“Steady on.” One said. He touched Steven’s arm gently with his gloved hand. “You only have so much air. We’re here because Julian called us in. He’s a mandatory reporter, you know.”
Steven blinked, and looked back at the... gremlin. It was as good a word for the twisted thing on his bench as any. “Mandatory reporter of what? And I can at least splint that leg and get the, um, bleeding stopped.”
“Good man.” One started to look in drawers. Julian headed for the first aid kit.
Julian roared over his shoulder as he pulled packets of bandages out of the case on the wall. “Reporter of unexplained lab phenomena, Lad.”
Steven held out his hand for the bandages. He looked at them. “Scissors.”
One put a pair in his hand. Two was still holding the door open, like he was afraid if he let it close, they wouldn’t be able to open it again. Which they might not, Steven realized. He didn’t know what the lab’s security system would do after this prolonged a breach. “Stabilize him,” One ordered in a clipped voice, “and we will transport him. We’re on a tight deadline.”
Steven knew that. He had no idea how long their air would last, or what the stench in the lab was doing to the gremlin, but it couldn’t be good. “Are you with the government?” He asked as he put pressure on the lacerations. They were superficial and looked like they’d happened when the gremlin had been caught in the trap by one leg, then pulled it back in with him.
“What?” Julian asked.
Steven turned toward the other man. “You. Are you with the government?”
One, who was holding a ruler, handed it to Steven. “Yes,” he answered.
Trust Me, I’m from the Government
Steven looked at the ruler and realized they meant him to use it for a splint. He turned away from the bench, and his frail patient, and bent the plastic until it snapped in half. Then he guided Julian’s hand to hold the gremlin’s hand in place. Splinting was dangerous, done wrong. He risked cutting an artery with broken bones, internally. Although if that was going to happen, the gremlin would likely have already done that when he was trying to free himself from the trap. Once the leg was stretched out and the bones aligned, Steven quickly set the splint up and then strapped the whole thing to the gremlin’s chest, so he couldn’t move it too much when - if - he regained consciousness. Then he turned to face One again. “Quick. I need to know now. Are you going to, like, cut him up and experiment on him?”
“What?” The surprise on the other man’s face was genuine. “Oh! Oh, no, he’s much too valuable...”
“Ok. How are you going to get him out of here unseen?” Steven made a snap judgement. There weren’t a lot of other options open to him, anyway, not three against one and a contaminated lab. Besides, he didn’t even know why he wanted to protect the little green guy, anyway, other than training about patient care and a perverse impulse to always stick up for the underdog. This wouldn’t be the first time that had gotten him in deep.
“Um.” This clearly had not occurred to the government man.
“I know how to do it, but you’re going to have to figure it out from there.” Steven started speaking very quickly, standing face to face with the other man so he could be sure he was hearing Steven’s plan. After a minute, the man started to nod.
Julian put his hand on Steven’s shoulder when the government man walked out of the lab to get what they needed to pull this stunt off. “His blood is corrosive.”
“Oh. Do we have... Yeah, that.” Steven saw that his boss was holding a pair of the tyvek lab coats he rarely wore and hated because they didn’t breathe. “Will that work?”
“For a couple of minutes?” Julian started to gently wrap the gremlin in them. “You seem to have staunched the flow, anyway, so he’s not exactly leaking a lot.”
“You know him, don’t you.” Steven picked up the odd bundle and cradled it, feeling like he was holding a baby. He glanced down. A very ugly baby.
“I’ll explain later. They’re coming for you.” Julian pointed.
Steven met the man with the gurney in the hall, and awkwardly climbed up on it, snuggling the gremlin down next to him and letting the blanket be pulled up to his chin, hiding the small bundle. Behind him, he heard the lab door close, but the alarm continued to wail. Then the gurney started to roll, and Steven closed his eyes, wondering how his patients had dealt with the feeling of helplessness while they were being transported. It hadn’t really occurred to him before; their anxiety had always seemed related to injuries, or the idiots who demanded a ‘bus trip to the hospital’ were so arrogant and whiny he’d learned to zone them out. This... was weird. Really weird.
He kept his eyes closed firmly even when they got outside. He could sort of tell they were out in the light, as it shone even through his closed eyelids. But he could hear Julian barking orders to keep away and knew that the plan to pretend he’d been exposed to something nasty was working. A few bumps later and he was in the back of the ambulance. Without opening his eyes, he asked, “Do you know how to lock the wheels?”
“I do.” An unfamiliar voice answered him, and Steven’s eyes flew open. The second man, Two, was leaning over fixing the gurney so it wouldn’t roll. “Stay put,” he told Steven. “We’ve waved our badges and commandeered the ambulance, but they can still see in the rear windows.”
“Got it.” Steven stared at the ceiling again. “I can feel him breathing.”
Two didn’t ask who Steven was referring to. “Good.”
Julian, who was evidently up front, spoke up then. “He’ll start to wake up soon. I think.”
“How do you know?” Steven asked him. They started to move, then. He didn’t hear the siren, but he could hear the lights clicking, so he knew they were running. “Where are we going?”
“Cincinnati.” The man sitting in the jump seat across from him answered.
“Cincinnati?” Steven echoed, forgetting what he’d asked Julian. “Why in the hell there?”
“That’s where the FDA forensic lab is.” Two answered him calmly.
“Wait. You’re FDA?” Steven tried to sit up and not disturb the still unconscious gremlin.
“No.” He answered. “Stay down. You might as well be comfortable. It’s just a place we have... connections.”
“Trust me, I’m from the government?” Steven relaxed again and made a weak attempt at a joke. He was beginning to wonder just what he’d gotten himself in for.
“I’m not asking that much.” Two made a facial movement that might have been a smile. “However, I will point out you haven’t got much of a choice at the moment.”
“Oh, sure, kick a man when he’s down.” Steven shot back bitterly, staring at the ceiling. “Julian, why did you say the gremlin should wake up?”
“Because that was more than a stink bomb he triggered when he set off the trap.” The big man called back.
“You booby-trapped the lab and didn’t tell me?!” Steven really wanted to jump off the gurney and strangle his boss. “I quit! What the ever-living hell were you thinking! I’m going to file such a...”
“You can’t.” Two broke in, his dead calm voice not betraying a touch of humor. “You’re now bound under the Federal Protection of Aliens law.”
“The gremlin is an alien? You’re taking away my right to workman’s comp? I don’t think you can do that, man.” Steven tried to roll on his side, so he could at least look at the agent he was arguing with, but there wasn’t room.
“The gremlin is not an alien. At least, we don’t think so.” Two looked toward the front of the vehicle. “Dr Thompson, you would perhaps be the best person to explain?”
“The Protection of Aliens Act? Hellfire, man, I don’t even understand that one, and I have more than one Piled higher and Deeper.” Julian was upset, Steven deduced, as his Texas accent was more prominent than usual.
“No, no, the probable origins of gremlins. We’ll leave the PAA for another time.”
Steven felt as though he’d fa
llen into Alice’s rabbit hole and was down drifting slowly through incoherent statements along with an alien, and ambulance, and three crazy people. One wasn’t talking much, but he was driving like a maniac. Steven knew how that felt without having to see out the windshield. And the gremlin was still breathing rapidly, only now with a little wheeze. “I don’t think he’s doing so hot.”
“Alien physiology is not the same as human physiology,” Two informed him pedantically. Then he added with a little shrug, “We don’t know what to do for him, anyway.”
“So, we’re just letting him die?” Steven asked.
“No. We’re almost there,” Julian responded. As he started to speak, Steven felt the ambulance start into a turn. “He’ll be fine,” Julian finished.
“You keep saying alien, but you said not-outer-space alien.” Steven asked Two, curiously. He was resolutely not thinking about how they were all gonna die when the ambulance tumbled out of control on one of these turns. Boxy vehicles just don’t handle like sports cars. Not that the guy driving seemed to have a grasp on the laws of physics.
“Alien is different, not necessarily xenobiology.” Two explained. “Aliens can mean human immigrants, but we are not the INS. Simply, there is more life on Earth than we could have guessed, before we started the metagenome project.
“The dark matter in DNA?” Steven remembered a lecture in one of his final classes on molecular genetics. “Really?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Two pursed his lips and looked thoughtful. “I’m not going to try and give you a higher-level explanation at the moment.”
“So...” Steven turned his head and looked at the man. The agent looked bland and innocuous. He’d blend into any mid-Western, or for that matter, any American crowd. “You’re the Men in Black? Are you going to flashy-thing me when this is over?”
For the first time, he’d cracked their facade. Two blinked, his eyes widening, then he started to laugh out loud. He turned his head, almost giggling now, and asked his partner, “Decimus! Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” The man at the wheel sounded cranky. “I’m trying to...” He trailed off into a grunt. Steven couldn’t see what he was doing, but he could feel the tight turn, and then abrupt stop. They’d been maneuvered into a tight space. Now, the ambulance started to reverse. At least this was slower.
“He thinks we’re the Men in Black!” Two crowed.
One - Decimus - laughed shortly. “I wish. Nothing so cool.”
“No flashy things then.” Steven grinned weakly.
“Oh, I didn’t say no flashy thing.” The agent, now smiling broadly, “We might just have, um, other ways of ensuring you don’t talk.”
Steven couldn’t help it. He could feel his eyes widen as the terror coursed through him. He stiffened, his mouth dry.
“Hey, Septimus!” Decimus turned his head and called. Steven was now certain those weren’t real names, any more than his impromptu monikers had been. “He bought it hook, line and sinker!”
Steven jerked with indignation and then forced himself to relax. The other man was enjoying his discomfort far too much. Don’t show fear, he scolded himself internally. It’s like a brother picking on his little brother. You give him an indicator that he’s getting to you, he’s going to double down. He smiled weakly up at the agent. “Hah. You got me. So...” He never got to finish his sentence.
The back doors opened abruptly, bright light flooding the dimly lit ambulance bay. Steven blinked hard as his abused eyes watered. Through the pain-triggered tears, all he could see was the vague outline of shadow against the light as someone leaned over him and took the bundle of gremlin body away. Then it was all light again, and Decimus was leaning over him.
“Stay put. They want to examine you.”
“Wait!” Steven yelped and sat up, “what if I don’t want to be examined? I’m fine! I’m fine...”
Decimus laughed. “Not like that. No probing involved... I think.” He stepped out of the ambulance with an evil giggle and an unsmiling woman in a lab coat took his place. She had a stethoscope draped around her neck, and the tightly scraped-back hair was streaked heavily with gray. Steven decided she must be a doctor.
“Can you walk?” She asked Steven.
“I’m fine!” he reiterated, hearing a touch of hysteria in his voice. He took a deep breath. “I can get out on my own, especially if I can get out of this bunny suit.”
“We’d prefer you stay in it until we’ve had a chance to take swabs.”
Steven felt the ambulance bounce as his boss got out and rocked it on it’s springs. He sighed. “Whatever. Just, let’s get this over with.”
Probe Me, Just Don’t Make Me Drink the Coffee
His disgruntled feelings were not abated by the time he found himself sitting in an empty breakroom, even though he had been allowed to remove the tyvek suit and have a cup of coffee. He glared down at the reflective dark surface. It was possibly the worst coffee he’d ever attempted to drink. Black, bitter, a skim of oil floating on the surface... He lifted it to his lips. And now, cold. Only a minute ago it had burned his mouth. He drank it anyway, needing the caffeine. He’d lost track of time and they had taken both his watch and phone when they took the suit. He was just happy they’d let him keep most of his clothes, and his socks. The no-nonsense crew that had swarmed all of them looked like they’d take every stitch without batting an eye. Steven had been isolated in this room, and after poking through the mostly-empty cupboards, had come up with a mug for the coffee pot, half full of a brew of dubious age. He sighed again, hearing a crackle deep in his lungs. They’d been more interested in possible contamination than in his respiratory issues.
Since morning, his life had been turned upside down and shaken thoroughly. A gremlin. An alien... not an extraterrestrial alien, but some sort of xenofauna who was able to enter a locked lab without setting off alarms. Steven knew it hadn’t been hiding in the lab all that time - he had personally scrubbed out all the cabinets and drawers during the annual cleaning less than two weeks ago.
Then, there was the chemical spill. Had the gremlin caused that? Or had it been why it had been injured, trying to escape the fumes? Steven frowned absently. The little warm body had been very still against his during that long ride in the ambulance. Now that he had the time to think, he was worried the little gremlin might not have made it. Steven knew he still felt raw and bleary from his partial exposure - lying in that lab could well have been fatal.
Julian might know. But Julian had been taken away, and the only doors out of the room Steven found himself in were locked, accessible only by keycard locks. Steven wondered why they lacked the biometric element his lab boasted, then shook his head. This must be a government facility, he thought wryly. Old, busted, and...
He got up and tried one door, then the other. Ok, not busted. He refilled his mug while he was up. The coffee was a crime against humanity, maybe more so than being locked in here. But still, caffeine. And if they didn’t let him out to use a bathroom, he’d piss in the sink. Steven felt his lips quirk. Rebelling against the Man, yeah. He put the mug down to let it cool and started to take apart the coffee pot.
The door behind him opened and he jumped.
“Guilty, eh? Going to bean me with the coffeepot?” He knew that amused voice.
“Decimus.” Steven turned around, pot in hand. “Nah. I could just pour this crap on you and watch you pull a Wicked Witch.”
“I’m mellltting!” The short agent threw his hands in the air and let his knees sag dramatically. Then he straightened up and laughed. “You’re probably right at that. Is there enough for another cup?”
“No. I was going to make a fresh pot.” Steven dumped the dregs into the sink. “Ugh.”
“Aw, the crunchy bits are the best.” Decimus plopped onto a chair. “Don’t let me stop you.”
Steven grunted, rinsing the pot out. He tucked it back under the pot, then pulled out the brew basket. He grimaced at it, tipped out the fi
lter and grounds, then attacked it with a scrub brush of dubious provenance he found in a drawer. Black grime floated down the drain, but he discovered that once he’d gotten all that off, the white plastic still had deep brown staining. Giving it up as a bad job, he put a fresh filter in, grounds, and measured a potful of water into the reservoir. Decimus watched intently but silently.
Finished, with the pot burbling happily on the counter, Steven flipped a chair around and straddled it backwards, crossing his arms on the thin plastic back. “So. What gives?”
“You want me to tell you, or show you?” Decimus retorted.
Steven shrugged. “Show is always better than tell. But how come you guys put us all in separate rooms like you’re gonna interrogate us?”
“Because we are.” Decimus cocked his head. “I hear nothing.”
“What?” Steven was confused.
Decimus got up and grabbed a mug, explaining over his shoulder as he poured. “Coffeepot had stopped.”
Steven blinked, then shook his head. “Dude. I thought they removed government agents’ senses of humor when they were sworn in.”
“Mine grew back.” Decimus sipped tentatively at the mug. “Ah! You are hereby appointed Maker of Coffee.”
“I’m not going to be here that long.” Steven informed him stiffly. “I have a job already, unless the lab is going to be turned into a Superfund site or something.”
“Or something.” Decimus set his cup down after another long slurp. “So. Talk to me. What happened? And start from the beginning... no, wait, start before the beginning, so you don’t leave anything out.”
Steven stared at him for a long moment, collecting his thoughts and trying to figure out where to start. Finally, he shrugged, and explained. “I started working for Dr. Thompson when the temp agency, the only place that would hire me in my field after I graduated, placed me with his lab...”
Steven wound down two cups of coffee later - Decimus had drunk them, not Steven, who found his stomach rebelled at the thought of more of the bitter brew. He got to the last part, where he was trying to splint the gremlin’s leg, and shrugged. “You know the rest. Is he alive still?”
Lab Gremlins Page 3
