“Matt,” I said, calling him by the name I heard earlier, “We are only here for one person: Thyssen. Unless someone gets stupid and we can’t prevent his or her actions any other way, I don’t plan on killing anyone. I promise. Kel?” I asked, pointedly.
“Just Thyssen. That bastard is going to pay.” It sounded to me like Kel had been doing a lot of thinking in the last little while. I touched his leg.
“Hey,” I said, looking into his cloud-gray eyes, “We good? You cool?” He nodded, but it only gave me one more thing to worry about.
Kel and I clambered from the truck and bolted for the elevator, while Harmon went to deal with Rucker, the voice we heard on the speaker outside.
We entered the elevator car and I punched in the code Harmon had given us. Even as the doors were closing, Kel and I were drawing our weapons. We rode down the six levels in silence, exchanging a glance or two.
I thought back to what my father had told me. “You will survive and make me proud. You hear me? You will do whatever it takes. Are we clear?” The baritone of his voice still resonated in me as if he were here with me, now. A promise is a promise. I knew that what I was doing was putting that promise in jeopardy; but I had made another promise to myself long ago. If I could ever find the ones responsible for my parents’ deaths, I would. No matter what. Now, I was facing that moment and my heartbeat revealed my fear. I hoped that Kel could not hear it pounding in my chest.
The elevator bell announced our arrival on the main lab floor and I held my breath. I was prepared for just about everything except what I saw. Thyssen — I knew it was him by the smirk on his smarmy fucking face — stood there, arms crossed staring at Kel and I. The two soldiers with machine guns pointed at us had no expressions whatsoever.
“I’m going to kill Harmon,” I muttered.
“For that, young lady,” Thyssen stated, “You will have to get in line.” He nodded to the soldiers. “Take their weapons, search them for any more and secure them in my lab. They will serve as decent subjects, I think.”
With that, the soldiers were upon us. They even took the knife I kept hidden inside my boot. Kel looked as pissed as I felt, but there was little we could do at the moment. I ran scenarios through my head as quickly as I could but nothing seemed to play out well. I forced myself to remain calm and took in everything I saw. The hallway led away from the elevator and there were large offices on one side and what appeared to be individual laboratories on the other.
We were hustled, wrists zip tied behind our backs, to the last lab on the right. The soldiers, I noticed, did not have access. Thyssen walked up and swiped a card, placed his thumb on the scanner and the door latch released. They took us inside what looked like a sterile work area. One prominent feature, not standard for any lab I’d ever seen pictures of, was the addition of two plasticine chairs with leather straps on the arms. The soldiers strapped us into these chairs, securing us well enough that I began to worry. Perhaps my own arrogance was about to get the better of me. That thought led me to glance over at Kel. I was surprised to see a slight grin on his face. I cleared my throat but he paid no attention.
“Now, then,” Thyssen said as he motioned the soldiers back to the door. “What are your names? Where are you from? And, how did you survive the pandemic?”
“I think we’re the ones who should be asking the questions. You just fucking kidnapped us.” Kel retorted. I was curious to see where he planned to go with this new attitude. All of a sudden he seemed very calm. Too calm.
“No, I captured two intruders who were apparently up to no good. Why else would you have had guns ready to wield against helpless scientists?” At Thyssen’s words, I couldn’t contain my snort of derision. He turned to me. “You have a differing perspective, young lady?”
“You’re a murderer. Of course, I have a differing perspective. Jesus. You are a prick.” I didn’t mean to give anything away, so as soon as I saw Thyssen’s eyes narrow in thought I caught myself and smoothly added, “Just like Harmon said.” He smirked.
“I would not have thought Harmon would turn so traitorous so quickly. The human psyche still baffles me. Physiology is more to my understanding.” With that, he turned and walked to a cooler with a clear glass door. Inside were several syringes and small glass vials.
“We know what happened,” I said, not wanting him to start poking us with his concoctions until we had a chance to extricate ourselves enough to defend against him. “I know what you did.”
Thyssen turned to me and I knew immediately that he could see the truth in my eyes. I waited. He turned to the soldiers, ordering them out, stating he would call if he needed them. Such arrogance. I knew a potential weapon when I saw one.
“You have my undivided attention, young lady,” Thyssen said, pulling a single metal stool over to face us. He sat and stared.
“You killed the entire world. You sent those people out, knowing that their immune systems were deteriorating. You should have known your serum was dangerous. You used people to test your little project and it cost the planet its population.”
I wanted to lead him and it was working. His emerald green eyes pierced into mine as if they were drilling for more information. I let him steep in the questions he had running around that big head of his. Come to think of it, Thyssen looked younger than I expected. Perhaps in his early forties. He would have been quite young when the pandemic struck. Why would the government have placed such trust and responsibility on a kid? It confounded me.
“What makes you think that I am responsible for the pandemic?” he asked. His manner was nonchalant. Such a lack of emotion only served to irk me, but I forced myself to stay on track.
“Your first serum was close to perfect, except that the nanobots attached themselves to the DNA of the subject and their immune system went into overdrive trying to kill the nanobots off. Smart little fuckers, though, weren’t they? Too smart. As a result, the very thing that was supposed to strengthen and support the immune system destroyed it entirely, instead. Caught you by surprise, huh?”
In my little box of clues and memories, my father had placed a letter explaining a good deal of this, giving pointers as to how I might find out more in libraries and newspapers and such. He was most likely just giving me information, keeping the truth of humanity’s fall open and available for future generations. My dad had a hell of a lot of faith in me. Still, I bet he never thought I would take it upon myself to go after the man responsible.
Thyssen leaned back on the stool, rubbing his upper lip back and forth with his forefinger. I knew I had stepped over the line. Now he would never let me leave this place alive. But, I was expecting more of a reaction. Not this apathetic display of not giving a shit.
“You’re very young,” he said. “Too young to have come up with this information on your own. You knew someone. Someone who knew the project and me. Who was it?”
“I’ve got a better question,” I said, making my next move. “Why on earth did you send those people out into the public — even with the arsenal of immunodeficiency drugs you gave them — knowing they were going to die?”
“I didn’t know they were going to die,” he replied. Looking into his eyes, I almost believed him. “I had no idea that the nanobots would react the way they did. The subjects were already dispersed across the country when I received some blood work that led me to believe I had made a mistake.”
“A mistake?” Kel exclaimed. “You call genocide on a global scale a fucking mistake?”
“Yes, young man, I do.” Thyssen stood and kicked the metal stool across the tiled floor, sliding it neatly under one of the workbenches. “One I do not plan on making ever again. It’s about time I took my true place in history: not as a murderer, but as the savior of mankind. And, you two will be the first subjects to prove the validity of that boast.” He turned and walked toward the cooler full of syringes.
CHAPTER 7
When Thyssen turned his back to us, retrieving syringes of whatever new ser
um he wanted to try out, Kel looked over at me and then down to his hand. His knuckles had collapsed in on themselves significantly and he was sliding his right hand from the straps. He was either double-jointed or he had just dislocated his thumb. He reached over and quickly released the strap on my left hand and then went to work on his opposite one. I had just unbuckled the second strap and released my hands when Thyssen turned back to us, eyes widening as I stood up to face him.
“Sneaky little bastards,” he said, placing the two syringes down on the counter and walking toward us. “I’ve been looking forward to something like this for years.”
“What the fuck are you talking about,” I asked, moving into a fighting stance, ready to knock this guy on his ass. I felt, more than saw, Kel stand up behind me.
“Exercise,” Thyssen replied. He moved so fast that he nearly caught me off guard. As he closed with me, I stepped left, bent low and threw a serious blow to his torso. He huffed but recovered instantly. He was tougher than he looked.
Kel flowed into a karate stance and swept out a kick at Thyssen, who leapt above it and returned a kick directly into Kel’s face, knocking him cold with the single blow. I was on my own.
“You ready for me?” he asked, the arrogance and fervor spilling from his voice.
“Let’s see.”
Within the first few moves, I realized I was probably outmatched. Thyssen had had some serious martial arts training and he was fluid in his movements, both attack and defense. It was another aspect of this man that confounded me. He was scientist, but fluent in martial arts. He saw his actions that ended with the near-decimation of the human race little more than a mistake. I was doubly convinced that this man was dangerous and very likely insane.
My foot swept out making contact with his knee and he finally let out a sound of pain. So far it had only been grunts of exertion from the both of us. I focused on the knee without hesitation, getting in two more solid strikes before Thyssen connected with my cheek and I saw stars. He was not much larger than I was, perhaps a couple of inches taller. Still, his weight was behind the punch and I felt it do its damage.
I took a step back and he performed a limping leap forward, closing quickly and I realized too late that he had swept up one of the syringes in his hand and he brought it into my shoulder with enough might to push me to my knees.
Even as the syringe drained its contents into my system, Thyssen struck out with his left hand and I fell into unconsciousness like a rock into pond. Darkness fell over me and memories encased me, swirling through my mind’s eye, twisting and tumbling. I heard my Dad’s voice in my ears. I was six years old again.
* * * * *
“How could you have not known?” my father asked into the telephone. His voice was controlled, but from my hiding place behind the sofa I could feel the swell of anger beneath his words. “We’ve got six pinpointed locations of outbreak. Each one corresponds to the home city of one of your unauthorized test subjects. That is not a coincidence, Thyssen.”
I scrunched down further in the space between the sofa and the thick curtains of the living room window. I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but he had come into the living room already speaking on the cell phone, while I was playing with my G.I. Joes, pretending they were caught in an ambush behind the sofa.
“Listen,” my dad said, his teeth almost clenched as he held back the anger, “Lisa is already sick. If this thing spreads, there is no way her immune system will stand a chance. The telomere virus will kill her. We only have a limited amount of time to contain this thing. It’s your responsibility. I run the operation, you run the lab. That was the deal. As of now, the op is shut down. I’ve already informed the Secretary of State.” He paused and I held my breath. Lisa was my mom’s name. Was he talking about her?
“You prick. If we let this get any farther, who knows what the end result will be. We’ve got to get these cities quarantined and under lockdown. Now. I don’t care whether you have a cure or not. Not that I believe you in the first place. Not after what you’ve done.”
Dad walked out of the living room toward the front door, which was open to the external screen door. I peeked out and saw him standing, staring out the screen door, and listening to the man on the phone. What did he call the man? Thyssen? What a weird name.
“If we don’t lock this down, any cure you have will not be able to catch up to the spread of the virus. The Telomere Project is dead. Let’s fix this before any more people follow suit.” I jumped when he slammed his hand against the doorjamb, slapping the phone shut. He whirled towards the kitchen, and caught me looking at him from the corner of the sofa. His demeanor shifted, relaxed. He smiled at me and cocked his head.
“No sneaking about, Rock. What’re you doing?”
“Playing soldiers,” I said, holding up the two dolls. He came over, sat on the sofa and motioned me to his lap.
“Who was winning?” he asked. “Good guys? Or, the bad guys?” He asked the questions innocently enough, but I saw something strange in his eyes and told him the truth.
“The bad guys. But, they don’t always win. Almost never.” He nodded and then hugged me tight.
“We should never let the bad guys win, huh, my little Rock?” he said. “But they still manage to every once in a while. So what do we do about it?”
“Never stop fighting,” I replied, repeating the advice my dad had given me so often I could never forget it.
“You got it.” He pulled me in for a gentle kiss on the forehead and said, “Let’s go upstairs and see if mommy’s cold is getting any better.”
* * * * *
I regained consciousness just as an older woman in white was pulling the needle from Kel’s arm. I tried to move, but I now had the straps back around my wrists, with additional points of constraint at my ankles. There were locks at each point. Wonderful, I thought. Let’s see Kel’s double-jointed ass get us out of this one.
“What’re you doing to him?” I asked, still groggy from Thyssen’s punch. The whole right side of my face felt like it was twice its original size and throbbing like a son of a bitch. Luckily, the pain seemed to be easing a bit with every passing minute. My left shoulder, just above my collar-bone, was aching as well. That must have been from the damned syringe with which Thyssen had attacked me.
“I gave him the Nanomere9 serum. Just like you got. From Dr. Thyssen.” The woman glanced around, but no one other than her and us prisoners were in the room. “Sorry about that.” She gave me a sincere look of regret and then turned to walk back to the sterile workbench.
“What will it do to us?” I asked. I suspected that I already had a good notion of what it was supposed to do. Just not what it would actually do.
“You really want to know?” the nurse asked, turning to face me. Kel had not moved since I’d awakened and I was growing concerned. The nurse noticed my glance and nodded in understanding. “His body is not taking to the serum as well as yours.” She shrugged. “Not sure why. Some subjects do better than others. But, in the end, they all get better. At least, they have since Nanomere7. That’s when he got it right.”
“Thyssen, you mean?” She nodded at me and then sat down on the metal stool.
“I know what you know. My name is Karen Hollister. I’m a doctor specializing in cryogenics.”
“Cryogenics?” I could not hide my surprise. What would cryogenics have to do with the serum?
“Yes,” Hollister said. “I maintain the CryoLab facility. It was the first lab when you came off of the elevator. That’s where we keep them.”
“Them, who?”
“The President. The First Lady. The Secretary of State. Two brilliant scientists you probably never even heard of. You must have been a baby when it happened,” she said, noting my apparent age.
“I was six. Why the hell do you have those people frozen in there?”
“Thyssen thinks he can safely restore them to even better health than they had before. I’m doubtful. But, he has done wonders
in the area of life extension. Perhaps he’s right. Perhaps Nanomere9 is the cure-all. I guess we’ll see.”
“You said you know what I know. What did you mean by that?”
“Thyssen. It’s his fault. He let the world die. Honestly, it doesn’t matter if Nanomere9 is the key to healthy extended life. What he did to get to this point negates all the good he’s been trying to do. That’s the way I see it, anyway.”
“What is this Nanomere9, then?” I asked. Since Hollister was talking, I wanted to get as much as I could from her.
“Well, a few things led up to Thyssen’s discovery and first serum. He did have the best of intentions — as selfish as they may have grown. In 2011, there was a scientist, a biologist with Rockefeller University, named Steinman. He discovered the immune system's sentinel dendritic cells and the possibilities of harnessing their power to extend life. The dendritic cells could be used to bolster the immune system, to curb the detrimental effects of infections and various other communicable diseases. He even used it to extend his own life, after he wound up with pancreatic cancer.
“Anyway, a few other scientific leaps happened after that. Beutler and Hoffman discovered the receptor proteins that could be utilized in conjunction with the dendritic cells. Later, in the early ‘20s, there was the breakthrough with the enhancement of telomerase enzyme activity. Governments began funding military research that was geared towards telomere repair strategies combined with advanced medical nanorobotics.”
“That was the Telomere Project?” I asked before I could stop myself. Hollister peered at me in curiosity, but nodded acknowledgement.
“Even though he was warned against specific human testing, Thyssen had a set of six subjects, all volunteers, mind you. The Telomere6 serum, the one he thought was perfect, is the one that killed everyone off. None of the subjects seemed overtly affected by the serum, other than their immunity dropped to almost nil. Thyssen called the test a failure, issued the subjects a range of immunodeficiency drugs and sent them on their way. It wasn’t two weeks later that he found the trouble in some blood work he was performing on the failed subjects.”
4POCALYPSE - Four Tales Of A Dark Future Page 11
