******
Surprising himself, Gregory Michaels didn't go back to his office, even after he had grabbed another cup of coffee and a little bit of supper from the mess hall. Something about his experience with Dunlevy left him nervous and wanting to be in the company of other people.
No, he thought to himself, that's not all of it. There's something else. Indeed there was: he felt curious.
It was thus that he wandered through the various places in the Institute building, passing through the main lobby out of his own sector until he reached the Experimental Design wing. He waved his badge at the reception desk. With a puzzled look, the attendant buzzed him through. It was a bit strange; Michaels could count on one hand the number of times he'd visited that area.
He passed into another of those sterile white hallways. This one had a thick blue line of tiles passing down the center, probably to differentiate it from the other sections. The Experimental Design wing was on the eastern arm of the civilian branch of the Institute. Doorways on either side led to large rooms and labs for research and testing as well as a few offices. At the very end of the hall lay a set of doors leading into a fairly large, open room for engineering the projects. Michaels passed through without so much as a glance from the guard.
Inside he saw rows and stacks of equipment and machinery. On his left, a metal-grating staircase led up to an overlooking office. On the floor, numerous small vehicles were crowded near a large sliding door which led to the outside. Though he couldn't see it, Michaels also knew there was more fenced-in space outdoors for miscellaneous tasks.
Over on the right, against the wall, was a wide ceramic workbench. Upon it sat a cylindrical tube made of shining stainless steel, smooth and sleek. A small curved section had been removed, and Claudia Laverock, in her skirt, lab coat, and high heels- Michaels rolled his eyes at the impracticality- was hunched over the opening.
Michaels walked up to her and cleared his throat. Still hunched over, she turned her head and saw him out of the corner of her eye. He heard a slight sigh escape from her, and she stood up and turned around. She folded her arms and leaned up against the bench, looking at him expectantly.
It was at this point that Michaels realized he had thought of nothing to say when he arrived. Considering in silence, he stood awkwardly until Claudia raised an eyebrow and said, "Well?"
Michaels frowned and replied, "Well, what?"
Claudia put on an incredulous expression, "Well, you interrupted my work. What are you doing here?"
Michaels closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. "To be honest…" he hesitated. "I'm not exactly sure."
She scowled at him. "Then go away, I'm working." She turned back towards the device.
The curiosity sparked. "Ah, yes." He walked forward and looked at the cylinder. It was about as long as his forearm and wide as the palm of his hand. Inside the open panel, he could see a few wires scattered about. Behind those were long vials filled with liquid solutions. As he stepped in to take a closer look, Claudia cut in front of him.
"What do you want?"
He peered around her at the cylinder. "Is that it? Is that part of the contingency plan?"
She sighed and answered, "Yes it is."
Some of his conversation with Dunlevy echoed in his mind. He tried to be nonchalant, but the result came out more as fumbling awkwardness. "So, I uh, heard it's getting close to completion."
She eyed him warily. "From whom?"
"Arthur."
Claudia glared at him. "Citizen Dunlevy doesn't have the slightest idea what this project entails, and it would be delightful if he didn't run around gossiping about it to other clueless people." There was a clear hint of dismissal in her tone, but he ignored it. She turned around and pretended to keep working. Michaels watched her with an amused expression, noting her tense posture and sidelong glances to see if he'd left.
"Well?" he finally asked.
"Well, what?" she practically shouted, whirling around again.
"Is it almost finished?" Michaels felt a strange satisfaction at her exasperation.
Claudia threw up her hands. "The latest prototype of the agent with its delivery device and payload is what you see here. There, are you happy?"
"What is it?" Michaels asked, tenacity burning through him.
She sighed, rubbing her eyes. "If I tell you, will you leave me alone?"
Michaels saw the irritation in her face and stance, and he thought, That's exactly how I feel when Dunlevy is around. A smile curled at the corner of his mouth.
"Of course, my apologies for disturbing you, Citizen Laverock," he said with a slight bow. "I'm curious; that's all."
Claudia rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. "It's a biochemical agent that, when properly mixed, seeps out of the ends of the canister," she gestured at the cylinder, which Michaels finally noticed had slits at both flat sides. "The substance mimics a heavy fog that," she winced, "should stay at or close to ground level."
"Should?"
The woman's scowl returned. "The mixture has been tricky. Nailing down the density while maximizing potency hasn't been easy, but it's the only way to keep it from rising up into our own streets." She shook her head. "I can't be certain unless I run further tests on it and make modifications. However, Wresh is breathing down my neck to have the next functioning prototype," she swept a gesture at the cylinder, "by tomorrow."
"What if it isn't actually ready by then?"
Claudia scoffed. "They don't care about that. Wresh wants something he can use to kill a bunch of people quickly." Her tension level continued rising as she spoke. "I can't even be sure that he's planning on using it in down below or somewhere else."
Michaels narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
Claudia stiffened, as though realizing what she had said. "Look, forget I said anything about it, okay?"
Michaels shrugged but decided not to force the issue. "What does the substance do?" he asked, changing the subject.
She swallowed hard and lost some of her color. "It's an agent that absorbs through the skin. Once inside the bloodstream it has a reaction that causes organic corrosion," she shuddered, "the vessels decay and leak until the person bleeds out internally."
"Is it painful?" he asked, eyes wide.
"Extremely."
Something about the compound seemed too terrible to exist, and it made Michaels feel almost sorry for the denizens it was intended for. Sympathy was an odd sensation for him. He took a short backwards step, away from the workbench. "How much exposure until it's fatal?"
"It depends. If it just absorbs into the extremities, then maybe a few minutes of contact. If it's inhaled…" she shook her head. "There's no chance."
She continued, "Obviously, we haven't yet tested it on any human subjects, but animals haven't survived any more than about forty-five seconds. A full-sized human would probably last a bit longer."
"Antidote?"
She shook her head. "No. Unless there was a minimum of exposure and the subject was able to wash it off quickly. Even then… chances are slim."
Michaels took another step away from it. "Doesn't it worry you?"
Claudia hesitated and bit her lower lip. "Well… yes, it does. I know we aren't supposed to care about anyone from down below, but this compound is… frightening. Even when we use it on the animals, I can barely stomach it. It's such a horrible way to die." She turned around and leaned on the workbench with both hands. "I'm really not cut out for this kind of research."
Michaels was taken aback by her sudden rush of emotion. "Uh… I meant… doesn't working with something so lethal," he jerked his head towards the canister, "right next to you, make you at all nervous?"
Leaning against the table, Claudia wilted. Michaels watched as she hung her head for a few seconds before standing up straight and turning around. She forced a smug expression. "I work with hazardous materials all of the time. I take proper precaution, so no. It doesn't bother me." Any trace of her sentimenta
l flood had faded.
Michaels smirked. "You don't deal with warfare materials often, I take it."
This seemed to strike a nerve, and she resumed her irritated scowl, "No, if it makes you happy, I don't usually work with military projects." She raised her chin. "At least I didn't make my reputation from ruining people."
He shrugged. "They aren't people, Claudia; they're garbage. Not worth saving or dealing with." Even as he said the old line, something in it rang false. He tried to cast the thought aside, but it lingered in his mind.
Claudia sneered. "Said like a true Citizen underling: Tell me, have you ever had any sort of independent thought in your whole miserable life?"
Michaels opened his mouth with a barbed retort ready to spill out when a loud klaxon blared through the warehouse area.
Claudia threw her hands up in the air. "God dammit!" she yelled as dozens of people walked briskly towards the door. She started moving as well, giving a shove to the confused Michaels. He stumbled and fell in line with the rest of the staff. Instead of heading out of the main exit, staff members walked towards openings on either side in, to Michaels's eye, no particular arrangement. He walked in front of Claudia, who was muttering random curses under her breath, toward the left door. He turned to ask her what was going on, but the brief distraction caused him to bump into the person in front of him.
A young woman shot him a glare before continuing into the wide, white room. Michaels mumbled an apology and followed her in. On the right, there was a small viewing window. Behind it stood a few people with bored or irritated expressions.
People continued to file in until the room was on the uncomfortable side of crowded. Michaels had lost sight of Claudia in the close packing of bodies. He still didn't know what was going on. The lights darkened, the entrance slid shut, and the room filled with a kind of mist.
Irrationality and panic flared through Michaels' mind, having just considered a certain kind of excruciating and lethal substance for usage against a large group of people. Everyone else just stood calmly, wearing the same bored or annoyed expressions as the people behind the glass. His heart raced, and he tried to shove past people towards the exit, but they just gave him dirty looks and didn't move out of the way.
He clenched his fists, squeezed his eyes shut, and held his breath as the translucent fog filled the chamber. It felt cool on his skin, almost soothing, but he could imagine his blood vessels rupturing, his flesh sloughing off-
With an almost impossibly loud whoosh! air rushed past him from beneath, ruffling his clothes and scattering his thin hair. His eyes popped open and he saw the rest of the people, now looking more irritated while their own hair and clothing blew around. The fans disengaged, and a door at the opposite end of the chamber slid open.
The various scientists and other researchers walked out of the room. Michaels caught a glimpse of Claudia, marching along very much like everyone else as though this event was commonplace. Maybe it is, he thought, starting to relinquish his panic.
He pushed his way through the crowd of people, tapping Claudia on the shoulder when he reached her. She gave him a quick glance and frowned.
Michaels was about to ask about what happened when Claudia cut in. "This is why I don't worry about it much. The decontamination procedure is thorough and efficient." She grabbed his arm and led him to the side, allowing other people to pass by. "The warning system, however, is overly sensitive."
Michaels nodded and rubbed his chin, calming down. "I see your point."
"Good. Now leave me alone." She waved him away with a 'shooing' gesture.
He raised an eyebrow and walked away down the hallway. Before he went around the corner, he turned back. She watched him, expectantly. He opened his mouth to say something about how he wasn't an underling or that he would show her and everyone else, but he couldn't find words that didn't seem hollow and empty.
Instead, he gave her a nod. He said, "Good evening, Claudia," before turning and walking away.
Uprising Page 55