[The Fear Saga 01] - Fear the Sky (2014) (40 page)

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Authors: Stephen Moss

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BOOK: [The Fear Saga 01] - Fear the Sky (2014)
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“Well,” said Madeline, laughing, “he’s fine. You know, the vicar thinks I look beautiful.” Madeline reached up and cupped her hands under her new hairdo, puffing it lightly.

“Oh I’ll bet he does, the horny devil.”

“Yes, well, he’s always had a thing for women in industrial strength wool skirts,” laughed Madeline.

Ayala started to get her laughing under control, and looked again at the woman. Shaking her head as she wiped the tears from her eyes, she sighed. “Thank you, Madeline. Oh, wow, I needed that.” Still laughing, she went over and hugged the younger woman.

Madeline returned the genuine sisterly affection, and they squeezed each other tightly for a moment before Ayala stepped back and looked Madeline in her deep blue eyes.

“How is it going here?” the Israeli asked. “Are you really going crazy or is this just the vicar’s wife talking?”

“No, I’m good, very good actually. It took some late nights, but we are on schedule. We have been producing test batches for a few days now, and I’ve introduced them to a couple of our little buddies to test their effectiveness.”

Ayala nodded. John Hunt had told them that the cellular construct would work equally well with most primates, as well as pigs and several other higher mammals, so they had requisitioned some monkeys for trials. It had raised some eyebrows with the facility’s staff, but they were not paid for their inquisitiveness, as they well knew, and it had not been questioned.

“Why don’t you come and check out the results? I’ve given my staff the day off so you can come and see the process without having to meet them,” Madeline asked.

“Great, let’s get down there.”

Madeline opened the door and Ayala grabbed her small bag once more. She travelled light, maintaining a small stash of clothes at each location so she could move easily between the various pockets of people she supported.

As the older Israeli woman walked past Madeline out the door, she paused, shaking her head and laughing once more, noticing the reading glasses on a thin gold chain around Madeline’s dainty neck.

Madeline laughed too, “Oh, those.” She smiled and put them on, completing the Mary Tyler Moore look Madeline had gone for.

“Yes those.” They both laughed as they walked down the corridor, locking arms with each other as they went. “Oh my lord, what have I done to you. You were such a pretty girl.”

“Price of admission, Ayala, price of admission.”

* * *

If Ayala had been struck by Madeline’s striking change upon arriving, she was equally taken by the way the young woman’s demeanor changed when she entered the test lab. She was at home here. This was her domain, and with its distinct lack of cameras and windows it was truly one of the few places she could really relax.

The resonance manipulator’s home was still the same large white lab where Madeline had demonstrated the prototype system to Shinobu Matsuoka not long ago. It was still dominated by the large sphere that had been the focus of the room’s efforts for so long now. Same white walls, floor, ceiling; same metal tables dotted with several computers.

But since that day, the austere concrete and metal decorations had received a splash of color in the form of four brown chimpanzees in large cages against the back wall. They all started clamoring and yapping when the two women entered the room, and the two women went over to greet them.

“In another couple of days they should become infectious, according to John’s information,” said Madeline, taking one of the young chimps out of his cage. He wrapped his legs around her, draped one powerful arm around her neck, and reached out with the other to touch the new woman.

Ayala smiled at the cute little guy, and stepped close so the he could touch her face and inspect her. As she gently extricated her long black hair from his playful grip, she said, “So, how have they responded so far? Have you seen a decrease in pathogens in their blood?”

Madeline smiled, expertly throwing the monkey up and over onto her back so she could pick up the clipboard hanging from his cage. He squealed, almost like laughter, and the other three rattled their cage doors, wanting to join in.

“Calm down, you three,” said Madeline in a motherly tone, then, flipping a few pages over she found the graph she was looking for and showed it to Ayala.

Ayala studied it, looked back at Madeline, then back at the chart. “Is this correct? Nothing, they have none?”

Madeline nodded, handing the chart to Ayala to study while she manhandled the excited little chimp off her back and back into his cage. Closing the door, her soft voice placating the monkey, she turned and started walking toward one of the computers, Ayala following incredulously.

“Yes, Ayala,” Madeline said, signing in to the PC, “nothing. We have run a battery of tests on the little guy and as far as we can tell his blood is completely clear of any pathogens. Turns out that when you have detailed schematics to work from it really isn’t that hard to build it right first time. Well, maybe not first time, the cell walls of the first fifteen constructions collapsed as soon as the resonance chamber was deactivated, their internal pressure too great for the casing I had designed to coat them. Of course, I didn’t know that until I got the test tubes under a microscope.

“Turns out I had misread a section of John’s notes in my haste to input what I thought was the easiest part of the cell’s design, basing it on my knowledge of human cell structure rather than the much higher pressures required to contain this little bad-ass’s internal bio-machinery.”

Madeline pointed at two diagrams she had called up on the screen and Ayala tried to follow along, the entire conversation seeming like Russian to her. Actually, her Russian was pretty good, this was more like Finnish, she didn’t speak a lick of Finnish.

Madeline continued, “So once the superstructure was stabilized, the cells seem to have worked pretty much as advertized. I don’t know if they are self-replicating yet, well, I know there are more in their blood than I put there, but they haven’t become infectious yet. The two control subjects are unaffected by the antigen so far.”

“So?” asked Ayala.

“So … we’re moving forward well?” said Madeline, confused.

“So … let’s get to the next phase.” Ayala looked at her, waiting, but Madeline did not see where she was going. “Madeline, umm, what do you think we should do with this?”

“We should see if it communicates to the other monkeys then we should infect some unfortunate guinea pig, probably you or I, and see what happens.”

“Madeline, my dear, once we get this out into the population, there is only so much we can do to speed up its spread. No matter how far and wide I travel, there are only so many people I can infect, and only so much affect that will have on our timeline. But every week we wait to start the process is a week added to the end date, plain and simple. And in those final weeks that could translate to billions of people.”

Ayala stared at the younger woman. Madeline knew what Ayala was suggesting, and she understood the logic, but her scientific training was making her balk at what seemed like a simple decision to Ayala.

“Madeline, give me the drug,” Ayala said, already starting to look around the room.

“No, wait, it is only just starting to spread in the monkeys, this thing may still kill them all. We need to see if it is safe, you can’t risk it, not yet!” Madeline pleaded but the other lady ignored her, looking round the room and spotting the two large stainless steel refrigerators in the corner.

Madeline followed her over to them, trying to talk to Ayala as she pulled open the first refrigerator’s door. It contained blood samples so Ayala closed it and opened the second. It was lined with vials filled with clear liquid, and several large bags marked as plasma were hanging on a rack at the bottom.

Ayala turned to Madeline, “Which is it, Madeline? Which one is the agent you gave to the monkeys?”

Madeline stared at the woman, defiant, and in response Ayala’s face transformed, setting into a resolve that, over the years, had been many a person’s last sight before they felt the full force of Ayala’s lethal training. For a moment Madeline was taken aback, then her instinctive fear turned to offense at the thought that her friend might actually hurt her. Ayala saw her young friend’s shock, and she softened.

“Madeline, I’m sorry. Please, of course I would never hurt you, don’t be silly. I may have bristled, but no, not you, I would not have resorted to that with you. You are like family to me. We are in this together, you have to believe that.” Ayala placed her hands on Madeline’s shoulders and felt the tension flow out as Madeline relaxed, the unexpected fear going from her.

“But please also know that I do not intend to wait for one moment more for this test to run its course. Do not let the scientist in you forget what we are facing here. We were given these designs by an alien agent. Possibly the only person risking more than we are, and for much less reward. He would not have given us some halfhearted design. I am going to take that drug today. I am going to take it right now, and then we are going to make a batch for me to take with me. This thing starts now. Whether you want it to or not.”

Madeline’s fear subsided to be replaced with resignation. She was not foolish enough to think she could stop this woman from getting what she wanted. How did Ayala do that? She seemed so …. nice … but then she had this beast inside her. What must she have seen to make her capable of such inherent violence?

Ayala waited, but it was clear she would not wait for long. Madeline relented and lifted a rack of vials from one shelf and walked over to a large, empty metal table. A rack of powered syringes was mounted on one side tethered to a gas tank under the table.

Madeline opened the valve on the tank and the lines running to the syringe guns pressurized. She then unwrapped a clean needle tip from a box to one side and picked up one of the guns, clipping the needle prick to its mounting on the front of the gun. As she loaded one of the vials into the top of the vicious-looking device, Ayala rolled up her sleeve and came to stand by her friend.

They looked at each other. Madeline looked into the resolute older woman’s eyes and warned, “Umm, not your arm.”

Ayala’s eyebrow rose.

“I need muscle.” said Madeline, “Your shoulder would do, but your backside would be best.”

Ayala smiled wryly and turned, unbuttoning her pants. She was not modest so she simply dropped her trousers and underwear to the floor and hiked up her sweater, bending over the table to expose her rump.

Madeline was a little shocked at the sudden exposure of flesh; most people pulled down one side of the pants just enough to allow access, but she soldiered on. “This will hurt a little.” she said.

“I’m sure.” said Ayala, knowing that after she had bullied Madeline into giving her the dose the other woman probably wasn’t going to be gentle.

Placing her left hand on the small of Ayala’s back, Madeline pressed the needle gun’s tip hard against one of Ayala’s cheeks and fired. There was a pop and a hiss as Madeline depressed the trigger, and the thick grey liquid was forced into Ayala’s flesh in a moment. Madeline would not admit it, even to herself, but she was a little disappointed that the other woman hadn’t even flinched. Pulling her pants back up, Ayala turned and faced the other woman and gave her a smile.

“I’ve never been shot with a vet’s gun before.” said Ayala.

“Oh, right. Yes, sorry about that. Can’t rely on young chimpanzees staying still so it’s a little more … intense than the machine I’ll give you for use on everyone else.” said Madeline, stifling a smile.

Ayala nodded and said, “Hmm, well, I hope you’ll be able to recover,” Madeline looked at her confused and Ayala went on, “you know, from being so torn up about it.”

Madeline smiled innocently and went over to a couple of office chairs and sat down, Ayala careful to favor her good cheek as she lowered herself into the chair opposite.

They were silent for a moment while the seriousness of what they had just done settled in. Then Ayala said, “You know I’ll need a lot more of that to take with me, Madeline. We can start with a batch for me to go to DC and Hanscom with, and I’ll make a quick trip to Europe and Israel while I am at it. That should be as much as I can take in one go. After that I’ll come back and get some more so I can go to Asia and India. Then I’ll take one final long trip out to Australia, by way of Eastern Europe, Russia, and Africa.”

Madeline nodded, doing the mental calculations of the numbers of batches involved. They had said that they would try to get the panacea seeded to about five hundred people in the first month or so. That would knock about four months off the diffusion of the drug, the first part being the slowest. After that time, the margin of return of infecting people by hand would be so low that it would not be worth the risk anymore as the infection would be spreading so fast on its own.

It was time to look forward to the next stage. By the time Ayala returned from her three convoluted trips, the team at Hanscom would hopefully have completed their designs for the missile shielding using the initial pieces of superconducting material Madeline had already fabricated and sent to them. Even if they weren’t ready for Madeline to start mass-producing the shield components with the manipulator, she would at least be able to start on the designs John Hunt had already sent to her for the missiles on board the HMS
Dauntless
.

* * *

Neal was never ready for the door to his basement lair to open. Without fail, it scared the living shit out of him. Ayala tried not to laugh when she found him on one knee, pointing the Glock she had procured for him at her, more than a little shakily.

“Now, now, Neal, that seems a little excessive, doesn’t it?” She smiled as he replaced the gun in his drawer with his bags of IDs, including one that had a gun license among its various erroneous, but otherwise perfectly legal, documents.

She rummaged around in her bag as he did this then came over to him and said, “Don’t move, Neal, there is something on your neck.” Neal froze, his eyes instinctively trying to look down to where her outstretched finger was touching him just under the chin. In a swift movement her hand flashed downward and grabbed his arm firmly while her other hand whipped out from behind her back. Before he had even registered the small and vicious-looking needle gun in her other hand, she had it pressed against his shoulder. He flinched as the needle punctured the skin and then, a moment later she was walking away like nothing had happened.

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