The Dead Room Trilogy

by Stephanie Erickson

  “Colorado State Medical Center is one of the many hospitals nationwide participating in the C-Bot program. I believe the bots have gotten loose and are…well…eating people alive. You need to get there and set off a massive EMP to disable them. Now.”

  “Okay, I don’t know if any of our units have that kind of capability. We will need military aide.”

  In that moment, Hope raced over and slapped the phone number in front of him. He handed her the phone. “Here, you talk to the CDC.”

  Racing across the lab, he picked up the landline and dialed the number Hope wrote down.

  Someone official answered and started to rattle off their title and location of the base. “I need help. My name is Bennett Ashby. Founder of C-Bots.”

  “Hello, Mr. Ashby. It’s an honor to—”

  Ashby cut him off. “I need a massive EMP, and I need it at Colorado State Medical Center now.”

  “Sir, that’s an hour away.”

  “Do you have anything at all that could be used nearby? People are dying.” Ashby was getting desperate. And he was hundreds of miles away.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean people are dying, Sergeant.” He thought that was what the man said his title was. He couldn’t be sure, and he didn’t really care. “Either help me, or I will find someone who will.”

  “Um, yes. Hold on. Let me see who I can find.”

  Ashby was on hold for an intolerably long time. He listened to Hope on the phone with the CDC, trying to help the people at the medical center.

  “Oh, ok, yes. Do that. Hurry, please. Yes, I’ll stay on the line.”

  “What are they doing?” Ashby demanded.

  “Sending in the SWAT team. They have specialized equipment, I guess.”

  Ashby breathed a sigh of relief. It took another three full minutes before the Sergeant came back. “The SWAT team has been deployed, sir. They will be there momentarily.”

  “They have what they need to zap the bots?”

  “A military team isn’t far behind them.” The man didn’t give specific details, but Ashby didn’t need them.

  “They know that when they deploy the EMP, it will disable all medical equipment, right? Are they prepared to deal with the domino effect from that? Ventilators? Heart monitors? Dialysis machines? Everything will come to a screeching halt.”

  “Yes, sir, they are dealing with the issues as they present themselves. I’m sorry, sir, I need to let you go. Things are moving fast now, and require my attention.”

  “Fine. Thank you for your help.”

  The sergeant hung up, and Ashby robotically returned the phone to its base. Hope had hung up by then as well.

  “They’re on their way.”

  Hope ran to the back of the lab and grabbed her laptop off the table. Frantically, she typed in a Google search and brought up a local Colorado news station’s website.

  Across the top in capital red letters, it read:

  INCIDENT AT CSMC POSSIBLE TERRORIST ATTACK

  “What?” Ashby asked as he read the headline. It wasn’t terrorists. It was nanobots. His nanobots. Did that make him the terrorist in this scenario? He frowned, not liking that label at all.

  “Denver Police Department’s SWAT team, as well as a specialized military team, has responded to a call of unknown origin at Colorado State Medical Center. The call is believed to be terrorist centered. No information is available at this time on whether or not hostages are involved. Stay tuned for continuous updates on this story,” Hope read aloud. “That’s all it says.”

  “Refresh the page.”

  She did, but it said the same thing. Terrorist. This morning, the media painted him as a god. A savior. A miracle worker. Now, he was a terrorist.

  “A terrorist,” he spat, sitting back in his seat, arms folded over his chest, totally disgusted with the world.

  “They only said that because they don’t know what’s going on.” She paused for a second and really looked at him. “Maybe that’s best if this never fully gets out. Maybe it’s best if you remain an unknown terrorist.”

  “What? What do you mean? How on God’s green Earth could it be best to label me some heartless killer?”

  “First of all, they haven’t labeled you personally as anything. They’ve blamed terrorists simply because the SWAT team and the military are involved. The media sees a response like that and thinks terror and hostages. Most of the time, they’re right too.”

  “It won’t stay that way for long, though. Our secret will be out. There’s no hiding it. And if it is a malfunction, as Frank implied, the other hospitals should know. The containment rooms, and the bots, need maintenance on a large scale.” It had been about eight months since the first bot went out to the first hospital. It shouldn’t need maintenance already, not for another four months at least.

  “What could’ve gone wrong?” Hope asked, clearly trying to puzzle it out just as much as he was.

  “My first thought is human error. Someone didn’t seal the containment room properly.” Each hospital was given their own containment rooms for the bots, completely lined with the material the boxes were made of. A set of specific codes locked and unlocked not only the room, but also each case inside holding the bots. No way should all of them have been released at once. There wasn’t even a code for that. That didn’t explain why the bots had dumped their programming and started eating healthy flesh again, but he thought he’d take one step at a time.

  “Do you think someone did it deliberately?” Hope asked.

  “I… That hadn’t occurred to me. I certainly hope not.” But Ashby couldn’t deny its plausibility.

  Mendi. The name passed through his mind as if floating on a summer breeze. Although they still worked at the university together, they never saw each other or spoke. Ashby had lunch in his lab, or went to a café around the corner. Despite the fact that he’d been known as the snitch, people still wanted to know him, still wanted to be friendly with him, based on the direction his research was going. As he gained on Mendi, people viewed their relationship as a rivalry, and found it exciting.

  It seemed out of place for Mendi to take that type of revenge on Ashby. He would never sacrifice lives to get back at Ashby. Would he? Wasn’t that what Ashby had tried to do? If he’d been successful, how many people would be dead now because Mendi’s cure was out of the picture?

  Ashby’s mind whirled out of control for the next half hour while they waited for the story to update. Finally, Hope interrupted his thoughts. “It’s under control. They’re reporting ten people have died, maybe more.”

  “Ten people,” Ashby repeated. Ten families who’d lost loved ones because of his ‘miracle.’

  “Are they saying what happened?” Ashby asked, horrified.

  Before she could answer, his phone rang. “Ben. It’s Jen Collings.”

  Jen was his manager of sorts. She handled all his public appearances. Since the initial rush, things had quieted down, and he hadn’t heard from her in a while. Somehow, hearing from her now didn’t give him the normal rush of excitement her calls usually brought.

  “Listen, this thing at CSMC isn’t good.”

  “I know. Frank called me, and I couldn’t get him to answer when I called back.”

  “He’s among the dead, Ben,” she said with little emotion.

  “What?” Ashby breathed. “But I was just talking to him, like an hour or two ago. It was chaotic, but he seemed fine.”

  “Well, he isn’t now. But he isn’t your biggest concern here, Ben. This is a major situation. One that could result in a complete shutdown of the program. I need you to answer some questions, so I know how to best proceed. I’m already trying to steer the media away from you, and most are taking the bait, but a few are smarter than the public gives them credit for. They’re asking the right questions, and my diversions are only fueling the flames. I think I may have to issue a media blackout on this, in order to keep the program going. That involves the military, Ben. It’s seri
ous.”

  Ashby shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with where the conversation was going.

  “Could this have been a malfunction on a massive scale?” she asked bluntly.

  “I don’t believe so. No. Each containment slot holds one bot, and it has a separate code to release it. There is no code to release all bots at once. I believe it was human error.”

  “Or human terror,” Hope said in the background. Jen wasn’t exactly a quiet talker. Hope must’ve been able to hear her from where she stood.

  “What was that?” Jen asked.

  “My assistant thinks someone at CSMC may have done this on purpose.”

  “Is that possible? Do you have enemies?”

  “One that I can think of.”

  “Mendelsohn,” she said without Ashby having to fill in the blanks. There weren’t many secrets between the two of them. She had to know everything, so as to be prepared for any possible smear campaigns. Although she hadn’t needed any of the information until this moment, he was grateful for the hours of grilling months ago, so he didn’t have to explain himself now.

  “I honestly don’t think he would—”

  “It doesn’t matter. We won’t name names, or point fingers. Just say that the program has enemies, enemies that chose to take lives in an attempt to halt the good work the program is doing. It wasn’t a problem with your program, or your bots. It will show a weakness though, and we need to act quickly on it. Up security at all facilities hosting the C-bots. We take swift action against this and show we’re intolerant of flippant behavior with the technology. We pull the program completely from CSMC, and we blame them for negligence.” She talked a mile a minute, as if plotting out her plan step by step as she spoke.

  Ashby remained silent as she planned out the future of his public persona. “This is important, Ashby. If you want to keep working, we have to do some damage control.”

  “Shouldn’t they bring criminal charges against someone if that’s the case? We don’t even know for sure it was anyone, let alone Mendi,” Ashby argued.

  “Not necessarily. We’re just speculating. If they don’t have any evidence, no one will be formally charged. If they do, the responsible party, and I’m not saying that’s Dr. Mendelsohn, will be held accountable. And in this case, they should be.”

  Ashby didn’t respond as he took the time to digest all of this. What was the harm in letting some mystery scapegoat take the fall? Someone had to have opened the containment room, whether deliberately or by mistake. And as a result, ten people were dead. It was right that they should have consequences for that, right? He worked hard to convince himself that it was, in fact, right.

  “Fine. This is how we proceed. I’ll call you with an update.” She disconnected the line abruptly.

  He could tell by Hope’s face she didn’t entirely approve of the direction the conversation had gone.

  “What?” Ashby asked.

  “A scapegoat?”

  “Well. Someone had to have opened the room,” Ashby insisted. And every time he said it, it became more and more true in his mind.

  “Did they really though?” Hope argued.

  He shrugged. “Look, the woman’s right. If we want to keep working, we need to keep the media’s eyes off us. We can’t afford to take the fall for this.”

  “And if it’s right that we should? If it was a malfunction?”

  “Then God help us all.”

  12

  Approximate year, 2346

  The doctor returned and started the transfusion almost immediately. It felt weird, and it looked even weirder. It was a bit of a medieval set up with tiny hoses and red goo going out of her and into Mason. But the longer she sat there, the more color seemed to go to his cheeks. His breathing got stronger. She started feeling a bit lightheaded, but that was to be expected. Or so the doctor said. He’d talked during the procedure non-stop about how he’d read about this kind of thing in what was now Mattli’s library. He seemed almost excited at the chance to do such an advanced procedure. Lehman didn’t share in his excitement.

  After about a half hour of Mattli pacing around, the doctor finally said it was enough. Any more and Lehman wouldn’t recover so easily.

  “We need her in full form today. We should already be on our way to the pyre,” Mattli said, looking out at the completely risen sun.

  Lehman had almost forgotten Alkoff and his funeral. So much had happened overnight. It seemed like weeks ago that Alkoff had passed, not days—hours really.

  She sighed heavily, feeling overwhelmed by the day ahead.

  “Eat something sweet and drink a glass of water. You’ll feel better.”

  Mattli watched her anxiously, and she nodded. “Elder Mattli, I think there are some tea cookies in the pantry. Would you mind grabbing a handful and getting me some water? I’m feeling like I just want to sit here for a moment.”

  She could see the frustration on his face, but it couldn’t be helped. Mason needed her more than Mattli did.

  He returned quickly with the items and thrust them in her face. “We need to go.”

  “Why don’t you head over there? I’ll be right behind you,” she said calmly, trying to smooth his obviously frayed nerves.

  He hesitated. “We should really go together. There are things to discuss.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss. You’ve told me your plans, and I’m in favor of them. I’m sure Mason here would be too if he could say.”

  She didn’t know if it was her imagination, but he seemed perfectly comfortable when she glanced over at him. He was a more normal color, and she thought she even caught the smallest hint of a smile.

  “Do you think he’ll be okay?” she asked, unable to take her eyes off him.

  The question made Mattli stop and go to the young man. He looked carefully at him. Lehman thought he was watching him so closely he must be willing the poor guy to live.

  “I think he’ll be okay. He’s come too far to die now.” He was resolute. As if by saying the words out loud, they had to come true.

  She munched on the cookies and chugged the water while they watched Mason. He didn’t regain consciousness, but he also didn’t stop breathing. In fact, his breathing became more even and deeper, as if he was sleeping soundly.

  “I think he’ll be okay too,” she said as she ate the last cookie.

  “Are you ready, finally?” Mattli said. Lehman couldn’t tell if he was truly being impatient or if he was just needling her.

  “Always waiting on a woman, aren’t you?” she said.

  “Waiting on someone,” he said.

  She stood, feeling a little better, but still fuzzy. She followed him out toward the pyre where they would tell the island their world was about to change.

  Mattli was glad the doctor agreed to stay behind with Mason. Normally when the head elder died, it was customary for every single islander to attend his funeral, but in this case, Mattli made an exception. In the short time Mason had been back, he’d grown rather attached to the boy. True, he’d helped Mason and Ashley several times over the course of the years, but now that they were working so close together, he missed his sense of humor, and his ability to gnaw away at a problem until it was solved. He would make a good leader. Frankly, he already was a good leader, and Mattli didn’t want to see him go.

  But he had other things to focus on. Hours ago, he’d dreaded this moment—saying goodbye to his best friend. But now, it seemed there were things that were more important to think about. Lives at stake. Changes to make. Things to do. Mattli smiled as he walked down the center aisle toward the pyre where his friend lay. He knew Alkoff would be happy he wasn’t dwelling on the old man.

  “Keep your eyes on the island.” That was what he always said. Everything in the name of the good of the island.

  Yesterday, he couldn’t imagine getting through this moment as he turned and faced the crowd of islanders. Today, he almost felt joyful about the exciting things to come. He only wished his best friend c
ould be here to watch how things unfolded.

  “Before we begin today’s proceedings, I have some announcements to make. And I feel it’s only fitting that our former head elder be present to hear them.”

  He turned and smiled at the man, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully, hands folded over his chest, robes cascading down the sides of the pyre.

  “A turn of events has forced me to reevaluate some things. Things that our way of life has been built upon.”

  He shifted his weight and glanced over at Lehman, who smiled encouragingly at him. Clearing his throat, he searched for the right words. The remaining elders stood to either side of him, but there were far from the former nine. In fact, there were only five of them left. Two to Mattli’s left, and one to Lehman’s right. He knew they wouldn’t be happy. Especially Mueller.

  But Mueller didn’t matter. The island mattered. And Mason was right, a new open system of communication would be necessary to go back home.

  “You may notice Elder Branneth, as well as Elder Hawkins, are missing. We’ve had another attack among the elders. Branneth didn’t agree with the selection of Elder Hawkins as my second in command. And rather than accept the decision as something her opinion had no bearing on, she took matters into her own hands. She brutally stabbed him with the weapon used to kill Wesley Wortham just a little over a week ago. I think she thought it was poetic.”

  Mattli ignored the collective gasp that flowed over the huge crowd that surrounded him on three sides. “I came upon her last night just after the crime. She threatened to turn the knife on him again as I approached, so I shot her dead. Simple as that.”

  Silence. Several of the islanders stared at him with open mouths. He took a step toward them and held his hands out to them in an offering of understanding. “Now, I’ve had far too much of this in recent weeks. This power struggle among the elders. So, from this moment on, the elders are dissolved.”

  “What?” the remaining elders called out over the murmuring among the islanders.

  “Silence,” Mattli yelled as he held up his hand.

  Once everyone had settled down, he continued. “The island will henceforth be governed by three main people, with me as your elected head elder, Mason Hawkins, should he recover from his injuries, and Lehman there.” He nodded toward her, and she nodded in acknowledgement. Mattli couldn’t help but notice the open mouths of the other elders, and the anger on Mueller’s face.