Pressure (20 page)

“Get better,” she whispered.

Paolo didn't stir.

Carrie left the room. The air conditioning in the hallway was a relief after sweltering at Paolo's bedside for the last half hour. After receiving clean bills of health, Carrie and Abhi had both been given permission to come and go freely around the clinic, provided they didn't leave the grounds, and stayed clear of certain restricted areas. Agent Ochse had explained that this was done for their protection and privacy, as well as the protection and privacy of the mercenary crewmembers who were still recovering, and of Alpinus Biofutures itself. Carrie had bristled at these restrictions at first, but she soon admitted that it was nice not having the media poking around. Plus, she understood the company's plight. They were ultimately responsible for what had happened to Takenaka's ship and crew, and their response to the aftermath required a degree of caution. She didn't like it, but she understood it. Even though she knew they would have been out there to kill the creature—creatures—even if Paolo didn't need the poison gland, she still felt responsible for their deaths and felt deeply the accompanying guilt. Why had she let him convince her? She'd chided herself since then, examining her motivations, and discovering only that—when it came to her ex-boyfriend—she didn't understand herself very well. Where Paolo was concerned, Carrie's emotions and thoughts seemed to betray her at every step, like they belonged to someone else.

The remains of both creatures had been recovered and brought back to the clinic in two dump trucks. Both were now on ice in one of the sub-basement levels. For the past few days, Carrie had been assisting Dr. Barbet in studying and analyzing numerous specimen samples. While it wasn't exactly her field of expertise, it was close enough that she'd been helpful. Barbet seemed genuinely pleased to be working with her. More importantly, she welcomed the distraction, and was eager to learn more.

Abhi, meanwhile, had spent his days watching television and playing checkers with the nurses and some of the mercenaries. He had also, much to his delight, obtained a new book full of Sudoku problems.

Neither Carrie nor Abhi nor the mercenaries had been allowed to leave the facility or to contact the outside world. The clinic's phones and Internet service were password protected, but Ochse had assured them all that Alpinus had informed their loved ones of their status.

Carrie turned down another hallway and stopped at a small alcove lined with a row of vending machines. Because neither she nor Abhi had any money after the creature's first attack, Ochse had arranged through Alpinus to get both of them some cash. Since they were confined to the clinic, there wasn't much to spend it on other than items from the vending machines and meals in the cafeteria. She knew Abhi was using at least some of his money to gamble with the nurses and the sailors late at night, but she hadn't asked him for confirmation. She had been invited to join the games once, but had instead been spending most of her free time watching over Paolo.

She ignored the two machines filled with candy and junk food, and the coffee dispenser which usually just took her money and gave nothing in return, and settled in front of the soft-drink machine. Carrie put her money in the slot, made her selection, and retrieved a bottle of water. She placed the cool plastic against her forehead and sighed, enjoying the sensation. Then she continued down the hall, heading for the elevators. She passed by an empty nurses' station. A Creole-dubbed British soap opera played on a small black-and-white portable television, but no one was there to watch it.

She noticed offhand that the two hospital rooms she passed before reaching the elevator were both empty. Yesterday, they'd been occupied by two injured mercenaries. Now, they sat vacant, the beds made up with crisp, clean linens, and the blinds open to let in the sun. Maybe the patients had been discharged? But why would they be allowed to leave the facility while she and Abhi still had to remain behind? More likely, they'd been given partial rein of the facility, as well, and were just occupied somewhere else right now.

It occurred to Carrie that she still didn't have a clear idea of how big or small the Alpinus Biofutures clinic really was. She knew from riding the elevator that there were three stories above ground, plus a basement level and several sub-levels below it. There was a helicopter pad on the roof, which was how she and Abhi had been transported back to the facility after the shipwreck. The outside grounds appeared to be expansive but very secluded. She'd seen more razor-tipped security fencing in the distance, and security guards on patrol. Still, despite all that, she didn't feel like a prisoner. True to their word, the company had done their best to accommodate their patients, and make them feel comfortable. But even with all the amenities, Carrie was anxious to go home. She hoped Paolo would get better soon.

She was determined not to leave without him.

She took the elevator to the basement, shaking her head in disbelief at a Muzak rendition of Depeche Mode's “Enjoy the Silence.” Was she really old enough that one of her favorite bands was now eligible for elevator music covers? What was next? Morrissey over the speakers at the grocery store? Yes, Carrie realized. She really was old enough for that to happen now.

If Mom were still alive, I bet she'd point that out, and then wonder aloud why I'm not yet married.

Carrie grimaced.

The doors hissed open, and she nodded at the guard—a man named Legerski.

“Miss Anderson.”

“Mr. Legerski. Is Dr. Barbet back from lunch?”

“Yes, ma'am. Go on in.”

Like Ochse, Mariotte, and the ever-laconic Maberry, Legerski worked for Alpinus's security division. She'd seen others like him over the past week—perhaps two dozen total. All of them were men. Though there were plenty of female nurses. The agents were all polite enough, but other than Ochse, she'd had no real interaction with any of them other than perfunctory conversations. Ochse had actually been trying to make an effort with her, engaging Carrie in conversation and trying to meet her requests, provided they were in his power to grant. That was how she'd gotten permission to assist Barbet with his work.

He still insisted that she was mistaken about the egg—that she'd misheard the conversation. Barbet had backed him up on this, telling Carrie that it was probably a mild hallucination, an aftereffect of the neurotoxins that had still been in her system. Carrie thought the doctor was being naïve, or perhaps even willingly misleading, but she didn't press the issue, even though it was in her nature to do so. Her hope was to establish a deeper rapport with the doctor first. Whatever the real truth was regarding the egg and its whereabouts, Paolo was now receiving treatment. That was what was important. And the men who had died during the last expedition?

Well, she was sure that Ochse had a conscience, too.

She walked through a set of automatic double doors and entered the lab. The first room was a foyer of sorts, complete with lockers. Carrie drained her water and tossed the bottle in a recycling bin. Then she stripped out of her clothes, placed them in a locker, and donned the necessary sterile protective gear that was required for dealing with these still unidentified specimens. Dr. Barbet had insisted that one of the conditions for her assisting him was that she adhere to these guidelines. Their superiors at Alpinus had dictated that all personnel who had contact with the specimens were to use these cautionary measures. As far as Carrie knew, Barbet, Ochse, and herself were the only ones who had actually been exposed to the corpses since their arrival.

She first put on a pair of purple scrubs, and then an ill-fitting white lab coat. She slipped a rubber vest and apron over the coat, cloth coverings over her shoes, and then snapped on a pair of latex gloves. Finally, from a dispenser next to the box of gloves, she pulled out a surgical mask and fitted it over her nose and mouth. Then, finished with her preparations, she moved stiffly toward another door. She pressed a button on the wall and the door hissed open. Carrie entered the lab itself, and saw an identically attired Dr. Barbet already waiting for her.

“How was your lunch?” His voice was slightly muffled by the surgical mask.

“Good,” she replied. “Yours?”

“Okay. Although the shrimp were a little rubbery. I didn't see you in the cafeteria, though.”

“I spent my lunch break visiting with Paolo. He said his head still hurts, but his leg is healing.”

It was hard to read Barbet's expression, given that she could only see his eyes, but Carrie sensed something in his reaction, or rather, his lack of a reaction.

“Do you think that will pass?” she asked. “His headache?”

“Oh, I'm sure it will, over time. You have to understand, Carrie, despite the work we've done here, I still don't have an understanding of what these animals really are. And because I don't yet have a full understanding of them, I also don't have a full grasp of Paolo's condition. But the antivenom seems to be working, and I'm confident his condition will continue to improve. We just have to give it time.”

He said this last part a little too emphatically, Carrie thought. She wondered if Barbet was trying to convince her—or himself.

Over the last few days, they'd done a number of procedures on various specimens from both creatures. They had conducted a necropsy, and then ran various tests on the exoskeleton, the tentacles, the claws, and internal organs. They had measured and weighed, done density tests, and gotten a closer look at the thorax, reproductive organs, digestive tract, and poison sacs. It had been a slow, laborious, and painstaking process, and each new discovery only left them with more questions. The creatures seemed to possess biological traits of a variety of sea creatures, and so far, it had been impossible to determine their true genus.

The one thing they had successfully solved was the nature of the creature's poison, and how it affected both electronics and neurons. When electrical current was conducted through a material, any opposition that the flow of electrons encountered resulted in a dissipation or disruption of that energy. In normal circumstances, this process generated heat. However, in the case of electronics exposed to the creature, the end result was a lowering of the temperature. It had the same effect on the nervous system of living creatures. The toxin overrode the nerve cells, shutting down the electrical signals and neurotransmitters that regulated the body's functions, thus inducing a slow-acting paralysis. Barbet had described it as similar to shock-induced tetanus—the involuntary muscle contraction and paralysis induced by an electrical shock, like from a Taser. But in the case of living beings exposed to the creature's neurotoxin, the electric impulses within the body were slowly frozen to the point of paralysis. A similar thing happened to any electronic devices exposed to the creature's web—they were unable to generate electricity and became inoperable.

Or, at least, that's what Carrie had understood. She couldn't be sure she'd heard it all correctly, because the events of the last week had left her tired, and much of the science involved wasn't even remotely near her field of expertise. Still, Barbet had seemed pleased with the results. The one thing he still hadn't figured out was what caused the vivid hallucinations. He'd told Carrie that he suspected it had something to do with the human brain's neurotransmitters shutting down—synapses misfiring as the victim's temperature dropped, but he also admitted that was purely conjecture at this point.

Carrie's ruminations were interrupted by a loud yawn from Barbet.

“I'm sorry,” he apologized. “That was rude of me. I'm afraid I'm more tired than I realized.”

“We're both tired. We should knock off early today. You can go home and catch up on your sleep.”

“Oh, I'll be here at the clinic. I have a room on the third floor.”

Again, it was hard for Carrie to read his expression beneath the surgical mask, but she detected a hint of … nervousness, perhaps? Curious, she decided to gently press him further.

“Oh, really? I figured you for a local. I just assumed you'd live nearby.”

“I … I do.” This time, the stammer was definitely noticeable. Barbet was clearly uncomfortable with the discussion. “My home is just a few miles away, actually. But I've been staying here this week, so that I can monitor your friend. And there's just so much yet to be done…”

He trailed off, gesturing with a sweep of his hand at the pile of thawed specimens in front of him.

Carrie's eyes flicked down to the white gold wedding band on his finger, the bulge of which was barely visible beneath his latex gloves.

“Your wife must not think much of that—you staying here instead of going home. Hope she's not the jealous type.”

“My husband, actually.”

“Really? I didn't know Mauritius recognized same-sex marriage.”

“They don't. At least, not yet. We got married in France on holiday.”

“That's awesome. France is beautiful.”

“It is, indeed.” Barbet seemed to visibly relax again. “Don't get me wrong. It's not specifically against the law in Mauritius, but it's not exactly legal, either.”

“Well, that's still better than some countries, I guess.”

Barbet nodded. “Anyway, we got married in France but it's recognized here, for the purposes of benefits and such.”

“So, what does your husband do, if you don't mind me asking?”

“Paul is an architect,” Barbet said, and the pride in his voice was noticeable. But then the sadness and nervousness returned. “We were getting ready to adopt…”

“That's wonderful! A boy or a girl?”

“Well … neither, right now. There have b-been some … complications.”

“I'm sorry.”

Before she could question him further, the doctor yawned again, and nodded at the samples in front of them.