by Byrd, Daniel
"I joined because he knew I was quite capable of taking your place on the team. I’m not the expert on human anatomy that you are, but I understand chemistry as he did. You see, Frank had an eye for talent, and though he would've preferred to ask me sooner he didn't want to get his past involved in his life again."
"His past?"
"Bingo," Hayter said. "Let me ask you something else, doctor. Did Frank ever talk about his late wife?"
Hamilton reflected back on his final conversation with the madman. He did bring her up, but wasn't too detailed on their life together, only mentioning that she had been murdered one night while he was powerless to stop it. "Yes, he mentioned her…"
Naomi, right?
"She was a brilliant woman, and very kind and loving. She was the reason Frank came down from his dark tendencies in the first place."
"Sorry, but I don't much care for his personal life," Hamilton said in a polite tone. Hayter held up a hand and continued.
"Just listen. See, she was very important to him, and kept him anchored when all else failed. Then, she was stripped away, and in that storm of loss his old self took hold once again. Frank was a reclusive, strange man when I got to know him. He liked to perform experiments on his colleagues, never in a harmful way, but in ways that drove them to fear the man. Then his motivation pressured him to go further, far beyond what others would consider ethical. Meeting her changed his outlook, and he renounced his old ways in an effort to live a normal life with the woman. In the end, he fell back on them because it was all he knew without her. Now, why this is important in all of this is simple.”
Hamilton was starting to get an idea, and that idea was getting him angry, "Are you saying that you're comparing me and him again? What do you know about my life?"
"Other than what Rhyzov dug up, only what Dr. Adler told me," he said with a shrug.
"You talked to Julia?"
"Of course. After all, we worked together during the time I was part of the project under Frank's leadership. She told me all about the two of you. She had really taken a liking to you, you know? Tell me, why didn't you keep in contact with her after the project was officially ended?"
Stop feeding into this. He's baiting you into something, I know it.
The usual voice in his head was starting to get buried under the others surfacing again. He tried to ignore them. “That's none of your concern."
"Well it is in the sense that I'm trying to tell you that you probably could've prevented the one thing that wrecked you. You could have saved the poor woman."
Hamilton felt that familiar rage from talking with Tuefel boiling up, right before he killed him. That other voice, the more sinister one, returned. It was louder than the rest.
You should listen to your other part. Stop feeding into this shit, and find a way to kill this man. You'll be doing the world a favor, and more importantly, yourself.
"You're wasting my time."
Hayter cocked an eye. "Am I? I'm getting to my point, I assure you, but you'll have to be patient."
Hamilton could hear Moriarty in his head. Patience is something this guy doesn't normally have…unless it's watching an experiment unfold in his favor.
"Just get to the point, or walk in silence.” He could see the end of the tunnel now. It was dark out, and there were no lights to signify the entrance from the outside. He assumed it was to keep the place low-key.
"Therein lies one key difference between you and Frank; you're not one to wait for opportunities. You act on your will alone.”
The viscous voice again. He's right. Find an opportunity to eviscerate him soon. Snatch a gun off of a nearby merc and blow his brains out.
"Hayter, you said you weren't comparing us."
"Well I have to draw a few, since there are so many. Still, in our time working on the project together, he discovered something rather groundbreaking when it came to perfecting the virus."
Hamilton nodded in understanding. “The Alpha Strain."
“The possibility, at that point. It was still conceptual. Do you know how he discovered it?"
"He said it was a mutation," Hamilton replied. "He said Julia was the first of her kind." It hurt him to refer to her like that.
"The lies kept flowing from him, huh?" Hayter asked rhetorically, still not the least bit surprised, "Hamilton, she was the test for something she herself discovered.”
That one pushed his curiosity. “What?”
“Hamilton, she discovered the ability to control the infected. It was what made her try and leave the project. Something like that was too dangerous, and she was so against it that she went against Frank’s blackmailing. In the end, she died because of her own genius in a way.”
Hamilton didn't need another reason to hate Frank. He only needed to know why Hayter wanted him to know this.
“Yet what drove Frank to do such a thing?”
Hamilton snorted at that question. “He was a sadistic bastard.”
“There's more to it than that. He needed a quick and efficient way to use the undead, all because of a lack of foresight. Hamilton, how would you win against the undead right now?”
Hamilton wasn't sure how serious the question was. “Outlive them?”
“And how would that work?”
“Well, they're dead, so their bodies won't last long.”
Hayter nodded. “And what does a virus need to survive?”
Hamilton still wasn't sure where this was going. “A living host.”
“So what will happen in due time?”
Hamilton had already considered the final outcome of this epidemic. “If enough people can stay away from the infected, then it could possibly die out eventually. The bodies carrying the virus will be rendered inert, and the virus with it.”
“And that,” Hayter stated proudly, “is where Tuefel’s plan fell apart.”
He was right. An unstable virus wouldn't last long. In fact, with enough replicating the thing might not even be able to bind with a host anymore. He was no pathologist, but even Hamilton knew the idea of a deadly virus taking the planet was only something you'd normally see in movies. “He knew this?”
“Possibly, but I did. That's why I took the concept and applied it to another agent of infection.”
“What are you talking about?”
Hayter grinned. “Bacteria can survive so much longer without a host, and can prove just as infectious.”
“Wait,” Hamilton tried to wrap his head around the information, but was drawing blanks. “You made the virus into bacteria? That's impossible.”
“Not that,” Hayter corrected. “We took a basis, just as you all did in your work, and worked with transduction. Horizontal gene transfer. Recombinant DNA is very interesting when it works.”
Hamilton’s hamster was going full speed in his brain now. “You made a new strain? No, a new kind of infection?”
“That's right. Through tedious genetic recombination, trial and error, a lot of culturing, long hours and many more subjects, we created a bacteria that can survive much longer than the original virus. Bacteria that are infected with the virus. Bacteriophages, Hamilton. The bacteria continue to live and multiply, all the while with the virus living inside and persevering. The virus strain we worked on doesn’t infect human hosts, but bacterial ones. The receptors bind with the genetic material of bacteria, and the virus itself only activates in response to antibodies attacking the bacteria!”
“How…why?”
Hayter was staring ahead at the end of the tunnel as the ground leveled to a straight path. “We needed something much more viable in our plans. The virus from Second Fall was a good start, but in the end it's just a hammer; too much brute strength and not enough precision. It's doomed to fail in the long run. This bacterial strain we have perfected is just the solution we need. Efficient and deadly. Bacteria can survive far longer, and continue to be infectious long after the standing governments collapse. Our strain practically piggybacks inside of the bacteria and
waits.”
Hamilton thought of an issue that he couldn't ignore. “The point of the mutations was to keep the virus from being treated. What's stopping the bacterial strain from being reverse engineered? What was the basis?”
Hayter pointed at the doctor. “Streptococcus. Don’t give me that look. It’s common and contagious. Our strain is more resistant to vaccination and antibiotics thanks to conjugation of resistant genetic material. That's what Julia specialized in. She understood how the RNA and DNA worked in organisms, and she theorized that the virus wouldn’t make identical changes in all cases. Sound familiar?”
Just like Frank’s failsafe…
“Though chlorine and bleach would potentially kill the pathogens, I have no worries when it comes to curing it. Sure, it’s bacteria that can be found throughout the world, but antibiotics might have a harder time treating it. Strep can survive in the mucus for months after treatment, and that's all it has to do for the virus to breed within. Then it breaks through the cell wall of the bacteria and invades the host. All the bacteria has to do is be inside of the body as a Trojan Horse. Antibodies will activate the virus within, and then it's all over. Besides, it's already too late; our strain of the infection is already at large. Tuefel’s strain is what we used to speed the process along, but our own will slowly embed itself in all living people it comes across. The numbers will soon reach a point that the health organizations of the world can't cope with, and the only thing left after that will be time. They'll never even know it's coming. The bacteria will take care of the population left over from this initial assault, and then we will have this world”
This was a lot of information. Hamilton never even considered that the outbreak outside of the U.S. was the result of another pathogen altogether. That meant that all of his research was for naught. Even if they somehow had stopped Tuefel’s strain, the World to Come’s would eventually finish the job. Houseman would explode if he found out about this. “You said it was Julia’s idea? Did she help you?”
“She simply theorized all of this. I was gone not long after because of my opposing ideas to Tuefel’s own. I just took her genius to heart and began from her thesis. Her fate was sealed after I was gone, and before I had even began work. Tuefel saw her as a traitor once he learned of how she’d enlightened me. Only she could have thought of such a perfect idea.”
Hamilton had to wonder. Was Julia really responsible for the end of the world?
No. Don't listen to this guy. It was the menacing voice again. Hamilton could feel the bloodlust swelling. You need to get this location from the bastard and contact Houseman.
“So why are you telling me this?” Hamilton demanded. “Just to piss me off more?”
“No. I'm telling you this because someone has to tell you the truth.”
They came to the mouth of the cavern and stopped just outside. They were in the side of a mountain with a dirt path that stretched below and rounded a bin to the right in a valley. The sky was beautiful. Stars twinkled, and various blinking dots floated across their view. The moon was a waning gibbous, and reflected just enough light for them to see one another as they stood in the cold air.
“Do you know who funded the project, Hamilton?”
“No,” he admitted. Tuefel never spoke of their source of money. He assumed it was someone from Tuefel’s time in the academics.
“Would you believe me if I told you it was a man known at the time as Senator Reginald Loft?”
No.
“No.”
“Of course, he denied it once the program was shut down. His cooperation in Project Preservation also helped calm the fires, and wouldn't you know it?” Hayter placed his hands inside his pockets and stared out over the night. The sun was beginning to rise behind them, creating a reddish-blue over the mountaintop. “He became the President of the United States. All because he buried you all alive to save his own ass.”
That bastard…
“And,” a gruff voice announced from behind them, “he was quick to write us off as well at the same time.”
They both turned around. Jackson Lewis approached and stood with them, arms crossed. “What? I needed some fresh air myself. It's been a long night.”
“It has,” Hayter agreed, “and I take it all went well?”
Lewis nodded, and apparently that was enough for Hayter. Hamilton was curious, but decided to let it go. Still…
“Is he here to kill me?” Hamilton asked, thumbing to Lewis.
“If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. Hell, Rhyzov would've had you done in back in Berlin.”
He had a point. “I guess that's fair.”
“I just happened to see you two coming out here and decided to see what was up.”
“We’re just getting to know each other better,” Hayter assured him.
“Then why does he have a satphone?” Lewis asked, eying the contraption with concern.
“Well, that's up to the doctor, isn't it, Hamilton?”
Hamilton held the device in both hands. It worked. All he had to do was make the call. The CIA had made sure he’d memorized a safe number for him to contact. Then again, Lewis seemed like the kind of guy who would drop him in an instant. He was far too big to even consider fighting. What the hell is Hayter playing at?
“Look, you've told me a lot that I wasn't aware of, but I still have some more questions.”
“Then ask away,” Hayter insisted.
Hamilton took a deep breath as he looked to the phone in his hands. “If Loft was the one who funded the project, then what happened after that? Did he fund it afterward too?”
Lewis cleared his throat dramatically. “No, that would be where I come in. Well, not me specifically, but my side. See, before Tiamat Unbound went under they were providing security for that facility. Ring any bells?”
Hamilton thought back to his time with the project. He remembered the guards in red and black apparel, but they weren't as sophisticated as the people here. Still, there was a resemblance. “Yes, I remember their presence. I didn't even know of the group at the time.”
“Group?” Lewis sounded offended. “Kid, we were the world’s premier PMC. Loft had contracted us to provide security for the facility, and then dragged us through the mud when it was shut down. Of course, that didn't mean the project ended, did it? Even you know that much. What you don't know, is we kept funding it in secret for quite some time. Hell, even I didn't learn this until about a year ago. Tiamat Unbound’s darkest kept secret.”
“That still doesn't explain how it kept going,” Hamilton pointed out, his fingers carefully beginning to dial the number.
“Well,” Lewis checked his watch, studying it as he paced about nervously, “I can tell you that Tiamat Unbound kept funding it for a while after the U.S. Government shut it down, but then…” he dropped his wrist and continued pacing. “Well I’ll let Hayter explain that part.”
“That was where Frank and I stopped seeing eye to eye,” Hayter picked up, “and so I left the project.”
“He didn’t threaten you?”
Hayter looked to Hamilton and grinned. “Frank wasn’t going to go and kill his late wife’s half-brother.”
Hamilton stopped messing with the satphone and glared at the man. “I’m going to ask you again. Who the hell are you?”
Hayter’s grin vanished, and his hands went back into his pockets as he nodded to the ground. “Just like I said, I’m Naomi Tuefel’s half-brother.” He looked Hamilton in the eye. “I’m Samuel Hayter.”
Hamilton racked his brain for the name, but it was new to him. Hayter held out his arms in anticipation, but Hamilton just shrugged. “Never heard of you.”
Sam dropped his arms to his side and sighed. “In any case, after I left I decided that my vision was still worth fighting for, so I took a plane to Italy. I met with a beautiful woman named Elizabeth Belmont, and after hearing my idea to move the project forward she pulled her funding from Tuefel’s group and decided to give me a team to work with
right in the basement of the headquarters.”
Lewis chuckled. “Beautiful? Hell, she was evil incarnate, that woman. Still, she had her reasons for everything she did. You were lucky, Sam. UN never did find that floor when they raided the place last year.”
“We weren’t on official records with her company,” Sam replied, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his lab coat, “and that floor wasn’t exactly listed on the elevator.”
“So if the PMC is gone, how the hell is all of this still possible?” Hamilton inquired, eying the pack.
“She kept records,” Lewis explained, “in a safe on the wall in her office. I happened to find them and the records of her cache of finances when myself and a few others stormed the place. Made off with it before the UN arrived. The amount of money she had stashed all over the world would’ve made Bill Gates cry.”
“I’ll bet,” Hamilton uttered, watching Sam closely. Sam had lit one and was busy watching the smoke rise up, when he glanced over and noticed Hamilton studying him. He held the pack up, and Hamilton didn't hesitate to walk over and pull one out. Seconds later he was playing with the lighter and happy again as he drew the nicotine in.
“Okay, now you can both talk about whatever you want,” Hamilton said with a smile.
You have a problem.
“Fuck you,” Hamilton muttered, still smiling. “What about you, Mr. Lewis? You don't smoke?”
“It's not good for you,” Lewis commented, turning his back to them and staring into the tunnel. “I like being able to run for more than two minutes without losing a lung.”
“What are you watching for, Lewis?” Sam asked. Lewis pointed towards the mouth, where a figure was being escorted towards them.
“Crazy bastard,” Lewis uttered. Rhyzov was brought to them with the help of his personal aid. Hamilton struggled to remember the big guy’s name. “Ren, why did you bring the Major all the way up here?”
“He asked me to, sir,” Ren explained, “and you told me to follow all requests he gave me.”
“Shouldn't you be getting stitched up?” Sam asked, shaking his head at the shambling man.