Host

by Robin Cook

  As Michael dodged the erratically plodding people, he experienced a weird déjà vu from having been a high school and college running back. Since he was plainly more eager than they to move quickly and cover ground in a specific direction, he bumped into a few with more force than he would have liked. To his astonishment, none of the patients fell down, a fact that impressed him. He guessed that the computer programs that were directing their walking were able to deal rapidly and appropriately with sudden changes in feedback information and recover enough to keep the patients on their feet.

  After progressing twenty or thirty feet from the cage, Michael slowed and stopped, again going up on tiptoes. He had thought it would be relatively easy to locate Lynn since he was looking for the only person in the crowd with clothes, and in white, no less. But there were just so many people. The good side, he thought, was that it was going to be equally hard for the security guys to find them.

  All at once Michael caught a momentary glimpse of Lynn’s white hat. Quickly moving in that direction, he came up behind her. She had found Carl and put her arms around him in a hugging embrace. Of course Carl wasn’t able to respond in kind. His arms were limp at his side, his face a tabula rasa, and his legs were continuing their walking motions even though Lynn was holding him in place.

  Michael went behind Carl so that he could look into Lynn’s face. She had her eyes closed.

  “We’ve been discovered!” Michael said to her. He shook her arm to break her trance.

  Lynn’s eyes popped open.

  “A bunch of hospital security appeared out in the hall,” Michael said anxiously. “Luckily I got the door closed before they could come in, but they are probably in now.”

  Lynn nodded understanding, her face reflecting the same panic Michael was experiencing. She let go of Carl, and like a wind-up toy, he immediately veered off aimlessly.

  “There is another entrance at the opposite end of the room,” Lynn cried.

  “I’m sure that is what they expect,” Michael said. “They will catch us for sure. We have to do something unexpected.”

  Despite the ambient noise from the grapplers and the conveyor systems, they could hear the unmistakable sound of the door to the cage being thrown open, clanging against the cage’s wall. Their pursuers were coming into the recreation room.

  Both looked up at the grapplers, which were continuing their ceaseless operation. “No, that’s not going to work,” Lynn said. She sensed Michael had also briefly wondered if they could somehow use the grapplers to get out. “But maybe the conveyors.”

  The duo had been aware that the grapplers were depositing and bringing back people from beyond an eight-foot-high barrier on either side of the room. Without even discussing the issue, they started off toward the right side. Lynn got behind Michael and held on to him as he forced his way through the crowd. Behind them they were aware of a major disturbance and assumed the security people were trying to force their way in their direction through the wandering, blank-faced patients.

  Hoping they had an advantage of being only two and working in tandem, Michael and Lynn reached the barrier wall that ran along the right side of the room. Sensing the security people were closing in on them, they searched frantically for a door. When they found one, they discovered it had no electrical lever on the wall to open it, apparently for fear the patients would bump into it. A quick inspection revealed there was a handhold depression on the door itself. Lynn put her fingers into it and pulled. The door slid open with relative ease.

  Shoving patients away to keep them from following, Lynn and Michael quickly stepped through the door and pulled it shut behind them. As they had assumed, they found themselves in the terminus for the conveyor systems for Clusters 4-B, 5-B, and 6-B. Each was conveniently labeled. Lined up like duckpins were three lines of patients waiting to be either returned to their respective cylinders or lifted and placed out in the recreation space. As in the cluster room they had visited, the handling of the patients was done by robotic machinery. The ambient noise from the conveyor systems was significantly louder than on the recreation-room floor.

  “If this is going to work, we should try the conveyor belt for Cluster 5-B,” Lynn shouted over the din of the machinery. “We’ll be on the same floor as the exit door.”

  Michael flashed a thumbs-up. As quickly as possible, they worked their way around the crowd of patients who were lined up, waiting to be sent back to their respective cylinders. In contrast to the other patients out on the floor, these patients were standing motionless, a feat as difficult from a programming perspective as making them walk.

  Pushing on, Lynn and Michael skirted the robotic arms that placed the patients on the conveyor system for Cluster 5-B when cued. For the moment they were at rest, having just placed a patient. It was, the students thought, an opportune moment for them. Michael climbed up onto the belt on all fours. He motioned for Lynn to do the same.

  Lynn cast a quick look behind her. Several security people were coming through the same door that she and Michael had used. Catching sight of Lynn, they yelled for her to stop.

  Lynn ignored them and, mimicking Michael, leaped up onto the moving belt on all fours. The surface was a smooth and pliable silicone material, which afforded good traction. With Michael about ten feet in the lead but already out of sight, Lynn ducked her head as she was drawn into a four-foot-high tunnel.

  About six feet past the entrance, the conveyor abruptly angled upward, and the tunnel progressively became darker. After Lynn was taken about twenty feet up the incline, the entire system came to a sudden halt.

  “Shit!” she heard Michael’s voice say somewhere ahead. “Why did the fucking thing stop?”

  “The security people saw me get on,” Lynn said. She began to crawl upward. She sensed Michael was doing the same, yet after only a short distance she bumped into his feet.

  “Why did you stop?” Lynn asked. She could barely make out Michael’s form in front of her. She knew they had to hurry. She could hear voices behind them.

  “We’re not alone in here,” Michael said. “There is a patient in front of me. We’re going to have to climb over. Are you okay with that?”

  “We don’t have any choice. There should be enough room.” Lynn reached up and touched the ceiling. The tunnel was like a tube, with seemingly more than enough room to scramble over a body.

  “I don’t think it is going to be difficult, but it sure as hell ain’t gonna be pretty.”

  “We’ll manage,” Lynn said, although she wasn’t sure she believed it herself. She couldn’t think of too many experiences worse than climbing over a naked, comatose patient in an upwardly angled, dark cylinder.

  Lynn heard Michael say, “Sorry, bro,” as he struggled forward. Lynn waited. Looking straight ahead and to the side of Michael’s dark form, she could see a bit of light, giving her the confidence there wasn’t that much farther to go.

  “Okay,” Michael said a minute or so later. “Your turn! I’m sure this poor bastard is going to think you are a picnic after me.”

  Getting past the patient was physically easier than Lynn had anticipated but psychologically more trying than she’d imagined. She struggled not to put any weight on the comatose person but wasn’t totally successful. The fact that he was supine rather than prone made it worse.

  “Okay,” Lynn said breathlessly once she was past. She had been holding her breath while in close contact with the individual. Michael was waiting impatiently.

  “Let’s get a move on!” Michael whispered urgently as he began crawling forward. They could hear voices behind them more clearly. “They might reverse the direction of the belt.”

  After another fifteen feet of their racing on all fours, the belt leveled off and the ambient light increased dramatically, especially after the belt made a ninety-degree turn. After another ten feet they emerged into Cluster 5-B, which was a mirror image of Cl
uster 4-B. Relieved at having made it, both stood and climbed over the side. As they did so, the belt suddenly resumed operation, with the rollers moving in the opposite direction, as Michael had feared.

  With a sense of partial relief from having avoided being pulled back into the clutches of the people chasing them, they used the conveyor superstructure to swing down and drop onto the walkway. With all conveyor machinery shut down, the room was quiet. The only real noise was from the intermittent flushing process in various cylinders.

  The students lost no time. They rushed to the door leading out of the room and, once they determined the hallway was clear, made a mad dash for the exit. They ran past the NOC and soon skidded to a stop at the door to the outside. Michael snapped up their raincoats and handed Lynn hers, and they pulled them on quickly. They didn’t want to have to explain themselves if they ran into anybody on their way to the dorm or in the dorm itself.

  “Ready?” Michael asked. His hand was poised above the door lever.

  “More than ready,” Lynn said, glancing back over her shoulder. “Come on! Let’s get the hell out of here!”

  Michael hit the lever, but to their horror nothing happened! He hit it again several times in a row with the same effect. Then he pressed on the lever as hard as he could and held it. Still nothing. The door didn’t budge.

  Lynn folded her arm against her torso and lunged at the door with her right shoulder. She hit it hard, but it wasn’t going anywhere. Michael did the same with the same result. The door was made of steel, with a solid core. It was meant as a significant barrier, and both of them knew it.

  The two students eyed each other in desperation.

  “What are we going to do?” Michael barked.

  Lynn didn’t respond. Instead she whipped out the stapled bundle of floor plans and rapidly flipped through them.

  “Come on, sis!” Michael snapped breathlessly. “We have to run. Our only chance is to cross over to the hospital. Are you looking for the best route?”

  At that moment both heard the unmistakable sound of a door bursting open. They couldn’t see it and assumed it was the stairwell door.

  “This way,” Lynn said hurriedly. She started forward in the opposite direction from the hospital.

  Michael ran after her, trying to tell her they were headed in the wrong direction, but she ignored him. After turning a corner, Michael again tried to talk to her. Behind them they heard the sound of men running in their direction.

  Lynn turned yet another corner, entering a long hallway that stretched out like a study in perspective. She was running at full speed, with Michael a few steps behind. They were passing doors on either side.

  “Where the hell are we going?” Michael gasped.

  Lynn continued to ignore him. Suddenly she stopped in front of one of the doors along the main corridor. She did it so precipitously that Michael plowed into her. He had to grab her with both hands to keep both of them from falling. She struggled out of his arms and hit the door’s opening lever. The moment it slid open, she dashed inside.

  Michael followed. He was confused as to what she was doing. Before the pocket door had opened, he’d seen the block letters on the door that identified the room as PHARMACY AND GENERAL SUPPLIES. Once inside, he turned around and closed the door. Facing back into the highly air-conditioned room, he saw that it was filled from floor to ceiling with rows of shelving, crammed with all manner of drugs and associated supplies. To his further surprise, Lynn had disappeared.

  Michael ran up the center aisle, glancing down each cross aisle, looking for Lynn. Her behavior had him baffled. He found her at the very back, on her hands and knees, in front of a relatively large metal latticework screen some two feet high and three feet wide that was positioned just above the baseboard and painted the same color as the wall. She had her screwdriver out and was madly removing the sheet-metal screws holding it in place.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Michael demanded. “They are going to be in here in a flash and the ball game’s going to be over.”

  “And we won’t be here,” Lynn said confidently.

  “Are you suggesting . . .”

  “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” Lynn said quickly. She took out the last screw and then struggled to remove the grille. It wasn’t cooperating; dried paint was holding it in place. “When I was at the building commission today, I learned that the Shapiro shares infrastructure with the hospital, including the HVAC system. This return duct will take us back to the hospital.”

  “I ain’t going in there, no way,” Michael said.

  “We don’t have much of a choice,” Lynn said. She was now frantically using the screwdriver to scribe the periphery of the lattice. A moment later she was able to break it free from the wall. “Finally,” she voiced. She leaned the screen against the wall to the side of the opening and put down the screwdriver.

  “How do you know you won’t get lost?” Michael said.

  “Easy,” Lynn said. “We’ll follow the airflow. The good thing is that the ducts have to get larger and not smaller.”

  “How come you picked this room out of all the rooms we passed?”

  “I knew a pharmacy would be kept cooler than other rooms, meaning bigger ducts. And we are in luck. I don’t see any video cameras in here.”

  With mounting panic, Michael glanced up at the ceiling. She was right. There were no cameras. Then he bent down and stared into the duct. Compared with this dark, narrow duct, dealing with the conveyor system had been a comparative picnic. Considering his size, he wasn’t sure he’d even fit.

  “We got to do this, bro,” Lynn said. “It might take us a while, and I hope you are not claustrophobic. You want to go first or second? Whoever goes second has to try to reposition the grille.”

  “You first,” Michael said.

  “Okay,” Lynn said, trying to bolster her courage. Despite what she had said to Michael, she had serious misgivings about what they were about to do. At the same time she knew they had to either try it or give up. And with the enormity of what they had discovered on their visit, she wasn’t eager to put herself and Michael into the hands of Sidereal Pharmaceuticals or Middleton Healthcare.

  Taking a deep breath, Lynn stretched out her arms in front of her and then, using her feet, pushed herself headfirst into the duct. By slithering like a snake, she found moving on the metal surface was actually easier than she had envisioned. She’d gone six or seven feet into the steadily growing darkness when she heard the metal grate hit against its housing. She sensed Michael was not behind her. Without being able to turn around or even see behind her with ease, she called out to Michael. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m replacing the grille,” he called to her. “You go get the Marines. I’ll duke it out here. Who knows? Maybe they won’t find me, at least right off.”

  “Michael!” Lynn yelled loud enough to hurt her ears in the confines of the duct. “That’s not fair. You tricked me!”

  “For good reason,” Michael said. “If they found this grille detached, they would know what we were up to. This way you have a fighting chance, not that I envy you. Go to it, girl!”

  “Michael,” Lynn yelled again, but with a bit less volume. “Don’t do this! We are a team. Those were your words.”

  “Sorry,” Michael said. “The ball’s through the hoop and the game’s over. Good luck!”

  “Michael, please!” Lynn yelled, but he didn’t answer. “Michael, are you still there?” Silence reigned.

  “Holy shit,” Lynn murmured. For a moment she debated trying to back up and see if she could kick the grate off. The reality was that she didn’t think she could. Instead, after taking another breath, she began crawling forward, going deeper into the confined, utter darkness.

  48.

  Thursday, April 9, 3:24 A.M.

  Benton Rhodes clicked off his smartphone a
nd slipped it into his pocket. He had been playing Angry Birds to entertain himself but he had run out of patience. He checked the time. More than two hours had passed since the security team had gone after the students. Although they had quickly cornered and tranquilized one of them after a relatively short chase, the other was irritatingly still at large.

  “That’s it,” Benton said. He pushed back his chair and stood up to stretch. He, Fyodor, and Misha were still in the control center. Viktor had been busy supervising the Shapiro staff to get the automation equipment on floors four through six that had been shut down back online.

  Fyodor and Misha turned to look at him. They, too, had been killing time. Everybody was tired and on edge.

  “I think we should go ahead with the mock surgery on the male,” Benton said. “There is no reason to wait to find the female, and Dr. Phillips has been ready for almost an hour.”

  “Fine with us,” Fyodor said.

  “When do you think you’ll find the female?” Benton asked. He couldn’t keep derision from his voice.

  “It should be soon,” Fyodor said. “We have brought in more personnel, and we are going to be systematic about it, starting from the sixth floor and working down. Frankly we are surprised she has eluded us this long. Obviously she’s found somewhere to hide. We didn’t expect that they would split up.”

  “Can one of you get me to the patient viewing room A?”

  “Of course,” Fyodor said.

  49.

  Thursday, April 9, 4:35 A.M.

  Lynn could tell she was nearing the end of what had been an arduous journey, both physically and psychologically. The first hour had been the hardest, as the size of the duct remained small. She had come to multiple junctions, some of which were hard for her to negotiate. At times she had to squeeze forward on her side and bend at the waist to get around sharp corners. As difficult as it was in places where she had to negotiate what seemed initially like insurmountable barriers, she seriously questioned whether she would be able to back up. A few times she used the flashlight app on her phone to help, but otherwise she remained in absolute darkness. Purposefully, she mostly kept her eyes tightly closed. With them open, she felt more claustrophobic and frightened. She was thankful there was a constant and gradually increasing breeze moving through the duct, assuring her she was moving in the right direction, particularly at junctions. The draft also kept her from feeling suffocated in the tight space. As difficult a time as she was having, she tried not to think about Michael and what he might be facing.