The Zero Code (Max Mars Book 3)

by Tripp Ellis

  “You suffered a major trauma to the thoracic cavity. The lower lobe of your lung has been obliterated. That’s why you’re having difficulty breathing. You've got swelling, edema, and pulmonary effusion. But you're lucky. An inch to the left and that blast would have vaporized the left ventricle of your heart and pericardiophrenic artery.”

  “Whatever that means," Max muttered.

  “It means you'd be dead" Glen said.

  “Nonsense. I'm invincible," she said in a weak, half joking voice.

  Glen looked over the rest of her scans and his face twisted up, perplexed. “You've got a fracture to your orbital bone. And all of your fingers have been broken. When did this happen?”

  “A few hours ago,” Max said.

  He looked at her in disbelief. “That’s impossible. They look 3 to 4 weeks old.”

  Max tried her best to shrug, but she was barely able to move her eyebrows.

  Glen and Roland loaded her into the ambulance.

  “Where's Felix?” Max said, fading away.

  “Who?” Lockwood asked.

  Sebastian and Felix were nowhere in sight.

  The EMTs closed the ambulance door.

  “You can follow us down to the hospital, if you’d like,” Roland said.

  Lockwood nodded.

  Roland climbed into the vehicle with Glen, and they sped off into the night.

  Max dozed in and out of consciousness as the sedative took effect. At the rate her body processed medication, it wasn't going to last long. The next thing Max knew, she was being rushed into the ER. Glen and Roland pushed her down the hallway and were greeted by a triage nurse. Glen recited the litany of injuries. He had already transferred her scans to the hospital system, and the hospital staff was ready and waiting for her.

  The triage nurse took over, and a team of ER nurses pushed Max into the OR. They transferred her to the operating table. A robotic arm swooped down from the ceiling and rescanned her at a higher resolution. An instant later, a 3D image appeared on a display screen, and the robotic system listed Max's injuries. Doctor Zuckerman read the scans and programmed in the appropriate surgery.

  He was a thin man with short gray hair and a gray beard. His face was lined with wrinkles. He had been around long enough to see medicine go through multiple iterations. He was one of the few surgeons still practicing that had actually used a scalpel early in his career. New surgeons just pressed buttons and wouldn’t know how to make an incision if their lives depended on it. A fact that he quite often grumbled about at cocktail parties and social gatherings.

  The nurses cutaway Max’s clothing, disinfected the area, and prepped her for surgery. An anesthesiologist gave her a general numbing agent and a sedative. The scanners wirelessly monitored Max’s vital signs.

  Doctor Zuckerman activated the robotic surgical system. The articulated arms dove into action, debriding necrotic flesh and regenerating the damaged lung. They moved with speed and precision. They were more accurate than any human had ever dreamed of being—less than a .003% error rate. Nearly flawless surgeries, every time. The advanced surgical system was able to sample Max’s genetic code and 3D print a new lung from a synthetic bio-matrix that would integrate seamlessly into her body. Tissue rejection was a thing of the past.

  Doctor Zuckerman sat back and watched the mechanical dance. There was little for modern surgeons to actually do besides activate the device, oversee the proposed surgical protocol, and troubleshoot faulty equipment. No matter how advanced the robotic surgical systems became, a human physician was always required to authorize the process. It gave the physicians job security, for the time being.

  Max's vital signs began behaving erratically. Her blood pressure dropped, as well as her respiration. The peaks and valleys of her heartbeat became long and drawn out.

  “I have a problem here," the anesthesiologist said in a panicked voice. "I'm losing her. ”

  Suddenly a steady tone filled the OR. Max's vital signs flatlined.

  24

  Frantic nurses and surgical assistants scurried about. The anesthesiologist loaded a vial of Cardivastex™ into an injection gun and shot it into Max’s arm. It replaced the old-fashioned defibrillators. The fluid contained nanites that traveled through the bloodstream and automatically administered appropriate electrical shocks to stimulate the heart directly. They could be adjusted remotely, if need be.

  After a few tense moments, a solitary blip returned to the vital signs monitor. It was followed by another, then another. Then the normal peaks and valleys of Max’s heartbeat returned. Her vitals stabilized, and the robotic surgical system finished the job. A robotic nozzle sprayed disinfectant into the area, then a regenerative gel. The wound was sealed with a skin bonding gel that adhered at the molecular level.

  Max woke up in a recovery room, wearing a ridiculous green gown. Remote electrodes were affixed to her body. A display by the bed monitored vital signs. There was an IV jabbed into her arm, dripping fluid and pain medication into her system. She felt a little groggy, and the pain was minimal, but it hurt when she tried to sit up. All things considered, she was doing well, considering she had taken a plasma bolt to the chest. Most people wouldn't have survived something like that. But then again, Max wasn’t most people.

  She tried to lift her hand to scratch her nose, but she couldn't move it more than a few inches. Max's weary eyes glanced down to see her hands were cuffed to the railing of the bed. She clenched her jaw and tugged on the restraints a few times to no avail.

  It didn't take long for Lockwood to stroll into the room. He had a smug grin on his face.

  “What the hell is this about?” Max growled.

  “You remember Vicki Purcell, don’t you?” Lockwood held up his PDU, displaying a picture of the pig-tailed blonde.

  “What about her?"

  “She’s dead. And I've got witnesses that say you did it."

  Max glared at him. "You know that's bullshit.”

  “Well, you did storm into her place of business and assault one of the bouncers. It’s not too much of a stretch. Won't be hard for a jury to put the pieces together. Eyewitness testimony seals the deal."

  Max’s eyes narrowed at him. “There are no witnesses. Just like there's no witness against Winston."

  “I’ve let you run around for long enough. Now it's time to reel things in before they get out of hand. You turned out to be much more persistent than I thought.” Lockwood leaned close against the railing of the bed. “Now, you're going to tell me where the zero code is.”

  “I don't know what you're talking about."

  “Of course you do. Sebastian told you all about it, I'm sure."

  “I don't understand. Why are you doing this?”

  “The balance of power is about to shift, and I don't want to be on the wrong side.”

  “Seems to me like you're definitely on the wrong side."

  “Elon Orlov is going to become the most powerful man in the Federation. He will have a legion of robots under his control. Every automated system will be at his mercy. The writing is on the wall. Either you are a friend to Elon Orlov, or you’re an enemy.”

  Max was disgusted.

  Lockwood surveyed Max. “I dug as deep as I could go and I couldn’t find out any information on you without security clearance. You want to tell me who you are? Who you really are?”

  “As you figured out, that's classified."

  “If I had to guess, former Navy Reaper? Perhaps part of some special operations group. Am I getting close? There's something different about you. I smell UIA involvement.”

  Max said nothing.

  “I’m former X-Force, myself,” he boasted.

  “I’m sorry,” Max snarked.

  Lockwood's grin faded. “I’m gonna ask you one more time. Where is the zero code?"

  “Eat a dick.”

  Lockwood didn't look pleased, but he maintained his composure. “Fine. Have it your way. One way or another, we will find the code. It's the one thing th
at can compromise the plan. You don't think Orlov is just going to leave it floating around out there in the hands of some techno geek and a former special operator, do you?”

  Max scowled at him.

  Lockwood pushed away from the bed. “I'm going to leave a guard posted outside your room, in case you have any ideas about escaping. Try to get some rest. I'm sure the nurses will keep a close eye on you, especially after almost losing you during surgery." He had a glib tone that was almost an admission of guilt. The flatlining of her vitals during surgery wasn’t an accident. “I'd hate for some nurse to make a mistake and give you the wrong dosage of medication. People die in hospitals all the time from human error."

  Max didn’t appreciate the not so veiled threat.

  Lockwood grinned and left the room.

  Max was going to be wary of every nurse that attended to her. One of them was going to try and kill her tonight. And there was nothing Max could do about it.

  25

  Max struggled against the restraints. She slid them along the railing, trying to see if she could get better leverage. It didn't look like she was getting out anytime soon. To make matters worse, a nurse came in the room to check on her. She pushed in a cart of medication and equipment—latex gloves, syringes, disinfectant swabs.

  Fear was not something Max was conditioned to respond to. It was a necessary tool for pumping up adrenaline levels and tapping into reserves of energy. But the nurse made Max more than a little bit concerned.

  "How are you feeling this evening?" the nurse asked with a pleasant smile.

  "Fine. I'd be a lot better if I was out of here."

  The nurse chuckled. "I hear that a lot."

  The nurse checked Max’s vitals and took her temperature. "You're recovering remarkably well."

  Max forced a smile.

  The nurse put on some blue nitrile gloves. She took a vial and stabbed her syringe into it, drawing several cc of fluid into the syringe.

  "What's that?"

  "It's just a sedative to help you sleep, plus a regenerative compound."

  "I don't think that's necessary. I can sleep just fine. And as you mentioned, I'm recovering remarkably well."

  "Don't worry, I'm not going to jab you with this needle, if that’s what you’re afraid of,“ she said, brandishing the large steely instrument. "I'm going to administer it through your IV."

  "I really don't think that's necessary."

  "Sorry. Doctor’s orders."

  Max's face tensed. She struggled against the restraints.

  "Don't be such a big baby," the nurse said as she moved to the IV line and inserted the needle into the injection port.

  Max watched helplessly as the syringe emptied into the line.

  The nurse disposed of the syringe in a biohazard container, then snapped off her nitrile gloves. She tossed them in the trashcan, then moved back to the cart. "Use the call button if you need anything. Sweet dreams." She smiled and pushed the cart out of the room.

  Max glared at her. As the door opened and closed, Max caught a brief glimpse of the officer in the hallway. He looked bored to tears and was practically falling asleep on his feet.

  Max struggled with the cuffs again, trying to get leverage to snap the link. If she could twist them just right where they buckled against one another, she might be able to snap the connecting mechanism. But it was next to impossible to do so with the cuffs sliding against the rail.

  It wasn't long before her eyelids grew heavy, and her vision began to blur. She wasn't entirely sure if it was the sedative, or something more.

  Max's vision was beginning to fade when another nurse entered the room. Her heart thumped in her chest, and terror rifled through her body. It was an unusual response for her.

  With her blurred vision, the nurse was nothing more than a teal blob in scrubs. As the figure drew closer, Sebastian's face came into focus. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

  "Not so good. You need to get me out of here."

  "I'm working on it." He held a manila folder in one hand and a pair of folded scrubs under his other arm. He opened the folder and pulled the paperclip from a stack of papers and unwound it. He poked the clip in the keyhole of the handcuffs and fumbled with the locking mechanism for a few moments. The cuff on Max's left hand finally released. She jerked her left hand free.

  "Let me see that. I can do it faster than you."

  “Geez. A thank you would be nice."

  "Thank you." She took the paperclip and and attempted to plunge it into the keyhole, but she kept missing. The medication was affecting her coordination.

  Sebastian took the paperclip away from her and within a few seconds had undone the cuff restraining her right hand.

  Max rubbed her wrists. Her blue eyes found Sebastian and issued another sheepish, “Thank you."

  He grinned with a sense of accomplishment. "Here, put these on."

  Max turned up her lip at the bland uniform.

  "Hey, beggars can't be choosers." Sebastian helped her out of bed, and Max staggered to her feet, unsteady.

  The back of her gown flowed open in the breeze, exposing her ass. Max wondered who the hell designed these things. Surely, in all these years, someone could've designed a better gown.

  Sebastian just stared at her, dumbly.

  "Hey, turnaround," she barked.

  "Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry." He spun around and averted his gaze.

  Max untied the string behind her neck and let the gown fall to the floor. She pulled on the boxy scrub pants and almost fell during the process. She toppled into the monitoring equipment, and clung onto it to steady herself. She glanced to the door to see if the commotion had alerted anyone. Peering through the viewport, she didn't see any movement of the guard.

  Max still had electrodes stuck to her chest as she pulled the scrub top over her head. They were wirelessly transmitting her vitals to the monitoring station. With any luck, she could make it down the hall, or perhaps even out of the building, before they stopped relaying the signal. As soon as her vitals flatlined, a team of nurses would scurry into the room. Or at least, one would hope a patient would receive that much attention. But in a place like this, you couldn’t be sure.

  "Okay, you can turn around now."

  Sebastian looked her up and down. "I buy it. You could be a nurse."

  Max glanced down to her bare feet. "Yeah, a nurse without shoes."

  Sebastian cringed. "Shit, I didn't think of that." He looked in the small closet in the room, but it was empty. The staff hadn’t brought Max’s personal items up to the room.

  Max looked woozy. She felt like the room was spinning. She swayed from side to side, then grabbed the bedside railing to steady herself.

  "Can you make it out of here?" Sebastian asked.

  "I don't know. The nurse gave me something."

  "You're going to need to stand up and walk in a straight line."

  "No problem,” Max said with confidence. She took a few wobbly steps forward, trying to approximate a normal gait. She looked like a drunk failing a field sobriety test.

  "I wouldn't exactly call that a straight line."

  "It's going to have to do."

  26

  “Stay close to me," Sebastian said. He hovered by the door, peering into the hallway through the viewport. When things looked clear, he pushed it open and stepped into the hall. Max followed behind him, holding the manila folder in front of her face like she was reading a medical chart. She swayed slightly, but mustered all of her resolve to fight the medication and walk with a normal gait.

  The officer’s droopy eyes flicked to Max, then away. He was sitting in a chair in the hallway, nodding off. Max's disguise didn't elicit any concern from him.

  Max held onto Sebastian for stability, and they both pretended to read from the folder. Max was starting to list, and Sebastian pulled her back in line. “Just a few more feet. We're almost to the elevators."

  Everything was still blurry for Max.

  Doctors and nurses
scurried about, preoccupied with their own concerns.

  Sebastian pressed the call button for the elevator.

  “Hey,” a voice yelled from the nurses station.

  Sebastian twisted his head to see who was hollering at him.

  “1703 needs some assistance,” the charge nurse said. “Can you two go check on him?”

  “Sure thing,” Sebastian said.

  The charge nurse gave the two a dirty look as they continued to stand there. “Now!”

  “Uh, sure thing,” Sebastian said again.

  The charge nurse squinted her eyes, realizing something was amiss. "Who are you?”

  Sebastian said nothing.

  “You don't work on this floor.”

  The elevator arrived and the two leapt aboard. The door slid shut as the charge nurse hollered for security.

  “Well, we almost made it out without incident," Sebastian said.

  Max reached under her shirt and pulled off the electrodes that were stuck to her chest. There was no sense keeping those on anymore.

  Within seconds, they reached the ground floor. The doors slid open and Sebastian helped usher Max into the main lobby.

  “Freeze! Put your hands in the air,” a security guard yelled.

  Sebastian’s eyes widened at the sight of the angry guard wielding a plasma pistol. Sebastian shoved Max back into the elevator and mashed the button to close the doors. They slid shut as the guard came barreling toward them.

  Sebastian pressed the button for the second floor. Surveillance video monitored them inside the elevator. Sebastian dragged Max off the lift and pulled her down the second floor hallway. It had the same exact layout as the 17th floor, only this level was dedicated to cardiac patients.

  Max tried to fight through the sedation. She struggled to put one foot in front of the other as Sebastian pulled her along. Sebastian led her into one of the patient rooms. An oxygen generator hummed, and an old man lay in bed watching TV with a nasal cannula. He didn't pay any attention to the two intruders racing across his room.