"Whole town's got to go anyway," Brass snarled, stabbing a finger at Spiko's face. "Look, you know what you've got riding on this..."
Borland leveled his .38, moved to the end of the tunnel and stepped out onto the concrete walkway. Brass saw him immediately.
"Borland?" The big man peered across the collection pond. "You look like hell."
The pool was 15 or 20 feet across by now. The water glimmered from Spiko and Brass' hood-lamps. Behind them, a rusted iron ladder climbed up out of the cistern. A circle of bright light suggested a halogen spot pointed through an open hatch.
Brass' helicopter must have landed on the runway up there. A clean-up crew.
"Jesus Jenkins wants his brain back," Borland grumbled, and then chuckled. Brass and Spiko watched him warily. The latter lifted his hands and slid the canisters from his shoulder. They fell with a clatter.
"That's Lazlo's real name. We got a joke going." Then he hardened. "Sounds like you want to treat my squad and the Biters. Why?"
There was a click and Spiko had his pistol centered on Borland's chest. The barrel looked swollen-a silencer.
Brass wore a gun in a holster on his right hip. His hand hovered close, but he was a talker not the quick-draw type.
"Put that gun away, Borland," Brass ordered. "Now!"
"Not yet." Borland kept the .38 pointed at him. "Why?"
"We don't have time for this," Brass said, giving Spiko a glance.
"Life's getting shorter by the minute," Borland growled.
Brass snarled impatiently and then started, "There was an accident, and a sample from Research was sent to the wrong lab."
"Bezo's still working on Varion?" Borland asked.
"You sure you want to know?" Brass eyed him carefully.
"We're already ghosts in the fog." Borland gestured at the BZ-2 drums and chuckled. He was giddy with destruction.
Brass hesitated, and then: "We're developing treatments for people with the Variant Effect Syndrome." The syndrome was a wide range of psychological and behavioral problems left over from the day-a hangover from having body chemistry permanently altered by Varion-hybrid molecules. "And a vaccine-insurance against the Effect's reappearance."
The big man took a couple steps away from Spiko. Borland watched them perform the old trick: divide and conquer.
"Medical research has to work with the cause to find the cure: smallpox, lethal strains of influenza, whatever..." Brass went quiet a second before continuing. "We started on it back in the day. Our researchers needed a Variant form that presented every time in a predictable way. From that, they could learn how to turn the Effect off. If we solved the puzzle, Bezo could redeem its corporate image and save the world. One of our scientists, Dr. Gregory Peterson, hypothesized a stable thirteenth Varion-hybrid molecule, and he developed something that was close, but it was unstable. There was an accident." He smiled ironically. "Peterson lived in the Manfield Building."
Borland glared at Spiko. The man's expression was calm and cool, but his eyes and the sweat on his brow suggested a frantic inner dialogue.
"Parkerville's another accident?" Borland asked, scowling at Brass.
"We went back to the drawing board, and have worked on it since the day. Ironically, it took the banning of Varion and the remission of the Effect to find our breakthrough. With Varion dropping below toxic levels in the population, the Varion-hybrid molecules became dormant. The presentations either disappeared or grew manageable." He shook his head slowly.
"We produced the thirteenth Varion-hybrid molecule by injecting Varion into volunteers suffering from the Variant Effect Syndrome. In all cases, we saw the reactivation of their Variant presentations; but a small percentage also began producing new Varion-hybrids. The scientists believe the non-toxic levels of dormant Varion in our subjects gave the new infusions of the drug time to form the thirteenth by bonding and making new hybrids from the twelve configurations we knew back in the day." Brass cracked a grin. "Once it formed, it dominated all other configurations. Parkerville proves it-infecting so quickly, with 100 percent communicability and presentation. We never dreamed we'd get test results like that." He nodded thoughtfully. "The new data will prove that we've produced the stable thirteenth Varion-hybrid molecule. From it we can reverse-engineer a vaccine for the Effect and redesign Varion to fix the problems it caused-an upgrade to Varion 2.0.
"The public won't go for it," Borland growled.
"The public wants easy answers and sporty cars." Brass smiled. "We'll re-brand it." He rubbed his hands together, either from cold or to warm them up for the pitch. "They do the same thing with computer technology. Add patches and fixes as they go along. We were so close to perfect on the first version of Varion. Imagine the world with a pill to fix every psychiatric illness-every social problem." He gestured at the canisters by Spiko's feet. "With these sacrifices, we'll design a 2.0 that works."
Borland's eyes shifted from one to the other, his gun stayed on Brass.
"Look Borland, you're practical. A survivor has to be." Brass shook his head impatiently. "With the stable molecule, we'll have a vaccine and a new Varion." Brass opened his hands like they were holding invisible blocks of gold. "We'll cure the world. "
"You mean treat the world for a good profit," Borland said and shook his head. "What if you're wrong again? Varion worked for the first couple years. If 2.0 tanks, the world goes ape again and that's the end of Bezo."
"Shut down Bezo and millions of voters are out of work at its factories, billions of voters no longer have medical treatment or access to the Bezo products they depend on. Look, Bezo cut a deal with the Feds at the end of the day. It happened every place there was a democratic government that considered itself a good global trading partner. Politicians knew they couldn't shut us down without causing economic and social ruin. So the Feds suggested Bezo create a company that they could punish. Their idea. They shut that company down and Bezo paid its fines. We're too big to punish." Brass chuckled. "And, there's always Varion 3.0."
"No!" a woman shouted over the echoes. "It stops here!"
Lilith stepped out of the tunnel on Borland's left, her pistol raised and pointed at Spiko. She pulled her hood off.
Zombie walked out behind her, his gun up. The weapon moved around unsure of its target. He stopped to Lilith's right, close to Borland.
"Put your guns down," she said. "I've recorded it all. You're under arrest."
CHAPTER 72
"I'll handle this," Borland said, waving at her dismissively.
"You too, Borland," Lilith repeated. "Put your gun down."
"Hey, Sweet-pants..." he growled.
"Put the guns down. All of you." Lilith gestured, then barked at Brass and Spiko: "Keep away from the foggers!"
Borland turned. "Who do you think you are?"
"I'm a special agent charged by a federal taskforce to investigate activities in the science wing of Varion's parent company, Bezopastnost, and the recent covert reactivation of this Variant Squad." She showed her teeth. "Now put your weapons down."
"The Feds?" Borland glanced at Brass. "I thought you were the Feds."
"Who sent you?" Brass asked, ignoring Borland.
Lilith didn't answer.
"The party that hacked Bezo's system caused all this." Brass took a couple slow steps away from Spiko. "Arrest them."
"What are you talking about?" Borland growled, tracking Brass with his gun.
"Later, Borland," Lilith said, and then gestured at Spiko with her pistol. "Drop the gun!"
"They're the only ones who could have tipped you off." Brass stared at Lilith.
"Save it for court," Lilith said. Something in her tone told Borland she had a far more personal stake in this than bringing a corrupt corporation to justice.
"What hackers?" Borland barked.
"The hackers that broke Bezo's security systems," Brass sneered. "Someone was trying to get information about the day and ongoing research. No big deal. Competitors attack us all the time.
But there are other groups-thorns in Bezo's side that are certain we're still working on Varion. To any practical mind it was a no-brainer. Bezo has a responsibility to understand what happened and prepare in the event the Variant Effect ever reactivates."
"And Bezo insisted the research was being carried out through safe computer simulations." Lilith's hand shook. Borland noticed a sheen of perspiration on her brow. "But that's enough talk!"
"How else can we understand it?" Brass pushed. "Someone broke the law to enforce it," he spat. "And we're the bad guys?"
"I think testing illegal and dangerous substances on human subjects despite an international ban qualifies you." Lilith's voice hardened.
"And two decades of litigation against Bezo have taken a toll on our enemies' collection boxes," Brass said. "Enough to force them into illegal activities." His face twisted into a self-satisfied grin. "But considering our deal with the Feds, there are only one or two groups with the political juice to lobby successfully for an investigation."
"Two decades defending Variant Effect civil suits have drained Bezo. They're desperate," Lilith interrupted. "But leave the evidence for court. Put your guns down!"
"The evidence, that's right," Brass' voice hardened. "When your tipsters hacked Bezo's Secure Data Server looking for evidence they activated a trip-switch virus that wiped the server clean. All downloaded or copied data files are encoded with the same virus. When the stolen files are opened, the virus wipes the hacker's machine clean."
Lilith's eyes flared, and the set of her lips softened.
Brass continued, "The rest was just bad timing. The virus got off our Secure Data Server on an overlooked automatic update feature that copies log files to the Bezo administrator. Several Bezo servers were compromised, but the network shut down before major damage occurred. However, the Bezo shipping office uses an older operating system that couldn't run the virus, so it blue-screened during the attack. When it restored itself a few small glitches corrupted the shipping database. Names and addresses were exchanged. It shouldn't have been a big deal.
"Except, tissue samples sent from Bezo's secure research labs intended for cryogenic archiving at our Cryocor Labs went to Medcor Labs, a non-secure Bezo company that handles medical tissue testing for hospitals and clinics." Brass' expression darkened. "There's a Medcor Lab in Parkerville." His face was grim. "B9Broadband reported a massive cyber attack the morning after Bezo's switch was tripped. We tracked the hacker there but lost him. He had enough time to know what we were doing, but the virus took care of any proof. The only clue we've got is B9Broadband's environmentally friendly clientele, but that's enough to guess who did it."
"Captain Borland," Zombie said hesitantly. "I just followed Lilith here."
"I can't believe the Feds would send a lone agent," Brass probed.
"I couldn't let you..." Lilith looked at the foggers before glancing at Borland. "None of you can let him do this!"
"I want to see your badge." Brass lifted his right hand.
"I will shoot!" Lilith repeated. Her voice was steadying. Her pistol was on Spiko.
"We might be able to work a deal if you're legit," Brass asserted. "For a fresh start."
"You mean another DAY!" Lilith shouted, shifting her glare to him.
Thump!
She dropped with a bullet between her eyes, a blank expression riding her face into the floodwater.
Borland shot at Spiko's chest, but got his neck. He fired again, and caught him through the breastbone. The smoking gun fell out of the Variant veteran's hand as he pitched forward into the cistern pond.
Zombie looked down at Lilith, then up at Borland before shifting his aim to Brass.
"What-what do we do, Captain?" he stuttered.
"Yes, Captain," Brass grated, his shoulders stiff. Borland's gun was on him. "What do we do?"
"The math..." Borland growled.
"Careful you don't start believing in something," Brass said, provocatively.
"Everybody but you and Spiko were expendable," Borland said. "You were going to treat the Biters and the squad to cover your accident." He frowned. "Parkerville too."
"Wouldn't be the first squad you lost," Brass insisted. "You don't even know who's left."
"I never lost a town before. Here!" Borland swung his gun and shot Zombie behind the right ear. The young man fell forward into the cistern. A dark red cloud erupted under him.
This is the end.
"Jesus!" Brass shouted, raising his hands and staring at Borland's gun. "No!"
"I thought: If I shoot Brass, Zombie can't help me against Brass' bosses. Can he? He's already expendable, even more now that he knows too much, like me." Borland's guts burned with acid and twisted muscle. "And then I think: If I shut Zombie up, Brass knows I'm not talking so he'll protect me from his bosses, because we're all expendable. Even Brass."
He needed a drink.
"Cause Brass wouldn't fog a whole town unless there was a pretty big gun at the back of his head." He gestured at the young man's body. "So Zombie puts us back on the same team and buys a pass for the rest of my squad-and Parkerville." He shrugged again. "Whoever's left."
"My bosses won't like it," Brass warned.
"Once we're out of the rabbit hole," Borland snarled, "they'll come up with a new lie to cover ours."
Brass nodded slowly.
"Let's go," Borland said, glancing down at Lilith's hood where it floated near his left boot. "We'll be heroes."
Brass moved, picked up Spiko's canisters and froze.
"She said she recorded us." He glared at Lilith's corpse. "Did she send the data?"
"We'll find out the hard way." Borland swept up Lilith's hood, yanked the power tether free of her bag-suit. He teased the hard plastic digital recorder from its vinyl sheath under the vid-com and pocketed it.
Brass edged around the open pool.
"Do you think they got all the Biters?" Brass stared into the tunnel behind Borland.
"You're afraid of Biters with me around?" Borland scowled, gesturing for Brass to lead the way.
He followed the big man into the darkness.
CHAPTER 73
The overhead lights came on.
Aggie and Borland were in a sterile rectangular room, 20 feet long by 10 feet square. They were separated by four feet of plastic couch. There was a hard electronic buzz and a voice came over a hidden speaker.
"Just sit still and let the photoreceptive injections permeate, please." There was a loud bang. "You should saturate in five minutes, then we start the ultraviolet." A buzz finished the sentence.
They both wore stretchy pressed-felt pajamas. The garments were permanently wrinkled into ridges and folds from being vacuum-packed and stored in sterile plastic bags. The tops were long tunics with short sleeves and three cloth ties up the front. These fell formlessly over shapeless capri pants. Borland's thick, hairy feet were jammed into hard vinyl sandals.
Despite her bandages and hangdog expression, Aggie looked sexy as hell. There were no bras on the voyage, and by the swelling contour of her chest, Borland could see she didn't need one.
He knew he looked ridiculous in his sterile gear, and had finally given up closing the middle tie on his tunic when the seam up the right side ripped.
Keep moving.
He hadn't had a drink all day. The painkillers were keeping his thirst quiet but he could feel it building in him. And something was pulling in his chest, hampering his ability to draw a breath. Guilt gnawed at his guts, he knew that. But could it break his heart too-no, it was Aggie's face that was getting to him.
She blames herself.
Despite her fighting spirit, perhaps because of it, she was unable to count the living faces that she had led out of the ground. Borland knew she wasn't that way back in the day. But she wasn't a captain when he knew her.
"You-uh, we got most out alive you took in, Aggie," he said, finally. She'd kill you if she knew how you paid for her life. "Sometimes that's the best you can do."
The squad was tattered and prepping for EVAC when he and Brass staggered onto the scene of the battle at the western cistern. He knew the next part of protocol would cover any tracks, take care of any bodies or physical evidence; but they needed a cover story. Aggie was wounded and ziplocking Cavalle and Flattop for transport. They were both injured and in need of isolation and treatment so Aggie didn't have time to second-guess him or Brass. Borland explained away Lilith and Zombie, claiming both had presented so he was forced to treat them after they chased him to the eastern cistern.
Brass said he'd opened the hotlink at that cistern to monitor the situation when he saw Spiko in full presentation. Brass' voice broke when he described treating the rogue veteran. He said he met Borland in the tunnel after that, so it all sounded plausible. Brass had ordered his helicopter to the hotlink entrance to transport wounded back to the army warehouse for isolation. He'd also called in medical teams and more sterile holding cells to quarantine survivors.
They sealed the hotlink after Hazard and Hazen's army baggies staggered onto the scene. T-2 broke down four blocks away from the action, so Hazard led the improvised squad on a plastic-wrapped and over-heated run. They were dehydrated but ready for action when they took up their positions. Hazen's other group under the runway reported noises, but zero enemy contact.
Borland looked around the room. Brass had shipped the decontamination units to the Parkerville Army base where engineers built a massive enclosed Variant Squad hospital out of them. Borland thought quarantine was a small price to pay. Especially when the army and second squad from Metro finished ziplocking the sewers to fog them with BZ-2. Then came the flamethrowers and incendiary plasma burn the fire crews applied to the biological remains.
The Variant Effect Page 26