The Lethal Agent (The Extraction Files Book 2) (5 page)

CHICAGO REGIONAL HOSPITAL, CHICAGO, NORTH AMERICA

SEPTEMBER 2, 2232

Theo had never felt more useless than he did sitting in Hadley’s hospital room. This time, Arrenstein didn’t send him away, but there was nothing he could do. Theo hadn’t wanted to leave Hadley in the cave that day, but never would he have imagined seeing her again under these circumstances.

He wanted to sleep. They’d been up all night, even before their sudden departure. Somehow, Hadley was the only one able to sleep. She had some of the most graphic injuries Theo had ever personally seen, and from what he could tell, she was a genuinely good person who didn’t deserve that.

Not to mention Rowan was dead. Theo couldn’t muster up a great deal of sadness—they’d hardly been friends—but Hadley and Mable had cared about him, and in his way, Rowen had taken care of them. In that, they were alike. Theo wondered if he would ever have to give his life to keep them safe. Would he have the courage to?

Theo and Dr. Arrenstein sat in two chairs brought in from the hall, placed by the door to be out of the way. Mable sat at the foot of the bed like a mother with a sick child.

Theo realized that wasn’t too far from the truth.

Whispering so as not to wake Hadley, Theo asked, “Can I talk to you in the hall?”

“Not now.” Mable didn’t even look at him.

“Just for a minute. It’ll be quick, I promise. She’s sleeping. Dr. Arrenstein will watch her.”

Mable inhaled and climbed off the bed without moving the bedding at all. Theo walked to the door and held it open as she trudged after him. Her half head of hair was tied low on her neck, shimmering with day-old oil.

“What do you want?” she crossed her arms. Her eyes were little more than slits.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Mable’s lip quivered, and her eyes searched the corridor, like she might find the answer somewhere. “I’m fine. Just tired.” He knew for her to admit it meant she was far worse than he’d ever known her to be.

“I don’t mean that. I mean, are you okay? She looks terrible, and I know you—”

Theo didn’t say another word. Mable covered her face with both hands and lowered her head as she started to cry. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. In fact, he’d wanted to make her feel better. But now that they were here, with her crying, he didn’t know what to do.

So Theo wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He realized for the first time how small she was, how narrow her frame. It was easy to encircle her inside his arms.

And much to his shock, she gave in easily. Mable collapsed forward against his chest and cried, never moving her hands from her face. Her breath was hot against his shirt, and her shoulders shook with silent sobs, but Theo didn’t care a bit. In fact, he almost liked it. He liked to be the one she trusted with this moment.

So he didn’t stop it. He let Mable cry as long as she needed. After a while, her hands snaked around his neck, and she buried her face in the space between her arm and his chest. He squeezed her tight against him, offering any support she needed. He knew this was hard for her.

That’s how they were when Arrenstein opened the door to say something but only stopped and stared. Theo waved him off and watched Arrenstein close the door to leave them be.

And then came the big inhale, when Mable gained control over her breathing. “Oh god, I’m sorry,” she whispered as she stepped back and wiped at her ruined face.

“It’s fine,” he told her, and he meant it.

Her other hand smoothed over the wet smear on the front of his shirt. “I’m sorry, I—” She must have given up after that. She didn’t have anything to say.

Theo put a hand around each of her shoulders. “Hey, you don’t have to be sorry. I know you love her.”

Mable wiped at her face again. “I thought Scholars didn’t believe in love,” she said with a half-smile. Theo realized she was teasing him.

“I’m not a Scholar, remember?”

“Fair enough.” She looked up at him. “Do I look awful?”

Since when did Mable care about how she looked?

Theo smiled and nodded. “Pretty rough. I can stall Arrenstein if you want to go get cleaned up.”

Mable laughed a little. “Okay. Thanks.” She snuck off down the hall as Theo returned to his seat in Hadley’s room.

“Everything all right?” Dr. Arrenstein asked. His eyes were wide with keen interest.

“Yeah, I think so. She’s just upset. You know, we figured something out, right before we got your ecomm.”

Dr. Arrenstein nodded and listened with measured interest. Theo couldn’t decide which he was more concerned about: Mable or the bugs.

CHICAGO REGIONAL HOSPITAL, CHICAGO, NORTH AMERICA

SEPTEMBER 2, 2232

At first, Silas didn’t pay much attention to Kaufman’s ramblings. A hospital room was hardly the time or place to hash out details about bugs. But the longer Kaufman talked, the more Silas heard.

“When Mable opened the jar, the bug broke down in seconds. It looked like an oxidation reaction.”

“She opened a jar?” Silas closed his eyes and sighed. Keeping Maggie in line was like herding cats. He was in no position to humor her whims.

Kaufman confirmed before continuing, telling Silas about the oxidation reaction, the metals in the bugs, the iron.

“But the bugs aren’t metal. Quincy tested their genes, which are abnormal, but still. They’re biological.” It was a ridiculous notion.

“Then why do they have thirty seven percent iron composition? Granted we could only test one that had already decomposed, so the ratio might be slightly modified, but that’s entirely too high for an organism. Humans have 0.00067 percent iron, and it’s a major component of the hemoglobin in our blood.”

Silas shot Kaufman a look, evaluating his features for any sign of humor. It had to be a joke.

As he feared, Kaufman looked dead serious.

“Could the ratio be that far off? I mean, it was dead and in a jar of liquid for years. Couldn’t—”

Kaufman shook his head. “We weighed each jar with the full bug still inside, to get an average. Then we weighed another jar of only liquid. We used the average bug mass to calculate the percentage. It’s as close as we can get without having an actual bug to weigh.”

Silas would have to think about that. Bugs made of metal? What were the implications of that? It was so preposterous they hadn’t even considered such a thing, but at this point, he couldn’t turn down viable options.

He would have liked time to think about it, but before he’d even started, Maggie opened the door.

Her eyes were red-rimmed. Her cheeks were puffy.

She’d been crying.

It killed him to see her so affected, but he understood. Hadley had done to her what she’d done to him.

And she’d discussed it with Kaufman. That was good, he knew. They needed to be close, to trust each other in dire circumstances.

That didn’t mean he liked it.

She stood in front of them and spoke softly but with conviction. “We need to take her back to CPI.”

Silas scoffed. “There’s no way.” Nick would eat him alive.

“Look what they did to her,” Maggie motioned toward the girl on the bed. “We can’t just send her back.”

“What happened, Maggie? You haven’t exactly been forthcoming with details.” Silas clasped his hands together and waited for the explanation.

Maggie crossed her arms. “I made promises that I couldn’t keep.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I had a job to do, but you came and plucked me out of the world.”

“What was the job?”

“A diode.”

“Can you give it to them?”

Maggie huffed and crossed her arms. “No, it doesn’t work like that. She’ll want me to stay. Look what she did to Hadley just to get me to come back.”

“Who wants you to come back?”

“Does it matter?”

“Matters to me.” Silas wouldn’t hear any discussion of Hadley at CPI without the full story.

“Her name’s Katherine. She’s pretty much the boss of the Root. You know, she runs everything, behind the scenes.”

Maggie’s story was starting to come together, but he was sure he didn’t like it. “So you told this Katherine you’d get this diode, and when you didn’t, she killed your friend and injured the other?”

“Right, and if you send her back there, they’ll kill her just to make a point. She has to come with us.”

It made a certain sense, as much as he hated to admit it.

“A few weeks ago, you joined up with CPI to prevent her from joining. Now you’re asking to bring her in?”

“Yes. I am.”

That didn’t change the facts. “Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, but there’s nothing I can do. I’m on thin ice as it is.”

Maggie’s mouth set firm. “You’re the director. You can do whatever you want.”

Silas shook his head. “No, I can’t. I’ve been cleaning up your messes and vouching for you when you break the rules. If I pull any more stunts, Nick’ll blow the whistle on me.” He knew it wasn’t fair to blame her, but it was what it was. She played her part, and now they were both stuck.

“What are you saying? You’re just going to send her back? If that’s the case, then count me out. I’m going with her.” Maggie darted away from them and returned to Hadley’s bedside. This time, she crawled into the bed and lay beside her.

Silas wasn’t finished with their discussion, but he could sense that he would get no further with Maggie until she calmed down.

“Can I say something?” Kaufman whispered.

“What?” Silas snapped back.

“Hadley’s smart, she was a Scholar. I think she would have gone Artisan, but that doesn’t mean she’s not capable of contributing. I think if she wasn’t Mable’s friend, you wouldn’t hesitate to recruit her. You already tried,” Kaufman said as he leaned back in his chair.

Trouble was, Silas couldn’t decide if he was right.

LRF-AQ

SEPTEMBER 3, 2232

The galley was busy for the usual morning rush. Some three thousand Scholars all needed to eat a healthy dose of nutritional provisions before the start of their day. Maybe one of them would have a major discovery today.

“Good morning, Director. What’ll it be today?”

On the other side of the line, Michael spotted Jeremy Bruce, one of the Craftsman support staff. He didn’t have the genetically engineered features of Scholars, but by other standards, he was a good guy. “Good morning, Jim. I’ll have the peach. How’s the wife?”

“She’s great, sir. Just started helping out over at LSS. I think she’s interested in a transfer if a position becomes available, if that suits the LRF of course.” Jim handed over the bowl of peach-flavored provisions and smiled.

“I don’t see why that would be a problem. Have her put in a formal request when she’s ready, and I’ll take care of it.” Michael didn’t bother finding a seat to eat. Instead, he shoved in his provisions in heaping spoonfuls before retreating back to his office. He liked interacting with the support staff, a nice change of pace from the constantly robotic Scholars, but, nonetheless, he had work to do.

Only he couldn’t focus. Not anymore. Not since he’d learned the truth about the bugs. The more he thought about it, the more it bothered him.

Tucked behind his desk, Michael let his head fill with questions.

Parasitic bugs? Brain-eating organisms in his facility? Living amongst them and stealing their best?

How long had this been going on? Had the previous director known? Had anyone?

And why hadn’t he? Why was this kept from him?

He tried to focus on his duties, but the questions continued to pour in—he couldn’t keep them away.

Then, Abigail flew into his room. Her heels stomped as she raced toward him, hair flowing behind her. “We have an emergency. Ares Colony.” Her tone was all business.

“What kind of emergency?” All manners of things went wrong with colonies. Colonists frequently died of famine or disease or other pedestrian causes, but that was the whole point. Colonies were designed to succeed or fail based on their predetermined parameters. They were for data-collection and nothing more.

Ares was the first colony on Mars, but otherwise, it was no different. He couldn’t think of anything that would constitute an emergency.

Instead of answering, Abigail pushed his tablet to the side and planted her own at the center of the desk. A holographic display filled the air between them. The vid looked to be security footage, a green-clad man walking down the corridor of some sort of facility, one he assumed to be Ares.

“He’s a miner from the Martian Mining Corp.”

“How did he get there?” Michael watched the green man walk to the end of the hall where the vid switched to some sort of kitchen area. The man sat and pulled off his mask, his skin darker than even Michael’s.

“Some sort of malfunction in a nav system on a surface pod. His group got way off from the zone, and then he got separated. Details are still coming in. The point is, this is a major interference. You’ve got a meeting with PC in ten.” Abigail stood and crossed her arms.

Michael pushed from his office chair and tried to work up enough energy to be half as perturbed as she was. He didn’t have time to think about a single colony. There were bugs in the minds of his researchers, killing them one by one.

“You’re staring off again. What’s up with you?” Abigail’s heels clicked while he shuffled along.

“Just thinking.”

“Are you shook up about what Dr. Arrenstein said? About the bugs?” Her voice was a whisper over the busy corridor.

“I don’t know what I think about it. Let’s get this done first.”

What was going on with his facility? Things had been so organized until recently. He’d known every corner, every researcher, and every support staff member. LRF had been his through and through.

Now, he felt as if he didn’t know anything. As if he’d been blind for so long, he’d forgotten how to see. And this business with the colony? He didn’t need any other distractions.

The Planetary Colonies wing was located in the center of the LRF. A short walk brought Michael and Abigail to the door where Dr. Ramos waited.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, Dr. Filmore.” The researcher extended his hand. Michael shook it firmly and followed him into the conference room.

The other two PC Scholars were present, already seated and waiting. One, Dr. Travis Earhorn, had hair so white Michael doubted it had ever held color, though he looked to be somewhere in his forties. The other, Dr. Sal Perkins, had light hair and eyes. Amongst Scholars, he was one of the friendliest, though that wasn’t saying much. Still, Michael liked him better than most.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Filmore said as he sat, Abigail in the chair beside him. In her lap, she answered a few ecomms, accomplishing more in a few seconds than he had all morning. “What’s the current situation?”

Dr. Sal Perkins began. “At approximately 2100, an unknown individual was observed on the exterior of the Ares Colony. The adult male made the first observation and notified the female. She used the emergency airlock to grant him access into the colony.” The holograph changed to a pair of ID photos, one of a large, blond man and the other a pretty brunette woman.

“Why didn’t the male grant him access?” Michael listened as Abigail took her notes.

“The male never received the emergency access training. He was the third male, and the training was deemed unnecessary. She was the only one on board who knew how to access the panel.”

“You trained her to bring in outsiders?”

“No, Director. We trained the female on access of the doors so that at such a time as the expansion is approved, she can instruct him on how to access the exterior portion of the colony. Now that seems unnecessary, of course.” Dr. Ramos sounded more than a little offended.

“What did you train her to do for an outsider?” If the female had broken protocol, that could be an easy fix. She and the stranger could be removed, and another female could be selected to take her place.

“We gave her no instruction. It was considered too unlikely to warrant training,” Dr. Perkins answered, cutting off Ramos.

“All right, so you don’t give her any training. She lets in a stranger, a miner, correct?” Michael rubbed his chin with his hand, trying to recall the simple details Abigail had conveyed to him only minutes ago.

“Yes, this behavior falls within her character profile. We selected her because she was exceptionally caring, a trait that has been shown to improve long-term success in colonies with juveniles,” Dr. Earhorn announced.

“I mean, the man is a miner, from one of the Martian mining corporations?”

“Oh, yes. Based on his apparel and our facial recognition software, the man is Siya Walana,” Dr. Perkins answered.

“What do we know about him?”

“He is a twenty-six-year-old miner for the Martian Mining Corporation, specifically their South African arm. He was born in Lesotho to two Craftsmen parents, but he never selected. He has four counts of aggravated assault and an unconfirmed rape charge. A connection in the mining corporation got him off-world before the charges could be investigated.”

Michael sighed. “What are the potential complications?”

“Aside from the obvious propensity for violence, we know almost nothing about him. He’s been on Mars, or an interplanetary vessel, for the last nine years. His psychological health is questionable at best. He may react poorly to the presence of a woman and children after years on a male-only crew, especially given his background. We’ve reached out to his superior to get more information about his condition.”

Michael hated talking about people this way, like they were pieces on a chess board. These colonists were nothing more than mice in a lab to them. Their apathetic analysis disgusted him.

“Any attempts at communication?”

“They’ve commed us about a dozen times, but we have selected not to answer until we have a course of action.”

“What is your recommended course of action?”

“Well, we have two choices. We can terminate the colony, though it represents a considerable financial investment. Or, we can remain neutral and collect whatever small level of data we can.”

“You don’t want to remove the miner?” Michael couldn’t believe it.

Dr. Perkins shook his head. “There is nothing to be gained from it. If the colonists die, the colony parameters will show a failure in the data. It would be an empirical nightmare. Despite the current success of the colony, the data would restrict a second attempt. The Scholar Committee would never approve it after the first showed such a failure.”

“The data would show a failure? You can’t indicate the interference? You can’t just pull him out and let them continue on?”

“The colony is intended to be studied in isolation. The miner violated that isolation, but further involvement with the colony will only increase the contamination. The colonists were selected for permanent relocation. They cannot return to Earth. That leaves us with termination or neutrality. And we need your permission for termination.”

“You won’t get it. Remain neutral if you must, but under no circumstances are you to terminate the colony without further incentive.” Michael stood to signal the end of the meeting. He didn’t need to come down here just to learn they planned to do nothing.

He could have done that from his office.

Abigail stood in a single elegant motion and followed him out, offering her farewells to the doctors. She caught up to him several steps later, when he was already in the large main corridor on his way back to his apartment.

“Don’t waste my time with that. I have enough to consider without being notified every time PC plays god with another colony.”

Abigail answered quietly, her low voice only for him. “I know you do. I didn’t realize they’d already made a decision. They requested a meeting and said it was urgent. They said nothing about termination.”

He knew it was likely true. Michael knew better than to shoot the messenger, but she was the only available target. “They wanted permission to kill fifteen people. For no reason. You need to be better informed. I can’t walk into these meetings blind like that.”

Abigail’s professional tone was cool as ice as she answered. “I’ll be sure to keep you better informed in the future, Director.”