Andreas rolled her eyes, cringing with dread. She was not looking forward to the headache that would result from the dose she would have to take.
“Well, I suppose we shouldn’t waste any more time,” she muttered, stepping towards the storage room. “I’m sure Brenda and Smith are going to be looking for their little errand boy soon.”
She opened the door and pointed at a shelf high above her.
“Take two of those boxes, each one holds thirty nutrition doses. You’re still going to need water, though, hydration doses only work if you’re not exerting any energy.”
“I’m going out through TPM,” Ayn said, standing on his tiptoes to retrieve the boxes. “I’m going to get water and food from there.”
Andreas’ eyes grew wide in alarm.
“What about the guards? The courier said―”
“Leave that to me. There are only a dozen or so people on the evening shift, and I’m bringing a prod to handle the guards. You know how scared people are of raging rations, I don’t think anyone will come near me.”
“But they’ll sound the alarm!”
“Let them. I just have to get out the door, they won’t be able to catch up to me.”
She frowned, shaking her head in dismay as she directed him to the emergency packs.
“You should take two. The lights and blankets in these are better than the ones sent out from TPM, and Amber might need the extra one when you find her. There’s a bag in that drawer for you to carry everything.”
“Thank you,” Ayn said, dropping the supplies into the bag. He began to place it around his shoulders when she stopped him.
“I want you to take some serum,” Andreas told him, stepping out of the room and moving towards the supplement cabinet. “Your ankle still needs a few more doses.”
She handed him a dozen vials cushioned in plastic and a box of syringes, watching as he put the supplies in his bag.
“Where will you go, Ayn?”
He shook his head.
“I’m not telling you that,” he answered. He pointed at the vial of sedation compound in her hand. “Two cc’s this time, they might suspect you if the dose is exact.”
Andreas gulped.
“I know. Just do it and get out, we’ve wasted enough time.”
“I’ll be gone in less than thirty minutes if all goes according to plan,” Ayn told her, smiling at her gratefully. “I’m fast, I’ll make it.”
“Better take the evidence with you, too,” Andreas said, stepping towards the cage. She bent down to retrieve the syringes and empty vials. “If they run a DNA test on the needles, they’ll find out that I used them to bring you back.”
He nodded, putting them in his bag, and she sighed as she held out her hand.
“Good luck, Ayn.”
“And to you, doctor,” he said, returning the gesture. He grinned. “I’d say it was nice knowing you, but we both know that would be a lie.”
Andreas chuckled as she let go and moved to the middle of the lab.
“I guess this is as good a place as any,” she said, filling the syringe and handing it to him. “Put it just to the left of my spine, down towards the middle, that way Brenda can’t say I injected myself. Just don’t go too deep, keep it right in the muscle. You need my code for the door, it’s―”
“1-0-2-8-4-7. The first time David kissed you.”
Her eyes grew wide.
“How the hell did you know?”
“I was there,” Ayn reminded her. “It wasn’t hard to guess, not after I remembered that Amber’s code was the day she and I met. No matter how different people may seem to be, in our hearts, I think we’re all the same. We just spend too much time focusing on the differences to see it. Ready?”
Andreas drew a quivering breath.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He nodded and moved to stand behind her.
“Thank you, Monica,” he whispered, jabbing her with the needle and quickly injecting the solution. She felt the medication ebb through her body, her vision going dark as her knees went weak.
Ayn stepped back to let her fall; he turned to run the moment she hit the ground, when a sudden thought made him hesitate. This would be his last opportunity to reveal David’s final secret―telling her was risky, but perhaps her willingness to let him go meant that her mind had changed enough to finally know the truth.
His mind raced as he weighed the choice, then he darted towards the desk and scribbled a quick note. Those three words should be more than enough to send her in the right direction, and he hurriedly tucked the page into the back of Amber’s file folder before heading for the door at the back of the lab. It would be up to chance for Andreas to find it, he had done enough.
Ayn grabbed a prod from its charging station and ducked into the service corridor, flying down the stairs three at a time as his heart pounded with anticipation. The travel preparation module was all the way on the other side of the facility, but from what he had seen on the map, there was a service tunnel right underneath the ground level that led directly to where he needed to go. He raced through the halls, barely slowing as he made each turn, until he finally found himself staring at a door marked ‘TPM-34’.
He swallowed hard. Two hundred feet of floor space, a few personnel, and a handful of guards—that’s all that separated him from Amber. A wave of goosebumps washed over his skin as he entered the code; he pushed the door open and launched himself through, instantly locking eyes with one of the workers. He heard her scream as he charged past, and a cry of terror went up from everyone else.
“It’s a ration!” a voice shouted, and a moment later, Ayn heard an alarm begin blaring.
He ignored the frenzied screams of panic that erupted from the people inside the room, his eyes focusing in on the exit door. On the floor, he could see a bag of water marked with a large number ten sitting beside a bundle of food, and his mind instantly began calculating how he was going to pick it up without losing momentum.
Five guards were standing near the door; they looked frozen in fear, and Ayn brandished the prod, his eyes bulging as he roared.
“MOVE!”
They scattered. Ayn entered the code on the door with one hand, dropping the prod to free his other to grab the supplies.
A blast of cold air hit him in the face as he kicked the door open, and he swung the heavy bundle up onto his back as he sprinted outside. He glanced over his shoulder and let out a shout of triumph.
He was free.
†‡†
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Andreas groaned, wincing as a bright light suddenly appeared above her.
“Monica? Can you hear me?”
She tried to raise her hand to shield her eyes, but her arm wouldn’t move. She managed to glance down; her wrist was shackled to the bed she was lying on, and her mind instantly snapped alert as she focused on Dr. Trent’s face.
“The ration!” she gasped. “It’s trying to―”
“It’s gone, Monica, long gone,” Trent told her. “You’ve been out for almost three hours.”
Andreas feigned shocked dismay.
“It’s gone?”
“It managed to get out through TPM a few hours ago, Smith has a group looking for it right now. It used your code.”
His words were edged with suspicion, and Andreas scoffed.
“The damn thing is smart,” she hissed. “It must have seen me enter it!”
“It must have,” Trent mused as he eyed her. “It’s interesting that this happened right after you told me to delay my test.”
Her head pounded as she tried to sit up, the shackles sliding along the rail beside the bed as she shifted.
“Care to explain this?” she asked, pointing at her wrist. “What’s going on?”
Trent gave her a worried look.
“Smith’s outside, he wants to talk to you. He’s convinced that you had something to do with the ration’s
escape.”
“Of course he would say that,” Andreas muttered. “Anything to draw attention away from what he did.”
Trent cocked his head.
“What he did?” he echoed in confusion. “What does that mean?”
She leaned back, fumbling as she dug into her pocket.
“There’s something you should see, Jason.”
He raised a brow, his gaze drifting down to the folded page she was clutching in her hand. The scrawled words at the top were facing the outside, and she saw his eyes narrow.
“Is that an executive order?”
Andreas nodded.
“You need to read it.”
Trent took the page from her and began reading; she studied his face, watching as shock washed over his expression. He looked up at her a moment later.
“Is this real?” he breathed, his voice trembling with sudden anger. “Tell me this isn’t real!”
She frowned.
“It’s definitely real.”
“But…but it’s all a lie! No one’s stupid enough to believe this!”
“It doesn’t matter, you know that,” Andreas sighed. “Noah’s statement in support of that order will be more than enough to pass Base One’s scrutiny. Smith did this to override the board’s authority over my project, he’s going to get away with it―”
“The hell he will!” Trent growled, his eyes flashing as he read the page again. “Maybe he’d manage to scrape by if Noah was still alive to take the fall for this ridiculous statement, but not anymore. This is a blatant violation of the separation of authority between us and the administration, this is a chargeable offense!”
Andreas clenched her teeth; she was tempted to tell him what she knew about Brenda’s involvement, but he would want to know how she had had time to talk to the ration before the escape. Part of her couldn’t help suspecting that his willingness to help her so far was based solely on his interest in the defect―she couldn’t risk trusting him with anything else.
“What now?” Andreas finally asked, jangling the shackles again. “What should we do?”
“We aren’t doing anything,” Trent replied. “I’ll handle this, you don’t say a word!”
He spun on his heel and marched towards the door.
“Executive Smith!” he bellowed, and a moment later, Smith’s heavyset frame squeezed into the room.
“Finally!” the man snarled. He thundered forward, his dark eyes filled with rage, but Trent moved to block him.
“You’re not talking to her, Smith. Remove the shackles―”
“You can’t tell me what to do!” Smith sneered incredulously. “I have evidence that she played a role in the ration’s escape, it used her code to open the door! She was involved in Noah’s death―”
“You were involved in Noah’s death,” Trent shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. “He wouldn’t have been in Andreas’ lab in the first place if not for your scheme―I have the executive order, I know what you tried to do. As a lead researcher in this facility and pursuant to Edict 7601-D, consider this your official notice that I am filing a complaint against you with Base One―”
“This is an internal matter!” Smith protested, his eyes bulging. “You have no grounds to involve Base One―”
“On the grounds of fraudulently attempting to use your position to circumvent the board’s exclusive oversight of a research project,” Trent continued loudly, silencing Smith with a look. “In accordance with conflict-of-interest mandates, you are hereby relieved of any investigative authority in this matter pending the final decision of Base One.”
Andreas smiled to herself as she watched Smith’s face turn pale. He had no doubt been relying on Brenda’s dismissal of any internal investigation into the executive order, but this type of complaint would go directly to Base One. The man was as good as done.
“How dare you question me?” Smith huffed, but Andreas could see fear hiding in his eyes. “I was acting well within the bounds of my position!”
Trent scoffed.
“You based this order off of the word of a lab assistant who barely scored a fifteen on the intelligence spectrum, somehow I doubt Base One will agree with you. A man is dead because of you and we’ve lost an invaluable asset to our research―”
“Don’t think you can place all the blame on me!” Smith roared. “What about her?”
“Dr. Andreas’ alleged involvement is up to Base One to address, it’s not your concern. Now, unless you want to add refusing to adhere to policy protocols to the complaint, remove the damn shackles.”
Smith spluttered for a moment as if searching for a response, but he quickly seemed to think better of it. He put his head down, his teeth grating loudly as he moved towards Andreas.
“Well played, doctor,” he muttered, glaring at her as he leaned over her bed. “You got me.”
“You did this yourself, Smith,” Andreas whispered. “All I did was follow policy, you and Brenda created this foolish conspiracy and the consequences that have ensued all on your own.”
She heard him inhale sharply.
“How do you know about Brenda?” he hissed. She smiled.
“I have a better question, Executive Smith,” Andreas replied, her voice growing even more hushed as she moved in closer to his ear. “How many people know for sure that she was in on it?”
Smith’s hands shook as he finished unlocking the shackles, and Andreas could see terror on his face as he stormed out of the room.
Trent turned to look at her.
“You were planning a trip to Center 81 tonight, do you still feel up for it?” he asked, helping her stand to her feet. “We need to get confirmation of the defect immediately, preferably before Base One shows up here to interview you about this mess.”
Andreas nodded quickly.
“Absolutely, if you’ll clear me for travel.”
Trent shrugged.
“Well, you weren’t injured, it was just a sedation dose. I don’t see why not, but you need to take at least two assistants with you. I’d like to spend some time in your lab while you’re gone to look over the other samples you took from the ration.”
His voice lowered, and he gave a cautious glance around.
“I can’t help feeling that we’ve seen the end of the ration program, Monica. I think this is going to force us to push the algae harvest.”
A strange sense of exhilaration flooded through Andreas’ heart as she listened. This was exactly what David had hoped to see, and she cocked her head, giving Trent a long look.
“Perhaps it will, Jason,” she said as she headed for the door. “I suppose we’ll find out, won’t we?”
≈
Executive Smith rushed down the staircase that led to his room, nervously glancing over his shoulder every few minutes. Andreas’ words echoed in his mind, and he couldn’t ignore the sense of paranoia that was building inside of him with every step he took. He knew full well that the failure of his executive order would be used to validate the complaint Dr. Trent was filing, and Base One would be looking for someone to pin the blame on. Thanks to the order, he was the only person implicated in the scheme, and with Noah dead, there was no one to lie about the validity of the information.
No one except for Brenda.
Smith frowned. The protections she had offered through her position with the board didn’t extend beyond the walls of Center 82―she held no influence over Base One, not unless she admitted her role in the plan, but he knew she would never do that. Base One would send representatives within a week to respond to the complaint, but as concerning as that was, he had more pressing issues to worry about. Right now, his testimony was the only evidence of Brenda’s part in the conspiracy, and he scoffed bitterly, cursing himself for being foolish enough to listen to her in the first place.
Smith stopped in front of his room, giving one more look around before ducking inside. He closed his eyes with relief the moment the door
shut behind him—he was safe, for now at least. He changed out of his clothes and trudged into the bathroom, removing his flask from his pocket. Brenda would need some kind of assurance that he wouldn’t reveal her involvement, at least until the officials from Base One arrived and could keep him safe, and he knew he needed to come up with something fast.
Sighing, he unscrewed the flask’s cap and turned the water on, refilling the bottle and lifting it to his lips. He stepped back into his room and sat down on the edge of his bed.
“A complete nightmare,” Smith muttered as he lay down. “The worst possible…”
His voice trailed off as a sudden flash of heat passed over his body; he coughed, feeling his throat close up, and panic seized his heart as his eyes focused on his flask. He let out a quiet cry as he struggled to stand, staggering towards the door and reaching for the handle, when he heard the keypad beep.
“Hello, Jeremy,” Brenda smiled. He reeled back in fear as she slipped inside. “I thought I heard you call out. That took a bit less time than I anticipated, I’m glad I didn’t have to sit outside your door all night.”
“What…what did you do?” Smith gasped as his knees gave way. He collapsed to the floor, his muscles losing their strength. “What’s happening?”
“Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon,” she told him, stepping over him and heading towards the bathroom. His vision was swimming, but he could just barely see her bend down over the tap.
“Please, Brenda,” he begged, his voice barely a whisper. “Don’t do this…”
“It’s already done,” she said as she walked back to his side. There was a round piece of plastic in her hand, the exact size of the sink’s tap. “I’m sorry it had to be this way, but I can’t have you naming me when Base One comes to call.”
“I…I helped you…”
“You helped yourself,” Brenda corrected him. “Or at least you tried to, anyway. Our venture failed, Jeremy, that’s that.”
He couldn’t breathe; his lips were numb, and he gasped as he fought against the unbearable weight that had appeared on his chest.
CENTER 82 (RATION) Page 37
