The Dead Room Trilogy

by Stephanie Erickson

  Sighing, he patted her on the shoulder. “All right, prep it for necropsy.”

  He knew what it would show though. The necropsy was just procedure. He’d seen it in all the other rats. The bots weren’t just targeting the cancer cells. They were targeting everything. Literally eating the poor rats alive.

  Sighing heavily, he went to the phone at his desk. He hated having to call his friend, but he needed his expertise.

  His friend answered after one ring. “Mendi here.”

  “Want to help with a necropsy?”

  “Be right there.”

  By the time the rat was ready to go, Mendi was at Ashby’s side. “What happened?”

  “Same thing as always.” Ashby said, the despair palpable in his voice.

  “Let’s just see before we get too devastated. Fellow could have died of old age. You never know.”

  Ashby raised an eyebrow at his friend, and he chuckled.

  “Keep a happy thought, man.”

  “You have to admit, it’s hard to do with your subject dead on the table in front of you.”

  “Touché.”

  Ashby checked the surroundings to make sure all necessary equipment was out of range, and then turned on the EMP wand. He waved it over the poor rat, destroying another of his precious monsters.

  Then, they got to work. It didn’t take long to see that Ashby’s assumptions were correct. The poor rat’s innards were completely destroyed.

  “Jesus, Ashby. You can’t unleash this on people,” Mendi said from behind his medical mask.

  “I know,” he said through gritted teeth.

  They only explored for a few more minutes. What was the point? There was nothing left of the little beast. The robot had consumed everything. Ashby was surprised the rat had lived as long as he had with such minimal organ function.

  Ashby sat on the metal stool behind him and took off his gloves, tossing them on the table as he went. He pulled down his mask and turned to his assistant. “Clean this up, would you?”

  The girl nodded. Although her face was covered with a mask, he could tell she was frowning, still struggling to hold back her emotions. He couldn’t say he blamed her. He didn’t enjoy reducing the rats to that. He wanted a success as much as she did.

  Mendi took off his gloves and mask, and then went to the small cabinet across the room, the one just above Ashby’s desk. He poured two plastic cups of scotch and came back.

  Silently, Ashby took the cup and drank. It was a tradition, scotch for failures, champagne for successes. They’d already cracked a bottle for Mendi, when he first successfully edited a strain of cancer’s DNA and watched as it destroyed itself. Ashby’s champagne was still in the small fridge just under his desk. And Mendi had a fresh bottle in his fridge reserved for human trials.

  “I have something for you,” Mendi said, putting his cup down on the table behind them. He reached into his lab coat and pulled out a brown, leather-bound book.

  Ashby put his own drink down and took the book. “What’s this? The secrets of nano engineering?”

  “No. It’s blank. To…write your thoughts.”

  Ashby puzzled at it. He knew Mendi did that sort of thing, but Ashby wasn’t the introspective type. He didn’t brood over his thoughts. He had Mendi for that. And Judy for that matter.

  “It’s for things you don’t want to say out loud to me. It might help to get them out. Maybe get you to a solution to this.” He’d picked up his glass by then and gestured toward the now-empty table in front of them.

  This. The dead rats. NASA. If Ashby couldn’t get the bots to listen, he couldn’t very well unleash them on anything expensive that NASA might want them for.

  Ashby nodded at his friend and set the journal aside. They sat in silence while they drained their glasses. Even after they were empty, they sat staring into the plastic cups, as if they would find the answer to the problem there.

  Then, Mendi stood up so abruptly it nearly knocked Ashby off his stool.

  “Ashby! What type of cancer do these rats have?”

  “I just gave them lung cancer. Thought I’d start with a big one.”

  He nodded. “It doesn’t matter the type.”

  “Then why did you ask?” Ashby demanded, getting frustrated with the questioning.

  “No, that’s not what I meant. The specific type doesn’t matter. But that there is a type does.”

  “Not following you, Mendi.”

  By this point, Mendi was pacing around, anxiously brushing his hair out of his face. Ashby didn’t understand how the man wasn’t bald the way he roughly pushed his hair back so frequently. But it definitely kept growing. He self-consciously scratched his own head, avoiding the new and growing bald spot on the back.

  “What if you taught the bots what to target? Like a bloodhound. Give them the scent of the cancer they need to eliminate.” His eyes were wild, and Ashby knew he was on to something.

  Ashby sprang from his chair and went to his microscope, where the bot with a broken leg was waiting for him.

  “How do I teach a robot what to eat?” Ashby asked into the microscope.

  Mendi clapped his friend on the back, smiling wide. “You’re about to find out.”

  2

  Approximate year, 2346

  Mason sat on the floor of The Dead Room, mesmerized by their savior’s accounting of how the world came crashing down, and how it was he who set it all in motion. Days ago, Mason had been a fugitive on the run. Now, he suddenly he found himself second in command, sitting on the floor of a secret room deep inside the island, holding information that singlehandedly dismantled everything he thought was true about his world. And once he’d read the entire journal, he wasn’t sure he wanted that information.

  The book Mason’s best friend had given her life for fell into his lap, and his eyes went to it. The words scrawled on the first page screamed at him, refusing to be denied.

  I am Bennett Ashby. And I am not the savior.

  No, he certainly wasn’t. In fact, that Christian Mendelsohn person was probably closer to being a savior than Ashby ever was. But, of course, they’d never know now. Not after what Ashby did to him.

  “I don’t believe it,” Elder Mattli said, startling Mason into a standing position.

  He grasped the open book in one hand. “When did you come in?” Mason demanded more harshly than he meant.

  “When the timer ran out. I was worried you’d been consumed by the nanobots, and I wouldn’t find much left of you. Imagine my surprise to find you sitting here reading.” The old man shrugged. “You were so absorbed that you didn’t even notice me sit down next to you and start reading. And soon, I knew why. Ashby’s a fraud.”

  It sounded harsh to Mason’s ears, and he winced. “Now, now, that’s a bit harsh don’t you think?”

  Mattli’s expression hardened. “No. I don’t think so. He betrayed us all.” The hurt in his voice was more than palpable.

  “No. You’re taking this too personally. And frankly, you owe your existence to him. Such as it is, anyway,” Mason argued.

  “That’s not true. If he hadn’t…well, if he’d acted more honorably, we’d all be living happily together on the mainland.” He sounded like a spoiled child, and Mason couldn’t help but laugh.

  “It’s not overly productive to debate that at the moment. What we need to do is use this book to take back the mainland.”

  3

  February, 2023

  A breakthrough. It came shortly after Mendi gave Ashby that journal. Maybe it helped, maybe it didn’t. Either way, he was meticulously recording everything in it.

  His rats were surviving. Not only were they surviving, but they also were thriving. Feverishly, he documented the rats’ conditions, collected data, wrote in the journal Mendi gave him, and waited. He needed to be sure.

  Then the scans came through. With shaking hands, he dialed his friend.

  “Mendi.”

  “You have to see this,” Ashby said. Mendi hung up, an
d Ashby slowly lowered the phone, staring at the scan across the wall.

  Mendi burst through the double doors to Ashby’s lab and rushed to his side, his hair as disheveled as Ashby felt.

  Ashby gestured silently to the scans he stood in front of, and Mendi stepped closer, examining them.

  An excruciating silence stretched out between them as Ashby waited for his friend to confirm or deny his breakthrough.

  “You’ve done it,” he whispered, nose to nose with the scans. “My God. You’ve done it.”

  He raced over to the cages, searching frantically for the subject. Ashby struggled to catch up.

  Pointing to the patient, Ashby said, “This one here.”

  The rat was happily chewing on some berries, and it had a half-empty water bottle.

  Mendi’s laughter started out quiet—a chuckle. It grew until he was jumping up and down, hugging Ashby, and then they were both laughing. Ashby’s assistant stood in the corner. She was crying happy tears as the two men celebrated the breakthrough.

  “How about that champagne?” Mendi asked.

  “Yes, sir. I do believe it’s time.”

  As they sat on the round metal stools, toasting the surviving rat, Mendi had a question. “So, what’s next?”

  “Chimps, I think.”

  “Mmm,” Mendi said through a sip. “Bit early for that, don’t you think?”

  Mendi was still working with chimps, having held off on his own human trials, wanting some assurance his technique worked before exposing actual people to it. Ashby could appreciate that, but the excitement of his own breakthrough pushed him forward.

  “No. We’ve proven it works in rats. That’s all you need to do really. I’m confident it will work on the next step. The science is there.”

  “I don’t doubt that, but there’s a lot to think about…variables to consider.”

  Ashby bristled. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying you shouldn’t be reckless with the science. It could cost you. Take the time to duplicate your results is all. Better safe than sorry, don’t you think?” His tone was anything but hostile, but all Ashby heard were the words, and they cut him to the core.

  “Just because you’re being overcautious doesn’t mean it’s entirely necessary or that we all have to proceed the same way.”

  Mendi tipped his head and raised his glass, conceding the point.

  Ashby sat rigidly on his stool, his moment ruined by Mendi’s doubt. He set his glass down hard on the metal table in front of them, no longer in the mood to celebrate.

  He stood so abruptly, Mendi nearly spilled his drink. “Well, I have a lot of paperwork to do now. Thanks for sharing a drink.”

  Mendi’s mouth hung open, half-full glass still in hand. “Now, Ashby, don’t be like that.”

  But Ashby didn’t respond. Instead, he went to his workstation and diligently started opening files.

  Mendi sighed. “Ben, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  Ashby cut him off. “No problem, Mendi. I’ll catch up with you later.” He waved a hand over his shoulder at him without turning around.

  Mendi shrugged and left. Once Ashby was alone in the lab, he seethed for a few moments. Mendi was just jealous. How dare he try to stop his progress? But, soon, the rage subsided, replaced by logic. Mendi wasn’t the jealous type. Unlike Ashby, he was always happy for his friend’s successes. What if what he’d said actually held some merit, because he really did have Ashby’s best interests at heart?

  Ashby shook his head as he stared at the forms he had to submit to get his research ready for the next step. Getting chimps would mean a total changeover of his lab. Pages and pages of data, paperwork, and disruptions. It would be a project all on its own.

  His assistant reappeared. “Mr. Ashby?” she said, voice almost tentative, apparently sensing his unstable mood.

  “Yes?” Reluctantly, he turned his chair around to face her.

  She held out a small index card to him. “If you use this login information, I’ve had most of the forms filled out for you for weeks. You just have to fill in the successes, update the dates, and provide your online signature. Then, you’re good to go.”

  He could kiss her. He jumped out of his chair and hugged her, startling the girl. “Thank you, Hope. You’ve saved me days of work here.”

  “I know.” It was frank but not arrogant. Of all the people he’d had working in his lab, Hope was unique. She genuinely wanted to help him, not just further her career or move on to the next thing. She wanted to be helpful to him in this moment. And she was. Hugely.

  “Do you think it’s too early to submit?” It was only one rat after all. The risks were enormous. But they didn’t have time to wait. Mendi was breathing down his neck with successes. More than that, he believed in his bots.

  “Would I have filled everything out for you already if I did?”

  Ashby smiled widely at the girl, again filled with the urge to kiss her. “I knew I kept you around here for something.” He winked at her, and she smiled sheepishly. His mind raced with the possibilities of what was to come as he turned back to the computer.

  She’d filled out just about everything. Enough that he could submit that day if he wanted to. He wasn’t sure he should. Maybe he should sit on it for a night. Sleep on it. Make sure his rats were still doing well in the morning.

  His finger hovered over the touch screen while he watched the cursor blink in the last empty field. An online signature was all that was needed to say the information was true and correct.

  “To hell with it.” He flourished a signature in the field and hit submit, and then refilled his champagne glass, toasting the screen.

  “Godspeed to us.” Taking a sip from the glass, he turned his back to the monitor and watched his assistant as she carefully removed their prized rat from his cage and gingerly petted him.

  For every breakthrough, there were at least two setbacks. Ashby knew this well, and so did Mendi. Ashby just hadn’t expected this type of setback. The disappointment hit him in a way it never had before. He had so much riding on that breakthrough, and it all came crashing down with a single rat.

  With his approval for chimps still pending, he reluctantly dialed Mendi. Although Ashby and Mendi continued speaking, eating lunch together, and going on as if nothing had happened between them, there was a distance, a coolness that wasn’t there before. And now, Ashby had to reach out to his friend. Bridge that gap. He warred with himself, hating that he needed the man, but still needing him just the same.

  Swallowing what was left of his pride, he dialed Mendi’s lab.

  “Mendi.”

  “My rat died.”

  “The survivor? Why?” The concern in Mendi’s voice was clear as a bell. Suddenly, Ashby felt like an idiot for causing the fight to begin with.

  “I was hoping you could tell me that.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  And just like that, whatever had happened was water under the bridge. Mendi was at his friend’s side at the necropsy table yet again, but what they found was surprising.

  The rat looked just like the last one. Its innards had been decimated by the bot until there wasn’t enough left to sustain life.

  “How long had the rat been sick?” Mendi asked, his voice muffled through his mask.

  “A while,” Ashby admitted. He never figured out why, although seeing it now, he should’ve. The bot hadn’t stopped when its quarry was gone. Seek and destroy was its mission until it was turned off, but it wasn’t really that easy. Once inserted, the bots couldn’t be turned off without doing collateral damage. At least, not yet.

  “This is a problem,” Ashby said, sitting down on the round metal stool behind him. He tossed both of his gloves on top of the rat for good measure.

  “For every problem, there is a solution.”

  Ashby searched his brain. “Who’s going to want a cancer-eating robot that also eats your entire body once your cancer is gone? It’s an exponentially wors
e side effect than anything on the market today. It’s a death sentence.”

  “Those are the facts, not the solution,” Mendi said, frustrating Ashby a little bit.

  He took a breath, trying hard not to lash out at his friend. “What do you suggest?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  “All you need to do is teach the bots to heel.”

  That night, Ashby stayed late, writing feverishly in the journal. Teach the bots to heel. He said it like it was so easy. But the more he thought about it, the more complex it was.

  Then, an idea hit him, and he dialed his friend. “What if I just shut it down and left it in the body? Then it wouldn’t destroy anything else. Right?”

  “Hello to you too,” Mendi said.

  “Is that right or not? You’re the doctor.”

  “It is and it isn’t. You need to get the bots to do their job as quickly as possible. The rats may die anyway, because the bots might poison the subjects. Radioactive materials don’t play well with the human body. More studies would have to be done to see what damage they could do in the long term.”

  “Mmm,” Ashby said, thinking. More time. More studies. It was a luxury he didn’t have, with Mendi and his miracle cure breathing down his throat.

  “It certainly is a step in the right direction, if nothing else, Ben,” Mendi offered, and Ashby could hear the clanging of a plate landing in the sink.

  He glanced at his watch. It was later than he thought. He’d missed dinner. “Yeah. Thanks. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

  Dinner. The thought made him pick his phone back up. It only rang once before his wife picked up.

  “Where are you?” she asked, more than a little irritated.

  “I’m sorry, love. I’m still at the lab. I had a bit of a setback today, and I’m trying to work it out.”

  “Yeah, well, your setback is ruining my dinner. I’m trying to salvage it as we speak.” She seemed stressed out.

  “I’m so sorry. I’ll be home soon.”

  “Good,” she said, a bit more shortly than usual. Then she hung up.

  That wasn’t like her at all. They always said I love you at the end of a conversation. He decided to swing by the store and pick up some cheap flowers on the way home as a gesture of good will.