Hurt World One and the Zombie Rats (10 page)

Stepping into the silo immediately succeeded
in taking her mind off her predicament. There was an overpowering
odour of rodents and in a dark corridor a man in a white lab coat
stepping forward to greet them.

‘Is this the one?’ the man queried. The man
had greying hair and bloodshot eyes sunk into deep sockets. Peeking
through the lab coat was a pink silt tie and green shirt. ‘I saw
the boat docking and was sure the wait is finally over.’

‘This is Dr Franco,’ said Jalanti. ‘He is
proud of the rats he has been breeding for us and is keen to see
them reach their full potential.’

‘You did bring the Toxoplasma G formula?’ the
scientist asked expectantly.

‘They called it the Stockholm Compound.’

‘Named after the city where it was first made
illegal.’

‘It wasn’t easy but I managed to track some
down.’

‘No, it wouldn’t be easy. Otherwise,
humankind would certainly be doomed. Let me show my gratitude with
a guided tour of my lovely little creatures’ temporary
residence.’

‘Alright.’

They walked through an iron door into an
elevator and rode it to the top. The doors opened onto a steel
gantry overlooking one of the most grotesque sights Mas had ever
come across. Thousands of enormous rats were tearing into each
other in a seething dark pit that reeked of death.

Dr Franco leaned over the railing in awe.
‘Magnificent, aren’t they? Another couple of generations of them
feeding on each other and I will start introducing them to human
meat.’ He looked at Mas with a twitching eye. ‘I am concerned that
when the time comes there will not be enough meat to go around. We
are dealing with some serious numbers. Some serious appetites.
Anyway, that is Jalanti’s department and she assures me I have
nothing to worry about.’ He was breathing heavily as he spoke,
exposing Mas to a breath of uncleaned teeth. ‘The Toxoplasma G
parasite infects a rat’s brain, turns it into little more than a
zombie. Instead of running away from cats, the rat will become
attracted to them, get themselves eaten. That is how the parasites
are able to enter their new host. I find the inherent cruelty of
nature quite extraordinary. Putting to use the Stockholm Compound
you have brought me, the rats will become attracted to humans in a
manner you cannot begin to imagine. A hunger beyond the most
extreme versions provided by nature.’

He dropped some spit down onto the rats just
to see if he got a reaction. But there was nothing. ‘Do you feel
safe from them up here?’ he asked Mas. ‘At the moment, you are
entitled to, although you wouldn’t want to slip off the edge.’ He
tried to give her a playful nudge, but she was strong and did not
move. ‘When my breeding program is finished, to stand where we are
now would spell certain death. Stripped to the bone in a matter of
minutes. A very unpleasant death. Come back then and I will show
you.’

‘The breeding program will continue on the
Kudos as we move towards destination,’ interjected Jalanti.

‘Which is very exciting,’ said Dr Franco. ‘I
wish I could go. I haven’t been on a boat since I was a young
boy.’

‘The boat we’ve got for you is so old it
might be the same one,’ said Mas.

Dr Franco’s smile turned to the consistency
of oil. He looked Mas up and down with leering eyes. ‘The Stockholm
Compound is apparently not on your persons. I would very much like
to confirm its authenticity before I get too excited.’

‘You’re already too excited if you ask
me.’

‘The canister is close,’ said Jalanti
hastily. ‘Unfortunately, further negotiations are required before
it can be released. I’m sure you can appreciate that in addition to
the scientific value there are also significant business
considerations attached.’

‘I’ve shown you the only kind of rats I’m
interested in,’ replied Dr Franco stone faced. ‘I will leave the
rest to you.’ He marched off the gantry in a mood.

Jalanti glared at Mas. ‘So, here’s the
negotiation. Handover the canister and I’ll give you the location
of the signature dog. And I’ll agree to your temporary release. I’d
rather have you creating havoc with our enemies than our
allies.’

Mas gave the cauldron of cannibal rats a
parting glance and headed back into the elevator where Dr Franco
was waiting. ‘I just need you to keep reminding me which is which,’
she murmured under her breath.

8 Animal rescue

The Atlantic crossing was being made in a
Lava Proton Jet. They were travelling high within the stratosphere,
which was only for missiles and people travelling like missiles.
The journey would be over too soon for Kaptu Z’s liking. He had
never had a vacation from Asylum City and the only experience he
felt he had been missing out on was cutting through the sky at
speeds no simulator could ever recreate.

Marco McRaven did not seem to appreciate the
look of excitement on Kaptu’s face. He was strapped in at the
mostly automated controls with tensely puckered lips that smacked
of unease. ‘We’ll be over Switzerland in fifteen minutes,’ he said.
He idly gazed at the dull grey cloud whipping by around the rocket
jet. ‘I’m surprised Renaissance personally got in touch with you to
brief you on this job. She usually just picks her technicians and
has a cats-land-on-their-feet faith in them.’

‘A bodyguard for a dog,’ Kaptu murmured.
‘There wasn’t much to talk about.’

‘There are always choices to be made in these
matters. Enough choices for you to checkmate yourself to death. I
must say, you’re already moving in that direction. Taking out the
Meltman’s train was a noble example of that very thing. Cutting off
your path of retreat is what your enemies would want you to do.
There’s no way you can go back to Asylum City now. So, using a
busted up dog to try and track down the world’s best poacher is
your only chance of being promoted to somewhere new. But if the
mission falls through there will be nowhere left for you in the
Hurt World. There will be nowhere left for you anywhere.’

‘I’ll be going back to Asylum City,’ replied
Kaptu casually. ‘Rescuing a bear was nothing. There is an entire
city to rescue.’ He smirked at McRaven. ‘You may even have the
pleasure of escorting me there. You did such a good job on this
occasion.’

‘No one who gets out of Asylum City wants to
sneak back in. And to what end? Do you think you can clear death
out of the city of death?’

‘No, perhaps just freshen it up a
little.’

McRaven rolled his eyes. ‘Let’s just see what
state you’re in when the time comes. The pieces might be small
enough that delivery can be done by carrier pigeon.’ He picked up a
black duffel bag from his feet and handed it to Kaptu. ‘You might
need this. It’s my own personal survival kit. It’s a lot better
than what you’ll get from the United Nations. Take out what you
want and leave the rest.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Keep most of it. Whoever put Mas in the same
space as the world’s maddest scientist deserves a moment’s pause.
We’ll try to find them. But, honestly, you’d better expect them to
find you first.’

Kaptu glanced in the bag and didn’t recognise
much of what he saw. Amongst the stash there were grenades of black
plastic, silver mercury vials that looked dangerous enough without
being readily apparent why, and red balls of splatter gum.

‘It’s a step up from what you would find in
Asylum City,’ said McRaven, ‘but the principles are the same. There
are things to communicate with, things to kill with and things to
stop yourself getting killed. In a quiet moment you’ll figure out
which is which.’

Kaptu zipped up the bag. ‘I’ll take the whole
thing.’

McRaven flicked a switch on the control
console and Kaptu’s harness began to lift off him. ‘The Swiss Alps
isn’t flat enough for a plane like this to land. So we’re going to
tip upside down. Get the idea what happens next?’

Kaptu looked out at the great swaths of
snowcapped mountains ahead and started to put on his gloves. ‘I
should’ve brought a bone for the dog. What if it doesn’t like
me?’

McRaven frowned. ‘Is that some kind of joke?
Just for that, I’m not even going to slow down.’

*

‘What’s its chances, doc?’ asked Mlit Hopital
through his surgical mask as he watched over the surgery in
progress.

Dr Leanov recognised the stress in the
Stamford TF representative’s voice and wondered if he was squeamish
at the sight of blood, even if it was just the blood of a canine. A
more likely explanation he supposed was that this particular dog’s
blood just happened to be more valuable than Romanee-Conti wine.
Perhaps, he should have barred someone so dubious from his
operating theatre, but surgery was such a lonely experience. ‘Its
chances are good,’ replied Leanov with his crisp Georgian accent.
He poked the sedated dog’s hard, muscular rump. ‘I say that because
it is strong.’

Hopital had been giving Leanov a looking over
of his own. There were busy black eyebrows; a broad, oval forehead;
unkempt curly black hair; and large, intense eyes. Importantly to
Hopital, there was no trace of hesitation or duplicity. Leanov
appeared to be one of those no-nonsense, no-ego types that Hopital
could trust without necessarily respecting. Having decided that the
world renowned veterinarian’s positive diagnosis was dependable
enough, he could not wait to hear it again. ‘Are you sure, doc? The
poor thing was leaking blood all the way here. We patched it up as
best we could with some of those Third World emergency staples.
They weren’t really up to the kind of hole Blast has got in its
side. I mean, you could put hinges on that flap of skin and make it
into a door.’

‘I suppose Guatemala does not have all the
facilities that we enjoy here.’ Leanov was suturing up the dog’s
side gash with a fast, expert touch. He paused to slap the monitor
displaying Blast’s vital signs set up at the head of the surgical
table. ‘That is a heart that wants to keep beating. I don’t make
guarantees but I tell it the way I see it. I’ve had war lords with
cute little puppies pull guns on me and I still didn’t tell them
anything less than the truth. You can pull a gun if you want to
kill something, but it isn’t nearly so useful when it comes to
keeping things alive.’

‘Honestly, Doc, an hour ago I might have been
ready to pull a gun on you myself. Now that you’re taking care of
business, I’m feeling a tad more sociable. Sociable enough to tell
you of the danger you’re in.’

Leanov frowned. ‘The people who tell the best
threats are usually the worst at paying their bills.’

‘You’ve got me wrong. You’ll get paid sure
enough. Say what you will about the United Nations, they can
certainly pay a bill.’

Leanov glanced up from his suturing. ‘Then
enlighten me as to what you’re getting at.’

‘As grumpy as doctors are, I know in general
the concern they have for their patients is real. In this case
though I would strongly suggest you tone it down a level or two.
And I’m not talking about the grumpiness.’

Nurse Null, who had been quietly assisting
the operation, needed to pat the perspiration off her own brow.
Leanov, however, retained his surgical-grade steadiness. ‘So, what
you’re saying is you don’t want Blast to survive?’

Hopital nudged past Nurse Null to get closer.
‘I know how doctors play the game. Do a little operation and then
prescribe a long rest as an inpatient. And why not? We all have to
get paid. But on this occasion I would discharge the patient as
soon as possible. Don’t get caught up in the aura of working for
the United Nations. The truth is the Hurt World Agency is just a
rather nasty off-shoot. Its technicians do not answer to anyone and
do not care who gets hurt when there is a mission to do. You should
know this because that’s all you’ll have between you and the person
you really need to worry about.’

‘Who is that?’

‘The other person coming for Blast.’

Leanov finished of the suturing and briefed
Nurse Null on what to do next: saline proxy blood, protein milk and
a level one anti-bacterial mist. Then he left the operating
theatre, discarding to the floor his mask and bloodied gloves as he
went. The face that was revealed underneath was streaked with
wrinkles and blotches. Hopital thought he looked quite sickly and
wondered if the high altitude of the Swiss Alps was an attempt at
the doctor’s own healing.

‘I’m sad to say I may have let myself be
swayed by the thought of helping out the United Nations,’ Leanov
murmured. He looked about the glass walled cubicles of the recovery
ward he had marched into; the pandas, tiger cubs and yaks that
occupied them perked up with his presence. ‘I didn’t do my usual
background check into this patient, something I have started doing
since I realized that attached to animals as cute as these are
often people rotten to the core.’

‘That is the way I view the Hurt World,’ said
Hopital. ‘The United Nations might be a noble and benevolent
institution but this thing called the Hurt World is fused to it
like a wart on the toe of an honest young maiden. Although they
would not reveal the identity of the technician they are sending,
you can be sure these people are all cast from the same mold. And
the animal division is the worst of all. The Hurt World obviously
does not value our fellow creatures as much as you do, for it is
their lowest prioritised department and the entry point for new
recruits. And they are not particularly discriminating about who
they take. Bent cops. Screwed up lawyers. Blood thirsty peace
keepers. You name it.’

Leanov stepped out onto the terrace of the
grey synthetic-stone chalet sucking in a lungful of the crisp cold
mountain air as though suddenly in need of his cure. Part of it may
have been the sereneness of the view of Mount Rosa nestled in a
soft pink hue of an early summer dusk. He spotted a parachutist
cruising towards the mountain from at least a thousand metres
above. ‘Is that the technician?’