up with him when he stopped at a T-intersection in the hallway. She looked left and right. The smoke seemed thicker to the left. She grabbed his arm almost dragged him after her. “This way,” she told him needlessly.
There was another security door ahead, like the one They’d passed through except that this one was open. She’d guessed right, Nikki saw at once, the smoke was ruining from this direction. Almost subliminally, she heard sharp cracks from ahead. Small secondary explosIO N S ? part of her mind speculated. The smoke seemed to lie thinner near the floor, so she moved forward in a crouch.
The door opened into a lab very much like Nikki’s own. The same marble-topped benches, the same medusa’s-heads of tubing and electronics. Only the double rows of genetic analyzers were missing. She It looked around quickly. Nobody here. Good. To her right was another doorway, the security door again standing open. She glanced back to make sure that Toshikazu was still with her, then hurried through it.
Another lab, similar to the first… Except that this one looked like a bomb had gone off it in. (Which might not be too far wrong, she told herself.) Small fires were burning everywhere, pouring the acrid smoke into the air, cutting visibility to almost nothing. The floor was blackened and buckled, and the acoustic tile of the ceiling had collapsed. Light fixtures hung by exposed cables, their plastic fittings melting in the flames.
Without thinking, Nikki took a step forward, then slopped as something crunched under her feet. She looked down. It was broken glass. Broken? Almost powdered, she told herself. The blast from the explosion must have broken every bit of glassware in the place.
She felt Toshikazu’s presence beside her. “What the hell happened here?” she asked him.
He shrugged. “There’s nothing we use that could cause an explosion like that.”
There were more of the sharp cracks that Nikki had heard earlier. What were they? she asked herself. Secondary explosions? But the fire was here …
Toshikazu grabbed her arm, hard enough to hurt. She turned to tell him to let go.
And then she saw her friend was pointing, to the left of the door. She spun in the direction he was indicating.
The air left her lungs in a gasp of surprise. A fluke air current had thinned the smoke so that they could see to the far side of the lab. Instead of the familiar white panelling, the entire wall seemed to be made out of glass. No, not glass, part of Nikki’s mind amended, something stronger or it would have been blown out by the explosion. On the other side of the transparent barrier was yet another lab. She recognized its layout at once. Fume hoods, acrylic “glove boxes,” sealed enclosures with remote manipulators like the arms of dismembered robots. A P3 containment lab, it couldn’t be anything else. For an instant she congratulated herself on having guessed right.
But only for an instant. Then horror took over. The P3 lab was ablaze, too. The room beyond the glass wall was filled with billowing black smoke, shot through with red tongues of flame. Not just the small, isolated fires of this room; the entire lab was an inferno.
And, worst of all, there were figures moving in the smoke. She couldn’t make them out clearly, Thank God I can’t, she thought, but they were definitely there. Human shapes thrashing in the thick smoke. Choking, dying …
She tried to run forward, but Toshikazu’s firm grip on her arm held her back. “No,” he told her quietly, “it’s no use.”
She pulled against his grip once, then stopped. 1 What did she think she was going to do anyway? j Smash the glass-like wall that had resisted an explosion? And then what: rush into a compromised P3 lab? If there’s P3 containment, it’s there for a reason.
“What do we do?” she wailed.
Toshikazu didn’t have time to answer. Sharp cracks sounded to their right, followed by a man’s scream of agony. Both of them spun towards the sounds.
For the first time, Nikki realized what she was hearing. Shots! But what…? Wreckers?
Something whip-cracked past her ear, slammed into the wall behind her. Beside her, Toshikazu flung himself to the floor. “Get down,” he hissed. “Nikki,get down.”
But she stood frozen. There was another burst of gunshots, then figures moved in the smoke at the far end of the lab. Someone emerged.
Black-clad, head to toe, only the area around his eyes was visible. A ninjal Nikki’s shocked brain guessed. But no, the dark figure didn’t match the images of the semi-mythical assassins that she’d seen in books and on the movie screen. The clothes weren’t I lie simple garments of light cotton that she associated with ninjas. This man wore a black jumpsuit, covered with pouches and pockets closed with velcro.
Three small spheres, not much larger than golf balls, hung from a bandolier that crossed his chest. (Grenades?) On his head he wore a tight-fitting black ski mask, not the wrapped cloth of a ninja. The eyes that looked at her were cold and hard — western, not oriental.
It took only an instant for her brain to register these details. Then she saw the weapon in the man’s hand. Something like a pistol, not large but somehow more dangerous for its small size. The barrel was pointing directly between her eyes.
She wanted to say something, to plead with the black-clad man for her life. But the words were frozen in her throat. An ice-cold hand seemed to squeeze her heart. I’m going to die. Time seemed to slow down around her, almost like a movie run in slow motion. She watched, unable to move, as the man tightened his grip on the small weapon. His finger touched the trigger, began to tighten …
“Sergei, no.” The voice that echoed through the room had the snap of command. Involuntarily, Nikki turned toward the voice.
Another figure emerged from the smoke. Another man, wearing the same black coveralls, carrying a similar weapon. But this one didn’t have his ski mask on. His face was hard, finely-chiseled, with steel-grey eyes. His short blond hair was matted with blood. “No,” he snapped again. “Cover them.”
The first man, the one called Sergei, hesitated. Nikki could feel his desire to pull the trigger, to blow her head off. His eyes told her how he viewed her: as nothing but an obstacle, to be eliminated in the most expedient manner. For an instant, Nikki felt the dreadful certainty that he’d fire anyway.
But then discipline took over. He lowered the weapon from its aiming point between her eyes. The weapon still pointed at her, was still ready to cut her in two. But the gunman was no longer right on the verge of using it. “Move away,” he growled. “Against the wall, both of you.”
Unable to take her eyes from her would-be killer, Nikki backed away. Broken glass crunched under her feet. In her peripheral vision, she could see Toshikazu climbing to his feet and moving with her.
Three more figures emerged from the smoke, black shapes seeming to coalesce out of the black billows. One was hobbling painfully, a bloody wound visible on one thigh. The second was helping his wounded comrade. Despite the distractions, both had their weapons — submachine guns, Nikki decided at last — held ready. Both guns tracked over to Nikki and Toshikazu, probably an instinctive reaction, before the owners realized that the one named Sergei had things well in hand.
The third figure — the “eyes behind” — was walking backwards, eyes and gun barrel scanning over the smoke. Nikki wondered what good that did; she could see nothing through the black clouds.
But the rear guard obviously could. He triggered a short burst from his weapon, the flat drumming much quieter than Nikki would have expected. A hoarse yell of pain echoed from the depths of the smoke, followed l>y two deeper-throated, booming discharges. Bullets smashed marble chips from the top of a lab table, and ricocheted off with piercing whines. Toshikazu dropped to the floor once more, again trying to drag Nikki down with him. This time she didn’t resist, crouching down below the level of the tables. For all the cover it gives us, she thought.
Now Nikki could see movement in the smoke. Something lurched forward — a white figure, hugely muscled. It took her a moment to recognize it: a Nagara Corporation security guard in his body armor. A massive gun in the guard’s hand boomed twice. The black-clad rear guard cried out in pain and fell, but still managed to keep his weapon lined up on its target. He squeezed off another burst.
Nikki could see the bullets slamming into the guard’s broad chest, shattering the rigid armor and driving t lirough into the flesh beneath. Blood burst out, spattering across the white armor. Falling back under the impact of the burst, the guard pumped another big bullet into the ceiling.
And then all the black-garbed raiders were firing into the smoke as they backed toward the door. The one who’d been felled by the guard’s shot was trying to struggle to his feet. Even though she couldn’t see his face, she could see his agony in every movement. His left arm hung limply, as lifeless as a slab of meat, and blood pooled on the floor, but still he kept firing as he struggled.
There were more white shapes in the smoke, and she could see the muzzle flashes of the guards’ weapons. Bullets slammed into the floor and walls, and the air was filled with screaming ricochets. The raiders continued their fighting withdrawal, keeping up a murderous rate of fire. Nikki saw a guard’s mirrored face shield shatter under the impact of a well-aimed burst. She was thankful the man collapsed backward into the smoke before she could see what the bullets must have done to his face. Another screamed and jackknifed forward as shots pulverized his stomach armor.
Nikki’s mind was a swirl of emotions: horror and fear, mostly, but with disturbing subtones. The black figures — were they wreckers? That they were enemies of Nagara was beyond doubt; did that mean they were her enemies? Sergei had wanted to cut her down, but the blond man — the leader, he had to be — had called him off. That had to mean something. Nikki disliked and feared the white-armored Nagara security guards, but to see them shot down like this … that was something different.
And then the was the wounded raider, still struggling to join his fellows. She could almost feel his pain, and his determination seemed to resonate through her nervous system. Was he an enemy? Maybe, but still… Without really being aware of it, she raised her head for a better view. Will he make it?
“Keep your fool head down!” It was the blond leader again. So fast that Nikki hardly saw him move, he was beside his wounded comrade, almost dragging the lurching figure back toward the door. Both continued to pump fire into the smoke.
There was still movement in there, and the shooting continued. But it seemed to Nikki to be blind. The guards were hanging back in the smoke, she thought, using it as cover. How many casualties have they taken? she suddenly wondered. Three that she’d seen, probably more. That might be enough to teach even those arrogant bastards a little caution.
All the raiders but the leader and the badly-wounded one were out of the lab. For a moment, those last two were framed in the doorway that led into the other lab. Then, with a final long burst of gunfire, they were gone. For a few moments there was silence, so heavy as to seem almost tangible. But then the guards opened fire again from the cover of the smoke.
What the hell was that all about? Nikki asked herself. She began to stand, but Toshikazu dragged her roughly down again. “We’re not safe yet,” he hissed.
As if on cue, security guards burst from the smoke, five of them, weapons blazing, a reckless charge at enemies who weren’t there any more. The guards hesitated for a moment, looking around wildly. For a moment, Nikki had the overpowering urge to yell, “They went thataway!” She choked back a laugh. Hysteria, her mind warned.
Four of the guards rushed through the door into the other lab. One moved slowly toward where Nikki and Toshikazu crouched. The guard’s gun was levelled at them, and Nikki could tell from the way the barrel vibrated that he had a death-grip on the butt. Why? part of her brain wondered. Fear? Anger? Blood-lust? A ball of ice seemed to materialize in her stomach. Any one of those could be reason enough to kill us. “We’re friends,” she gasped out.
The guard’s gun swung, and for the second time in as many minutes she was staring down the muzzle of a weapon. Again she was frozen in place, incapable of any movement. In the guard’s curved faceplate, she could see a distorted image of her own face, her mouth gaping in horror.
“lie, He!” Toshikazu leapt to his feet beside her. He was clutching his Nagara identification badge, the plastic square that all employees had to wear at all times, holding the lapel of his lab coat out toward the guard. All the while he was yelling in Japanese, much too fast for Nikki to make any sense of what he was saying. Catching on quickly, she grabbed her own ID badge, almost tearing it off her coat in her haste.
For a moment nobody moved. Then, with a grunt that could have been relief or di
sgust, the guard lowered his pistol. He looked over his shoulder and barked something to several more armor-clad guards who were cautiously emerging from the smoke. They nodded, and took off in pursuit of the raiders.
“Come with me,” the guard told them in brusque Japanese. “Someone will deal with you.”
That doesn’t sound reassuring, Nikki thought, but decided against making any remark. The guard gestured with his weapon, not quite pointing it at them, and they walked ahead of him the way his colleagues had gone. Nikki turned back, trying to get another look into the containment lab. But the smoke had closed back over the transparent wall, blocking her view.
She looked over at Toshikazu. Her friend’s face was pale, and there was a sheen of sweat on his high forehead. But after a moment his familiar smile reappeared. “Remind me that I’m working too many late nights,” he whispered to her.
Chapter Two
The musical chiming of the alarm brought Nikki to sudden consciousness. With a groan, she rolled over , and hit the OFF button on the clock beside the bed, then just lay for a few moments, staring up at the ceiling. the sheets and blankets were wrapped around her like loose, damp ropes, soaked with her own sweat.
Nikki usually hated the chiming of the alarm, wishing for just a few more minutes of uninterrupted sleep. Not today. This morning, the alarm was a welcome relief, an escape from the dreams that had pursued her ,all night. Dreams of fire and smoke, gunfire and torn bodies, blood and screams. Her head felt as though it was full of cotton wool, and her mouth tasted like dead things. She rubbed her eyes, tried to moisten dry lips with a tongue that felt like sandpaper.
God, she thought, and I used to wish that something exciting would happen to me. As she reached for the glass of water on the bedside table, she was a little surprised to note that her hand wasn’t shaking. She took a sip of the tepid water, swilled it around in her mouth. The dry tissue of her tongue and cheeks seemed to absorb the water like a sponge. Maybe boredom isn’t that bad.
Nigel Findley Page 3