Project 731 (7 page)

8

“You!” Alicio Brice said, snapping his fingers at a man whose name he couldn’t recall and perhaps never knew. “What’s happening?”

The man was a member of the science staff. The white coat and ID badge told Brice that much. The man, a heavyset fellow with a bushy beard and thin spectacles, leaned over the glass dome containing the Tsuchi.

“They look dead,” the man said.

“What’s your name?” Brice asked.

“Wood,” the man says. “D-David.”

“Well, Wood D-David,” Brice said, his temper flaring. “What, in your personal opinion, could be the cause?”

“I...I don’t know. I’m a geneticist.”

“As am I.” Brice crossed his arms. “I’m also your employer. So do yourself a favor and postulate.”

The big man leaned in close, breath fogging the glass. “Ahh. Well...I’m assuming all the environmental systems are functioning?”

Brice nodded.

“Then, ahh...what are they? I’ve never seen these specimens before.”

“They’re new,” Brice said.

“Chimeras of some sort,” Wood said. “Spider. Turtle. A few other traits thrown into the mix. The genetic integration is amazing. Are these from the island?”

“Fewer questions, more ideas.”

“Uh, well, when was the last time you fed them?”

It had been nearly twenty four hours since the Tsuchi had devoured Johnson. Could their metabolisms be that fast? Would they need to eat again already? There had certainly been enough waste material, long since swept away by the automated cleaning system.

To test the theory, Brice tapped out a few keys on his laptop and watched as a fresh piece of raw beef rose into the containment unit. The three Tsuchi, all laying on their backs, motionless legs clutched inward, remained still. The scent of raw meat failed to lure them from sleep. Could they really be dead? He didn’t think they could have starved. The Tsuchi on the
Darwin
had lasted years at sea, most likely in some kind of hibernation state. Was that what they were doing now?

Only one way to find out.

“I need you to inspect one for me,” Brice said.

“M-me? I’m hardly qualified to—”

“You’re here,” Brice said. He knew he could call in help, that there were other people just minutes away, who were more qualified. But time was of the essence, and he hadn’t known this man’s name. That meant, should the worst occur, the man was expendable. “That makes you qualified. You do like your job, don’t you?”

The big man actually appeared to be debating his answer, but eventually acquiesced with a sigh. “Just...tell me what to do.”

“Very good.” Brice set his fingers to work on the keyboard. Inside the Tsuchi unit, the floor came to life. Two small circles opened in the floor. The robotic limbs slipped into the space and twisted toward the nearest Tsuchi. The three stubby digits at the ends of the arms opened and gently gripped one of the creature’s rigid limbs. It didn’t flinch.

If the Tsuchi were dead, it would be a significant loss, but not catastrophic. They could harvest the creatures’ DNA and start anew. There was also a chance that they could collect and implant the Tsuchis’ eggs and artificially implant them into hosts. If that worked, they would have new, adult specimens in minutes. How the Tsuchi grew so quickly was one of the secrets he needed to unlock. If only the island had been more closely monitored, they wouldn’t be in this predicament, but reverse engineering was always easier than trial and error. And while Brice was a brilliant man, the mind behind the Tsuchi had been...insane, at best. Probably worse.

The Tsuchi body was pulled toward a clear plastic tray, collected and pulled down through the floor. “Over here,” Brice said, snapping his fingers, while walking to a biological safety cabinet on the far side of the massive incubator space. They arrived at the same time as the Tsuchi, the tray rising up behind the protective glass wall where two thick gloves hung limp. The Tsuchi was still rigid, seemingly clutched by death.

Biting his nails, Brice stood beside the unit and waggled his free hand at it. “Go ahead.”

After a moment’s apprehension, Wood put his hands into the glass-mounted gloves, reaching inside the container without exposing himself to what was inside. “That stinger looks pretty nasty. Should I—”

Brice waved his fears away. “The gloves are made from nanocrystalline cellulose, the same material our bullet-proof, puncture-proof and shock-proof armor is made from. Your hands are perfectly protected. Now, if you wouldn’t mind...pull off a leg.”

“W-what? Why?”

“If it’s dead, what does it matter?”

“What if it’s alive?” Wood asked.

Brice shrugged. “Then we’ll know it’s not dead.”

Lips pursed, brow damp with sweat, Wood turned to the task at hand, reaching out with the thick gloves. At first, he touched the body gingerly, ready to pull back. But after a few moments of prodding, he became more comfortable, lifting the Tsuchi up and turning it around. “It’s lighter than I thought it would be.”

“Most of the weight comes from the shell,” Brice said, “but on the inside, even that is mostly porous, like a gel-filled honey comb.”

“You’ve dissected one before?”

“Heavens, no. I have merely studied reports from those who have.”

Wood stopped still and turned to Brice. “But you would, right? If given the chance.”

“Yes, yes,” Brice lied. “Of course. Now please, concentrate. All this talking will give me a migraine.”

Wood tried to hide the shake of his head and the roll of his eyes, but he failed. Brice decided he’d fire the man regardless of his participation. But not until they were done. Not until he knew what step to take next.

The Tsuchi, laying on its shelled back, spun around under Wood’s guidance. He stopped it, took hold of a limb, and pulled. The leg didn’t move.

“Pretend it’s a wishbone,” Brice said. “You look like you’ve had a go at your fair share of turkeys.”

With a sigh, Wood leaned forward, face near the glass, and put his weight into the leg, holding the body still with one hand and pulling with the other. The limb slowly relented. And then, as though connected, all eight limbs snapped open. Wood let go of the leg, but still held the body in place. “What was that?”

“Reflex,” Brice guessed. “The last of its neurons firing in response to your pull.”

“It felt like it was resisting,” Wood said, looking back.

Brice’s reply was cut short, replaced by wide eyes and gaping mouth. Wood saw the reaction and turned toward the containment unit. The Tsuchi’s legs were all still splayed wide, but the long tail and its needle-tipped stinger hovered in the air like a coiled snake.

Wood withdrew the hand that had been holding the leg, but when he pulled back the other, the Tsuchi’s eight limbs snapped closed like a bear trap, not puncturing the gloves, but applying pressure. “It has me!” He tugged his arm hard, gripping the top of the unit, his face inches from the glass.

A sharp crack, like a suppressed gunshot, silenced Wood’s panic.

“What happened?” Brice asked, trying to look around his counterpart’s now still body. He gripped Wood’s meaty shoulder and turned him around. The first thing he saw was the glass, a spider-web crack emanating from a small hole. The second thing was a hole in Wood’s temple, a single drop of blood leaking out.

Wood looked stunned, like he wanted to say something but now lacked the mental capacity to do so. Instead, his face twisted, as though in slow motion, into a mask of pain, followed by the most ear splitting howl Brice had ever heard. He understood what was happening, even if Wood did not.

“Sneaky devil,” Brice said to the Tsuchi, still clinging to Wood’s arm. The creatures weren’t dead. They’d set a trap. He glanced at the Tsuchi dome and confirmed it. The other two were up and about, hopping around, trying to find a way out, perhaps sensing a shift in the action outside the glass dome.

Cracking glass brought his attention back to the contained Tsuchi. It was stabbing at the glass, shattering it. It would eventually be able to break free.

“Not quite sneaky enough,” Brice said, lifting a plastic cover on the side of the containment unit. His finger hovered over the now visible red button. He turned to Wood, appeared serious for a moment, but then laughed. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just that I was about to tell you that you were fired, and now I have to do this. Would have been like an 80s’ action movie.”

Wood’s only reply was more screaming.

“Levity is lost on the dying, I suppose.” Brice pushed the button.

The inside of the containment unit filled with white hot flames.

Wood’s scream rose several octaves and was joined by a shrieking, melting Tsuchi. The glass shattered and the flaming creature dove out, but fell still upon hitting the floor.

The large scientist, on the other hand, ran. The flesh of his left arm had melted away, leaving his radius and ulna bones protruding from charred skin, the bones of his arm dangling limply on slowly stretching connective tissue.

“Stop!” Brice shouted, but the man’s mind was lost.

Wood ran the hundred fifty feet toward the exit, gripping his head. Brice followed as best he could, but the last time he’d run anywhere was as a child, some forty years ago. He shoved through the double doors a few seconds behind Wood. When he entered the hallway, he found the other, much heavier man, running for the far end and the elevators. If Wood escaped, the results could be catastrophic. Brice couldn’t catch the man, but he could head him off at the pass, digitally. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, accessing the building’s digital security measures. He quickly tapped in a code, locking down the elevators. Next, he locked all the stairwell doors. Last, he alerted security to a containment breach. Within thirty seconds, there would be an army of heavily armed men capable of dealing with the situation. And if Brice was right, that’s about the same time Wood’s body would...give birth.

Brice began backing away, intending to lock himself inside the incubator, leaving security to handle the messier, and more dangerous, work. But he stopped short when the lumbering, screaming scientist barreled straight past the elevators and the stairwell door.

What is he...oh no!

Brice saw what was about to happen, and tried shouting out, but nothing could stop the big man’s charge. Weighing more than three hundred pounds, the prodigious Wood struck the window at the far end, moving at an impressive clip for his size. Momentum carried all of his girth into the pane, which didn’t shatter. Instead, the whole window popped free and fell away.

Brice ran to the end of the hall, listening to Wood’s scream fade with distance, and then, all at once, it was cut silent with a loud smack. Moving fast, Brice nearly fell out of the window himself, but he caught the frame and clung to it, looking down. Wood’s body, fifteen stories below, appeared wider than before, a pool of dark red slowly seeping out. But the gore wasn’t what held his attention, it was the man’s bulging head. With a crack audible from fifteen floors up, Wood’s head split open and burst. But it wasn’t a brain that emerged. It was a scrabbling, still growing Tsuchi. The creature, smaller than the one that birthed it, perhaps because it had been implanted in the man’s head, rather than his soft gut, stumbled to the side, found its footing and then scrambled inside the open cargo door that led inside Building-K, the 200,000-square-foot morgue.

Working the phone, Brice quickly triggered the bay door to close, and then he locked down the rest of the massive building. Next he redirected security, and unlocked his own floor. The Tsuchi had to be caught or destroyed at all costs. He took consolation in the fact that the BlackGuard were scheduled to return soon, and that the Tsuchi required living hosts to multiply. Looking down at the massive morgue, Brice shook his head and thought,
thank God for that
.