The Romero Strain (24 page)

He paused momentarily, drew a breath and exhaled with a sound of despair. “I was a detainee, in this very office, cautioning the colonel about his decision regarding the transmutes when the alarm went off. The duty sentry escorted the NCO, the colonel, and myself to the command center, but before we entered, Captain Robbins and Sergeant Smith intercepted us. The captain ordered our escort and his sergeant to the other side of the building, while he took us in. The captain intended to join his men, however, as he left the Biohazard Detection System went off and the facility went into full lockdown. Captain Robbins saw on the monitors what the transmutes were doing to his men. He wanted out, but his keycard would not work. There was a security protocol in place, locking out all security clearance for a twelve-hour period. Robbins ordered Corporal Schwartz to bring up the security override protocol program; he was going to let himself out. The colonel told him to stand down. Robbins informed him that his authority superseded his. When he refused to obey the colonel, Security Specialist Josefsberg drew his pistol, but the captain was too quick. He grabbed the colonel, put a gun to his head and ordered Josefsberg to relinquish his weapon, threatening to kill him. The security specialist complied. The captain then ordered Derek to disregard anything the commander said. He was to take orders directly from the captain. Derek would not obey. I tried to reason with the captain but he refused to take no for an answer, so the captain pointed his weapon at Derek and told him that if he did not obey his order it was treason and he would shoot him and the colonel. Again, I tried to reason with the captain, but his response was a pistol to my face. When this happened Derek told him
no.
Derek raised his hand, the captain shot him and Derek fell back into his chair. The bullet went through his hand and into his neck. The blood spurted everywhere. Then the captain shot him again, in the chest.”

He paused again. I could see the anguish in his face he was trying to hide. “If I had not challenged the captain, Derek would still be alive.”

“Who gave the captain the nicked artery?”

The doctor answered by continuing with his story, “After he shot Derek, he pushed the chair aside and accessed the program himself. Next thing we knew, doors all over the base started to open and close again. A warning came on screen and over the command center speakers regarding the exterior ventilation and a contamination breach. The transmutes were tearing up the labs. The decontamination protocol triggered. But that idiot had the doors open, so when it initiated it took out more than just the labs, it took out some of his men. What he did to Derek made me angry, more angry perhaps than afraid for my life. I had a refillable pencil in my shirt pocket; when he turned to leave, I drove it into his neck as hard as I could. I was not trying to be a hero. I was just angry. Then I became fearful, for the wound did not incapacitate him. When he turned around, I thought he was going to shoot me, but he hunched over and pulled out the pen. Blood spurted from his neck. I saw an opportunity and I ran to the bio storage room. A few soldiers near the labs were helping their fellow servicemen by pulling the door open, hoping to escape. I could see the men trying to squeeze through to no avail. I made it to the bio room. It was my intention to retrieve the antiretroviral and return to the command center, but the captain had not succumbed to his injury. He caught me by surprise and started shooting at me with a rifle. He missed, and then collapsed. I did not wait around for him to have another chance. I took what I had gathered and headed to the command room. I pounded on the door, but no one responded. I kept hearing gunfire down the hall, which was replaced by a loud, ghastly screech. It was time to leave. I did not know if my security card was going to work on the emergency exit, but that was the only way to go. And that is the truth.”

With what I had discovered and the rest of the information he supplied, the puzzle was complete, with the exception of one small but crucial piece: the source of the airborne virus. He was never going to tell the truth, unless I bitch-slapped him with it. This time I did it with my intellect, instead of my hand.

“Ah, finally the truth.” I was about to give him his slap. “Just enough to pass as believable, but not enough to implicate yourself in any wrongdoing.”

“I told you the truth about what happened. There is nothing more I can tell you.”

I let him have it. “‘Knowledge rests not upon truth alone, but upon error also.’”

France was defensive. “Are you accusing me of lying?”

“When we first met, you said you weren’t infected because the Trixoxen had a pathogen route of entry through the gastrointestinal tract.”

“Did I?”

“You know damn well you did. You didn’t go to bio storage for anything noble. There was no need to get any antiretroviral, since it was not a respiratory pathogen––until you had a helping hand in releasing one.”

“Your accusations are unfounded. I told you—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up! I know why you went there. It was opportunity. You wanted something out of that room. I don’t know if it was actually the antiretroviral or if it was one of your viruses, but—”

“I assure you that my intentions were—”

“Dick, we all know what you took… that little kit of yours. But there were other viruses in that storage chamber. Did you actually believe that one of us wasn’t going to figure it out? I know how to read a specimen label.”

He looked at me in disbelief. I paused momentarily, waiting for another lie, but he decided against it. He just sat silently.

“Dick,” I continued. “I’m waiting for an answer.”

He stammered on his first few words, gathering himself. “It… it was an accident! You understand? I did not know he—”

“Yes, Dick,” I interrupted, “an accident. I believe you,” I assured him. “But I need you to tell me about what got loose.”

“All the vials in the room contained various strains of Trixoxen.”

“And how many strains would that be?”

“Ten,” he murmured.

“Ten!?”

He became defensive. “You do not understand. Translating a hypothesis into an actual viral agent is a difficult step. The research and development process goes through many defined stages. First there is the preclinical aspect—cell culture, fermentation, viral replication, recombinant DNA—during which we develop the pathogen’s biology through genetic engineering. Once a sequence strain has been developed in the lab, it is put through a series of tests and gradually improved or terminated. In order to view the steps in the biological process, dozens of specimens must be viewed at various stages in order to capture each desired step in the process. It is a tedious but necessary phase.”

I put my hand to my face. I hoped it wasn’t going to be a Sam Drukker-style dissertation.

“Get to the point,” I said, with slight irritation.

“Once we have determined we are on the right path, we move into clinical experiments where the viral agent is first introduced to monkeys, which are biologically similar to humans. However, animal models are useful, but only up to a certain point. Despite the similarities, monkeys are also biologically different from people—”

I interrupted with a snide comment. “You don’t say.”

He continued his lecture without acknowledgement or pause. “Then we move into clinical trials on human test subjects, where we determine the genetic hypervariability of the virus. Clinical trials are conducted in three sequential phases, each enrolling larger number of volunteers. We did not have the luxury of this type of trial, so only a Phase I trial could be conducted. If we had developed a viral agent that could have given us the results we were trying to achieve, then the next step would have been testing the virus on a larger group to gather risk and pathogenicity data.”

“What does all that have to do with the price of bananas in Uganda?
Simplify!
”

“All viruses are destroyed once we determine that they cannot be improved. They are considered non-viable specimens. Only the data is saved.”

“But they weren’t, were they? Are you about to tell me that multiple airborne strains were released?”

“There should have been none. The door sealed as I left. The decon protocol should have destroyed everything.”

“But it failed, didn’t it? So, how many viruses?”

“There was only one that could have become airborne. The last one we developed. The one with the most promise… Trixoxen 4-8-10. It was protean.”

“
Protean!?
Jesus, Joseph and Mary! This just keeps getting better,” I sarcastically said.

France continued. “I was ordered to secure all remaining specimens along with all accompanying research documentation and have them transported to another research facility. They wanted to review all the data which led up to the discovery of the transmutes.”

“Ah, yes. The transmutes. There’s a subject that is near and dear to me.”

“Why?” he asked.

I presented him with his diary.

“Where did you get this?” he demanded to know in an angry tone.

“From your room, Doctor… along with this.” I slid him the letter I had found.

“You broke into my room and stole my private property!?”

“Stealing is such a strong word, Doc. Let us call it salvaging what was abandoned. Do you have any clue as to what the transmutes are? You told us a detailed story about how you tested soldiers with the delta-32 mutation, and it was all bullshit! You weren’t testing people; they were doing it at a place called Fort Wyvern. Project Night Owl, as it was being called, was out of your control. You were being reassigned under Doctor Josephson.”

“That is not true. The transmute phenomenon was discovered here. The initial study was done here! You saw those things.”

“I don’t think any of you knew anything about the creatures. They’re a lot smarter than you think. They’re also not devoid of emotions. There was more humanity left in them than you knew.”

“You have no idea what you are talking about. You have had no interaction with them except to kill them.
I
discovered them.
I
studied them. You seem to be confusing fact from fantasy. This is not one of your science fiction films.”

“Are you sure about that? I didn’t kill any transmutes, but I did save one. Luci Leinster!” The doctor gave me a look of fright and confusion. “Look at you. You’re all freaked out.”

He pointed an accusing finger at me. “You are a liar! They are predatory creatures and would not allow you to get near them.”

“Doc, maybe you forget about a simple basic fact of life. When a creature, human or otherwise, even as fierce as a transmute, has no energy to defend itself, it has no choice but to succumb. Her name was Luci, Luci Leinster.” I slid the file folder across the desk to him. “Go ahead, pick it up! Do you remember her, Doc? Do you? One of your court-martialed volunteers… another lie! Well!?”

“Yes. Yes. This was the specimen Doctor Josephson insisted we transport alive. The females were not as predominant as the males. The female to male ratio was low, that is to say that the experiments showed that a male was more likely to transmute than a female.”

“Specimen. How nice of you to dehumanize what you have done. The transmutes retain more of their humanity than you think. Luci still remembers her name, has emotions, and can physically communicate.”

“That is
not
possible. The data in conclusive.”

“
Really?
Then I say you’re grossly incompetent at your job.”

“You have no research to substantiate this ridiculous claim!”

“Don’t I? I spent time with her.”

“What were doing in those hours you were gone?”

“You mean besides tending to her wounds? Should I spell it out for you? I was… fornicating.”

“
What!?
”

“You heard me. I had sex with her. Several times.”

“How is that possible?”

“What’s the matter, Doc? You’ve never been laid? Is that your problem?”

“Are you attempting to be snide?”

“And here I thought you weren’t observant.”

“Why would you want to copulate with that
thing?
”

“If you call her a
thing
again I’m going to reach across this desk and smack you into next week. Her name is Luci. Got it?”

Needing to understand my actions, the doctor responded with, “Fine. What possessed you to copulate with Luci?”

“Is this a scientific inquiry or are you generally just fascinated?”

“Both.”

“Have you forgotten that I’m part transmute? Instinct took control. I knew what I was doing and I wanted to do it, yet I wanted to fight the urge and keep in control.”

“Fascinating. And this mating was strictly a physical act of propagation, or was pleasure derived from the act?”

“First you’re appalled and now you’re weirdly curious. You’re a queer little fellow, aren’t you?”

“My sexual preferences have nothing to do with this!” he replied, taking offense.

I clarified. “I was referring to you being odd.”